The first thing I noticed was the silence.
Not the normal "morning in a dorm" silence, either. This was the kind of quiet that came after a storm—when the world pretended nothing happened, even though you knew it did.
My ceiling stared back at me like it wanted to judge my life choices.
I blinked once. Twice.
Then I rolled my wrist a little, just enough to feel the weight under my sleeve.
The Omnitrix sat there like a smug secret.
Last night's mess—the robots, the crushing metal, the way the campus lights didn't catch it because I made sure they didn't—it all sat in my chest like a laugh I hadn't finished.
Vilgax… you're sniffing around now, huh?
I ran a hand through my silver hair and let out a slow breath. My heart wasn't pounding. My hands weren't shaking. There was no "oh no, what if I die?" panic.
Honestly?
I felt… alive.
Not because I almost fought an army of walking death machines.
Because I won.
And because nobody knew.
Yet.
I sat up, stretched, and the blanket slid down my torso. My body still looked ridiculous every time I caught it in the mirror—muscular, lean, athletic, like some kind of magazine model that got bored and decided to become a delinquent.
My crimson eyes met my own reflection.
Senju Kojiro stared back.
I grinned.
"Alright," I muttered. "Let's go pretend we're normal teenagers again."
I got dressed in the school uniform like it was armor. Jacket, tie, everything neat—because if you were going to walk into a den of pretty snakes, you might as well look good doing it.
Before leaving, I checked my school-issued phone.
My points balance was still there. Still huge.
No new deposit.
Which meant only one thing.
Here we go.
Class D's monthly points were supposed to hit today. Everybody had been waiting for it like a payday from heaven.
But I already knew the punchline.
I had warned them. I had practically spoon-fed them hints on day one, and some people still decided to speedrun stupidity like it was a sport.
Humans were incredible that way.
I left my room, stepped into the hallway, and headed for the elevator.
The dorms smelled like clean floors and cheap perfume. Doors opened, closed. A few students moved around with lazy morning faces.
Then the elevator doors opened—
And she was already inside.
Strawberry-pink hair, neat but soft. A face that looked like it belonged in a commercial, but her eyes weren't empty or fake. They were bright—clear, calm, warm.
She looked up.
For half a second, I thought my brain stuttered.
Holy…
No. No, be normal. Don't just stare like a caveman who discovered sunlight.
She was easily one of the most beautiful girls I'd seen in this school year. Not in a flashy way. More like… the kind of beauty that made the air feel gentle.
I stepped in.
The doors closed.
Quiet.
I didn't know what she was thinking. I didn't know why she was looking at me the way she was.
But I could tell she recognized me.
Not my name necessarily—just… me.
That tiny pause people did when their mind went: I've seen you before.
She took the initiative, and that surprised me.
"Um… excuse me," she said softly. Her voice was polite, friendly, clean. "Are you… Senju-kun?"
My eyebrow lifted.
I turned my head slightly, giving her my full attention like she'd earned it.
"Depends," I said. "If you're here to collect a debt, then I'm my evil twin."
Her lips parted. Then she smiled—small at first, like she was trying not to laugh.
"I'm not," she said, amused. "I just… I thought so. Your hair is very memorable."
"Yeah," I said, tapping my own bangs lightly. "It's a lifestyle choice. The universe demanded I look expensive."
That made her laugh for real. A quick, quiet laugh, like she didn't want the elevator to hear.
She relaxed, shoulders loosening.
"I'm Ichinose Honami," she said. "Class 1-B."
There it was. Ichinose Honami.
I'd seen her in the novels. I'd seen her in the anime. But seeing her in real life was something else.
She wasn't just "the kind class leader." She felt like sunlight. Like the type of person who could walk into a room and make everyone calmer just by existing.
And I… I was not calm.
I was a proud, savage, narcissistic menace.
So of course the first thing I did was smile like I owned the air.
"Senju Kojiro," I said. "Class 1-D."
Her eyes flickered—just a tiny shift. Not fear. Not judgment. More like… she filed the information away.
"1-D…" she repeated gently. "So we're in the same year."
"Unfortunately for the school, yes," I said. "They let me in. Their security team is gonna regret it."
Honami's smile widened again.
"You're funny," she said.
"Only when I'm awake," I replied. "And only when the world deserves it."
The elevator moved smoothly. The soft hum filled the gaps between our words, but it didn't feel awkward.
She glanced at my sleeve—my wrist area—then back to my face. Quick. Almost like she caught herself.
That told me one thing.
She's curious.
Not scared. Not hostile.
Curious.
I tilted my head. "So, Ichinose-san. Early morning elevator rides. You running from some drama already?"
She shook her head. "No. I just… had breakfast with a friend. I stayed a little later than I planned, so I wanted to leave early and make sure I'm not late."
