The aftereffects of the Midterm Exam had yet to fully subside, and the Special Exam hung over everyone in Class D like the Sword of Damocles, cloaking them in an invisible pressure. Feng Qi Ran was used to walking through the quieter corners of campus while he thought, trying to make sense of the many possible developments he had been considering. That afternoon, he was striding along the tree-shaded Corridor connecting the main School Building to the Art Building, rapidly analyzing the possible meaning behind Chabashira Sae's words, "Special Exam," and the strategic value of the enormous number of points at his disposal.
Perhaps because he was too absorbed in his thoughts, the unexpected happened at a right-angle turn in the Corridor.
A dull impact came from right in front of him, followed by a startled, small-animal-like squeak.
Feng Qi came to his senses at once and looked over. A petite girl in a Class D uniform had fallen to the ground. She wore thick black-framed glasses that covered nearly half her face, and her distinctive bobbed hair was now a little messy. All the color had drained from her face, which was filled with bewildered panic. It was Sakura Eri, a girl in their class with so little presence that she almost never spoke to anyone of her own accord. More strikingly, the Digital Camera she always wore around her neck had flown from her hands and landed on the hard ground nearby with a heartbreaking crack. Its Lens Cap had popped off, and its delicate structure seemed to have been knocked out of alignment by the impact. It didn't look good.
"I-I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry! I wasn't careful. I wasn't watching where I was going!" Sakura Eri apologized in a thin, tearful voice, not even bothering to check whether she was hurt or brush the dust off her skirt. She struggled to get up and retrieve her camera. Through her thick lenses, her eyes were full of unmistakable anguish and something deeper: fear, as if it wasn't the camera that had broken, but the only bridge connecting her to the world.
Feng Qi regained his composure completely in a thousandth of a second. He quickly assessed the situation and immediately took action.
"Please don't move. First, let's make sure you're not hurt." His voice was calm and firm, with a strangely soothing effect. He crouched down and offered Sakura his arm to help her stand steady. After carefully confirming that she was merely shaken and hadn't injured herself, he walked over to the camera lying on the ground. His movements were gentle and practiced as he carefully avoided areas that might suffer further damage and picked it up. He examined the connection between the camera body and lens with his fingertips, quickly identifying the problem. "The Lens Mount took a hit. It's slightly bent and misaligned, so the camera can't recognize the lens or focus properly. Luckily, the glass itself isn't broken, and the core components are probably fine. But it'll need professional tools and calibration to repair."
At his diagnosis, Sakura Eri's shoulders began to tremble. Her eyes reddened visibly, and she clutched the hem of her clothes so tightly that her knuckles turned white. To her, the camera was far more than an object. It was how she observed the world and kept a safe distance from it—an essential support that helped maintain her inner balance.
"This was entirely my fault. I was too absorbed in my thoughts and didn't watch where I was going around the corner." Feng Qi shifted his gaze from the camera to Sakura Eri's face. His tone was even, yet his decision was unmistakable. "I know a reputable Camera Repair Center outside the school with excellent technicians. I'll take you there now and make sure they restore it to its original condition. I'll cover all the costs. This was my mistake, so it's only right that I make up for it."
"N-no, you don't have to... It's really okay... It was my fault..." Sakura Eri instinctively tried to refuse, as she always did, taking the blame upon herself. She shrank back slightly, a reflex born from living in a constant state of self-protection.
"Sakura," Feng Qi interrupted, his gaze calm but firm as he looked at her, as if he could see straight through her thick lenses to the unease within. "Please let me make this right. Otherwise, I'll be left carrying the guilt of my carelessness. That's not what I want."
He was sincere and straightforward, with no hint of impatience or condescension. He was simply taking responsibility for what had happened. His attitude eased much of Sakura Eri's fear and reluctance. She lowered her head, still twisting her fingers anxiously, but at last murmured in an almost inaudible voice, "Then... sorry for the trouble... Thank you..."
Feng Qi said nothing more, only giving a slight nod before leading Sakura Eri out of the school. The repair shop he chose was in a quiet neighborhood. It was small but neat and professional, and the owner was an experienced technician who wore a Magnifying Glass and worked with intense concentration. Feng Qi readily paid an express fee well above the usual repair cost. When talking to the technician, he accurately named the camera model and lens structure, along with the delicate components that might have been damaged. His technical vocabulary and precise description of the problem made the technician look up at him more than once with admiration. He promised solemnly to repair it as quickly as possible to the highest standard.
During the more than an hour they waited for the repair, Feng Qi didn't ask out of curiosity or politeness why the camera meant so much to Sakura, nor did he try to dig into the story hidden behind her thick glasses and silence. Instead, almost casually, he turned the conversation toward photography itself: how aperture and shutter speed worked together in different lighting, how various rules of composition conveyed different emotions, and the legendary stories of famous photographers capturing decisive moments. He spoke at an unhurried pace, with insightful, profound observations. It was as if they were chatting, and yet as if he were teaching her.
At first, Sakura Eri kept her head down and occasionally gave a one-syllable response. Gradually, though, perhaps Feng Qi's genuine appreciation and understanding of photography had moved her, or perhaps the safe, nonjudgmental atmosphere he created had helped her relax. She began to look up now and then, sneaking a glance at him through her lenses. Then, in a quiet, tentative voice, she asked one or two questions about how to photograph specific scenes. Each time, Feng Qi answered patiently and evenly, as if talking with her were the most natural thing in the world.
