A Liar's Truth [UNDER FINAL REVISION]

Ch 30: Earnest dedication

Third-person point of view 

The next day came quickly. This time, Terasaka took matters into his own hands—literally—by tying up the AI to stop her from firing off nonstop and turning class into another war zone. 

Finally, a moment of peace. 

With it restrained, the day rolled on much more productively—well, by Class E standards anyway.

And the light from Ginka's room blinked on again.

Karma leaned back in his chair, 3DS slipping from his fingers. His eyes drifted—lazy, practiced—to the window across from his. Not out of curiosity. Just habit.

There she was. Still hunched over her desk. Still not moving.

"She's been at it for hours," he muttered, one brow twitching up.

Across the gap, Ginka pulled her hair into a loose bun with both hands, elbows planted against the desk like pillars holding her upright. She stared at her open textbook like it personally offended her.

Karma's usual smirk faded slightly.

He remembered that conversation he'd overheard yesterday—right after he'd conveniently ditched cleaning duty.

"You speak like staying in Class E is a death sentence. But to me, leaving now would mean forfeiting the only victory that actually matters."

"They're the only ones holding me together—while the rest of you keep trying to tear me apart."

The late nights. The obsessive note rewriting. The way she tried to outrun shame with flashcards.

Karma stood up.

"You trying to die via osmosis," he called across the space, "or is that math problem bullying you harder than the system does?"

Ginka jolted like she'd just been caught shoplifting answers from the air.

"Miss me already?" she chirped, voice wobbling just a little before smoothing back into sugar-coated sass. "Sorry I can't give you the attention you crave tonight~ This final decides whether my little brother gets to say 'I told you so.'" She mimicked Gakushū's voice with annoying perfection, then giggled—A little too fast. A little too sharp. Like if she didn't laugh, she might scream.

Karma clicked his tongue. "Want help?"

What was he doing? He shouldn't care. It wasn't his problem. But for some reason... he did. And that felt stupid. Especially with someone like Ginka—who could read a room like a book and smile while setting it on fire.

She was good at people. Too good. And that it was more terrifying in a way he didn't like admitting.