Ayanokoji walked on the path returning to the dorms, the warm summer night breeze brushing past his cheeks.
But his inner world was deeper and more focused than this night scenery.
Fragments of scenes related to Subaru replayed repeatedly in his mind.
The public exposure of Kushida, the collapse of Ryuen and his class.
And the so-called 'color'.
"Color..."
Ayanokoji silently repeated this word in his heart.
Neither the rules of this school nor the logic of survival and competition instilled by the White Room could explain the core of Subaru's behavior.
He wasn't doing it for points, not for status, and seemingly not even for the sense of control brought by victory.
It was only for 'color'.
Although Ayanokoji had told Chabashira his thoughts, even he couldn't be entirely sure what the 'color' Subaru spoke of referred to.
Is it the color a person's heart reflects in an extreme environment?
Or is it...
The color of the soul itself?
Ayanokoji didn't know, and he thought he wouldn't know.
This posture of an observer, pure to the point of being nearly paranoid, was a type Ayanokoji had never encountered before.
The White Room cultivated manipulators; they either achieved goals efficiently or controlled situations with precision.
They didn't care about the process, only the result.
Subaru, however, was more like an artist or a scientist. The experiment itself was the goal; the result was merely a byproduct.
"Unpredictable..."
Ayanokoji evaluated calmly.
Precisely because Subaru's logic of action was built on such abstract and personal motives, conventional benefit analysis or behavioral models couldn't be used to accurately predict his next move.
He might suddenly take an interest in someone and apply pressure; or he might completely ignore them because he found them boring.
This uncertainty itself was a massive variable.
However, it was precisely this variable nature, this way of existence that completely jumped out of the framework...
Ayanokoji's footsteps slowed imperceptibly for an instant.
In the depths of his heart—a lake that usually operated constantly like a precision instrument, lacking spontaneous emotional fluctuations—a small, hard stone seemed to have been thrown in.
It wasn't fear, it wasn't vigilance, nor was it a desire to win.
It was a kind of... unprecedented curiosity.
Ayanokoji believed he shouldn't have been able to generate such an emotion.
He wanted to know: what kind of world did those eyes of Subaru's actually see?
What kind of spectacle were those so-called 'colors' in his eyes?
If he himself were placed in an extreme situation set up by Subaru, watched and pressured by those eyes, then... what kind of color would he reveal?
Would it be like now, a calm that was nearly colorless?
Or... would some other things, things even he didn't know of, be forced out?
This curiosity was a useless thing that had been thoroughly strangled in the environment of the White Room, which was filled with absolute control and purposeful training.
But here, in this campus that seemed free but was actually equally full of rules, facing an existence like Subaru who couldn't be fitted into any existing template, this curiosity had actually spawned silently.
Following it came a more unfamiliar, more subtle... expectation.
Expectation for the deepening of observation, expectation for the revelation of the riddle, and even... expectation for some form of confrontation.
Not an opposition based on hatred or interest, but a collision and verification between two completely different ways of existence, nearly at the level of philosophy.
He wanted to know: was the path of concealment he learned from the White Room—blending into the environment, rational calculation, pursuing steady victory—closer to some kind of truth?
Or was Subaru's naked, explicit experiment of finding pleasure in observing the extremes of human nature more in touch with the essence?
"Duel..."
This word surfaced in his mind, carrying no killing intent, but holding a cold, probing significance.
Chabashira's request might just be an opportunity.
Even without her, Ayanokoji realized that sooner or later, he would have taken the initiative to focus his gaze on Subaru.
This anomaly held an indescribable attraction for him, a 'White Room Masterpiece' seeking to verify the meaning of his own existence.
He raised his head, looking toward the direction of the boys' dormitory.
Subaru's room was right there.
Summer vacation had begun, and time had become abundant.
Perhaps it was time to start more active observation, or even...
Make some preparations for the verification that might happen in the future.
In the depths of Ayanokoji's eyes, beneath that perennial plainness, a strictly weak, rational flame seemed to be ignited.
