Classroom of the Elite: Checkmate 33.5

"Aren't I kinda pathetic?"

Self-mocking questions like this popped into my mind from time to time, but I never found an answer for any of them. I couldn't recall when this horrendous nightmare began — wasn't capable of envisioning a future in which I wouldn't need to look over my shoulder — but I would keep fighting.

My prospects weren't rosy, but I was assured that my life would improve.

As long as I didn't give up, there was hope for a better tomorrow.

I loosened my skirt and let the panties slide along my legs.

A pleasant sense of comfort and relief spread through my frame after I sat down and relaxed my tense muscles. The loud, squeaking door burst open like a rattled soda can as the first few droplets splashed into the toilet water.

""Found you!""

The intruders surrounded the stall less than five seconds later. They jumped up the sides and pushed their mobile phones over the thin walls to record me during my alone time. Multiple deriding laughs and a lone high-pitched shriek of panic overshadowed the low rippling sounds underneath. My arms, forced into action by sheer instinct, covered the area around my private parts as I lowered my head in embarrassment.

How are they here?!

"She stopped peeing! That's hilarious!"

"Look how the mighty Karuizawa is shaking!"

"Give us a show and spread your legs."

"That bitch is probably all sloppy down there."

"I can't stop laughing... This is amazing!"

"GO AWAY! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

The discomfort in my frustrated voice was reinforced by the intense crimson flush that surfaced on my pale face. My, for them entertaining reaction, invited the group to ramp up their dirty jokes, which led to more stupid comments about the disgusting rumors they had spread about me and the many guys they forced me to confess to.

Their mockery wasn't unfamiliar.

I was used to sliced clothes or stained underwear during PE, got accustomed to the buckets of freezing wastewater they emptied over me all year round and grew familiar with the repugnant smell of vomit, feces and dead animals they placed in my bags when they were bored, but recording me while I relieved myself was too far, even for them.

"Hey don't be so prickly. We're having fun here."

"Yeah, stop being such a sourpuss Karuizawa!"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!"

"How long you wanna stay in that stall, anyway?"

"Let's pour water over her again!"

"You're right, it's been a while... Like two days?"

"Hanawa, where did you stash the bucket?"

"It's in the other restroom on the second floor. I'll grab it, so wait for me." One of the hovering phones vanished from my view as the girl jumped back down and dashed off without delay. The other group members were about to proceed with their ridiculing remarks when the door swung open yet again. "Tatsugashira-sensei is walking by."

They stopped recording and hopped off in unison.

Three of them locked themselves inside the remaining empty cabins next to mine and answered the call of nature while the others gathered around the sink and gossiped about the most disliked boys, the new line-ups from their favorite clothing brands or other matters adolescent middle-schoolers spoke about in their free time.

Should I run for it?

Ambushes like this weren't out of the norm, which was why I opted for the compartment that granted me the best chance to flee in case I was cornered. If I hurried, I could slip outside and follow the teacher, whose presence would stop them from harassing me — at least for now. Depending on their discontent with my actions, I might get beaten even worse later, but everything was better than being recorded in here.

I braced myself and reached forward.

The toilet paper I grabbed onto had a strange sticky texture, different to the expected soft structure I was familiar with. Due to the circumstances of their 'prank', I wasn't in the right headspace and couldn't discount the possibility that they colluded with the boys, which prompted me to jerk back in revulsion.

"EWW!"

My sudden, uncontrolled movements reached from my horror-stricken face all the way to my fingers, which still stuck to the roll that skidded off the holder. The following hysteric outburst was accompanied by multiple frenzied punches to keep the rancid syrupy substance far away from me.

One of these hits connected, much to my regret.

"NO!"

Another desperate shout left my lips once I recognized my mistake.

The first few sheets stuck to the ground because of the adhesive on the exterior, while the rest rolled towards the sinks. I lunged forward, tugged on the toilet paper that kept unwinding itself faster the harder I pulled it back and was about to detach the clean layers on one of the perforations when a cold palm gripped onto my wrist.

"Got you."

Her sinister voice was accompanied by an insufferable pain.

Kurihara tore at my hand — yanked me against the blue door until my lips cracked and bled. I cried, howled in anguish and begged the other girls to leave me alone as they began to stomp on my arm until I couldn't move it anymore.

"IT HURTS! STOP IT! PLEASE!"

"Damn, she really fell for it."

"God, what a moron."

"This is beyond hilarious! I can't..."

Laughter and similar insulting remarks drifted into my ears. Each impact increased my pained gasps and the desperate pleas that escaped my burning lungs during their assault. I struggled and fought against their relentless onslaught, but all my efforts in pulling my arm back into the stall were for naught.

"Hey, do you think she'll fit under?"

"There's only one way to know for sure."

""Yeah, let's go!""

"NO! SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!"

Tears and snot trickled down my chin as their hands reached beneath the door. They fumbled around until they found another body part to hold on to and pulled with all of their might. My head smashed into the wooden barrier multiple times while my anguished screams reverberated within the restroom's interior. The familiar but unpleasant taste of blood spread into my mouth, ran along the small crevices between my teeth and seeped through my sore throat.

"A pea-sized brain, eh? Karuizawa?"

Each jolt felt like the one that would tear my libs straight out of my shoulder. Every impact battered my face — bruised and wrecked my features until I wondered whether my parents would still recognize me if I survived this day.

My desperate appeals never stopped.

But none of them cared.

They dragged my sluggish body over the tiles and through the opening underneath the door. The scratches and abrasions on my banged up frame worsened as one of the scrawnier girls climbed over and stomped my still exposed backside to push me outside. Another group stuffed around a dozen paper towels in my mouth to shut me up before they supported the others during their ongoing 'experiment'.

Against all odds, my head squeezed through.

But this was only the beginning — a small foretaste of the agony I was yet to experience.

Gashes and violet bruises formed on my rear and stomach following their continuous abuse. I wailed, howled and cried into the saliva soaked tissues, but their assault never stopped. They trampled over my bleeding back, shredded my torn clothes and pulled on my hair as if I was an old toy doll that was about to be thrown into the gutter.

"The great Karuizawa, beaten and humiliated."

"Quite a nice look you got there."

"Still consider yourself superior to us, huh?"

Joyous laughs echoed through the restroom.

