Tokyo Detention Center — Mr. Kagura's Perspective
The corridor felt heavier after I left that cell.
Not because of the cold steel or the suffocating silence—but because of him.
Ren.
Even thinking his name irritated me. Trash like that shouldn't carry presence. And yet… the air around him lingered, like something coiled and waiting.
I clicked my tongue and continued walking.
Then—
"Mr. Kagura!"
One of the guards came rushing toward me, slightly out of breath. His posture was off—uneasy.
"There's a call for you."
I stopped.
"A call?"
"Yes… from someone claiming to be FBI."
That made me pause longer than I intended.
"…What?"
"I don't know," he added quickly. "But the guy sounds… off. Not serious at all."
Of course he didn't.
Real authority doesn't need theatrics.
"I don't know any FBI agents," I said flatly.
"That's what I thought too," he replied, scratching his head. "Still… they insisted."
I exhaled sharply.
Annoying.
Pointless.
But ignoring it could be worse.
"Fine."
I followed him down the corridor toward the office phones. Another guard stood there, holding the receiver like it might explode.
He handed it to me.
I took it without thanks.
"…Who is this?" I asked.
Silence.
Then—
"Knock knock."
I frowned.
"…Who's there?"
"Interrupting cow."
This was absurd.
"…Interrupting cow wh—"
"MOOOOOO—!"
The voice burst through the receiver, loud and ridiculous.
Laughter followed.
Loud. Unrestrained. Almost childish.
My grip tightened around the phone.
This was a joke.
A waste of time.
I was about to hang up when the laughter tapered off.
"Oh, don't mind me," the voice said, still chuckling. "Just warming up. You're Mr. Kagura, right?"
"…Yes."
"Good. Then you're the one in charge of monitoring Ren. The 'Serpent of Tokyo.'"
My expression hardened.
"…Why does that concern you?"
There was a brief pause.
Then the tone shifted.
Completely.
No laughter. No playfulness.
Just… weight.
"I need you to do me a favor."
"…What kind of favor?"
Another pause.
And then—
"I need you to ensure Ren suffers."
For a moment, I thought I misheard.
"…What?"
"Start a fight. Or better yet, encourage one. Get him thrown into solitary confinement. Break his rhythm. Make him desperate to leave."
My brows furrowed.
This wasn't just illegal.
It was deliberate manipulation of a detainee.
"…And why would I do that?"
The answer came immediately.
"Because the Tokyo Detention Center has already accepted our arrangement."
My stomach tightened.
"…You're bluffing."
"Oh?"
"They wouldn't risk that."
The voice chuckled again—but this time, it wasn't playful.
It was… knowing.
"Tell me, Mr. Kagura. Do you believe in justice?"
"…Of course I do."
My answer came out sharper than expected.
"Those in power are supposed to uphold it. Without bias. That's the point of the system."
Silence.
Then—
Laughter.
Even louder than before.
"Ahh… that's a good one," the voice said. "You can keep believing that if it helps you sleep."
My jaw tightened.
"Even my partner—who's obsessed with justice—knows the truth. Power corrupts. Always."
The voice leaned closer, metaphorically speaking.
"So let's not pretend this is about law."
A beat.
"Will you do it?"
"…No."
The word came out firm.
"That violates—"
"The law?" he cut in.
A scoff.
"The law is just a human construct. And like all human constructs, it has cracks."
I said nothing.
Because I knew that part was true.
"If you refuse," he continued calmly, "we'll simply adjust the arrangement. More money. More pressure."
My grip tightened again.
"…What are you implying?"
"A replacement is always an option."
There it was.
Not a threat.
A fact.
"…What do you think, Mr. Kagura?"
Silence stretched between us.
I could feel the eyes of the other guards on me. Waiting.
Judging.
Useless.
"…Very well," I said quietly.
I hung up.
The dial tone echoed for a moment before I set the receiver down.
One of the guards approached.
"What did they want?"
"…Nothing you need to worry about."
I turned and walked away.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
Not because of fear.
But because I understood something now.
That man on the phone—
He wasn't asking.
And worse…
He wasn't lying.
As I walked back toward the cells, one thought echoed in my mind:
Justice… is far more fragile than I believed.
And somewhere behind those steel doors—
The "trash" I intended to break…
Might already be part of something far beyond this place...
( a few minutes later)
Kei Fushimiya — Perspective
The second game ended exactly how I expected.
A one-sided loss.
Flag football was never going to favor us. Not against players like Scarlet, Dusk, and Iron—individuals who weren't just participants, but constants. The kind of pieces the system bends around rather than replaces.
