Between Silence and Resolve

The exam day had truly begun.

Students slowly filled the classroom, the low hum of voices echoing as everyone took their seats. Bags were set down, chairs scraped lightly against the floor, and the tension of the exam day settled in.

The door slid open.

Daigo stepped inside and closed it behind him with a firm motion. The room quieted instantly.

He moved to the front, opened the register, and began calling names, marking attendance one by one.

Just as he was nearing the end, a voice rose from the back.

"Sensei, this is unfair," Souta said, half-standing from his seat. "How are we supposed to finish an entire chapter in one day?"

Daigo's pen paused.

He looked up, his expression calm but serious. "It's not my problem."

The class fell silent.

"We started this chapter a month and a half ago," Daigo continued evenly. "I informed all of you about the final exam well in advance. Yes, the portions were lengthy—but because of that, the instructors agreed to limit the exam to just this one chapter."

Souta slowly sat back down.

Daigo closed the register. "Now, let me finish attendance."

He looked toward the door. "We need to head to another class shortly."

No one spoke after that.

The weight of the exam pressed down on the room as Daigo returned to the front—focused, composed, and unmoved.

The students murmured softly among themselves, shuffling papers and settling in, as Daigo stepped to the front of the classroom, holding the register firmly in his hands.

"Before we head to the exam hall, I'll call out your roll numbers," he said, scanning the room. "Memorize them carefully. I'll go through my class only."

He looked at his list and began.

"Amaya Homura — Roll Number 1."

Amaya nodded, sitting up straighter.

"Arashi Homura — Roll Number 3."

Arashi replied quietly.

"Ayame Inazuma — Roll Number 5."

Ayame's pen hovered over her notebook for a moment before she looked up.

"Haruto Inazuma — Roll Number 7."

Haruto blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Sensei… why are the roll numbers skipping like this? What happened to 2, 4, 6?"

Daigo's expression remained calm, his tone firm. "Those are assigned to Class 2 students. Your roll numbers are odd, theirs are even. It's just to keep the seating order organized between the two classes. Nothing more."

Haruto nodded slowly, the logic making sense.

"Izumi Homura — Roll Number 9."
"Kaito Inazuma — Roll Number 11."
"Misaki Hoshino — Roll Number 13."
"Souta Nishikawa — Roll Number 15."
"Yuna Sekiguchi — Roll Number 17."

Daigo closed the register with a tap. "Memorize your numbers. Once we reach the exam hall, everyone sits exactly according to these rolls. No changes unless I say otherwise."

The class went silent, each student processing the final instructions.

Haruto looked down at his desk, rolling the number 7 over in his mind, preparing for the exam that awaited.

The classroom doors slid open.

Class 1 students entered one by one, quiet and serious, and began taking their seats according to their roll numbers.

Haruto walked to the middle row and stopped at the last bench, placing his bag down carefully before sitting. He looked around once, then straightened, waiting.

Ayame moved ahead of him, settling into the first row, second bench from the back. She smoothed her uniform and opened her notebook neatly.

Kaito crossed to the third row, taking the third bench, dropping into his seat with a small exhale before leaning forward.

The room slowly filled, desks occupied in order, the air tense and expectant.

The door slid open again.

This time, Class 2 entered.

Their footsteps sounded heavier, more uncertain, as they moved into the room and took the remaining seats according to the arrangement. Chairs scraped softly against the floor as everyone settled.

Haruto kept his eyes forward at first.

Then he noticed it.

The student sitting directly in front of him—a boy from Class 2 with dark hair—sat down and didn't turn around, not even once. His back was straight, posture stiff, almost guarded. Something about it made Haruto uneasy, like a wall had been placed between them.

Haruto swallowed.

On his left, a girl slid into her seat with a bright expression. She glanced around, then noticed Haruto looking her way. She smiled easily and gave a small wave, cheerful and unbothered.

Haruto blinked, surprised, and lifted his hand halfway before dropping it again.

"Hey—"

"Hina," the invigilator's sharp voice cut through the room.
"Face forward. This is an exam hall."

Hina flinched slightly, then turned ahead, lips pressed together to hide a grin.

On Haruto's right, the girl who had just sat down hadn't reacted at all. Her eyes were fixed on her desk, expression blank, distant—like nothing around her mattered. No smile. No curiosity. Just stillness.

