The announcement of the inspection changed everything.
Before—
Practice had been about improvement.
About learning.
About making mistakes.
About slowly growing stronger together.
Now—
Every mistake carried weight.
Every lost objective felt heavier.
Every failed rotation reminded them of the same deadline.
Two weeks.
That was all they had before facing Ishika High.
Two weeks before the principal judged whether the Gaming Research Club deserved to continue existing.
Nobody needed to say it aloud.
Everyone felt it.
The atmosphere inside the clubroom reflected that perfectly.
The casual conversations from previous weeks had become noticeably quieter.
The joking still existed.
Kana still found reasons to laugh.
Hikari still argued whenever she felt like it.
Risa still buried everyone beneath percentages and statistics.
Kazuha still smiled warmly.
But beneath all of it—
There was pressure.
A pressure none of them could ignore.
"Everyone ready?"
Kazuha looked around the room after the custom lobby finished loading.
Five portraits appeared on the draft screen.
Ruko.
Side lane.
Fighter.
Kana.
Roam.
Risa.
Jungle.
Hikari.
Mid.
Kazuha.
Gold lane.
The lineup had become familiar.
Comfortable.
Even with Melodious occupying the jungle.
Ruko rested one elbow against the desk.
"...Let's see where everyone is."
The countdown reached zero.
The battlefield unfolded before them.
Immediately—
The familiar rhythm returned.
Minions marched.
Jungle monsters spawned.
The map came alive.
"Blue buff first."
Risa spoke quietly.
"Confirmed."
Kana replied.
"I'm invading after first clear."
"No."
Risa answered immediately.
"...Why?"
"The probability of success is thirty-three percent."
Kana frowned.
"...You really don't like fun."
"I enjoy winning."
"You sound old."
"I sound correct."
The game progressed.
Risa began her jungle route.
Melodious danced gracefully across the battlefield.
Her elegant animations almost hid how absurdly difficult the hero actually was.
Almost.
"...Beat."
Risa whispered.
Skill One.
Too early.
The passive disappeared.
"...Miss."
She calmly continued farming.
Skill Two.
Too late.
Passive reset again.
"...Miss."
Skill One.
Correct timing.
One stack.
"...Good."
Skill Two.
Half a second late.
Everything vanished.
"..."
"..."
"...Unfortunate."
Ruko sighed quietly.
She had improved.
That much was undeniable.
Compared to a week ago—
She no longer looked completely lost.
Her routing remained excellent.
Objective control continued improving.
Adaptive rotations had become frighteningly efficient.
Whenever an enemy attempted to invade—
She instantly altered her route.
Whenever lanes collapsed—
She rerouted without hesitation.
She never panicked.
Never froze.
Never stubbornly forced the original plan.
It was an instinct most professional junglers spent years developing.
Yet—
The rhythm.
The musical timing.
The very mechanic that defined Melodious—
Still refused to cooperate.
She wasn't losing because of poor decisions.
She was losing because music refused to obey mathematics.
Eight minutes into the match—
The team held a comfortable advantage.
Four thousand gold ahead.
First Turtle secured.
Outer towers destroyed.
Everything proceeded according to plan.
Until—
Kana saw an opportunity.
"Oh!"
Her eyes lit up.
"I got them!"
Without waiting—
She charged.
Straight beneath the enemy's middle tower.
Directly into four opponents.
"Hikari!"
She shouted.
"Follow!"
Hikari looked toward the minimap.
"...Kana!"
"What?!"
"I'm still clearing!"
"They're low!"
"No they're not!"
"They WILL BE!"
Kana committed anyway.
The enemy immediately turned.
Crowd control.
Burst damage.
Slow effects.
Kana's health vanished.
"..."
"..."
"...Retreat."
Too late.
Kana collapsed beneath the tower.
The shutdown gold appeared.
Immediately afterward—
The enemy secured Turtle.
Then Mid Tower.
Then invaded Risa's jungle.
Within less than a minute—
The four-thousand gold advantage had disappeared.
The match returned to even.
Silence filled voice chat.
Then—
Hikari exploded.
"KANA!"
Kana shrank slightly.
"...Yes?"
"What was THAT?!"
"They looked vulnerable."
"They were under THEIR TOWER!"
"I thought—"
"YOU DIDN'T THINK!"
"I did!"
