Chapter 3:
Murder in a Smile
The cafeteria buzzed with idle chatter, trays clattering and voices rising in a lazy afternoon hum. Ren Saeki walked among them like a shadow, unnoticed yet unwavering. The days since his return had been meticulous: observing, charting the social webs that tangled this school like invisible threads.
But today, a test.
He selected his seat with precision—near the center, visible, yet not inviting. A subtle challenge to those with inflated egos.
And right on cue: Kaito Hirose.
Kaito swaggered into the cafeteria, his group trailing behind like obedient dogs. His grin—too wide, too polished—dripped with the arrogance of someone who had never tasted consequence.
Ren knew this face well. In the past life, Kaito had been one of Akio's sycophants, a petty tyrant who had helped grind Ren down when the tides had turned.
Today, he would be made useful.
Kaito's eyes locked on him. A spark. An opening.
"Well, well," Kaito drawled, sauntering over. "Look who thinks he can sit wherever he wants."
The words were bait. Crude. Predictable.
Ren looked up slowly, meeting Kaito's gaze with an expression of cold disinterest. "And yet here I am."
Murmurs stirred. Nearby students glanced over, sensing tension.
Kaito's smirk faltered, just for a breath. "You've been getting cocky lately, Saeki. Thought you were some nobody."
"I was." Ren's voice was soft, almost bored. "But nobodies learn faster than fools."
A flicker of anger now. Good. Kaito's pride was a brittle thing, easily cracked.
One of Kaito's lackeys—Shun—stepped forward. "Watch it, man."
Ren tilted his head. "You speak out of turn." His gaze pinned Shun like a knife. "Or does Kaito need his dog to bark for him?"
There it was. The shift. The cafeteria quieted, eyes now fully on them.
Kaito clenched his jaw. "You've got a mouth on you."
Ren stood, slow and deliberate, tray in hand. His frame was lean, unimposing—yet in that moment, every movement radiated a strange, unsettling confidence.
"I speak only truth," Ren said, stepping forward. His voice lowered, a blade of words meant only for Kaito. "You've built your power on borrowed fear. But fear is… malleable."
He leaned in, so close that only Kaito could hear the next words:
"I will take everything from you. Not today. Not tomorrow. But soon. And when I do, it will be with a smile."
Kaito paled, a bead of sweat breaking at his temple.
Ren stepped back, tone casual once more. "Now," he said aloud, voice carrying through the room, "I'd advise sitting elsewhere. Before you embarrass yourself further."
The silence was suffocating.
And then—Kaito laughed. A sharp, brittle sound. "Tch. You're not worth the trouble."
He turned sharply, motioning for his group to follow, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.
Ren sat again, calm as still water. Around him, whispers bloomed like wildfire.
Mission complete.
A public strike, executed with surgical precision. Not brute force—psychological dominance. The seed of doubt was planted; the fear, now his to nurture.
Ren's fingers traced the edge of his tray, eyes distant.
"Murder in a smile." Fitting. Today's lesson had begun.