"Responsible," I said, impressed. "Disgusting."
She giggled again, covering her mouth lightly with her hand like she had manners.
I leaned back against the elevator wall, arms relaxed.
"Do you like the school so far?" she asked.
"That depends," I said. "The food is decent, the dorms are too clean, and the rules are clearly written by someone who hates teenagers."
Honami nodded slowly, thoughtful. "The rules are strict, but… it's also peaceful."
"Peaceful is a lie," I said. "But I respect your optimism."
She looked at me for a moment, like she was trying to measure me without making it obvious.
I let her.
It wasn't uncomfortable. It was… interesting.
The elevator doors opened at our floor.
We stepped out together.
The hallway toward the school buildings was bright with morning light. Students were already moving in groups, chatting, laughing.
Honami walked beside me naturally, like it was normal for her to do that with someone she'd only just met.
That was her power.
She made people feel safe without forcing it.
"So…" she said, a little hesitant now, but still warm. "Would you mind exchanging contact information?"
Straight to the point.
I liked that.
"Sure," I said easily. "I'm not afraid of being stalked by a popular girl."
Honami blinked, then flushed slightly. "I-I'm not stalking you."
"I know," I said, smiling. "But it's fun to say."
She sighed, but she was smiling too.
We exchanged contacts. Her name popped up on my screen.
Ichinose Honami.
Cute.
"Thank you," she said. "Maybe we can talk again."
"Maybe," I replied. "If fate loves you."
She laughed, and for a second she looked like she wanted to say something else—something heavier.
But she didn't.
She just nodded.
"Have a good day, Senju-kun."
"You too, Ichinose-san."
We parted at the crossroads where our buildings split.
She walked away with that same soft confidence, blending into the morning like she belonged to it.
I watched her for a moment longer than I needed to.
Then I clicked my tongue quietly and started walking.
Yeah. I'm fond of her already. Damn.
Class 1-D was loud before I even opened the door.
Not the fun kind of loud.
The stressed kind.
I stepped in and immediately felt the tension. Students were crowding around their phones, complaining.
"Hey, hey—where are the points?!"
"It's the first of the month, right?!"
"I swear I didn't get anything!"
I slid into my seat like I owned it—which I did, technically—and glanced back.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka sat behind me, as calm as ever. Like the world could burn and he'd still look like he was waiting for a bus.
I leaned back slightly.
"Morning, Ayanokouji-kun."
He looked at me. "Morning."
Simple. Quiet. Normal.
Horikita sat nearby, posture straight, expression sharp. She looked like someone insulted her bloodline personally.
Kushida was already smiling, trying to calm people down, moving between groups like a social butterfly on fire.
Koenji was… Koenji. Sitting like he was in a throne, legs crossed, not caring.
He caught my eye and smirked like he already knew the show was about to start.
Of course he did.
Koenji and I had always loved watching people panic.
The door slid open.
Chabashira-sensei entered.
The room shut up—half out of fear, half out of habit.
She walked to the front with that cold, sharp elegance, like her heels were punctuation marks.
Her eyes scanned the class with quiet disgust.
Someone—of course it was Ike—muttered, loud enough to be heard:
"Sensei, you look kinda… you know… like menopause—"
Silence.
Even the air froze.
Chabashira-sensei didn't even react. Not a flinch. Not a blink.
She just ignored him like he didn't exist.
That alone made Ike shrivel in his seat.
I covered my mouth with my hand and muttered, "Bro just committed suicide socially."
Ayanokouji didn't respond. But I saw his eyes flicker slightly.
He heard. He's human. Good.
Chabashira-sensei set a clipboard down.
"Now," she said calmly, "before we begin class, does anyone have questions?"
Hands shot up.
It was chaos.
"Why didn't we get our points?!"
"My phone didn't receive anything!"
"Is there a problem with the system?!"
Chabashira-sensei stared at them like they were insects.
"The system worked perfectly," she said.
"That's impossible!" someone yelled. "It didn't—!"
"It did," she repeated, tone flat.
Then she looked down at her clipboard, and her lips curved slightly—barely.
Like she was enjoying this.
"I deposited your points," she said. "As scheduled."
A wave of disbelief hit the room.
"No you didn't!"
"I got nothing!"
"Same!"
Chabashira-sensei lifted her chin and looked at us like a scientist looking at lab rats that learned nothing.
"Interesting," she said. "Then I'll ask again. Are you sure you received nothing?"
Everyone checked again, frantic.
Still nothing.
That's when she turned toward the blackboard and pinned up a sheet of paper.
"Then let's begin," she said. "Your class points for last month were… zero."
It took a second to register.
Then—
"What?!"