"We asked you a question, you damn arrogant bitch." Kurihara's shoe buried itself deep in my aching stomach. "Didn't your parents tell you how to behave in front of people? Maybe you just need another lecture by yours truly?"

Every word was followed by an impact.

My sore body, which was about to slump forward from the pain, got yanked back up. Kurihara and her friends towered over me and stared down at my pitiful presence as if I was little more than a disgusting insect that had crossed her path.

A weaker person would have given up by now.

But I swore to never grant them their satisfaction.

"Well, if you don't reply, you have no right to complain."

The girls took turns slapping and kicking me.

Most of them focused on my stomach area, while the others battered my face. They punched my gut until I puked, pounded my aching breasts and struck my sides, which began to change color from all the impacts they had to endure.

I collapsed, cried and begged them to stop.

And every time they pulled me up on my hair.

What had I done wrong to deserve this treatment?

Why couldn't they understand that I never meant them harm?

How could this cursed world be so unfair to me?

The collisions that rattled my brain were so intense that I lost my orientation for a few seconds. My head snapped to the left and jerked to the right as soon as another hit connected with my cheek. They giggled and ridiculed me while my field of vision altered between the locked stall door and the copper-colored metal pipes in the engine room.

Deafening whacking sounds trembled along the machinery as my whole body whipped back and forth. Morofuji's glasses kept reflecting my miserable past self every time she slammed her flat palm into my red face.

"Ha. Hahaha. This is fun! Hahahaha."

She, just like the others, grew accustomed to the convenient punching bag that couldn't defend itself. Beating the crap out of me seemed to be quite compelling, according to their delighted expressions. Contrary to my own thoughts, I didn't become stronger — hadn't outgrown my middle-school tormentors.

I was still the same deplorable insect.

A parasite that wouldn't survive on its own.

"S-s-s-stop it! P-please."

Deep inside, I was used to the discomfort — familiar with the numbness of my reddened skin after their strikes. Each slap was more painful than the last, but none of them came close to the anguish I had experienced on that ruinous day. I was unable to hold my tears, the reflexive pleas for mercy and the troubled screams, but I had survived worse situations.

How was this cruel treatment warranted?

Why escalate a simple push to such a point?

Was my way of keeping up appearances wrong?

Was I at fault for not wanting to endure this again?

Satou and Matsushita would never understand my hardships. None of them could relate to the harrowing feeling of being mistreated. They couldn't remember the stomps on their hands, wouldn't feel the texture of their soles to this day and weren't capable of comprehending that my whole life had been nothing but an unfortunate series of events.

Would my past catch up to me now?

Despite the school giving me a chance?

Tears streamed down my pulsating face as the girl grabbed my bangs and thrust me back against the wall as hard as she could. Morofuji stopped her assault on my burning cheeks and began to target different spots beneath my uniform before she invited Manabe and Yajima to join her in this endeavour.

"You were right, Shiho-chan! She's not scary at all!"

"I told you, didn't I? Let's make sure to enjoy this."

The three girls kept kicking and hitting me as they pleased.

None of them seemed to be satisfied with letting me suffer 'just this much'. I screamed and called out for help while they laughed and ridiculed me, but the heavy steel door that led into this prison never opened. Hirata, the one who had forsaken me despite his promise, wouldn't come to my rescue.

"P-pleawse... don't..."

They had stopped slapping my face in fear of leaving evidence and spat at me instead. A few drops trickled along my cheeks, nose and freshly washed hair, which carried the disgusting stench of their saliva. Manabe forced me to lick her shoes while the others kept kicking my breasts and stomach with unadulterated satisfaction.

How much longer would they keep this up?

This cruel, almost barbaric scene reached its climax once the recording time on the phone climbed up to half an hour. Morofuji and her two friends seemed more than satisfied with the outcome of this 'talk', their lips beaming at my silent, unmoving classmate, who had stopped screaming around the twenty-minute mark.

"Phew, that was refreshing!"

"Agreed! How are you feeling, Rika?"

"Much better! Thank you for this, Shiho-chan."

"Don't worry about it." Manabe stretched her tired arms and regarded the girl with a smile. "Someone's gotta protect you if you won't do it yourself, right? I doubt that she dares to bother you again after this beating, so our work here is done."

"Mh. Let's go back, I'm beat!"

"Wow, you are the worst..."

Three cheerful laughs, a handful of shrewd remarks and a strengthened companionship between the actors closed the curtains on this troublesome incident on a positive note for all involved Class C students as they ambled towards the exit.

Morofuji managed to work through her anxieties and looked forward to their remaining time at this school, free from the shackles that Karuizawa's presence had coiled around her. Manabe buried her petty grudge against my classmate after forcing our proud gyaru into such a shameful state, whereas Yajima had procured a recording that could be valuable for multiple factions, even though she hadn't realized this herself.

A perfect ending — or that's what they had hoped.

"Ha. Hahaha. This is fun! Hahahaha."

"S-s-s-stop it! P-please."

The smiles of all three girls contorted.

""What?""

"Huh?"

Their previous carefree movements froze as all color drained from their faces. Regret flashed through Manabe's quivering eyes while Morofuji's knees began to tremble in horror. She was the most affected after hearing her own voice — listened to this distorted version of her usual kind presence, which would remain as an everlasting reminder of her wickedness.

Her legs gave in, chaining her to the ground.

Yajima, albeit startled, was the calmest out of the bunch. She was the only one who realized that the sounds came from a direction none of them would have expected. Following her perception, she turned around and glared at Karuizawa.

Above..?

I tilted my sore, aching head and peered at a speaker that had been taped to the ceiling. The black device was about the size of a shampoo bottle, which made it difficult to distinguish from the support beams if one wasn't paying attention.

Who..?

"What did you do?"

Me..?

"Hehehe...hahaha..."

A weak chuckle escaped my lips.

Maybe now they'd be punished.

Wouldn't that be great?

I couldn't help but be amused by her ghastly complexion, despite the dull pain that flickered through my chest. Neither the dry, painful coughs nor the queasy feeling in my stomach were enough to stop me from laughing to my heart's content after noticing their apprehension. My situation might have been awful, but theirs was even worse.

This school differed from traditional ones.

Yamauchi vanished from one day to the next, similar to the Class C delinquents who had been eliminated by Matsushita. There was no second chance — no coming back from an expulsion once decided. Those girls wouldn't be able to talk themselves out of this mess if this recording was handed over to a teacher.

