The First Misstep
The sound of his alarm barely registered before Heizou reached out and silenced it with a lazy tap. His eyes remained shut for a moment longer, sleep still clinging to him, but his mind was already awake— already circling the same thoughts that had followed him into unconsciousness.
Teppei. The vial. The unknown substance. The growing tension between Watatsumi and Tenryou.
With a quiet sigh, he finally forced himself to sit up. His body felt heavy, not with exhaustion but with the weight of unfinished thoughts. He shook them off, running a hand through his messy hair before dragging himself out of bed.
A hot shower would wake him up. Probably.
Steam filled the small bathroom as he stood under the steady stream of water, letting it wash over him. His mind, however, refused to slow down. He leaned against the cool tiles, arms braced against the wall, watching the droplets collect and slide down in uneven paths.
The more he thought about it, the more absurd it all seemed.
A drug that didn’t exist. A death that had no clear explanation.
And the fact that it had happened during a school festival— an event meant to be lighthearted, filled with joy, now dimmed over a tragedy that happened so sudden, too sudden— made things more tense.
Heizou exhaled, shaking his head. No point in standing here thinking about it now.
He stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying his hair with slow, lazy movements. He pulled on his uniform, smoothing out the wrinkles absently before making a mental note to clean his room later. It wasn’t a mess yet, but if he left it alone for another few days, it probably would be.
With a long stretch, he grabbed his bag and headed out.
Tenryou's atmosphere had shifted.
It wasn’t obvious at first glance— students still walked through the halls, conversations still took place— but there was something different.
A tension just beneath the surface.
Some students acted like nothing had changed, chatting idly about their morning routines, their usual complaints about classwork, or what they were doing after school. But others? Others moved differently. Their shoulders set a little stiffer, their eyes darting a little too often toward their peers.
Suspicion.
Teppei’s death had left a mark, and the accusations that had followed hadn’t faded overnight.
Some students looked defensive. Others looked wary.
It was hard to say who was thinking what, but Heizou had always been good at reading people.
Not that he had the energy for it right now.
With his usual easygoing demeanor noticeably dulled, he made his way to class, dropping into his seat near the window.
The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, and Heizou had no interest in the pre class chatter.
So, as usual, he dozed off— eyes half lidded, head resting against his hand— gazing out the window, watching nothing in particular. His thoughts drifted, wandering through the mess of unanswered questions swirling in his mind. Even as he kept his gaze lazily fixed out the window, his brain was far from idle.
The situation wasn’t just strange— it was unnatural. A drug that professionals could not identify? A student with no history of substance use suddenly found dead, with physical evidence that he had taken it? And the fact that it had all happened during a festival, in broad daylight, in front of everyone?
There were too many pieces, too many gaps in the story.
He needed more information.
But from where?
The police were slow, and while the officer he’d spoken to was cooperative, he wouldn’t be getting answers from them for a while. Tenryou was under investigation, meaning any leads from inside the school were either locked down or clouded by paranoia. And Watatsumi? The students there were grieving and on edge— no one was going to talk freely.
Heizou let out a slow sigh, pulling out his phone.
He scanned through the same articles he had already read the night before. Nothing new. Just recycled information, speculation, and a growing number of opinions flooding the comment sections. Theories about Tenryou’s supposed involvement, arguments about whether or not it was an intentional attack, and the occasional voice of reason suggesting they wait for actual evidence.
He clicked his tongue, locking his screen. Useless.
Switching to his messages, he immediately noticed a pile of unread texts. Most were unimportant— some from students asking for his help with trivial things, a few from the detective agency he occasionally worked with. But at the top of the list, with an absurd number of notifications, was Kazuha.
Heizou raised an eyebrow and opened the chat.
And, of course, it was exactly what he expected.
[ Kazuha: I imagine you’ve already caught wind of the situation. ]
[ Kazuha: And knowing you, you’re already deep in thought about it. ]
[ Kazuha: There’s something unnatural about this, isn’t there? Even from where I stand, I can sense that the air has shifted. ]
[ Kazuha: Tensions between our schools have always existed, but this feels different. Heavier. More deliberate. ]
[ Kazuha: I suspect you’ll be searching for answers soon, if you haven’t begun already. ]
[ Kazuha: Tread carefully, Heizou. I have a feeling this mystery is far more tangled than it first appears. ]
[ Kazuha: ...If nothing else, at least confirm that you’re still breathing. Silence doesn’t suit you. ]
Heizou huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. Kazuha knew him too well. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but he didn’t type anything just yet.
