The digital clock on the desk glowed 11:45 PM. Sayori's neck was bone-dry and stiff from holding the same position for hours. Before her lay the pages of her fourth practice exam, bleeding with notes scribbled in Akane's sharp red ink.
Akane sat in the chair beside her, looking as fresh and flawless as if she hadn't spent the last three hours explaining complex physics formulas. There wasn't a single slump in her posture. She twirled her pen elegantly between her fingers while scrutinizing Sayori's latest equation.
"You calculated the acceleration wrong here, Sayori," Akane said. Her voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable authority. "You can't ignore friction. Just like in real life. If you want to move forward, you have to account for the invisible resistances pulling you back."
Sayori nodded, reaching for her eraser. "You're right. I overlooked that part."
In the corner of the room, Kunon leaned against his headboard, a thick book resting on his knees. He appeared entirely indifferent to their presence. He flipped the pages at steady intervals, his existence marked only by the light rustle of paper. However, Sayori could tell he was listening to every word. Whenever Akane dropped one of those "real life" metaphors, the muscle in Kunon's jaw would give a rhythmic, almost imperceptible twitch.
Akane set the red pen down and folded her hands over her knees. "That's enough. Your mind is saturated. You need time to digest the information." She tilted her head slightly, studying Sayori's face. "You're ambitious, Sayori. It's a good trait. But your ambition wasn't what surprised me when I first entered this room."
Sayori dropped her pen and turned to her. "What was it then?"
Akane's gaze drifted toward Kunon at the far end of the room before snapping back to Sayori. "That Kunon is able to share a room with someone. More than that—that he allows this person to sit so close to his workspace. Kunon is obsessive about his boundaries. Breaking through his walls... isn't something just anyone can do."
Sayori felt the subtle interrogation beneath those words. This wasn't a casual observation; it was a probe for information.
"We're just roommates," Sayori said, keeping her voice as flat as possible. "There are no walls to break. We just have rules. He doesn't touch my things, and I don't touch his. It's a functional arrangement, that's all."
Kunon's hand paused for a heartbeat as he was about to turn a page, but he didn't look up.
Akane offered a thin smile—one so measured it was impossible to tell if it was sincere or mocking. "A functional arrangement," she repeated. "I like that choice of words. Harmony isn't always easy to achieve."
Just then, the dormitory door was hammered with enough force to suggest a battering ram. The tense, calculated silence of the room shattered instantly.
"Sayoriiii! The rescue squad is here! We brought sugar and carbs to stop your brain from melting!"
Sakura's cheerful shriek echoed from the hallway. Sayori pressed a hand to her forehead. Perfect timing. Dealing with Sakura's uncontrollable energy in front of someone like Akane was harder than solving any physics equation.
"I didn't know they were coming," Sayori muttered, standing up.
The moment she swung the door open, Sakura burst in clutching two giant bags of chips and a handful of energy drinks. Following behind was Kyoko, her expression calm and observant as usual.
"Alright, close those textbooks and—"
Sakura's sentence cut off like a snapped wire the moment she spotted Akane sitting by the desk. Her feet seemed to glue themselves to the floor. Her eyes darted from Akane to the silent Kunon, then back to Akane. One of the chip bags slipped from her hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
"President..." Sakura stammered. Her voice, once booming, had shrunk to a whisper. She doubled over in a sudden, exaggerated bow. "President Akane! What... what are you doing here? I mean, obviously, the whole school is yours, but... in our room... Sayori's room..."
Kyoko leaned down to retrieve the fallen chips, her eyes narrowing as she analyzed the scene. The school's most untouchable girl, the school's most mysterious boy, and their scholarship-student friend. This triangle set off every alarm bell in Kyoko's detective mind.
"Hello, Akane," Kyoko said evenly. "Are you giving private lessons? Or did we just crash a secret Student Council meeting?"
Akane rose gracefully. Her perfect composure remained unruffled by Sakura's chaos. "Hello, Kyoko, Sakura. We were just reviewing some old notes for Sayori's upcoming scholarship exam. Kunon mentioned how hard she's been working, and I wanted to share some resources."
Kyoko's gaze shifted to Kunon. "Kunon mentioned it? How thoughtful. I didn't know he worried so much about others."
Kunon closed his book slowly and looked up. When his eyes met Kyoko's piercing stare, they were voids of emotion. "Sayori staying in this room is beneficial for my routine," he said, repeating the same excuse he had given Sayori before. "If she loses the scholarship, my order is disrupted. That's all."
Sakura swallowed hard. She was still hovering near the doorframe, not quite daring to step fully into the room. Ever since seeing Kunon working as a waiter at Vesta Cafe, being around him was stressful enough; adding the principal's daughter to the mix was overkill.
"We... I think we came at the wrong time," Sakura said, taking a step back. "You were working. We just wanted to check if Sayori was still alive."
