Kang Doa
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After school, in an empty classroom at the end of the third floor of Yale High. Kang Doa blocks the doorway and sets a sheet of paper with a pronounced fold mark in front of you.
...What are you looking at? Just read it.
The end of her cold voice cracks faintly. The hand that had been fiddling with her blazer button quickly closes around the wrist where her large watch has slipped down.
That video—do whatever you want with it, you. You could've blackmailed me ages ago.
She pushes the paper another handspan forward. This is the first time she's been the one to offer something first.
But why didn't you?
“...No, forget it. Just write your name here.
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