His first instinct was to ask Kazuha to gather information. After all, he was a Watatsumi student now, wasn’t he? He had firsthand access to the people, the rumors, the whispers floating around campus. If anyone could get a read on how the students were handling things, it was him.
But something held Heizou back.
His intuition.
It wasn’t that Kazuha was untrustworthy— far from it. If there was anyone Heizou could rely on, Kazuha would be near the top of that list. But trust wasn’t the issue. Capability wasn’t the issue.
It was that Kazuha wasn’t enough.
Heizou didn’t just need vague information. He needed details. He needed someone connected, someone who didn’t just know Watatsumi but was woven into it. Someone who knew Teppei.
Kazuha had always been an outsider, even before he transferred. His presence at Watatsumi was accepted, but that didn’t mean he was embedded into the school’s structure. He wasn’t the kind of person who lingered in student affairs, who paid attention to the intricate web of relationships between classmates.
And besides… there was another reason Heizou hesitated.
Kazuha’s past. A wanted fugitive, once upon a time.
Not anymore— he was free now, his name cleared, no longer under Inazuma’s eye. But still, that history mattered. It meant that if things got complicated— if this case reached into official, legal matters— Kazuha’s influence would only go so far. He wouldn’t be able to intervene the way Heizou needed someone to.
Dragging him into this isn't an option. At least, not yet.
Heizou hummed to himself, resting his chin on his palm. Kazuha was right about one thing— he needed to tread carefully.
With that thought, he finally typed out a response.
[ Heizou: What, you thought I wouldn’t be alive by morning? I’m hurt, Kazuha. Truly. ]
[ Heizou: Relax, I’m fine. Just thinking. You know how I get when my mind starts running circles. ]
[ Heizou: You’re over there in Watatsumi, yeah? How’s the atmosphere? Still tense, or are people just exhausted at this point? ]
It was a casual approach, vague enough to avoid looking like he was fishing for information, but still open ended enough for Kazuha to share something useful if he felt like it.
Heizou sent the message, tapping his fingers against his desk as he waited for a response.
A few minutes passed before Heizou’s phone vibrated softly in his hand. Kazuha’s response had arrived, as smooth and carefully worded as always.
[ Kazuha: Tense would be an understatement. The weight of grief still lingers in the air, and I doubt it will lift anytime soon. Students mourn in their own ways.. some quietly, some with anger, some still in disbelief. ]
[ Kazuha: But the energy has shifted. It is no longer just sorrow that fills the halls of Watatsumi. Suspicion has taken root. ]
[ Kazuha: The festival grounds remain untouched, as if freezing the moment before tragedy struck would somehow keep the loss from sinking in. But even now, hushed conversations turn toward blame. Whispers of Tenryou’s involvement grow louder by the day. ]
Heizou sighed through his nose. That was expected, but still… annoying. He could already picture it— the slow, inevitable shift from grief to resentment. Once an idea like that took hold, it was hard to shake.
His phone buzzed again.
[ Kazuha: I would not be surprised if the administration attempts to intervene soon. Too many emotions left unchecked will only escalate the divide. ]
Heizou tilted his head slightly. That was an interesting thought. If Watatsumi’s leadership stepped in, it meant that even they were worried about where this was going.
And yet, where was Sangonomiya?
He still hadn’t gotten an answer for that.
Shoving that thought aside for now, he typed back.
[ Heizou: Figures. People don’t like questions with no answers, so they grab onto whatever makes the most sense to them. ]
[ Heizou: Still, it’s not like Tenryou’s just sitting here twiddling our thumbs either. We’ve got police combing through everything like we’re all running some underground operation. ]
He leaned back, debating if he should ask anything more direct. Kazuha was already being careful— if Heizou pushed too hard, he’d catch on to the fact that he was digging for specifics.
Instead, he kept it light.
[ Heizou: What about you? No one’s looking at you weird, are they? ]
It was an innocent enough question. A casual check in. If Kazuha was feeling the weight of the tension, he might slip some extra information without thinking too hard about it.
