The sky above the campus had dulled into a soft grey, clouds thick and unmoving, as if the world itself was pausing for breath.
With the study groups now in full motion and the classroom energy shifting into focused collaboration, Ryota felt the need to remove himself from the routine—to walk in silence, to feel the presence of the world beyond academic walls. The mall offered a space of triviality, of chatter, and most importantly, of anonymity. He could disappear in its crowd for just a moment.
His steps echoed lightly as he neared the mall's entryway.
"My, my… such presence."
The voice struck from the side—arrogant, theatrical, but oddly composed.
Ryota turned his head.
Standing near the entrance, hands folded behind his back, was a boy with flowing golden hair and a posture that screamed superiority. A smile—wide, confident, maybe too confident—stretched across his face.
"Forgive me," the boy continued, not even looking at Ryota, "I hadn't noticed you before. Quite the failure on my part—my excellent eyes rarely overlook anything of grandeur."
Ryota's eyes rolled without restraint.
"If you hadn't noticed me, then it speaks more of your distractions than of your eyes," he replied. "Still, I don't understand what you're doing in a school like this. From what I've heard, your path was already paved by your father's plans."
At that, the boy turned to face him, finally meeting Ryota's gaze. The smile dimmed slightly, not with shame, but with gravity.
"True," he said, his tone quieter, more grounded. "But I find no joy in inheriting a throne I did not earn. Those future responsibilities—they're a cage. So I came here… for three years of liberty."
Ryota tilted his head.
"Don't lie."
The words were soft but surgical.
Koenji blinked.
Ryota stepped closer, eyes narrowed just slightly.
"You're not here for liberty. You're not running away—you're chasing something. If you want to convince me, bring the truth. Anything less is useless."
Koenji's lips curled again, the smile back—but not the same. It lacked the edge, the ease. Ryota had seen through it.
"You're… sharp," Koenji said with a chuckle. "Too sharp. Fine, then—why are you here, Seki Ryota?"
Ryota looked past him, toward the mall doors, as if what he was about to say wasn't for Koenji alone.
"Opportunity. Not for university. Not for a career. For something far beyond either."
Koenji's posture remained regal, but his gaze sharpened. He nodded, slowly. That answer, at least, he understood.
"So," Ryota continued, "you came here for a prize, then?"
Koenji's smile stayed—but something was off. To most, it would've seemed unchanged. But Ryota could see it. The tension behind the lips, the faint hesitation. That flicker of reaction confirmed it.
"No need to be anxious," Ryota said, folding his hands into his pockets. "I haven't prepared anything for you. Not yet."
He took a step past him.
"But if you ruin what I'm building… if you stand in the way of what I expect to see realized—" he paused, looking back just once, "—then be ready for consequences."
Koenji's eyes followed him.
"A fair warning," he replied. "But remember this—if you attempt to block my path, better watch out for what will come…"
Ryota walked on, steps steady, posture unshaken.
Koenji stood where he was, watching, eyes gleaming with restrained anticipation.
A smirk tugged once more at his lips—not of arrogance, but of intrigue.
"Interesting…"