With any luck, I could keep my secret.

"Answer me, you damn —"

Her angry remark was cut short as she took note of two muffled steps that originated from the far end of the room. She spun around and stared into the dark corner, similar to the rest of us, but no one appeared. Manabe, who had been strangely silent for some time, clenched her fists and walked closer towards her friends.

"Show yourself."

Once again, someone moved.

A figure clad in black stepped out of the shadows.

His facial features were obscured by a mask with no unique characteristics, aside from the holes that sheltered two unsympathetic violet will-o'-wisps. He appeared quite intimidating, with even his hands covered by thin gloves, but also somewhat silly since his jacket seemed to be half a size too large.

Yajima took a step back once their gazes met.

"You damn coward! What do you want for the recording, huh? That's why you showed up after we were done with her, right? To make a deal that benefits you? We don't have many points because of Ryuuen, but if we pool them together —"

Manabe was unable to finish her sentence as the boy bolted forward and buried his knee in her stomach. Her friends, frozen in shock, flinched and watched the girl's desperate gasps for air as she slumped to the ground with an excruciating howl that eclipsed my own. The assailant grabbed her bangs and yanked her up, unaffected by the ear-shattering screams.

Tears and snot dribbled down her fear-stricken face as he continued his fierce assault. His leg vanished deep inside her abdomen once, twice, thrice and four times over. Every impact churned my insides because I understood through how much pain she was suffering. Each anguished wail caused an abundance of goosebumps that crept over my whole body as I peered into a pair of eyes that couldn't belong to a sane human being.

"Urgh!"

Multiple unpleasant retching sounds were followed by a loud, continuous splat as her lunch trickled onto the cold steel floor. The thread of translucent saliva snapped in half as he dumped Manabe's unmoving figure in her own vomit. None of her classmates helped or tried to run away, paralyzed by the boy's ruthless depiction of violence.

Morofuji trembled on the ground.

Her body was a lifeless shell that witnessed horrors she couldn't comprehend. Ryuuen might have been acknowledged as the most savage student in our year, but she was unable to deal with the image of her friend, whose face was forced into the yellowish substance while pieces of floating meat bumped against her nose.

Unlike them, I was familiar with such savagery.

I knew the pain of having my stomach turned inside out by punches, kicks or other impacts and recalled the horrid taste of vomit seeping along my throat. There was no way that I could ever forget the revolting sensation of my half digested food, which traveled up and down my esophagus as they kept tormenting me in a deserted corner of the school.

Despite this, I couldn't look into those cold orbs.

"No..."

Yajima broke out of her daze and ran towards the exit on her right. The boy, however, didn't move to prevent her from leaving. He tilted his head in wonder, almost as if he was watching her futile struggles with an amused expression and drove Manabe's face into her discharges by shifting his weight on her cheek.

"Why won't you open, damn it!"

She rattled on the handle, unable to escape.

Her horrified gaze wandered to the steel door through which the three had entered. She glanced at me in fear, peeked at the hooded monster that brutalized her classmate and dashed towards the only way out without a second thought.

"SOMEONE HELP —"

This decision was her biggest mistake.

The presence in the center of the room vanished behind one of the generators as soon as she moved. Her reaction to this sudden development was a high-pitched shriek, which was followed by a deafening bang that quashed her complaints.

A pair of eerie, calm steps broke the ensued silence before his intimidating figure came back into view. His hand gripped onto Yajima's hair as he dragged the dazed, groaning girl over the ground like a wet sack of rice until he discarded her in the puddle next to Manabe, causing specks of vomit to splash around the area.

Tears dripped along her cheek, and our eyes met.

"Please... stop... him... It hurts..."

Was she asking me?

The boy stopped in his tracks.

I knew her agony better than anyone.

My middle school tormentors have beaten me black and blue more times than I could count. They forced me to eat stuff that shouldn't be eaten, drove me to confess to people that were disgusting and pressured me into other things I wasn't proud of. But they continued, despite my anxious pleas for mercy.

None of them cared.

So why would I?

He stepped over her writhing body and slammed his foot into her stomach. Morofuji's pale frame trembled with every jolt and scream these impacts caused as she gazed at her friend, who was unable to defend herself from this madness.

Should I feel sorry for their misfortune?

No — they deserved this misery.

Yajima gagged and was about to puke when the man stepped on her right shoulder, pressing her against the ground. He bent over, clutched her forehead and forced the girl to look at him as she began to choke on her own vomit. Her frame shook and her shivering arms moved. She slapped against his leg, not to hurt him, but to beg for mercy.

If he kept this up, she would die.

Even I knew that.

So why...?

Why would he keep watching?

How could he think so little of her?

Horrible people wandered this world, but I had never seen someone this callous. I would have understood the beating Manabe received if he was angry for my sake, or if he had been the one they tormented, but his arctic violet orbs while he suffocated Yajima were void of anything that resembled a human emotion.

Irritation, resentment or jealousy were sentiments I had observed often whenever my schoolmates decided to vent their frustration on me, but this apathy — this cruel, inhuman detachment and disregard for a person's life wasn't normal.

My whole body shook in terror.

I have to get out of here.

This is insanity...

A light, almost inaudible whimper escaped my lips the second I tried to prop myself up. The stabs of pain that shot through my bruised joints was too intense and forced me to the ground, where I found myself incapable of moving.

Yajima's pitiful attempt at retaliation weakened before her motionless arm sank. He rolled her trembling body to the side and kicked her back until she began to wheeze. Wet coughs rippled through the stagnant vomit on the steel flooring as the girl puked, mixing the existing yellow substance with an additional light green.

With this, only one person remained unharmed.

Morofuji had realized this as well.

"No... please — don't. I..."

The figure squatted in front of her and moved his index finger towards his concealed lips. His uncaring, lifeless spheres shifted and stopped on me. Dread crept along my bruised frame as he stood up and strode to his previous hiding place.

Manabe, the first victim, still squirmed, unable to move despite this potential chance to escape. Yajima was in a similar condition, occupied with catching her breath after almost choking on her vomit. Their quivering, unharmed companion was so out of it that she sat around in silence, while I couldn't leave due to the intense pain that assaulted my muscles every time I tried to get back on my feet.

Would I be next?

I wasn't a stranger to despair, but this was different.

Could I latch onto him to save myself?

Hirata had already abandoned me.

