Inside Gogen-cho, Takumi and Itsuki drifted through the evening streets after leaving Komorebi. The distant hum of the city traffic provided a steady backbeat to the chatter of the crowds moving past them.
Itsuki walked with his hands locked behind his head, his posture tense with irritation as he shot a look at his best friend.
"So lemme get this straight," Itsuki started, his voice thick with disbelief. "This Binder power... they just decided to snatch it away? Just told you to stop usin' it 'cause it's supposedly too dangerous for everyone?"
He let out a sharp, dry laugh and shook his head.
"That's total garbage, man. You basically saved an entire district, and this is the thanks you get? They're treatin' you like you're the damn threat."
Takumi didn't seem bothered, his expression as unreadable and calm as ever. He shrugged and slipped his hands into his pockets.
"They're callin' it a confiscation, but that's not really the right word for it."
His gaze drifted toward the horizon, his tone remaining deceptively casual.
"It's more of a ban. I'm just not allowed to tap into it anymore. And if they catch me trying... they'll probably move forward with something a lot worse than a slap on the wrist."
Takumi seemed unusually unfazed by the whole thing. Despite clearly disagreeing with the Institute's call, he didn't look like a guy who was nursing a grudge; he just looked tired.
"It's honestly not as bad as it sounds," he said, his voice level and almost indifferent.
He kept his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the pavement ahead. "Lexa told me once that Binders can be manifested through your own Resonance... that they're shaped by your own will."
Takumi paused, his expression turning thoughtful for the first time. "And since I still can't fully control that thing anyway... I figured maybe I could try rebuilding it someday. Start from scratch and make something new—something that's actually mine."
He gave a small, self-deprecating shrug. "Obviously, that's a lot easier said than done. It's a long shot."
He let out a quiet breath, the tension leaving his shoulders as they reached the corner. "But for now... I should probably just focus on getting stronger and play by the academy's rules. No use fighting them until I've actually got something to show for it."
Their hangout ended sooner than expected, and by the time Takumi returned to the Coastal Dormitory, the evening air had already settled in.
That was when he suddenly remembered.
"…Right. The academy materials."
Takumi stopped in front of his dorm room door, resting a finger against his chin as he thought back on the day.
"I spent longer hanging out with Itsuki than I expected." A small sigh escaped him. "Didn't even have time to grab them."
He glanced toward the hallway window before looking back at the door.
"And the bookstore's probably closed by now. Guess I'll just wake up early tomorrow and get everything before class."
His hand reached for the doorknob, ready to head inside, but before he could open the door, a sudden voice interrupted the silence.
Takumi's hand paused on the doorknob.
At first, he thought the voice came from one of the nearby dorm rooms, but the sound carried from farther down the street outside the academy grounds. Loud. Passionate. Unfiltered.
Curious, Takumi stepped away from the door and walked toward the railing overlooking the lower avenue.
A man stood beneath one of the streetlights with a portable speaker at his feet, his coat fluttering slightly in the cold evening breeze. His voice echoed across the sidewalk as pedestrians moved past him with little interest.
"The CPA keeps feeding people the same lies!" the man shouted, pointing toward one of the massive digital screens mounted on a nearby building. "Every incident gets covered up, every distortion gets hidden, and all of you just accept it because they tell you to!"
A few people walking by visibly frowned.
"Here we go again…"
"Someone shut that guy up already."
"Another conspiracy freak."
Most ignored him entirely. Some purposely crossed the street to avoid him. One passerby muttered an insult under his breath while another recorded the scene on their phone like it was free entertainment.
But the man kept going anyway.
"You think they're protecting you?" His voice cracked slightly from how hard he was yelling. "Then why are disappearances increasing near unstable zones? Why are entire reports being erased?!"
Someone from the crowd laughed.
"Take your meds, old man!"
A couple of students nearby snickered before continuing on their way.
Takumi stayed quiet against the railing, watching the scene unfold below. He didn't recognize the man, but there was something strangely genuine about the desperation in his voice. Not organized. Not polished. Just… frustrated.
Like someone yelling because nobody else would listen.
