Chapter 1: The Whereabouts of the Perpetrator and the Avengers on the Day Before the Date

──Saturday, the day before (afternoon of September 6) · Miyuki’s perspective──

“This time, I deeply apologize for my foolish son’s actions. I will cover all the hospital expenses.”

Senpai’s father bowed deeply, his tone heavy with sincerity. But Mom didn’t so much as glance his way.

“Don’t insult me,” she said icily. “I can pay for this myself. As expected of a politician, huh? Looking down on us while putting on a convincing act of remorse. I don’t want to see the face of a fraud like you, so please leave.”

Her words cut through the air, sharp and unyielding. They seemed to pierce me as well, each syllable tightening the ache in my chest. I’d never seen Mom this angry before. It was my fault—collapsing like this, burdening her with worry when she was already stretched thin.

“Then, I’ll leave my business card here. Please contact me if anything comes up.”

Senpai’s father placed an envelope with money discreetly where Mom wouldn’t notice and quietly left the room.

Once they were gone, the hospital room fell into a heavy silence. Mom’s voice, trembling with emotion, broke the stillness.

“Miyuki, I don’t understand you. That Kondou person knew you had a boyfriend and still approached you, right? Why would you… Do you really love that man?”

“…”

I couldn’t answer. My thoughts were a tangled mess, and I didn’t even understand myself anymore. Worse, if Mom found out that Eiji was being bullied because of us, what would she think? The fear of her discovering the truth gripped me tightly.

“So, you won’t answer,” she said, her voice low and strained. “What you did is wrong as a human being. As a parent, I couldn’t even teach my daughter something so important. I’m truly the worst parent.”

Her words crushed me. Mom, who had raised me single-handedly through countless sacrifices, was forced to say such harsh things because of me. Despair overwhelmed me, and I trembled, tears spilling down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“The person you should apologize to isn’t me,” she replied, her tone cold and final. “Go home today. Please, just leave me alone.”

Those words, sharp and rejecting, stabbed into my chest like a blade, leaving a wound that burned with every breath.

※

──Same day, afternoon · Informant’s perspective──

I confirmed the cheating couple was taken into custody and slipped back to the station near the high school just before sunset. But my revenge doesn’t end here. This is merely the opening move.

I retrieved my uniform from the station’s coin locker, changed in the restroom, and headed to school, my expression carefully neutral. Most club activities were winding down, students sweeping up or packing away equipment. With the mock exams over, many were leaving early.

If I ran into someone I knew, I could brush it off by saying I forgot something. I’d skipped today’s mock exam, claiming illness, and informed the school beforehand. Mentioning I came to grab a vocabulary notebook for a quiz now that I felt better should keep suspicion at bay.

No matter who I had to deceive, revenge was my priority.

I made my way to the soccer club’s room unnoticed. Their practice had already ended, likely in preparation for a practice match tomorrow—a perfect opportunity to unveil the photos. Even as a non-athlete, wandering near the field in my uniform wouldn’t raise eyebrows. The school’s clubrooms sat far from the athletic fields, with the sports clubs clustered together. Anyone would assume I’d just finished practice and changed to head home.

Nonchalantly, I slid an envelope containing photos I’d developed at a convenience store through the gap under the soccer club’s door.

The soccer club worshipped Kondou. I’d confirmed their active role in Aono’s bullying, cloaked in their warped sense of justice. I held no mercy for these villains. This envelope was a time bomb. Kondou’s soccer talent and the charisma it fueled were formidable, but charisma is fragile. All it took was a seed of doubt to shatter it.

“These photos will tear the soccer club apart,” I murmured. “Even if they weather this, they won’t survive the tournament. The members will inflate the story themselves.”

Mitsuta, a second-year in the soccer club, clung to Kondou’s influence like a remora to a shark. My investigation had already pinned several second-years as participants in Aono’s bullying. They were fools. A glance at SNS would’ve revealed how deeply the soccer club was entangled.

[T/N: A remora, sometimes called a suckerfish, spends most of its life clinging to larger marine animals like sharks.]

The school was likely already investigating, so they probably knew. My role was to deliver the final blow and let the club implode in the chaos.

Yet the school’s leniency toward them hinted at something deeper. Two possibilities surfaced.

Hypothesis 1: The school was gathering airtight evidence to dismantle Kondou, the ringleader, before he could shift blame to others.

If true, my task was simple. I had damning photo data on Kondou. Cooperating with the teachers could corner him.

Hypothesis 2: The school was actively covering it up.

This would complicate things. The photos might be brushed off as mere proof of an inappropriate relationship, resulting in a slap on the wrist.

