The Silent Resistance

The group of friends—now operating clandestinely under the code name "The Resistance" (Kaito's dramatic suggestion)—met in the only place where Akama and his hall monitors wouldn't look for them: the abandoned greenhouse of the Gardening Club, behind the old gym.

The place smelled of damp earth and forgotten plants, but it was private.

"Alright, here's the situation," Ren said, smoothing a piece of paper over a table made of broken pots.

It was strange seeing Ren Ishida there. He wore his uniform impeccably, as always, but there were grease stains on his fingers and a determination in his eyes that Hina had never seen on the basketball court. He wasn't there to be the king. He was there to take down a tyrant.

"Akama is methodical," Ren explained. "I spent the morning watching his routine. He arrives at 7:30. Drinks black coffee, no sugar, from the teachers' machine. He does an inspection round at 10:00 to fine students for 'inefficient' behavior. And he spends the rest of the time locked in Principal Tanabe's office."

"Did he really take the soap out of the bathrooms?" Mei asked, horrified.

"From the boys' bathroom, yes," Kaito said grimly. "He said it was a 'redundant expense'."

Hina felt the ring pulse on her finger.

"What's the plan, Ren?" she asked.

Ren smiled, a sharp smile.

"Bureaucrats like Akama hate chaos. They thrive on order. If we want him to make a mistake and leave his computer unlocked or his planner exposed, we need to take away his order. We need to make him paranoid and frustrated. Hina, that's where you come in."

Hina looked at the silver ring.

"You want me to curse him?"

"I want small misfortunes," Ren said. "Inexplicable things. Shoelaces untying, papers flying, coffee spilling. I want him to feel like the universe hates him."

Hina frowned.

"There's a problem," she said. "I can't just look and make it happen. The rules of magic... I need a bond."

"A bond?" Kaito asked.

"'Direct Touch' or a 'Conductor'," Hina explained, remembering Haruto's notes. "To affect him, I would have to touch his skin, which is impossible without getting suspended. Or... he needs to be holding something that I have carried for at least 24 hours. Something impregnated with my energy."

Ren paused, thoughtful. He looked at Hina's shirt pocket.

"Do you have anything like that?"

Hina reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver metal ballpoint pen, heavy and cheap, but shiny.

"I've had this pen since yesterday morning," Hina said. "I've been spinning it in my fingers through every class to relieve anxiety. I slept with it under my pillow. It's 'charged'."

Ren nodded slowly.

"Akama has zero tolerance for 'distractions' in the hallway. If he sees you playing with that..."

"He confiscates it," Kaito finished, understanding the plan.

"Exactly," Ren said. "He confiscates it, puts it in his jacket pocket, and boom. You have your bond."

Hina squeezed the pen.

"Let's do this."

"Operation Chaos" began in the second-floor hallway.

Vice-Principal Akama walked with his clipboard, eyes scanning the corridors like a radar. The silence was absolute, except for the annoying, rhythmic sound of something clicking.

Click. Click. Click.

Akama stopped. His eyes narrowed.

Hina was leaning against the lockers, talking to Mei and Kaito. In her hand, the silver metal pen went up and down, clicking incessantly.

Akama marched over to them.

"Miss Yamada," he said, his voice cold. "You know that repetitive noises are considered a violation of the hallway silence policy. It interferes with academic concentration."

"Sorry, sir," Hina said, feigning innocence but clicking the pen one more time.

Akama held out his hand, palm open.

"I am confiscating that. You may retrieve it at the end of the semester. If you're lucky."

Hina deposited the pen into his hand. The contact was brief, but she felt the energy vibrate. Akama noticed nothing. He just took the pen and, as Ren predicted, slid it into the front pocket of his gray suit jacket, right next to his heart.

"Move along," he ordered, turning his back.

Hina exchanged a look with Ren, who was hiding around the corner. The target was marked. The "Conductor" was in position.

Hina focused her mind on the pen inside Akama's pocket. The connection was clear and strong, like an invisible wire linking the ring to the metal of the pen.

She looked at his Italian shoes.

The shoelace, she commanded silently.

Akama took a step. The knot of his left shoe came undone instantly. On the next step, he stepped on his own lace.

He stumbled violently, losing his balance. The clipboard flew from his hand, hitting the floor with a loud crack.

"What the hell?!" Akama shouted, losing his robotic posture.

