The rest of the morning classes passed in a blur for Hikari. Words from textbooks and teachers' voices washed over her, leaving no impression. The only thing that felt real was the heavy, expectant silence that had settled over Class 1-B. The glances thrown her way were no longer accusatory, but wide-eyed with uncertainty and a dawning, uncomfortable guilt.
When the lunch bell rang, a stern-faced upperclassman from the student council appeared at the door. "Tanaka Hikari, Sato Kaito, and…" he consulted a list, "Yui Nakamura, Mari Suzuki, Aiko Watanabe. Please come with me to the faculty office immediately."
A collective hush fell over the room. This was it. Hikari stood, her movements automatic. As she walked to the door, she saw Kaito rise from his front-row seat with his usual calm efficiency. He didn't look at her, but his presence was a solid, quiet anchor in the swirling tension. The three girls, pale and sniffling again—though now their tears seemed to be of genuine fear—shuffled out behind them, huddled together like startled birds.
The walk to the faculty office was long and silent. The corridor, usually bustling with noise, felt like a tunnel.
The investigation room was stark. The vice principal, Mr. Endo, and another stern teacher Hikari didn't know sat behind a large desk. On a monitor facing the students was the frozen, grainy image from the gymnasium shed camera, its timestamp clearly visible from the previous evening.
They were made to stand in a line. No one offered them chairs.
"Before we review the recording," the vice principal began, his voice grave, "we will hear one final time from each of you. Nakamura, from the beginning."
Yui's story, this time, was smaller. She mumbled about "just talking" and "maybe getting a little too close," her eyes fixed on the floor. Mari and Aiko echoed her with weak, trembling voices, their earlier confidence completely gone.
When it was Hikari's turn, she simply stated the facts again, her voice flat. "They blocked me, insulted me, shoved me, and tried to grab my violin case. I pushed them away to get free."
The vice principal nodded, his expression unreadable. "Sato. You were not present. Do you have anything to add?"
Kaito took a small step forward. "Only that my request was for factual clarity, sensei. To ensure a fair outcome based on evidence, not perception."
"Very well."
He turned the monitor and pressed play.
The silent, black-and-white footage told the story with brutal simplicity. There was no sound, but the body language was a screaming confession. The three girls stepping aggressively into Hikari's path. The clear, two-handed shove from Yui. The way they encircled her. The lunge from Aiko for the violin case. Then, the brief, chaotic flurry as Hikari moved—not attacking, but reacting, defending her space and her property with a desperate, furious energy, before breaking free and walking away, leaving the three clustered on the ground.
It was undeniable. It was self-defense.
The room was utterly silent after the video ended. The color had drained completely from Yui, Mari, and Aiko's faces. They looked like they might be sick.
The vice principal let out a long, slow breath. "The evidence is clear. Nakamura, Suzuki, Watanabe—you deliberately instigated a physical confrontation, lied about it to faculty, and attempted to have another student punished for your own actions. This is a severe violation of school conduct."
He pronounced the sentence with finality. "You are each suspended for one month. You will also submit formal letters of apology to Tanaka. Your parents will be contacted today. You may collect your things and leave the premises immediately. Dismissed."
The three girls didn't speak. They didn't look at anyone. They simply filed out of the room, their earlier tears now flowing in earnest, their world of social standing and whispered lies collapsing around them in utter, public disgrace.
Mr. Endo then turned to Hikari. His stern demeanor had softened into something resembling weary regret. "Tanaka. The school formally acknowledges your innocence in this matter. You acted within your right to defend yourself. No disciplinary action will be taken against you." He paused, seeming to choose his words. "The way you were treated by your peers was unacceptable. You have the school's apology."
He then looked at Kaito. "Sato. Your intervention was… prudent. It prevented a significant miscarriage of justice. Thank you for your clear thinking."
With a nod, they were dismissed.
The walk back to class was even quieter than before. Word, Hikari knew, would have already flown ahead of them.
When Mr. Endo re-entered Class 1-B just before the afternoon period began, every student was rigid in their seat. He didn't bother sitting down.
"The investigation into this morning's incident is concluded," he announced, his voice carrying a weight that silenced even the faintest rustle. "The security footage confirmed that Tanaka Hikari was the victim of an instigated confrontation and acted in self-defense. Nakamura, Suzuki, and Watanabe have admitted to their false statements and have been suspended for one month."
A wave of shock, deeper than the one from the morning, rolled through the room. It was one thing to suspect, another to have it officially confirmed. Their classmates, the popular girls, were liars and bullies. The outcast had been telling the truth.
"The school extends its apologies to Tanaka for the distress caused," Mr. Endo continued, his gaze sweeping over the students, many of whom flinched and looked away. "And I expect this class to reflect on its own conduct—on quick judgments and the harm caused by whispers. Consider that lesson the most important one you will learn today."
He didn't ask for an apology from the class. He didn't need to. The shame in the room was thick enough to taste. As he turned to begin the lesson, a slow, hesitant rustle began. One by one, heads turned not toward Hikari, but down toward their own desks, in a silent, collective gesture of contrition. The war was over. The truth had won.
But in the back of the room, Hikari Tanaka sat perfectly still, and in the front row, Kaito Sato stared straight ahead at the board, both of them locked in the quiet, seismic aftermath of what had just happened.
(End of Chapter 8)