Kondou’s father, a local construction company president and city councilor, added a layer of difficulty.

If Hypothesis 1 held, the school was likely waiting for decisive evidence to crush Kondou before his father could intervene. If Hypothesis 2, they might be shielding him out of fear of that influence, forcing me to escalate to other councilors or the board of education.

I’d considered tipping off exposé streamers, but their sensationalized edits risked further harming Aono, so I abandoned the idea.

“Even if the soccer club collapses and they crash at the tournament, it’ll barely dent Kondou’s record,” I thought bitterly. “He’ll keep living carefree, hurting others like he did Aono.”

I couldn’t forgive myself. If I’d acted back then, Kondou’s arrogance might never have festered. I was the only one who could’ve stopped him.

The face of my former childhood friend, now twisted with resentment, flashed in my mind. This would surely break his fragile mental state, but I didn’t care. My loyalty lay with the friend who’d stood by me in my darkest moments, not the one who’d abandoned me.

My heart had shattered, turning me into a shut-in. After repeating a year, I’d barely clawed my way into this school, only to let Kondou’s malice spread—a failure that was mine to bear.

“Hey, Endou, right? What’s up? Isn’t the science club off today? Weren’t you sick since yesterday? You missed the mock exam too.”

A voice jolted me from behind. I turned to see Imai, my classmate, in his archery uniform.

This was a stroke of luck. Imai was Aono’s other childhood friend and a close ally. Through Aono, he’d become my second friend in high school. He had to know something.

This encounter could be a turning point in my revenge.

The die was cast. Fate was on my side.

“Oh, I forgot something,” I said smoothly. “There’s a quiz next week, right? The English vocab one. I left my notebook, so I came to get it.”

My prepared excuse landed effortlessly. Even someone as sharp as Imai shouldn’t suspect a thing.

“Got it. But you’re not feeling well, right? You missed the exam. Don’t push yourself. I could’ve brought it to your place.”

“That’d be too much trouble, and I locked it in my locker.”

He seemed convinced, so I shifted to the real topic, having cleared the first hurdle of avoiding suspicion.

“By the way, is Aono okay? I messaged him, but he hasn’t read it.”

He was likely avoiding it deliberately. I would too, in his shoes. With the school’s malice trained on him, checking SNS must feel like stepping into a minefield.

I couldn’t forgive those who’d driven my precious friend into this corner, turning my benefactor into a plaything for their cruelty. There was no letting that slide.

“He’s managing,” Imai replied. “So, you’re worried about him too, Endou. That’s a relief. It’s not just us—there are still people who care.”

“Of course. Aono isn’t the kind to do what the rumors claim.”

“Then let’s visit him after the break. He’s attending the infirmary for now. Thanks to Takayanagi-sensei and others, he’s recovering a lot. He’d be thrilled if you came.”

Thank you, Imai. Knowing Aono was recovering with the teachers’ support was critical for my plan. It suggested the school wasn’t planning a cover-up. If there’d been even a hint of that, Imai would’ve taken drastic steps.

This tilted the scales toward Hypothesis 1.

For now, I’d pass the photo data to the school and gauge their response. The school’s website listed a fax number for contact—outdated, but perfect. Sending it from a convenience store’s printer would make it nearly untraceable, unlike an email.

To ensure it wasn’t dismissed as a prank, I’d also drop an envelope with the developed photos into the school’s mailbox, addressed to Takayanagi-sensei.

That would complete the second phase of my revenge.

“Alright, I’m heading home. See you next week.”

I kept my tone calm, ending the conversation swiftly. I couldn’t drag Imai into this. If he sided with me and became a target of Kondou’s wrath, it’d be disastrous. If Imai ended up like Aono, I’d never forgive myself.

“Take care,” Imai said, then hesitated, his usual straightforwardness faltering. “Oh, Endou, this might be meddling… or just my imagination, but…”

“Hm?”

“Don’t overdo it. If it’s really tough, rely on me or a teacher, please.”

For a moment, time stopped.

Did he know? How? I’d left no obvious clues. Realizing my face had soured, I forced a smile. I couldn’t let him see through me. Imai was sharp—even with scant details, he might piece it together. If he did, he’d try to help, stepping onto a dangerous path.

“Oh, you mean the cold, right? Thanks for worrying.”

I squeezed out the excuse, and he laughed, his usual easy smile returning.

“Yeah, yeah, the cold. Coming all the way for a notebook is tough, huh?”

I neither confirmed nor denied, just laughed along to keep things vague.

We parted ways, our laughter echoing faintly in the emptying halls.

