Midterm Exam

The day of the midterm exam arrived, just as scheduled.

For most of the new students at Kouyoku High School, this day meant judgment.

Yet the classroom of Class 1-A felt like an isolated, alternate dimension.

There was no last-minute cramming tension, no fear of the unknown.

In its place was a lazy, almost vacation-like ease.

A few girls huddled together, discussing a new dessert shop that had opened over the weekend.

Hashimoto Masayoshi leaned against a classmate's desk, animatedly recounting how he'd scored a huge victory in a game the day before.

More people were either napping on their desks or simply staring out the window, spacing out.

Kazehara Tetsu leaned back in his chair, one leg casually crossed, his gaze fixed on a novel in his hands.

With Last Year's Past Papers in hand, this so-called "midterm exam" had, for most of Class A, transformed from a life-or-death elimination match into a tedious, perfunctory open-book test.

It was even easier than an open-book test, because they didn't even need to flip through pages—the answers were already etched into their minds.

"Ring, ring, ring..."

When the bell rang and Majima Tomoya walked in with the exam papers, the chatter in the classroom only quieted slightly.

But he saw no trace of pre-exam reverence on his students' faces.

"Remain quiet during the exam."

He announced the exam rules as a matter of routine, then began distributing the papers.

When the paper reached Kazehara Tetsu, he only gave it a cursory glance.

Just as expected, over ninety percent of the questions were identical to the "past papers" he'd bought from his senpai.

The remaining ten percent only had minor tweaks in the numbers of the question stems or the order of the options—the same medicine in a different bottle.

He picked up his pen and started answering.

He didn't even need to think; the muscles in his wrist seemed to have formed a memory, driving the pen tip across the answer sheet in a smooth, flowing motion.

He filled in answers one after another, the whole process as fluid as a copying exercise.

In less than twenty minutes, he had finished the entire paper.

The classroom was so quiet that only the "scratch, scratch" of pens on paper could be heard.

But this silence didn't stem from intense thought; it was a dull, almost laborious stillness.

Kazehara Tetsu's gaze inadvertently drifted to the figure at the other end of the classroom.

Sakayanagi Arisu.

She sat equally straight, but unlike the others, she wasn't writing furiously.

The exam paper lay before her, but she hadn't even picked up her pen.

She just stared quietly at the page, as if appreciating a boring painting.

After a long while, she slowly picked up her pen and began filling in answers.

She wasn't answering questions; she was just killing time.

From her posture, Kazehara Tetsu read a silent, profound disappointment.

Like a chess player expecting a century-defining showdown with a rival, only to find a game of children's checkers laid out on the board.

When the bell rang for the end of the first exam, Class A's students almost instantly returned to their pre-exam clamor.

They gathered in small groups, not to check answers, but to complain about how boring the exam was.

"Hey, Kazehara, how'd it feel? So easy you almost fell asleep?" Hashimoto Masayoshi sidled up, a teasing grin on his face.

"Not bad. Might've been faster if a classical literature teacher was lecturing nearby." Kazehara Tetsu stretched.

"Next up is math, right? That's the real torture. Knowing the answers but still having to write out all those tedious calculation steps step by step—what a waste of life." Hashimoto Masayoshi sighed dramatically.

"Be grateful you even have answers to copy, and you're still complaining."

"Well... having answers is good, sure, but it's also boring. Those two things are separate, aren't they?"

Kazehara Tetsu didn't reply. His line of sight passed over Hashimoto's shoulder to the classroom door.

Sakayanagi Arisu stood there, leaning on her cane.

Her gaze rested calmly on him.

Kazehara Tetsu waved at Hashimoto Masayoshi. "Excuse me. Someone seems to be calling me."

He stood up and, amid Hashimoto's whistling, walked toward Sakayanagi Arisu.

The rooftop of the teaching building was one of the few places at This School where one could temporarily escape the noise.

The May wind carried a hint of warmth, brushing against the railing with a soft sound.

Sakayanagi Arisu stood with her back to Kazehara Tetsu, gazing at the distant scenery.

Her Silver White Hair fluttered slightly in the wind, and her petite silhouette looked somewhat lonely against the empty rooftop.

Kazehara Tetsu walked to her side, standing shoulder to shoulder with her, hands in his pockets, following her gaze.

"The view's nice." He spoke, breaking the silence.

"You've disappointed me, Kagihara."

Sakayanagi Arisu didn't respond to his small talk. She turned her head, those violet eyes stripped of their usual amusement, leaving only a cold interrogation.

"Leaking last year's past papers to everyone in Class A. Is that your choice?"

"Is there a problem?"

An innocent smile hung on Kazehara Tetsu's face. "This ensures our Class A achieves an overwhelming high score in this midterm exam, further solidifying our advantage. As a member of Class A, isn't it only natural for me to contribute to the class?"

He laid that reason out as a matter of course.

Sakayanagi Arisu looked at him, then suddenly laughed.

It was a laugh laced with mockery.

"Spare me that hypocritical 'collectivism' spiel, Kazehara Tetsu. Only an idiot like Katsuragi Kouhei would buy that. You're not him, and neither am I."

Her voice wasn't loud, but every word cut deep.

"You did this just to render our bet meaningless."

"When everyone can easily get a perfect score, the wager of 'whose total is higher' becomes a joke. With no victory or defeat, the agreement between us naturally dissolves into nothing. You don't have to become my right hand, and I don't have to risk becoming your 'girlfriend.' Quite a clever move—sacrificing 'the thrill of the duel' in exchange for 'absolute safety.'"

"So, in your heart, our duel was just something you could sacrifice at any time to avoid risk?"

Her voice carried a hint of anger at being belittled, an emotion even she hadn't fully noticed.

Kazehara Tetsu listened quietly to her accusation, his smile unwavering.

Only after she finished did he slowly shake his head.

"Sakayanagi, you're wrong about two things."

His voice was calm and firm.

"First, I never avoid risk. I just like... turning risk itself into part of my game."

"Second..."

He paused, turned sideways, and faced Sakayanagi Arisu directly, the distance between them suddenly closing. "Who told you our bet has become meaningless?"

Sakayanagi Arisu's brow furrowed slightly, confusion flickering in her eyes.