"I'm alive, Sakura," Sayori said, trying to diffuse the air. "Just tired. We were finishing up anyway."
Akane tucked her bag over her shoulder, carefully placing her red pen and notebook inside. "Sayori is right; I was just leaving. You should get some sleep before tomorrow's classes, Sayori."
As Akane walked toward the door, Sakura practically flattened herself against the wall to let her pass. Akane stopped at the threshold and turned back to Kyoko and Sakura. "It's wonderful that you support your friend. However, she needs focus during this critical week. If you plan your visits more carefully, it will be much easier for Sayori to reach her goals."
The sentence was framed as polite advice, but the underlying message was a clear "leave her alone." Kyoko caught the hint instantly; one of her eyebrows twitched upward, but she remained silent.
Akane turned back to Sayori and handed her a sealed yellow envelope. "I almost forgot. I prepared a special practice test for you to solve before bed. It's from my private archive. Just for you."
Sayori took the envelope. The paper felt thicker, higher quality than standard workbooks. "Thank you, Akane. For everything."
"Until next time," Akane said, her confident heels clicking down the hallway until the sound faded.
The silence lasted for several seconds. Then, Sakura let out a long, suffocating breath and collapsed backward onto Sayori's bed.
"I almost fainted!" Sakura groaned. "What is Akane doing here, Sayori? And Kunon called her? What is the deal with those two? They work together at the cafe, now she's in the room... I swear, I couldn't even breathe."
Kyoko leaned against the desk, arms crossed. Her eyes were fixed on Kunon. "You didn't arrange a private tutor just to keep the room quiet, did you, Kunon? Akane doesn't go out of her way for anyone."
Kunon stood up, stretching his neck until it cracked. Instead of answering Kyoko, he grabbed a clean towel from his locker. "I'm taking a shower. Close the door quietly when you're done talking. The noise gives me a headache."
As the bathroom door locked and the sound of running water filled the room, Kyoko leaned in close to Sayori. Her voice was a mere whisper.
"There's something wrong with that girl, Sayori. She acts like she's helping you, but she's actually studying you. It's like she's using you to test Kunon."
Sayori gripped the yellow envelope. She knew Kyoko's observations mirrored her own gut feeling. "I just have to focus on the exam, Kyoko. Nothing else matters right now. I have to keep this scholarship."
Sakura sat up. "Fine, fine. We won't stress you out more. We're going. But after the exam, you're giving me a full report on Akane and Kunon, deal?"
Once the girls left, Sayori took a deep breath. She glanced at the bathroom door; the steady rhythm of the shower was strangely grounding. She sat back at her desk, her goal clear: solve Akane's final test and sleep.
She carefully peeled back the adhesive on the yellow envelope. Inside was a stapled packet of several pages. The first page contained complex math problems. Akane had indeed chosen the hardest questions. Sayori picked up her pen and began to work. For twenty minutes, she fought with numbers and variables.
As she turned the pages, the structure of the test changed. The math and science questions vanished, replaced by long, scenario-based logic prompts. When she reached the final page, Sayori's pen froze in mid-air.
At the very top, written in a different font than the rest, was a single question. It had no point value, no multiple-choice options. Just a short paragraph followed by a single blank line.
Sayori felt the air leave her lungs as she read:
"When a subject is placed in a new, uncontrollable environment, they utilize aggressive isolation tactics to mask past traumas. However, the consistent and rule-bound nature of the adjacent individual has created an unexpected sense of 'trust' in the subject. Question: If this 'trust' element is removed from Subject 4's adaptation process, what is the estimated time until system collapse?"
Sayori's eyes scanned the words again and again. This wasn't an exam question. This wasn't a math problem.
This was an evaluation report. It was a psychological profile of Kunon.
Subject 4. The same words she had seen in Kunon's black notebook months ago were now staring back at her from Akane's "practice test." Sayori couldn't stop the slight tremor in her hands. Akane hadn't given her this by mistake. Akane didn't make mistakes. She had put this here intentionally.
But why? To warn her? Or to threaten her?
"The trust element..." Sayori whispered. She was the trust element. Akane knew Sayori had become a stabilizer for Kunon. And if Sayori lost her scholarship and left this room, that balance would shatter.
The bathroom door swung open abruptly. A cloud of warm steam drifted into the room as Kunon stepped out, water dripping from his hair onto his collarbone.
Sayori shoved the paper under the other tests. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, threatening to break through the disciplined walls she had built.
Kunon didn't miss the sudden movement. His eyes narrowed. He slung the towel around his neck and took a heavy step toward the desk.
"What did you just hide?" Kunon asked. His voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Sayori swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his dark, questioning gaze. Time was running out, and Sayori realized she was no longer just a student—she was a piece in a very dark game.
The silence hung suspended in the room, waiting for an answer.