Spark Of Trouble

The midday sun streamed through the windows of Class C's classroom, casting sharp lines across the desks where students lounged in their usual post-lunch haze. The air buzzed with idle chatter—Karuizawa giggling with her clique, Ike and Yamauchi debating some interesting topics—until the door slammed open with enough force to rattle the frame. Sudou Ken stormed in, his face a mask of fury, his knuckles clenched white around the strap of his gym bag.

"Those Class D punks think they can screw with me and walk away?" he snarled, dropping his bag onto his desk with a thud that silenced the room. "I'll smash their faces next time!"

Kudo Shinichi, perched near the window with his legs crossed, looked up from the Sudoku puzzle he'd been idly solving on his phone. His sharp blue eyes narrowed, taking in Sudou's flushed cheeks and the faint bruise blooming along his jaw. Trouble, he thought, pocketing the device as he leaned forward. Across the room, Miyano Shiho glanced up from her science journal, her brow creasing faintly before she returned to her reading, clearly uninterested.

Horikita Suzune stood from her seat, her voice cutting through the stunned silence like a blade. "Sudou-kun, calm down and explain. What happened?"

Sudou kicked his chair back, crossing his arms with a scowl. "After basketball practice, three Class D losers—Ishizaki, Komiya, and Kondou—cornered me near the courts. Started mouthing off about how I don't deserve a spot on the team 'cause I'm from 'worthless thug.' I told 'em to shove it, and they jumped me. I fought back, but now they're crying to the teachers like I started it!"

Kudo's mind clicked into gear, already dissecting the story. Three against one, Class D instigating, Sudou's temper flaring—it had all the makings of a setup. He shot a glance at Miyano. "Haibara, sounds like a case. You in?"

She didn't lift her eyes from her journal, her voice flat. "Not today, Kudo-kun. I've got a headache, and Sudou's drama isn't worth my energy. You're on your own."

Kudo smirked faintly, unfazed. "Suit yourself. I'll do it myself f I have to."

Horikita stepped closer, her gaze flickering between Sudou and Kudo. "If they've gone to the faculty, this could cost us points—or worse. We're not losing our rank over your temper, Sudou-kun. Kudo-kun, you're investigating this, right?"

"Already on it," Kudo replied, standing and brushing off his uniform jacket. "A fight like that doesn't just happen. I'll figure out what happened."

"Good," Horikita said, then turned to Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, who sat at the back, staring out the window with his usual blank expression. "Ayanokoji-kun, you're coming too. I'm not leaving this to Kudo-kun alone, and you're too passive to refuse."

Ayanokoji blinked slowly, his voice monotone. "Do I have a choice?"

"No," Horikita snapped. "Let's move."

Kudo chuckled under his breath as Ayanokoji rose with a faint sigh, falling into step behind them. The trio slipped out of the classroom just as the murmurs swelled again, Sudou's grumbling fading into the background.

–

The hallway was eerily quiet, the polished floors reflecting the overhead lights as Kudo pressed his ear to the faculty room door. Inside, Sudou's voice boomed, muffled but unmistakable.

"They attacked me first! I was just defending myself!" he shouted.

Chabashira-sensei's reply was cool, almost bored. "That's not what Class D claims. They say you threw the first punch, unprovoked. You've got until Tuesday to prove otherwise, or you're suspended. End of story."

Kudo pulled back, his mind racing as he relayed the snippet to Horikita and Ayanokoji. "Suspension by Tuesday unless we clear him. Class D's pushing hard—probably banking on dragging us down."

Horikita's fists clenched, her voice low. "We just made it to Class C. A suspension now could drop us back to D—or worse, cost us more points than we can afford."

Ayanokoji tilted his head, his tone calm. "So we need evidence. Witnesses, or something concrete to flip their story."

Kudo nodded, tapping his chin. "Sudoku isn't the type to lie about this—he's too straightforward, even if he's a hothead. Three guys from Class D jumping him fits their style, too. They've got numbers and a grudge. But we need proof they started it."

Horikita crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. "Then we analyze it properly. Where'd it happen?"

"Near the basketball courts," Kudo said. "Sudou mentioned after practice, so it's a good bet they ambushed him on his way out. We should check the scene."

Ayanokoji spoke up, his voice even. "Three against one's a tough fight, even for Sudou. He's strong, but not invincible. If he's not hurt badly and they are, that's a point in his favor."

Kudo's eyes gleamed with realization. "Good catch. Three guys baiting him into swinging first makes sense—classic provocation. If Sudou's barely scratched and they're banged up, it's hard to argue he ambushed them. No one walks out of a 3v1 that clean unless they're reacting, not attacking."

