The classroom was unusually quiet that morning. It wasn't the ordinary quiet of tired students waiting for class to begin; it was heavier, almost uncomfortable, like the air itself was holding its breath. Ren Aizawa noticed it the moment he stepped inside. He paused for a brief moment near the door, feeling an invisible pressure that made his instincts uneasy. Around him, twenty-seven students sat at their desks, some whispering to friends, others scrolling through their phones, and a few staring lazily out the windows. To anyone else, everything would have looked completely normal. But Ren knew better.
He walked slowly to his usual seat by the window and placed his bag down. Ren had always been quiet, the kind of student people rarely noticed. That suited him perfectly. Being unnoticed made it easier to observe others, and observing people was something Ren did constantly. He noticed details most people ignored—the twitch of someone's lips when they lied, the restless tapping of fingers when they were nervous, the way eyes shifted when someone was hiding something. But what Ren truly sensed wasn't behavior. It was intention.
He didn't know when this strange awareness had begun. Perhaps it had always been there. Whenever someone lied, he could feel it like a distortion in the air. Whenever someone secretly hated another person, he sensed a sharp heaviness behind their actions. And when someone wanted to hurt someone… that intention carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. Most intentions were light and ordinary—jealousy, curiosity, boredom, annoyance. But sometimes, rarely, there were darker ones.
Ren glanced out the window at the gray sky, thick clouds gathering as if rain was about to fall, when suddenly the classroom door burst open. A girl rushed inside, breathing heavily, her face pale with panic. "Did you hear?!" she blurted out loudly. The class immediately turned toward her with confusion. "Hear what?" someone asked. She hesitated before speaking again, her voice shaking. "Someone jumped from the school roof."
The room instantly filled with shocked voices. Students gasped, whispering to each other in disbelief. "What?!" "Are you serious?" "Who was it?" Ren didn't react outwardly, but inside his mind something shifted. Jumped? Slowly he closed his eyes and focused. Intentions filled the room like invisible threads—fear, shock, confusion, curiosity. All normal reactions. But among those emotions, Ren sensed something different.
One intention felt completely out of place.
It wasn't shocked. It wasn't scared.
It was calm.
Too calm.
Ren opened his eyes and quietly scanned the classroom, row by row, desk by desk, until his gaze stopped three rows ahead. A girl with long black hair tied in a loose ponytail sat leaning slightly against her desk, her chin resting on her hand. Her expression looked relaxed, almost bored. But what caught Ren's attention wasn't her expression—it was her intention. Unlike everyone else's chaotic reactions, hers was steady and focused, as if she were carefully observing the entire room.
Then, as if sensing his gaze, the girl looked back.
Their eyes met.
Sharp, intelligent eyes stared directly into Ren's, and for a moment neither of them looked away. Then she smiled. It wasn't a normal smile. It was the smile of someone who had just solved a puzzle.
At that moment the classroom door opened again and the teacher walked in. The noise died immediately. The teacher looked unusually pale as he placed his books on the desk and cleared his throat. "There has been… an incident this morning," he said quietly. The students leaned forward nervously. "A student from Class 3-B was found on the ground near the courtyard." Someone gasped softly in the back. "The staff believes… it was suicide."
Whispers spread through the classroom again. Ren felt the emotions swirling in the air—fear, sadness, discomfort. But the girl in front of him remained completely calm. Slowly she raised her hand.
The teacher looked at her. "Yes… Tachibana?"
So that was her name.
Mira Tachibana.
She tilted her head slightly and asked in a calm voice, "Sir, did anyone see him jump?"
The teacher hesitated. "…No."
Mira nodded thoughtfully. "Then how do we know it was suicide?"
The classroom fell silent again. The teacher frowned, unsure how to respond. "That's… what the staff believes," he said finally.
Mira leaned back in her chair, her eyes slowly scanning the room until they stopped on Ren again. Her smile widened slightly. Ren felt a strange sensation from her intention. It wasn't simple curiosity—it was something sharper, something dangerous, like a mind testing a theory.
Then she spoke again, her voice softer now.
"But that's strange," she said.
Her eyes locked onto Ren's.
"Because if someone truly wanted to die… their intention would feel completely different."
Ren's heart skipped a beat. For the first time in years, someone had said something impossible—something only he should understand. Mira wasn't guessing.
She knew.
The bell rang loudly, signaling the end of the period, and students began leaving the classroom. But Mira didn't move. She simply watched Ren, patiently, like a hunter studying its prey. Finally she stood and walked past his desk, stopping beside him. Without looking directly at him she spoke quietly.
"Ren Aizawa."
Ren froze. He had never told her his name.
Slowly she turned her head toward him, her eyes shining with curiosity.
"You felt it too, didn't you?"
Ren stayed silent.
Mira leaned slightly closer and whispered, "The intention of the person who pushed him."
Ren's mind went blank. Pushed? But the teachers had said—
She smiled again.
"And the most interesting part…" she continued softly, "…is that the killer is sitting in this classroom."
Ren's chest tightened.
Before he could respond, she whispered one final sentence.
"And right now…"
Her eyes slowly scanned the room.
"…they're listening to us."
At that exact moment, Ren felt it.
A new intention.
Heavy.
Cold.
And filled with killing intent.
Right behind him.
End of Chapter 1