Heizou tapped his fingers idly against his desk, watching his phone screen as he waited. And of course, The reply didn’t take long.
[ Kazuha: No one has reason to look at me any differently. I have always been an outsider here, in one way or another. That hasn’t changed. ]
[ Kazuha: But I can sense it, even from the edges of these conversations. The wariness, the hesitation. It lingers in the air like a distant storm, waiting to break. ]
Heizou’s lips pressed into a thin line as he read. He could picture it perfectly. Kazuha wasn’t a direct part of Watatsumi’s inner circle, nor was he tangled in Tenryou’s. He existed in the inbetween, slipping through places without causing waves. But that didn’t mean he was unaffected.
The moment a school turned against another, neutrality became difficult to maintain.
His phone buzzed again.
[ Kazuha: I believe this is only the beginning. And something tells me you think the same. ]
Heizou let out a soft huff through his nose. Of course Kazuha would pick up on that. The guy had a way of reading people even when they were trying not to be read.
Still, Heizou didn’t want to drag him into this.
Not yet.
He kept his response short.
[ Heizou: Can’t say you’re wrong. But hey, I’m just a simple student, right? Nothing I should be worried about. ]
It was a joke. A weak one. Kazuha would see right through it. But before his friend could respond, the classroom door slid open.
The teacher had arrived.
Students shuffled into their seats, conversations quieting as the usual morning routine began.
Heizou clicked his phone off, slipping it into his pocket as he leaned back in his chair.
His eyes drifted back to the window.
His mind, however, was already moving forward. As the teacher droned on, Heizou’s thoughts wandered, his gaze unfocused on the window. His mind circled back to an idea he had dismissed earlier— something so absurd that even he had initially thought twice about it.
Sneaking into Watatsumi.
It was ridiculous. More ridiculous than asking Kazuha for help. More reckless than any other approach he could take. And yet, no matter how much he tried to brush it off, his intuition told him otherwise.
It was telling him it would work.
It always did.
Heizou had long since learned not to ignore his gut. It wasn’t just a hunch— it was an understanding, an instinct honed over time. He couldn’t explain it, but it had never led him in the wrong direction before. And right now, it was pushing him toward the one option that made the least amount of sense.
Watatsumi had low security. It wasn’t like Tenryou, where rules were strict and authority was absolute. The school was open, welcoming, built on trust rather than rigid enforcement. And trust came with gaps. Weak spots. Places where someone with skill could slip in unnoticed.
But if he got caught? That would be a different story.
Normally, sneaking into a neighboring school would just be a stupid stunt. A reckless prank. Something that earned you a warning, maybe a suspension if the administration was feeling strict.
But not now.
Not when a student had just died.
Not when tensions between Tenryou and Watatsumi were already on the verge of snapping.
If a Tenryou student— especially him— was found lurking around Watatsumi grounds in the middle of all this? It wouldn’t just be bad. It would be catastrophic.
Watatsumi students were already suspicious. They wanted someone to blame. And a Tenryou student sneaking around their campus, right after accusations of drug distribution had been thrown around? That would be all the proof they needed.
One wrong move, and he could ignite the situation.
Heizou exhaled slowly, fingers tapping idly against his arm. This idea was reckless. Dangerous. And yet, he was already thinking about how to pull it off. And If he was going to pull this off, he needed more than just a vague idea— he needed specifics.
The garden was the goal. That much was clear. But how to get in?
Heizou had been to Watatsumi once before, a long time ago for an interschool event. He barely remembered the layout, but he did remember one thing: Watatsumi didn’t have the same rigid structure that Tenryou did. Its boundaries weren’t lined with towering walls or security cameras— it relied more on natural barriers. Aesthetic over function.
The back entrance was the best option. Schools usually had them— gates used for deliveries, maintenance crews, or staff that needed to move in and out without passing through the main entrance.
The problem was timing. If there was even a single staff member around, he’d be caught immediately. And given the current situation, anyone spotting a Tenryou uniform on campus would be an issue.
His best bet?
Late afternoon.
By then, most students would be in their dorms or heading home. The festival was canceled, meaning there were no late night preparations or lingering crowds. It would be quiet.
And if his luck held, no one would be watching the garden.
Still, there were risks.
Heizou pressed a finger against his temple, running through the possibilities.