Without his prestige, I might not keep my place in our hierarchy, but I was friends with Matsushita and Ayanokouji, who managed to eclipse me in terms of popularity after the incident with Sudou and our week on the island. Losing his support wouldn't kick me too far down the social ladder — if he kept quiet about my secret.

The only one who could stop him was in this room.

I could never put my trust in someone else because of Hirata's heartless betrayal. Our leader was more than capable of keeping him from spilling my secrets, but I wasn't brave enough to entrust her with my past and, therefore, my future.

Not after today...

Our jailer returned with a roll of duct tape, walked to Morofuji and tied up her limbs before he repeated this procedure for the remaining Class C students. He dragged the group of three outside the engine room and into the corridor to my right, to which Yajima had tried to escape before he shut the door and strode up to me.

"Are you okay, Karuizawa?"

This hushed question floated along her smooth earlobes as I sat down and observed my classmate's widened amethysts. Her trembling lips fluttered open and closed just as fast, unable to accept that this all too familiar voice hid beneath the woolen mask of the person who had tormented and traumatized three schoolmates in front of her eyes.

"A-ayanokouji-kun..?"

She must have been scared to death.

Hirata's apparent betrayal caught her off-guard and sent my gyaru into a downward spiral of doubt, fear and uncertainty. The beating she received from our friends in Class C reopened old scars and dragged her further into the dark crevice in which I had lured her. Then, just as she thought that she had survived this ordeal, someone even worse entered the scene.

The unknown assailant was brutal, ruthless, and cold.

Her anxieties kept climbing with each step towards them, similar to the disturbing memories of her past, which intensified every time my leg smashed into one of the girls. Karuizawa might not have been the victim, but she felt these impacts as though they violated her own body — dreaded the possibility that her turn would come once theirs had ended.

Everything was lost.

That was the conclusion she had drawn...

... until the monster opened its maw.

Confusion began to cloud her thoughts because of the face that popped into her mind once she heard my soothing voice. Reality and expectation were so far apart that her brain stopped processing the inputs it received. The truths, which she believed to be facts, clashed and paralyzed her slender body as I took off the mask.

Her pent-up unease vanished with a snap.

The pressure that had been weighing on her afflicted psyche was blown away when she realized that the person she had feared the most meant her no harm. She lifted her stiff, shaking arms and snaked them around my broad, reassuring frame before she nuzzled into my comfortable shoulder.

"It's really you, Ayanokouji-kun! Hirata-kun, he —"

"Shh... it's fine, you're safe now. Calm down first."

I accepted her embrace and bit into the glove to keep it in place while my hand slipped out. My gentle palm cupped the back of her head and caressed through the smooth, spit covered hair to soothe her distressed heart. Warm tears trickled into the borrowed jacket, coating the microscopic strings of fabric that squeezed against my clothes.

"It's okay to cry... I'm here for you..."

She was familiar with the cruelty of humans — no stranger to the violence and other extreme scenarios that would have disgusted or disturbed a sheltered person who grew up in the daylight of this twisted world, which caused all the qualms about my inhuman actions and her volatile condition to fade into the background as she caught sight of a friend.

For a moment, at least.

"Wow..." My classmate sniveled, pulled away to put some distance between us and wiped her glimmering eyes. "You are racking up quite the batch of prince charming points with your behavior." A faint laugh slipped her glistening, wet lips. "That's also one of the commandments, so don't forget this lesson, Ayanokouji-kun!"

"Forget something you taught me? I wouldn't dare."

Karuizawa nodded and regarded my statement with her usual smile, but her attitude around me had changed. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop throwing glances at my contours whenever my torso moved. This subtle shift in conduct was an expected transformation for my battle-hardened bishop, who kept suffering at the hands of her tormentors.

She was wary, but didn't intend to voice her concerns.

"Sorry that you had to see this."

"No, it's okay... I mean, we all have secrets, right?"

Her crude attempt to dismiss my actions was ill-conceived because she had difficulties deciding on how she wanted to deal with me from now on. Class D's endangered parasite knew that I held all the cards in this confrontation, but she believed that she had a good chance to walk away scot-free since I seemed to cherish our friendship.

"I suppose that's true. Still, seeing me like this must have been uncomfortable for you. What I did isn't something you can just forget, especially with how harsh I was with Yajima, so I wanted to apologize. The following words might not help, but I need you to know that I never planned on hurting them enough to threaten their life. I'm well aware of how much she would have been able to survive and made sure that she wouldn't have lasting physical damages."

Concern flashed through her swollen spheres.

"D-did Matsushita-san tell you to do that?"

This was the last remaining way out after being face-to-face with a version of Ayanokouji Kiyotaka she couldn't classify. My girlfriend had proven that she would retaliate to attacks without mercy in case someone dared to force her hand. Compared to her, I had never displayed such severe changes in my behavior, which led my shrewd bishop to the rationalization that I carried out external orders with her blessing.

"Chiaki?"

A gentle expression appeared on my lips.

The strange, questioning tone confused my piece, but she still held onto the notion that I might take the bait and swallow the lie she had crafted to support my escape. She took great pride in her instincts, even though they seemed to have let her down in Hirata's case, and was assured that no one but me decided to brutalize our two schoolmates.

"She's just a puppet who's losing her value."

"W-what..?"

"Come on... you're not that dumb, Karuizawa."

Her eyes widened in horror.

My tone hadn't changed, but she understood that this present 'me' differed from the Ayanokouji Kiyotaka she knew and appreciated as a friend. She bounced away in fright, crawled backwards and bumped against one of the four cold steel walls which trapped her in this room, together with the monster she dreaded.

"W-who are you?"

"That's an insanely stupid question."

"N-no, I d-didn't mean —"

"Shh..." I pulled off my second glove and stashed the pair inside my pockets. "You don't need to explain yourself." My fingertips caressed over her smooth skin, whereupon she averted her gaze. "It's no surprise that you are confused."

Karuizawa's lithe body convulsed in terror.

All her remaining questions and the doubts she had harbored resolved themselves as she stared into my lifeless eyes. Her mesmerizing amethysts shook, devoured by the void that seeped through the colored contacts. My bishop's skittish pupils constricted — flashed to the side whenever our gazes entwined — horrified by the emptiness they gazed upon.

"Why are you doing this?"

"What do you think?"