"That's a joke, right?!"
"Zero?! How?!"
Chabashira-sensei pinned up another paper beside it. A clean chart.
Class A: 940Class B: 650Class C: 490Class D: 0
The class stared like someone just slapped them.
I leaned back and sighed dramatically.
Finally. The canon event.
Chabashira-sensei faced us again.
"In this school," she said, "the points you receive are not 'free allowance' given out of kindness. They are tied to your performance."
Shouting erupted again.
"We weren't told that!"
"Nobody explained it!"
"This is unfair!"
Chabashira-sensei's eyes narrowed.
Then she turned her gaze toward me.
Not a long stare. Just long enough.
Like she was pointing without pointing.
"Unfair?" she repeated. "One of you raised concerns about the system at the start of the year. One of you tried to warn you."
The class glanced at me.
A few students actually looked embarrassed.
Most looked confused.
Chabashira-sensei continued, not caring.
"You spent the last month doing whatever you pleased. Late arrivals. Absences. Talking during class. Using your phones. Ignoring instructions."
She tapped her clipboard once.
"Total absences and late arrivals: ninety-eight."
The room shook with noise again.
"That can't be right!"
"Ninety-eight?!"
Chabashira-sensei didn't even raise her voice.
"Total disruptions—talking during class and phone use: three hundred ninety-one."
Now people were staring at each other.
Like, wait… it wasn't just me?
Chabashira-sensei's mouth twisted.
"For a group that was handed one hundred thousand points per person, you managed to throw away everything in one month."
I whistled quietly.
Koenji chuckled like this was a play.
Hirata raised his hand, trying to be calm. "Sensei… so the point system—"
"Is simple," Chabashira-sensei cut in. "Class points determine your monthly personal point distribution. Class points go down when you fail basic standards."
I saw Yamauchi's face go pale. Ike looked like he wanted to cry.
Chabashira-sensei kept going, voice steady, cruel in how calm it was.
"Being late affects your class. Absence affects your class. Disruptions affect your class. Every action affects your class."
Someone shouted, "But we didn't know!"
And that's when she really smiled.
A cold smile.
"You learned not to be late in elementary school," she said. "Did you forget?"
That hit hard.
Some students clenched their fists.
Sudou slammed his desk. "This is bullshi—!"
Chabashira-sensei's eyes flicked toward him.
Sudou shut up like someone yanked his leash.
She turned her attention back to all of us.
"Now," she said, "perhaps you're finally starting to understand."
"Understand what?" Hirata asked, still trying to keep peace.
Chabashira-sensei's voice sharpened.
"Why you were placed in Class D."
The words landed like a blade.
Horikita's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Chabashira-sensei didn't hesitate.
"In this school, students are sorted by merit," she said. "Superior students enter Class A. The least capable enter Class D."
Students blinked like they couldn't accept it.
"Sorted…? Like… a ranking?" someone asked weakly.
"Yes," Chabashira-sensei said. "Class D is the lowest."
Then she said the word that made Horikita's face stiffen.
"Defective."
It was dead quiet for a second.
Not because everyone agreed.
Because everyone felt it.
I rolled my neck slowly and muttered, "Damn. She really said it."
Horikita looked like she wanted to stand up and start a war.
Chabashira-sensei didn't stop.
"This year's Class D," she continued, "is the first to ever spend everything in one month."
She clapped twice, slow and mocking.
"Wonderful. Truly wonderful."
A few students looked like they were going to vomit.
Someone near the back stammered, "So… if we hit zero, we stay at zero… forever?"
Chabashira-sensei tilted her head slightly.
"If you keep behaving like this?" she said, voice smooth. "Yes. You'll live at zero until graduation."
Panic started creeping in.
"But we can't live like that!"
"We can't buy anything!"
"I already spent everything!"
That last voice was Yamauchi. He looked like his soul left his body.
Chabashira-sensei shrugged. "You will still have dorm rooms. You will still have meals. You will not die."
The way she said it made it sound like dying would've been funnier.
Sudou kicked the legs of his desk hard. "So everyone's gonna laugh at us!"
"Then improve," Chabashira-sensei replied instantly. "Your class points are not only tied to your money. They reflect your class rank."
"Rank…?" Hirata repeated.
"If you increase your points," she said, "you can rise. Class D can become Class C. Then Class B. Then Class A."
That made people freeze again.
Hope. Tiny, weak hope.
Then she pinned up another sheet.
"This," she said, "is more bad news."
It was the short test results.
A list of everyone's names.
Numbers beside them.
The class surged forward to look.
I didn't rush. I already knew the shape of this disaster.
But I stood anyway, because I wanted to see their faces.
Chabashira-sensei tapped the paper with her pen.