The speaker crackled loudly before cutting out for a second, earning annoyed groans from nearby pedestrians.
The man hit the side of it with his palm. "You can ignore me all you want, but eventually the CPA won't be able to hide what's coming!"
Takumi exhaled quietly through his nose.
"…He's definitely causing a scene."
Almost everyone in the immediate vicinity openly rejected the narrative he was pushing, with a handful of people tossing out sharp jeers as they strolled past, while others casually threw crumpled wrappers and empty cups from various angles without even breaking their stride. Despite the overwhelming hostility and the degrading treatment, the man stubbornly pushed forward, straining his vocal cords in a desperate bid to force his message over the ambient hum of the city traffic and the mocking chatter of the sidewalk.
Eventually, however, the fickle crowd completely lost what little interest they had left.
The aggressive shouting gradually dwindled to nothing, the cruel insults from passing strangers grew faint and sparse, and the man's fierce protest slowly dissolved into a series of exhausted, breathless mutterings right beneath the flickering glow of the dim streetlights.
Only after the commotion had entirely died down did Takumi finally decide to step away from the railing and make his way down to approach him.
He brought himself to a halt just a short distance away, silently observing the disheveled protester for a quiet moment while dozens of late-night pedestrians continued to stream past them without offering the solitary figure a second glance.
"What are you doing?" Takumi asked plainly, his tone carrying a layer of genuine, unforced curiosity.
The man snapped his head up in slight surprise, looking entirely caught off guard as if he hadn't actually expected a single soul to willingly walk up and engage him in actual conversation.
"Curious, are you?" he said, letting out a dry, breathy chuckle. "I definitely didn't expect one of the academy's high-and-mighty scholars to come down here and talk to me."
Takumi casually slipped his hands deep into his pockets, maintaining his relaxed posture. "You were making enough noise for half the district to hear. It was kind of hard not to notice."
"Heh. And yet, notice is all anybody does. Nobody actually listens."
The man glanced bitterly around at the faces of the people brushing past them on the narrow sidewalk.
Some of the commuters avoided making eye contact entirely, fixing their gaze firmly on the pavement, while others glared at him with deep irritation, as though his mere existence on this corner had become a personal inconvenience to their evening commute.
Takumi's eyes drifted downward, noticing a freshly crushed paper cup resting right near the man's worn boots, along with various other bits of street trash scattered carelessly around his immediate space.
"You're getting treated pretty badly out here."
"That's just what happens when you start saying things people are terrified to hear," the man replied, offering a weak, indifferent shrug of his shoulders. "Most people would much rather live in complete denial and pretend everything's perfect than actually question the people running their entire lives."
Takumi remained perfectly quiet for a brief moment, processing the man's words before shifting his stance to speak again.
"You really believe the CPA is hiding something that big?"
The man's tired, bloodshot eyes instantly sharpened with a sudden flash of intensity.
"You don't?"
"That's not what I asked," Takumi responded flatly, his voice completely level.
"Smart answer."
A faint, cynical smirk crossed the man's face before vanishing into his weathered features just as quickly as it had appeared.
"The CPA controls absolutely everything—information, active investigations, distortions... they even manage public fear itself to keep everyone compliant," he explained, his voice naturally dropping to a lower, more serious register. "People vanish into thin air. Official reports disappear from the archives. Eyewitnesses completely change their stories overnight. And somehow, the public still labels anyone who finds that suspicious as a total lunatic."
A young couple walking close by scoffed loudly after overhearing a snippet of his explanation.
"Is he seriously still going on about that?"
"For real, that guy needs professional help."
The two of them walked off into the neon light, their shared laughter echoing back down the pavement.
The man silently watched their retreating backs for a second before exhaling a heavy breath through his nose.
"You see what I mean?" he muttered, looking back at Takumi. "Nobody gives a damn unless the fire actually reaches their own doorstep."
Takumi studied the stranger's face carefully, reading the subtle lines of stress and fatigue written across his features.
The guy didn't give off the vibe of someone who was inherently violent.
Honestly, he didn't even really seem angry anymore.
He just looked incredibly, profoundly tired.
"Then why keep doing this?" Takumi asked, his voice softening just a fraction. "If you already know that nobody is listening to a word you say."
