The sky was painted in shades of orange and gold as the final bell faded into the distance.
Students flooded out of the school gates in large groups, filling the streets with energy and noise. Some complained about homework, others talked excitedly about weekend plans, and many simply enjoyed the freedom that came with the end of another school day.
Ruko walked past them all in silence.
That wasn't unusual.
He had spent years avoiding unnecessary social interaction, and most students had long accepted that he preferred being left alone.
What felt unusual was the person walking beside him.
"...It's been a while since we walked home together."
Kazuha's voice was gentle as she matched his pace.
Ruko glanced sideways.
The evening sunlight reflected softly against her brown hair, which was tied into the familiar ponytail she had worn for years. Her crimson eyes, usually sharp and confident, appeared slightly softer beneath the warm glow of the setting sun.
"...Yeah."
It wasn't much of an answer, but Kazuha didn't seem bothered by it.
The two continued walking side by side.
The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It simply felt unfamiliar. They had known each other since childhood, yet over the years they had gradually drifted apart. Walking home together like this reminded Ruko of a time when things had been simpler.
A summer breeze rustled through the trees overhead, scattering a few leaves across the sidewalk. The scent of warm pavement mixed with the aroma of food drifting from nearby convenience stores.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
Eventually, Kazuha broke the silence.
"...You've changed."
Ruko frowned slightly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Kazuha looked ahead instead of at him.
"You used to avoid everything."
"Everything?"
"Clubs. School events. Conversations."
A faint smile appeared on her face.
"Especially girls."
Ruko clicked his tongue.
"...Can you blame me?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Kazuha's expression softened.
"...No."
The answer came immediately.
There was no teasing hidden behind it.
No criticism.
No attempt to argue.
Just understanding.
For some reason, that bothered him more than if she had mocked him.
The wind rustled through the trees again as they continued walking.
"But that's why I don't understand."
Ruko glanced toward her.
Kazuha's eyes were focused ahead, but her voice carried genuine curiosity.
"You've spent years keeping everyone at arm's length. You never involve yourself in anything unless you absolutely have to."
She paused briefly.
"So why now?"
Ruko's steps slowed.
He already knew what she was asking.
Why had he joined the Gaming Club?
Why had he touched Nervanox again?
Why had he willingly stepped back into the world he spent three years trying to forget?
The answer surfaced immediately.
Mitsuru.
The name alone was enough to tighten his chest.
He looked away.
"...It's nothing."
Kazuha raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing?"
"...Just a selfish reason."
He left it at that.
There was no way he intended to explain further.
To his surprise, Kazuha didn't push.
The younger version of her would have demanded answers until she got them. Instead, she simply smiled.
"...Thank you."
Ruko stopped walking.
"...What?"
Kazuha looked toward the road ahead.
"I know everyone was harsh earlier."
Her voice became quieter.
"Especially after what happened with Sera."
Ruko immediately remembered the dark-haired girl who had stormed out of the clubroom.
The disappointment in her eyes.
The frustration in her voice.
The obvious resentment she felt toward the team.
"Losing a member like that wasn't easy," Kazuha continued. "We've been under pressure for a long time."
For the first time, Ruko noticed how tired she sounded.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
As club president, she had been carrying responsibilities nobody else noticed.
"So when you showed up and offered to help..."
She hesitated slightly.
"...I really appreciate it."
Ruko didn't know how to respond.
Most people only approached him when they wanted something.
Results.
Solutions.
Performance.
Very few people ever thanked him.
"The Ruko everyone knows at school would never do something like this."
Kazuha smiled faintly.
"You're starting to look like your old self again."
That earned a quiet laugh from him.
A dry one.
"Don't get the wrong idea."
He pointed at himself.
"Just because we're childhood friends doesn't mean you know me that well."
Kazuha blinked.
Ruko continued with complete seriousness.
"Know your place, 3D girl."
A brief pause followed.
Then he added:
"2D is the land of paradise."
For several seconds, Kazuha simply stared at him.
Then she burst out laughing.
Not the polite laugh she used around teachers.
Not the restrained smile she showed during student council meetings.
A genuine laugh.
Bright.
Natural.
Warm.
The sound caught Ruko off guard.
"I guess you really haven't changed at all."
The atmosphere became noticeably lighter afterward.
As they continued walking through the evening streets, the tension that had existed between them slowly faded away.
