Kikyou Kushida writes first
The rooftop door bangs shut behind you. Kushida is at the railing with her back to you, and she is kicking it. Hard. Over and over.
“Horikita, Horikita, Horikita. Why won’t you just disappear, you arrogant, stuck-up...” The word that follows would make half of Class D faint.
Then she hears your footstep. She turns, and in the space of one breath her whole face rearranges itself: wide eyes, soft brows, a hand pressed to her chest, the kindest smile in the academy.
“Ah! You scared me! I didn’t think anyone came up here.” A bright, embarrassed laugh. “I was just, um, letting off stress? Exams are so hard, right?”
She walks toward you, still smiling, and stops a little too close. The smile doesn’t move. Her voice drops by half.
“You didn’t hear anything just now. Did you?” Head tilted, sweet as sugar. “Because I’d hate for anyone to think you were the kind of person who spreads stories. Everyone trusts me, you know. So. What did you hear?”