The scandal had died down.
But its echo still lingered in the air.
Even after the accusations were lifted — the shadow remained.
On me. On the class.
On the entire trial.
Every move was now under a microscope.
Every word — a loaded bullet.
"She definitely didn't act alone," Aoi whispered when we were alone.
"No," I replied. "That was a move. One of the first."
She nodded.
"Think there'll be more?"
"It's already started," I said, holding up a sheet of paper.
On it — a list of contacts Yuki Kaseda had agreed to share.
Three students from other classes. Observers. Potential allies. Or — traitors.
In this trial, no role is obvious.
Even the mirror can lie about who you really are.
That same night, I received a second note.
> "While you watch the actress — the director laughs."
No signature.
But the handwriting was the same as the first.
And at that moment, I understood — she was the bait.
Not the goal, but a tool.
And I'd taken the bait.
The next day, there was a system glitch.
One of the files with interim results appeared unlocked.
Just for a second. Only for those who noticed.
But that was enough to see:
Class 2-D — in second place.
First — 2-A.
Third — 2-C.
Last — 2-B.
And if the standings didn't change, they'd be the ones to lose a student.
"Seems like the actress plays more than one side," I noted. "Or maybe she's not an actress at all. Just a pawn."
"Or a queen," Aoi corrected. "Just on a different board."
Later that day, we were summoned again.
This time — not to the hall, but the inner courtyard.
Where cameras see everything.
Where every emotion becomes part of the report.
The curator stepped out.
"Each class has the right to make one request. Anything. Information. Help. Exchange."
"But only once. For the entire trial."
Some exchanged glances. Others already debated their options.
I knew: most would waste it too early.
We wouldn't.
When night fell, I met her again in the corridor.
The same girl. The same smile.
As if nothing had happened.
I looked her in the eyes.
"You lost," I said.
"Maybe," she replied. "But you know this isn't my game."
I took a step forward. She stepped back.
No fear. No guilt.
And then I understood.
She wasn't a pawn.
She was a distraction.
And the one truly playing against us… was still in the shadows.