'I will burn my dread~, burn my dread~, burn my dread~'
The station closest to Advanced Nurturing High School was always crowded in the morning.
'Yeah, the time is now, Burnt my dread in the drain-'
A blue-haired boy walked through the crowd at an unhurried pace—one hand in his pocket, the other holding a canned coffee he had just bought from a convenience store near the station. White earphones rested in his ears, their thin cable connected to a small music player in his jacket pocket.
The familiar bass of the song drowned out the noise of the outside world. A few lyrics leaked faintly from his earphones, making it look as though he was completely absorbed in his own world.
Around him, students in uniform moved in the same direction. Some jogged lightly, worried about being late, while others walked in groups, their conversations already lively even this early in the morning. Makoto passed through all of it at a steady pace. Not ignoring it. Just operating on a slightly different frequency.
The music player in his pocket had been with him for quite a while. Makoto had never expected it would follow him into this world as well.
It had been a gift from Elizabeth—an eccentric girl he once knew—along with a letter written in handwriting that was almost too neat to feel like a normal letter. At the very end was a sentence that made Makoto read it twice.
"I have made several minor modifications. The device is now resistant to impact, water, extreme temperatures, and—just in case—nuclear explosions. Please enjoy the music, my dear guest~."
Makoto remembered staring at the letter in silence for a few seconds last year.
Then he chuckled quietly—a rare sound from him, but one that slipped out anyway.
After all, who would list nuclear explosion resistance as a feature for a music player?
The songs stored inside the playlist could not be found anywhere in this world. Those tracks simply didn't exist here.
But as long as the earphones remained in his ears, and the battery—which somehow never seemed to run out—continued working, one thing was certain. That music was one of the few connections he still had to his old world. Proof that Port Island had never truly become distant. The school gate appeared ahead. Makoto finished the last sip of his coffee, tossed the empty can into a trash bin, and stepped inside.
That morning, all first-year students gathered in the gymnasium.
Makoto stood among the crowd with his hands in his pockets, watching the stage ahead with an expression that barely changed. The student council president stepped onto the stage. He introduced himself as Horikita Manabu. Makoto had already seen that name earlier on the school bulletin board while walking through the hallway. From the way the man stood on stage—back straight, no unnecessary gestures, his gaze sweeping across the entire room without feeling theatrical—it was clear he was used to standing in positions like this.
"...He sure look experienced"
As if this was simply how he existed in any room he entered. Familiar. The way he carried himself reminded Makoto of someone. Makoto quietly set that thought aside. Manabu's speech was short and efficient. What Makoto gathered from it was simple: expectations for the new class, the standards upheld by the school, and the fact that from this moment forward, every action they took would leave a mark that could not be erased. A school built on meritocracy. It was a good speech. There were no empty motivational phrases. No unnecessary words. Every sentence sounded like a statement of fact that merely happened to be delivered in public. Several students around Makoto looked slightly intimidated.
'It's first day of highschool, debut day. Some people might nervous and don't want to messed up.'
Makoto simply listened until the speech ended. Afterward, the students were given time to explore the school facilities.
---
Classroom B.
Makoto paused briefly at the door, surveying the room with a gaze that seemed casual, yet missed nothing.
A camera in the front left corner.
Another on the right.
One more at the back.
Their positions covered almost every blind spot in the classroom.
This school takes monitoring seriously, Makoto thought.
They're not even trying to hide it.
He filed that observation away and began looking for a seat.
Most desks were already taken or in the process of being claimed. His eyes eventually stopped on an empty seat near the window.
Makoto considered it for a moment.
"The protagonist's seat is always by the window."
The thought surfaced from somewhere in his memory—Junpei's voice enthusiastically explaining what he called the unwritten rules of fiction.
"The wind always blows toward the protagonist from the window. Their hair flutters dramatically. It's a law of nature, Makoto!"
Back at Gekkoukan, Makoto had rarely sat by the window. Junpei used to complain about it.
Makoto walked over and took the seat.
"Well… no harm trying it this time."
A light breeze drifted in through the slightly open window. Makoto glanced outside—the field, the pale blue sky, and several trees lining the edge of the campus.
Nothing dramatic happened.
His hair didn't flutter anywhere either.
Still, the view wasn't bad.
"Hey, can I sit here?"
Makoto turned his head.
A girl with long strawberry blonde hair stood beside the empty desk next to him. Her smile was open, and her tone was friendly without sounding forced.