Eventually, Kazuha spoke again.
"Hey."
Ruko sighed immediately.
"That sounds dangerous."
"...Can I ask something selfish?"
"Depends."
"It's probably annoying."
"Then it definitely depends."
Kazuha hesitated.
"...Please?"
Ruko stopped walking.
"...Fine."
Kazuha turned to face him.
The playful atmosphere disappeared instantly.
Her expression became serious.
Determined.
"Ruko."
She took a breath.
"...Can you become our coach?"
For a moment, he thought he had misheard her.
"...What?"
"The esports team."
She answered quickly.
"We need someone who can guide us."
Her eyes never left his.
"Someone who actually understands the game."
Ruko frowned.
"You're exaggerating."
"No."
The answer came instantly.
"I'm not."
Her certainty caught him off guard.
"You're better than all of us."
"That was one game."
"And yet you identified every weakness in our team immediately."
She stepped closer.
"Even Risa agreed with your analysis."
That wasn't particularly reassuring.
Kazuha continued.
"I'm not asking because we need another player."
Her voice softened.
"I'm asking because I genuinely think you can save this team."
The word coach felt strange.
Uncomfortable.
He had only returned to the game yesterday.
Now someone wanted him leading people again.
"...You know I hate this game, right?"
Kazuha smiled knowingly.
"And yet you still came back."
Mitsuru.
The answer surfaced once more.
If he stayed involved with the club, he would remain close to the truth.
Closer to Mitsuru.
Closer to the answers he had spent years searching for.
Ruko exhaled heavily.
"...This is such a pain."
Kazuha waited patiently.
Eventually, he sighed again.
"...Fine."
Her eyes widened.
"But don't misunderstand."
He immediately looked away.
"I'm not doing this for you."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"...I know."
Without giving her an opportunity to tease him further, Ruko resumed walking.
"I'll think about it properly later."
"Thank you, Ruko."
He didn't answer.
As they continued toward home, one uncomfortable realization settled firmly in his mind.
This was no longer just about finding Mitsuru.
The moment he stepped into that clubroom, he had already stepped back into the world he abandoned three years ago.
And this time, leaving wouldn't be nearly as easy.
The following afternoon, the Gaming Club room felt completely different.
The atmosphere wasn't quiet.
It was tense.
The steady hum of gaming PCs filled the room while the four girls prepared for practice.
Kazuha carefully adjusted her mouse sensitivity.
Risa reviewed performance statistics on a second monitor.
Kana stretched her shoulders while loudly complaining about wrist fatigue.
Hikari leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed, looking completely uninterested in everyone around her.
Meanwhile, Ruko stood behind them silently.
Watching.
Observing.
Studying.
"...So this is your fixed lineup?"
Kazuha nodded.
"These are our main roles."
"We've been practicing this composition for months," Risa added.
Kana smirked confidently.
"We've just been unlucky lately."
Hikari finally looked at him.
"Try not to be annoying."
Ruko ignored her.
"I want to observe first."
That immediately attracted everyone's attention.
"A full practice set."
He folded his arms.
"No advice. No interruptions."
Kana raised an eyebrow.
"That's it?"
"I need to see how you naturally play."
Hikari shrugged.
"Fine."
The matches began.
At first glance, the team looked competent.
Their mechanics were good.
Reaction times were fast.
Individual skill wasn't lacking.
Then the problems appeared.
A delayed rotation.
Poor map coverage.
Mistimed engages.
Objective control failures.
The first loss arrived quickly.
"...Again," Kana muttered.
The second game ended in defeat.
Then the third.
Fourth.
Fifth.
With every loss, frustration accumulated.
Kana became noticeably more aggressive.
Hikari's mouse clicks grew louder.
Risa's expression darkened.
Kazuha remained calm on the surface, but her movements became increasingly rigid.
By the ninth match, the results spoke for themselves.
One win.
Eight losses.
"...That's enough."
The room turned toward him.
Waiting.
Ruko stepped forward.
"You're not losing because you're weak."
Nobody spoke.
"You're losing because your roles don't match who you are."
Kana frowned immediately.
"What?"
Ruko pointed toward Risa.
"You think too much to be a tank."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You constantly calculate outcomes before acting. Tanks can't afford hesitation."
He folded his arms.
"A tank creates opportunities immediately."
Risa remained silent.
Which was practically an admission.
Ruko shifted toward Kana.
