The classroom was still filled with silent stillness.
Everyone pretended to be busy with their own things, acting as if today was just as ordinary as countless other days.
But Shō Tobe’s seat was still empty, and the owner of those belongings would never return.
Hachiman thought that during the afternoon, Teacher Hiratsuka would probably ask someone to pack up Tobe’s things and give them to his parents.
After lunch, Hachiman returned to the classroom, leaned over his desk, closed his eyes, and pretended to fall asleep.
After all, this was the best way to get through the class.
At this moment, he couldn’t help but picture the scene.
Since lunch, he couldn’t stop imagining Tobe alone at home on Saturday night, facing the knife that was being stabbed into him.
He must have struggled and resisted, leaving knife wounds on his hands, his palms pierced, his fist to his mouth, bruises around his eye sockets, and then eight stabs to his back.
For the first time, Hachiman felt that his imagination was too vivid — and that wasn’t a good thing.
The afternoon classes were as long as ever, just with an extra layer of silence.
The teachers’ attitudes toward their class were also somewhat different than before.
Hachiman even paid special attention — the teachers’ eyes instinctively glanced toward Tobe’s seat from time to time.
Occasionally, Hachiman could hear the faint sound of a pen tip gliding across paper behind him.
It was Renji taking notes, genuinely focused on the lesson.
Hachiman felt that this guy was very motivated to study.
Soon, when the school bell rang, Hachiman from the Service Club began packing his backpack.
Suddenly, he noticed that Renji had already stood up, slinging his black bag over his shoulder, and quietly walked out of the classroom.
He didn’t say goodbye to anyone.
Renji’s figure quickly disappeared at the end of the hallway.
Hachiman felt that in some ways, he was very similar to him.
Hachiman suddenly remembered the question Renji had asked him while showing the photo that morning.
“You’re saying… an ordinary high school student — who could have had such a deep grudge against him?”
Hachiman paused while packing his backpack, then continued packing it.
The idea that the crime was committed by someone familiar still didn’t seem very convincing.
He was still leaning toward it being a random killer, and that killer might have good skills, possibly even lock-picking abilities.
On the other side, Renji passed by someone coming down from the rooftop, only glancing briefly before walking around him, since he wasn’t yet on his list.
Renji pushed open the rooftop door.
The evening breeze blew against his face, lifting the hem of his school uniform and carrying the unique chill of late April.
Stepping onto the rooftop, Renji closed the door behind him and walked over to the railing at the edge.
From there, he could see almost the entire campus: the school buildings, the playground, the club building, and the main road lined with cherry trees near the far school gates.
By this time, most of the cherry blossoms had fallen, and the bare branches stretched into the twilight like a simple ink sketch — an excellent vantage point.
The sky above was transitioning from blue to a warm orange-red.
White trails left by several planes stretched across the horizon like knife-cut marks, and the distant city skyline shimmered in the thin dusk haze.
From this spot, Renji could see students leaving the school building in small groups — some heading to the school gates, others toward the club activity hall.
And Renji, who had come up to the rooftop, naturally wasn’t here to enjoy the wind or the view.
Renji’s gaze swept across the railing and stopped at the playground, skipping over the other minor sports clubs and focusing on the rugby and baseball clubs.
Renji’s gaze glided between the figures, quickly locking onto two targets.
Yamato, the baseball club’s pitcher, wasn’t very tall but had broad shoulders.
It was obvious he had built up strength on the pitcher’s mound.
At this moment, he was crouching at the edge of the field, untying his shoelaces and lazily chatting with his teammates nearby.
Ooka, the rugby club’s forward, was a size larger than Yamato, and the muscle lines on his neck and arms were clearly visible under his tight training jersey.
He had just come out of the locker room, carrying a black sports bag over his shoulder.
These two were members of the rugby and baseball clubs, and also members of Hayato Hayama’s current clique.
Renji tapped the iron railing twice with his fingers, and Yukino’s evaluation of these two naturally came to mind.
“Ooka lacks his own position and excessively indulges others. His sense of presence in the group is largely based on leaning on mainstream opinions. Once he loses someone to rely on, he falls into obvious anxiety.”