The man went completely silent, the heavy weight of the question hanging in the chilly evening air for a brief moment.
Then, he slowly lifted his gaze toward the towering, brightly illuminated spires of the academy grounds gleaming against the dark sky in the distance.
"Because staying silent feels a hell of a lot worse."
"Even if ninety-nine percent of the crowd tunes me out, there's always that one person who actually stops. Case in point—you're standing right here," the man said, a faint glimmer of resolve returning to his tired face. "I just want people to open their eyes and realize that the government and these corporate agencies are built on a massive fraud." He let out a long, heavy sigh, turning his back to the street to face the dark horizon of the sea, loosely interlocking his fingers behind his back.
"I'm sure you've seen the coverage they're pushing on the news and the digital billboards lately. It's been happening for so long now, yet not a single soul inside the CPA seems to grasp how incredibly dangerous things are going to get the moment these distortions start bleeding into the daytime. The day is supposed to be the only peaceful hour we have left."
He shifted his weight, glancing back over his shoulder to eye Takumi's uniform. "Then again, you're from that elite academy up on the hill, aren't you? Most of you kids wouldn't believe a single word out of my mouth anyway."
But Takumi didn't push back. In fact, seeing someone else openly pushing back against the CPA's narrative was a welcome sight. "I don't disagree with you," Takumi said plainly, his voice steady. "I've seen firsthand how the CPA handles things on the ground. Personally, I haven't seen a single piece of evidence that makes me want to trust their word."
The stranger paused, the cynical edge completely melting from his expression as genuine curiosity and intrigue took its place. "Well, that is definitely a rare perspective. I've run into dozens of students who genuinely believe the CPA is some kind of holy guardian keeping this country safe, but you're definitely not cut from that cloth." He caught himself mid-sentence, shaking his head slightly with a polite, self-deprecating chuckle. "Oh, please accept my apologies. I'm standing here giving you a whole lecture and I haven't even introduced myself. You can call me Kaoru Shinomiya. What's your name, young man?"
"Takumi," he introduced himself quietly, his tone calm and steady even as a few more commuters glanced their way. None of the passersby actually lingered or showed any real interest, quickly losing themselves back into the flow of the evening traffic.
"That actually reminds me of something," Takumi murmured, tapping a thoughtful finger against his jawline as he looked up toward the looming campus buildings. "The Vanguard Institute doesn't really feel any different from the CPA, especially with all the strict rules and constant bureaucratic setbacks we deal with. Though, I honestly thought our school was completely off the public's radar. It's surprising to hear that anyone down here even knows it exists."
Kaoru nodded slowly, a knowing look passing over his weathered features as he stepped forward to clarify the details. "It makes sense why you'd think that. The vast majority of the public has absolutely no clue about the Institute because the government keeps it tightly wrapped under their network of specialized schools. It's really only the people who dig beneath the surface who manage to find out about it. Anyone who pays close enough attention to the minor news cycles knows about the recent tragedy involving your principal's death. But even with all that instability, I'd still wager the Institute is in far better hands than that completely backward agency."
Kaoru, however, decided that it was time to wrap up their encounter for the evening. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Takumi. It is genuinely reassuring to see that there are young scholars like yourself who care enough to think about the future of our society. I sincerely hope our paths cross again so we can continue this conversation."
Takumi gave a polite nod, a small, genuine smile forming on his face as a sudden, resonant feeling settled quietly deep within his chest.
The silent realization anchored itself deep in his consciousness. It was the manifestation of an immutable internal framework—a Fixed Ego shaped by his own will and strengthened by his conversation with Kaoru. It was the blueprint of a mindset that refused to be manipulated by the CPA's cognitive dampeners, a drive to look past the restrictions and seek structural truth.
The energy within him gave a faint, rhythmic pulse, settling into perfect synchronization with the newly awakened frequency in his heart.
Takumi let out a quiet breath in the dark room, a small smirk playing on his lips. He didn't have his old power anymore, and he still had to play by the academy's rules for now—but his Resonance was already adapting. He was already rebuilding from scratch.
To be continued...