Chapter 30: Leave the rest to me…
Thursday, 8:00 AM. University Lecture Hall C.
The low hum of chatter filled the expansive lecture hall. Students, scattered across tiered seating, were a tapestry of pre-lecture activity. Some leaned in, voices hushed in shared gossip or last-minute discussions about assignments. Others were islands of digital absorption, fingers flying across phone screens, thumbs mashing buttons in brightly colored mobile games, the faint pings and zaps a subtle counterpoint to the human murmur. The air was thick with the scent of coffee, paper, and the faint, almost imperceptible buzz of restless energy.
Suddenly, the discreet rear door on the elevated platform, the one reserved for academic staff, swung open. Professor Kusanagi entered, a figure of calm authority amidst the youthful chaos. His neatly combed grey hair caught the fluorescent light, perfectly complementing his impeccably tailored grey suit. He walked with measured steps to the wooden lectern, placing a stack of books and a tablet upon its surface. With a practiced motion, he clipped a sleek, modern microphone – a thin arm curving from an earpiece to just before his lips – freeing his hands.
"Alright, folks, let's settle down a bit," his amplified voice cut smoothly through the din. "Today's session is crucial. We'll be covering a significant topic that will feature prominently in the first semester examination for the module I'm teaching."
A subtle shift rippled through the hall. Phones were reluctantly pocketed, replaced by the rustle of notebooks opening and the click of pens. Within seconds, he had their undivided attention, a sea of expectant faces turned towards him.
As he began his introduction, Kusanagi's sharp gaze swept across the front rows, a habit honed over years of teaching. Huh… he thought, a slight frown creasing his brow. Hikari isn't here? Could it be he overslept or something similar? Unusual for him, especially for an important topic.
Simultaneously. Simon High School Entrance.
Hikari stood on the sidewalk directly opposite the main gate of Simon High School. Above the wide, wrought-iron entrance, a polished wooden sign proudly proclaimed: "Simon High School." Morning traffic hummed along the street behind him – a procession of cars, buses, and buzzing scooters. Students, a vibrant stream of uniformed males and females, chattered and laughed as they flowed past him and through the school gates.
He was a stark contrast to the uniformed students. He wore crisp white jeans, clean black sneakers, and a plain black t-shirt. A single strap of his two-strap backpack was slung over his shoulder. His blue eyes, usually so intense, were calm, almost placid, observing the scene. His skin, though pale, had a clear, healthy look, but his blond hair, usually just a little messy, seemed particularly untamed today, a stark contrast to the neatness of his attire.
He took a slow step forward, a thought flickering through his mind: Perhaps I shouldn't have worn these jeans. If this escalates to a fight, they might restrict my movement. He immediately dismissed the notion. No, no, it shouldn't escalate to a fight. There's always a peaceful solution… even if it often fails.
He walked towards the gate, passing the uniformed security guard who gave him a cursory glance but didn't challenge him – perhaps his confident stride or his age, which could easily pass for a senior student or a very young alumnus, played a part.
The transition from the bustling street to the school grounds was immediate. The hallways inside were a familiar blend of polished linoleum, rows of blue lockers, and bulletin boards plastered with announcements and colorful student artwork. The faint scent of floor wax and old textbooks permeated the air. He moved with a quiet purpose, his footsteps echoing slightly in the less crowded corridors, eventually arriving before a sturdy, brown wooden door. A simple brass plaque read: "Principal's Office."
Hikari raised his hand, his knuckles rapping softly against the wood. He waited. Silence.
He let out a soft sigh. "Expected this," he murmured. "The principal will only head here once the students are in their classrooms."
He adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and began to walk, his steps unhurried as he navigated the school's inner labyrinth.
He spent some time wandering, a silent observer in the morning rush. Ascending a wide staircase, he heard a burst of laughter. Three girls, descending, brushed past him. Their hair – one with a sleek black bob, another with long, light brown waves, the third with a playful reddish ponytail – bounced with their animated movements. They were engrossed in their conversation, their voices carrying clearly.
"I can't believe this, isn't there, like, a man in her family or even a friend to step in?" one said, a smirk playing on her lips.
"She's even afraid to tell the teacher," another added, her eyes gleaming with a cruel amusement.
"This just makes it more exciting, doesn't it?" the third chimed in, giggling.
"Let's totally take off her underwear in class next time!" the first one declared with a theatrical flourish.
"Ooh, that's bold, girl! Haha!" the ponytail girl shrieked with laughter.
Hikari stopped dead on the stairs for a fleeting moment as their voices faded down the corridor. A cold dread seeped into him. Could it be…?
He shook his head almost imperceptibly, a whisper escaping his lips as he resumed his ascent. "No, impossible. Sera wouldn't hide something like this from me…"
He reached the top of the stairs. This was the third-floor corridor, home to the first-year classrooms. It was a hive of activity. Many classrooms were already filling up, and the hallways still buzzed with students in the last chaotic minutes before the morning bell.
He stood at the threshold of each classroom door, his blue eyes scanning left and right, searching. Students glanced at him, their expressions curious. He looked about their age, perhaps a second or third-year student at most.
He reached the very last classroom at the end of the long corridor. He paused at the doorway, his gaze sweeping across the room. And then he saw her. His sister, Sera, was slumped in a seat at the very back, near the windows. Her signature blond hair, usually so bright, seemed to spill lifelessly over her arms. Her school bag was on the desk, and her head was resting heavily upon it. She wore an elegant, pale blue blouse and simple, long white silk pants. The classroom around her was filled with the low hum of chatter and muffled laughter.
