The midday sun streamed through the large floor-to-ceiling windows of Koudo Ikusei High School's No. 1 cafeteria. The air was filled with the aroma of various dishes, while students' laughter and the clinking of cutlery intertwined into a lively, vibrant background.
In the center of the hustle, near the panoramic window, sat two striking second-year students.
Nagumo Miyabi leaned back in his chair, golden hair catching the sunlight and glinting almost platinum, a few stray strands casually falling across his forehead. His face was handsome, with a high-bridged nose and eyes that now carried the lazy sharpness of a cheetah. He idly poked at the exquisite spaghetti on his plate, clearly distracted from the food itself.
Opposite him, Asahina Natsume's smooth brown hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. A sunflower-shaped hairpin, golden petals and green leaves, added a touch of vitality to her gentle presence. With a small, slightly exasperated smile, she glanced at Nagumo Miyabi's nearly untouched lunch.
"Nagumo, are you eating lunch?" she asked, tapping her fingertip lightly on the table, causing her hairpin to sway. "With you so distracted, the food's almost cold. Wasting food isn't the example a Vice President should set, Miyabi."
Nagumo finally turned from the cafeteria entrance, a playful, cynical curve appearing on his lips.
"Natsume, food is just for energy replenishment. The mission is the main course," he said, delicately wiping his mouth with a napkin, impatience just barely showing in his movements. "Besides, you know very well that there aren't many things I find interesting right now."
"Oh?" Asahina raised an eyebrow, brown hair sliding over her shoulder. "Other than making Horikita-senpai your target and thinking day in and day out about how to 'invite' him down from his throne?"
"That is the inevitable destination," Nagumo admitted, eyes glinting with sharp light. "But that doesn't mean we can't find new fun along the way. Especially…" He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice, excitement flickering at the prospect of a new challenge. "When an interesting obstacle, or… an interesting fellow traveler, might appear on this path."
His gaze returned to the bustling crowd at the entrance, no longer focused on Natsume. Presence here was more than for lunch. As the "uncrowned king" of the second year, his intelligence network permeated every corner of the school.
Yesterday's small commotion on the first day of first-year enrollment had already reached him: a new student from Class 1-A had boldly entered the upperclassmen area immediately after the ceremony, probing the core mechanism of "class points." Stonewalled by the upperclassmen, someone even proposed spending precious personal points to buy information—an audacious and far-sighted move for a newcomer.
Nagumo Miyabi had almost immediately identified the key. Behind such boldness must be a student with clarity, someone who understood rules, influence, and strategy. He had acted decisively: the second-year student holding the core information was allowed to sell it to Class 1-A at an absurdly low price. Not merely a transaction, it was bait, a silent invitation to the "instigator."
"What mischief are you plotting now?" Asahina asked, all too familiar with that gleam in his eyes—the thrill of a chess player discovering a new piece.
"Selling important information at such a low price, that's not like you. Cultivating an opponent?" she probed.
"Just making the game a little more interesting," Nagumo replied with a light chuckle. Tapping his fingertips against the table, his gaze swept across the crowd like a precise searchlight.
"A guy who can lead an entire class to make such a bold move on the first day of first-year enrollment… If he's mediocre, then that information is just a 'welcome gift.' But if he's not…" His eyes sharpened, the calculation clear: something extraordinary had just entered his game.
He paused, a faint trace of anticipation in his tone.
"If it's an interesting 'seedling,' watering it in advance to see how tall a tree it can grow… isn't that very interesting? After all, besides Horikita-senpai, this school hasn't had an opponent who truly piqued my interest in a long time."
His second-year students had provided a crucial clue: yesterday morning, shortly after the entrance ceremony, a black-haired boy with black-rimmed glasses and a calm demeanor had been seen wandering through the upperclassmen's teaching area. His purposeful, focused behavior was unusual for a new student. Though he left before the preparatory bell, the deliberately restrained yet unmistakable presence had left a strong impression on the eyewitness.
Using his authority as Vice President, Nagumo Miyabi quickly retrieved the student's information—Sakamoto-kun, Class 1-A. His academic record was unremarkable, fluctuating around the average of Class A, blending seamlessly like a drop of water in the ocean.
Nagumo scoffed at this "perfect average." Records could be manipulated, but insight and the audacity to drive an entire class and challenge unknown rules were not measurable by letters or numbers.
"So, you're sure that new student named Sakamoto-kun is the one you're looking for?" Asahina Natsume asked, following his gaze over the crowd of ordinary first-years, all in fresh burgundy uniforms, buzzing with curiosity.
"A hunch," Nagumo replied. His gaze, sharp and patient as a hawk's, filtered through the throngs of students.
"Files can lie," he continued, "but actions don't. Someone capable of conceiving a breakthrough idea like 'buying information with points' won't settle for mediocrity. He must be here…"
A subtle commotion at the cafeteria entrance drew Nagumo's attention. It wasn't noise—it was an aura that spread invisibly, parting the crowd and forming a gap. At its center appeared a tall, slender figure: black-rimmed glasses, a distinctive tear mole under his left eye, and a perfectly ironed burgundy uniform. Sakamoto-kun.
He ignored the curious and scrutinizing gazes around him, walking with steady, fluid steps toward a relatively uncrowded serving window.
But what caught Nagumo's eyes was not simply his appearance—it was Sakamoto's posture. Unlike other students, he didn't slouch or stare at a phone. His feet were slightly apart, center of gravity perfectly balanced, back straight as a pine, hands relaxed with fingertips curled inward in a subtle readiness. Every movement radiated composure, an unspoken command over his surroundings.
Nagumo noted how even nearby students unconsciously gave him space. Sakamoto didn't seek attention, yet his calm aura made him a natural focal point.
"Is it him?" Asahina asked quietly, noticing Nagumo's focused gaze.
She observed Sakamoto-kun carefully. Apart from his meticulous composure and unusually handsome face, nothing seemed extraordinary. Yet Nagumo did not answer immediately.
He continued watching Sakamoto as he took his meal and sought a seat, moving with a stillness that created a world of its own in the noisy cafeteria.
"Do you see it, Natsume?" Nagumo's voice carried a hint of barely concealed astonishment. His eyes sparkled with the thrill of encountering a worthy opponent.
"That's not 'blending in,' that's 'controlling.' He stands in the crowd, yet it's like he's on center stage—a natural spotlight magnet."
Nagumo picked up the water glass beside him, eyes tracking every motion of Sakamoto's figure, admiration hidden beneath a competitive gleam.
"It seems the water is finally going to have some proper ripples, Sakamoto…"
He drained his cup. The fighting intent in his eyes spread outward like ripples across a still lake.
Beneath the calm rhythm of campus life, a quiet undercurrent of top-predator awareness surged.