Classroom of Accomplices: The Honor Student Falls by Her Hand
At Shuubun High School, class 2-1, the class representative Murakami Hiroto plays the perfect honor student—kind to everyone and at the center of the classroom. But inside, he is falling apart from the chaotic class and his mother's suffocating control.
After a seat change, he sits next to Uchiyama Sara, a quiet, expressionless girl who is isolated from the rest of the class. One afternoon, when Hiroto mutters complaints alone in the classroom, Sara appears to retrieve a forgotten item. She giv
Classroom of Accomplices: The Honor Student Falls by Her Hand - In the rain, a world tinged with color
The rain was pounding against the window.
It had been falling for hours now. Kasumigahara City had been blanketed by thick rain clouds since evening, and the downpour was crushing every sound in the city into silence.
Corpo Himawari, Room 205.
Uchiyama Sara's room was far darker than usual. The curtains were drawn shut, and a small indirect light left on cast a faint glow over the corners of the room.
Murakami Hiroto sat on a thin cushion laid out on the floor, hugging his knees. His back was hunched, his chin resting on his knees, his eyes closed.
Beside him was Uchiyama Sara.
She leaned her head lightly against Hiroto's right shoulder. Her long, glossy black hair spilled over his upper arm down to his elbow. Hiroto was absently playing with the ends of her hair with his fingertips.
(*Ahh.*)
Hiroto let out a thin breath.
(*...I don't want to go back.*)
Until just moments ago, the owner of this room—Uchiyama's father, Tatsuya—had been here. But tonight he had a night shift at the supermarket and wouldn't return until morning. Uchiyama had messaged Hiroto. *"My dad's not here tonight. Want to come over?"* —That was all.
And yet, Hiroto had pedaled his bicycle through the rain, feeling his heartbeat quicken.
His breath was ragged.
His uniform shirt was soaked through.
But the moment he arrived in this room, none of it mattered anymore.
"...Hiroto."
Uchiyama quietly spoke.
"The rain today is incredible. We might lose power."
"...Yeah. It's really coming down."
Hiroto let out a small laugh, eyes still closed.
(*If the power goes out, it'll get even darker.*)
(*That's better.*)
(*No one will have to see us.*)
After that, the two of them fell silent for a long time.
Only the sound of rain filled the room.
The roar of wind slamming against the apartment walls. The distant sound of rain hammering on a carport roof. The sound of a downstairs neighbor opening their door. All of it felt far away.
Hiroto slowly took Uchiyama's hand.
Her hand was cold, as always. Even more so tonight, perhaps because of the rain.
Hiroto intertwined his fingers with her cold ones.
Uchiyama squeezed back, as if responding.
Their fingers laced together, one by one.
Ring finger, pinky. The pads of their thumbs gently traced the backs of each other's hands.
"...Cold."
Hiroto said it as if surprised.
"Yes. ...Always cold. Even in summer."
Uchiyama let out a soft laugh, her head still resting on his shoulder.
"...Cold, but warm."
"...Which is it?"
"Both. ...Because you're always hot, Hiroto."
Uchiyama let the fingertips of her free hand trail softly along Hiroto's wrist.
Cold nails. White fingertips moved slowly over his shallow veins, as if confirming something.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Hiroto's pulse was being picked up by Uchiyama's fingertips.
"...Are you counting my heartbeat?"
Hiroto gave a wry smile, slightly embarrassed.
"No."
Uchiyama shook her head.
"...I like this part of you, Hiroto. Because I can tell you're alive."
Saying that, Uchiyama brought her lips close to the inside of Hiroto's wrist.
At a distance where they barely touched, only her breath seeped warmly into his skin.
Hiroto swallowed hard.
(*This is bad.*)
His heart was racing.
Uchiyama's fingers could feel the change.
"...It got faster."
Uchiyama murmured.
"Shut up."
"...Hiroto, what were you just thinking about?"
"...You."
This time, Hiroto answered honestly.
Uchiyama's shoulders twitched slightly.
Then she slowly lifted her face.
In the dim room, Uchiyama's deep black eyes stared into Hiroto's. They were dark, quiet, and transparent—eyes that seemed to pull him in.