"These are the results of the short test you took earlier."
She scanned the room.
"Judging from what I'm seeing… this class is full of idiots."
The room erupted again.
"Hey!"
"That's rude!"
Chabashira-sensei didn't care.
"The average score," she continued, "was sixty-five."
She paused.
"With a few exceptions, most of you scored below sixty."
That was the part that mattered. That meant the class wasn't just undisciplined.
They were weak.
And then she delivered the humiliation.
"Sudou," she said, looking straight at him. "Fourteen."
Sudou's face turned red instantly. "Tch—!"
"And Ike," she added, not even looking at him. "Twenty-four."
Ike made a noise like he got stabbed.
I tilted my head, eyes flicking down the list.
I saw the red line she'd drawn.
Seven names below it.
Kikuchi was the highest among the failures with thirty-one.
Chabashira-sensei watched them panic.
Then she said it.
"If this had been a real exam… seven of you would have been forced to drop out."
Everything went silent.
"D-drop out…?" Ike whispered.
Chabashira-sensei nodded like it was obvious.
"If you fail a midterm or final exam in this school," she said, "you drop out."
Now chaos exploded.
"That's insane!"
"You never told us that!"
"That can't be real!"
Chabashira-sensei's voice stayed calm.
"If we applied that rule to this short test," she said, "anyone below thirty-two would be gone."
I watched the failing group.
They looked like prey.
Chabashira-sensei's eyes were cold.
"You really are stupid," she said, and there was no humor in it.
Koenji smiled like he was enjoying their suffering.
Then someone shouted, "Wait! Kouenji scored under the line too!"
Koenji's head turned slowly. He looked offended.
"Pardon?" he said, voice dripping arrogance. "Are you blind?"
He flicked his chin toward the top of the sheet.
"Look again."
Sudou scanned upward, frantic.
Then his eyes widened.
"What the hell…?"
Koenji's score was at the top.
100.
He had taken it seriously.
Of course he had.
Beside his name was Yukimura's.
100.
And—
My name.
100.
I didn't even feel proud. I felt amused.
Grey Matter had made this stuff so simple it was insulting. I'd finished the test like it was a warm-up.
Koenji glanced at me.
I gave him a lazy grin.
He smirked back.
"Of course," he said, loud enough for nearby people to hear. "You and I remain the peak of this class."
"Careful," I replied. "If you polish your ego any harder, you'll set off the fire alarms."
Koenji laughed.
The failing group looked like they wanted to murder us.
Chabashira-sensei continued her lecture like she wasn't watching a psychological breakdown.
"This school is famous," she said. "High advancement rates. Strong future placement. Many of you came here because you think graduating will guarantee a bright future."
Students nodded automatically.
"But," she said, "nothing comes easy. Mediocre people do not get miracles."
Yukimura stood up, face tense. "This is unacceptable. We weren't informed—"
Koenji cut him off with a sigh. "Men losing their cool. Disgraceful."
Yukimura turned toward him. "Don't you feel dissatisfied being placed in Class D?"
Koenji didn't even look at him.
"Dissatisfied?" he repeated. "Why would I be?"
Yukimura clenched his fists. "Because the school is telling us we're failures!"
Koenji finally turned his head slightly, bored.
"The school simply hasn't understood my greatness yet," he said smoothly. "I value myself more than anyone else. So their classification means nothing."
He leaned back.
"If I dropped out, they would beg me to return."
I snorted. "You'd make them write apology letters too."
Koenji's smile sharpened. "Naturally."
Yukimura looked like he wanted to argue, but Koenji wasn't finished.
"Besides," Koenji continued, "I will lead the Kouenji conglomerate. Whether I'm in Class A or D is irrelevant."
That shut Yukimura up, because it was impossible to argue with a man who spoke like he was already a legend.
Chabashira-sensei ended homeroom with her final knife.
"Midterms are in three weeks," she said. "Do not drop out. Think carefully. Act, if possible, like you have brains."
Then she left.
The door slammed with an unnecessary force.
And the class exploded.
The moment she left, everyone started yelling.
"I'm done! I'm actually done!"
"I spent everything!"
"What do we do now?!"
"This is Sudou's fault!"
Sudou stood up instantly. "The hell did you just say?!"
People pointed at him like he was a disease.
"You're always loud!"
"You're always fighting!"
"You're always late!"
Sudou's face twisted with rage.
He looked ready to throw a chair.
Hirata stepped between them, hands raised. "Everyone, calm down! Fighting won't solve—"
"Shut up!" someone snapped. "You still have points, Hirata!"
And that was the truth.
People who still had points weren't panicking as hard.
People who'd blown everything were losing their minds.
I leaned back in my chair, watching it like a show.