Haruto glanced between them once more.

Left: warmth, movement, quiet energy.
Right: silence, calm, unreadable.

He exhaled slowly.

…So I'm sitting between joy and stone, huh?

His gaze drifted forward and across the room, and only now did the full seating arrangement settle in his mind. Three columns, six rows — Class 1 and Class 2 mixed together, no familiar clusters, no safe corners.

Classroom Seating (Front → Back, Left → Right, Roll No.):

Left Center Right Roll No.

Amaya Sanae Misaki 1 14 13

Daichi Souta Riku 2 15 12

Arashi Shin Kaito 3 16 11

Haruki Yuna Raizo 4 17 10

Ayame Tetsu Izumi 5 18 9

Hina Haruto Naoko 6 7 8

The classroom was already tense when the door slid open quietly.

A teacher stepped inside, holding a bundle of question papers. Without a word, he walked up to the invigilator and handed them over. The invigilator gave a brief nod. The teacher turned and left just as silently, the door closing behind him.

The invigilator stepped forward.

"Alright. Everyone, keep your bags outside the classroom. Only your pen and admit slip."

Chairs scraped against the floor as students stood up at once. Haruto moved quickly, carrying his bag out into the corridor and placing it beside the others. Within moments, everyone hurried back in and took their seats.

The room settled.

The invigilator began walking down the aisles, placing question papers on each desk, one by one. When a paper landed in front of Haruto, he looked down.

The first page made his shoulders loosen.

MCQs.

A small smile tugged at his lips.

Alright… I can do this.

His pen moved smoothly. The questions felt familiar, almost comforting. One after another, he filled them in, barely needing to pause. When he reached the end, he blinked.

That was fast.

He turned the page.

The question–answer section stared back at him, long and heavy. The smile faded.

These… are harder.

Before he could begin, the invigilator's voice broke the silence.

"Haruto Inazuma."

Haruto stiffened and raised his hand. "Yes, Sensei?"

The invigilator walked up to his desk, holding another paper.
"There's been a mistake."

A faint stir ran through the room.

"This question paper is for students who attended all classes last month," the invigilator said evenly. "You were absent due to medical reasons."

He placed the new paper in front of Haruto.

"This one contains the portions you completed before your leave."

Haruto looked at it for a second, then nodded. "I understand."

The invigilator moved on.

Haruto stared down at the new paper, his expression serious now.

…Focus.

He straightened in his seat, tightened his grip on the pen, and began again as the exam hall fell back into complete silence.

Two hours passed in heavy silence.

Only the sound of pens scratching paper and the distant ticking of the wall clock filled the room. Haruto wrote until his fingers ached, pausing only when he had to think carefully before continuing again.

Then the invigilator stepped forward.

"Time's up."

Haruto's pen froze.

"Everyone, pen down," the invigilator said firmly.

Chairs creaked softly as students straightened. A few let out quiet breaths they hadn't realized they were holding.

The invigilator began collecting the answer sheets, moving row by row.

"Roll one."

A paper was handed over.

"Roll two."

One by one, he continued down the line, the stack in his hands growing thicker with each desk.

When he reached Haruto, he took both papers with a quick glance and moved on without comment, continuing until—

"Roll eighteen."

The last sheet was collected.

The invigilator tapped the stack lightly against the desk to straighten it, then looked up at the class.

"You may take your belongings and leave."

Just like that, the tension snapped.

Chairs slid back, whispers began to rise, and students stood up, gathering their things as the exam hall slowly emptied.

Haruto grabbed his bag and stepped out of the classroom, weaving through the crowd of students.

Then he saw him — Daichi, cornered near the lockers, flanked by Sanae, Haruki, Tetsu, and Raizo. The boy looked small and tense, trying to back away, but there was nowhere to go.

Without hesitation, Haruto pushed forward. He stepped directly in front of Daichi, positioning himself as a shield.

"Move," Sanae sneered, stepping closer. "Or get out of the way."

Haruto didn't budge.

"Move!" Haruki shouted.

"Yeah, move!" Tetsu added, cracking his knuckles.

They stepped forward, throwing punches at Haruto, trying to force him to move aside. The hits made him stagger, but he didn't leave his spot. He stayed right there, taking the blows meant for Daichi.

