Kozue would need his assistance. Their swelling numbers seemed to make him uneasy, and he didn't react well to having his anxiety pointed out. Sorting him out would come before dealing with the gigantic mess of an underclass before them. Once Kozue was soothed, perhaps they could recruit their fellow third year to impose some level of control over the group. The more chaotic they were, the more likely they were to be caught, after all.

[b] 12:00[/b]

His first assumption, as the underclassmen around him began dropping like flies, was that they'd collectively and improperly imbibed on some illicit substance to add to the excitement of the night. Shameful, but also an opportunity. There was value in it, so it had his attention.

"Tch," he grunted, but the rest of his reproach never followed. There were no more words as he slid off his bike and sunk to the ground.

There was only silence.

Silence and pain.