The week settled into the new rhythm of Class 2-B. The invisible triangle at the front of the room—Kaito's icy focus, Riko's polished diligence, and Hikari's silent, slumped rebellion—became a fixed feature, a social landmark the rest of the class navigated around.
It was during homeroom on Thursday that the equilibrium was disrupted.
Ms. Kobayashi clapped her hands gently after attendance. "Before first period, I have a request. Sato-kun, Aoyama-san, could you please see me in the staff room after school today? It pertains to a class matter."
A soft, curious murmur rippled through the room. Kaito merely gave a slight, acknowledging nod, his expression unchanged. Riko turned in her seat, offering the teacher a perfect, compliant smile. "Of course, sensei."
Hikari, from her seat behind Kaito, didn't stir, but her eyes, fixed on the window, narrowed just a fraction.
The day proceeded. When the final bell rang, Kaito and Riko made their way to the staff room, their steps unhurried and silent beside each other, two parallel lines with no intent to converge.
Ms. Kobayashi greeted them with a warm but tired smile. "Thank you for coming. Please, sit." She gestured to two chairs. Once they were seated, she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a more confidential tone.
"This is a somewhat delicate matter," she began, folding her hands. "It concerns Tanaka-san."
Kaito's posture remained still, but his focus sharpened imperceptibly. Riko's eyebrows lifted with polite interest.
"You may not know this," Ms. Kobayashi continued, "but I was a music lover in my youth. I even considered it as a path. I… understand what it means to have a talent that doesn't fit neatly into academic boxes." She sighed. "No other teacher has cared to look past Tanaka-san's record. But I saw the video from last year's Culture Festival. Her performance was… it was genuine art."
She looked between them, her gaze earnest. "There is an inter-class music showcase next month. Each class can submit a performer. I want Tanaka-san to represent 2-B with her violin."
Riko blinked, processing. This was about the rebellious ghost? A music showcase?
"However," Ms. Kobayashi's face grew stern, "the other teachers and the music department head would not agree. They cited her academic record and… general attitude. I argued. I pleaded. They finally conceded, but on one condition."
She looked directly at Kaito, then at Riko. "Tanaka-san must pass all her subject tests between now and the showcase. No failing grades. A consistent, passing performance. It's the only way they will allow her to participate, to 'demonstrate responsibility.'"
She paused, letting the weight of the condition sink in. "I know this is a significant ask. But I believe she can do it. She just needs… structure. Support. I cannot tutor her myself without it seeming like undue favoritism. But peer tutoring…" She looked at Kaito meaningfully. "Sato-kun, you helped her once before, during the festival preparations. I am aware of that. I am asking you to do so again." Her gaze shifted to Riko. "And Aoyama-san, your academic record is impeccable. Your presence would lend the endeavor credibility in the eyes of the skeptical staff. Would you both be willing to help Tanaka-san study? To give her this chance?"
The staff room fell silent, filled only with the distant sounds of club activities from the field.
Kaito stared at the surface of the teacher's desk, his mind working. Last year's library sessions, the silent exchange of notes, the unspoken understanding—it had been a discrete, temporary alliance. This was different. This was a formal, ongoing commitment. This was an intrusion into the carefully maintained distance that had re-formed this year.
But the memory of a violin's cry in a dusty hallway echoed. A sound of such raw, painful beauty that it had bypassed all his logic.
Riko's mind was calculating at high speed. This was an unexpected variable. Tutoring the class rebel? It was messy, beneath her. But it was also a direct, sanctioned entry point into the mystery of Hikari Tanaka. It was a chance to observe the dynamic between the two loners up close. And it would demonstrate her willingness to contribute to the class's success—a virtuous look for a new Council member.
Kaito spoke first, his voice as neutral as ever. "The condition is to pass all tests. The objective is clear. I can provide academic assistance."
It was neither a refusal nor an enthusiastic acceptance. It was a statement of capability applied to a problem.
Ms. Kobayashi's shoulders sagged in relief. She turned to Riko.
Riko smiled, the picture of gracious cooperation. "Of course, sensei. It's our duty to support our classmates. I would be happy to help ensure Tanaka-san meets the condition." Her words were flawless, but her eyes held a gleam of strategic interest.
"Thank you, both of you," Ms. Kobayashi said, her gratitude evident. "I will speak to Tanaka-san tomorrow. I'll arrange for you to use the library after school, starting next week. Please… be patient with her."
As they left the staff room and walked into the empty hallway, the after-school silence felt newly charged.
They stopped at the junction where their paths would diverge—Kaito toward the shoe lockers, Riko likely toward the Council room.
Riko turned to him, her polite smile still in place. "It seems we have a shared project, Sato-senpai."
Kaito met her gaze for a second, his own eyes giving nothing away. "The project is her academic performance. Our roles are to facilitate it efficiently." He gave a slight nod, not of camaraderie, but of acknowledgment toward a logistical partner. "Good day."
He walked away, his footsteps echoing in the hall.
Riko watched him go, her smile fading into a look of intense contemplation. The unseen condition had been set. And now, they were all bound by it. The quiet library was about to become the stage for a new, forced collaboration between the king, the princess, and the ghost who played the violin.
(End of Chapter 37)