"You are just like those other perverts, aren't you?" Tears trickled down her chin as she bit her lip in frustration. "Is that the reason you keep touching me, huh?" She grabbed my hand and yanked it away in disgust. "Because you want my body?"

My vile spheres conveyed neither lust nor anger.

She couldn't unravel my hollow stare and voiced an assumption that was born through the glances of her male classmates and other boys who showed interest in her objectively pleasing physical features. Their unwanted looks must have been nauseating and fear-inducing, even more so with her twisted past in mind.

"Do you enjoy it? People treating you like this?"

"Are you crazy? Who would want that?"

"So you don't?" My fingertips rubbed over her smooth, moist lips. "Is it wrong to assume that you take pleasure in being spit on, beaten and touched in indecent places when you can't even voice a proper denial? Wouldn't a victim fight these unwanted advances instead of letting it play out with a defiant look?"

"I HATE IT AND YOU ARE JUST AS DESPICABLE!"

Karuizawa acknowledged my unfair question and ran her mouth, shedding all restraints. If we had been on equal footing in physical strength, information or popularity, she would have shaken me off and might have tried to push me away, but I was no longer an individual she could provoke without facing severe repercussions.

"Mh, I doubt that my girlfriend would agree."

"That makes you even worse!"

Her sweet lips voiced multiple weak-willed complaints about my approaches as a substitute for her body, which couldn't deny the fingertips that brushed along her silky smooth skin. Putting the video aside, she could neither go to Hirata, the one who had discarded her, nor would she ask Matsushita for help, because she was the woman whose boyfriend did those unspeakable things to her. My poor, quivering gyaru had to comply if she wished to keep the status quo.

"Spread your legs."

Tears streamed down her face as she peered at my smile.

This contradiction of words and gestures wasn't something she was prepared to deal with. Karuizawa, who had suffered more than anyone else, was unable to understand how a person could grow into such a twisted abomination. Yet, despite these thoughts, she held onto her conviction. The immovable will she had displayed in the face of Manabe and her two companions remained steadfast as she glared at me in unadulterated disgust.

She pushed her legs apart with a quiet whimper.

"Just get it over with and leave me alone..."

Her spiteful voice turned cold and robotic.

My callous complexion didn't change as she revealed her white panties, which were decorated with a light pink waistband. I examined her watery eyes and the tips of her teeth before she bit down on her lower lip. These pathetic, disgruntled, and resentful reactions were similar to Kikyou's attitude back then.

Would another distorted love develop?

Or was Karuizawa my second chance?

"You should treasure yourself more."

"Eh?"

The teardrops, which had dwindled the moment she accepted her fate, began to pour down her adorable cheeks as she felt my palm patting along the top of her head. I pinned her left foot against my right one and moved her legs back together, closing the gap she had formed in compliance with my instructions.

"That's something only your special person should see."

A gentle smile emerged on my face as I ran my fingers through her hair and tucked a few loose strands behind her ear. She was taken aback by my change in demeanor to where her lips began to tremble. Her mouth opened and closed, similar to a stranded fish that kept fighting for its survival.

"What are you..?"

This was all she could muster.

I fetched my phone and navigated to the gallery to display a list of all pictures and videos I had taken. Her eyes followed my right index finger, which selected the newest media file to play. She stared at the screen as I kept fast-forwarding through the recording to assure her that I had proof of everything the three girls did.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because I believe in Karuizawa Kei."

Following those words, I tapped the corner whereupon a menu popped up. My classmate's confusion increased as I handed her my phone and opened the last dialogue, which asked her whether she wanted to delete the file.

"You are a precious friend to me. I learned that you were bullied in middle school around May, but I kept this information a secret from everyone because it wasn't my story to tell. We might not be as close as I am with Chiaki or you seem with Satou, but I'm thankful that you were one of my initial acquaintances here."

Bewilderment clouded her almonds.

Doubts and discomforting thoughts spun around like a vinyl — an overture of sounds and feelings she could not fathom. Uncertainty emerged in her scattered mind, followed by questions she was unqualified to answer. My bishop must have pondered about the meaning of my previous actions and contemplated my relationship with Chiaki while I drowned her remaining capacity with an appalling truth and an opportunity she would never have expected.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

She gazed at my phone, lost for words.

Karuizawa had never known genuine kindness.

The people in her life fell into three general categories, depending on their notions about her. First were the ones who gathered around her due to her popularity or comparable qualities. They were similar to herself in that regard, as they tried to increase their reputation or acceptance in our primitive social structure by latching onto their superior.

Second in line were the people who disliked her.

This group span from the girls badmouthing her right now to the individuals that kept tormenting her in middle school. Karuizawa meant no harm, but she spoke and acted in a manner that was easy to misunderstand. She was often mean-spirited and displayed an aversion to the likes of Sotomura and Ike to protect the false persona she had constructed, which led to misconceptions about her overall behavior, even outside of our class.

The remaining students didn't feel any special way about her.

Hirata was an outlier due to the burden he had to carry and would have mimed the boyfriend for any girl that asked him for help, as long as her reason was compelling enough. Their relationship was tainted from the start, since Karuizawa flocked to him in order to boost her popularity, whereupon she realized that his unlimited kindness could be exploited.

Satou and Chiaki were friends she could not yet grasp.

Her past trauma prevented her from moving forward — forced her to sort both of our classmates into the first group of people in her life. She couldn't believe that someone would appreciate her company without strings attached because of all the abuse and backstabbing she had endured during her time in junior high.

I used her agony to drive my agenda.

"Why don't you decide for yourself?"

Karuizawa's puzzled gaze alternated between me and the phone I gave her. She was overwhelmed and kept searching for a hidden plan, a trap I might have set to harass or torment her. The anguish she went through in her youth was so awful that it caused a mild form of PTS, which had been triggered by Manabe, Morofuji and Yajima.

Their punches, kicks and slaps must have been painful, but they never warranted screams like hers. They were induced by something invisible and far more sinister. The uninformed often discounted the intensity of these horrible, distressing flashbacks that plagued the victim because they couldn't comprehend how it felt to relive one's worst nightmare.

But I understood.

The children in the White Room never had a chance. I saw their sanity crumble, wither away as their bodies convulsed. Their will to live was shaved off, layer by layer, until nothing but a hollow husk remained. One by one, they broke apart, lost their value as 'research' and were thrown aside. Some decayed slower than others, but the outcome persisted.

