The deaths of two people in consecutive schools didn’t cause much of a stir — everything went on as usual.
Hachiman passed through the school gates and entered the school building.
In front of the shoe lockers, several people were already changing into their indoor shoes.
As he bent down to open his shoe locker, he heard the voices of two underclassmen girls talking behind him.
“Did you hear? They said there was another upperclassman in the second-year class who died.”
“Wait, really?” Which class are they in?
“I think it’s Class F, the same one as last time, with Tobe…”
“Oh my god, isn’t that two in a row?”
“Shh, keep your voice down.”
Hachiman closed his shoe locker and changed into his indoor shoes without looking back at the girls.
The door to Class 2-F was open, apparently because the previous person who entered hadn’t closed it properly.
Before entering, Hachiman stood at the door and glanced around the classroom with a sidelong look.
This habit had developed recently.
Ever since he learned about Tobe’s situation, he instinctively scanned the room every time he entered or left the class, as if peering into a cave where bears might be hiding.
At this moment, the scene in the classroom was almost exactly as he expected, but the atmosphere was even heavier than yesterday.
No one was joking or laughing; most people sat quietly in their seats, barely speaking, or lowered their voices as if afraid that a word spoken too loudly might disturb someone.
“I feel like I didn’t come to school, but to a funeral.”
Hachiman thought, feeling the atmosphere in the classroom.
The air in the classroom was even more stifling than last time.
On Monday after Tobe’s death, the atmosphere had been strange — sudden discomfort and confusion after the disruption of routine.
But today’s atmosphere was different; today it was genuine fear.
When the first victim appeared, it could be dismissed as an accident, and he could tell himself that perhaps Tobe had just been unlucky and run into some bad person.
But when the second victim, Ooka, appeared, the word “accident” became hard to say.
It made you wonder if it wasn’t just a coincidence — someone was deliberately killing people from the class with a plan and a purpose.
Sitting down in his seat, Hachiman surveyed the territory of the popular group on the other side — the area centered around Hayato Hayama.
By this time, Hayama had already arrived, sitting in his seat with his head down, his hands folded on the desk.
From Hachiman’s angle, he could only see his profile.
His usually neatly styled blonde hair now looked a bit disheveled, probably from running his fingers through it repeatedly.
Hayama’s lips were pressed into a thin line, the corners slightly downturned, and the signature sunny smile he usually wore was gone.
Yumiko Miura, who sat next to Hayama, wasn’t in her seat yet — probably not here — but Hachiman remembered what Komachi had told him before leaving today.
Yumiko Miura might also take a leave of absence today, and Shizuka Hiratsuka would most likely agree, given the current situation.
Moreover, Hachiman noticed something very peculiar: there were several empty seats next to Hayama.
Even the people who usually gathered around him today seemed to be consciously keeping their distance.
“Afraid? Afraid that those too close to the center might become the next target?”
“That way of thinking is indeed logical. After all, their deaths are connected to Hayama, so it’s normal for them to overthink things.”
Looking at the somewhat worn-out Hayama, Hachiman thought that those people in his class — or even in the school — who loved to blindly follow trends might think the same way.
But Hachiman thought this was completely unreasonable.
Who would be bored enough to look at the people around Hayama?
“And that guy wouldn’t blame himself, would he?”
When Hachiman arrived, Renji was usually already sitting there, looking at his phone.
He hadn’t come today, probably because he was delayed on the way.
Hachiman sat down in his chair, took a textbook out of his backpack, and placed it on the desk, then pulled out his phone and reopened the chat window with Renji.
The cursor was still blinking.
He hesitated for a few seconds, then typed a line and sent it.
“Did you watch the news?”
About three minutes later, his phone vibrated, and a notification came in — it was Renji.
“I saw it. You were right.”
“What is this? Male intuition?”
Renji was different from Hachiman; he needed to take the train.
As soon as he entered the campus, Renji received a message from Hachiman.
At this moment, Renji felt very pleased.
He wanted to save Hachiman for the last moment and kill him, to see if he could uncover the truth or what expression he would have when, before dying, he learned that he was the one responsible for everything.
Hachiman looked at Renji’s message, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly — not quite a smile, not quite a sigh, but a subtle expression somewhere in between.
“Who do you think will be next?”
Renji looked at the message from Hachiman.
If you asked the killer who they thought would be next, what did that mean?
Ordering takeout?
Renji felt like a real party pooper, though of course, he couldn’t directly reveal any key clues.
Renji was going to give him a little inspiration to see where Hachiman would eventually be able to guess.
After last night’s deliberations, Renji had already changed some of his thoughts.
He wanted to see how, with just a little inspiration, the main cast would eventually find him, and what indescribable expressions they would have when he stabbed them in the back.
With that in mind, Renji quickly began typing on his phone.
“Ooka is Ooka, and Tobe is Tobe. You need to think about what they have in common.”
“In common?”
Hachiman looked at Renji’s message.
The only thing he could know was that both of them were members of Hayama’s small group at the scene.
So, if following Renji’s explanation, that was why these people were now distancing themselves from Hayama.
“A friend of Hayato Hayama.”
Renji looked at the message sent by Hachiman and had already reached the foot of the school building.
“Didn’t you notice that the phrase ‘living alone’ was mentioned in the news?”
Hachiman looked at Renji’s message, his pupils slightly contracting, and quickly switched to searching for news about Tobe and Ooka.