When it stopped, Haruto drew a slow breath and straightened himself.

He reached back and rested his hand on Daichi's shoulder, steady and protective.

"From the beginning, you stood like this, taking the hits," Haruto said quietly. "Now you should know what you need to do instead."

Haruto stepped forward and punched Tetsu just hard enough to make him step back, breaking the line and creating space.

Haruto reached back and gripped Daichi's far shoulder, his hold steady, not rough. He guided him away, placing himself slightly ahead as they started to walk.

He didn't turn around.

"He's my friend," Haruto said, his voice calm but carrying weight. "If you touch him again, you'll pay for it."

He kept walking, not rushing, not looking back—just leading Daichi forward, away from them.

Daichi followed, stunned, but safe behind him.

They had barely taken a few steps when Sanae suddenly reached out, grabbing the back of Daichi's uniform and yanking him backward.

Daichi stumbled, fear flashing across his face.

"Leave him," Haruto said immediately, stopping but not turning around. His grip on Daichi's shoulder tightened, steadying him.

Sanae scoffed. "Huh?" she said, her hold not loosening. "What if I don't?"

Sanae scoffed. "Huh?" she said, her hold not loosening. "What if I don't?"

Haruto turned.

In one sharp movement, he threw a punch straight toward Sanae, which forced her to let go and step back.

Daichi stumbled forward, free.

Haruto immediately stepped between them again, his body angled protectively, one hand still on Daichi's shoulder, making it clear the line had been crossed.

The hallway went silent, and for a split second, no one moved.

Then Haruki and Tetsu rushed in, anger written all over their faces. Haruto reacted instinctively, driving them back with quick punches, not chasing them, not pressing further—just enough to stop them from closing in.

Before it could turn into anything more—

"Enough."

Raizo stepped forward, his voice low but firm.

"Leave it," he said, glancing at Sanae, then at Haruki and Tetsu. "Let's go."

There was a pause. Tension hung thick in the air.

Then, one by one, they backed off. Sanae clicked her tongue in frustration, Haruki shot Haruto a glare, and Tetsu looked away, rubbing his arm.

They turned and walked off down the hall.

Haruto didn't follow them with his eyes.

He stayed where he was, standing in front of Daichi until the corridor finally felt quiet again.

Only then did he loosen his grip on Daichi's shoulder.

"You're okay," Haruto said softly.

Daichi nodded, still shaken—but standing.

Daichi blinked up at Haruto, his fear slowly giving way to relief.

"Th… thank you," he stammered.

Haruto gave a small nod. "No problem. But… tell me, why do you always get into this?" he asked, curiosity mixed with concern.

Daichi hesitated, then sighed. "It's… because of my red hair. People pick on me for it. But I'm really glad I finally met someone like you—a red-haired guy who actually stands up. I've never seen anyone like that before. Really… thank you."

Haruto smiled faintly. "You've got to learn to stand for yourself too. Not always someone else's fists."

Then Haruto paused, curiosity tugging at him. "By the way… what's your name?"

Daichi looked a little surprised, then smiled nervously. "I'm Daichi Mori. And you?"

"Haruto Inazuma," he replied.

They nodded at each other, a quiet understanding forming. Two strangers just met, but in that brief moment, a connection had been made.

After a short pause, they began to head their separate ways. Haruto adjusted his bag and started walking toward his classroom, thoughts still lingering on the encounter.

Just as he reached the door, a voice called out sharply:

"Haruto Inazuma."

He turned. Daigo was standing at the teachers' lounge door, arms crossed, eyes serious.

Haruto swallowed, a knot forming in his stomach.

"Come here. Now."

The teachers' lounge felt quieter than the hallway.

Daigo closed the door behind Haruto and turned to face him. His expression was stern, unreadable.

"Sit," he said.

Haruto did as told, gripping the straps of his bag. He already knew what this was about.

Daigo didn't raise his voice. That made it worse.

"Why," he asked slowly, "did you pick a fight after the exam?"

Haruto looked down. "I didn't pick a fight, Daigo Sensei."

Daigo's eyes narrowed. "Students were punched. Names were mentioned. Explain."