It would have been easy to use the evidence I procured to force Karuizawa into submission. Her strong mentality alone couldn't protect her from the repercussions once her secret was leaked. Confronting her as an enemy was wasted time, since it was more effective to let her pain work to my advantage.

Aside from this, there was one additional reason.

I wanted to see how far I could corrupt her.

"You knew about the bullying?"

"Yes, your reaction to Chabashira's harsh verbal beating in May betrayed a related inherent trauma. After taking Hirata's self-sacrificial nature and my previous doubts about you into consideration, I concluded that your relationship was a charade to increase your popularity, which would make it improbable that your past repeated itself."

Karuizawa was astonished by my analysis and gazed at the ground as if she was caught stealing cookies. The revelation that an unrelated party knew about everything the two of them did was uncomfortable, but she appeared to be relieved rather than dismayed. My honesty demonstrated that she seemed to be the one in control of our conversation.

"It's kinda scary how accurate that is..."

"Sorry..."

Her lips formed a faint smile as I scratched my cheek.

"I also think of you as a friend. You protected my secret and never demanded a compensation for your silence." She grit her teeth and tapped the power button without deleting the picture before handing me the phone. "That's why I've decided that I wish to put my trust into Ayanokouji-kun as well."

"Are you sure?"

"Mh, it's too late to change my mind now."

"I can unlock it again if you want to reconsider?"

"Baka..." Her adorable chuckle faded as she leaned her head against the wall and stared up the ceiling. "But this speaker must be yours then, right..?" A hint of apprehension reflected in her amethysts as she remembered an important fact she had overlooked due to her muddled emotions. "You learned about the trap and prepared all of this in advance..."

My classmate was far from stupid, but she wasn't equipped to keep all these intricacies on her mind with this much going on. I kept forcing her to adjust her emotional state from one moment to the next while she was haunted by fear and carried into comfort, just to be thrown back into the darkness she felt so familiar with.

"It's natural to assume that I either lured you into this ambush or did nothing to help you, despite my knowledge, which would lead you to the wrong conclusion. I heard snippets of the audio recording Manabe played and inferred that Hirata must have talked to you after I told him about your disputes with the Class C girls."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"We both know that he didn't betray you or you wouldn't have trusted him with your past. He wasn't keen on helping you, because you pushed Morofuji, but he would never have sold out his classmates. When I talked to him to confirm my hypothesis, he was still looking for a way to keep everyone happy, as he always does."

The faint, distraught expression she had worn the whole time faded after those words entered her ears. Her subconscious was aware that her fake boyfriend hadn't abandoned her, but the voice in her head convinced her of the opposite. All the hints she found pointed to him being their informant, so she had no choice but to accept this as the truth.

"So it wasn't him after all..."

"With this, only a few viable suspects came to mind. I began my initial investigation with the most obvious candidates and discovered that a certain 'friend' of yours had dealings with Ryuuen behind our backs. She must have hidden her phone inside your cabin to gather more intelligence and happened to record your conversation. Class C's leader wouldn't have been privy to these arguments, which was why she contacted Manabe and sold her the information for private points."

"Why? I don't see a reason for doing this."

"Because she has nothing to lose by working with them. Most of us are low on funds, despite moving up the hierarchy. There are a few exceptions like Hirata, Suzune and Chiaki, but our remaining classmates endured with the help of the free meals and the emergency relief supplies in the stores. She saw an easy way to stock up on resources and took the chance."

"Isn't the risk too high? If Matsushita-san found out —"

"What if that isn't a concern? You, of all people, should understand how harsh the bottom of the social ladder is. Don't tell me that you have never thought about paying your oppressors back for the awful things they did to you. Picture a person not yet bullied, but still disliked by most of our classmates, including some of the most important actors. Imagine being less smart, not as attractive to the general population, and having a lower sense of self-worth. Wouldn't such a deplorable individual betray their own class for recognition from someone like Ryuuen?"

Karuizawa remained silent.

I didn't know how far the people in her middle school went, but it was enough to develop PTS, which confirmed that she survived at the brink of the tolerable. She was primed — in a perfect state to immerse herself in this hypothetical scenario.

Her mental fortitude was exceptional, but she must have been at her lowest point at least once in her life. Cursing this wicked world — hoping that karma would take its inevitable course to sentence the ones who had wronged her.

If she was honest with herself, the answer would be...

"Yes."

"A few hours ago, she went to see Hirata and convinced him to lure you here under the pretense that she wanted to cheer you up. We established that he wouldn't doubt a classmate, so he saw nothing wrong with inviting you here. Right now she should be alone in your cabin, or meeting with friends, knowing that you are being tortured by Manabe."

"No... this can't be. Who would..?"

"You already know. Trust your instincts."

Only one person fit all the criteria to be the mole, and Karuizawa must have worked through the most probable suspects while she tried to prove Hirata's innocence. She wasn't on my level in terms of intelligence and knowledge, but she could put the puzzle pieces without a doubt. I affirmed her confidence in her false boyfriend and left enough breadcrumbs to guide her to the conclusion she needed to arrive at.

Because it was the truth, in certain aspects.

"The traitor... is it really Shinohara?"

"She was angry when you had my back during our confrontation on the first day. Her apology during dinner was a farce to save face and lull every involved party into a false sense of security. She stole your panties and stashed them in my bag, hoping that one of the boys would rat me out, but she couldn't have expected that Hirata found your underwear and kept the secret. He informed Chiaki about this discovery to figure out their next steps, which led my girlfriend to accuse Ibuki, since Suzune's loose description fit both girls."

"W-wait a minute."

Karuizawa held up her hands, prompting me to stop.

This wasn't a strange reaction after receiving such a barrage of new information. She hadn't known that multiple such interconnected schemes had taken place at the same time and was shocked by all the secrets everyone carried.

"That's the reason she kept pushing so much during your accident, isn't it? Shinohara knew that the evidence was in your bag since that she had planted it. But for what? To ruin your reputation? Break our friendship? Endanger your relationship with Matsushita? If she was after you, then why didn't you reveal that she was the thief?"

"I had no proof and it would have damaged the class." My thumb rubbed along my index finger, betraying nervousness. "It's the same now. She contacted everyone with an anonymous number, which leaves me unable to connect her to these misdeeds. You had to endure this misery, because I needed evidence to stop Manabe and her group from acting against you ever again. I apologize for the way all of this played out."