"You absolutely did not!"
Kana crossed her arms.
"I believed."
"I DON'T NEED BELIEF!"
Hikari leaned toward her monitor.
"I NEED YOU TO WAIT THREE SECONDS!"
"They would've escaped!"
"They escaped ANYWAY!"
Kana opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"...Fair point."
Hikari buried her face in one hand.
"I swear..."
Kana pouted.
"You don't have to yell."
"I ABSOLUTELY DO!"
"You always yell."
"BECAUSE YOU KEEP DOING THIS!"
Kana pointed dramatically.
"You abandoned me!"
"I WASN'T THERE!"
"Exactly!"
"I CAN'T ABANDON SOMEONE I'M NOT WITH!"
Kana thought about it.
"..."
"..."
"...Also fair."
Ruko couldn't help smiling.
Somehow—
Despite everything—
Those two continued arguing exactly the same way every match.
Yet strangely—
The arguments no longer felt hostile.
They argued.
Then listened.
Then improved.
It was noisy.
Chaotic.
But healthier than before.
Meanwhile—
Risa quietly continued farming.
"...Passive reset."
"..."
"...Again."
Nobody even reacted anymore.
It had become expected.
The match entered its late stages.
Both teams regrouped.
Vision battles began around Lord.
Everyone focused.
Every decision mattered.
Ruko remained in the EXP lane.
His fighter hero pressured the side lane.
Creating space.
Watching the minimap.
Observing everyone.
A habit that never disappeared.
Even while playing—
He analyzed.
Positioning.
Vision.
Enemy cooldowns.
Teammate habits.
Everything.
Then—
Something unusual caught his eye.
Top lane.
Kazuha.
She had pushed the wave slightly farther than intended.
Three enemy icons suddenly disappeared.
"...Kazuha."
He immediately recognized it.
"They're coming."
"I know."
Her calm reply surprised him.
The next moment—
Three enemies emerged from the river brush.
Roamer.
Mage.
Marksman.
A perfect collapse.
Exactly the kind of coordinated gank that usually guaranteed a kill.
Kana noticed.
"Kazuha!"
"They're surrounding you!"
"Run!"
Hikari added.
"They cut off the river!"
Risa immediately checked timers.
"I cannot reach in time."
Ruko watched carefully.
This was bad.
Very bad.
No flash.
Ultimate unavailable.
No teammates nearby.
Any ordinary marksman—
Would already be dead.
The enemy mage struck first.
A large area-of-effect ability exploded beneath Kazuha.
She sidestepped.
Perfectly.
Not barely.
Not luckily.
Perfectly.
The skill missed by inches.
Immediately afterward—
The marksman fired a long-range stun.
Again—
Kazuha moved.
A tiny adjustment.
No wasted movement.
The projectile slid harmlessly past her shoulder.
Then came the roamer.
A blink engage.
Knock-up.
An initiation almost impossible to avoid.
Kazuha walked forward.
Not backward.
Forward.
Using the smallest opening possible.
The crowd control completely whiffed.
"..."
Ruko's eyes widened.
The room became silent.
Even Hikari stopped talking.
Kana stared.
Risa slowly lowered her headphones.
"..."
"..."
"...What?"
Three consecutive skill shots.
Three consecutive dodges.
Not through luck.
Through movement alone.
No dash.
No blink.
Just positioning.
Spacing.
Prediction.
Ruko couldn't take his eyes off the screen.
Because he knew Kazuha.
Better than anyone else on the team.
This...
Wasn't how she played.
Kazuha wasn't flashy.
She wasn't mechanically gifted.
She relied on consistency.
Discipline.
Safe positioning.
She won through stability.
Not impossible outplays.
Yet—
What he had just witnessed—
Belonged to a completely different level.
The kind of movement usually associated with professional marksmen.
Or high-ranking veterans.
The enemy hesitated.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Surprised.
Confused.
That hesitation gave Kazuha one final opportunity.
She dashed toward safety.
Only—
A fourth figure appeared.
The enemy jungler.
Waiting patiently.
Watching.
Predicting her escape route from the very beginning.
One precise dash.
One burst combo.
One execution.
Kazuha's health instantly disappeared.
Her hero collapsed.
Silence.
The kill announcement echoed across the battlefield.
For several moments—
Nobody spoke.