Papers scattered across the floor. He bent down, irritated, to pick them up.

Wind, Hina thought, channeling magic through the pen on his chest. A draft.

The hallway window, which had been closed, unlatched itself and slid upward. A strong gust of wind blew in, catching the "Budget Cuts" reports and making them spin in the air like a white paper tornado.

"Close that window!" Akama bellowed, running after a chart that was flying toward the stairs, tripping over his loose shoelace again.

Mei had to bite the cuff of her uniform sleeve to keep from laughing out loud. It was the first time in days that the school hallway felt alive.

Throughout the afternoon, the pen in the Vice-Principal's pocket turned his life into a statistically unlikely hell.

In the cafeteria, when he went to taste the soup (to ensure it was cheap enough), Hina was sitting three tables away, focused.

The salt shaker lid, she thought.

Akama tipped the salt shaker over the soup. The lid came completely off. A mountain of salt poured into his bowl, splashing broth onto his tie. He stared at the ruined soup, incredulous.

Later, in the teachers' lounge, he tried to use the new economy coffee machine.

Ren gave the signal to Hina from the hallway.

Choke.

The coffee machine began to shake. With a sickly gurgling sound, it exploded a jet of hot grounds and dirty water. Since Akama was standing close, the filth hit his white shirt dead on.

He stormed out of the room roaring, his shirt stained brown, looking like he had lost a war against coffee.

"He's going to the bathroom to clean up!" whispered Mei, who was on lookout. "The office is empty!"

It was their chance.

While Akama desperately tried to clean his shirt with the cold water in the bathroom (since he had cut the hot water himself), Ren and Kaito slipped into the administration office. The secretary had already left due to overtime cuts.

Hina and Mei stood guard. Hina could feel Akama's irritation through the connection with the pen, a red static in her mind. She kept up the magical pressure: Let the soap slip. Let the faucet jam. Anything to keep him occupied.

Tense minutes passed. Finally, the door opened.

Ren and Kaito came out. They looked victorious, but scared.

"Let's go," Ren said. "To the greenhouse."

There, away from the eyes of cameras and monitors, they shared the discovery.

"The computer was locked," Ren said, unfolding a piece of paper he had hurriedly copied from Akama's physical planner. "But he writes everything down. The guy is too arrogant."

"And?" Hina asked.

"It's not just efficiency," Kaito said, furious. "It's profit. Look at this: 'Art Equipment Auction: Saturday.' 'Cafeteria Contract: Supplier B (Brother-in-law's Company).'"

"He gets a commission," Ren explained. "He cuts costs at the school, hires his friends' services, and pockets a percentage. He's stripping Nakamura High for parts and selling them."

"We have to report him!" Mei said.

"To whom?" Ren retorted. "The Board of Education loves him. He shows savings numbers. Without Principal Tanabe to challenge him, he is the law."

"Then we need Principal Tanabe," Hina said.

"She's in the hospital, Hina," Kaito sighed. "Nervous breakdown. It could take weeks. By then, he's already sold my easels and fired Mrs. Tani."

Hina looked at the paper in Ren's hand. There was one last note.

Send flowers (minimum budget) to Central Hospital, Room 302. Protocol.

Hina touched the ring on her finger.

"We're not going to wait weeks," she said.

The three looked at her.

"What are you going to do?" Mei asked.

"Akama has my pen," Hina said. "But Principal Tanabe needs something better. She needs healing."

"Healing?" Ren frowned. "The ring does that?"

"Health is a type of luck," Hina said, repeating the theory she had been formulating. "The luck of a body recovering quickly. If I can get to her... use Direct Touch... maybe I can speed up the recovery."

"Hina, that's risky," Ren warned. "Breaking into a hospital? And magic... messing with someone's life is heavy."

"It's the only chance to save the school," Hina said. "Tomorrow is Saturday. Akama will be busy with his illegal auction. We're going to visit the principal."

Kaito smiled, that defiant smile he had when he decided to draw something forbidden.

"The Resistance is going to the hospital," he said.

Ren sighed, but took out his phone.

"I'll check visiting hours and service entrances. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right."

Hina felt the weight of the decision. Healing someone. It was a step beyond anything she had ever done. If it worked on the principal... maybe, just maybe, it was the key to Haruto.

"Tomorrow, at nine," Hina said. "The group has a rescue mission."