The cold wind on the platform swirled, picking up a discarded newspaper that flapped against the leg of a long bench.
This silent, oppressive standoff felt more suffocating to Koharu Miura than the malevolent stare from earlier.
Haruka Kondo stood slightly bent over, a few strands of her chestnut-red hair falling loose from her earlier movement, veiling her eyes that burned with possessive desire.
Koharu Miura’s palms were slick with cold sweat as she gripped her phone.
She could feel the icy touch of the phone case, like a piece of ice that could freeze her hand numb.
Though the screen was off, the blue chat box that had flashed a moment ago, along with the account avatar of Kanzaki Sou at the top, was surely etched into Haruka Kondo’s retinas.
“Calm down… Koharu Miura, you need to calm down.”
The girl silently repeated in her mind.
If she acted too guilty now, Haruka Kondo, with her personality, would immediately conclude that she was conspiring with Kanzaki Sou about something secret.
But whether it was about Kiyono Arisa’s secret or those dangerous black-clad individuals, once Haruka got involved—a character who wouldn’t normally intersect with Kiyono Arisa in the main storyline—she’d instantly become a target, just like her and Mayumi.
Koharu Miura recalled Mayumi’s face, twisted with fear.
Absolutely… she absolutely couldn’t let Haruka Kondo fall into this quagmire.
If she got hurt too, that monster of responsibility, Kanzaki Sou, would throw himself in without hesitation.
By then, he’d be facing Kiyono Arisa, the one at the heart of the event.
Just then, “Ding—”
The crisp LIME notification was jarringly loud on the dead-silent platform, like the striking of a judgment gavel.
It was probably a message from Kanzaki Sou.
Koharu’s fingertips trembled violently.
Almost instinctively, she flipped the phone face-down on her knee, the motion so quick it was almost comical, tinged with a frantic attempt to hide something.
Click.
Haruka Kondo’s eyes narrowed slightly, their temperature dropping to freezing in an instant.
“Since it came through, why not open it and see? Or… is there something in there I shouldn’t see?”
She took another half-step forward, her pressure making Koharu Miura feel like a butterfly trapped in a spider web.
“No, it’s not like that…”
Koharu’s voice was weak and feeble. She tried to keep her expression from looking guilty.
“It’s just… Kanzaki-kun is talking about some Student Council private matters. He told me before that it involves other students’ privacy, so I can’t just show it to anyone…”
“Ha, ridiculous. Am I just ‘anyone’?”
Haruka Kondo let out a cold laugh. “Miura, have you forgotten who offered to help you at KTV? Now you’re holding your phone, hiding out in a messy place like Sakuragicho, and chatting with Cang-kun about things I shouldn’t see?”
Haruka Kondo reached out, her fingertips nearly brushing Koharu’s hand.
“Give it here. Let me see what he’s saying.”
“If there’s trouble, I’ll help you handle it. You don’t need to beg him like a frightened rabbit here.”
“Kondo-san, please stop…”
Koharu clutched the phone tightly, her nails turning pale from the strain.
She was struggling.
If Kanzaki Sou’s message mentioned the Livehouse, Arisa’s whereabouts, or the real target of the anonymous report letter… once Haruka Kondo saw that, she’d immediately realize that Kanzaki Sou and Koharu Miura had been hiding things from her.
With Haruka Kondo’s unyielding pride, she’d see it as the ultimate betrayal.
And then what?
She’d charge into that darkness alone to prove herself.
Finally, she’d drag Kanzaki Sou down into the abyss with her.
No, absolutely not.
Koharu’s breathing grew rapid.
In that instant, countless excuses flashed through her mind, but none seemed strong enough to stop Haruka Kondo’s almost obsessive questioning.
“Got it.”
Koharu suddenly looked up, her eyes carrying a mix of pleading and a touch of staged grievance.
“Kondo-san… You were watching me from behind for a while just now, so you should know we weren’t talking about anything unsettling, right?”
She deliberately slowed her speech, her tone soothing.
“Weren’t you following me the whole time?”
But, contrary to Koharu’s expectations.
Upon hearing this, Haruka Kondo, who had been furious and on the verge of grabbing the phone, froze.
Her expression didn’t show anger at being caught out; instead, a flicker of confusion passed through her eyes.
“…What?”
Haruka Kondo frowned slightly, looking back at Koharu with a bewildered expression.
“Huh? I was watching you for a long time?”
“…Eh?”
Koharu Miura froze. The defensive stance she had so carefully built began to crack.
“What do you mean? While waiting for the train on the platform earlier, I kept feeling someone staring at me from behind. When I looked back, I didn’t see anyone, but the stare was always there. Then you suddenly tapped my shoulder…”
“Miura, what nonsense are you talking about?”
Haruka Kondo straightened up.
“I just came in through the ticket gate outside the platform. I saw your silhouette from here and thought it was strange, so I hurried over. When I reached you, you were staring at your phone like a statue. That’s when I tapped you.”
Haruka Kondo’s voice echoed across the crowded platform with a cold, hard truth.
“As for you saying I was watching you for a long time… I don’t have that kind of time. I just got here.”
Buzz—
Koharu Miura felt like a runaway drill had been shoved into her brain. It hit her like a thunderbolt, freezing the blood in her veins.
Just got here?
Haruka Kondo said she just entered the station?
Then that stare that had made her spine chill, her hair stand on end, and nearly made her jump—that sticky, malevolent gaze—
Who did it belong to?
If it wasn’t Haruka Kondo watching her, if it wasn’t a classmate joking around, then what was lurking in that empty platform with only a few passengers, among those people she had repeatedly checked and found normal?
Cold sweat trickled down her temples. Koharu felt the warmth she had regained with Haruka Kondo’s arrival draining away at an alarming rate.
It wasn’t Haruka Kondo.
Meaning… that stare was real.
Those guys… really followed her here?
Koharu’s throat was so dry she couldn’t speak.
She stared blankly at Haruka Kondo, trying to find traces of a lie in her face.
But someone with Haruka’s personality would never bother lying about such things.
“What kind of expression is that…?”
Haruka Kondo noticed Koharu’s strangeness.
Her hand, which had been reaching for the phone, stopped in midair, her expression turning serious.
“Miura, what are you talking about? You look completely unlike yourself.”
Koharu didn’t answer.
Because at that very second, just as Haruka Kondo’s words faded,
That familiar sensation struck again, like a cold blade, stabbing in from her unprotected right rear, at a slant.