Then—
Kazuha smiled awkwardly.
"...I was close."
The cheerful remark felt strangely out of place.
Kana immediately responded.
"THAT WAS AMAZING!"
Hikari nodded.
"You dodged everything!"
Risa adjusted her glasses.
"I calculated approximately a six percent survival probability."
Kana stared.
"...You calculated that during the fight?"
"Correct."
"...You're terrifying."
Risa ignored her.
"Kazuha exceeded projected performance."
Ruko remained silent.
Still watching the replay in his memory.
The footwork.
The spacing.
The confidence.
Those weren't random movements.
They were deliberate.
Instinctive.
Beautiful.
The kind of movements someone developed after countless hours.
Or...
The kind hidden beneath layers of hesitation.
He looked toward Kazuha.
She had already returned to smiling.
Already laughing together with Kana.
As though nothing unusual had happened.
As though she hadn't just displayed mechanical skill that exceeded everyone's expectations.
Including her own.
Ruko narrowed his eyes slightly.
Something...
Didn't add up.
He had spent weeks observing everyone's playstyles.
He understood Kana.
He understood Hikari.
He understood Risa.
He thought—
He understood Kazuha.
Yet what he'd just witnessed...
Didn't belong to the timid, supportive marksman he had come to know.
It was only a brief moment.
Barely a few seconds.
But within those seconds—
Ruko had caught a glimpse of something hidden.
A level of instinct.
A level of mechanical precision.
A level of talent.
One that even Kazuha herself didn't seem fully aware she possessed.
And as the next teamfight began—
That single thought quietly settled into the back of his mind.
Perhaps...
The strongest player in the Gaming Research Club...
Wasn't necessarily the one everyone expected.
The image refused to leave Ruko's mind.
No matter how many times he replayed the match inside his head.
No matter how many times he reconstructed every movement.
No matter how many different explanations he tried to come up with.
The answer remained the same.
It didn't make sense.
Classes had already ended.
Most students had gone home.
Only a handful of clubs remained active around the campus.
Yet Ruko's thoughts never left that single moment during practice.
Three enemies.
Three skill shots.
Three perfect dodges.
Then—
The inevitable death at the hands of the enemy jungler.
To everyone else—
It had simply been an impressive play.
To Ruko—
It was something entirely different.
It was a glimpse.
A glimpse of a level Kazuha herself didn't seem to realize she possessed.
He rested his chin against one hand during mathematics class while absentmindedly staring at the notebook in front of him.
The equations written across the page blurred together.
His pencil remained still.
Instead—
His mind replayed the match.
Again.
And again.
And again.
"The mage cast first..."
He pictured the battlefield.
The enemy mage had aimed slightly ahead of Kazuha's movement.
Standard prediction.
Correct prediction.
The kind that usually connected.
Yet Kazuha hadn't reacted after seeing the animation.
She had moved before it.
Not a reaction.
A read.
"She predicted the prediction..."
Then came the marksman's stun.
Again—
She hadn't panicked.
She hadn't overstepped.
She had taken the smallest possible sidestep.
The kind that preserved movement options.
The kind professional marksmen practiced for hundreds of hours.
"Too clean..."
Then the roamer.
That was the part that bothered him most.
Most players retreated.
Some flashed.
Others attempted to fight back.
Kazuha...
Walked forward.
Not because she guessed.
Because she knew exactly where the hitbox would appear.
She had stepped into the only safe pocket available.
A movement requiring absolute confidence.
Absolute precision.
And complete awareness.
Ruko quietly muttered beneath his breath.
"...Impossible."
Not because nobody could do it.
Because Kazuha shouldn't have been able to.
Not yet.
He knew her habits.
He had spent weeks watching her.
She played safely.
Carefully.
Methodically.
She wasn't the type to gamble on impossible mechanics.
Yet—
Yesterday—
She had displayed instincts belonging to someone entirely different.
Someone far more experienced.
Far more dangerous.
"...Was it luck?"
The question sounded hollow even to himself.
No.
Luck happened once.
Not three consecutive times.
"...Then instinct?"
Maybe.
Some players possessed extraordinary natural instincts.
The ability to unconsciously read movement.
To predict patterns.
To feel danger.
But even then—
That level of precision...
He couldn't explain it.
The classroom bell rang.
Students immediately began packing their bags.
