The night felt longer than usual.
Not because of the distance.
But because of the weight in his chest.
Ruko walked alone beneath flickering streetlights, their dim glow stretching his shadow across the pavement. The sounds of the city had faded into a distant hum—cars passing far away, faint laughter from somewhere unseen.
Everything else was quiet.
Too quiet.
"…If you can figure out who I am… by the time we graduate…"
His steps slowed.
"…I'll answer everything."
Ruko exhaled sharply.
"…You really haven't changed."
He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the ground as fragments of the past surfaced uninvited.
Late nights.
Endless matches.
A username glowing on his screen.
Mitsuru.
"…Do you remember?" he muttered softly.
The way she used to type fast—always one step ahead in conversations.
The way she'd call out plays before they even happened.
The way she laughed—
Short. Quiet. Almost teasing.
"You always said I overextended," Ruko murmured, a faint smirk forming.
"…Said I relied too much on instinct."
His smile faded.
"…But you still stayed."
They played every night.
Win or lose.
Didn't matter.
"You said it was fun."
His voice lowered.
"…So why did you disappear?"
Silence answered him.
Ruko stopped walking.
"…And now you're here."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Right in front of me."
A pause.
"…But your voice…"
That whisper in the storage room.
It echoed again in his mind.
Soft.
Careful.
Almost restrained.
"…It didn't match."
Kazuha's calm tone.
Risa's measured speech.
Kana's bright energy.
Hikari's sharp edge.
"…None of them sound like that."
Ruko tilted his head slightly, thinking.
"…Which means…"
A faint realization settled in.
"She's hiding it."
Lowering it.
Softening it.
Changing it just enough to avoid suspicion.
"…You're really going this far…"
A small, almost amused breath escaped him.
"…Fine."
His gaze sharpened.
"If this is a game—"
"…Then I'll play."
The next morning came too quickly.
The classroom buzzed with noise—students chatting, chairs scraping, papers rustling.
Ruko sat by the window, his chin resting lightly against his hand as he stared outside.
Unfocused.
"…Oi, Ruko."
He didn't respond.
"…Ruko."
A book lightly tapped his desk.
He blinked.
"…You alive?" Kana asked, leaning slightly over from behind.
"…Barely," he muttered.
"Wow, how tragic," she said dryly. "Did your 2D wife leave you or something?"
"…She would never."
Kana snorted. "You're hopeless."
Risa glanced over from her seat. "You've been distracted since yesterday."
"…Have I?"
"Yes," she replied simply.
Kazuha turned slightly in her seat, watching him.
"…Did something happen?"
Ruko looked at her for a moment—
Then looked away.
"…Nothing."
Hikari, seated near the window on the other side, didn't even look up from her phone.
"…If you're going to be useless, at least don't drag the team down."
Ruko clicked his tongue.
"…Relax. I'll carry you."
"…Try it," she replied flatly.
The bell rang.
Classes passed in a blur.
And before long—
They were back in the clubroom.
Ruko didn't waste time.
"I have a question."
The room quieted.
"…What is it?" Risa asked.
Ruko leaned slightly against a desk, arms crossed.
"Do you know how to play a hero called I:B?"
The reaction was immediate.
"…You're joking, right?" Kana said.
Hikari scoffed. "That hero's a nightmare."
Risa nodded. "High mechanical demand. Extremely unforgiving."
Kazuha frowned slightly. "…It's not viable unless mastered."
Ruko said nothing.
But inside—
Exactly.
Because that hero—
Was Mitsuru's.
Her signature.
A dual-form character.
One that demanded precision.
Base form—control and poke.
Careful.
Measured.
Then—
Once the conditions were met—
A shift.
Second form.
An assassin.
Fast.
Relentless.
Deadly.
Mitsuru never missed that timing.
"…Let's try it," Ruko said.
"…Huh?" Kana blinked.
"All of you."
"…Why?" Hikari asked, finally looking at him.
"It could be a valuable asset to the team if someone knows how to play it"
Suspicion filled the room.
"…This better not be a joke," Kana muttered.
"That hero is the definition of high ceiling" Hikari pointed glaring at Ruko
"It's not."
A pause.
Then—
Reluctantly—
They agreed.
The match began.
Ruko didn't sit.
Didn't move.
He watched.
Kana—
Forced fights too early.
Didn't build stacks properly.
Risa—
Too cautious.
Delayed her transitions.
Hikari—
Skipped setup entirely.
Tried to brute force it.
Then—
Kazuha.
Ruko's eyes narrowed.
Missed skill.
Late reaction.
Poor positioning.
"…She can't even reach second form consistently."
The gap was obvious.
The match ended in defeat.
"…Told you," Kana sighed.
But Ruko didn't respond.
Instead—
"Show me your stats."
"…Seriously?" Kana groaned.
"Yes."
One by one—
They complied.
Ruko checked each account.
Kana.
44%.
Risa.
45%.
Hikari.
42%.
Then—
Kazuha.
"…32%."
Ruko stared at the number for a moment longer than necessary.
"…So it's not her."
Or—
"She's hiding it perfectly."
He stepped back.
"…Forget it."
"…What?" Kana frowned.
"We'll continue normal practice."
No explanation.
No clarification.
Just that.
The rest of the session passed with standard matches.
Wins.
Losses.
Adjustments.
But Ruko's mind never left.
Watching.
Listening.
Searching.
For her.
Later—
The sky had darkened.
The clubroom emptied one by one.
"See you tomorrow," Kana said, stretching.
Risa nodded quietly.
Kazuha lingered slightly. "…Don't overthink things we still have other heroes to try out."
"You've been stress a lot lately"
Ruko didn't respond and just nodded.
Hikari left without a word.
Soon—
The room was empty.
Silent.
Still.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
"…Hey."
A voice broke the quiet.
"…Why did you lie to Ruko earlier?"
Another voice.
Calm.
But probing.
"I'm not going to ask for details…"
A pause.
"…But I've seen you play I:B."
Silence.
Then—
"…Who knows…"
A softer voice replied.
"…I'm just probably guilty of using her freely"
The room fell silent once more.
And somewhere—
Unseen.
The game continued.