"...Sure."
"Thanks."
She sat down and immediately took out a brand-new notebook from her bag.
"Ichinose Honami. Nice to meet you."
"Yuki Makoto."
"Where are you from, Yuki-kun?"
"Tokyo."
"Oh, same!" Ichinose looked slightly more excited. "Which part?"
The conversation continued naturally. Makoto answered briefly, but he didn't shut down the conversation. Ichinose filled the pauses with a rhythm that never felt pushy.
Around them, the classroom grew increasingly lively—chairs sliding, bags being set down, and names being exchanged for the first time.
Makoto noticed something.
Ichinose wasn't only talking to him.
Within five minutes before class started, she had already greeted two other students who had entered alone and looked uncertain about where to sit, inviting them to join the same area.
Nothing about it seemed forced.
Everything felt natural.
Makoto looked toward the front again.
"Three years in this school, huh…"
He murmured quietly, comparing it to his time at Gekkoukan.
The teacher entered the classroom with an energy that immediately filled the room.
"Welcome~ to Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School, everyone! I'm Hoshinomiya Chie, your homeroom teacher for Class B."
Her smile was wide.
"We'll be together for three years, so let's get along and behave. Sensei doesn't like students who give her headaches."
The aura of a beautiful woman who clearly enjoyed her job was strong—at least on the surface.
"First of all, I have good news. Starting today, each of you has received one hundred thousand personal points as your starting capital!"
The class immediately erupted into chatter.
One hundred thousand.
Some students whispered to the person beside them. Others opened the school-issued phones and checked the balance that had just appeared.
Makoto listened with an unchanged expression.
"At this school, almost anything can be purchased with points," Hoshinomiya continued.
"As a reference, one personal point is equal to one yen. While you're on campus, you're free to spend your points on the facilities available here!"
The sentence sounded simple.
But Makoto noticed what wasn't said.
Almost.
Not everything.
And there was no explanation about the limits.
"Oh, one more thing. While attending this school, you'll live in the dormitories and won't be allowed to contact the outside world. But don't worry! We have a mall, restaurants, entertainment facilities, and plenty of other amenities."
She clapped her hands lightly.
"So then—any questions?"
"Sensei."
Makoto raised his hand.
Hoshinomiya glanced at him.
"Yes, if i am not wrong... Yuki-kun, right?"
Makoto nodded "If almost anything can be bought with points," Makoto said casually, "does that include skipping class? How many points would that cost?"
"..."
One second of silence.
Two seconds.
Several heads turned toward him.
Hoshinomiya blinked—then laughed softly.
"Well, that's a… creative question."
She leaned forward slightly.
"But unfortunately, I can't explain the details of the point system any further. Besides, Yuki-kun, it's only your first day and you're already thinking about skipping class?"
Her smile turned teasing.
"You'll just waste your youth, you know~. Sensei is worried. Should I give you a loving teacher's hug to motivate you?"
Makoto ignored the comment. But, soon...
"There are restrictions on the information that can be disclosed?"
"Hold up sensei, will we even got 100.000 point again next month?"
"Sensei! Can you give the list what we can buy and something we can't buy with our point?"
"Can you elaborate more the reason why you can't explain?"
The class started filling with noise, cornering Hoshinomiya with so many questions. Hoshinomiya glared at Makoto with a pout.
"Eh, My fault?" Makoto looked toward Hoshinomiya-sensei with an unfazed, aloof face.
Hoshinomiya sensei start sighing and raise her hand to make them calm.
"More detailed information about the S-System does exist," Hoshinomiya replied carefully.
"But accessing it requires an investment."
"How much?"
"Two million points."
Whispers immediately spread through the classroom.
Two million.
Makoto nodded and asked nothing further.
Beside him, Ichinose quietly wrote something down in her notebook.
Her expression had grown slightly more serious than before.
No more students pushed Hoshinomiya-sensei for information; most of the students in the class looked unsure and fell silent.
---
Self-Introductions
"Before we move on," Hoshinomiya said, clapping her hands lightly, "let's have everyone introduce themselves. We'll be spending the next three years together, after all."
A few students straightened up immediately. Others looked slightly less enthusiastic.
The introductions began soon after.
One by one, students stood and introduced themselves. Some spoke with confidence, some were clearly nervous, and a few tried a little too hard to make themselves sound interesting.
Makoto listened quietly.
Every now and then, his gaze drifted toward the corners of the room, casually noting the positions of the cameras again.
