Nakano Itsuki is a Returner!?
Standing in the now-vacant boys' locker room, Izuru stared at the second letter, his expression a whirlpool of conflicting emotions as he reread that single, solitary sentence over and over. His brain shifted into overdrive, processing the information with clinical speed.
{What exactly is the implication of 'Nakano Itsuki is a Returner'? }
It wasn't that Izuru didn't understand the terminology. As someone who hailed from another world himself, he was intimately familiar with the concept. Besides, the trope of the "time-leaper" or "regressor" was a dime a dozen in thousands of web novels.
What he couldn't wrap his head around was why this letter existed. Was Itsuki truly a Returner, straight out of a work of fiction? If anyone else had laid eyes on this sentence, they likely would have dismissed it as a pathetic prank by someone with too much free time. After all, such things were impossible in the real world, weren't they?
But the one holding this letter was Izuru—a "transmigrator" from another world. Naturally, his perspective was different. He could accept the existence of a Returner with total composure; he already believed in the reality of supernatural phenomena.
Still... why Itsuki? Why would someone inform him of this via a letter? And how could that person possibly know she was a Returner?
Or was the letter truly just a prank? Perhaps the sender was a shut-in who had read one too many time-travel novels and, fueled by jealousy over Itsuki's beauty and figure, concocted this lie to sow seeds of doubt in Izuru—who appeared to have an ambiguous connection with her? If he fell for it, his relationship with Itsuki would crumble under the weight of mutual mistrust.
Crucially, the handwriting was stiff, slanted, and looked forced. Izuru's eyes immediately picked out the pattern: the author wasn't naturally left-handed but had used their non-dominant hand to scrawl the line. Furthermore, the culprit was female, likely a high school girl around his own age.
Beyond that, the trail went cold. Even with his "Super High School Level Observation Skills"—which could typically deduce a person's character and physical traits from their script—that only applied if the subject wrote in their natural style.
If the handwriting was intentionally disguised like this, how could it be read? To force an analysis would be to risk a total misinterpretation. It would be self-defeating.
{But why go through the trouble of disguising the handwriting at all?}
Izuru narrowed his eyes.
{Would an ordinary high schooler pulling a prank think to mask their penmanship? Or does the culprit possess a 'Super High School Level Pranking Talent,' exerting their full effort just to mess with someone? It's bizarre.}
{But... is Itsuki really a Returner?}
Recalling his encounters with her—starting from the cafeteria yesterday, the way they ate together, to her oddly exaggerated behavior while looking at the textbooks earlier—everything felt "off." He felt as though Itsuki's character, usually destined to be the "loser" in the original plot, was malfunctioning. If he applied the Returner theory, those anomalies suddenly made perfect sense.
However, Izuru didn't immediately brand Itsuki a Returner based on a few odd behaviors, even with the mysterious letter in hand. What if it was all just a series of pure coincidences happening in tandem?
What if Itsuki's strange conduct was fueled by some other reason he didn't know? And what if this letter was just a joke that happened to surface at the perfect time? The possibility wasn't zero; in fact, it was quite high. At least to Izuru, it wasn't a possibility he could ignore.
Furthermore, he was certain the sender wasn't Itsuki herself. He had seen her handwriting during class. Even though she wrote with her right hand and this was a disguised left-handed script, Izuru could construct an anatomical model of her body in his mind and simulate what her left-handed writing would look like.
It definitely wasn't Itsuki. That raised a massive red flag: if she was a Returner, how did someone else find out? Did she leak it herself? That seemed highly improbable.
Just then, the sharp trill of the P.E. teacher's whistle echoed from the field. It was the signal for the students to assemble. Forced to move, Izuru tucked the mysterious letter into his inner pocket and quickly changed into his gym clothes. After a moment's thought, he grabbed Saika's letter as well and hurried through the quiet corridors toward the field.
As he exited, Izuru scanned the area around the locker room for any hidden observers or cameras. He found nothing.
This brought him no peace; it only deepened his confusion.
{Even with the handwriting disguised, I can tell the culprit is a right-handed high school girl. And judging by the boys' reactions earlier, they didn't notice a girl entering to plant the letter. That means she chose a moment when the room was completely empty.}
{Additionally, she was likely afraid of being caught, so she didn't stick around to watch. The question is: why would a high school girl go to such meticulous lengths for a simple prank? It's far too elaborate, isn't it?}
Ultimately, Izuru viewed the situation like Schrodinger's cat—an overlapping state of prank and reality that was impossible to determine. It was frustrating, to say the least.
Regardless, he had to set his doubts aside for now and run toward the field for his physical education class.
About five minutes after Izuru arrived at the field, a figure draped in a black cloak—resembling the FFF Inquisition—slipped stealthily into the boys' locker room. The figure opened Izuru's locker with a gloved hand. After observing the empty space for a moment, the figure said nothing, simply nodding before exiting with a light, silent step.
No clear footprints were left behind, no fingerprints, and not a single sound or physical clue remained. Everything stayed shrouded in mystery.