Kaito's Perspective
Lunch on the roof was a ritual of quiet recalibration. The wind, the open sky, the isolation—it stripped away the accumulated social static of the morning. Today, that static had been louder than usual, a buzzing chorus of whispers following his simple greeting to Hikari. It was irritating, but meaningless. The memory of her slight, acknowledging nod was a far more potent fact.
He had just taken the first bite of his meticulously prepared lunch when the rooftop door creaked open. It was an unusual sound for this hour. He looked up to see Hoshino Shizuka stepping onto the concrete, her posture perfect, her expression a mask of polite urgency.
"Sato-senpai," she said, her voice carrying just enough over the wind. "I'm sorry to disturb you. There's an urgent matter that requires your attention in the Council Room. It won't take long."
Urgent. In Shizuka's lexicon, that usually meant a discrepancy in a budget report or a scheduling conflict for an upcoming event. Annoyance flickered within him—this was his time—but his sense of duty, the ingrained habit of responsibility, won out. He gave a single, curt nod, carefully closed his lunchbox, and stood.
He followed her in silence, aware of the curious glances they attracted walking together. The Princess and the Solitary King. A pairing the school understood on an academic, leadership level. It was a narrative he had never bothered to correct.
The Council Room was empty. Sunlight streamed in, highlighting the dust motes in the air. Shizuka didn't take her seat at the table. Instead, she turned to face him, the door clicking shut behind them. Her 'urgent business' posture melted away, replaced by something more tense, more personal.
"Sato-senpai," she began, her honeyed voice lacking its usual smoothness. "I need to speak with you. About your… conduct."
Kaito remained still, waiting. He said nothing.
Emboldened by his silence, she continued, her words coming out in a rehearsed rush. "You are… you are too helpful. Too polite. To everyone. You have this… this aura of impeccable kindness that people misunderstand. You should be more careful. You should stop trusting everyone so easily."
A faint line appeared between Kaito's brows. This was not about council business. This was an intrusion. "I don't trust anyone," he stated, his voice flat and factual. "What are you trying to say? Be clear."
The directness seemed to startle her. She faltered for a second, her composure cracking at the edges. "You are as cold as always," she said, a trace of bitterness seeping through. "But others don't see that. They see the help, the quiet support. Tanaka Hikari, for instance. An inferior student from another class, is somehow convinced she's your friend. Because of your… your general decency. Rumors are spreading because of it. It's causing confusion. For her sake and for the school's atmosphere, I want you to remove that confusion. Make things clear to her. You don't have to be harsh, just… definitive."
For Kaito, the world narrowed to a single, cold point of focus. The morning's warmth, the solidity of his new reality, was being dissected and dismissed in this sunlit room by someone who understood nothing.
A rare, volcanic fury ignited in his chest. It was a clean, sharp anger—not a shout, but a glacial pressure. He kept his expression impassive, his voice low, but each word was deliberately carved and dropped into the space between them like a stone.
"I don't care about what rumors say."
He took a single step forward, not threatening, but definitive. His eyes, usually so detached, held a intensity that made Shizuka subtly recoil.
"And she is not 'inferior.' She is a student here, like me. And she is a friend of mine."
He let the declaration hang, absolute and unassailable. "Do not budge in our business."
The anger was there, vibrating in the finality of the statement, in the clear, cold line he had just drawn. This was not the Solitary King being vaguely unapproachable. This was Kaito Sato issuing a direct, personal warning.
Hoshino Shizuka's face went pale. All the practiced words, the logical arguments, the vice-presidential authority, crumbled to dust against the sheer, unyielding certainty of his defense. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. A tumultuous storm of emotions—rejection, humiliation, raw hurt—flashed in her eyes. She looked down, her entire body tensing as she fought to control the tremor that wanted to wrack her frame.
Kaito watched the struggle for a single, silent moment. The 'urgent business' was concluded. There was nothing more to say.
"If your business is over," he said, his voice returning to its normal, dispassionate tone, "I am going."
He didn't wait for permission. He turned, walked to the door, and opened it. He did not look back. He left her there in the sunlit silence, a princess dethroned not by a rival, but by the unwavering truth of a loyalty she had never been offered.
His footsteps echoed calmly down the empty hallway. His mind was already elsewhere. His lunch was waiting, and more importantly, a misunderstanding now needed to be corrected. He had drawn a line for Shizuka. Now, he needed to make sure Hikari never had cause to doubt which side of it she stood on.
(End of Chapter 17)