If Kondo Haruka wanted to prove that her assertions were correct— that telling Cang-kun about these things wouldn’t actually solve the problem and would only burden him, and that if there were any issues, she should tell Kondo, who would help solve them together— then the moment she told Kondo about this, the moment she said, “Even without Cang-kun, Kondo Haruka can help Koharu Miura and Kiyono Arisa,” Kondo Haruka should have completely cut off the thought of telling Cang-kun about these matters.
It was simple. The Koharu Miura that Kondo Haruka knew was exactly that kind of proud and dignified girl, even when facing Cang-kun.
It was precisely because of that pride and self-respect, and her desire to avoid failure and the possibility of showing weakness in front of Cang-kun, that she had arbitrarily regarded him as a possession and had that experience of competing with herself.
Koharu Miura looked at Kondo Haruka in front of her and knew she was right.
—Because the girl with chestnut-colored curly hair fell into a long silence.
Sunlight streamed through the window lattice, casting shadows on her furrowed brows and shoulders that trembled slightly with emotion.
Koharu Miura sat across from her, her heart pounding violently in her chest, her palms covered in cold, uneasy sweat.
Now, all she could do was hope that Kondo Haruka’s strong sense of self and her distorted possessiveness toward Cang-kun would push her in the direction she wanted.
Finally, Koharu Miura got the result she wanted.
—Kondo Haruka raised her head… a trace of determination flashed in her eyes.
“Cang-kun really isn’t suited for handling this kind of thing.”
“But I’m fine. They wouldn’t dare touch me.”
Kondo Haruka said confidently.
“Scum like that who lurk in the shadows—they’re mine to deal with.”
She looked at Koharu, and then her tone turned more serious than ever before.
“Listen, Miura.”
“Until we catch those bastards, don’t you dare breathe a single word about this to Cang-kun.”
“Since you chose to trust me, I’ll show you what a truly ‘suitable person’ looks like.”
Koharu Miura lowered her eyelids slightly, concealing the joy of success in her eyes.
“Mm, I know.”
Then, the girl with long hair hanging over her shoulders lifted her head and gave Kondo Haruka a smile.
She knew she had achieved her goal.
In a world surrounded by malicious bugs, she had successfully driven a wedge named “Competition” between the two most powerful variables.
A few days later.
In the library, the afternoon sunlight seemed a bit lazy, streaming through the tall french windows onto the redwood reading tables, illuminating every tiny speck of dust in the air.
Koharu Miura sat in the shadow facing away from the light, watching Kondo Haruka across from her, who was propping her chin with one hand, her expression a little grim.
Since that day they reached that dangerous consensus, the atmosphere between them had undergone a subtle shift— the original hostility that had been on the verge of explosion was replaced by the camaraderie of sharing a secret.
Although Kondo Haruka still spoke with a bit of that defiant pride, the content of their conversations had become much more serious.
“Alright, stop staring at me like that.”
Kondo Haruka was the first to break the silence, irritably fiddling with her short chestnut-colored hair.
“The person I’m looking into is named Kobayashi. She’s the manager of the football club and we get along pretty well.”
“She’s in Arisa’s class. I’ve been questioning her closely for the past few days.”
Koharu Miura immediately sat up straight, her eyes focused, obediently adopting a listening posture.
“According to Kobayashi, Kiyono Arisa is practically invisible in that class. I mean it literally.”
Kondo Haruka recalled her friend’s words and relayed them to Koharu Miura.
“Her social relationships are ridiculously simple. She almost never talks to anyone, let alone joins after-school club activities or girls’ gatherings.”
“What’s more…”
Kondo paused, frowning slightly. “Even when the class leader collects forms and charts, she acts weird.”
“Sometimes she fills them out perfectly in advance and hands them in early. But more often, she drags it out until the very last minute, even shoving the form over when the class leader is on the way to the office.”
“Filling it out early, or dragging it out…”
Koharu murmured, and another piece of the puzzle about Kiyono Arisa’s everyday school life fell into place in her mind.
‘So that’s how it is.’
She silently organized the logic in her mind.
‘The ones filled out in advance were probably during the calm periods when there were no rehearsals or performances at the livehouse. The ones she kept putting off—most likely because when the forms were being handed out, she happened to get a last-minute notice or encountered some emergency from those people.’
‘She simply didn’t have time to deal with these trivial school matters because in another world, she was right in the eye of the storm.’
“Kobayashi said some people in her class find Arisa strange. Why does someone who seems efficient at times act so extremely over petty things at others?”
Kondo tapped her fingers rhythmically on the table, staring sharply at Koharu. “Hey, Miura. You must be able to pick up something from these scattered details, right?”
Although Kondo’s tone still carried her usual provocative edge, her eyes showed a look that expected a response.
Koharu Miura didn’t answer immediately. She looked at the shadow of the book stretched across the tabletop by the sunlight, her mind working quickly.
‘It’s not just a matter of time allocation. Kiyono Arisa maintaining this invisible-person status in her class isn’t so much her personality as it is a form of self-protection.’
‘She’s afraid of forming deep social bonds, because everyone familiar with her could become leverage for the malicious people to threaten her. Just like Mayumi…’
Having figured that out, Koharu Miura raised her head and met Kondo Haruka’s gaze.
“Kondo-san, I think this actually proves that the threats Arisa faces are all-encompassing. The extreme passivity and unsociability she shows at school are meant to reduce her presence in the real world.”
“She wants to shrink into a shell, thinking that way she can give those malicious people no target to attack. But as we’ve seen, that ‘loneliness’ only makes it easier for the other side to strike.”
Koharu Miura’s voice was very soft, yet carried an undeniable calmness.
“If I had to take inspiration…”
“I think of one key point. Since she shows two extremes—‘early’ and ‘late’—when handling routine tasks like forms, it means her daily rhythm isn’t controlled by herself, but by a certain schedule.”
Koharu Miura took out her phone and opened the calendar app.
“If we can cross-reference the dates Kobayashi mentioned when Arisa ‘delayed handing in forms’ with the livehouse performance schedule, and even with the timeline of those ‘anonymous report letters’ Cang-kun received…”
“We might discover that those people aren’t acting randomly. They create chaos at specific times to disrupt Arisa’s normal school life, forcing her into submission.”
She looked at Kondo Haruka, her tone becoming serious.
“They’re not playing pranks, Kondo-san. They’re trying to cut off Arisa’s social connections as a ‘student’ bit by bit, leaving her with no choice but to seek the only living space in that dark corridor. If that separation is complete, then the anniversary performance will be the finish line of the final persecution.”
Kondo Haruka listened to Koharu Miura’s analysis, and her arms, which had been crossed over her chest, unconsciously loosened.
In those eyes accustomed to straightforward athletic thinking, an emotion akin to “fear” appeared for the first time.
“…Are you saying those people want to corner her until she completely disappears from this school?” Kondo asked coldly, a suppressed anger brewing in her voice. “Those scum are playing psychological warfare?”
“Because direct violence would attract the attention of the school and the police. But this kind of ‘soft violence’ only makes people think Arisa is antisocial or has attitude problems.” Koharu smiled bitterly.
“That’s why we can’t tell Cang-kun directly. Because once he gets involved, the other side would use his perfect personality as a target and sling mud at more people. Then even you, Kondo-san, would…”
Koharu Miura stopped at the right moment, a sincere light called “protection” shining in her eyes.
Of course, it was an act.