The academy didn't feel safe anymore.
Not because it was damaged—most of the walls had already been repaired—but because everyone was suddenly looking at each other differently.
Kaito felt it the moment he stepped inside.
Whispers cut off mid-sentence. Conversations dulled. Eyes followed him longer than they used to.
"They're already inside our heads," Ryo muttered.
Kaito nodded. "That's why we don't let them stay there."
The Circle moved through the halls together, spreading out just enough to search without losing sight of one another. Aria checked classrooms. Mira scanned the upper levels. Liona and Ryo moved toward the storage wings and old stairwells—places no one paid attention to unless something went wrong.
Dex padded along beside Kaito, nose low to the ground, ears alert.
"We're not looking for a fight," Aria said quietly over their communicators. "We're looking for proof."
Kaito stopped near the scorched section of the east wing—the place villagers had claimed he caused the damage.
He crouched slowly, ignoring the dull ache in his ribs, and studied the floor.
"There should be residue," he said. "If it was me… or someone like me."
Mira's voice crackled back. "And if there isn't?"
Kaito's jaw tightened. "Then the fires were staged."
Dex sniffed sharply and barked once, pawing at a section of blackened stone.
Kaito leaned closer.
Nothing.
No lingering heat signature. No distortion in the material. No trace of the energy everyone assumed belonged to him.
"This wasn't natural," Kaito said quietly. "Not even close."
Ryo swore under his breath. "So the rumor's built on nothing."
"No," Aria replied grimly. "It's built on timing."
They regrouped in the central hall.
Mira spread several sheets of paper across a table—incident reports, guard logs, witness statements. "There's no note. No claim of responsibility. No explanation for the gunfire or fires."
"That's the point," Kaito said.
Everyone looked at him.
"If the attackers wanted credit, they'd leave something behind," he continued. "A symbol. A threat. Anything."
"But they didn't," Liona said slowly. "They just… let people assume."
Kaito nodded. "And people assume what scares them the most."
Silence settled over the group.
"So we tell the village," Aria said. "We explain this."
"Yes," Kaito replied. "Calmly. Clearly. No accusations."
Ryo frowned. "You really think that'll work?"
"I think doubt spreads faster than truth," Kaito said. "So we have to be louder—but not violent."
Dex pressed against his leg, grounding him.
Mira exhaled. "And the traitor?"
Kaito's eyes lifted. "If someone inside the academy helped start this… they didn't leave a mark because they didn't need to."
Aria stiffened. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Kaito said quietly, "they're relying on trust. And confusion. And the fact that no one wants to believe one of their own would do this."
The group exchanged uneasy looks.
Far above them, unseen, a hidden figure paused mid-step in a maintenance corridor.
Still listening.
Still learning.
Kaito straightened, shoulders aching but steady. "We clear our name with truth," he said. "And we flush them out by removing the fog."
Outside, the village buzzed with half-truths and borrowed fear.
Inside the academy, the hunt had already begun.