This wasn't an emotion, but a highly focused interest and sense of purpose.
For the first time, toward a certain person, he generated a complex mood named 'expectation'.
...
Meanwhile, on a relatively secluded bench on the other side of the campus, a figure was moving with difficulty.
Kakeru Ryuen.
The wounds on his face had scabbed over, but the listlessness and emptiness radiating from his bones were more shocking than any external injury.
He had been practically asked to leave the medical area by the school staff. At this moment, alone, he wandered aimlessly, like an empty shell whose soul had been extracted.
"Ryuen-kun."
A familiar voice, yet one that caused him instinctive revulsion, rang out.
Kushida walked out from the shadows, a gentle expression hanging on her face that was incompatible with the current environment—a smile that looked the same as usual.
But in the depths of her eyes, calculation and a trace of anxiety flickered without concealment.
Ryuen's eyeballs rotated slowly, glancing at her once before quickly moving away. A vague grumble issued from his throat, seeming like disgust, yet also like he simply couldn't be bothered to pay attention.
This trash.
Kushida suppressed the impatience and disdain in her heart. She stepped a few paces closer, her voice lowered, carrying a tone of seduction:
"Ryuen-kun, are you willing to just let it end like this? Being stepped on like trash by Subaru, having everything of yours destroyed, and then dazing out here like a stray dog?"
Ryuen's body trembled imperceptibly, but he still didn't have much of a reaction, merely speaking flatly:
"Did you ask to meet me here just to say this kind of stuff? You really are a boring woman."
"I know you hate him."
Kushida continued speaking, her tone accelerating.
"I hate him too! He ruined my life, made me lose my reputation in the class! We are the same, both destroyed by him! Ryuen-kun, don't you want revenge? You used to be the King of Class C! Do you not have even a little... thought of wanting to seize everything back and make him pay the price?"
She tried to stimulate Ryuen's remaining pride and violence.
This was part of her plan—finding allies. Especially someone like Ryuen, who held the most direct, deepest hatred toward Subaru, and who once possessed power and means.
Even if he looked useless now, as long as there was a spark left, perhaps he could be utilized.
The reason Kushida met with Ryuen was that she wanted to use him to deal with Subaru again.
Although he failed last time, Kushida wanted to stand up again.
Ryuen finally had a bit of a reaction.
He slowly raised his head, those deep eyes looking at Kushida.
The corners of his mouth twitched, seeming to want to smile, but only emitting a wheezing, leaking sound.
"...Revenge?"
His voice was terribly hoarse, almost hard to distinguish.
"You... who do you think... you are?"
Kushida paused.
There was no sign of being persuaded in Ryuen's eyes, only deeper numbness and a kind of... mocking as if he had seen through her.
"You... are also worthy?"
He spoke intermittently, every word seeming to use up all his strength.
"You're nothing but a poor wretch acting while wearing a mask. Once he casually tore off your fake face, you could only act like a rat, firing useless cold arrows from the dark."
His words showed no mercy, poking directly at Kushida's sore spot and essence.
"What do you understand?!"
Kushida was enraged. The disguised gentleness shattered instantly, a hideous look surfacing on her face, her features almost twisting together.
"At least I am taking action! I am thinking of ways to make him suffer! And you, Ryuen, you are now just a piece of trash who can't even stand steadily! Do you not even have the strength to hate anymore?!"
"...Hate?"
Ryuen murmured, repeating it. His voice was still hoarse, but deep within that numbness, something extremely weak yet abnormally hard seemed to be slowly pulsating.
He raised his head. This time it was no longer a scattered gaze, but one condensing a cold light like a blade edge, stabbing toward Kushida.
"Of course I hate."
His voice remained intermittent, yet it held a trace more power. It wasn't the trembling of pure fear, but a low roar suppressing boiling magma.
"I hate until the seams of my bones itch. I hate until every night when I close my eyes, it's as if I see his eyes."
He gasped violently for a few breaths, his chest heaving intensely, as if merely speaking these words tore open wounds that hadn't yet healed.
The moment he thought of Subaru's name, Ryuen felt a slight pain in his neck.
