The sun hung low on the horizon, bleeding hues of orange and red across the courtyard.
The warmth of the setting sun didn't reach Ili.
His body moved on autopilot, his footsteps steady but his thoughts—
His thoughts were a storm.
The day's events replayed relentlessly in his mind:
The whispers. The accusations. Kouko's worried expression.
And—Tatsuya.
That look he'd given Ili in class.
A smirk, tinged with something darker.
Something calculated.
Ili's brow creased, his gut twisting.
Why does it feel so familiar?
The thought burrowed deep, an itch just out of reach.
His chest tightened as he walked faster, trying to outrun the feeling.
But it was catching up.
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves, carrying faint echoes of laughter.
Ili barely heard it.
His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms.
Focus.
He raked through his thoughts, sifting through the murk of missing time, but—
It was like grasping at smoke.
Then—
The vending machines.
Ili stopped abruptly, his breath shallow.
The cold metal against his back barely registered as he pressed his hands against his temples.
"Why can't I remember?"
His own voice sounded strained. Unsteady.
Then—a flicker.
A memory, hazy at first, but growing sharper.
The masked attacker.
Shrouded in shadow. Moving with deliberate precision.
Not random.
Targeted.
Ili's fingers trembled against the vending machine.
A knife.
The glint of it under harsh fluorescent lights.
The night at the grocery store.
Kouko's frantic shouts as she pulled him away.
And then—
The way they moved.
Their stance. The shift in weight.
The controlled pivot—
Ili's breath hitched.
His heartbeat slammed against his ribs.
"No…"
The word left him in a whisper.
He shook his head, forcing the thought away.
But it wouldn't let go.
The memory resurfaced—
Tatsuya.
His sharp, calculating gaze.
Always watching from the edges.
His unsettling tendency to be where Ili least expected him.
A different memory surfaced, unbidden.
Tatsuya's hand tightening around a metal baton during a sports meet.
His expression, eerily calm, as he swung it—just a fraction too close to another student's head.
Then, brushing it off with a laugh.
Ili's pulse quickened.
His mind reeled, the pieces clicking into place too fast.
He pushed off the vending machine, head snapping up.
And then—he saw him.
By the far wall.
Casually leaning against the bricks, phone in hand.
His posture—relaxed. At ease.
But Ili's chest burned.
Because he knew.
He knew.
The masked attacker's stance. The way they had pivoted—fluid, precise.
It was the same movement Tatsuya made during a basketball game last month.
Ili's hands clenched into fists.
His breath came shallow. Unsteady.
He could hear Kouko's voice in his head, warning him not to jump to conclusions.
But—
The pieces kept falling into place.
Faster. Faster.
He took a step forward—
And Tatsuya looked up.
His smirk was already there.
Like he had been waiting for this moment.
Like he had always known it would come to this.
And Ili didn't hesitate anymore.
Tatsuya turned slightly, as if sensing Ili's gaze. Their eyes met across the courtyard, and for a split second, Ili saw it—the flicker of recognition in Tatsuya's smirk, the same calculated amusement he'd seen on one of the masked attacker.
As if he had always known this moment would come.
The cold wind bit at Ili's skin, but he barely felt it.
His pulse hammered in his ears, drowning out the indistinct chatter of students drifting through the courtyard. The world blurred at the edges—faces and voices blending into a meaningless haze.
All that remained was Tatsuya.
Standing there, completely at ease, the embodiment of calculated cruelty.
And that smirk—that knowing smirk—as if Ili had finally reached the part of the game where the rules no longer mattered.
As if he had always known this moment would come.
Ili stumbled back. His shoulder hit the vending machine, the impact sending a dull shock through his frame, but he barely registered it. The weight of realization crashed over him, sinking into his bones like lead.
That night. The masked attacker. The whispers in the dark.
Tatsuya was there.
His breath hitched. The memories were jagged, fragmented—but undeniable.
The grocery store. The distant hum of the fluorescent lights. The rush of movement in the corner of his vision before the world turned black.
Ili's fingers curled into fists, nails biting into his palms.
He had been there.
And more than that—he had been the one behind it.
Across the courtyard, Tatsuya pocketed his phone—slow, deliberate. The kind of movement designed to be noticed.
It felt mocking.
Ili's body tensed, every muscle coiled with an unspoken urgency. But his mind was reeling, spiraling into the past.
"You should've stayed quiet."
The memory clawed at his skull, an echo from that night—low and mocking, whispered through the mask.