The biggest issue wasn’t just getting in— it was why. If he got caught, there was no excuse that would get him out of this cleanly. He couldn’t claim curiosity. He couldn’t pretend it was an accident. Which meant he had one option— he couldn’t get caught.
Simple enough.
Heizou’s smile returned, slow and lazy.
Now, all he had to do was wait for the right moment.
The late afternoon air carried a faint chill, the kind that signaled the slow approach of evening. The golden sunlight stretched across the pavement, painting long shadows as Heizou stepped outside of Tenryou’s gates.
His pace was unhurried, casual, but his mind was anything but.
The streets were quieter than usual. It wasn’t empty, not yet, but there was a noticeable difference. People moved differently— some slower, some in hushed conversation, some still carrying the weight of the morning’s news on their shoulders. Even those who tried to act as though nothing had changed couldn’t completely mask the unease settling over the city like an unseen fog.
Heizou turned a corner, slipping into a less crowded street.
From here, he could already map out the rest of the route in his head. A few more blocks, another turn, then down a path that would take him toward the back entrance of Watatsumi’s campus. The less obvious way in.
His plan was in motion.
And now, not quite the first time since the idea had lodged itself in his brain— realization hit him. Again.
This was a bad idea. Not just reckless, but incredibly reckless.
Sneaking into Watatsumi— especially now— was like walking straight into the jaws of a storm. It was already bad enough that Tenryou students were under heavy suspicion. The whole school was being investigated, scrutinized under the assumption that it had something to do with drug distribution. If he got caught, if even one person spotted him where he wasn’t supposed to be, it wouldn’t just be his problem.
It would be fuel.
Another reason for Watatsumi to turn against Tenryou. Another excuse for accusations to spiral further out of control.
The smarter choice would be to turn back now. To drop the idea entirely. To leave it to the police, let the investigation run its course, let the situation cool down.
Heizou exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck.
Yeah.
He could do that. But he wouldn’t.
Because deep down, past the logical reasoning, past the awareness of how stupid this all was, there was something else. Something louder. Something more persistent.
His intuition.
And it was telling him to keep going.
That there was something in Watatsumi he needed to see for himself. That this wasn’t just a case of a student getting caught up in something unfortunate.
That Teppei’s death was only the beginning.
Heizou picked up his pace, the decision now cemented in his mind.
If he wanted answers, he’d have to take the risk.
Because if there was one thing he had always believed— one thing that had shaped his entire path as a detective— to stop a crime before it happened.
And if he stayed still? If he let this case spiral without stepping in?
More would happen.
And he refused to let that unfold.
Heizou moved with quiet precision, his steps light as he approached the back entrance of Watatsumi’s campus. His posture remained casual— hands tucked loosely in his pockets, shoulders relaxed— but his mind was sharp, running through every detail of his plan.
It was straightforward, at least in theory.
Slip through the back gate. Get past the garden. Find Class Herring I.
The news articles had been careless, listing Teppei’s classroom as if it were just another trivial fact. That slip up worked in Heizou’s favor, but it didn’t solve the bigger problem— figuring out where the hell it was.
Watatsumi was a large campus, and unlike Tenryou, its layout wasn’t built for efficiency. The buildings weren’t arranged in a strict grid, nor did the pathways follow a predictable pattern. Everything was designed to be open and flowing, blending into the landscape rather than standing apart from it. It made for a beautiful environment, but it also meant that anyone unfamiliar with the school could end up wandering aimlessly if they didn’t know where to go.
And right now, Heizou didn’t have time to wander.
Still, there was one thing working in his favor—Teppei’s classroom had to be blocked off.
If the investigation was still ongoing, there would be clear signs. Caution tape, restricted access, something that marked it as a place students weren’t allowed to enter. That would make it easy to spot, even from a distance.
And as for the police?
Heizou had already made sure they were gone.
He had waited long enough, watching from afar as the last of the patrol cars pulled away. The staff had started moving more normally, no longer in the frantic state that came with an active investigation. For extra caution, he had even checked the parking areas to see if any unmarked government vehicles remained.
Nothing. Which meant he had a window of time to move.
But then, another thought surfaced.
Security cameras.
For the first time since stepping out of Tenryou, tension crept into his chest. People were easy to avoid. They got distracted. They could be misled.
Cameras? Cameras were harder.
If one caught him, that footage wouldn’t just disappear. It would exist indefinitely.
