Over on Ryunosuke's end, he was already deep in the throes of a brawl with Yagami, though "brawl" was a generous term—he was being systematically dismantled.
(He really is the strongest of the fifth generation. No doubt about it.)
Ryunosuke had no delusions of grandeur; he wasn't trying to win. He just needed to play the punching bag long enough for Ayanokouji to do his thing.
The two traded blows, but after thirty seconds, Ryunosuke's fatigue showed. Yagami pounced on the opening, seizing Ryunosuke's wrist and executing a textbook over-the-shoulder throw that slammed him into the pavement.
Pain flared across Ryunosuke's back, but he didn't have the luxury of reeling; Yagami's foot was already descending toward him. He scrambled into a desperate roll, wiping cold sweat from his brow as he put distance between them.
"You White Roomers are a bunch of freaking monsters. Is everyone in your club this cracked at fighting?" Ryunosuke gasped as Ayanokouji arrived on the scene.
Ayanokouji reached down, hauling Ryunosuke to his feet before answering with uncharacteristic hesitation.
"I'm not entirely sure. I've been gone for over a year, after all." He paused. "But... generally speaking, anyone in the top three of any White Room generation should be able to handle you."
Ryunosuke went quiet. Note to self: hit the gym. He recalled his promise to Hiratsuka during the last sports festival to spar with her. It seemed like the perfect time to address his shortcomings and get some proper training in.
Glancing at Ayanokouji's mangled hand, Ryunosuke offered a concerned look. "You okay? If you're not up for Round Two, I can call in a ringer."
He reached for his phone, ready to summon Koenji as a substitute fighter. It would cost him one of his "favors," but he didn't mind the price.
Ayanokouji shook his head, signaling he was fine. Even with one hand out of commission, he didn't see himself losing.
Seeing Ayanokouji's dismissive attitude, a vein throbbed in Yagami's temple.
"Heh... you're really looking down on me, aren't you, Ayanokouji-senpai?"
"I am the undisputed peak of the fifth generation! Do you honestly think I'm some amateur? Hah!"
Yagami's composure snapped. Driven by a cocktail of worship and inferiority, he lunged forward. Ayanokouji was the ultimate rival in his heart, and he could not—would not—stomach this blatant disrespect.
Ayanokouji remained a statue of indifference. He gestured for Ryunosuke to back off to avoid the splash zone. After all, Ryunosuke was his most important friend—or rather, his most vital tool—and he couldn't afford to let his investment get damaged. He was guarding his friend's life more fiercely than his own.
(If people didn't know better, they'd think you two had something going on...)
Ayanokouji met Yagami's assault using only one hand. Yet, even restricted, he handled the onslaught with surgical ease.
Finding his opening, he caught Yagami's hand, yanked him inward, and delivered a brutal headbutt. The impact left Yagami reeling, his vision blurring as his cognitive functions momentarily short-circuited.
Seizing the window he'd carved out, Ayanokouji leaped into the air, driving a high-powered kick straight into the back of Yagami's head. The force sent Yagami flying; he tumbled a dozen times across the pavement, struggling feebly to crawl back up.
Ayanokouji showed no mercy. Following the logic of "finish them while they're down"—and with blood still seeping from his palm—he couldn't afford a prolonged engagement. Using his good hand, he rained down a barrage of strikes on the prone Yagami until his opponent was completely unconscious. Only then did he stop.
With the threats neutralized, Ayanokouji walked back to Ryunosuke like a silent bodyguard, signaling that the job was done.
In the meantime, Ryunosuke had been busy. He'd already summoned a doctor for Ayanokouji and two sets of paramedics for the heaps of trash on the ground.
Their synergy was uncanny; even without words, they moved in perfect tandem. One look was all it took to divide the labor.
Ryunosuke had tasked Suzune with the recording to secure Ayanokouji's future. Simultaneously, he'd held off Yagami to keep the board clear for Ayanokouji's move on Housen. And Ayanokouji, the moment his task was done, had rushed to Ryunosuke's side.
Hard to believe that just an hour ago, these two "partners" were both independently plotting to sell the other out.
It truly was a match made in heaven. They were identical in the one way that mattered: their shared talent for using their friends as human shields.
The doctor provided emergency treatment to Ayanokouji, bandaging the wound and strictly warning him to keep it dry. Ayanokouji gave a hollow nod.
Nearby, the unconscious forms of Housen and Yagami were loaded onto stretchers. They slept peacefully, likely destined for a long slumber given the sheer force Ayanokouji had used to end the fight. He hadn't intended to kill them, but he'd certainly prioritized efficiency over their health.
Suzune handed over the video evidence. Ryunosuke and Ayanokouji went to work, editing the footage to highlight only the parts that painted them as victims before submitting it to the school administration.
Housen's expulsion was a foregone conclusion. Yagami, however, managed to dodge the ultimate penalty due to a lack of hard evidence—his fingerprints weren't on the knife, making it difficult to pin the full crime on him.
Still, his status as an accomplice was undeniable. The edited clip clearly showed him standing with Housen, a fact he couldn't explain away. Consequently, while he kept his spot in the school, he was relegated to the campus detention center for "moral education" and corrective discipline for the next two to three months.
The school wanted him to reflect deeply on his failings. As a high-level institution, such disciplinary measures were unavoidable. For Yagami's side, however, not being expelled was a small mercy in a disastrous situation.
Ichika visited the detention room to check on her former comrade-in-arms, now languishing behind bars. She leaned in with a teasing smirk.
"Are you enjoying the show? Seeing me humiliated like this?" Yagami spat.
"Actually, yes. I'm loving it," Ichika admitted bluntly.
"That's what you get for daring to raise a hand against Ayanokouji-senpai. You brought this on yourself."
Bound by his restraints, Yagami let out a frustrated roar. "This is exactly why I didn't want to bring you along!!!"
"Your brain is nothing but Ayanokouji! How could I ever trust you to have my back?!"
Ichika merely scoffed, indifferent to his rage.
"If you try to hurt Ayanokouji-senpai, I won't let you succeed. Even if it's you, Takuya Yagami... I won't hesitate to take you down."
Yagami felt the weight of her betrayal like a physical blow. He sat there, slumped in his chair like a salted fish that had lost its will to swim. He turned his face away, refusing to acknowledge her further.
Seeing that he still had enough spirit to be grumpy, Ichika lost interest and left. She decided it was time to lay low for a while. No more extreme measures; the school would be on high alert after an incident like this.
Ichika was no fool. Risking everything during such a sensitive period was a losing game. Her new plan: play the role of the perfect, model student and stay out of the crosshairs.
With a skip in her step, Ichika vanished into the hallway, humming to herself.
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