Class 2-B was immersed in the usual afternoon lull. Ms. Kobayashi's voice droned through a history lecture, her words washing over students whose attention had long since drifted elsewhere.
Kaito Sato sat at the front, his posture perfect, his eyes fixed on the board. Pen moving. Notes forming. The picture of focused diligence.
Behind him, two desks hosted sleeping figures. Hikari Tanaka, as always, had her head pillowed on her arms, facing the window. And beside her, in a new addition to the classroom landscape, Nakamura Yuki was similarly unconscious, her bright energy temporarily dimmed by the soporific effect of post-lunch history.
Other students stared out windows, doodled in margins, or exchanged quiet notes. Normal. Peaceful. Ordinary.
Except for Riko.
On the surface, she was impeccable. Back straight. Eyes forward. Pen in hand. The perfect student, taking perfect notes.
Inside, her mind was a warzone.
Yesterday. The library. I went to find them but I was too late.
She had arrived at the library just as the conversation was ending. Through the gap in the door, she had seen Kaito and Yuki standing near the exit, preparing to leave. She had hidden behind the corner, her heart pounding for reasons she couldn't name.
And then she heard it.
One sentence. Clear. Unmistakable.
"Maybe I might fall for someone after all."
Kaito's voice. Quiet. Warm. Something she had never heard before.
Then they had walked out, and Riko had remained frozen against the wall, the words echoing in her skull.
Riko's pen paused on the page. Just for a second. Then she forced it to move again.
Who?
The question burned.
When did he decide that? Is it someone in this class? Someone I know?
Her mind cycled through possibilities. Every girl in Class 2-B. Every interaction she had witnessed. Every glance, every word, every small gesture she had catalogued since arriving at Sakuragaoka.
Is it Yuki? They have history. Childhood friends. She knows his past. That kind of connection...
But no. The way he said it—"might fall"—sounded like someone at the beginning of something. Not someone reconnecting with an old flame. Someone on the edge of a discovery.
Then who?
The question circled back, relentless.
And then, quietly, treacherously, another thought slipped through her defenses.
Can that girl be... me?
Heat exploded across her face.
Riko's cheeks flushed crimson. Her ears burned. Her head felt suddenly, impossibly hot. She stared at her notebook, but the words blurred into meaningless shapes.
Why would I think that? That's illogical. There's no data to support—
But the heat wouldn't stop. It spread from her face to her neck, her chest, her very core. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a caged animal.
Focus. Focus. This is ridiculous. I am Riko Aoyama. I don't—
"Riko-san?"
Ms. Kobayashi's voice cut through the chaos. Riko looked up, her expression barely controlled.
The teacher was staring at her with concern. "Your face is very red. Are you feeling unwell?"
Riko opened her mouth to deny it—to deliver the perfect, polished response that would dismiss the concern and let her return to her silent suffering.
But no words came.
Ms. Kobayashi approached, pressing a cool hand to Riko's forehead. "You're burning up. You might have a fever." She turned to the class. "Tanaka-san, please accompany Aoyama-san to the infirmary."
Hikari lifted her head slowly, blinking away sleep. Her eyes found Riko's flushed face, and something shifted in her expression—surprise, then concern, then a quiet understanding that Riko couldn't interpret.
Riko stood on unsteady legs. The room tilted slightly. Or maybe that was just her.
As she walked toward the door, Hikari falling into step beside her, she caught a glimpse of Kaito. He hadn't turned around. His attention was still on the board, oblivious to the chaos he had accidentally unleashed.
The unseen fever wasn't physical. But it burned just the same.
(End of Chapter 56)