Masks and Motives

The classroom hummed with the usual midday chatter of Class C, students milling about between desks, some laughing, others doodling in their notebooks. Kudo Shinichi lounged in his chair near the window, spinning a pencil between his fingers as he chatted with Miyano Shiho, who leaned against a desk nearby, arms crossed and expression dry.

"—and then Mouri-oji-san tripped over the suspect's dog, landed face-first in a trash can, and still had the nerve to claim he 'solved the case,'" Kudo said, grinning. "I mean, the guy's a walking disaster—Ran had to fish him out while I dealt with the actual evidence."

Miyano's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Sounds like he's more entertainment than detective. How do you put up with him?"

"Barely," Kudo chuckled. "It's like babysitting a tornado. But he's got a knack for stumbling into the right place at the wrong time—keeps things interesting."

Their banter faltered as a familiar ruckus pulled their attention to the front of the room. Ike Kanji and Yamauchi Haruki were hovering around Kushida Kikyo's desk, their grins wide and shameless as they leaned in too close. Kushida was rifling through her bag, her short hair catching the light as she flashed them her usual radiant smile.

"Kushida-chan, you're looking extra cute today!" Ike said, nudging Yamauchi. "Right?"

"Yeah, totally! You're like, the angel of Class C!" Yamauchi added, practically drooling.

Kudo raised an eyebrow, waiting for the reaction—a blush, a scold, anything a typical high school girl might do. But Kushida just tilted her head, her smile unfaltering, and chirped, "Oh, thanks, you two! That's sweet of you to say."

The boys strutted off, high-fiving like they'd won a lottery, while Kushida turned back to her bag, her expression unchanged—perfectly serene.

Kudo glanced at Miyano, who was watching with a subtle frown. "Did you catch that?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

Miyano nodded, her eyes still on Kushida. "A normal high school girl would've scolded them—or at least acted annoyed. She didn't even blink."

"Exactly," Kudo said, tapping his pencil against his chin. "No fluster, no irritation. Just… that smile."

Miyano's frown deepened, her tone cool and deliberate. "She's nice. Too nice. She's acting. That girl's hiding something."

Kudo smirked, leaning forward. "You've been side-eyeing her for a while, huh?, I was too"

"I know a fake smile when I see one," Miyano replied, her voice edged with quiet certainty. "She's good, but nobody's that flawless all the time."

Kudo nodded, tucking the thought away. "Guess we'll keep watching."

---

Later That Evening

The study session unfolded in Miyano's dorm room, a cozy space with a low table covered in textbooks and snacks. She'd insisted on hosting tonight, pushing for a tighter Class C bond—especially with Horikita Suzune, whom she'd practically dragged into the group.

"Come on, Horikita," Miyano had said earlier, her tone firm but not unkind. "We're a class now. You can't just sit in your corner and glare at everyone forever."

Horikita had relented with a sigh, now seated stiffly beside Sato Maya and Karuizawa Kei, her sharp eyes scanning a math problem while Miyano guided the group with her usual precision. Kushida flitted around, all smiles, handing out pens and offering cheerful encouragement.

"Great job, everyone!" Kushida beamed. "We're totally going to ace midterms!"

Horikita muttered under her breath, "If you spent less time chirping and more time studying, maybe."

Miyano caught the jab but stayed focused, explaining a formula—until Sato leaned forward, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "Hey, Miyano-san, you and Kudo-kun are pretty close, huh? Did you guys know each other before coming here?"

Karuizawa perked up, smirking. "Yeah, you're always together. Are you, like, an item or something?"

Miyano paused mid-sentence, her pen hovering over the page. She shot them a flat look, her voice dry but steady. "We knew each other before, yeah. Old acquaintances. But no, we're not 'an item.' Don't get any weird ideas."

Sato giggled, undeterred. "Old acquaintances, huh? That's still kinda mysterious!"

"There's nothing mysterious about it," Miyano said, her tone clipped. "He's just less irritating than most people here."

Karuizawa snorted, nudging Sato. "High praise from her. Kudo's got some kinda magic, I guess."

Horikita glanced up, unimpressed. "Can we focus? I didn't come here for gossip."

Miyano smirked faintly, grateful for the redirect, and tapped the textbook. "Back to work."

The session rolled on, wrapping up with tired yawns and scattered notes. Kushida stretched with a little laugh. "Thanks for hosting, Miyano-san! I'll see you all tomorrow!" She waved and slipped out, leaving her phone behind on the table—unnoticed in the shuffle.

Miyano spotted it as the others filed out, her instincts prickling. What a hassle , she thought. She waited until Sato, Karuizawa, and Horikita were gone, then grabbed her own phone and Kushida's, slipping out after her.

The dorm hallway was quiet, the dim lights casting long shadows. Miyano trailed Kushida at a distance, her steps silent as she saw the girl duck into a secluded stairwell. Pausing at the corner, Miyano peeked around—Kushida stood alone, her back to the hall, shoulders tight.

Then, in a voice Miyano barely recognized, Kushida snapped, "That stuck-up Horikita—always acting like she's above us all. Thinks she's so smart, bossing everyone around. I hate her guts. And Miyano—always lurking, watching me like some creepy little shadow. Ugh, I'd love to shove them both off a cliff!"

Miyano's eyes narrowed, her suspicion hardening into certainty. There it is. She slid her hand into her pocket, pulling up her phone's voice recorder and hitting start, keeping it hidden as Kushida's rant spilled out.

"If I could just ditch them—Horikita, Miyano, all these idiots dragging us down—I'd be free. No more playing nice for this pathetic class!"

The words echoed faintly, sharp and bitter. Miyano stood still, her face a mask of calm, letting the recorder catch every venomous syllable. She didn't move—not yet. Confronting Kushida now would waste this goldmine, and Miyano played smarter than that.

Kushida huffed one last time, then straightened, brushing her hair back as her sweet mask snapped back into place. She turned and walked off, oblivious to her audience.

Miyano stopped the recording, pocketing her phone as she leaned against the wall, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. Got you, she thought. In a school like this, evidence was power—and she'd just hit the jackpot.

---

Later That Night

Kudo sprawled on his dorm bed, scrolling through a mystery novel on his phone, when a notification pinged. It was a voice file from Miyano, titled simply: "Listen to this." He raised an eyebrow, tapped play, and nearly fell off the bed as Kushida's venomous tirade blasted through his earbuds.

"—hate her guts. And Miyano—always lurking, watching me like some creepy little shadow—"

Kudo's jaw dropped, his eyes bugging out as a grin spread across his face. "No way!" he yelped, flailing to pause it before replaying it, just to be sure. When Miyano's follow-up text popped up—"Told you she's fake"—he burst out laughing, clutching his stomach.

"Shiho, you sneaky genius!" he typed back, still chuckling. "This is better than Mouri-oji-san faceplanting a crime scene! How'd you even—never mind, I'm coming over. We're dissecting this now!"

He scrambled for his jacket, still snickering, already picturing Kushida's angelic smile crumbling when they dropped this bomb on her.