Had it been his voice?
He hadn't realized it at the time. He had been too disoriented, too focused on surviving. But the cadence, the cruel lilt at the end...
It was the same.
His stomach twisted, nausea creeping up his throat.
The rumors, the whispers, the relentless pressure crushing him from all sides—none of it had been random.
This had been a plan. A slow, meticulous unraveling, piece by piece, leading him to this moment.
And Tatsuya had orchestrated it all.
Ili's breaths came sharp and uneven.
He had to think. Had to make sense of it all.
Had to understand why.
"He knows too much. We can't risk it."
The overheard words from weeks ago, once dismissed as meaningless, now struck like a gunshot.
Tatsuya had been talking about him.
From the very beginning.
The realization sent a cold, suffocating wave through his body. His hands trembled. Not with fear.
With anger.
Tatsuya hadn't just been toying with him. He had been eliminating him.
Not physically—not yet.
But he was pushing Ili toward the edge, isolating him, poisoning everything around him.
And Kouko—
Ili's chest tightened painfully.
Kouko had become part of it.
Not as an accomplice.
As leverage.
The rumors, the tension, the way she had started hesitating around him—Tatsuya had made sure of it.
He had made her doubt.
And Ili?
He had let it happen.
His gaze snapped back toward the exit.
Just in time to see Tatsuya disappear around the corner.
Gone.
But not really.
His presence lingered, like a hand gripping Ili's throat, squeezing just enough to remind him who had control.
Ili swallowed hard, forcing down the bile rising in his chest.
His fingers curled tighter, knuckles white.
"Tatsuya…" he muttered under his breath. His voice trembled. Not with weakness.
With unrestrained fury.
Tatsuya wasn't just a classmate with a penchant for cruelty. He was part of something much larger, something that had been set in motion long before Ili could piece it together.
And somehow, Ili had stumbled into the middle of it. He didn't know how or why, but he could feel it in his bones—he was a threat to Tatsuya. A threat that needed to be neutralized.
Turning toward the gate, Ili felt the weight of Tatsuya's smirk lingering in his mind, a challenge that only strengthened his resolve. For now, Tatsuya might be a step ahead, but Ili would figure it out. One step at a time
"Ili."
The voice was sharp. Unmistakable.
Ili stiffened.
His fists clenched instinctively at his sides.
By the gate, leaning lazily against a lamppost, was Tatsuya.
His posture was casual, but his eyes—
His eyes were cold.
Calculating.
Like a predator sizing up its prey.
Tatsuya pushed off the lamppost, his steps deliberate, slow, unhurried.
"Finally put it together, huh?"
His smirk was mocking, his voice dripping with faux amusement.
"Took you long enough."
Ili's jaw tightened.
His voice was low. Controlled.
"You were there that night."
His breath felt heavy, every syllable dragging out like a weight.
"At the store."
Tatsuya's smirk widened.
His eyes gleamed with quiet malice.
"And here I thought you'd never figure it out."
He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head in mock disappointment.
"You're sharper than you look."
The tension thickened.
Ili stepped forward.
The air between them felt electric, charged with unspoken hostility.
"Why?"
His voice was sharp, demanding.
"What's your problem with me?"
Tatsuya shrugged, rolling his shoulders like this was all a joke.
"You don't belong here, Ili."
His tone was light, but his words cut like glass.
"You've been a thorn in my side since the moment you showed up. I thought you'd be smart enough to stay out of the way."
His expression darkened.
"And then there's Kouko."
His voice dropped, venom lacing every syllable.
"She doesn't need someone like you."
Tatsuya took another step forward.
His smirk curled cruelly.
"You should've stayed away."
Ili's chest burned with anger, his fists curling tighter. "So, what? You attacked me because you couldn't handle that?"
Tatsuya's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't just about you. You're a threat, Ili. And threats need to be dealt with."
Kouko Enters the Scene
Before Ili could respond—
A voice cut through the tension.
"What's going on here?"
Ili's stomach clenched.
He turned.
Kouko stood a few feet away.
Her eyes darted between them, her expression a mix of confusion and worry.
Her voice trembled slightly.
"Why are you two—"
"Kouko."
Ili's voice came out harsher than he intended.
His body was too tense, too wired.
"Stay out of this."
Kouko stopped in her tracks.
Her brows furrowed.
"What do you mean, stay out of this?"
She stepped forward.
Her voice was shaky, but insistent.