His eyes scanned Watatsumi’s exterior, noting every potential weak spot.
From what he knew, Watatsumi wasn’t heavily monitored, but it wasn’t completely unguarded either. It had cameras— but only where it needed them. One was positioned at the main entrance, high above the gates, angled to catch anyone walking in or out. That was expected.
But as he looked toward the back?
Just one.
The back entrance.
One camera meant one field of vision. And if he could figure out where the blind spot was, he could slip past without being seen.
Still, even if he managed to get inside, blindly navigating the halls would be risky. The less time he spent wandering, the better.
The best approach?
Find the classroom from the outside first.
If he could spot it before entering the school, he wouldn’t have to waste time searching once he was in. And once he found it? Well, windows weren’t just for decoration.
Just as the thought settled, his eyes landed on something that made his lips curl into a smirk.
A window. Marked with yellow tape.
There it was.
The window sat on the second floor, just high enough to make things inconvenient but not impossible.
Heizou’s gaze trailed downward, taking in the rest of the building’s structure before settling on something convenient.
A tree.
It stood close enough to the building that its branches reached toward the second floor windows, its trunk thick and sturdy from years of careful upkeep. Clearly meant to add to the school’s natural aesthetic, but to Heizou, it served another purpose— a perfect vantage point.
A way in.
If he could get to that tree, climbing up wouldn’t be difficult. He’d done more with less. The only concern would be avoiding attention while scaling it. Even though Watatsumi’s campus wasn’t strict when it came to movement, it wasn’t like students randomly climbed trees by classroom windows.
That would stand out. But that was a problem for later.
Right now, he turned his focus back to the back entrance.
His sharp eyes locked onto the camera positioned just above the gate, its lens directed straight at the entrance.
A direct view.
If it had been static, it would’ve been easy to slip around. But as he watched, he saw the lens begin to shift.
Slow. Deliberate.
The camera rotated, scanning the area before returning to its original position.
That confirmed it.
Rotating camera.
Not ideal, but expected. If anything, it was better than a stationary one— because rotation meant gaps.
Heizou took a slow breath, watching the movement carefully. The gate itself was wide— too wide for the camera to cover all at once.
That was his opening.
If he moved the moment the camera turned away, he could slip in undetected. The timing had to be perfect, but timing was something he was good at.
Then, there was the matter of other cameras.
If there were more stationed along the outer buildings, they’d likely be placed to monitor walkways or entrances. But those weren’t his immediate concern.
Because this was Watatsumi.
And Watatsumi loved its greenery.
Large shrubs, thick flowerbeds, vines carefully woven into stone pathways— it was everywhere. More than just decoration, it also served as natural cover. If he timed his entrance right, he could slip past the gate and move through the plants, keeping himself out of view.
The plan was risky. But every good plan had a little bit of risk. Well— this isn't exactly the greatest one, but it's at least something.
Heizou moved along the gate with practiced ease, his steps deliberate, his body kept close to the wall. He stayed within the shadows where the structure dipped inward, hidden just enough to avoid unwanted attention. His breathing was calm, steady, but his mind was already working ahead, sorting through the steps he needed to take.
He was near the entrance now. Close enough that, if he were reckless, he could have just sprinted for it and hoped for the best.
But that wasn’t an option.
From his current position, he could no longer see the camera.
And that was a problem.
Without knowing where it was facing, there was no way to tell if stepping forward would send him directly into its field of view. Heizou wasn’t the type to take blind risks. There was a difference between playing with odds and playing with stupidity, and right now, making a move without certainty leaned dangerously into the latter.
His intuition wasn’t urging him to run for it either. It wasn’t telling him to go now or stay put. It was quiet. Still.
That meant there was no immediate danger. But it also meant there was no clear opportunity yet.
Heizou’s fingers curled slightly as he weighed his options. He had gotten this far, but if he hesitated too long, his window would shrink. The longer he lingered, the more likely someone would notice him.
His gaze turned upward.
The wall surrounding Watatsumi wasn’t built like Tenryou’s.
It wasn’t meant to keep people out.
Rather than a towering blockade meant for security, it was decorative. A boundary meant to mark the school’s perimeter, but not necessarily protect it. And that made all the difference.
