The next day, as soon as Akira and Shouko entered the classroom from the back door, they noticed something odd.

Books—torn and discarded—were strewn across Shoya Ishida's desk, chair, and floor.

It was Shouko's first time seeing such a scene. Her pupils narrowed, and she murmured softly under her breath:

"…That's awful…"

From childhood to now, Shouko had always lived under Akira's quiet protection.

Because she could speak normally, people usually only reacted with surprise during first introductions. Once that passed, their interactions with her were no different than with anyone else.

Over time, her classmates rarely thought about her hearing condition. Some even forgot entirely that she was hearing-impaired.

And with Akira always nearby, things like exclusion or bullying never got close.

Several students glanced toward the door, then quickly looked away when they realized it wasn't Ishida entering. They returned to their conversations, their silence thick with indifference.

"Come on," Akira said, gently tugging Shoko toward her seat.

He wasn't surprised. After what happened yesterday, he had expected something like this. But that didn't mean he liked it—he just… didn't react anymore.

"Akira, do you think…" Shouko began after slipping her bag into her desk. "…do you think Ishida will act like he did yesterday when he sees this?"

She was thinking of how Ishida had lashed out, shouting on the podium.

Akira rubbed his chin, giving it some thought before shaking his head.

"Knowing him… yeah. At first."

Shouko blinked. "At first?"

Akira leaned on the desk, continuing matter-of-factly:

"The first, second… even fifth or sixth time, he'll fight back. But eventually, he'll stop. And every time he does, they'll push further."

Shouko frowned, clearly unwilling to accept that.

"That can't be right. I mean—what if we told Mr. Takeuchi?"

But she trailed off before finishing the thought. They both knew what kind of teacher Takeuchi was.

After they ran out of class the last time, he'd already shown he held a grudge against Ishida. It was more likely he'd quietly approve of the bullying.

Before the mood could drop further, a familiar voice called out:

"Shouko!"

It was Miyoko Sahara, arriving with her schoolbag slung over one shoulder.

Before Shouko could respond, Miyoko spoke up with a groan:

"I swear I got a shade darker yesterday, and my legs are still killing me…"

She dropped into the chair next to Shouko, massaging her thighs with dramatic flair.

Shouko quickly tried to cheer her up.

"You don't look any darker. You're the same as always—right, Akira?"

She nudged him with a knowing look.

"Yes, yes, absolutely," Akira replied halfheartedly, waving his hand before resting his head on the desk. He was too tired to participate—last night, thanks to his mom's strange behavior, he barely slept.

He'd even worried, for a fleeting moment, that she had some secret illness. Then immediately scolded himself for thinking something so unlucky and irrational—slapping his forehead to knock the thought away. Unfortunately, that also knocked away the last bit of sleepiness he had.

Miyoko ignored his robotic reply and touched her cheek.

"Really? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"Mm-hmm!" Shouko nodded sincerely.

Ding… ding… ding…

The class bell rang.

"I'm going back to my seat. Catch you after class," Miyoko said, heading off.

A few minutes later, Mr. Takeuchi entered the room, holding an ethics textbook. He walked up to the podium, but his eyes drifted toward the mess on Ishida's desk.

He glanced—briefly—at Akira, then shifted to Miki Kawai, and said flatly:

"Ishida's absent today. Kawai, assign someone to clean up the mess at his desk."

"…Ugh…"

Miki felt like slapping her past self for ever volunteering to be Class Monitor.

With Takeuchi staring her down like that, did she really have a choice? Anyone she picked would automatically become part of this cruel spectacle.

And worse, it would look like she was condoning it.

Finally, she sighed.

"I'll do it."

She stood up and began quietly cleaning up the papers, while Takeuchi, unbothered, nodded and returned to flipping through his book.

Akira barely gave the interaction a glance before turning back toward the window.

Outside, a flock of birds flew past the open sky, dark shapes against the light.

He watched them disappear into the clouds, then sighed quietly to himself.

Shouko, noticing how long he'd been staring, tilted her head.

"What's so interesting out there?"

Akira turned back to her, her expression full of joy and curiosity. He shook his head slowly.

"Nothing, really. Just… looking."

She accepted the vague answer and changed the subject.

"Did you hear what Mr. Takeuchi said right before class started?"

Akira scratched his head. "You mean the part about graduation photos?"

"Yep! Only one week left until graduation," she said brightly.

Shouko was about to move up to junior high. Just one week until she'd close this chapter. In ten years, she'd be out in the world, working, meeting people, building a life.

And yet, these months—filled with quiet class drama and not-so-quiet memories—were nearing their end. Most things that had happened hadn't involved the two of them, but they still felt the weight of time passing.

Shouko smiled.

"We'll be taking the class photo in the gym, right?"

Akira didn't see what the big deal was. Who even remembered their elementary school photos after a few years? Some people wouldn't even recall their classmates' names by then.

Still, before he could respond, Shoko added:

"I wonder if we're allowed to bring cameras. I want to take pictures with everyone."

Akira smirked. "Just ask Takeuchi. Should be fine."

He reached out to gently pinch her cheek. "Settle down—it's still a few days away."

Shouko immediately slapped his hand away with mock annoyance.

"We're still in the classroom. Why are you so handsy?"

She glanced around, relieved no one was paying attention, and then shot him a warning glare with those bright, expressive eyes.

Akira sighed.

Honestly… even if they hugged in front of the class, people would probably just pretend not to notice. And if they did? They'd forget about it tomorrow.

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POWER STONE!!!

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