Lloyd's POV
Today was one of those days where everything felt... tolerable. The school's mundane atmosphere was a welcome change. Unlike the suffocating pressure of the Nursery, this place had a rhythm. A false sense of normalcy, but one I could entertain for now.
Beside me, Ichinose walked, her strawberry-blonde hair catching the light breeze. Neither of us spoke for a while, but the silence wasn't awkward. It was comfortable—almost too comfortable.
"Kanzaki is worried."
I turned to her. "About what?"
She pouted. "He doesn't approve of my methods."
I raised an eyebrow. "Your methods? Sounds devious. Should I be concerned?"
Ichinose frowned. "You know that's not what I meant, Lloyd." Then, softer, almost hesitant, "I'm not a bad person... right?"
I stopped in my tracks and faced her. "No, you're not. You're one of the most influential people in this school. Smart. Charismatic. You understand people in a way most don't. But I also see why Kanzaki disapproves."
She sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Can't help people just because you want to anymore, huh?"
I resumed walking, my tone thoughtful. "The world makes that difficult. Genuine kindness exists, but people are conditioned to distrust it. They assume everything comes with a price. And over time… even the most genuine person starts to believe that."
Ichinose considered my words, her expression unreadable. Then, she smiled faintly. "You have a good grasp on this, don't you?"
"Hanging around you, Kanzaki, and the others has taught me a lot." I let out a small chuckle. "This class has become something important to me."
Her eyes softened. A shared perspective. A reassuring connection.
"Yeah," she nodded, her voice lighter. "We're basically family in a way."
I glanced at my wristwatch. 3:39 PM.
"I'd love to continue this conversation, but I have somewhere to be." I met her gaze. "Why don't we go to the Pallet tomorrow? I hear they have a new menu."
Ichinose perked up, pulling a flyer from her bag. "I was just about to suggest that. Let's try it."
I gave a casual wave as we parted ways, but once I was alone, my steps slowed.
What useless behavior have I adopted?
I sighed, rubbing my temple. "I can't even hold a normal conversation without putting on a persona."
It wasn't manipulation—not entirely. But it was the same tactic the Nursery drilled into me. A habit I despise.
---
Karaoke Lounge – The Meeting
The Karaoke lodge was… unusually quiet.
The room should have been filled with off-key singing and bad song choices. Instead, the students inside sat silent, expectant—their gazes sharp, their movements deliberate.
Seated around the room were Whis, Nero, and Sienna. The door creaked open, and I stepped in, the air already thick with unspoken calculations.
Whis was the first to break the silence. "Took you long enough."
I adjusted my tie, settling into my seat. "Had things to take care of." My tone was measured, unhurried. "Now, shall we get to the point?"
Sienna's eyes flickered toward me, her expression composed but layered. There was something brimming beneath the surface—something unspoken.
Nero leaned forward. "Me and Whis have made some progress in uncovering the so-called 'masterpiece' of the White Room." He glanced at me. "I assume you'd be interested, considering the information you provided."
A week before the second hearing.
---
Flashback – Phone Call with Whis
Whis strolled down the walkway when his phone vibrated in his pocket.
Whis: "Hello?"
Lloyd: "Good evening."
Whis raised an eyebrow. "Pleasantries? That's unlike you."
Lloyd: "It's called common courtesy. Besides, I have something that might help uncover this 'masterpiece.'"
Whis's expression sharpened. "Go on."
Lloyd: "Ichinose mentioned something interesting. A student from your class—Sakura Airi. The one who was almost assaulted by that store clerk. She told me Ayanokoji Kiyotaka was there. Just… waiting for the right moment to intervene."
A pause. Then, Whis's voice turned sly. "That is strange. Almost like he planned for it."
Lloyd: "Exactly."
The call ended.
---
Present – Karaoke Lounge
I leaned back in my seat. "It was an unconfirmed variable. I simply relayed the data."
Whis smirked. "Yes, but it was valuable. With that info, I could move the second phase of my plan."
Nero tapped his fingers against his knee. "So that second video you sent to Sakura Airi… it wasn't random?"