"Why did you threaten me then?"

"Shinohara is a traitor, Hirata has a dark past and my girlfriend is working with a senior whose objective I don't know. You protected your image, and I withheld my abilities. I love Chiaki and I trust her as far as our relationship goes, but I can't let an outsider steer our ship. We all have our secrets and I need someone I can depend on. My approach was clumsy, but I couldn't come up with a better solution to force you into revealing your hidden ace, in case you had one."

"Matsushita-san is what..?"

Her reaction revealed her prior knowledge about our knight in shining armor. She fell into a daze, unable to handle all the information I fed her. Karuizawa trusted me to a certain degree, but some of my claims were so outrageous that she had difficulties believing them — until tomorrow, that is.

"Would you help me protect this class?"

"Me?" She shook her head. "I'm just a..."

"... self-appointed parasite?"

The girl's eyes quivered.

"How did you —"

"It's a painful remnant from back then, isn't it? The thought that you are an insect, not worth paying attention to? That's the reason you clashed with Rika and keep looking down on guys like the Professor. You don't want to appear weak in front of your so-called 'friends', because you know how much it hurts — how unfair everything is."

"I..." Tears gathered in her radiant spheres as my calm voice resonated through the room. "It didn't matter whether I cried or defended myself. They continued tormenting me, their chosen victim, until they were satisfied. Day by day, I suffered and complained, but no one ever cared about the pain I felt."

She began to weep and wiped her tears.

"You still think of yourself as unworthy and you will remain trapped in this cruel veil if you don't change course. There is nothing wrong with starting out as a parasite, but you need to grow in order to prosper like the flower you could have bloomed into. Manabe was jealous, Rika intimidated and Yajima envied you. Your predominance over those girls scared them into a collaboration to keep you contained — same as your tormentors in middle school."

Her watery eyes distorted.

"They put tacks in my shoes or stuffed my desk full of roadkill. I'd get splashed with dirty water in the bathroom and even outside when no one saw. My classmates wrote 'whore', 'slut' and other insults on my uniform and kicked me until I puked. I viewed myself as a pitiful loser that had been bullied all her life... all just because of jealousy?"

"Cruel, isn't it?" I reached out to Karuizawa and pulled her close. "Despite all of this, you prevailed." My fingers slid along her velvety cheeks as she gazed into my bottomless pits. "We both survived horrors none of our classmates would dare to imagine. You must have seen it — the darkness similar to yours — the reason I put my faith in you. A connection only we share with each other. Become my parasite and evolve until you can stand on your own feet."

""I just want a normal life.""

One simple wish, spoken by two different people.

With this she understood me, the strange boy who leaned back and stared into her amethysts. The things I said to her were more than empty words — they were promises, binding us together if she trusts me with her future.

"How... would this work?"

"On the surface, nothing has to change. We remain friends, and you can stay with Hirata if you still require the relationship with him. He would never dirty his hands, but I won't shy away from violence if it is necessary to protect you. The only courtesy I ask in return is absolute loyalty."

"What do you mean by that?"

"There will be tasks I need you to do, which might lead you into a tough spot. If anyone dares to threaten you, then you notify me. I don't care if it's a class leader, the chairman of this school, the president of a major cooperation or the prime minister of Japan. You come to me. You always tell me everything, and I guarantee your safety."

Karuizawa leaned against the wall.

Weighing her options was no menial task. She had a lot to think about and more to consider. If she needed time, I wouldn't push her into making a hasty decision. For this to work, she had to be on board with my arrangements.

Even though she had no choice.

The illusion was enough.

Was this the right choice?

My quivering fingers hovered over the handle.

Ayanokouji gave me time and all the information I needed to make the best possible decision for myself and the person I would like to be in the future. He was patient, answered every question I had about our arrangement and assured me that I could turn back whenever I wanted as long as I kept his secrets.

I never had this much freedom.

Neither in middle school nor here.

The choices I made were forced onto me by my surroundings. If my tormentors left our classroom in one direction, then I had to escape towards the only remaining option to increase my chances of not running into them. Even now I had to keep up appearances and mingle with people I couldn't care less about to maintain the image of Karuizawa Kei.

"Why am I still hesitating..?"

All options were available to me.

"Ahh, mouu! I did it again!"

Realizing my mishap, I blushed.

'The way you talk to yourself when you are alone is adorable, but you should try to deal with this bad habit before it spells trouble for you. This time it was fine because only I listened, but you never know who else might lurk around the corner.'

Alright, I got this!

I slapped my cheeks, loosened my ponytail and stashed the light-blue scrunchy in my blazer. The machine room didn't feature a mirror, so I had to style my hair with my phone's front facing camera, which was quite the hassle.

"Phew..."

After another deep breath, I slipped into the gloves.

Manabe and her friends shuddered as I opened the door and were rather relieved once they realized that I wasn't the masked man who had whipped them into shape. Their mocking expressions from before were nowhere to be found, replaced by fearful grimaces. Three pairs of eyes stopped on the black fabric, prompting them to beg for mercy.

"Wait, please!"

"We didn't mean it like that. Let's —"

The shouts of the beige-haired girl echoed within the enclosed walls of the corridor. I swallowed the fear that lingered in my quivering heart and dragged her over the floor until we arrived at the puddle she and Yajima created.

'Do you know why I beat them up to such a degree?'

'No... not for certain, at least.'

'Ryuuen uses violence to control his class and we can do the same on a smaller scale. Going easy on them might have made them angry and they could have tried to retaliate against you... But like this? They will never forget how much they suffered at your hands and won't dare to bother you ever again. With this in mind, what do you need to do?'

"'You really are a damn idiot, aren't you?'"

I grabbed my phone and played a familiar recording.

"Yeah, this girl keeps bothering me the whole time because of her friend. So what if I pushed her? I will not apologize. It's this Rika girl's fault that she stood in the way. How come you are taking her side in all of this, huh?"

"What? How did you..?"

"'Slow much? It's not like I've sent you that damn audio twice or anything. Your beating kinda hurt more than expected, but I needed leverage over you, so I had my friend return the favor to even us out. Thing is, you've been really pissing me off with making me lick your shoes and all that, y'know?'" I sat on the chair Ayanokouji carried inside and folded my legs. "'Those are your stomach contents, so suck them up.'"

