The night before the plan went into motion, Kaito didn't sleep. Not because of nerves, but because everything felt too quiet. Like the world was holding its breath.
In the silence of his dimly lit room, Kaito sat cross-legged on his bed, the soft blue hue from his laptop bathing his pale face. Notes, timelines, names, screenshots his screen looked like a war map, not a student's project. But that's what this had become: war. Silent, psychological warfare. And he was finally done being the punching bag. It was time to become the fist.
Yuuki lay asleep on the other end of the room, curled on the mattress she had unofficially claimed ever since the scandal broke. Even in her sleep, she looked unsettled—forehead creased, fingers twitching. Trauma made itself known in the smallest movements. Kaito stared at her. The girl he once admired from afar. The girl who had been brave enough to speak to him when he could barely make eye contact. The girl who had stood by him when it was easier to run.
But Yuuki had her own darkness too.
And Kazuki—Kazuki was the black hole that had been swallowing them all.
Kaito's phone vibrated on the desk beside him. A single message from Haru:
"It's done. She took the bait."
Kaito exhaled slowly. Step one: infiltration. Haru, charismatic and disarming, had befriended one of Kazuki's close allies a girl named Reina. A quiet gossip queen with a knack for acting sweet while burning lives to the ground in her group chats. The plan was simple: feed her a convincing lie. Something Kazuki's ego couldn't resist.
The bait? A supposed apology message from Yuuki to Kazuki, begging him to "talk things out privately"—planted in a carefully manipulated email account linked to Yuuki's school address. The intention wasn't to hurt her. It was to draw Kazuki into the open. Force him to show his cards. Because monsters always reveal themselves when they think the game is rigged in their favor.
The next morning, the university buzzed with a low, electric energy.
Word had spread fast faster than they anticipated. There were whispers of a reconciliation between Kazuki and Yuuki. Someone claimed to have seen Yuuki crying outside the literature building. Someone else said Kazuki was seen deleting messages from his phone near the gym locker rooms. It didn't matter that none of it was true. What mattered was that the whispers had begun. The walls were listening.
Kaito walked the campus like a ghost with purpose. Silent. Focused. Invisible in plain sight.
His phone buzzed again—this time from Natsuki, one of the few people who had stayed by their side.
"He's heading to the café. Alone."
Exactly as planned.
The café was nearly empty when Kazuki entered. Noon sun streamed through the windows, casting golden shadows on the wooden floor. He wore his usual fake smile, polished shoes, and the scent of a man who always expected to win.
But this time, Kaito was already waiting.
Kazuki's smirk froze the second he saw him.
"You," Kazuki said, the word soaked in venom.
"Me," Kaito replied calmly. He stood slowly, placing a small USB drive on the table between them.
"What is this? Another sad-boy attempt to 'expose' me?"
Kaito leaned forward, voice steady. "It's your mask—rotting."
Kazuki snorted. "You think anyone will believe you? I've built my life on making people like you disappear."
Kaito smiled—an expression Kazuki had never seen on his face before.
"I don't need them to believe," he whispered. "I just need you to panic."
The door creaked. Haru entered, casually holding his phone. Behind him, Yuuki stepped in, followed by Reina. Then Natsuki. Then two more students. All quiet. All recording.
Kazuki stood frozen in the middle of the café like a character in a badly written play whose lines had suddenly changed.
Kaito pressed play on the tablet beside him. A series of voice recordings began to echo through the speakers—Kazuki's voice, clipped and cruel:
"She's desperate. All I have to do is pretend to forgive her, and she'll crawl right back into my bed."
Another clip.
"Kaito? He's a background character. Nobody listens to boys like him."
And another.
"Yuuki was always easy to control. You just need to give her attention, then take it away. She breaks like glass."
The room became stiller than death.
Reina gasped. Her phone slipped from her hands. Haru's jaw tightened. Yuuki… looked down, trembling.
Kazuki's face went pale. "This is illegal! You can't"
Kaito stood. "You're right. But leaking rumors, manipulating people, threatening students? Also illegal."
Behind him, Natsuki stepped forward, holding out her phone.
"This is a livestream. With over ten thousand viewers. And counting."
Kazuki's world collapsed in silence.
He stumbled backward, looking for exits that didn't exist. Reina, the last person who had believed in his charm, now stared at him like he was diseased. Yuuki, her eyes red but clear, finally stepped forward.
"You broke me," she said, her voice firm. "And I let you. But not anymore."
Kazuki tried to speak, but the words refused to come.
Outside, police sirens began to wail.
Later that night, as the university reeled from the scandal, the silence between Kaito and Yuuki returned not awkward, but reflective. Like two survivors looking out over the smoking battlefield.
"You planned all that," Yuuki said, sipping her tea.
Kaito nodded. "Had to."
"Did you ever… enjoy it?"
He thought for a moment. "No. But I needed to feel like I mattered. Even if just for a moment."
Yuuki looked at him. Really looked. "You matter more than any revenge plan."
Kaito blinked. "You really believe that?"
She smiled, soft and sad. "I have to. Or what was the point of all this?"
In the quiet, Kaito reached into his pocket and handed Yuuki a folded piece of paper. She opened it. Inside was a hand-drawn sketch of a boy and a girl sitting on a rooftop, backs to the world, surrounded by stardust.
He had titled it:
"Two Broken People, Still Breathing."