The Center of the Academy

Three months had passed since Kaito Satou and Maria Teresa joined Sakura Academy. Their arrival, initially a shockwave of gossip and envy, had settled into a welcoming fixture in the fabric of the class, and indeed, the whole school. Ren found it remarkable how quickly they'd integrated, how effortlessly they'd become part of the everyday rhythm.

In that relatively short period, Kaito had managed to befriend most of the class, and a notable portion of the entire school. Perhaps it was a given, given his extreme athletic prowess, effortlessly excelling in every sport he tried, turning heads with his natural grace and power. He was also somewhat handsome, but above all, Kaito was an endless source of charisma. It was a quiet, genuine warmth that made people feel comfortable.

Even the delinquents, the self-proclaimed troublemakers, and the usually standoffish elements of the school found themselves drawn into Kaito's orbit. It was baffling to Ren to see the school's toughest individuals, who normally sneered at authority and avoided any form of polite interaction, quietly pay their respects to Kaito as he passed in the hallways. It was an almost irritating phenomenon to Ren, watching Kaito effortlessly bridge social divides that had seemed insurmountable.

Even for someone as reserved and inwardly focused as Ren, Kaito had managed to break through. They'd found common ground in quiet discussions about obscure history topics or the baffling complexity of certain math problems. Kaito, despite his casual demeanor, was surprisingly sharp.

Maria, on the other hand, remained a captivating enigma. She was universally admired for her stunning beauty and quiet elegance, but her interactions were few. She spoke little, smiled rarely—unless it was directed at Kaito—and maintained an aura of serene detachment that kept most at a polite distance. Yet, despite her reserved nature, she was a constant, almost shadow-like presence by Kaito's side. If Kaito was the sun, drawing everyone in, Maria was the moon, reflecting his light, mysterious and beautiful, yet always orbiting him. Their relationship, initially the subject of endless speculation, had settled into something quietly accepted, an inseparable duo at the heart of their class.

Their most perplexing relationship, however, was with Yumi Fujiwara. While Yumi-senpai remained as aloof and unapproachable as ever to the vast majority of the student body, she had a peculiar, almost unspoken understanding with Kaito and Maria. They didn't engage in lengthy conversations, but a glance, a subtle nod, a shared silence seemed to convey entire dialogues between them. It was clear to Ren that their bond with Yumi-senpai was on an entirely different level, hinting at connections far beyond the casual friendships Kaito had forged with everyone else.

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Time slipped by quickly within the bustling walls of Sakura Academy. Before Ren quite knew it, the campus atmosphere shifted from the studious hum to a vibrant, almost giddy mood as the annual Culture Festival began in full swing. Booths draped with colorful fabrics dotted the courtyard, music drifted from the auditorium, and students, normally confined to classrooms, moved with a newfound freedom and excitement.

Ren, doing his part for the Literature Club's exhibit, was just returning to their classroom after hauling a stack of dusty old scrolls from the storage room. His arms were aching, and his mind was already drifting towards the promise of cheap festival food. As he passed a secluded alcove near the main staircase, a familiar voice, hushed and low, caught his ear.

It was Kaito. He was speaking to Maria. Ren paused, instinctively shrinking back a little, not wanting to intrude. He couldn't make out much, but three words, distinct and chilling, cut through the background chatter of the festival: "Unusual," "people," "alert."

Then, Maria's voice, equally hushed but with an unnerving clarity, resonated through the space. "Someone is there."

A jolt of unease shot through Ren. He didn't know why, but a sudden, inexplicable fear seized him. His heart pounded. He fled, not wanting to be seen, not wanting to be caught listening. As he put distance between himself and the voices, a wave of self-reproach washed over him. Why was he scared? They were his classmates. He tried to dismiss the encounter, to tell himself it was nothing. He managed to push it from his mind and resume his activity.

And so, the Culture Festival continued without a hitch. The joyous laughter and vibrant activities filled the campus, and the day passed without incident. The same was true for the next day, and the next.

Until, suddenly, on a seemingly ordinary morning, the illusion shattered. As students milled about before morning class, the academy grounds were plunged into chaos. Numerous suspicious masked individuals, armed to the teeth, burst through the gates and other entrances, their movements coordinated and ruthless. The loud crackle of a megaphone ripped through the air, quickly followed by a chilling announcement: the school was under control. They had come for the children of the elite. Sakura Academy was being held hostage for ransom.