The alarm rang at 6:45.
Yuta opened his eyes before the second chime. The room was silent. The white ceiling, still. The fan spun its usual slow circle. Cool air slipped through the half-open window. The city was starting to breathe.
He rose slowly. His body still carried the weight of recent nights. His cursed energy was stable, but not refreshed. Mentally, he was balanced. But the silence brought more than peace—it brought memory.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up with two unread Toknet notifications.
Aika Kiriyuu: "Good night. Thank you for saving me."
Sent at 2:43 a.m. Direct. Simple. Heavy.
Below it:
Megumi Katō: "I'll be on the cherry blossom path. 7:10. Alone."
Sent at 6:02. Cold. Precise. No commas.
Yuta stared at the screen for a few seconds. Didn't reply immediately.
He pulled on his uniform pants. Splashed water on his face. Brushed his teeth. His mind already in the day's rhythm.
Only then did he return to the phone.
He typed to Megumi first.
Yuta Okkotsu: "Ok. I'll swing by."
Message delivered. Seen almost instantly. No reply.
Then he opened Aika's. Her message still hadn't been viewed by her—likely asleep or away from her phone.
Yuta Okkotsu: "Good morning. Rest well. You're safe now."
Message sent.
He set the phone on the table. Grabbed his backpack. Checked his pockets.
'Cherry blossoms, 7:10…'
He glanced at the clock. 6:58.
Just enough time. But calculated.
He left the room in silence.
The city was waking gradually. Birds on wires. Gates creaking. Someone washing the sidewalk. Nothing threatening. Nothing strange.
___
Classroom, Year 2-B
The sound of the eraser scraping the chalkboard was the only noise in the room for the first few minutes. Most students kept their eyes down, phones on desks or faces propped on arms.
Yuta sat in the back row. Watching everything. Aika was two desks ahead, by the window. Hair tied back, posture straight. But her fingers never stopped. Tapping, trembling.
Professor Chabashira entered precisely at 7:50. She slapped her notebook on the desk with a sharp crack, and no one dared speak after that.
"Everyone, quiet."
She wrote the date in the board's corner. Then turned to the class.
"We'll have a visitor today."
Aika blinked rapidly. Her shoulders hunched.
Yuta kept his eyes fixed. The flow of cursed energy in the room was nearly nonexistent. But the emotional tension was another matter.
Two men in dark suits entered. Police badges visible in their pockets.
"Sorry to interrupt. This won't take long."
The professor nodded and stepped to the room's corner.
One of the men took two steps forward.
"Three students from this school have been missing since yesterday. Two from Class C and one from Class B."
Aika froze.
Yuta noticed. Her breathing shifted. Shallow. Fast. Her eyes focused on nothing.
The officer continued.
"We're searching the area, and we're asking that if any student saw anything unusual yesterday, they contact the administration."
No names were given. But everyone knew.
Ryo wasn't there. Nor were the two boys who hung around him.
Yuta kept his expression neutral. Inside, the memory of Ryo's body being devoured was still vivid. But that wasn't what mattered now.
It was Aika.
She was pale. Her hands gripped her knee. Her gaze locked on the desk's surface.
The officer finished:
"We believe it's likely a case of running away or something similar. There's no evidence of a crime. But any information helps."
They left shortly after. The door closed slowly.
The professor returned to the room's center.
"Class as usual. Open your books to page 42."
Yuta didn't open his book.
He looked at Aika. She was still rigid. When she noticed, she turned her head back. Met his eyes.
For a second, everything stopped.
She blinked. Then turned forward quickly. Swallowed hard.
'I need to talk to him at break.'
Yuta read it in her body. In the way she breathed. In the fear that hadn't left.
He looked at the board but didn't see the formulas. What he saw was Aika in that forest. Her muffled scream. His hands on her shoulders. The way she clung to him.
The System hadn't shown any anomalies since then.
But this wasn't about that anymore.
'She needs words. Not protection now.'
The class continued. Voices echoed between paragraphs, but Yuta caught only fragments. Dates, formulas, definitions. All irrelevant compared to what was coming.
The break would be short. And lunch already had a destination.
Megumi.
She'd message soon, confirming she'd come to his classroom.
Yuta knew the classmates' attention would follow. Megumi rarely left her corner—let alone sought someone from another class.
But now there was Aika, too.
The girl was shaken, visibly rattled, and wanted to talk.
'Two meetings in one break. With two pretty girls. Yeah… that's definitely going to be gossip.'
He closed his eyes for a second, letting the thought pass without clinging to it.
Because even with the disappearance of three students—even with the police's presence that day—nothing truly stopped Kuoh.
Disappearances were almost part of the school calendar.
People vanished. Rumors flared. Then they faded.
But Aika wouldn't forget. Nor would Megumi.
And he… didn't have the luxury of forgetting anyone.
Unknown to Yuta, others wouldn't forget either.
Suzune Horikita, for instance.
She sat in the middle row, her pen perfectly poised over her notebook. Her face expressionless, as always. But her eyes, for a moment, lingered on the door the officers had exited. Long enough to show what her mind was registering: patterns.
'It's not the first disappearance.'
She said nothing. Didn't react. But jotted a small note in the page's corner, as if it were part of the lesson.
Utaha Kasumigaoka crossed her legs under her desk, her phone resting on her lap, screen locked. She wasn't typing. Just staring into space, but her eyes were alive—almost amused.
Missing students weren't a problem for her.
They were material.
'Someone will use this before I do. And that would be a waste.'
She pulled her notebook, opened it halfway, and scribbled a scene title: "Three vanished. Only one had eyes for the other side."
She smiled. Cold. Not from empathy. From creative construction.
She already knew who the protagonist would be. And how he'd get tangled with a traumatized girl carrying too many secrets.
She glanced sideways, as if by chance.
Yuta was still, staring at the wall clock.
Aika was two seats ahead, shoulders tense.
Utaha bit the corner of her pen.
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