Ayanokouji behind me was quiet. Calm.
Horikita's gaze was sharp, disgusted. She looked like she wanted to separate herself from the whole room.
Kushida moved between groups, smiling, trying to soothe people like she was holding the class together with tape.
That girl was working overtime.
And then Yamauchi, desperate and ugly with panic, looked straight at me.
He sneered, trying to regain pride.
"Oi, Senju," he said loudly. "Don't act so calm. You're broke too, aren't you? Same as us."
The room quieted.
People turned to look.
Koenji perked up like this got interesting.
I blinked slowly.
Then I laughed.
Not a little laugh.
A loud, sharp laugh that made heads turn harder.
"Me?" I repeated. "Broke?"
Yamauchi's confidence wavered. "W-what's so funny?"
I stood up, pulled my phone out, and held it up so the screen faced the room.
"My points," I said casually, like I was showing them a meme.
The number glowed.
4,821,300.
Silence dropped like a guillotine.
Some people didn't even breathe.
Someone whispered, "That's… not real…"
Kushida's smile froze for half a second.
Hirata's eyes widened.
Sudou's jaw dropped.
Even Horikita blinked like she couldn't process it.
Koenji laughed like he'd been waiting for this all day.
"See?" he said, smug. "He's not in your league. None of you are."
Yamauchi's face went pale.
"H-how…?" he croaked.
I lowered my phone and smiled, warm and cruel at the same time.
"Don't compare yourselves to me," I said. "It's embarrassing. You're not even playing the same game."
I tucked my phone back into my pocket like I'd just dropped a bomb and got bored.
Inside, I was amused.
Good. Let it sink in. Let them finally understand the gap.
I didn't hide my superiority. Why would I?
Only the weak hid behind curtains.
After the initial shock, the class didn't calm down.
It shifted.
Now it wasn't just panic.
It was hunger.
They started looking at me like I was food.
"Senju… can you lend me—"
"Just a little—"
"I'll pay you back!"
I raised a hand.
"Stop," I said, voice sharp.
They froze, half out of fear, half because my tone cut through them.
"If you beg me like dogs, I'll start throwing coins just to watch you fight over them," I said. "And I promise I'll enjoy it."
That made a few people recoil.
Good.
I leaned forward slightly.
"If you want help," I continued, "then use your brains for five seconds. The teacher just told you how you lost points. Fix that first."
Hirata nodded quickly. "Senju-kun is right. We need to control our behavior."
I glanced at him. "You're the class's moral support animal, Hirata. Keep doing that."
He looked startled but smiled politely anyway.
Kushida stepped closer, her cheerful mask still intact. "Senju-kun, you're really calm…"
"Because I listened," I replied, glancing at her. "And because I'm not broke."
Her smile tightened slightly—tiny, almost invisible.
But she nodded. "True…"
Horikita's voice cut in. "This is meaningless noise. We should focus on raising class points."
Her tone was cold, sharp. Classic Horikita.
I looked at her.
"You should've been giving speeches on day one," I said.
Her eyes narrowed. "I don't need your commentary."
"Oh, you definitely do," I replied lightly. "You just hate that you do."
Ayanokouji didn't speak, but I felt his presence like a quiet wall behind me.
I wasn't going to push him in front of everyone.
Not yet.
Kushida came closer again, voice lower now, more personal.
"Senju-kun… can I talk to you for a bit?" she asked.
I glanced at her.
Her smile was still there. But her eyes looked tired.
Not the fake "I'm tired but still cute" tired.
The real kind.
I nodded once. "Yeah. Come on."
She followed me out into the hallway.
The noise from the class faded behind the door.
Kushida let out a breath the moment we were alone.
For a second, her shoulders dropped. Just a little.
Then she put her smile back on.
"So…" she said, voice softer. "That was… intense."
"Class D is a circus," I replied. "You're the ringmaster. Congrats."
She laughed awkwardly. "It's not that bad…"
"You don't have to lie to me," I said, leaning against the wall. "I can see you're exhausted."
Her smile faltered—barely.
"Being friendly is hard work," she said lightly, but it sounded like she meant it.
I watched her for a moment.
Then I pulled out my phone.
"Kushida-san," I said.
"Yes?"
"How are you doing financially?" I asked casually. "Don't give me the 'I'm fine' answer. I mean it."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"I… I still have some points," she said carefully. "I didn't spend that much—"
I waved my hand. "Stop. You've been carrying half the class emotionally. That costs more than points."
Then I tapped my screen and transferred.
500,000 points.
Her phone buzzed.
She looked down.
And her face changed.
Shock first.
Then confusion.
Then something like panic.
"S-Senju-kun?!" she whispered. "W-what is this?!"