Predictable.
As the crowd began to disperse, the intercom crackled overhead.
> "Due to funding complications, the ice skating obstacle course has been canceled. It will be replaced with a performance-based competition. Each grade will perform as a unit. Judges will determine the winner based on execution and creativity."
A logistical downgrade disguised as adaptation.
No one cared.
Most students dismissed it immediately and started filing out of the stadium. Their attention spans were as short as their foresight.
I remained seated.
Not because I was interested in the announcement—but because something else caught my attention.
Mei.
She was walking with Scarlet. Not casually. Not coincidentally.
Deliberately.
That alone was enough.
I stood up.
As I descended the steps, I paused briefly and glanced back.
"…Aren't you coming?"
Ichika Renji was still seated, watching me with that usual amused expression.
"Keeping your enemies close?" he said, smirking.
"…Something like that."
"I'd join you," he added, standing up, "but we have a sword duel tomorrow. Preparation matters."
Convenient.
He turned and headed toward the VIP section.
I went the opposite direction.
---
The hallway they entered was one of the quieter sections of the stadium. Poorly trafficked. Minimal surveillance.
Intentional.
I slowed my pace and positioned myself around the corner, keeping out of sight.
Voices followed shortly after.
"What do you want?" Scarlet's tone carried irritation. "You've been quiet this whole time."
I leaned slightly, just enough to observe.
Mei stood with her back to me.
I couldn't see her face.
But I could see her hands.
Clenched.
"…You're a piece of garbage."
The shift was immediate.
Her voice—normally light, almost playful—had changed into something colder. Sharper.
Even I found it… unexpected.
Scarlet noticed it too.
"…Who are you?" she said, her confidence faltering. "You're not the same girl from earlier."
Mei stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders.
"Do you know how much I despise people like you?"
Her grip tightened.
"Self-centered. Arrogant. Acting like you're above everyone else when you're nothing more than a worm crawling on the ground."
Scarlet forced her hands off and stepped back.
For the first time since I've seen her—
She looked afraid.
Interesting.
Then Mei reached into her pocket.
At first, I couldn't identify the object. The light reflected off it, distorting its shape.
But Scarlet's reaction told me enough.
Fear doesn't manifest without cause.
"Maybe," Mei said softly, "I should leave a few scars. Help you understand your place."
Scarlet tried to regain control.
"I-if you do that, the freshmen will be disqualified—"
"I don't care."
She cut her off instantly.
"I don't care about this class. I don't care about Class A. I don't care about any of this."
A pause.
"I just want to see people like you break."
She moved.
The reflection disappeared.
Glass.
A sharp fragment.
That's when I acted.
---
By the time she closed the distance, I was already there.
I grabbed her wrist mid-motion.
The glass stopped inches from Scarlet.
Mei turned toward me.
Our eyes met.
There was no hesitation in hers.
Only intent.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" I said.
My tone came out colder than expected.
"…How many people you're about to drag down with you?"
She pulled her arm back.
"Stay out of it, Kei. This doesn't concern you—"
"Do you know what happens if you go through with this?"
I cut her off.
She frowned slightly.
"…Why should I care?"
Of course.
Emotion over logic.
I exhaled quietly.
"Article 4," I said. "Unrestricted violence leads to expulsion. And a class penalty."
She didn't respond.
So I continued.
"Article 21. Injury inflicted by another student allows point extraction. Severe penalties if it involves different grades."
A brief pause.
"If you had done this," I added, "you wouldn't just ruin yourself. You'd drag down the entire grade."
That got her attention.
Not emotionally.
But logically.
Her grip loosened.
The glass slipped from her hand.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
It was gone.
The hostility.
The tension.
Like it had never existed.
She smiled.
Soft. Innocent.
"…I see."
A light chuckle followed.
"Thanks for the warning, Kei."
As if this had been a normal conversation.
"See you tomorrow."
She turned and walked away, humming quietly to herself.
No hesitation.
No guilt.
Nothing.
---
Scarlet stood frozen.
She didn't say anything.
Didn't move.
Her earlier confidence had completely collapsed.
I didn't bother addressing her.
There was no point.
Instead, I turned and left the hallway.
---
As I walked out of the stadium, one conclusion became clear.
Mei wasn't unstable.
She was volatile.
And volatility, if left unchecked, becomes a liability.
If she ever crosses that line again—
Then the optimal solution is obvious.
I won't hesitate.
I'll remove her....