Whis chuckled, stretching his arms. "Not at all. She's socially isolated. Shy. Hiding something. The video wasn't just bait—it was a mirror, showing her an escape from the perception she built for herself."
Nero nodded. "And you assumed Ayanokoji would notice her reaction in class after the incident."
"Exactly," Whis confirmed. "And, predictably, he took the bait."
Sienna, who had remained quiet, finally spoke. "You sound too sure of yourself." Her skepticism was apparent.
Whis met her gaze. "I laid the trap. He walked right into it. Helping her after the assault? That was his mistake. He overplayed his hand."
Nero smirked. "And that wasn't the only time you tested him, was it?"
Whis let out a disappointed sigh. "Vandalized his desk, tried to provoke a reaction… nothing. The guy's a damn robot."
Sienna leaned forward slightly, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "I'm interested in your setup, Nero. How exactly did you use Ryuen's plan as a front?"
Nero smirked, clearly enjoying the attention. "It started with a simple suggestion to Ryuen. He originally wanted to set the dispute in a special building, but his plan had some gaps. I pointed them out, and surprisingly, he actually listened. His real goal was to test how the school handles student conflicts."
Sienna nodded, prompting him to continue.
"I arranged for a handyman from the school's labor program—a low-rated student, someone easily overlooked—to carry out a task for me. I paid them a considerable amount of points, had them place a camera at ground level, and prepared a letter for 'Masterpiece' to conveniently run into."
"How could you be so sure he'd come to that conclusion?" she asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
Nero chuckled, his voice carrying quiet confidence. "Simple. I put myself in the mind of a genius. A White Room candidate—if he really is one—processes everything through logic and analysis. I left behind specific clues, just enough for someone like him to take the bait. My username, for instance. If he had any connection to the White Room, it would compel him to dig deeper. He wouldn't just investigate—he'd have to. His past being at stake made him predictable."
There was a brief silence as the weight of his words settled over the group. Then he continued,
"That's where Asuka Kuzo came in."
At the mention of the name, a few expressions shifted. Even Sienna's gaze darkened slightly.
"She played a crucial role in sealing the deal. I made sure she was the one who 'accidentally' gave away key details to Masterpiece—nothing too obvious, just enough to lure him further in. Her job was to let slip some information about the school's surveillance loopholes, feeding into the idea that I had exploited them. If he was truly as sharp as expected, he'd connect the dots and follow the breadcrumbs straight to the camera store. That was the final push he needed."
Sienna exhaled, understanding dawning in her expression. Then, after a pause, she muttered, "I see..."
A subtle shift crossed her face—something unreadable. "I've been working on testing his abilities myself," she admitted, though there was a hint of regret in her tone. "But it seems you've not only confirmed them—you've also exposed his identity."
Despite her words, her eyes flickered toward Lloyd, lingering for just a second too long. A silent thought formed in her gaze, unreadable to all but the most perceptive.
A spark of hope.
A new possibility.
Something was brewing.
And Lloyd, did he get the letter you wrote for him?"
I took a slow sip of my drink. "He did."
Sienna crossed her arms, tilting her head. "I still don't get it. How were you so sure he'd fall for this?"
Nero leaned forward. "Like I said, I got inside his head. White Room candidates operate on pure logic. They analyze every situation like an equation. So I left clues—just enough to trigger his need for control." He smirked. "And his past being at stake? That was the perfect leverage."
The room fell into silence.
The mission was complete.
The masterpiece was exposed.
Whis exhaled. "Well then. I suppose we're done here. We report back by the end of the week."
Sienna shifted slightly, then stated with finality, "We're all dropping out after that. Take notes."
A professional statement.
A closing remark.
But the tension in the room didn't ease. It thickened.
Whis, Nero, and Sienna had already moved on. They saw this as nothing more than another assignment, neatly tied up and finished.
But I hadn't spoken.
And when I finally did, my voice was cold.
"…And who gave you the right to decide my stay here?"
Silence.
A shift.
A crack in the perfect mission.
Sienna's gaze landed on me, sharp and questioning. There it was. That flicker of emotion.
Resentment.