The night draped the ANHS campus in velvet silence, pierced only by the gentle rustling of wind through manicured trees. Under the pale, scattered stars, Ryota sat alone on a bench at the edge of the school grounds—eyes fixed on the infinite horizon.
It was late, yet the world felt awake in his mind.Thoughts flowed endlessly. Not chaotic, but constant—like a river that never stops seeking the sea.
He didn't know why tonight felt different. But something ticked. A presence. A name.A rhythm long forgotten tapped faintly in his chest.
He turned his head.
A silhouette approached, quiet and unhurried, gliding through the dim like a ghost.
Ryota didn't move. He simply watched. The figure stepped into the pale moonlight, revealing itself—familiar features carved by time and growth, but unmistakably him.
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.
Neither spoke.
The seconds stretched between them like the distance they hadn't bridged in years.
Finally, Ryota broke the silence, voice soft but certain.
"I wasn't expecting you to be the one to take the first step."
Kiyotaka's expression remained unreadable, his voice calm, yet edged with something raw.
"I did it because I was... disappointed."
A pause.
"Disappointed that you didn't."
Ryota gave a short, knowing breath that could have been a laugh, or maybe just air escaping reflection.
"So, you kept a lasting impression of me.Dangerous, Ayanokoji.You shouldn't grow so confident in the idea you have of me."
He rose slowly from the bench, the moonlight catching in his eyes like blades of silver.
"Still, I heard about what's been going on in this place.Class 1-D... You've made quite the stir.Even I didn't expect you to be that... active."
Kiyotaka didn't flinch.
"I'm not here for your compliments, Ryota.I came for something else."
Ryota tilted his head slightly, intrigued.
"Oh? And what might that be?"
Kiyotaka stepped forward, not closing the distance between them, but just enough to make his presence unmistakable.
"We both know what this school is.An artificial world. A system designed to emulate the real one.A battleground where manipulation wears a uniform."
He looked directly into Ryota's eyes.
"And now that I'm here... and you're here... I think it's time we decide how this story between us plays out."
Ryota's smile faded. His gaze sharpened.
"What do you propose?"
Kiyotaka didn't hesitate.
"A competition.You and me.Not as representatives of our classes—but as what we are.Two ideologies. Two products of opposite worlds.It's only right that we finally face each other...To decide who walks above the rest."
A long silence. The wind paused too, as if the world waited for Ryota's answer.
He didn't speak.
He only stared—deeply, sharply—into Kiyotaka's face, as if searching for a crack in the armor. A doubt. A lie.
There was none.
Kiyotaka turned.
"I'll wait for your response."
And with those words, he disappeared into the night, his footsteps fading toward the dorms.
Ryota remained standing.
His hands in his pockets. His thoughts loud.
The horizon still stretched ahead, endless and unknown.But now, there was someone else staring into it with him.