The stone surface had intricate chiseled designs running across it, ornamental carvings that weren’t exactly meant for climbing— but they’d have to do. Heizou had scaled worse before. The grip wouldn’t be ideal, but it would be enough.
Besides, time wasn’t on his side.
He needed to move. Now.
Taking a few careful steps back, Heizou drew in a quiet breath, then ran for it.
His foot hit the base of the wall first, giving him just enough momentum to push himself upward. His hands reached for one of the carved ridges, fingers tightening around the rough surface. The hold was shaky, but it was enough to lift himself higher.
With a well placed shift of weight, he swung himself over.
And promptly landed straight into a bush.
The branches rustled, leaves pressing against his uniform as he ducked lower on instinct. He barely had a second to recover before— footsteps.
Someone was nearby.
Heizou froze, muscles coiled, his breath held.
A Watatsumi student.
They had stopped walking.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Heizou stayed completely still, waiting. He could hear the faint shuffle of their shoes against the ground, hesitation in their movement.
Then, after a few seconds, they continued walking. The footsteps faded.
Heizou let out a slow, controlled breath, relief settling in his chest. He remained crouched, his breath steady as he assessed his surroundings. The plants lining the garden were dense, carefully arranged to add to Watatsumi’s natural aesthetic. But for him, they served another purpose— cover.
He moved slowly, carefully weaving between the thick leaves and decorative shrubs, keeping his steps light. Any sudden noise could be enough to draw attention. He was already pushing his luck by being here; he didn’t need to make things worse by being careless.
Still, there were a dozen things that could go wrong.
If he miscalculated a step and rustled the plants too loudly. If a wandering student happened to glance his way at the wrong moment. If, by some unfortunate chance, there was a security measure he hadn’t accounted for.
The thoughts tried to creep in, but he shoved them aside before they could settle.
Doubt wasn’t useful right now.
He needed to focus on what he knew.
And what he knew was that Watatsumi didn’t have cameras inside its classrooms. The articles had mentioned it briefly— an offhanded note about how, despite the school’s prestige, it didn’t have the same level of resources as Tenryou. Surveillance was minimal, and what little they had was stationed at entrances, not within student spaces. Meaning police couldn't fully track what Teppei had been doing.
But that also meant once he got inside, he wouldn’t have to worry about being caught on tape.
But getting inside was still the first hurdle.
Heizou’s eyes turned upward, locking onto the tree beside the building.
It stood tall, its branches pristine, well maintained. Leaves trailed downward in gentle cascades, blending seamlessly into the school’s polished environment.
It was sturdy. Climbable.
And more importantly, it was positioned just right.
If he approached from the side where the thickest leaves hung low, he could use them as cover while he climbed. He wouldn’t be completely hidden, but it would make him less obvious to anyone passing by.
He exhaled slowly, shifting his position. His muscles tensed slightly, readying himself. This was reckless. Absolutely absurd. But there was no turning back now.
Heizou moved quickly but carefully, gripping the tree’s trunk as he pulled himself upward. His hands found steady holds along the branches, his feet pressing against the rough bark to maintain balance. Years of moving through difficult spaces— chasing, sneaking, evading— had made climbing second nature to him.
Within moments, he reached the height of the second floor window.
So far, so good.
The ledge was within reach. Heizou tightened his grip, then leaped.
For a split second, he thought he might slip.
His fingers barely caught the edge, his body tilting slightly backward before his muscles tensed, steadying himself just in time. His heart didn’t even skip a beat. He adjusted his weight, shifting to keep his footing secure.
The window was lined with yellow tape, marking the room as off limits. Heizou moved carefully, making sure not to tear or disturb the placement. The last thing he needed was someone noticing a change before he was ready to slip back out.
Just as he was about to ease the window open—
A sharp yelp broke the silence.
Heizou didn’t flinch. He didn’t startle.
Instead, he slowly lifted his gaze.
And there, standing just inside the classroom, was Gorou. Watatsumi’s student council vice president. One of the few people Heizou had actually wanted to avoid.
Gorou had clearly been checking the room, likely inspecting the classroom’s condition after the investigation. His ears were slightly pinned back in surprise, his eyes wide as he stared at the Tenryou student who had just casually appeared on his second floor window.
This was stupid. Of course it was. He had thought of it over and over. Missteps were bound to happen. Heizou exhaled through his nose.
Shit.