I smiled—not smug this time. Warm.
"Consider it support," I said simply. "Or hazard pay. Whatever you want."
Her eyes flickered up to me, and she looked genuinely shaken.
"That's… that's too much," she said, voice tight. "I can't accept this."
"You already did," I replied.
Kushida's hands shook slightly as she held her phone.
"Why?" she asked. "Why would you—"
"Because I want to," I said, like it was obvious. "And because I like you."
Her cheeks flushed, just a bit.
But she didn't look like a girl melting into romance.
She looked like someone trying to understand a person who didn't fit into her usual script.
"I… I'll pay you back," she said quickly.
"You can," I replied. "Or you can buy yourself something nice and not complain."
Kushida swallowed.
Her smile returned, but it was strained now. Real emotions leaking around the edges.
"You're… really strange," she said quietly.
"I'm Senju Kojiro," I replied. "Strange is my default setting."
She stared at me for a second longer than usual.
Then she forced a laugh.
"Thank you," she said, but the words came out heavier than normal.
I nodded.
"No problem."
For a moment, we just stood there.
I could hear distant voices from the classroom, still panicking.
Kushida looked toward the door, then back at me.
"…Senju-kun," she said softly, "aren't you scared? About… everything?"
I blinked.
Then I smiled.
"Scared?" I repeated. "Of what?"
She hesitated. "The school… the rules… the pressure—"
I leaned in slightly, voice low, calm.
"Kushida-san," I said, "only cowards get torn apart by 'what if.'"
My grin sharpened.
"I don't fear anything."
Her eyes widened.
Then she laughed nervously. "That's… very confident."
"Damn right," I said.
And I meant it.
Not long after we returned to the classroom, the announcement came.
A crackle. A calm voice.
"Senju Kojiro-kun of Class 1-D… and Ayanokouji Kiyotaka-kun of Class 1-D… please report to the guidance room immediately."
The room went silent again.
Everyone stared.
I stood up slowly, stretching like I was bored.
Ayanokouji stood as well, calm as always.
Horikita's eyes narrowed. "Guidance room…?"
Kushida looked between us, curious.
Koenji smiled like he was entertained again.
I leaned toward Ayanokouji as we stepped into the hall.
"Looks like we got picked," I murmured.
He glanced at me. "Seems like it."
We walked side by side toward the faculty area.
The hallway felt colder here. Cleaner. More official.
As we approached, we spotted a familiar figure walking behind us like she owned the corridor.
Chie Hoshinomiya.
Class B's homeroom teacher.
She looked playful as always, like she was on her way to gossip rather than work.
She caught sight of us and her eyes lit up.
"Ohhh?" she sang. "Ayanokouji-kun~ and Senju-kun~. Going somewhere exciting?"
I almost laughed.
Her tone was shameless.
Ayanokouji looked politely confused.
I smiled like I enjoyed attention—which I did.
"Sensei," I said, "you stalking us?"
"Stalking?" she repeated, offended. "I'm simply a devoted educator."
Chabashira-sensei's voice cut in, cold as ice.
"Hoshinomiya."
Chie leaned closer to us, whispering like a conspirator.
"Sae-chan looks scary today," she said. "Do you think she wants to be dominated by a younger man?"
I paused.
Then I looked at Ayanokouji.
Then back at her.
"…Sensei," I said carefully, "please don't say sentences like that near me. I'm still a minor."
Chie laughed loudly. "Oh my, you're bold!"
Chabashira-sensei didn't look amused.
"Why are you following?" she asked. "This is a Class D matter."
Chie pouted. "Can't I go to the guidance room? I can give advice too~"
Then a girl approached from the side.
Light pink hair. Beautiful. Polite posture.
Ichinose Honami.
She looked even prettier in the bright hallway than she did in the elevator.
The uniform fit her perfectly, neat and clean. Her hair framed her face like it was styled by fate itself.
She bowed slightly.
"Hoshinomiya-sensei," she said respectfully, "do you have a moment? The student council would like to discuss something with you."
Her eyes flicked to me.
Just a glance.
Then she looked away quickly.
But I caught it.
Not fear.
Not disgust.
Just… awareness.
Chie's eyes sparkled like she noticed something.
Chabashira-sensei didn't miss it either. She raised her clipboard and—without warning—smacked Hoshinomiya-sensei on the butt.
Chie yelped. "Ow!"
I stared for half a second.
Ayanokouji blinked.
Honami froze, then looked like she was trying not to laugh.
Chabashira-sensei spoke flatly. "Go. You have something to do."
Chie rubbed the spot dramatically. "Sae-chan is so mean…"
Then she leaned toward us again, grinning.
"See you later, Ayanokouji-kun! Senju-kun!" she sang.