"...I was thinking about you too."
Uchiyama smiled faintly.
She made no sound. Only the corners of her lips lifted, just barely.
"This room—not school, not home—this is the only place I can breathe."
Hiroto said it, pressing his forehead against Uchiyama's hair.
"I like your room. ...It's too comfortable. Every time, I don't want to leave."
Hiroto's voice was self-deprecating.
"...Then you just shouldn't leave."
Uchiyama tilted her head slightly.
"...If only I could. That would be so much easier."
Hiroto let out a dry laugh.
"Nights like this, just the two of us—I wish they could go on forever. ...I really mean that."
"...I know."
Uchiyama placed her cold palm against Hiroto's cheek.
"You're weak, but you're always holding everything in. ...You don't have to push yourself so hard."
"...You really love stripping off my mask, don't you?"
Hiroto narrowed his eyes.
"I do."
Uchiyama said it without hesitation.
"...I like being the only one who gets to see the face of Hiroto that no one else has seen. ...When I think that I know a Hiroto that belongs only to me, it calms me, deeply."
Uchiyama's voice was so faint it nearly disappeared into the sound of the rain.
But Hiroto heard it clearly.
"...You really are a strange one."
"Yeah."
"That's what I like about you."
"...I know."
Uchiyama laughed softly again.
Hiroto pulled Uchiyama's slender shoulders into an embrace.
Her body was small and delicate. Hiroto held her gently, as if afraid of breaking her.
Uchiyama's head fit perfectly against his chest.
"...I can hear your heartbeat."
"...It's loud, isn't it?"
"No. ...I could fall asleep to just this sound."
Saying that, Uchiyama closed her eyes.
Hiroto closed his eyes too.
Rain. Heartbeat. Breathing. The rustle of clothes.
Everything mixed together, filling the room.
(*Time, stop.*)
He meant it from the bottom of his heart.
—*Ding-dong.*
The sudden sound of the doorbell.
Both of their bodies jolted at the same time.
"...Huh?"
Hiroto's eyes flew open.
His heart hammered—for a different reason than before.
"...Who could that be? A delivery?"
Uchiyama quietly sat up.
"...I'll get it."
Uchiyama moved toward the entrance.
"Wait."
Hiroto instinctively grabbed Uchiyama's wrist.
"...I'll go."
Hiroto's voice was low and tense, surprising even himself.
(*Why?*)
(*Why do I have such a bad feeling right now?*)
His chest was stirring with unease.
Hiroto slowly released Uchiyama's wrist and headed for the door.
His bare feet stepped onto the cold flooring.
He peered through the peephole.
It was dark outside. In the faint glow of the emergency light, a figure holding a black umbrella stood alone.
(*A woman?*)
Hiroto unhooked the door chain and turned the lock.
A click.
He slowly opened the door.
"—Hiroto."
Standing there was—
His mother, soaked from the rain.
Murakami Youko.
She held a black umbrella, but the driving rain had soaked her feet, her shoulders, her hair. Water dripped from the hem of her white blouse. The hand holding the umbrella trembled slightly.
"...What are you doing here?"
Youko's voice was low and hoarse.
Her large double-lidded eyes gleamed sharply in the darkness.
"Why... why are you—"
Hiroto was at a loss for words.
His mind went completely blank.
"I broke your phone, but the location data was still there. ...Ah, I see. So this is where that girl lives."
Youko looked past Hiroto's shoulder, into the room.
"...Is someone in there?"
"Mom, go home. ...I'll come home now. Please, just—"
Hiroto said it desperately, his hand still on the door.
"Move."
Youko spoke in a tone that allowed no argument, pushed Hiroto aside, and stepped into the room without removing her shoes.
"Wait—"
Hiroto's voice didn't reach her.
Youko scanned the dim room with sharp eyes, as if unable to look away from something.
The cushion on the floor. Hiroto's school uniform. Two half-drunk plastic bottles on the floor.
And then—
She spotted Uchiyama Sara, standing one step in front of Hiroto, as if shielding him.
"...You."
Youko's face twisted with hatred, visibly, rapidly.
