Chapter 3
The door clicked open.
Akira Kurose stepped inside, holding a small plastic bag of food. His expression was calm, unreadable as always—but his sharp eyes immediately landed on Renji.
Renji stood in the middle of the room.
Frozen.
"…You're back in the living room," Akira said quietly.
Renji forced a laugh. "Y-Yeah… I was just walking around."
Silence filled the space between them.
Akira walked past him without another word. His footsteps were slow, steady… controlled.
"…You look pale," he added.
"I-It's nothing. Just hungry."
Akira paused for a brief moment… then continued walking.
---
They sat together and began eating.
The room felt heavier than before. Every small sound—the rustling of the bag, the clink of chopsticks—echoed unnaturally.
Renji tried to act normal. "This smells really good…"
"…Renji."
His hand froze.
"If you had a secret…" Akira said, lifting his eyes slowly toward him, "…would you tell me?"
Renji's throat went dry. "W-What kind of question is that?"
"Just answer."
"…Of course I would."
Akira stared at him for a few seconds.
Then, a faint smile appeared.
"…Good."
---
The next morning—
The classroom buzzed with noise as students settled into their seats. Sunlight streamed through the windows, giving the room a warm, ordinary feeling.
A complete contrast to the tension from the night before.
Akira sat quietly, staring out the window.
"Good morning, Akira."
A soft voice pulled him back.
He turned slightly.
Yuki Asahina stood beside his desk, her gentle expression carrying a hint of concern.
"…Morning," Akira replied.
She tilted her head. "You seem tired again. Didn't sleep well?"
"…Just the same dream."
Her expression softened. "Still…?"
Akira looked away. "Yeah."
There was a brief silence between them.
Then Yuki smiled lightly. "You should take care of yourself more. You can't solve everything alone, you know."
Akira didn't respond immediately.
For a moment, his usually cold gaze softened—just slightly.
"…I'm fine," he said quietly.
But he didn't sound completely convincing.
From the corner of the room, Renji watched them.
His expression was uneasy.
---
Break time arrived.
Renji approached Akira quickly.
"Hey… can we talk?"
Akira looked at him. "…About what?"
"…Nothing. Just—forget it."
Akira's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…You're acting strange."
Renji forced a smile. "You're imagining things."
Akira said nothing.
But he kept watching.
---
That night—
The house was silent.
Renji lay on the bed, pretending to sleep. His breathing was slow… controlled.
But his mind was racing.
That room… those prisoners…
What is Akira hiding…?
---
A soft click echoed.
Renji's eyes almost opened—but he stopped himself.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Calm.
Akira.
---
Akira stood near the bookshelf.
Without hesitation, he pressed the hidden switch.
Click.
The door opened.
He stepped inside.
---
The underground tunnel was quiet, illuminated by dim lights.
At the end, the hidden room waited.
Akira opened the door.
Inside—
The prisoners were still there.
Weak. Broken. Desperate.
They turned toward him instantly.
"Please… let us go…"
"I'm not a killer…"
"Help me…"
Their voices overlapped, filled with desperation.
Akira stared at them.
Cold. Unmoved.
"…Lies."
The room fell silent.
He stepped forward.
"Every one of you said the same thing during interrogation."
No one spoke.
"But your stories don't match."
A man in the corner began to sweat.
Akira's eyes sharpened.
"Which means… one of you is telling the truth."
He turned away slowly.
"And the rest…"
A pause.
"…are liars."
---
He walked back through the tunnel.
His expression didn't change.
"Renji saw it," he thought.
A small pause.
"But he lied."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"…Why?"
---
Back in the room—
Renji remained still, pretending to sleep.
Akira stood beside him.
"…Renji."
No response.
Akira leaned slightly closer.
"If you're lying to me…"
Silence
"…I'll find out."
Renji's finger twitched slightly under the blanket.
But he didn't move.
---
Akira straightened and walked toward the window.
The city lights flickered in the distance.
For a moment, his reflection appeared in the glass—
Calm.
Cold.
Alone.
"In a world full of lies…"
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"…even friends can't be trusted."