He observed the people in the classroom, his eyes devoid of curiosity—only carrying a cold, detached sense of recording.
"Snort."
Ryūen let out a low laugh, glancing toward the now–empty space outside the window. The eraser snapped back into his palm.
"Which organization sent these spies? Why are they in such a hurry to gather intelligence?"
He withdrew his gaze, his expression darkening slightly.
"They're putting on quite a show."
He ignored the figure who had disappeared at the end of the corridor, but quietly engraved that face into his memory.
The noise in Class D was like a palette overturned—colors splashed everywhere.
Some students were loudly arguing about which club to join, others were engrossed in reading, and pieces of chalk bounced between the desks as someone played with them.
Horikita Suzune sat away from the noise, frowning, alone by the window. She flipped through the "Essentials" booklet, her back straight as a ruler—until a shadow fell across the page.
She looked up.
Outside the window, Sakamoto stood silently.
He held nothing in his hands; his arms hung naturally at his sides, his posture relaxed yet perfectly upright.
He tilted his head slightly. His gaze, like a gentle sweeping light, slowly passed over every face in the classroom.
When it swept over the laughing students, it held a faint tolerance;when it brushed past lonely students in the corner, it seemed to show even more understanding;and when it fell upon her face, it lingered for the briefest moment.
Horikita felt a subtle sense of being examined—not unkindly, but with a penetrating focus that made her unconsciously sit even straighter.
"Ayanokouji-san,"
She turned slightly to the person beside her, lowering her voice.
"That person outside the window…"
"The one from the bus."
Kiyotaka Ayanokouji replied calmly, his gaze also fixed outside.
He remembered that figure—the boy who created a makeshift seat for the elderly woman using umbrellas that morning.
At this moment, that same boy was gazing deeply into Class D.His eyes were sharp yet calm—not hostile, but as if he were painting a meticulous portrait.
He paused slightly when his gaze met a few students with arrogant or sly expressions. His brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, then he moved on, as though assessing something.
Horikita pursed her lips, her fingertips tightening around the pages of her book.
"What is he doing? Memorizing faces?"
"It's more like he's creating preliminary profiles."
Ayanokouji's voice was flat as he watched Sakamoto's eyes move.
The figure outside the window completed his "pilgrimage" of observing Class D.
As he shifted his gaze away, he seemed to give a small nod toward the classroom—a silent farewell.
Then he turned to leave, the gentle curve of his coat hem slicing through the air cleanly, like a knife cut—carrying a strangely quiet beauty.
Even after Sakamoto left, the atmosphere in Class A had not fully relaxed.
Sakamoto's remarks about "points" and "worthwhile" were like a pebble dropped into a still lake—the ripples continued spreading.
Katsuragi Kohei remained seated, his brow furrowed, fingers tapping lightly on the desk.
Is 100,000 points really just for living expenses?Sakamoto said, "Use it where it's truly worthwhile"…Does the point allowance carry a meaning beyond just buying things?
"Inextricably linked to collective honor and disgrace…"
He repeated Mashima's and Sakamoto's words in his mind, trying to connect the underlying rules.
Although Sakamoto's behavior was unusual, it always seemed to point toward something important.
Hashimoto Masayoshi, on the other hand, looked excited.
He leaned toward the window, gazing in the direction of the upperclassmen's building, eyes shining.
"Hey, Sakayanagi,"
He turned with an eager grin toward the silver-haired girl.
"Do you think Sakamoto-kun threw that paper airplane on purpose, all the way toward the upperclassmen's building? Was he hinting at something? Like the answer is down there?"
The more he thought about it, the more reasonable it sounded.
"Should we go have a 'friendly chat' with the seniors? Maybe we can get some inside info about the point system?"
Sakayanagi Arisu sat upright. When she heard Hashimoto's theory, she turned slightly, a faint, amused smile appearing.
"Hashimoto-kun's idea is quite interesting."
Her voice was soft, clear.
"Since Sakamoto-kun spent so long staring out the window… perhaps he truly is observing the upperclassmen."
First-Year Enrollment: Chapter 006: Sakamoto's Purchasing
Sunlight streamed through the large windows of the school store, illuminating the dazzling array of goods lining the shelves.
The student store at Advanced Nurturing High School was as large as a small department store.The air carried the scent of new merchandise mixed with a faint sweet fragrance.
Kiyotaka Ayanokouji pushed a shopping cart, his gaze calmly scanning the shelves.
He picked out a few basic necessities—towels, toothbrushes, laundry detergent—all mid-priced, practical items. Compared to his 100,000 monthly points, these expenses were tiny, but thriftiness was ingrained in him.
"Another annoying coincidence."
A cold voice spoke nearby.
Ayanokouji turned.
Horikita Suzune stood by the next shelf, posture straight as always. She shot him a brief, cool glance before looking away, as if even acknowledging him longer than necessary was a waste of time.
She held a bottle of unscented, colorless basic shower gel. In her basket were the cheapest toothbrush and a plain white towel.
Don't be so defensive toward me.
Ayanokouji spoke in a flat tone.
"We'll be deskmates from now on. Please take care of me."
He paused, his gaze falling on her low-priced items.
"Even though we spoke in class, I never learned your name."
He looked at Horikita.
"Would it be alright if you told me your name?"
