The bell rang.
Rough. Sharp. Violent—like it was angry at the walls for still standing.
The classroom exploded into motion.
Chairs screeched back. Desks rattled. Backpacks were slung over shoulders with reckless urgency. No one cared about the assignment anymore. No one even pretended to.
The vigilante had swallowed the school whole.
"Did you see the video?""They blurred the faces—like that helps.""My cousin says it's fake. AI or something.""Fake doesn't leave bodies like that.""They deserved it.""No one deserves that."
Voices overlapped, collided, dissolved into whispers as students spilled into the hallways. Screens glowed everywhere—news clips paused mid-frame, headlines screaming in bold red letters.
Yuri kept his head down.
Hands in his pockets. Shoulders slightly hunched. Every step measured.
Still, he felt it.
The weight.
It crawled across his skin like static, like a thousand invisible fingers pressing into him all at once. He didn't need to look up to know people were staring. He could hear it—the way conversations bent when he passed, the way laughter softened, the way silence snapped into place a second too late.
Feels like I'm naked, he thought.Like the walls can see through me.
Someone laughed behind him.
Too loud.
Someone else stopped talking altogether.
His jaw tightened. He forced himself to keep walking.
Then—
"Psst!"
The sound cut clean through the noise.
Yuri stopped.
He already knew.
He felt it before he saw her—the shift in air, the warmth that didn't belong in a hallway this cold. He turned slowly, careful not to look startled.
Sarah stood half-hidden in a classroom doorway.
Her hands were clenched at her sides. Her eyes—sharp, focused—betrayed a nervous energy she tried very hard to hide. She looked like someone about to step onto thin ice and pretend she wasn't afraid of the crack.
Their eyes met.
For half a second, neither moved.
Yuri exhaled.
"…You're gonna get us in trouble," he muttered, stepping toward her.
She didn't smile. That worried him more than if she had.
He slipped into the classroom. Sarah closed the door behind him.
The noise from the hallway dulled instantly, replaced by a heavy, almost intimate silence.
The room wasn't empty.
Eithen leaned against a desk near the center, arms crossed, posture loose—too loose. The kind of relaxed confidence that came from never having to look over your shoulder.
"Yo," Eithen said. "You actually came."
Gemma stood by the window, fingers resting lightly on the sill. Sunlight caught in the purple streaks of her hair as she turned. Her smile was gentle, but her eyes searched Yuri's face like she was trying to read something he hadn't said yet.
"Hey, Yuri," she said softly.
Then there was the fourth.
A boy in a hood, headphones resting around his neck now, not on his ears. He leaned against the back wall, arms folded, one foot braced behind him. Still. Quiet.
Watching.
Not staring—but observing.
Yuri didn't like him.
The boy met his gaze and gave a small nod. "Duke."
No smile. No inflection.
Just a name.
"…Yuri," he replied, after a beat.
Sarah stepped forward, clasping her hands together like she was about to lead a meeting instead of cornering a classmate.
"Okay," she said. "Now that everyone's here… let's talk."
Yuri raised an eyebrow. "Talk about what?"
Eithen pushed off the desk. "C'mon. Don't act clueless."
Yuri's eyes flicked between them. "I'm not acting."
Duke spoke next. Low. Calm. The kind of voice that didn't waste words.
"The Vigilante."
The word landed differently in a closed room.
Heavier. Colder.
Yuri shrugged, forcing his shoulders to stay loose. "Yeah. He's everywhere. Hard not to hear about him."
Gemma's brows knitted together. "You say that like it doesn't bother you."
He paused.
"…Should it?"
"It should," Eithen said. "People are losing their minds."
"And others are losing sleep," Gemma added. "They're scared."
Yuri looked away. His eyes caught on the window—on the world outside, bright and painfully normal.
"People want him dead," Gemma continued quietly.
That did it.
Yuri's gaze snapped back to her. "What?"
Eithen nodded. "Big time."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before turning it toward Yuri. A headline filled the display.
INTERNATIONAL TASK FORCE PLACES BOUNTY ON VIGILANTE
Below it, in smaller text:
REWARD: $5,000,000,000
Dead or alive.
Yuri's blood ran cold.
Already?
His fingers twitched, itching to shove the phone away, to shatter the screen, to erase the words.
Sarah stepped closer, voice steady but urgent. "There are over a hundred groups hunting him. Mercenaries. Private militias. Government-backed teams."
"And about twenty," Eithen added, "trying to protect him."
Yuri's chest tightened.
"No."
The word came out sharper than he meant.
The room stilled.
"No?" Eithen echoed.
"This isn't a game," Yuri said, his voice low now. Controlled. "Whoever he is, he knows what he's doing. Getting involved will just get people killed."
Gemma took a step toward him. "Or save lives."
"You don't know that."
"And you do?" she asked gently.
Yuri clenched his jaw.
Duke tilted his head slightly, studying him. "You sound… invested."
Yuri's eyes flicked to him. "I sound realistic."
Duke hummed, unimpressed. "Funny. Most people who talk like that are hiding something."
The silence stretched.
Sarah opened her mouth—then closed it.
Duke broke the tension, voice almost thoughtful.
"I wonder what he thinks of all this," he said. "The bounty. The fear. The worship."
Yuri's hands curled into fists at his sides.
He turned away.
"I'm done," he muttered. "Don't drag me into this."
He reached for the door.
Behind him, no one followed.
No one stopped him.
That somehow made it worse.
He stepped back into the hallway, swallowed by noise and motion once more—but the whispers felt louder now.
Closer.
He didn't trust himself to speak