The hallway was bustling with students as they made their way to class. There was a nervous energy in the air, as whispers of a recent murder had spread like wildfire.

Among the sea of students was a figure who moved through the crowds with a calm ease, listening to the whispers and observing the surroundings with sharp eyes. This was no ordinary student, but a secret investigator, sent to investigate the murder.

"They still look so shaken up by what happened.." he thinks, walking pass the students quitely.

The rumours were ridiculous, and Scaramouche had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. They were based on wild speculation and circumstantial evidence at best. But he knew better than to dismiss them entirely.

"They are hopeless." He murmured to himself in slight annoyance as he manages his books in the locker keeping a neutral expression as he observed the students. He didn't want to give away his true identity as a secret investigator, after all.

Amidst the nervous crowds, he did not know you, the murderer is in love with him.