"Ili, what's going on?"
"Why are you two acting like this?"
Tatsuya let out a low, amused chuckle.
"Go ahead, Ili."
His smirk widened.
"Tell her."
He tilted his head, his tone mocking.
"Tell her why you've been avoiding her."
"Why you've been acting like you're better than everyone else."
Ili's breath hitched.
His chest heaved.
For a second—he didn't know how to speak.
But then—he forced it out.
"That night."
His voice was low. Strained.
"At the grocery store."
His eyes locked onto Tatsuya.
"It wasn't random."
Tatsuya's smirk didn't waver.
Kouko's eyes widened.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
"What…?"
Ili's fingers curled into fists.
"He was there."
Kouko's breath shook.
"You… you were there?"
"And it wasn't just him."
Ili's voice grew sharper.
"There were others."
His breath caught.
"Three of them."
His words felt like stones in his throat.
"They cornered me. He was leading them. You remember that right, Kouko?"
Her mind was spinning.
"Ili…"
Her voice trembled.
Her thoughts scrambled for an explanation.
"Why… why would he…"
Ili let out a bitter, humorless laugh.
"Because apparently—I knew too much."
His breath tightened.
His voice was raw now.
"And now, he's here. Trying to finish what he started."
For the first time—
Tatsuya's smirk faded.
His expression hardened.
His voice lowered.
"You wouldn't understand, Kouko."
His tone was flat. Final.
"It's not about you."
Kouko staggered back, her breath coming in uneven bursts.
Her hands shook at her sides, fingers curling as if grasping for something—anything—to ground her.
But the words wouldn't come.
She looked at Ili.
At his clenched fists, the raw betrayal simmering in his storm-gray eyes.
At Tatsuya, standing there with that infuriating smirk, like this was nothing more than a well-rehearsed performance.
At **Haru, Rina, Mika, Daiki—**their faces etched with something close to grief.
And then, she did the only thing she could do.
She denied it.
"This… this isn't true."
Her voice wavered, but she forced it out.
Ili's gaze snapped to her, something inside him visibly shattering.
"What?"
Kouko's fingers curled into fists.
She swallowed hard, her chest aching as she forced herself to meet his gaze.
"Tatsuya wouldn't do that."
Ili's entire body stiffened.
"Kouko."
Why does she sound like she's trying to convince herself?
Kouko's breath hitched, panic rising as she dug her heels deeper into denial.
"This doesn't make sense, Ili! You—you're just confused! You don't remember things right—"
The words hit something deep inside him.
You don't remember things right.
His breath caught.
Something inside him **lurched—**a sickening feeling, like the ground had been ripped from beneath him.
Haven't I heard this before?
Flashes of soft light filtering through wisteria trees.
A voice—broken, pleading.
"I'd rather fade than lose you. Don't do this, Ili."
His vision blurred for a moment.
Kouko's face seemed to overlap with something else—
A girl, reaching for him, fading like mist.
And then—
Laughter.
Low.
Quiet.
Mocking.
Ili's head snapped up, the memory vanishing in an instant.
Tatsuya was watching him.
That same smirk.
That same knowing look.
Like he had seen this exact moment before.
Ili's blood ran cold.
Tatsuya took a casual step forward.
"See, Kouko?"
His voice was too calm. Too composed.
It made Ili's skin crawl.
"He's losing it."
Tatsuya's gaze slid back to Ili, his smirk widening.
"Right on schedule."
Ili's fingers curled into fists.
"You—"
"Ili, stop."
Kouko's voice was sharp now. Frantic.
He froze.
And then—she stepped between them.
Her back to him.
Facing Tatsuya.
Defending Tatsuya.
Ili stared.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
A sharp, searing pain dug into his chest.
Like something breaking.
Like something shattering all over again.
Just like—
"You have to let me go, Ili."
"I promise I'll find you again."
The tension crackled in the air.
Kouko stood her ground.
Ili couldn't breathe.
Tatsuya tilted his head, watching it all unfold.
Enjoying it.
Then—
A voice.
Soft.
Barely above a whisper.
"We're too late."
Ili's head snapped toward Haru.
His face was pale, resigned.
Behind him, Mika, Rina, and Daiki wouldn't meet Ili's eyes.
Kouko turned, her voice breaking.
"What do you mean, too late?"
Silence.
Haru's gaze lingered on Ili.
Like he had seen this exact moment before.
Like he knew what came next.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper—
"It's happening."