The lunch bell had barely finished its chime before Kaito Sato was on his feet, his insulated lunch bag already in hand. His movement was efficient, a programmed exit from the social field of the classroom.
Three boys from the soccer team, emboldened by their shared athletic camaraderie, intercepted him near the door. "Hey, Sato-senpai! We're heading to the courtyard to eat. Daichi's here too. Wanna join us? It'd be cool to have you!"
They smiled, their invitation genuine and open.
Kaito stopped. He didn't look at them, his gaze fixed on the hallway beyond. His voice, when it came, was a flat sheet of polished ice. "No. Thank you."
The rejection was absolute, devoid of even a shred of warmth to soften its edge. He didn't wait for a response, simply sidestepped them and disappeared into the stream of students in the hall.
The boys were left standing, their smiles frozen then fading into awkward shrugs. "Wow. Okay then."
As Kaito's figure vanished, a hushed conversation sparked among the nearby students who had witnessed the exchange.
"See? Sato-senpai really doesn't like anyone disturbing his lunch," a girl whispered to her friend.
"I heard a rumor," another student murmured, leaning in, "that last year, even Hoshino Shizuka-senpai tried to talk to him during lunch about some council thing. He was so cold she ended up apologizing to him for disturbing him. Did it right in front of a whole class, and he just called it 'nonsense' and walked away."
"That's brutal," the first girl breathed. "Everyone admires him, but… it's like there's a force field. I could never even dare to speak to him directly."
Riko, gathering her own elegant lunchbox, overheard every word. The whispers slithered into her mind, conflicting violently with the image seared from yesterday.
Brutal. A force field. Made the Council President apologize.
But yesterday, in the library, she had seen a different person. Not warm, no. But patient. Analytical, yes, but with a focus that felt dedicated, not dismissive. He had translated math into the language of shapes for Hikari. His aura in that quiet room hadn't been a crushing pressure; it had been a steady, guiding presence. A different kind of density.
Now, watching the space where he had just been, she felt the truth of the whispers. The air around his vacant desk still felt charged with that icy, repelling energy. The Kaito of the classroom was a sovereign guarding his borders with absolute zero hospitality.
Which one is the real one? The question unsettled her. People were consistent. Her own persona was a perfected, consistent construct. But Kaito Sato seemed to operate with two distinct modes: the untouchable Ice Prince of the school, and the… what? The logical tutor? The quiet ally?
The dichotomy was a flaw in her understanding, and Riko despised flaws in her data sets.
(End of Chapter 40)