Midnight. A thin rain fell like cold needles, piercing the skin as if the sky knew what was coming. I climbed the stairs to the school building, my footsteps echoing like distant laughs in the dark. The rooftop was unlocked – someone had planned this.
The wind howled, rattling the rusted railings. There she was, leaning against the edge, staring at the city like she owned it. Neon-purple hair glowing like a broken sign in a dirty alley, sloppy uniform with the skirt fluttering slightly, black lipstick smudged as if she'd kissed chaos itself. Eyes like black holes – they didn't blink, they just swallowed everything around them.
Hanako Himitsu. Senior year, same class as me. I'd never noticed her. She was the kind of girl who blended into the crowd, like a clown waiting for the right moment to paint her face. But she had noticed me.
— You came — she said, her voice too sweet for a night like this. Like cotton candy mixed with poison. — I knew you would. Because you laughed.
Most people cry. Despair. Break. But you laughed.
A low, hoarse laugh… beautiful.
I knew you were special, Satori-kun.
She raised her phone. The betrayal video playing in 4K, zoomed in on my laughing face in the corner of the equipment room. I looked so calm. So… empty.
— I sent the note. I wanted to see if you were like me. And you are. You just needed a little push.
She stepped closer, slow steps, strawberry candy smell invading my space. Like she'd eaten a whole bag before coming, to sweeten the poison.
— Want revenge? Not just on Mizuki. On everyone who turned you into a ghost. The parents who adopted you to show off like a trophy and then threw you away. The school that humiliates you every day, calls you the invisible nerd. And her… who cheated on you while you paid for the movies.
She held out her hand. A black pen drive, simple, like a loaded bullet.
— Everything's here. The parents who adopted you to show off. The school that humiliates you every day. And me. I'll help you.
But there's one condition: When it's the school's turn, I'm part of the show. Both of us. Together. What do you say, partner?
I looked at her hand. At the pen drive. At my reflection in her eyes.
And I laughed again. Louder this time. Freer. Like the laugh was the only sound that made sense in the world.
— Partner — I answered, taking the pen drive. — I never had one.
That night I accepted. Later, I plugged the pen drive into my old laptop. Files upon files of proof: emails from my adoptive parents talking about me as a "social investment," school photos where I was the joke target, and videos… videos of Mizuki with other guys.
I watched them all. Laughed even more.
And that same night I bought the guns and explosives online, using my "father's" card that I'd hacked years ago.
But now I had a co-writer. A partner who saw the world like I did: one big circus waiting to burn.