Misaki watched Kaito. Always had. Even if she didn't admit it to herself. He was different—not in a cool or popular way, but like a scratch on the screen you can't wipe away. Annoying. And yet… interesting.
When the teacher went haywire like a damaged automaton, it was Kaito who moved. Not her. Not her system. Not the high achievers who handled everything with a flick of their hand. No—the boy without a system was the only one who acted.
That night she lay on her bed. The system display flickered. "Update: Kaito Arasaka recognized as unregistered entity. Report him?" The button blinked red.
Misaki stared at it. Her fingers trembled slightly.
"No," she whispered. "Not yet."
The next day the incident was officially "unnoticed." The school acted as if nothing had happened. The teacher was replaced. Kaito received no thanks. Only more stares. And yet… she had seen something. Something she couldn't forget: fear—not in Kaito. But in the system.
Standing on the roof during lunch break, Kaito approached her. Unasked. Unfiltered. Unavoidable.
"You looked at me like I was an error," he said.
"You are one," she replied. "But that makes you interesting."
A strange bond began to form. No trust. But no hate either. An alliance of uncertainty.
Misaki didn't know why she was standing against the system.
But she knew Kaito was the key to something bigger.