“Yamato reacts slowly and is indecisive. Of course, he’s not stupid, but he usually avoids thinking for himself, passing decision-making authority to others to avoid the pressure of responsibility.”
Yukino Yukinoshita truly had very useful eyes; her observational and analytical skills were impressive.
Renji planned to see which of them would leave school later, and then decide which one to eliminate directly tonight.
Renji understood that this could significantly intensify the atmosphere of fear.
The second death couldn’t come as late as the first.
Tobe’s death was like a stone thrown into water, causing the first ripple in the class.
But if the ripples didn’t spread before dying down, all his previous preparations would be in vain.
He needed to throw the second stone at the moment when the ripples were about to subside, plunging the class into panic.
This was one of the goals Renji wanted to achieve.
Just like when he had deliberately told Hachiman about the appearance of the Ghostface mask, speaking casually as if discussing a boring urban legend.
But Renji knew the effect would be achieved — unconsciously reinforcing the impression in the listener’s mind.
Of course, on the campus forum, he had posted it with a virtual account, roughly describing the appearance of Ghostface, right under that high-quality uncensored original image of Tobe.
Although the original post had already been deleted, Renji knew that many had seen it, and the seed had already been planted in the hearts of everyone who had seen it.
Fortunately, the wait for these two to finish their club activities wasn’t long.
Renji noticed that the baseball club’s practice on the field was coming to an end.
Several members in white baseball uniforms were packing up equipment, stuffing bats and gloves into their gear bags.
However, on the rugby field, the crowd had dispersed earlier.
Figures in protective gear were coming out of the locker room in small groups, their training jerseys still covered in large patches of sweat.
Yamato from the baseball club stood up, brushed the grass off his pants, put on his baseball cap, and headed toward the school gates.
He walked slowly, looking at his phone.
The image on his back clearly showed he wasn’t in a hurry to get home.
Renji guessed that this guy might need to wander around the streets a bit longer before returning.
In contrast, Ooka was still standing there, chatting with one of his rugby teammates.
Both were gesturing, probably discussing tactical coordination from today’s practice.
Judging by the size of his bag, he probably still needed to go to the locker room for something, meaning he would be the last to leave.
Renji made his decision.
Ooka, this rugby club member, would be his second target for elimination tonight.
Renji didn’t waste time.
With the Death Note in hand, he naturally knew where the other person lived.
He pulled out his phone, opened the photo of the student home address registration forms for the second-year students, and carefully zoomed in on the screen, finding Ooka’s section.
“Room 403, Sunny Garden Apartments, 3-chome, Chiba City.”
Renji’s gaze lingered on room number 403 for a moment, then he raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Living alone now?”
Renji still remembered that in the detailed records of everyone in the class, many were renting alone, and Ooka, one of tonight’s targets, was one of them.
The reason seemed to be that his parents had been transferred for work, but he didn’t want to change schools, so he stayed here renting alone.
Tobe had also lived alone, Yamato lived alone, and even Hina Ebina was listed as living alone in her records.
Of course, for special reasons, he also lived alone.
In this city, a high school student living alone wouldn’t attract anyone’s attention, and no one would find it strange.
Everyone had their own story — who had time to care about others?
But this was good — if the target lived alone, it would also help him take the first step.
Without roommates or family, there was no need to worry about unexpected changes.
Renji could arrange everything at his own pace, without worrying about extra variables.
When the last strip of orange-red on the horizon gradually faded, scattered streetlights lit up in the distance, like someone had thrown glowing chess pieces onto a map.
On the playground, a rugby teammate patted Ooka on the shoulder, turned to leave, and Ooka was left alone by the railing, unzipping his sports bag to check if everything was still there, then zipping it back up.
Then he lifted the bag and slowly headed toward the school gates.
Renji stood on the rooftop, watching his figure walk along the path on the eastern side of the playground, gradually disappearing from sight.
Renji wasn’t in a hurry to act; he already knew where Ooka lived.
He turned away from the edge of the rooftop railing and headed toward the exit.
Renji’s steps were neither fast nor slow, no different from anyone else in this city who was out for an evening stroll on the weekend.
Only the cool breeze remained on the rooftop, sweeping past the empty railing and into the distant city sky, where the lights were gradually beginning to glow.