Under the sudden, intense scrutiny of the students, Hikari stepped into the classroom. A wave of silence rippled outwards from the door as he moved, his gaze fixed. Whispers died, laughter choked.
He walked directly towards Sera's desk.
He stood before her. She didn't even notice, didn't lift her head.
Then, the unnatural quiet of the room seemed to penetrate her distress. She must have thought the teacher had arrived. Slowly, she raised her head. The surface of her bag was damp, stained with tears and the faint, glistening trace of mucus.
Her vision was blurry. She rubbed her eyes with the soft, long sleeve of her blue blouse, then fumbled for a tissue to discreetly wipe her nose.
Through the watery haze, she saw two feet standing directly in front of her desk. Black sneakers. White jeans.
Her own blue eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, slowly, hesitantly, traced upwards. A black t-shirt. A familiar backpack. And then, his face. Hikari's face. His blue eyes, usually so expressive in their own cool way, were now an unreadable mask, devoid of overt emotion, yet tinged with something that might have been a deep, simmering frustration.
Sera's nose was cherry red. Her eyes looked utterly exhausted, haunted. She didn't utter a single word. Fresh tears welled up and then spilled over, streaming down her pale cheeks in glistening trails. In that beautifully tragic moment, her eyes shimmered like troubled water before she finally whispered, her voice trembling uncontrollably, "Hikari… oniichan…"
The entire class watched in stunned silence. Hikari reached out and gently placed his hand on top of her head.
It was like a dam bursting.
A raw, choked sob tore from Sera's throat. Her chair screeched backward on the polished linoleum floor as she launched herself forward, burying her face into her brother's stomach, her arms wrapping around him in a desperate, clinging hug.
The force of her lunge sent Hikari stumbling backward. He lost his footing, and they both crashed to the classroom floor – a pale, slightly scuffed cream-colored linoleum.
Gasps echoed through the room. Students stared, mouths agape, at the tangled heap of siblings on the floor. Hikari hadn't let go. His hand remained on her hair, a steadying pressure as she sobbed uncontrollably into his t-shirt, her small body shaking with the force of her grief.
He looked up, his gaze sweeping across the shocked faces of the other students. Why didn't anyone help her? The question burned in his mind. Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't she inform the teachers, or even the principal? Why, why, why? He found himself trapped in a relentless loop of unanswered questions.
He looked down again at his sister, her face buried against him, her shoulders wracked with sobs. He realized then that asking her for excuses, for explanations of why she'd hidden this, would achieve nothing.
A wave of self-reproach washed over him. For the past two weeks, even before he'd received the Wistoria, Sera had been making strange excuses to miss school. He hadn't paid much attention, dismissing it as typical teenage behavior. Now, he was facing the consequences of not caring enough about his own sister's life.
Just then, the three girls from the staircase sauntered into the classroom, laughing and joking amongst themselves. The one in the middle, the girl with the sleek black bob, was carrying a stack of papers – test papers, it seemed. Behind them, the teacher entered: a man with neat black hair, kind brown eyes behind rectangular glasses, dressed in a light brown corduroy jacket and dark trousers.
The girls' laughter died abruptly as they registered the strange, heavy atmosphere in the room.
The other students glanced nervously between the three newcomers and the scene on the floor. Hikari, from the corner of his eye, saw them.
He gently helped Sera sit up on the floor, patting her head softly. Instead of asking why she'd hidden it, instead of demanding an explanation, he simply said, his voice low but clear, "You did well. Now, leave the rest to me…"
Sera's tear-filled eyes, wide and uncomprehending, watched him as he stood up and began to walk.
He moved towards the three girls, who were now standing frozen near the doorway. Panic flickered in their eyes. The teacher, initially bewildered, stepped forward, a professional, if somewhat forced, smile appearing on his face. "Well, well, it's Hikari! The student who achieved the highest graduation marks from our school last year. What brings you to my classroom today?"
Hikari brushed past him, his shoulder making rough, deliberate contact with the teacher's. The teacher stumbled slightly, shock replacing his smile as he turned, utterly failing to comprehend Hikari's palpable anger.
The two girls further back recoiled in terror. The one holding the papers, the black-bobbed girl, tried to maintain a shred of her earlier audacity, her green eyes narrowed and hard. "What's the matter with you?" she challenged, her voice attempting a bravado it didn't quite achieve. "Don't tell me you're going to hurt a girl younger than you—"
Hikari's blue eyes, no longer unreadable, blazed with a cold, overwhelming fury that seemed to pour out of him. He didn't say a word. He just punched her. Violently. In the face.
BASH!!!
The stack of papers exploded into the air, fluttering down like startled white birds. The girl cried out, a choked, surprised sound, as she was thrown backward, landing heavily on her back. The other two girls screamed, pure, unadulterated terror in their voices.
Then, chaos erupted.
Girls in the classroom shrieked. The teacher and several male students, jolted into action, surged forward, lunging at Hikari to restrain him, to stop him from committing another act of violence. He was a whirlwind of fury, already trying to get at the other two bullies, who had collapsed to their knees, paralyzed by fear.
Sera, her face a mask of tear-streaked shock, watched in horror as her brother, the calm, collected Hikari she knew, was consumed by a rage she had never witnessed.
The girl on the floor, blood trickling from her nose, her eyes wide with disbelief before fluttering closed, slowly lost consciousness.
The sounds of the struggle, the shouts, the screams, the thudding of bodies, seemed to crescendo… and then, as if a heavy velvet curtain was being drawn across the scene, everything began to dim, the sounds receding, growing distant, muffled, until there was only a ringing silence.
[A/N]
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