New Game

The city was alive with movement. Cars hummed along the roads, conversations bled together into a distant murmur, neon lights flickered against the approaching dusk.

Ryo walked through the streets, blending into the shifting sea of people. But even here, he could feel it.

The shift.

It was subtle. Eyes lingering too long. Conversations pausing when he passed. The effect of Sera's attention was growing beyond the school.

And he hadn't even done anything yet.

That was the problem.

Fear was a weapon, but only if controlled. If left unchecked, it became chaos.

And right now, things were moving too fast.

He needed to act before the rumors shaped him into something he couldn't control.

The first move was his.

---

A Game of Control

He arrived home before the streetlights fully came to life. The small apartment was quiet, the familiar scent of old books and ink filling the space.

He closed the door behind him and exhaled.

Then, without hesitation, he reached for his phone.

One message.

From an unknown number.

"I'm impressed. Let's talk."

No name. But he didn't need one.

Sera.

She was accelerating the game. Testing how he'd respond.

Ryo leaned back against the wall, tapping his fingers against the screen in thought.

This wasn't a simple conversation she wanted. She was pushing him into making a move.

If he ignored it, she'd escalate. If he responded too soon, he'd be playing into her hands.

He had to set the pace.

He let the message sit. Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then two.

Finally, he typed one word.

"Where?"

A reply came almost instantly.

"The chess club. After hours."

Of course. A controlled setting, her domain. A place where she could test him, measure him.

Fine. Let's play.

---

The Meeting (Again)

The school was dark when he arrived. Most students had already left, but certain clubs lingered—debate, science, the occasional overachiever trying to perfect something pointless.

Ryo moved through the halls, unnoticed, unseen.

When he reached the chess club, the door was slightly open.

She was already inside.

The room was dimly lit, the overhead light casting a soft glow over a single chessboard.

Sera sat on one side, her hands resting lightly against the table, eyes locked onto him the moment he entered.

"You kept me waiting," she said, voice smooth, unreadable.

"You expected otherwise?" Ryo replied, taking the seat across from her.

A flicker of amusement crossed her face. "No. I expected exactly this."

She gestured to the board. The pieces were already set. A fresh game, waiting to be played.

"White or black?" she asked.

Ryo glanced at the board.

"Neither," he said.

Sera's lips curved into a smirk. "Interesting. Most people would want to choose."

"Most people care about which side they're on," Ryo replied. "I care about who wins."

A pause. Then a quiet chuckle.

"I see," Sera murmured. "You don't just want to play. You want to control the game itself."

She studied him for a long moment, then made the first move.

Pawn to e4.

A classic opening. Aggressive, assertive. A move designed to test response.

Ryo's gaze flickered to the board, but his focus wasn't on the pieces.

It was on her.

She wasn't playing chess. She was playing him.

Testing his patience. Measuring his reactions.

He reached out, not to move a piece, but to tip over his own king.

Sera blinked.

"You resign?"

"No," Ryo said calmly. "I reject the board."

Silence.

Then—something flickered in her expression.

Amusement. Intrigue.

And something else.

Admiration.

"You're different," she murmured. "I was right about you."

"Wrong," Ryo corrected. "You don't know anything yet."

Sera leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharp, her smirk widening.

"Then show me."

---

Unseen Forces

The days that followed were different.

The school had already changed, but now it was watching.

Not just the students. Not just the teachers.

Something deeper.

Ryo could feel it in the way certain people looked at him. The way conversations stopped when he entered a room—not out of curiosity, but out of caution.

Whispers turned into rumors.

Rumors turned into something worse.

And then, the first real warning arrived.

A note in his locker.

"You're getting too close to things you don't understand."

No name. No signature.

But the message was clear.

This wasn't about school politics anymore.

Something bigger was at play.

Something dangerous.

And Ryo was already in too deep.

---

The First Confrontation

It happened after school.

Ryo had been expecting it. The tension had been rising too fast for things to stay in the shadows for long.

He was alone when they approached.

Two figures. One in a school uniform. The other… something else.

The first was a student—someone he recognized from the background, but never bothered to know. The second was different. Older. Dressed in black. Not a student. Not a teacher.

A presence that didn't belong here.

Ryo stopped walking.

The student stepped forward first, trying to look confident. "You've been attracting a lot of attention, Ishikawa."

Ryo's gaze shifted slightly. "And?"

The student hesitated. Just for a moment. Then squared his shoulders. "You should be careful where you step."

A standard threat. Predictable.

But it wasn't the student that concerned him.

It was the man behind him.

The one who hadn't spoken.

Hadn't moved.

Hadn't even blinked.

He was just watching.

Measuring. Calculating.

Like a hunter studying prey.

Ryo met his gaze.

Silence stretched between them.

Then, finally, the man smiled.

Not a friendly smile. Not a threatening one.

Something worse.

Something that said: You don't even know what game you've stepped into.

Ryo's heartbeat remained steady.

He didn't respond. Didn't react.

Because right now, that was the smartest move.

The student shifted uncomfortably. "Just… be careful," he muttered, before turning away. The man followed, disappearing into the crowd like a shadow.

Ryo stood there for a long moment.

Then exhaled slowly.

This wasn't just about Sera anymore.

This wasn't just about school.

Something bigger was happening.

And whether he wanted to or not—

He was already part of it.