※

──Same day, evening · Takayanagi’s perspective──

The mock exams were over, and I could’ve gone home, but unfinished work kept me in the staff room. What a grueling week. The battle was just beginning, but Aono’s remedial classes had started, and communication with his parents was running smoothly. With the staff’s trust, things were progressing well so far. I’d need to work tomorrow, but one final push would see it through.

“Smooth, huh?” I muttered. “Thinking that makes me arrogant. We caused trouble that shouldn’t have happened. The school isn’t blameless.”

A twinge of self-loathing crept in as my weaker thoughts surfaced. Another issue gnawed at me. Ayase-sensei, the assistant homeroom teacher, felt responsible for Aono’s case, slipped into depression, and took sick leave. I wanted to support her, but Aono was my priority, so I’d left her to the principal and vice-principal.

This case brimmed with regrets. Dwelling on them would dull my judgment, and the longer this dragged on, the more it became a test of endurance.

I was probably exhausted. Only the support of those around me had carried me this far.

Finishing a delayed quiz’s grading, I stood to take a break. Coffee would clear my head. Mug in hand, I grabbed instant coffee from the cabinet and passed the printer when the fax machine whirred to life.

“A fax? That’s rare these days.”

The board of education used it occasionally, but in the Reiwa era, even email felt outdated. Some teachers used LINE for student mailing lists, which still surprised me.

I glanced at the fax. A photo-like image emerged.

“What!?”

The resolution was low, typical for a fax, but it was spitting out the evidence I needed. The black-and-white photo was murky, but the fax data should be stored on the school’s server. I could check it there.

Forgetting the coffee, I hurried to the server and pulled up the image data. Adjusting the colors with image software sharpened the details beyond what the fax could show.

“Kondou and Amada…”

The photo’s timestamp was unclear, but it unmistakably showed them entering a love hotel. A second image captured them being detained by police. A handwritten note read, “The original color photos are in the school’s mailbox. Please check.” I recalled their statements.

“Sure, Eiji and I had a messy breakup… and when I was talking to Kondou-senpai about it, Eiji saw us walking together and misunderstood.”

“So, when we happened to be walking together, he saw us and assumed she was cheating.”

Their words now reeked of lies. With this evidence, I could press them harder. If the investigation went well, the truth might be within reach.

But one thing troubled me.

The anonymous informant—likely a student, not a teacher. A parent wouldn’t resort to such a circuitous method.

How had a student obtained these photos?

They were treading a dangerous path.

Their actions screamed of a deep grudge against Kondou or a debt owed to Aono. Either way, the photos revealed a fierce resolve, even at personal cost.

A teenager…

What kind of pain forged such determination?

They were still a minor, someone adults should protect.

In my career, I’d seen too many kids I couldn’t save—students kept from school by parents’ debts, others who turned to delinquency from neglect, and now Aono, his future warped by vicious bullying.

I wanted to find this student and help them. It might be presumptuous, but as a teacher, it was my duty.

I’d act before it was too late.

I’d resolve this.

I contacted the principal and vice-principal to share the information. After some time, they arrived at the school.

“Takayanagi-sensei, sorry for keeping you late,” the principal said, his apology sincere.

“No, I was planning to stay late anyway.”

While waiting, I’d chipped away at some work. This photo could unravel their statements. It might be a prank to harass Kondou, but it didn’t look fabricated.

At the very least, we needed to confront Kondou and Amada with this and verify their lies.

“Thanks for contacting us right away,” the vice-principal said. “But if a student took this photo, it’s serious. We need to find and protect them immediately. Otherwise, they could be in danger. That’s our job as adults. Students should be protected.”

The principal’s worried yet thoughtful expression reassured me. Knowing my boss shared my perspective was a relief. He was someone I could trust.

“Right,” I agreed. “They’re taking a huge risk. If the soccer club finds out, they might hunt for the photographer’s identity in retaliation. If it escalates to violence…”

The vice-principal clutched his head. That was the worst-case scenario. No teacher wanted more students in harm’s way.

“Takayanagi-sensei, any ideas?” the principal asked, his concern genuine. “I don’t want to see more students hurt.”

I shared the thoughts I’d organized while waiting. “Yes. I looked into it earlier. Kondou and Amada skipped the mock exam today, citing illness, and the photo was likely taken then. Whoever leaked this probably has a grudge against Kondou or is close to Aono. I’ve narrowed it down to students who skipped the exam or aren’t in clubs.”

I presented the list of suspects. The photographer was likely among them. Our priority was protecting that student to prevent more young lives from being scarred by this case.