As if he were being strangled to death by someone.
But this time, he didn't curl up. Instead, he stared fixedly at Kushida with those bloodshot eyes.
"But, Kushida, hate... is not like your... crashing around like a headless fly, or hiding in a corner spreading painless rumors."
His words were full of disdain and a nearly cruel clarity.
"You ask me if I have the strength to hate? I do. But my strength isn't used to play this kind of 'revenge game' of playing house with you."
Kushida turned pale from being stabbed by his suddenly shifted aura and blunt contempt. But what startled her even more was that thing in Ryuen's eyes that hadn't completely extinguished—
That wasn't pure madness, but a kind of... darker, quieter determination, as if recrystallizing within the ashes.
"You... what do you mean?"
She subconsciously took a half-step back.
"What do I mean?"
Ryuen pulled out an ugly yet sharp smile.
"It means that you, Kikyo Kushida, are already valueless to me."
He slowly sat up a bit straighter. Although his movements were still stiff, that aura belonging to a tyrant seemed to have returned a little.
"You were stripped of your mask by Subaru in public. In Class D—oh, it's Class C now—you are already notorious, your trust bankrupt. Whatever you do now carries its own suspicion. Nagumo might give you some small favors, but a person like him will only treat you as a disposable pawn, throwing you away after use. You coming to find me now is nothing more than wanting to find a fellow sufferer as an ally, or wanting to exploit that little bit of remaining notoriety and interest I have left."
His analysis was cold and precise, peeling away all of Kushida's whitewashed motives.
"But you got two points wrong. First, this state of mine... in your eyes, I'm trash, but in the eyes of some people, perhaps I happen to be the dead man who needs guarding against the least. Second..."
Ryuen's eyes became even deeper, as if recalling those words Subaru had said to him at the end.
"I want to rely on my own power to kill my way back."
He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white from the force.
"Crawl back... using my own way. Not relying on huddling together for warmth with a fellow cripple like you, not relying on those shady tricks that can't be shown on stage—he's probably long tired of seeing those things, perhaps even happy to see them happen. What he wants to see are more interesting things. Just your level is far from enough."
Ryuen's gaze swept over Kushida's face, twisted by anger and the failure of her plan, his tone becoming even colder:
"And you, Kushida, you've already been marked by him. Your hatred, your petty moves, are very likely all within his expectations or even expectations he holds. Cooperating with you won't get me the power I want; instead, it will expose me under his eyelids ahead of time, affecting my plan."
He paused, his voice lowering, carrying the resolve of a lone wolf:
"I want to crawl back. I want to let him see my color. Even if it's a darker, more twisted color, that must be my own path, using my, Kakeru Ryuen's, way. Not being dragged into that pool of muddy water by you to sink together."
"Are you crazy?"
"So—"
Ryuen ignored her words and said finally, his tone definitive.
"Your 'cooperation', I refuse. Get lost. Don't come looking for me again. You have your rat hole, I have my plan. Kushida, you are just a boring woman now."
Having finished speaking, he no longer looked at Kushida, casting his gaze back toward the heavy darkness in the distance, as if only there lay the things he needed to face.
That fear still existed, planted deep in his marrow.
But within the fear, something colder, more stubborn, a mixture of humiliation, unwillingness, and a forcibly injected twisted fighting spirit, was slowly breeding.
Kushida froze in place, the expression on her face going from anger to astonishment, then to absolute ice.
She looked at Ryuen's posture of judging her with a sense of superiority, and the hatred in her heart spread madly like poison ivy.
Not only hating Subaru, hating Horikita, hating everyone in Class C...
Now, Ryuen was also one of them.
"Just go find a place to rot by yourself!"
After leaving one sentence behind, Kushida left directly. She took out her terminal and dialed a certain number.
...
Meanwhile, in the nearly empty administration building, Student Council Office.
Miyabi Nagumo was looking at the boy before him with a smile—
"Natsuki, you finally came to find me."
Subaru sat expressionlessly in the seat opposite him.
____
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