The morning started with its usual silence.
I entered the classroom five minutes before the bell — intentionally. Early enough to notice who comes first. Late enough to see who tries not to be seen.
My seat was by the window. The best spot for observation. Perfect for being both part of the room — and apart from it.
Kento never showed up.
The teacher walked past his empty chair as if he'd never existed. No questions. Not a single glance.
The others, too. Zero reaction.
People get used to disappearances too easily when the system expects it.
I shifted my gaze to Aoi.
She was chewing gum (a rule violation), balancing on the back legs of her chair.
That silly smile. Staring at the ceiling. Occasionally doodling flowers in her notebook.
A classic distraction tactic.
But I saw it — a quick glance at Kento's seat. Just once. One second. No surprise.
She knew.
During the break, she walked up to me.
"Hey, Takumi, do you like fruit?"
"Not really."
"Well, I love grapes! Especially the ones you can't see." — she winked and dropped a candy in my hand. — "Don't trust the flashy ones, they're often rotten inside. Better to choose the quiet ones."
I looked at her.
She was smiling playfully, but her words carried too much meaning.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. I just love fruit." — she faked a cough and walked away.
You just gave me a message, didn't you? — I thought.
That evening in the dorm, I opened my notebook.
Observations: 3
Aoi — pretending. Behavior is an act. Remarks — coded.
"Invisible grapes" — a metaphor. A hint about hidden players in the class? Or about me?
Later I stepped out onto the balcony. A light breeze.
Voices echoed from downstairs — someone was arguing.
I closed my eyes.
Everyone thinks life here is just normal school routine.
But rules and order — are just a curtain.
The real game has begun.
And they don't even know they're part of it.