The Ghost in ClassRoom
The classroom buzzed with the usual mindless chatter.
Giggles. Whispered gossip. The click of a mechanical pencil.
A predictable rhythm. A symphony of routine.
Ryo Kisaragi sat at his usual spot—back row, seat near the window. A vantage point that granted him an unobstructed view of the entire classroom. To anyone watching, he appeared bored, lost in thought, perhaps even half-asleep.
But silence was never empty.
It was calculation.
It was pattern recognition.
Every flicker of movement. Every shift in posture. Every twitch of a nervous hand—he absorbed them all.
Tick.
The second hand on the clock inched forward.
Forty-two seconds until the teacher sighed in frustration.
Five seconds until the girl in the third row dropped her pen.
Three more glances from the boy near the door at his phone, waiting for a message that wouldn't come.
The world followed a script, dictated by routine.
And Ryo had mastered reading it.
Four. A twitch of fingers.
Three. A nervous breath.
Two. A tiny hesitation.
One. The pen slips.
It clattered to the floor.
Perfectly on time.
Not because of chance. But because people were predictable.
But then—
Something changed.
A disruption in the pattern.
Subtle. Almost imperceptible. But undeniable.
Ryo didn't move. Didn't shift his gaze. But he knew.
Someone was watching him.
---
The Predator's Gaze
It wasn't paranoia.
It wasn't instinct.
It was data.
The air in the room hadn't changed in temperature. The conversations continued at their usual pace. No one had made any sudden movements. And yet—
Something was different.
A delay in the usual laughter. A breath held too long. A gaze that lingered just a fraction of a second more than it should have.
It was deliberate.
It was calculated.
Ryo had spent years perfecting his invisibility. A ghost among the living.
Yet today—
He had been seen.
The realization sent a ripple through his thoughts, but his expression remained frozen, passive. He wouldn't allow even a flicker of emotion to betray him.
Without turning his head, his mind had already narrowed down the source.
Front row. Third seat.
Sera Yukishiro.
She sat with perfect posture, fingers resting lightly against her desk, her face an unreadable mask. Composed. Collected. Dangerous.
Ryo had known of her, of course. Everyone did.
Billionaire father.
Child prodigy.
A mind that had been ranked among the top in the nation.
And now, for the first time, that mind had turned its focus onto him.
---
The Watcher Becomes the Watched
Their eyes met.
A fraction of a second. A silent war.
Sera didn't flinch. Didn't look away.
She held his gaze with the ease of someone who had been measuring people her entire life.
Her fingers tapped lightly against the desk—controlled, rhythmic.
One. Two. Three.
A test.
She was waiting for a reaction. A sign of discomfort. A crack in his disguise.
Ryo gave her nothing.
His gaze remained steady, but his mind raced through possibilities.
Why now?
Why him?
He had taken every precaution to remain unnoticed. To be a background character in the grand play of life.
But she had singled him out.
Which meant… she saw something she shouldn't have.
The thought was dangerous.
Interest was dangerous.
It was the first step toward a hunt.
And Sera Yukishiro was a hunter.
She would test him.
A question. A challenge disguised as casual conversation.
A trap so finely woven that most wouldn't even realize they had stepped into it.
If he responded too quickly, she'd know he was thinking ahead.
If he responded too slowly, she'd suspect he was pretending.
If he ignored her, she would force him to acknowledge her.
Checkmate in three moves.
The classroom noise faded into the background. The game had already begun.
And for the first time in years—
Ryo Kisaragi wasn't sure who would win.
---
A Game of Shadows
The teacher's voice droned on at the front of the classroom, but Ryo wasn't listening.
His mind worked through the variables.
Sera hadn't approached him yet.
That was important. It meant she was still gathering data. Still uncertain.
Which meant—
She had noticed something.
But she didn't know what it was yet.
That gave Ryo an opening.
Control the narrative.
Feed her false data.
He blinked, shifting slightly in his seat as if adjusting his posture. A subtle move—just enough to imply discomfort, as if her gaze had made him uneasy.
A small crack, deliberately placed.
A bait.
Sera's fingers stilled.
For the first time, her expression changed. A flicker of interest.
Hooked.
She was too smart to jump immediately, but the trap had been set.
Now, it was only a matter of time.
---
The Aura of a King
Lunch break arrived.
As students poured out of the classroom, Ryo remained seated, casually flipping through his notebook.
Sera didn't move either.
She was waiting.
Testing his patience.
He sighed internally. Predictable.
Finally, she stood, her steps slow and deliberate as she approached his desk.
"Ryo Kisaragi," she said. Not a question. A statement.
He didn't respond immediately. A calculated delay—just enough to make her wonder.
Then, he lifted his gaze, meeting hers with an expression of polite indifference.
"You know my name," he said, voice smooth, unreadable.
Sera smiled slightly. A move that wasn't meant to be friendly.
"You're interesting."
A simple phrase. But loaded with meaning.
A declaration of war.
Ryo tilted his head slightly. "I doubt that."
"Do you?" Sera leaned forward slightly, her presence pressing against him, testing the limits of his composure.
Ryo simply closed his notebook and stood.
And for the first time—he let her feel it.
The air shifted.
An invisible force pressed down on the space between them.
A presence so sharp, so overwhelming, that for a brief moment—Sera froze.
It wasn't something she could explain.
It wasn't something she could counter.
It was the undeniable weight of a king.
The realization flickered in her eyes.
Ryo didn't need to fight. Didn't need to intimidate.
Because he had already won.
He stepped past her, leaving her standing alone at his desk.
The game had only just begun.
And Sera Yukishiro was already playing catch-up.