Monday – Early Morning – Shizuoka, Japan
The school bell rang with its usual flat chime. Students filed in, their voices a chaotic chorus of greetings and half-awake yawns.
Ren Akihara walked through the corridor, clutching his schoolbag. His shoes made no sound on the polished wooden floor.
Class 2-3 hadn't changed. Same chalk dust smell. Same faded posters on the walls. But today, something felt different.
He reached his desk near the window.
A line of white chalk scribbled on its surface.
> "Know-it-all."
It wasn't harshly written. No violent strokes. Just… casual. Almost lazy.
Ren stared at it.
He didn't blink. Didn't touch it.
He sat down quietly.
---
At the front of the room, their homeroom teacher, Ms. Imai, began roll call. Her tone was warm but automatic. She didn't notice anything.
Haruto, from the neighboring building, wouldn't arrive until lunch break.
Ren reached into his desk, pulled out a handkerchief, and gently wiped the words away.
Not because they hurt him.
But because they were wrong.
He wasn't a know-it-all.
He simply knew.
---
At lunch, the schoolyard was alive with laughter and bouncing basketballs. Ren sat alone under the ginkgo tree, chewing silently through his rice balls.
Hinata Sakamoto approached. She didn't sit.
She stood in front of him, arms crossed.
"Why didn't you tell the teacher?"
Ren looked up. "About what?"
"You know what." Her eyes were sharp. "The chalk. On your desk."
"I erased it."
"That's not the point."
Ren tilted his head. "Then what is?"
Hinata clicked her tongue. She looked frustrated—at him, or at something else entirely.
"People don't like kids who are too smart," she muttered. "Even teachers pretend not to see."
Ren blinked slowly. "Is that bad?"
Hinata sighed. "You're impossible."
She left without waiting for an answer.
---
That night, Haruto found Ren sitting by the veranda, knees to his chest, watching the wind move through the trees.
"You didn't tell me someone wrote on your desk."
Ren didn't look away from the window. "It didn't matter."
"But it does," Haruto said.
Ren finally turned to him.
In the dim light, his expression was unreadable.
"Does it?"
---
Far away, in a place no child should have known…
a file with the name 'Core 06' was accessed again—
for the first time in four years.
---
> "Even if the world forgets who you are…
there will always be traces."