Conversations filled the room once more.
Ruko finally blinked.
Only now realizing the teacher had already dismissed class.
"...Ruko."
"Hm?"
His homeroom teacher smiled tiredly.
"I actually need a small favor."
"What is it?"
"The greenhouse."
Ruko tilted his head.
"The watering system is being repaired."
"Would you mind watering the plants after school?"
"...Sure."
"Thank you."
She smiled gratefully.
"I knew I could count on you."
Late afternoon sunlight filtered gently through the school's greenhouse windows.
The humid air carried the scent of soil and fresh leaves.
Rows upon rows of flowers lined wooden shelves.
Small vegetable plots occupied one side of the building.
Decorative plants stretched toward the glass ceiling where sunlight poured inside.
It was surprisingly peaceful.
Far quieter than the noisy Gaming Research Club.
Ruko carried a watering hose between rows of plants.
The steady sound of flowing water echoed softly.
Leaves shimmered beneath tiny droplets.
Flowers gently bowed beneath the weight of fresh moisture.
"...Not bad."
He actually liked places like this.
Quiet.
Simple.
No shouting.
No arguments.
No Kana diving towers.
No Melodious missing rhythm inputs.
Just silence.
After nearly thirty minutes—
He finished.
Turning off the hose, he stretched both arms overhead.
The campus had grown considerably quieter.
The sun had begun sinking toward the horizon.
Orange light painted the school buildings in warm colors.
Students had mostly gone home.
Only a few club activities remained.
As Ruko stepped outside the greenhouse—
Something caught his attention.
A faint light.
Second floor.
Gaming Research Club.
He stopped walking.
"...Hm?"
The light was unmistakable.
One of the computer monitors.
Still on.
He blinked.
"...Seriously?"
A small sigh escaped him.
"Kana..."
He rubbed his forehead.
"...She probably forgot to turn the lights off again."
It wouldn't even surprise him.
She had forgotten snacks.
Forgotten notebooks.
Forgotten USB drives.
Forgotten homework.
Forgetting the lights?
Entirely believable.
Especially today.
Practice had been canceled.
Kazuha had informed everyone during lunch.
The student council had scheduled an emergency planning meeting.
Without their captain—
The team had decided to postpone practice until tomorrow.
Meaning—
Nobody should have been inside.
"...Guess I'll turn them off."
The hallway felt strangely quiet.
Each footstep echoed against the polished floor.
Evening sunlight streamed through the windows.
Most classrooms had already gone dark.
The school felt almost abandoned.
Eventually—
He arrived outside the Gaming Research Club.
Sure enough—
Light escaped through the gap beneath the door.
"...See?"
He smiled to himself.
"Definitely forgot."
Ruko reached for the doorknob.
Twisted it.
"..."
It didn't move.
Locked.
He frowned.
"...Locked?"
That was odd.
The lights were on.
Yet the room was locked from the inside.
He tried again.
The handle rattled softly.
Still locked.
"...Hello?"
No answer.
Maybe someone was inside wearing headphones.
He knocked gently.
"Anyone there?"
Silence.
He waited.
Nothing.
"...Weird."
He placed one hand on the doorknob once more.
Giving it another firm twist.
The metallic click echoed through the empty hallway.
Then—
A voice.
Soft.
Familiar.
Coming from the other side of the door.
"...Just a minute."
Everything stopped.
The hallway.
The wind outside.
Even Ruko's breathing.
That voice...
His hand slowly froze on the doorknob.
His eyes widened.
His heartbeat echoed loudly inside his chest.
No.
That wasn't possible.
It couldn't be.
His mind rejected it instantly.
Because he knew that voice.
He remembered countless late-night ranked games.
Strategy discussions.
Arguments over hero drafts.
Victory celebrations.
Defeat.
Laughter.
He remembered every conversation.
Every word.
Every inflection.
That voice...
There was no way he could mistake it.
His lips parted unconsciously.
Barely above a whisper.
"...Mitsuru...?"
Behind the locked clubroom door—
The voice spoke again.
Closer this time.
Clear enough to erase every remaining doubt.
"Sorry."
Ruko stood completely motionless.
Unable to think.
Unable to breathe.
Unable to understand.
Because the voice he had spent years believing belonged only to memories...
Had just answered him from the other side of the Gaming Research Club door.