'It might be uncomfortable, but you have to show them that you pulled the strings all along. I recorded the confrontation with Manabe, so you can use this to make her think that you were the anonymous source. You don't need to be as violent as 'your friend in the black mask', but she and her companions have to believe the lie.'

"No. This kind of thing —"

"'Sorry, can't hear you.'" I placed my foot on her head and pushed her into the pool of vomit. "'You should know that I'm not the sort of person you say no to without facing repercussions. Contrary to that brute Ryuuen, I don't enjoy dirtying my hands, but I wouldn't mind calling my associate back if you prefer his gentle touch.'"

Did they really deserve this treatment?

I knew how it felt to be on the receiving end and wished for them to be punished, but I wasn't sure if this was the right course of action. Ayanokouji presented this proposal, and I was the one who agreed. He said that the recording would keep them silent even without this play and that we could proceed the way I preferred.

So why did I dirty my hands now?

Kurihara, Manabe, Yajima, Morofuji, Shinohara and the other girls who took pleasure in tormenting me were all the same. They had been the ones looking down on me while I thought of myself as an insect. Worm, cockroach, annoying fly... I've been called these things, and more during the countless hours they kicked, slapped and tortured me.

That's the reason, wasn't it?

Wanting to know how it feels...

Just this once...

I didn't want to be like them, despite their cruelty towards me. My attitude might be considered displeasing to some people, but I never provoked them on purpose. They attacked me while I only tried to defend myself. Tormenting them in return would be an exception, a onetime deal with the angel-winged devil.

It didn't take long until the girl complied.

The sounds she made were disturbing regardless of the familiarity I sensed. Her coughing churned my insides, as if the vomit was flowing down my own throat. I felt nauseous upon seeing her lips, from which the yellow-green substance trickled back onto the ground while she tried her best to hold this disgusting liquid in.

"'Good girl.'"

My legs carried me behind one of the machines.

Deep breaths escaped into my shaking hands.

How could they keep going all this time?

Deafening, mocking laughter whirled through my ears. Their inhuman eyes flashed in my vision as I recognized that those people felt not a single shred of remorse for the horrible things they did to me. No one understood my position in this cruel cycle. They never thought of me as a human, or they would have been as appalled by themselves as I am.

Maybe I should return the favor.

Just once...

With my resolve steeled, I strode back into the corridor, grabbed Yajima by her hair and yanked this insect towards her classmate. She gagged as soon as she saw her friend licking through the pool of vomit and averted her gaze.

"'Your phone, where is it?'"

"It's i-in my left p-pocket."

I retrieved the mobile device with a gentle expression.

"'Password?'"

"5819."

"Five... eight... one... nine..." The smile on my face was replaced with a frown as the dialogue displayed an error. "'And here I thought you would play nice.'" My fingers ran through her hair before I smashed her into the puddle next to her companion. "'Should we try this again?'"

A low howl slipped her stained lips.

"N-no, I didn't lie! Please... I swear."

"'Ah, seems I mistyped. What an unfortunate accident...'" I shook my head, feigning a sorry gesture. "'That aside, your friend here looks like she needs some help with her... task. You puked in there as well, so it's only fair if you lick up the other half. Make sure that the puddle actually decreases in size, so hold back on vomiting, ~kay?'"

I leaned into the chair and browsed her phone.

'Once you are done with Manabe, you'll have to handle Yajima. She already thinks that you arranged this ambush, so she shouldn't pose a problem. Get her cellphone and delete the recording she made. You still need one for later, so take mine and threaten them with it to keep their mouths shut.'

Ayanokouji thought everything through.

He differed from his usual self, but he was much more reliable this way. It was weird and flattering to be the only person who knew about this dark side of him, but I understood why he kept himself hidden. Neither Matsushita nor anyone else would understand that something in his past drove him to act in such a cold manner.

Only I did.

Him and I — we were not so different.

We experienced despair.

While I was stuck in this colorless abyss for years, he managed to climb out with his own strength. Those distant eyes had suffered through more than I could ever imagine. His pain lured me in, attracted me like a warm light source invited a swarm of moths. This allure wasn't rooted in romance or love, but a deep understanding no outsider could replicate.

Our misery allowed us to trust each other.

I glanced at the two insects and stood to get the third.

Mistreating them became easier after denying them their humanity. No one felt bad when they stepped on a disgusting bug or slapped a bothersome fly into a bloodstain on the wall because we didn't value their life as much. Thinking back on my past, all those girls must have thought the same about me.

Was this why Ayanokouji could remain so insensitive?

Wasn't this reasoning dangerous..?

No... at least not in our hands.

My tormenters placed themselves above people like us and deserved the same treatment in return. They chose to look down on me, to slap, kick and torture, while he only retaliated to their initial aggression. We just defended ourselves.

'Physical pain is one thing, but they knew about your past and exploited this weakness to let you suffer even more. Their actions were unfair, cruel, and heartless. None of them cared how much you had to endure as long as you felt miserable. And why? For pushing a girl who daydreamed in a line? Because they were jealous of Machida's decision?'

He was right...

They were the monsters.

"Ahhhh!"

Morofuji's screams were louder than the ones of her friends. In contrast to the others, she hadn't been beaten up, wasn't weakened by the pain and never felt the despair they grew familiar with. She struggled and tried to wiggle out of the duct tape while I hauled her over the floor.

"Mou, shut up already!"

"U-ugh!"

The resistance her stomach offered was sickening.

I came to this high school, searching for a quiet life and the opportunity to enjoy the remaining years of my youth. Considering everything I endured, I wasn't asking for much. But even this small wish remained unfulfilled.

They brought this onto themselves.

"'You can stop struggling now. It won't hurt, but it will be very uncomfortable.'" I placed her on the ground and taped her lips to silence the irritating cries. "'The three of you had lots of fun, right? It's only fair to return the favor...'"

'All of this was supposed to be used for cleaning up after them, but you can use some of it. Just take one of the towels and drape it over her nose and mouth. She might squirm, so make sure that it doesn't slip while you dump the water in her face. Count to somewhere around five to ten and remove the cloth until she breathes again and repeat those steps.'

This world was wrong.

Muffled, violent screeches crept along the steel walls.

I'm not at fault.

Morofuji's drenched body trembled.

She did this to herself.

Manabe and Yajima stared at me in horror.

They are the monsters.

"Say, who's the prey now?"