Then she turned to Honami.
"All right, Ichinose-san. Let's go."
Honami bowed quickly to us.
"I'm sorry," she said politely, eyes soft. "Good luck."
And as she turned to leave, her gaze brushed over me again—just a bit longer than before.
Hoshinomiya-sensei noticed.
Her smile turned wicked.
"Oho~? Honami, do you know Senju-kun?"
Honami's cheeks tinted pink.
"N-no," she said quickly. "We just… met this morning."
"Ahhh," Chie teased. "This morning~?"
Honami looked like she wanted to die of embarrassment.
Then she lightly grabbed her teacher's sleeve.
"Sensei, please…"
Chie laughed and finally let herself be pulled away.
They walked off together, Honami apologizing with her posture, Hoshinomiya still giggling like a villain.
I watched them go.
Then I exhaled.
Honami… you're going to be trouble for my heart, aren't you?
Ayanokouji glanced at me. "You know her?"
I shrugged. "Met her today. She's… nice."
He gave a small nod.
Then Chabashira-sensei opened the guidance room door.
"Enter," she said.
We did.
The guidance room felt like a trap disguised as a polite office.
Chabashira-sensei checked the clock.
Nine o'clock.
Then she walked into a small kitchenette area inside the room and started preparing tea like this was a normal morning.
"I'm making tea," she said. "Roasted green."
I didn't answer. I just watched.
Then she looked at me—directly.
"Senju," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Go into the kitchenette," she ordered. "And stay quiet."
I blinked. "What?"
Her eyes sharpened.
"If you don't," she said flatly, "I can expel you."
I stared at her.
Then I smiled.
"That's a nice word you like using, sensei."
Ayanokouji sighed quietly, like he was used to teachers being insane.
Chabashira-sensei didn't care.
"Inside," she repeated.
So I went in.
Ayanokouji followed.
The door closed.
We stood in the small space together, surrounded by tea supplies.
I leaned close to Ayanokouji and whispered, "We're being put in the cupboard like naughty kids."
He whispered back, calm. "Seems like it."
"Think she's trying to see if Horikita will say something spicy?" I murmured.
Ayanokouji didn't answer that. He just waited.
A moment later, the outer door opened.
I heard footsteps.
Horikita's voice.
"I'll be direct," she said. "Why was I placed in Class D?"
Chabashira-sensei's voice was calm. "Very direct."
Horikita didn't back down.
"You said superior students go to Class A," she said. "You said Class D was… the lowest."
"Yes."
"I solved nearly every problem on the entrance exam," Horikita said firmly. "I did well in the interview. At minimum, I shouldn't be in Class D."
I heard Chabashira-sensei's slight exhale, like she was bored.
"You were not placed here by mistake," she said. "You are in Class D because that is your evaluation."
Horikita's voice sharpened.
"Then I'll ask again later. Higher up."
Chabashira-sensei's tone didn't change.
"You'll get the same answer."
Horikita paused, then said, bitter and honest, "Even if I aim for Class A… how am I supposed to do that with these people?"
I smiled in the kitchenette.
Aaaand there it is.
Chabashira-sensei's voice was almost amused.
"That depends on you," she said. "Tell me, Horikita… do you need to reach Class A for a special reason?"
Horikita didn't answer right away.
Then she said, quieter, "That's enough for now. Excuse me."
I heard the chair move.
Then Chabashira-sensei spoke again.
"Oh," she said. "Before you go… I summoned someone else. Someone relevant to you."
Horikita's voice tightened. "Relevant…?"
Chabashira-sensei's tone turned sharp.
"Come out," she commanded. "Ayanokouji. Senju."
I snorted quietly.
So she wanted her to know.
We stepped out.
Horikita's eyes widened immediately.
"Were you listening?" she demanded, face stiff.
I lifted both hands. "Relax. I only listened to the parts where you insulted everyone."
Her glare could've cut steel.
Ayanokouji spoke calmly. "I didn't hear much. The walls are thick."
Chabashira-sensei's eyes flicked to him. "Not thick enough."
Horikita's frustration was obvious.
Chabashira-sensei sat down like she was in control, because she was.
"Now," she said, "I called you here for a reason."
She opened her clipboard.
"Ayanokouji," she said, "your entrance exam results intrigued me."
Horikita's eyes sharpened. "Entrance exam…?"
Chabashira-sensei didn't look away from her sheet.
"Japanese: fifty," she said. "Math: fifty. English: fifty. Social studies: fifty. Science: fifty."
Horikita froze.
Ayanokouji stayed calm.
Chabashira-sensei continued.
"You also scored fifty on the short test."
Horikita turned slowly toward Ayanokouji, disbelief all over her face.
