[From the shadows – part 2]
Tosaka Ushio was the representative of his class. He was in the third year of high school, the final one before university, and he carried the position with impressive naturalness. He was the kind of student who always seemed to know what to do, when to speak, and when to remain silent. Organized, polite, reliable.
That was why he was respected.
Teachers trusted him. Principals praised him frequently. Among his classmates, there was sincere admiration, and even a certain affection. Ushio always made an effort to maintain order in the class and preserve the good name of the school, and he did so without seeming authoritarian.
His younger brother, however, was… different.
Tosaka Li walked through the hallways like someone who preferred not to draw attention. He wasn't exactly unpopular—actually, he was even known among some students—but he also didn't care about standing out. His grades were average, his behavior discreet. He didn't cause problems, nor did he seek praise.
He was almost a ghost in the school. Almost.
— Hey! Li, you bastard!
The voice echoed through the hallway before he even had time to react. Li barely had the chance to turn his head when someone came running toward him with hurried steps. Judging by the boy's expression, this was hardly a friendly encounter.
Takeda stopped abruptly in front of him. Both hands landed on Li's shoulders with dramatic weight, making him blink several times in confusion.
— Li… you… you…
Takeda slowly raised his face, as if he were about to reveal a great tragedy. The expression was so exaggerated that it bordered on comical.
— You logged out yesterday in the middle of the match!
Some students passing through the hallway slowed their pace to look.
Takeda continued, pointing an accusing finger.
— We lost that wonderful event that only happens once a year! — his voice rose a few tones. — Why do you hate me so much? Tell meee!
Li immediately felt embarrassed.
— H-hey, Takeda… calm down…
A nervous smile appeared almost by reflex. People were watching. Before Takeda could continue the drama, a book lightly tapped the top of his head.
Paf.
— Stop being dramatic, Takeda. You're embarrassing yourself.
The voice was calm, firm, and perfectly controlled.
Shoto stood beside them, adjusting his glasses with the same calmness as always. His uniform was impeccable, as if he had just stepped out of a school photoshoot.
Takeda turned his head indignantly.
— Shoto-kun! You were also in the match and logged out, you—
He didn't get to finish. A hand suddenly appeared and casually pushed his face to the side.
— Move.
Takeda lost his balance and stumbled a few steps before falling seated on the hallway floor.
Himiko appeared right behind, holding a stack of books against her chest. Her orange hair was tied into a ponytail that swayed gently as she smiled.
— Good morning, boys. — she tilted her head slightly. — What are you talking about?
On the floor, Takeda grumbled.
— Why does everyone hate me…
Li watched the scene in silence. That small commotion was, in a way, familiar. Takeda was dramatically complaining to Himiko for pushing him. Himiko pretended not to understand what he was talking about. And Shoto, with the patience of a teacher, pointed out flaws in Takeda's posture, explaining—with all the seriousness in the world—how his balance stance was terrible and that was why he had fallen so easily.
It was a strange group. But they were the only friends Li truly had in that school.
— Hey, guys.
Li's voice made the three of them look at him. He scratched the back of his neck.
— Sorry about yesterday… I wanted to play more, but…
His expression faltered for a moment. Takeda noticed.
And, surprisingly, completely changed his posture. He got up from the floor, walked over to Li, and gave a small punch to his friend's shoulder.
— Hey, relax. We understand what you've been going through.
The change in tone was so sudden that Li blinked a few times. Himiko shrugged.
— It was just a game anyway. I only agreed to participate because they needed to complete the minimum number of players.
— I knew it. — Shoto cast a direct look at her. — You don't know how to play.
Himiko laughed a little awkwardly.
— Hey, I do know how to play!
— Statistically, you don't.
— Shut up, Shoto.
The group began walking into the classroom while talking. The atmosphere among them was light. The teasing arose naturally, without real weight. The conversation briefly returned to the game from the previous night, with Takeda dramatically describing the "historic disaster" that had been the team's defeat.
Then, inevitably, the subject changed. The cultural festival. The entire school was involved in the preparations, and almost every student had been assigned some task. Li had activities scheduled with Ushio later. Takeda and the others had also been assigned to help in different areas of the event. Routine seemed to continue normally.
But outside the school walls, other things were happening.
About seven hundred meters away, at the top of a commercial building, a woman observed the school from a distance. She stood at the edge of the building. She wore black from head to toe. A dark coat covered her body, and a wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over her face. Dark sunglasses hid her eyes, while the morning wind slowly stirred her long blonde hair.
In her hands, she held a small device. The lens was pointed directly at one of the classrooms in the school building.
Li's classroom.
She watched for a few seconds before taking a phone from her pocket and dialing a number.
The call was answered almost immediately.
— Did you find it?
The voice on the other end was male. Deep, heavy.
— I did. — the woman replied calmly. — But it's not emitting anything anymore. Are you sure it's him?
There was a brief pause.
— The tracking system led you to him. — the man replied. — Unless there's something in the house emitting the signal… it can only be the boy.
She kept her gaze fixed on the direction of the school.
— Understood. I'll keep watching.
— The other team should have already arrived at the house.
While he said that, in another part of the city, the Tosaka family residence was being searched.
Five people dressed entirely in black moved through the rooms with efficiency and silence. They opened closets. Examined the walls. Searched through drawers. Every corner of the house was inspected.
Centimeter by centimeter.
— If they don't find anything in the house… — the man continued on the phone — then take the boy and run the test.
His voice hardened slightly.
— I don't want to overlook anything.
On the other side of the line, he was sitting in a large office. He was a big man. Nearly two meters tall, with broad shoulders that stood out beneath the impeccable dark suit. His short hair was already beginning to turn gray at the sides, and his well-trimmed beard reinforced the impression of authority.
In front of him, a fireplace crackled softly.
He watched the flames.
— What happened in that era… — he murmured, almost to himself. — cannot happen again.
The call ended. The man dropped the phone onto the sofa beside him and remained there, staring into the fire.
At the top of the building, the woman sighed quietly and slipped the phone back into the pocket of her coat.
Below, on the busy street, a pedestrian happened to look up.
For a moment, he had the impression he had seen someone at the top of the building.
He blinked.
But when he looked again… there was no one there.
Confused, he simply continued on his way.