A glimmer? But it's not of hope

The classroom was still lost in naive optimism, clinging to the belief that someone—anyone—would step forward to testify for Sudo. A witness would make things easier, but in truth, the case wasn't about proving his innocence. It was about proving that Class C had fabricated the entire situation.

Ayanokoji sat in his usual spot, radiating calm detachment. His gaze flickered between the students, taking in their futile discussions. Beside him, Horikita's fingers drummed lightly against the desk, frustration creeping into her expression. She had been running the same thoughts through her mind over and over, searching for a breakthrough.

She already knew the truth—Class C had orchestrated this. They knew Sudo's nature, knew exactly how to provoke him. While Sudo was far from blameless, the fact remained that Class C had engineered the perfect scenario to make him look irredeemable. The school couldn't ignore Sudo's violence, but neither could they overlook the deliberate provocation.

But one question gnawed at her.

Why?

She turned her head slightly, her sharp gaze landing on Ayanokoji, who was still watching the class with that same unreadable expression. Finally, with a sigh, he spoke.

"What is it?"

Horikita didn't hesitate. "What do you think? About all of this. Not just what's happening, but why."

Ayanokoji adjusted his tie, his voice carrying an air of effortless certainty. "Isn't it obvious?" He didn't wait for a response. "They're testing the waters. How the school handles student conflicts, the severity of punishment, the extent of leniency… It's all a carefully crafted experiment."

Horikita's brow furrowed. "So if Sudo gets expelled, we lose class points, and the gap between Class D and Class C widens…" She trailed off, her mind connecting the dots.

"They're thinking ahead," Ayanokoji confirmed. "Weakening us at the start of the school year, cutting off our ability to compete before we even find our footing. It's a move designed to cripple us while they set their sights on something bigger."

Horikita exhaled sharply. "They're treating us like we're already out of the running." A hint of irritation slipped into her voice.

Ayanokoji, as expected, remained unbothered. "It's understandable. Class D is full of students considered defective by the school's standards. It makes sense they'd push us aside early." He paused. "Still, losing class points right now would be an inconvenience, so I'll step in."

Horikita shot him a skeptical look. "Yeah, right…"

---

Elsewhere…

The golden hues of the setting sun stretched across the school grounds, casting long shadows on the pavement. A soft breeze played with the strands of Kushida Kikyou's hair as she walked at a leisurely pace toward the dormitories.

Then, her phone vibrated.

She stopped mid-step.

Her head tilted slightly, eyes widening as she read the message.

For a moment, she simply stood there. Then, she lifted her gaze, scanning her surroundings. The area was quiet—too quiet. She pursed her lips, as if considering something, then slipped her phone into her bag.

A slow smile curled at the edges of her lips as she resumed walking.

Not far behind, concealed within the trees, Whis watched her with narrowed eyes. His grip tightened around his phone before he raised it to his ear.

Ring. Ring.

"Nero," he said the moment the call connected. "Kushida got the video."

A pause.

"Then everything is going according to plan."

Whis smirked. "Now we just have to wait and see. If she shares it, we'll know where she truly stands."

"If she keeps it to herself, then she contradicts everything she's claimed about wanting to help Class D."

Whis exhaled, watching as Kushida disappeared into the distance. "Understood. I'll make my move soon."

"Good. Keep me updated."

Click.

Whis lowered his phone, his expression unreadable.

"Let's see what you'll do, Kushida."

---

The Next Day

Friday morning.

Horikita sat at her desk, arms crossed, her sharp gaze observing the classroom. Nearby, Hirata and Kei were engaged in conversation, their voices hushed but urgent. Ayanokoji, as always, remained detached, silently flipping through his book.

The classroom door opened. Whis stepped in, his movements casual, his gaze sweeping across the room. He noted the usual patterns—Sakura Airi sitting quietly in her own little world, Kushida bouncing between conversations, maintaining her carefully curated image.

Now.

Time to test her.

"Horikita," Whis called out, making sure his voice was loud enough for others to hear. "Any leads on the witness?"

The entire room shifted its attention.

Horikita sighed, already expecting the question. "No."

Whis raised an eyebrow at her blunt response before turning to Kei. "What do you think? Could there be a witness who's choosing to stay silent?"

A few students exchanged glances.

Sakura Airi flinched—just barely—but Whis caught it. Interesting.

Before he could push further, a soft, almost innocent voice chimed in.

"That would be awful," Kushida said, clasping her hands together. "If someone really did see what happened, they should step up for Sudo's sake. His entire future is at stake."

Her voice was gentle, almost childlike in its sincerity.

Whis studied her.

Ayanokoji, meanwhile, remained as indifferent as ever, but his gaze flickered briefly toward Sakura Airi.

So that's how it is.

Neither of them were going to step forward.

Now, all that was left was to see what the White Room Masterpiece would do next.