Horikita's eyes remained fixed on the shelf. Her fingertips traced over the rows of shower gel bottles before finally stopping on the cheapest, colorless one. She picked it up, her voice still cold and sharp:
"It's okay if I refuse, right?"
"You sit next to someone but don't know their name."
Ayanokouji's tone remained utterly calm, as if pointing out a simple fact.
"That's a bit strange."
Horikita paused. She seemed slightly taken aback by the blunt, almost clumsy remark. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly, clearly thinking her deskmate was not very good at speaking.
After a brief silence, she answered coldly, as though carrying out an obligation she could not avoid:
"Horikita Suzune."
With that, she ignored Ayanokouji and placed the bottle of shower gel into her basket.
"Horikita…"
Ayanokouji repeated the name quietly. It seemed to share the same surname as the student council president, Horikita Manabu. This information flashed through his mind, but his expression remained unchanged.
His gaze drifted over the few rather "shabby" items in Horikita's basket.
"Anyway, since we're already at the checkout…"
Ayanokouji picked up a beautifully packaged bottle of fragrant shower gel from the shelf and handed it toward Horikita.
"Why not try buying a more expensive one? It's a good chance to experience a different feeling."
His tone was still calm, as if presenting an objective suggestion.
Horikita didn't even spare a glance at the bottle he held. She simply pushed her shopping cart forward and turned away, her voice cold enough to freeze the air:
"There's no need for that."
She walked straight toward the cashier, her burgundy school uniform swaying behind her with an air of quiet stubbornness.
Ayanokouji watched her back for a moment, then looked at the fragrant shower gel still in his hand. His expression unchanged, he returned the bottle to the shelf and pushed his cart toward the checkout line.
A short queue formed before the register. Ayanokouji stood a few steps behind Horikita, letting his gaze habitually sweep the surroundings. At that moment, a figure near the store entrance caught his attention.
Sakamoto.
Ayanokouji's eyes sharpened slightly. After seeing him outside the windows earlier, he had made a few inquiries—Class 1-A.
Now, Sakamoto was walking calmly into the store.
He wasn't pushing a cart or carrying a basket; his hands hung naturally at his sides, his posture relaxed as if taking a quiet stroll.
He was still dressed in that perfectly fitted burgundy uniform, and behind his black-rimmed glasses, his gaze drifted across the entire store as though he were appreciating an elegant exhibition.
Ayanokouji found himself watching him unconsciously.
Rather than choosing from the variety of goods displayed on the shelves, Sakamoto walked straight toward the far corner of the store, to a small, unremarkable area with a few plain shelves. The items placed there were extremely simple—some even crude. A sign hung above them:
Free Area
Ayanokouji recalled reading in the "Key Points Handbook" that the school provided a small selection of free basic necessities—the cheapest, simplest, and most limited items.
Sakamoto stopped in front of the free section. Without a hint of hesitation or self-consciousness, he began selecting items with calm elegance.
He picked up a square white bar of unpackaged soap, handling it as delicately as if it were a piece of warm, polished jade. His fingertips brushed its smooth surface before flicking his wrist lightly—the soap landed perfectly in his left palm.
Next, he picked up a basic plastic-handled toothbrush. He didn't check the bristles; instead, he pinched the middle of the handle with his thumb and forefinger, twirling it gracefully like a pen—light, smooth, rhythmic.
Finally, he lifted an unscented bottle of shampoo with a plain label. He didn't grip it; instead, he supported the base between his index, middle, and thumb, his little finger raised slightly—like someone holding a sake cup with refined etiquette.
Having finished selecting, Sakamoto did not retrieve a basket.
He held the white bar of soap in his left hand.He pinched the toothbrush delicately between his right thumb and forefinger.He supported the shampoo bottle with his remaining fingers, forming a balanced and almost artistic posture.
In his hands, those three free items looked transformed—elegant, almost refined.
He stood up straight again, posture as upright as a pine tree. Behind his glasses, his gaze was calm and unwavering, as though he were carrying precious treasures—not the cheapest items in the store.
In the afternoon sunlight, his composure formed a strikingly beautiful scene.
Ayanokouji clearly saw Horikita Suzune, who stood ahead in line, pause slightly as she sensed the unusual presence behind her.
She turned her head, cool eyes glancing toward the free area.
When she saw Sakamoto with the three free items in his hands, a complex emotion flickered within her gaze.
She had also learned that this eccentric boy belonged to Class A.And now—Seeing the strangely elegant way he held such mundane items, she felt a shock that was difficult to describe.
Or perhaps it was simply speechlessness at the sheer contrast between elegance and thrift?
Her fingers tightened around her shopping basket; her lips parted slightly as if to speak—
But she remained silent.
Sakamoto appeared to have completed his "shopping."
He did not walk to the cashier.He did not acknowledge the stares.He simply turned slightly, his gaze sweeping calmly toward the exit, as though confirming its position.
Then he walked toward the door—steady, unhurried, graceful. His arms swung naturally, back straight, steps firm and measured.
With soap in his left hand and the toothbrush and shampoo held elegantly in his right, there was nothing awkward about the posture—in fact, it radiated effortless composure.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, outlining his tall figure with a golden glow. The three simple free items seemed to emit a strange, dignified radiance in his hands.
Around the cashier line, soft murmurings rose, mixed with faint gasps:
"He's from Class A…? So handsome…"
"What graceful posture…"
"He's leaving like that? No checkout?"
"Those items… aren't those from the free zone!?"