Part 1 — The Quiet After the Collapse
As the room loosened into low murmurs, Haruto finally let himself lean forward.
He placed his head down on the table, forehead resting against the cool surface.
Amaya turned immediately.
"Haruto… are you fine?" she asked softly.
He didn't lift his head.
"Yes," he replied after a moment. "I'm fine."
There was a pause.
Then, more quietly, "I'm sorry. I stopped you from fighting… and then I got into it myself."
Amaya studied him for a second.
Then she smiled—small, understanding.
"It's fine," she said. "Just… don't get hurt."
She stood and moved away from her seat, giving him space.
Haruto didn't move.
His arm slid forward beneath his head, resting straight along the table. His palm lay open, fingers loose.
Blood covered his palm and fingers.
He didn't react.
Didn't stir.
From where he sat, Haruto looked still—
as if he wasn't awake anymore.
Ayame turned back instinctively.
Haruto was still seated, his head resting against the desk, just as he had been moments ago.
Then her eyes dropped to his hand.
Her breath stopped.
His arm lay stretched beneath his head, palm open on the tabletop.
Blood covered his palm and fingers.
"Haruto…" Ayame whispered.
She reached out and touched his shoulder lightly.
There was no response.
The quiet murmur of the break began to fade as Amaya noticed Ayame standing, frozen. Kaito turned. A few nearby students followed their gaze.
Ayame swallowed and looked toward the front.
"Sensei," she said, her voice steady but tight, "Haruto isn't responding."
Daigo was already walking toward them.
He stopped beside Haruto's desk and took in the scene in a single glance. He didn't touch him. He didn't speak immediately.
"Everyone step back," Daigo said calmly.
Chairs shifted as students moved away.
Daigo watched Haruto's breathing, the position of his arm, the stillness of his body.
Then he straightened.
"Do not move him," he said.
His gaze lifted and fixed on Riku.
"Riku," Daigo said firmly. "Go to the academy clinic. Tell them to send the medical team here immediately."
Riku nodded without a word and ran.
The classroom fell into complete silence.
Whatever had started as a fight had crossed into something else entirely.
The room stayed tense.
Haruki hadn't spoken again—but it showed.
His shoulders were stiff, his jaw tight, eyes fixed on the desk where Haruto lay unmoving. Every few seconds, his gaze dropped to the blood on Haruto's hand, then snapped away.
His breathing wasn't steady.
Misaki broke the silence first. "He wasn't bleeding before."
Souta nodded. "After the fight, he didn't get up."
Haruki swallowed.
"I didn't mean for this," he said quietly. "I don't even know when that happened."
No anger in his voice.
Just strain.
Yuna looked at him, expression unreadable. "That doesn't change what we're seeing."
Haruki's hands clenched slowly at his sides.
Blood wasn't something you argued against.
It meant reports.
Questions.
People drawing conclusions before answers existed.
Daigo raised his hand.
The class stopped immediately.
"This is not a debate," Daigo said evenly.
His gaze rested on Haruki—not accusing, but assessing.
"Remain seated."
Haruki nodded at once.
Too quickly.
His leg bounced under the desk, nerves finally breaking through his earlier bravado. He looked around the room, then back at Haruto—panic flickering behind his eyes.
Daigo turned slightly.
"Arashi."
Arashi straightened.
"Check Haruki's bag."
Haruki's breath caught.
He didn't protest this time.
He just watched.
Arashi opened the bag and paused.
Inside, among the usual supplies, lay a kunai.
The sight of it drew a sharp silence from the room.
Haruki's shoulders tensed.
"I won that," he said immediately. "At a village event. It's been in there since."
His voice wasn't defensive.
It was careful.
"I didn't take it out," he added. "I didn't use anything."
Raizo stepped forward before the tension could thicken further.
"Sensei," he said firmly. "Haruki fights. He pushes people. But he's not reckless with things like this."
Haruki nodded once, jaw tight.
Daigo listened.
He didn't respond right away.
His eyes shifted back to Haruto.
"Wait," Daigo said.
The word settled over the room.
The answers would come soon enough.
Haruto didn't wake.
The medical team worked around him carefully, movements practiced and quiet. One of them gently lifted the fabric at his side, just enough to see the source.
"Here," the medic murmured.
They didn't announce it.
They didn't explain it to the room.
They wrapped a bandage firmly around his stomach, layer by layer, secure but careful not to disturb him. Haruto remained still, breathing steady, unaware.
Another medic took his hand.
Slowly, they cleaned his palm and fingers, wiping away every trace of blood until his skin was clean again. His hand was placed back on the desk, relaxed, harmless-looking.
Nothing alarming left in sight.
Daigo watched once.
Then turned back to the board.
"You may continue," he said quietly.
The medical team stepped away, leaving Haruto exactly where he was—bandaged, stable, asleep.
Daigo picked up the chalk.
"Control," he said, resuming as if the interruption had never happened, "is also knowing when the body has already decided for you."
Chalk moved.
Pens followed.
The lesson continued.
Chalk moved across the board, steady and measured, as if nothing unusual had happened.
Daigo's voice stayed calm, controlled—exactly as he had been teaching.
Haruto remained asleep at his desk.
His breathing was slow. Even.
The bandage beneath his uniform was hidden from view.
No one spoke about it.
Some students kept glancing his way.
Others stared straight ahead, pretending not to notice.
When the final point was written, Daigo placed the chalk down.
"That's all for today," he said. "You're dismissed."
Chairs slid back.
Class 1 stood.
Haruto didn't move.
Daigo's eyes flicked toward him once before turning back to the class.
"Go."
The students filed out—quietly this time.
Ayame stopped near Haruto's desk and gently shook his shoulder.
"Haruto… class is over."
Kaito stood beside her, arms folded. "Hey. Wake up."
After a moment, Haruto stirred. He lifted his head slowly, eyes unfocused, then pushed himself upright.
"I'm fine," he muttered.
They waited until he was steady, then helped him to his feet.