The soft hum of the private jet's turbines filled the opulent cabin, where every detail exuded understated elegance.
Yuki sat in a white leather seat, a cashmere throw draped casually over her lap. In her hands, a sleek tablet held her full attention.
The screen displayed a chilling headline accompanied by grainy photos: "Neighborhood Devastated: Entire Population Found Massacred in Horrific Circumstances."
A flight attendant appeared, discreet and poised, carrying a silver tray with a glass of amber whiskey. Yuki accepted it with a brief but courteous nod. She raised the glass to her lips, sipping slowly, her eyes never leaving the grim images flashing across the screen.
"My dear Geto…" she murmured, her voice soft but edged with menace. "You shouldn't have."
With a sharp tap, she powered off the tablet and placed it carefully on the small table in front of her. Then she turned her gaze to the window, staring out into an unchanging sky.
The quiet whoosh of a sliding door broke her trance. The pilot stepped in, his uniform immaculate.
"Madam Tsukumo, everything is ready for takeoff. Just give us the green light."
She looked up at him, her expression calm but commanding, and nodded once.
"Proceed."
As the pilot exited, Yuki's attention returned to the world beyond the glass. A faint sigh escaped her lips.
The world kept spinning, but what she saw through that window was the promise of chaos looming on the horizon.
---
In a spacious office, Utahime sat at a desk, her focus fixed on a desktop monitor displaying an ongoing video conference. Principal Yaga's stern face occupied most of the screen.
Masamichi Yaga, clearly irritated, spoke with a sharp edge in his tone. "It's a bold move for Yoshinobu to refuse a face-to-face meeting with me."
Sensing the rising tension, Utahime quickly intervened. "The Principal is handling urgent matters, Masamichi, and may I remind you—you called without prior notice."
Masamichi exhaled deeply, his features softening, though only slightly. "Fine," he muttered, ready to proceed when the office door burst open, drawing Utahime's attention.
It was the elder Yoshinobu. He strode in with authority, his piercing gaze sweeping the room before landing squarely on Utahime.
"I thought I told you to cancel this call," he said firmly.
On the other side of the screen, Masamichi's simmering temper finally boiled over. "Still bitter about losing at the inter-school games, Yoshinobu?"
Unfazed, Yoshinobu advanced toward the desk. Utahime hastily rose from her seat, stepping aside as he lowered himself into the chair. He adjusted his position, his gaze locking onto the camera with cold precision.
"If you don't have something worthwhile to say, Masamichi, I'm hanging up. Unlike you, I have actual responsibilities."
Utahime lingered near the back of the room, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she prayed the situation wouldn't spiral further. She was all too aware of the fraught history between these two men, riddled with old rivalries and cutthroat competitions.
The silence that followed Yoshinobu's words felt suffocating, stretching unbearably long.
On the other end, Masamichi drew a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come.
"Fine," Masamichi finally said, his voice calmer now but still tinged with frustration. "Let's talk about what really matters."
Yoshinobu nodded, a faint smile of satisfaction curling his lips.
"I'm listening."
After a brief pause, Masamichi cleared his throat and locked eyes with Yoshinobu through the camera.
"Yoshinobu, I have a question for you," he said, his tone measured but probing. "Did you recently admit a student to your school? Someone… unusual?"
Yoshinobu raised an eyebrow, his face unreadable. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers lacing together in front of him.
"That happens often, as you know, in a school like mine. Perhaps you'd care to clarify, Masamichi. What do you mean by 'unusual'?"
Masamichi pressed his lips together, visibly irritated by Yoshinobu's composed demeanor.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He paused, visibly restraining his growing annoyance. "This boy… there's something about him—a potential danger. I'm not here to dance around the issue: we suspect he might be the anomaly."
Yoshinobu didn't flinch. He swallowed subtly, his expression remaining as impenetrable as stone.
"And if I did accept him?" he finally said. "What business is it of yours, Masamichi? My school isn't under your jurisdiction. I handle things my way."
Masamichi shook his head, exasperation flashing in his eyes.
"Drop the act, Yoshinobu. You know as well as I do that things are escalating. The frequency of high-grade plagues has surged alarmingly these past months. That's not a coincidence, and we both know there's a source behind it. If this boy is connected to this disruption, we need answers before it's too late."
Yoshinobu allowed a faint, sardonic smile to appear, but it held no warmth.
"And you think blaming a teenager for such chaos is the solution? If that's your grand theory, Masamichi, you're wasting your time."
"Yoshinobu!" Masamichi snapped, his expression hardening. "You know it's not just a coincidence. This boy is suspected to be at the center of this anomaly. He might even be the cause! If that's true, you need to be ready. And you'd better start by listening to me."
For the briefest moment, something flickered in Yoshinobu's eyes, but his mask of indifference remained intact. He leaned back slightly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"And what's your brilliant plan? You want to come here and interrogate him? Or maybe keep him under surveillance like a criminal?"
"That's not it," Masamichi replied, his voice steady but strained. "I just need to be sure you're taking this seriously. If we ignore this and the balance tips, it won't just be your school or mine that suffers the consequences."
A heavy silence filled the air. Yoshinobu absently ran his fingers along the armrest of the chair, as if considering something far away. Then he straightened, his sharp gaze locking onto the camera.
"Let me give you some advice, Masamichi," Yoshinobu said, his voice low and cutting. "Listen carefully."
Masamichi narrowed his eyes, his expression guarded.
Yoshinobu continued, his tone icy: "Stay out of this. And more importantly, stay away from that boy. Trust me—it's not your problem, and you don't want it to become one."
There was finality in Yoshinobu's tone, a cold edge that sent a chill through the room. Masamichi clenched his jaw, his fist tightening against his unseen desk.
"Yoshinobu, he's—"
Before he could finish, Yoshinobu ended the call with a swift motion, the screen going black with a muted click.
In the now-silent office, Yoshinobu stood up slowly, adjusted his clothes, and turned to face Utahime.
"I don't need to tell you what to do if he calls again, do I?"
Utahime, her cheeks flushed and her heart pounding, nodded quickly.
Yoshinobu shot her a brief glance, an unyielding sharpness in his eyes, before leaving the room without another word.
For a moment, Utahime remained frozen, her gaze fixed on the black screen of the computer. Masamichi's words echoed faintly in her mind: "This boy… there's something about him—a serious problem… the anomaly…"
She turned toward the window, staring out at the landscape below.
"Ryosuke…" she whispered.
TO BE CONTINUED!
A/N: -5 Chapters left for the arc.
Next Chapter: So What is It?