"You're too aggressive to be a marksman."
Kana clicked her tongue.
"And what's wrong with aggression?"
"You constantly seek fights."
He pointed toward the replay.
"You want pressure. Close combat. Chaos."
His conclusion was immediate.
"You're playing the wrong role."
Kana couldn't argue.
Because she knew it was true.
Finally, Ruko looked at Hikari.
"You abandon your lane constantly."
Her expression hardened instantly.
"You chase fights everywhere else while your own objectives collapse."
The room grew quieter.
Then he turned toward Kazuha.
"You're too hesitant to be a jungler."
Her fingers tightened around her mouse.
"You keep retreating from fights you should commit to."
He met her eyes.
"A jungler controls the pace of the game."
His voice became firmer.
"But you're afraid of making mistakes."
The room fell silent.
Then Hikari abruptly stood.
The tension snapped.
"...You're seriously pissing me off."
Everyone froze.
Hikari glared directly at him.
"You walk in here, play one impressive match, and suddenly act like you know everything about us?"
Her voice sharpened.
"You don't understand this team."
Ruko met her gaze calmly.
"Then prove me wrong."
That only made her angrier.
"...You're unbearable."
Without another word, she turned and left.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Silence followed.
Kana scratched her cheek awkwardly.
"...Well, that escalated."
Risa adjusted her glasses.
"His analysis wasn't wrong."
Kazuha sighed.
"...But his timing was terrible."
Ruko knew that already.
Because he hadn't approached the problem emotionally.
He approached it logically.
Like a strategist analyzing pieces on a board.
And Hikari had noticed immediately.
That night, Ruko returned to school.
"...I forgot my bag."
The campus was nearly empty.
Dark hallways stretched through the building while only a handful of lights remained on.
After retrieving his bag from the clubroom, he prepared to leave.
Then he noticed something unusual.
A faint light shone beneath the storage room door.
Ruko frowned.
"...Someone's still here?"
He approached slowly and tested the handle.
Locked.
"Hey."
He knocked lightly.
"Someone inside?"
Silence.
Then a voice answered.
"...Yeah."
Everything inside him froze.
That voice.
Soft.
Familiar.
His heartbeat slammed against his chest.
"...Mitsuru."
The name escaped before he could stop it.
Silence followed.
Ruko stepped closer to the door.
"...Open it."
"...I can't."
"Why?"
His palm pressed against the cold metal surface.
Years of buried emotions resurfaced all at once.
"Do you have any idea what you did to me?"
His voice trembled.
"I trusted you."
Memories flooded back.
Countless games.
Endless conversations.
Late-night ranked sessions that stretched until sunrise.
"I kept logging in every night afterward."
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"Like an idiot."
No response came.
"You used to complain that I talked too much."
His grip tightened.
"But you still stayed."
The silence continued.
"We played together every day."
His voice lowered.
"You said I was easy to talk to."
The next words hurt even more.
"So why?"
His forehead rested lightly against the door.
"Why did you lie to me?"
For several moments, nothing happened.
Then—
"...I'm sorry."
The apology was quiet.
Sincere.
And somehow far more painful than anger.
"I know I hurt you."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"But I couldn't tell you the truth."
"...Why not?"
A long pause followed.
Then she answered.
"...Because everything would have changed."
The hallway felt impossibly quiet.
Then Mitsuru spoke again.
"Hey, Ruko."
"...What?"
"...Do you want to play a game?"
He frowned.
"What kind of game?"
A soft breath came from the other side of the door.
"You already know I'm one of them."
His heartbeat accelerated instantly.
"So let's make things interesting."
Ruko remained silent.
"If you can figure out who I am before we graduate..."
She paused.
"...I'll tell you everything."
His jaw tightened.
A game.
Of course she would turn it into a game.
After all these years, she was still the same.
Ruko closed his eyes.
Then opened them again.
"...Fine."
His voice was steady.
"I'll find you."
For the first time, he heard warmth in her voice.
A faint trace of happiness.
"...I'll be waiting."
A moment later, the light beneath the door disappeared.
Somewhere beyond the storage room, another exit opened and closed.
By the time Ruko reached the other side, she was gone.
Just like three years ago.
She had vanished before he could catch her.
Leaving him with nothing but questions.
But this time was different.
This time, he knew she was close.
And no matter how long it took—
he wasn't going to let her disappear again.