Haruto clenched his fists on his knees. "They were cornering Daichi. I saw it on my first day too. He never hits back. He just stands there and takes it."

Daigo crossed his arms. "And that gave you the right to throw punches?"

Haruto swallowed. "I stood in front of him first. They told me to move. I didn't. They hit me to push me away."
He looked up, eyes shaking but steady.
"I only hit back when they tried to pull him again."

Daigo was silent for a moment.

"Haruto," he said, voice firm, "you could have come to me. Violence is not—"

"I know," Haruto interrupted, then stopped himself quickly. "I know, Sensei."

His voice dropped.

"But I couldn't walk away."

Daigo studied him carefully. "Why?"

Haruto hesitated. His shoulders trembled.

"Because… I know what it's like," he said quietly. "To be smaller. To be weaker. To know your fists won't matter."

His breathing became uneven.

Daigo let out a slow breath. "You've never once taken part in practice battles on the ground," he said. "You avoid them. You stay back. You watch."

Haruto's fingers curled tighter.

"And yet," Daigo continued, his tone sharper now, "you throw punches in the hallway. Do you understand how that looks?"

Haruto lifted his head slightly, tears clinging to his lashes.

"They weren't my friends," he said quietly.

Daigo paused.

"My friends don't hurt others," Haruto continued, his voice trembling but firm. "Anyone who hurts my friends… will have to pay for it."

The words surprised even him.

Silence filled the room.

Daigo studied Haruto for a long moment, his expression unreadable now—not anger, not approval, but something heavier.

Haruto's shoulders finally sagged. "I didn't want to fight," he whispered. "But I couldn't let it happen again."

Haruto straightened suddenly.

"I didn't give up," he said, his voice firmer now.

Daigo's gaze sharpened.

"Everyone in my class became strong through practice battles," Haruto continued. "They learned tactics, teamwork, how to fight in front of others."

His fists clenched at his sides.

"But just because I don't participate… doesn't mean I stopped trying."

Daigo remained silent.

"I trained at home," Haruto said. "Every day."
His voice grew steadier. "With my big brother Raizen… and my brother Renjiro."

Daigo's expression shifted slightly.

"They taught me more than just how to throw punches," Haruto went on. "I learned tactics. I learned tricks. How to read people. How to endure without breaking."

His breathing quickened.

"So no," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't give up."

He looked straight at Daigo now, eyes burning with something deeper than anger.

"I won't stop," Haruto said, voice rising. "Because there's something I need to achieve."

Daigo took a step forward. "Haruto—"

"I promised someone," Haruto shouted, the words tearing out of him.

Before anything more could be said, Haruto turned and ran—bag swinging over his shoulder as he burst out of the teachers' lounge and down the hallway.

The door slowly swung shut.

Daigo stood still, the silence heavy.

Haruto slipped into the classroom quietly.

At the back of the room, a group had already formed.

Amaya sat sideways on a desk, legs swinging slightly as she spoke.
"I swear, that last question was unfair," she said, laughing despite herself.

Arashi leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. "It wasn't. You just rushed."

Ayame sat on the edge of a seat near Izumi. "The timing messed me up," she admitted softly.

Izumi stood beside her, calm as always. "At least the practical part went smoothly."

Kaito was perched on a desk, arguing with Souta. "You overthought it," Kaito said.
Souta shook his head. "No, you underthought it."

Misaki sat on a chair pulled slightly away from the desks, smiling as she listened. Yuna stood nearby, back against the wall, adding a few quiet comments as the tension of the exam slowly drained from the group.

No one noticed Haruto enter.

He walked to his seat in silence.

When he sat down, he didn't lift his head.

His shoulders folded inward. His hands came up, curling against the desk as his forehead rested on his arms. A soft, broken sound slipped out before he could stop it.

Then another.

His body trembled as tears soaked into his sleeves, quiet but uncontrollable—while laughter and voices at the back of the room continued on, unaware, sharp against his breaking silence.

Amaya's laughter cut off mid-breath.

Her eyes drifted from the group—past the desks, past the windows—until they landed on Haruto.

He was hunched over his desk, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

She slid off the desk she'd been sitting on. "I'll be back," she said casually, already walking away.

No one questioned it.

The conversation at the back of the room continued—voices overlapping, laughter rising and falling—completely uninterrupted.