"So you're Uchiyama. ...Dragging Hiroto into your room at this hour. Disgusting. ...How can you stand there with such a calm face?"
Uchiyama stared back at Youko, expressionless.
Her face was pale.
But her eyes did not waver.
"...I'm sorry for the intrusion."
Uchiyama bowed her head quietly.
"...You're Hiroto's mother, aren't you? ...I was just talking with Hiroto—"
Uchiyama's words were cut off.
The next instant—
A sharp *smack* echoed through the room.
Youko had slapped Uchiyama across the left cheek.
Uchiyama staggered.
Hiroto stopped breathing.
"Sara!"
Hiroto tried to rush to her.
"Don't come!"
Youko shrieked.
"You stay quiet! ...This is all—all of it—your fault! You seduced Hiroto, a child from a filthy home like you! You stole my son from me! You ruined everything!"
Youko's voice trembled so much it was impossible to tell whether she was crying or raging.
"...I never tried to steal Hiroto—"
Uchiyama gently touched her slapped cheek.
"Shut up!"
Youko reached out to grab Uchiyama by the collar.
Her fingers were about to close on Uchiyama's shoulder—
When Uchiyama let out a soft laugh.
Quietly. Clearly.
"...Rather than the fake Hiroto you created, Mother—"
Uchiyama slowly wiped the blood seeping from her reddened lips with the back of her hand, and declared:
"The Hiroto right now is far better."
For an instant, all sound vanished from the world.
Hiroto felt as if time had stopped.
"...You little—!"
Youko's rage reached its peak.
She lunged, reaching for Uchiyama's collar.
"Stop!"
Before he knew it, Hiroto was shouting.
His body moved on its own.
Hiroto grabbed Youko's wrist with all his strength.
And then—he pushed back.
"...Ah—...Hiroto...?"
Youko looked up at Hiroto.
For the first time, a flicker of shock appeared in her large eyes.
Hiroto's hand was trembling violently, shaking with the tremors running through his entire body.
His teeth were chattering.
His breathing was shallow.
The first direct defiance against his mother in his entire life.
Tears welled up.
But Hiroto did not look away from Youko's eyes.
"...I'm done being what you tell me to be."
Hiroto's voice was low and trembling, but it rang clearly through the room.
"I choose for myself. ...I choose Uchiyama. I'm not your doll anymore."
At those words, the strength drained from Youko's body.
The hand that had been gripping Hiroto slowly let go.
"...Hiroto..."
Youko's lips moved faintly.
The next moment—
Youko collapsed to her knees on the spot.
"Uu... uuu... uwaaaaah..."
A wrenching cry filled the room.
Her carefully styled hair and makeup fell apart as Youko wept aloud like a child.
"Hi-Hiroto... Hiroto... please... don't go... don't leave me alone... don't abandon your mother... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, everything was for your sake... I loved you, I was just worried... Hiroto, please, come home... don't leave me behind..."
Tears, saliva, and snot smeared across her face as Youko clung to Hiroto's feet.
She looked neither like a ruler nor a mother.
"...I'm sorry."
Hiroto said quietly.
"I've... already made my decision."
Saying that, Hiroto squeezed Uchiyama's hand.
"Let's go, Sara."
"...Yeah."
Uchiyama squeezed back, hard.
Her hand was cold and small as always, but it had the strength to pull Hiroto up.
The two of them dashed out into the rain.
Outside, the rain was far heavier than before.
No umbrella.
Soaked uniforms clinging to them, the two ran through the downpour in the dark streets.
"Hiroto!"
Uchiyama raised her voice for the first time, calling out to him.
"This way! The station's close!"
"I know!"
Hiroto shouted back.
The rain made it hard to see ahead.
Water splashed up from the asphalt.
Lightning struck nearby.
For an instant, the world flashed white.
At the same time, a deep rumble shook them to their core.
And then, as they ran, they laughed.
Uchiyama first.
"...Heh... hehe..."
Uchiyama burst out laughing.
She, who usually laughed without making a sound, was laughing out loud.
"Hehe... haha... ahahaha..."
Her laughter was swallowed by the rain, but it definitely reached Hiroto's ears.
"...Heh... haha... what are you laughing at?"
Hiroto's own
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