Horikita frowned, processing the logic. "It's a start, but it's not enough. The school won't care about speculation—they'll want hard evidence. We need a witness or something tangible."

"Agreed," Kudo said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's split up. Horikita, you check the courts for any physical clues—scuff marks, dropped stuff, anything. Ayanokoji and I will scout the area for anyone who might've seen it. Someone had to be around."

Horikita nodded curtly. "Fine. Meet back here in an hour."

As she strode off, Kudo turned to Ayanokoji with a grin. "Ready to play detective?"

Ayanokoji shrugged, his expression unchanging. "I'm just here because she made me."

"Fair enough," Kudo chuckled. "Stick with me—you might learn something."

–

The courts sat quiet under the fading afternoon light, the air still carrying the faint echo of bouncing balls from earlier practice. Kudo and Ayanokoji walked the perimeter, Kudo's eyes scanning every inch of the ground. A scuff mark here, a smudge of dirt there—nothing definitive, but enough to suggest a scuffle.

"Three guys cornering him," Kudo mused aloud, crouching near a patch of disturbed gravel. "Sudou's got the height and muscle, but numbers matter. If they pushed him into swinging, they could claim self-defense and pin it on him."

Ayanokoji glanced around, his voice quiet. "No cameras here. They picked a blind spot."

Kudo stood, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. "Too convenient. Ishizaki, Komiya, and Kondou aren't exactly masterminds—they're loudmouths with fists, not brains. Picking a spot this clean, no surveillance? That's not their style. Someone smarter orchestrated this."

Ayanokoji's gaze sharpened slightly, though his tone remained even. "You think there's a mastermind behind them?"

"Yeah," Kudo said, tapping his temple. "Class D's got someone pulling strings. Those three are too incompetent to plan something this precise on their own—baiting Sudou in a dead zone, then running to the faculty with a rehearsed story? That's calculated. Someone's using them to hit us where it hurts."

Ayanokoji nodded faintly, his eyes drifting to the empty path ahead. "Makes sense. They're just pawns."

"Exactly," Kudo said, his grin returning. "Which means we're not just looking for proof—we're looking for whoever's hiding behind them. But first, we need eyes on the fight. Someone had to see it."

They moved toward the path leading to the school store, a common route for students post-practice. Kudo's gaze swept the area, landing on a lone figure near a bench—Sakura Airi, her pink hair catching the light as she fumbled with her camera, her hands trembling slightly.

"Bingo," Kudo murmured, nudging Ayanokoji. "She's nervous. Let's see why."

They approached slowly, Kudo keeping his tone light. "Hey, Sakura. Out taking photos?"

Sakura jolted, nearly dropping her camera as her wide eyes darted up. "K-Kudo-kun? Ayanokoji-kun? Um, y-yeah, just… testing the lens."

Kudo studied her—her shaky grip, the way her gaze flicked away. She wasn't just shy; she was hiding something. "Were you here yesterday? After practice?"

Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the camera. "I-I don't… I mean, I wasn't…"

Ayanokoji spoke up, his voice soft but direct. "Sudou's in trouble. If you saw anything, it'd help."

Sakura's shoulders slumped, her resolve crumbling under the weight of their stares. "I… I saw it," she whispered. "The fight. I was taking pictures by the courts, and… those Class D boys started it. They pushed Sudou first."

Kudo's lips curved into a satisfied smirk. "Perfect. Did you catch it on camera?"

She nodded, clutching the camera closer. "Y-Yes, but… I don't want anyone to know it was me. Please."

"Don't worry," Kudo said, raising a hand. "Your name stays out of it. Can we see?"

Sakura hesitated, then held out the camera with trembling hands—only for her nerves to betray her. It slipped from her grasp, hitting the pavement with a sickening crack. The lens shattered, and the screen flickered out.

"Oh no!" Sakura gasped, dropping to her knees. "I-I didn't mean to…"

Kudo winced, crouching beside her. "Ouch. That's… not good."

Ayanokoji picked up the broken camera, inspecting it calmly. "It's malfunctioning . We'll need to have it repaired."

Kudo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, and fast. Sakura, don't panic—we'll handle it. Know anywhere nearby that can repair this?"

Sakura bit her lip, her voice barely audible. "There's… the tech shop by the dorms. The clerk's a little weird, but he's good with cameras."

"Weird how?" Kudo asked, eyebrow raised.

"He… stares a lot," she mumbled, shrinking into herself.

Kudo exchanged a glance with Ayanokoji, who gave a faint nod. "Guess we're paying him a visit," Kudo said, standing. "Sakura, you can head back. We've got this."

She nodded quickly, scurrying off as Kudo pocketed the broken camera. "Let's move."