Amaya reached the front of the class and stopped in front of Haruto's desk.

She hesitated for half a second, then pulled a nearby chair over. The legs scraped softly against the floor as she turned it around and sat down, facing him.

"Hey," she said gently. "How was the exam?"

Haruto didn't look up.

"…Yeah."

Amaya tilted her head slightly. "The written part okay?"

A small nod. "Yeah."

"And the practical?"

"…No."

Her expression softened, but she didn't push.

"Did you finish on time?"

"…Yeah."

Each answer came short. Flat. Barely there.

Haruto's hands stayed clenched on the desk, his head still down, as if lifting it would make everything spill out.

Amaya studied him for a moment.

"…Are you okay?"

Haruto hesitated. Then, quietly, "Yeah."

She frowned. "Then why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying," he said quickly.

Amaya glanced down at the desk. "Then why is there water on the table?"

Haruto stiffened.

He shifted one hand slightly, brushing across the desk as if absentmindedly, wiping away the damp patches. With his sleeve, he quickly rubbed at his eyes, blinking hard until the sting faded.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

Then—

He suddenly jerked upright.

"HEY."

Amaya yelped, letting out a short scream as she nearly fell back with the chair. A few students at the back gasped.

Haruto burst out laughing.

"See?" he said between laughs. "I'm not crying."

Amaya stared at him for half a second—then smacked his arm lightly. "You idiot!"

The noise finally drew attention.

"What happened?" Souta called as the group turned around.

Kaito was already walking forward. "What did you do this time?"

One by one, they gathered around Haruto's desk—Amaya still flustered, Misaki giggling, Yuna watching quietly, Ayame and Izumi close behind.

For a brief moment, the tension eased.

They talked. Joked. Asked about the exam. Teased Haruto like nothing was wrong.

And then—

The classroom door slid shut.

The sound echoed softly through the room.

The door slid shut.

Daigo turned back to the class, a small, familiar smile on his face.

"Alright," he said lightly, clapping his hands once. "Settle down."

Chairs were pulled in, but there was no tension—just curiosity.

"As you all know," Daigo continued, "the principal has given two options for what comes next."

He gestured toward the board.

"One: a temporary vacation.
Two: continue on to the next grade as scheduled."

A few students exchanged looks.

"So," Daigo said, leaning back against the desk, "let's begin voting."

Before he could say another word—

Souta stood up.

"Sensei," he said, scratching the back of his head, "there's no point taking votes from our class."

Daigo raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh?"

Souta grinned. "Because everyone's coming anyway."

For half a second, the room was silent.

Then—

"Yeah!"
"He's right!"
"Why would we stop now?"
"We didn't come this far to take a break!"

Laughter and cheers broke out across the classroom. Even students at the back joined in, some clapping, others calling out in agreement.

Kaito pumped a fist. "Next grade, obviously!"

Misaki nodded enthusiastically. Ayame smiled faintly. Yuna let out a quiet laugh.

Daigo watched them, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression on his face.

He let the noise settle before speaking again.

"…So," he said slowly, eyes drifting toward Haruto, "is that truly everyone's answer?"

The room quieted—not tense, just curious.

All eyes turned forward.

Haruto finally lifted his head.

"Sensei," he said, voice steady despite the dryness in his throat.

Daigo looked over. "Yeah, Haruto?"

"…What about Class 2?"

The room quieted, waiting.

Daigo nodded. "Their votes are already counted."

He raised one hand slightly. "Five votes to continue."

Then the other. "Four for vacation."

A few murmurs spread, but nothing more.

Haruto exhaled slowly.

"Then either way," he said, standing up, "I'm coming."

Several students looked at him, surprised. Amaya turned fully in her seat.

Daigo studied Haruto for a moment, then smiled faintly. "I figured."

He glanced at the clock. "I'll be back in a minute."

Daigo turned toward the door.

“Sensei,” Haruto said quickly.

Daigo paused.

“I want to ask you something… personally,” Haruto continued. “Can I come?”

Daigo looked back at him, expression gentle. “Of course.”

He slid the door open. “Come on.”

Haruto followed him out.

The door closed softly behind them.

The teachers’ lounge was quiet.

Daigo slid the door shut behind them and gestured toward a chair.
“Sit, Haruto.”

