---
The school was eerily quiet that morning. The sun had barely risen when Akira and Hinata stepped inside the gate, side by side but silent — not a word exchanged. The cool breeze brushed past them, and Hinata, confused, finally broke the silence.
"Why is the school so empty?" she asked, glancing around.
Akira looked at her and shrugged. "I think we just reached too early."
"Hmm... should we roam around a bit?"
Akira didn't reply. He simply smiled — a quiet, mysterious curve of his lips. Hinata took that as a yes.
They began to stroll aimlessly through the empty corridors. Akira walked with his hands in his pockets, while Hinata walked a little behind, her hands clasped behind her back. The silence between them was comfortable — until the peace was interrupted.
A boy with square, transparent glasses turned the corner and accidentally bumped into Akira, falling with a thud.
"S-sorry," the boy stammered without making eye contact, then darted toward the school gate and disappeared.
Hinata blinked. "What... just happened?"
Akira instinctively checked his pocket. His money was gone. But he said nothing.
As they turned to go to their classroom, a commanding voice echoed behind them. "Stop right there!"
It was Herry-senpai, the PE teacher and the school's self-proclaimed "Cleanliness In-Charge."
"Akira, since you were absent yesterday, you're on cleaning duty today. No excuses. I want your class spotless!"
Before they could respond, he sprinted off like a superhero without a cape.
Akira turned to Hinata with a dull expression. She giggled.
Class dragged on. To Akira, it was torture. Words blurred into background noise, and before he knew it, he'd dozed off. When he finally woke, the bell had already rung — and Hinata stood before him, bathed in the golden hue of sunset, looking almost ethereal.
"Akira... today, you'll have to return alone."
Akira nodded. "You can go. I'll come later."
Soon, the classroom emptied. Akira stayed behind, quietly fulfilling his cleaning duty. He wiped the green board slowly, then gazed at the clock above it. 5:54 PM. The setting sun and the ticking clock seemed like his only company in a world that never waited.
He stepped outside into the darkness, walking home in silence — until he heard a scream from a narrow alley.
His body froze. Then he moved toward the sound.
Three figures stood there. Two men — one fat and short-haired, the other bald — were assaulting a young girl with a short brown ponytail. Her hair was messy, her eyes filled with tears.
"Get lost, kid! We ain't sharing," the fat man snarled.
Akira looked at them for a moment. Then he turned away.
"Please!" the girl cried. "Help me! Don't leave me like this!"
The men laughed.
Moments later, Akira returned — holding a rusty screwdriver.
"I'm Akira," he said coldly.
The fat man charged forward — only for Akira to jam the screwdriver into his groin with brutal force. The man collapsed, screaming, until Akira shoved a garbage can lid into his mouth and crushed it down with his foot until the screams stopped.
The bald man tried to run — naked and terrified — but Akira hurled the same lid at him. He tripped and fell hard.
Without a word, Akira handed the screwdriver to the girl. "Kill him."
She trembled, then approached. The bald man pleaded, "Please, don't—!"
But it was too late. She stabbed him again and again until his neck became a canvas of blood.
Crying, she stumbled into Akira's arms. "Thank you... for saving me..."
Akira pushed her away gently. "No. It was just coincidence."
He turned to leave. Then paused. "I only killed one old man today. That was boring."
"What...?" the girl asked, confused and frightened.
Akira smiled — that same quiet, mysterious smile. Then, in a flash, he split her face in two.
"No clue required," he whispered.
---