Ayanokouji shrugged slightly. "Coincidence."
Chabashira-sensei's gaze hardened.
"You solved one of the harder math questions with a method most students wouldn't use," she said, voice low. "But you missed an easier question that most people solved."
She paused.
"Is that normal?"
Ayanokouji's tone stayed flat. "Coincidence."
Chabashira-sensei sighed, irritated.
Then her eyes shifted to me.
"And you, Senju."
I smiled. "Me?"
She read again.
"Japanese: one hundred," she said. "Math: one hundred. English: one hundred. Social studies: one hundred. Science: one hundred."
Horikita's head snapped toward me.
Ayanokouji glanced at me too, but his expression barely changed.
Chabashira-sensei added, "Short test: one hundred."
Horikita looked like she wanted to explode.
"How are you in Class D?" she asked sharply.
I tilted my head. "Because the school has taste."
Chabashira-sensei's lips curved. "He's not hiding that he's capable," she said, like she was evaluating me. "And yet he ended up here."
Horikita's eyes narrowed at me. "So you're just… a genius?"
I shrugged. "Depends who you ask."
Chabashira-sensei leaned back slightly.
"I wonder," she said, looking at Horikita. "He may be even more intelligent than you."
Horikita flinched like she got slapped.
I grinned. "Careful, sensei. You'll make her hate me."
Horikita's glare promised violence.
Chabashira-sensei continued like she enjoyed twisting knives.
"Some students have different reasons for being here," she said. "Ayanokouji. Kouenji. Senju."
Horikita's voice went sharp. "What other reasons?"
Chabashira-sensei's eyes gleamed.
"You want me to explain in detail?" she asked.
I leaned forward slightly and smiled.
"If you do," I said, "Horikita-san might actually start breaking furniture."
Horikita glared at me. "I'm not—"
Chabashira-sensei cut in, deadpan. "If you break furniture, Horikita, I will demote you to Class E."
Horikita blinked. "There's a Class E?"
Chabashira-sensei smiled thinly.
"Yes," she said. "The 'E' stands for 'expelled.'"
I snorted. "You really love that word."
"It's useful," she replied.
Then she stood, like the conversation was finished.
"I have a faculty meeting," she said. "Leave."
She opened the door and practically pushed us into the hallway.
We stepped out.
The guidance room door closed.
And for a moment, it was just the three of us in the corridor.
Horikita stared at Ayanokouji, then at me, like she was trying to solve a puzzle she hated.
Ayanokouji looked like he wanted to walk away.
I looked like I wanted to start laughing.
Horikita finally spoke.
"Ayanokouji-kun," she said, voice controlled. "Was your score really coincidence?"
Ayanokouji sighed. "I said it was."
Horikita's eyes narrowed. "I don't understand you. You say you avoid trouble, yet—"
"Yet what?" I cut in, amused. "Yet he's a mystery box?"
Horikita's glare snapped to me. "This doesn't concern you."
I smiled wider. "Everything concerns me. I'm in this class."
Ayanokouji glanced between us like he was watching two cats fight.
Horikita's voice stayed sharp. "Senju-kun, you're clearly capable. Why aren't you aiming for Class A?"
I leaned closer, eyes half-lidded.
"Because I don't need Class A," I said casually. "I'm already me."
Horikita looked disgusted.
Koenji would've been proud.
Ayanokouji's eyes flickered slightly, like he was thinking something he wouldn't say.
Horikita clenched her fists.
"I will reach Class A," she said, voice tight. "No matter what."
I nodded like I respected it.
"Then do it," I said. "But here's my advice, Horikita-san."
She looked at me like she didn't want it.
I gave it anyway.
"Stop expecting idiots to suddenly stop being idiots," I said plainly. "Either control them… or use them."
Horikita's eyes sharpened.
Ayanokouji stayed quiet.
I stepped back, hands in my pockets.
"And Ayanokouji-kun," I added, turning slightly so only he really caught it, "I'd love to talk sometime. Just us."
He looked at me, expression unreadable.
"…Sure," he said, polite.
Not warm. Not cold.
Just… open enough.
Good.
Horikita scoffed. "This is wasting time."
She turned and walked away.
Ayanokouji watched her go, then looked at me.
"You really don't hold back," he said.
I smirked.
"Why would I?" I replied. "If you've got teeth, show them."
Ayanokouji didn't answer.
But he didn't disagree either.
As we started walking back, my wrist felt heavy under the sleeve.
A calm, quiet reminder.
No matter what this school threw at me—schemes, pressure, social warfare—
I had something else.
A trump card that didn't care about human pride.
And somewhere out there…
Something had noticed it.
I smiled to myself as we neared the classroom.
Let this school play its little games.
I'll play mine.