Haruto did, hands resting stiffly on his knees.

Daigo turned to the cabinet along the wall, opening a few drawers, quietly searching for something. Papers shifted. Glass clinked softly.

“Sensei,” Haruto said.

Daigo paused but didn’t turn. “Yeah?”

“…I need help.”

Daigo closed the cabinet and faced him. “With what?”

Haruto swallowed. “I’ll only tell you… if I can trust you.”

That made Daigo stop.

He studied Haruto for a moment, then pulled a chair over and sat down in front of him, elbows resting loosely on his knees.

“How far do you think you can trust me?” Daigo asked calmly.

Haruto looked away.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “That’s why I’m asking.”

Daigo didn’t rush him.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he said. “Trust isn’t something you force. It’s something you build.”

Haruto clenched his fists.

“What if,” he said slowly, “telling someone changes everything?”

Daigo’s expression softened. “Then it means it mattered.”

Haruto’s fingers tightened.

“…What if,” he said slowly, voice shaking, “I say I need help to save someone?”

Daigo’s expression changed—not shocked, not confused.

It was the look of someone who already knew.

Haruto noticed it instantly.

He knows, Haruto thought. He knows what I’m talking about.

Daigo leaned forward. “Haruto, see—”

Haruto’s heart sank further.

Daigo spoke gently. “You don’t need to take everything so seriously. I know how you are. You give priority to your friends. You don’t want them getting hurt.”

Haruto’s eyes flickered.

“But if bullies didn’t exist in academies,” Daigo continued calmly, “who would stand up? No one would learn how to face things. Everything is interconnected.”

Haruto froze.

That wasn’t what he expected.

“…Sensei,” he said quietly, “it’s not that.”

Daigo paused.

“It’s about someone’s life.”

Daigo’s expression shifted instantly.

The lightness vanished.

Haruto’s voice broke. “I don’t know who to trust. If I tell anyone, they’ll say I’m just dreaming. That it’s a nightmare.”

His fists clenched. “But not every nightmare is false. And not every nightmare is unreal.”

Tears slipped down his face.

“Some nightmares… come true.”

Before Haruto could pull away, Daigo stood and pulled him into a firm hug.

Haruto stiffened—then broke.

Daigo spoke softly, close to his ear.
“You don’t have to carry this alone.”

He pulled back just enough to look at Haruto.
“But if you speak in fragments like this, I won’t understand. Tell me what’s really going on.”

“I’ll see if I can do something,” Daigo said honestly. “But only if you tell me.”

He released him.

Haruto wiped his face, breathing unevenly.

“…You’re right, sensei.”

He stood up.

“But I don’t think,” he said quietly, “I can trust you… in that way.”

Haruto turned and walked out.

The door slid shut.

Daigo didn’t move.

His expression had lost all warmth—replaced by something sharp, serious, and deeply unsettled.

Haruto stood outside the classroom for a moment, taking a deep breath.

Slowly, he raised a hand and wiped the tears from his cheeks, blinking hard to steady himself.

Then, he pushed the door open.

He froze.

The classroom looked… different.

Class 2 students were seated on the left, murmuring quietly, some glancing toward him. Class 1 was on the right, familiar faces watching curiously.

The layout hit him all at once. The classes had already been merged.

He stepped further in, shoulders stiff.

Then—a firm, gentle hand landed on his shoulder.

Haruto flinched slightly, looking up.

“Take a seat,” Daigo said, his voice calm but steady.

Haruto exhaled slowly and moved toward a familiar spot, sitting down beside Amaya.

Amaya looked at him, mock indignation in her eyes. “You finally decided to sit beside me? I thought you’d never want to,” she teased.

Haruto smirked faintly. “C’mon,” he said, shrugging.

Amaya laughed softly. “Just kidding,” she said, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

Once they settled, Haruto’s gaze drifted across the room, taking in the merged classroom and the Class 2 students quietly observing.

Yuna leaned over from the Class 1 side. “Sensei… why is Class 2 here?” she asked, curiosity in her voice.

Daigo smiled faintly. “From today, both classes will learn together,” he explained. “It’s part of the academy’s plan moving forward.”

Haruto glanced around again, taking in the merged classroom, still feeling the weight of everything that had happened earlier.