2:13 am.
Mizaki Kirazaka sat cross-legged on the silk duvet of her four-poster bed, the glow of her phone the only light in the principal's mansion.
The selfie she had taken outside Paulo's house was still open, his bedroom window a black rectangle above her smiling face.
She zoomed in on the glass, searching for a silhouette that was not there.
Stay away from my house.
His words from the field replayed in her mind, cold and final.
She had offered him everything, help, protection, herself, and he had stepped back like she was poison.
The memory stung more than any slap.
Her manicured thumb hovered over the group chat.
The others were asleep.
Perfect.
[02:14] Mizaki: He told me to stay away from him today.
[02:14] Mizaki: Like I am the threat.
[02:15] Mizaki: Do you know what he did before the bridge?
[02:15] Mizaki: He cornered a freshman girl behind the gym.
[02:15] Mizaki: She has terrified to come forward.
She attached a blurry photo, actually a still from last year's cultural festival, cropped to show Paulo's back and a random girl's shoulder.
Context was everything.
[02:16] Mizaki: Spread this. Quietly.
Marina and Shizuka were already typing. Good girls.
***
6:42 am.
Paulo woke to the sound of his front door rattling.
He was on his feet before his eyes opened, baton in hand, heart jack-hammering.
The rattling stopped.
A shadow passed the frosted glass, too small for Rin, too graceful for Shin.
He crept downstairs.
A pink envelope lay on the mat, sealed with a bright cherry-blossom sticker. Inside: a single Polaroid. Him asleep on his bed, taken through the window. On the back, in violet ink:
You cannot reject what already owns you.
He burned the photo in the sink, watching the plastic curl and blacken.
***
7:28 am, Sakura High Gates.
The rumours had metastasized overnight.
"Paulo grabbed her arm so hard it bruised."
"He threatened to throw her in the river if she told."
"He's been stalking girls for months before today; Miya was just the decoy all along and we didn't see this coming."
Paulo heard them in fragments as he walked through the gates. Heads turned. Phones rose like periscopes. A first-year girl saw him and ran.
He kept his expression neutral, but something inside him cracked, a hairline fracture in the ice he had frozen his emotions under.
***
8:05 am, Homeroom.
Mr. Yamada avoided his eyes.
The seating chart had been rearranged; Paulo's desk was now isolated by an empty ring of chairs, like a quarantine zone.
A note waited on his desk, folded into a perfect crane.
We know what you are.
He crushed it in his fist.
***
10:12 am, Hallway.
Mizaki leaned against the lockers, flanked by Marina and Shizuka.
Her pink hair was in twin tails today, innocent as candy floss.
When Paulo passed, she called out, loud enough for the corridor to hear.
"Careful, everyone. He bites."
Laughter rippled. Someone whispered, "Psycho."
Paulo's vision tunnelled.
The fluorescent lights buzzed like hornets.
He could feel the rumours crawling under his skin, burrowing into his skull.
***
12:30 pm, Cafeteria
He sat alone.
His tray was untouched.
Across the room, Miya laughed at something Rin said, but her eyes kept flicking to Paulo, calculating.
Alexis would not meet his gaze at all. Shin filmed him on his phone, smirking.
Then the whispers grew teeth.
"His parents abandoned him because he's violent."
"He beat his dog to death when he was twelve."
"He's got a kill list, check the group chat."
Paulo stood so fast his chair screeched. The cafeteria hushed.
He walked out, every step echoing like a gunshot.
***
1:15 pm, Rooftop
The door was supposed to be locked.
It was not.
Paulo climbed the emergency stairs, the baton tapping his thigh.
The city sprawled below, indifferent.
He pressed his forehead to the chain-link fence and screamed, soundless, mouth wide, veins bulging.
When he stopped, his reflection in a puddle showed a stranger with wild eyes and blood on his teeth, he had bitten his tongue.
They are lying.
But what if one person believes them?
What if ten?
What if the police?
His phone buzzed.
[13:17] Unknown: You are unravelling, My Paulo-Kun.
[13:17] Unknown: Sent a video.
The clip was 7 seconds: him on the rooftop, screaming at nothing.
Already uploaded to a burner account.
Caption: Sakura High's ticking time bomb.
He smashed the phone against the concrete.
Plastic shattered.
The screen spider-webbed but still glowed, mocking.
***
3:45 p. m, Empty Classroom, 3rd Floor.
Paulo sat in the dark, knees to chest, counting heartbeats.
The rumours had evolved:
"He'd been expelled from his last school for assault."
"He kept trophies, hair, jewellery, from his victims."
"Security cameras had caught Paulo lurking outside the other girl's dorms yesterday at 11 o'clock."
None of it was true.
All of it felt true now because everyone acted like it was.
He laughed, dry, cracked, too loud in the silence.
The sound scared him.
***
4:22 pm, Front Gates.
Mizaki waited by the cherry trees, alone.
Her blazer was unbuttoned, tie loose, the picture of contrition.
"Paulo," she called softly. "I am sorry. I just… I was hurt. I did not mean for it to go this far."
He stopped ten feet away.
The baton was in his sleeve, weight familiar.
"You did this," he said. His voice was gravel. "You wanted this."
Her eyes shimmered, real tears or crocodile, impossible to tell. "I wanted you to need me. Not… this."
She gestured at the school, the whispers still drifting from open windows, "Let me fix it."
He took a step closer.
The fracture in his mind widened, edges jagged.
"You don't get to fix me," he whispered, "You broke the wrong thing."
For the first time, fear flickered across her face.
***
5:01 pm, Paulo's House.
He did not remember the walk home.
The walls pulsed. The silence screamed.
He paced the living room, baton spinning in his hand like a propeller.
On the coffee table: the black notebook, open to the page of names.
Miya's was crossed out in red. Beside it, a new entry in shaking handwriting:
Mizaki. Method: Make her feel it.
He stared at the words until they blurred. Then he wrote another line, smaller:
What if I am the monster now?
The thought looped, louder each time.
***
11:47 pm.
The group chat, recreated on a new phone, exploded again.
[23:47] Mizaki: He threatened me at the gates.
[23:47] Mizaki: uploaded an edited audio.
The clip was Paulo's voice, distorted: "You broke the wrong thing." Edited to sound like a snarl.
[23:48] Rin: time to finish the job
[23:48] Shin: I know where he lives
[23:49] Miya: Wait. We need to be smart.
[23:50] Alexis: …he is not the same
Paulo read it with dead eyes.
Then he opened the burner app and typed a single message to the void:
[23:55] Paulo: Come find me.
He attached his address.
Send.
***
2:00 am.
He sat in the dark, baton across his lap.
Every shadow was a threat. Every creak was footsteps.
The fracture had become a chasm.
He whispered to the empty room, voice splintering:
"They made me this."
Outside, cherry blossoms drifted past the window like pink snow.
Inside, Paulo Satoshi waited, sanity a threadbare blanket, revenge the only warmth left.
The doorbell rang.
He smiled, teeth too sharp.
Let them come.