There was no harm in making sure he looked like a normal student.
Eventually, his name was called.
Makoto stood up.
"Yuki Makoto. From Tokyo."
He paused for a moment, wondering if there was anything else he should add.
"I like food, so cooking is my hobby. That's all."
"You can cook?" Hoshinomiya asked, sounding interested.
"Well, I wouldn't brag and say I'm a professional," Makoto replied calmly.
"But at the very least, I make sure not to waste ingredients."
A few students chuckled lightly.
Makoto sat back down.
Beside him, Ichinose leaned closer and whispered.
"That was simple."
"There wasn't much else to say."
Ichinose gave a small smile and wrote something down in her notebook before returning her attention to the rest of the introductions.
The process continued for a while longer.
By the time the last student finished, the classroom atmosphere had become noticeably more relaxed.
"Alright!" Hoshinomiya said cheerfully. "That's enough for today. Let's wrap things up here."
Almost immediately, the bell rang.
---
Lunch break.
The cafeteria was already crowded when Makoto entered.
He stood in front of the menu for a moment, scanning the available options.
Then he noticed something.
There was a separate counter on the left side.
No price labels.
No point indicators.
Plain rice, miso soup, and simple side dishes.
All of it available without any transaction.
"Really? A safety net for those who fail to see the trap, or a test of pride?"
Several students took food from that counter without thinking twice.
Makoto watched for a moment.
"So there is free food..."
He picked up a tray and served himself from that counter.
Rice. Soup. A simple side dish.
Then he bought a canned coffee from a vending machine.
"The points... they really work like real money. Cool." Makoto slipped his phone back into his pocket.
Makoto sat alone at a table in the corner of the cafeteria and began eating.
A meritocratic system… and free food.
That was suspicious.
A system that allowed its students to collapse physically wouldn't be efficient.
Still—
This was clearly a deliberate decision.
Makoto scooped a spoonful of soup.
Maybe this school isn't entirely cold?
From the corner of his eye, Ichinose had already gathered almost the entire Class B around a long table.
The atmosphere there was lively.
The energy of the first day still lingered.
Makoto finished his coffee and stood up.
---
Afternoon — Club Fair.
The field had transformed into something like a small festival.
Club booths lined the area with banners and brochures. Senior students stood in front of them with smiles that were a mixture of genuine enthusiasm and recruitment effort.
Makoto walked past them at a steady pace.
Music club.
Literature club.
Science club.
Cooking club—where his steps slowed slightly before he continued walking.
Then he stopped.
The kendo club booth.
A senior girl with the refined aura of a yamato nadeshiko demonstrated a basic stance using a shinai.
Her movements were clean.
Well-trained.
But Makoto noticed a few small details.
The weight distribution on her left foot.
The tension in her right shoulder.
He stood there a few seconds longer than intended.
"Interested in joining?"
The senior noticed him.
"Just looking," Makoto replied.
"Have you practiced kendo before?"
Makoto glanced at the shinai.
"A little."
The senior seemed ready to ask more.
But Makoto had already started walking away.
At the next corner stood the archery club booth.
Makoto stopped again.
Seeing a bow always reminded him of Yukari.
The target at the far end of the field.
The bow displayed at the booth.
Several brochures advertising national-level competitions.
A male senior was enthusiastically explaining things to a few students.
Makoto stared at the target for a while.
Two interesting clubs in one school.
He let out a quiet breath.
Then picked up one brochure from each booth.
Kendo.
Archery.
Not a commitment.
Just information.
Toward the late afternoon, Makoto sat alone on a bench beneath a tree.
The music player rested in his hand.
He slowly spun it between his fingers.
Two brochures in his pocket.
Cameras everywhere.
One hundred thousand points.
A system that didn't explain its own limits.
A teacher who chose her words carefully.
A student council president who spoke like someone deeply familiar with this place.
And the free food counter in the cafeteria that almost nobody seemed to question.
Makoto looked up at the sky as it slowly changed color.
Three years.
A long time for a school life.
He pressed the play button.
Soft piano notes began to play.
Makoto let the sound fill the space between his thoughts—about today, about this place, and about the next three years, whose shape was still far too vague to fully imagine.
The sky above the field glowed pale orange.
The first day was over.
There was nothing to complain about.
End of Chapter 1
This is just random project of mine... It's not translation but original fanficfion created by me. So don't expect much about chapter release, it will be pretty random.