The morning light felt like an accusation.
Hikari walked into Class 1-B with her head held stiffly high, the long sleeves of her uniform carefully pulled down to cover the scabbed scratch on her forearm. Her shoulder ached where the seam of her blazer had been torn and hastily stitched the night before. She felt every whisper, every sideways glance like a physical touch. The three girls—Yui, Mari, and Aiko—were already at their desks, a perfect picture of wounded innocence. Yui had a small, dramatic white bandage on her palm. Mari sniffled occasionally into a tissue. Aiko's eyes were red-rimmed.
They had already told their story. Hikari could feel it in the air, thick and toxic. The narrative was set before homeroom even began: Poor, bullied girls attacked by the violent loner.
When Mr. Endo entered, his usual mild expression was gone, replaced by stern disapproval. He didn't even wait for the greeting.
"Tanaka. Stand up."
The command cracked through the room. Hikari stood, her chair scraping loudly in the dead silence.
"I have been informed of a very serious incident after school yesterday. An unprovoked physical assault on three of your classmates. Is this true?"
All eyes were on her. They were hungry eyes, eager for the show, already convinced of her guilt. She saw the vindictive gleam in Yui's gaze from across the room.
"It's not true," Hikari said, her voice clear but flat. "They blocked my path. They shoved me first. They tried to take my violin case. I defended myself."
A wave of disbelieving murmurs swept the class. "Violin case?" someone whispered dismissively.
"They tried to stop you from leaving, and your response was to injure them?" Mr. Endo's voice was heavy with skepticism. He gestured to the three girls. "Look at them, Tanaka. Does this look like self-defense to you?"
"They started it," Hikari repeated, the words feeling useless as stones dropped into a deep well. "They insulted me. They pushed me. Ask them why my case was the first thing they grabbed."
"We were just talking to her!" Aiko burst into fresh, convincing tears. "We were asking about the project, and she just snapped! She's unstable!"
"We were scared of her," Mari added, her voice trembling. "Everyone knows she has a temper."
The teacher's face hardened further. The word 'unstable' hung in the air, fitting neatly into the existing file labeled Hikari Tanaka: Problem Student. Hikari's heart sank. She looked at the sea of faces. No one met her eyes. No one looked doubtful. They saw the bandages, the tears, and the story they had already decided to believe. She was the rebel, the outcast, the one who didn't fit. Of course she was guilty.
A deep, cold loneliness settled over her, heavier than any anger. She didn't expect anyone to stand for her. She never had. This was just how it was.
"Your continued defiance and now violence are unacceptable, Tanaka," Mr. Endo said, shaking his head. "This will mean serious disciplinary action. A suspension, at the very least—"
"Sensei."
The voice was quiet, but it cut through the teacher's pronouncement like a knife.
Every head in the room, including Hikari's, swiveled to the front.
Kaito Sato was standing up. His posture was perfectly straight, his face calm, but there was a tightness in his jaw she had never seen before. His eyes were not on the teacher, but on the three girls in the middle of the room, and his gaze was like ice.
The class collectively held its breath. The school prince was speaking. For her? Again?
"Yes, Sato?" Mr. Endo asked, irritation and surprise warring in his tone.
"With respect, sensei," Kaito began, his voice level and precise, the same voice he used to give perfect answers, "I do not believe the account you have been given is complete."
Yui's face went pale. Mari stopped sniffling, her eyes wide with panic.
"This is not your concern, Sato," the teacher said, frowning.
"It is my concern if the truth is not presented," Kaito replied, unwavering. He turned fully to face the teacher. "Tanaka-san is my project partner. I have worked closely with her. The characterization of her as 'unstable' or prone to unprovoked violence does not match her conduct. She is direct, but she is not irrational."
Hikari felt her breath catch in her throat. He was doing it again. But this was bigger than a grade. This was her word against three.
"Sato-kun is just being kind!" Yui cried out, her voice pitched high with desperation. "He doesn't want to believe his partner could do something so awful!"
Kaito didn't even glance at her. He kept his focus on the teacher. "There is a way to ascertain the truth without relying on conflicting testimonies." He paused, letting the weight of his suggestion settle. "The path from the old music room wing to the main gate. It passes by the gymnasium's rear wall. There is a security camera there, on the corner of the equipment shed, to monitor the sports storage. It would have captured the entire interaction."
A deafening silence fell.
The three girls looked as if they'd been struck. Their carefully constructed story, built on tears and social standing, had just collided with an immovable object: evidence.
Mr. Endo stared at Kaito, then at the suddenly terrified girls, then at Hikari, who was standing frozen, watching Kaito as if he were a ghost. The teacher's expression shifted from stern certainty to dawning, uncomfortable realization.
"The… security feed," Mr. Endo repeated slowly.
"Yes, sensei," Kaito said, giving a short, respectful bow. "I request that it be reviewed before any disciplinary action is taken. For the fairness of everyone involved."
There was no refusing. The request was too logical, too fair. To deny it would be to admit he didn't want the truth.
"Very well," Mr. Endo said, his voice much quieter now. "The matter will be investigated. All of you, sit down. We will proceed with the lesson."
Kaito sat down smoothly, as if he had just answered a simple math problem. He did not look at Hikari.
But the class was in a state of pure, silent shock. The girls who had been so jealous the day before were staring at their desks, faces burning with a new kind of humiliation. The boys who had nodded along with the story looked confused and uneasy. The narrative had shattered.
Hikari slowly sank into her seat. The cold loneliness was gone, replaced by a roaring in her ears and a tremble in her hands she couldn't control. He hadn't just stood up for her. He hadn't just defended her character. He had, with chilling calmness, dismantled the entire lie. He had known about the camera. He had thought of a solution when she could only see a dead end.
She stared at the back of his head, at his neat, dark hair. The boy who lived in a world of perfect order had just stepped into her chaos and, with a few quiet sentences, had imposed a truth so powerful it left the entire room stunned.
The truth would unfold. The camera would show them shoving her, grabbing for her case. The world would see. But in that moment, as the teacher began a shaky lecture no one heard, Hikari realized the truth had already unfolded for her.
Kaito Sato had seen her. Truly seen her. And he had chosen, not once, but twice, to stand in the space between her and the world that wanted to push her down. The shock in the room was nothing compared to the earthquake happening inside her own heart.
(End of Chapter 7)