Rain pounded against the tall windows of Headmaster Arisugawa's office, creating a steady noise that filled the tense silence between him and the other person in the room. The headmaster sat stiffly behind his worn oak desk, while Ren Kisaragi leaned back casually, hands in his pockets, seeming unbothered by the storm outside or the tension inside.
A thick report rested on the desk, its pages worn from constant handling. Arisugawa tapped the file and said, "Takumi Hayashi. Second-year. Broken nose, two fractured ribs, a concussion. His friends are also in the infirmary." He pushed the report forward, looking serious. "Witnesses say you're responsible."
Ren stayed calm, his expression revealing nothing. He spoke steadily, "They were cornering someone behind the gym. I stepped in. It didn't sit right with me."
Arisugawa frowned, disappointment growing on his face. "Stepped in? According to witnesses, you provoked Takumi and took down half the rugby team in less than ten seconds. That's not intervention. That's chaos."
Ren shrugged, a small smile appearing. "Takumi's predictable. He always charges in. It makes him easy to handle." He glanced at the rain-smeared window, where the outside world looked gray and swirling. "At least it's quieter now."
"Quieter?" Arisugawa raised his voice, frustration filling his words. "Kisaragi, you've started a wildfire in this school! They're calling you the Black Monarch. Some say you have military training, while others think you've made dark deals. And Sato—the boy you 'rescued'? He's praising you while those you hurt can barely speak."
For the first time, Ren smiled slightly. "Sounds like a fair exchange to me."
Arisugawa rubbed his nose, his patience thinning. "Detention won't help. Suspension will only feed into your reputation. So I ask again—what do you hope to gain? You barely know Sato."
Ren finally looked at the headmaster, his gaze steady and without regret. "Takumi was loud. Just a broken instrument screeching away. So I silenced him."
The rain filled the silence that followed. Finally, Arisugawa leaned back and sighed. "Fine. Officially, I will say you intervened in a conflict. Excessive force noted. Unofficially—try not to send anyone else to the infirmary before midterms. We're low on ice packs."
Ren stood up, a smirk on his lips. "I'll consider it."
He started toward the door, but Arisugawa's voice stopped him. "Kisaragi. If you're so eager to break patterns, why not start with your calculus grades?"
Ren didn't reply. As he stepped into the hallway, students went quiet, their eyes wide as he passed. Whispers began—"Black Monarch… Did you see what he did?" A first-year student flinched, clutching their textbooks, caught between fear and admiration.
Ren ignored them. The attention, rumors, and fear were background noise to him. What he wanted was silence.
At the end of the corridor, a voice came from the shadows, full of anger.
"This isn't over, freak."
Takumi, bandaged and using crutches, glared at Ren with hatred.
Ren continued walking, his voice cold as he replied, "It already is."
His footsteps echoed as he moved away, a steady march toward freedom, while Takumi's glare lingered behind him.