The camera was finally restored to its original condition. After the technician's careful calibration, it even focused more accurately and quickly than before. Sakura Eri took it with great care and ran her fingertips over its cool metal body. Once she was sure it was truly undamaged, a small, relieved smile finally appeared on her face. It was faint, but utterly genuine, like the first ray of sunlight slipping through the clouds after a storm.
"Thank you... Thank you so much, Feng Qi. Not only did you get my camera fixed, but you... you stayed with me for so long." She summoned the greatest courage of her life to speak clearly. Her voice was still quiet, but it trembled much less.
"I'm relieved it's back where it belongs and working properly." Feng Qi returned a gentle smile. "You don't need to thank me. It was the right thing to do."
However, it seemed the threads of fate had not yet loosened their grip. A few days later, at dusk, Feng Qi was taking a detour behind the School Building to check the placement of the campus boundary surveillance cameras in preparation for the possible Special Exam. As he passed a corner where old equipment was stored, he happened to see Sakura Eri cornered against a wall by three rough-looking students who seemed to be from Class C. Her back was pressed tight against the cold wall. She was pale as paper and trembling uncontrollably, like a leaf withering in the winter wind. The boys were grinning as they said something. He could make out words like "take pictures," "help us out," and "don't be a spoilsport."
Feng Qi's eyes narrowed. Without a moment's hesitation, he strode over and stepped between Sakura and the troublemakers, shielding her completely with his tall frame.
"Gentlemen, is there something important you need to discuss with my classmate Sakura?" His voice wasn't loud, and he didn't sound particularly angry. Yet the calm in it, along with an intangible pressure, made the three students—who had been swaggering moments ago—freeze. They recognized Feng Qi, a boy who had recently become something of a mystery in Class D and across the year group.
"N-no, nothing... We were just saying hi, having a chat..." The one in front glanced around and muttered, trying to sound composed. He clearly didn't want a direct confrontation.
"Do you have to corner someone against a wall to say hello?" Feng Qi swept his calm gaze over the three of them. His tone was still flat, but his question was impossible to dismiss. "If you've got nothing to discuss, then leave. It's getting late. Our classmate needs to get back to the dorm."
The three exchanged glances, spat in annoyance, and, in the end, didn't dare say anything more. They hurried off in disgrace.
Only after they had disappeared from sight did Sakura Eri's body sway slightly, as if all her strength had drained away. She looked at Feng Qi's back. It wasn't particularly broad, but at that moment it seemed utterly dependable. Her heart filled with an unfamiliar feeling called "safety," and her eyes began to sting.
"They... happened to see me taking pictures of the scenery from a distance once. Then... then they wanted me to secretly take pictures of them bullying students from other classes, or... or of some other bad things. They wanted to brag or threaten people with them... I refused, so they keep coming after me..." Her halting explanation was still shaken with lingering fear, her voice small as she told Feng Qi what had happened.
"If anything like this happens again, don't face it alone." Feng Qi turned to look at her still-pale face, his tone grave. "You can tell me directly, or tell Hirata or Kushida. Remember, you're a member of Class D now. Class D may have all kinds of problems, but it won't stand by and let outsiders bully one of our classmates without doing anything. That's our bottom line."
"Class D... is one whole..." Sakura Eri murmured, repeating the words. They struck the dam around her heart—a heart long closed off, accustomed to enduring everything alone—with a warm, powerful current. No one had ever said anything like that to her. No one had ever told her so firmly that she wasn't alone.
From that day on, something hard deep inside Sakura Eri began to quietly melt. She found herself paying close attention to Feng Qi Ran. In class, when he stood to answer a question, she no longer lowered her head to avoid him; instead, she listened carefully through her lenses to his clear, logical explanations. When they happened to meet in the Corridor, she would try to steady her racing heart and summon the courage to greet him softly: "Hello, Feng Qi." She even used her camera—the one she had recovered and now treasured even more—to secretly capture him without his knowledge. Through her uniquely tender, emotional perspective, she photographed him frowning slightly as he stood lost in thought by the Basketball Court, reading quietly by a window in the Library, and walking beneath the sunset, tall and seemingly a little lonely. She carefully encrypted and stored these images, turning them into the most precious secret treasure that belonged only to her.
Feng Qi naturally noticed the shy girl's subtle change in how she treated him. He continued to maintain just the right distance, neither getting too close and startling her nor growing cold and distant. During the occasional group study or class activity, he listened patiently to even her faintest contributions and responded with an encouraging look. When she struggled with a question in one of her subjects and hesitated to ask anyone for help, he would happen to pass by and explain it in a simple, clear way. His strength, his kindness, his composure, and his precise, dependable way of doing things were like rays of sunlight, gradually breaking through the heavy gloom in her inner world and warming the long-barren land within her.
A seed called affection quietly sank into the depths of her heart, a lake whose waters she herself had not yet fully understood. It began to draw nourishment in silence, waiting for the day it would break through the soil.
All these delicate ripples of emotion unfolded quietly beneath the oppressive atmosphere of an approaching storm, before the Special Exam was officially announced. Unbeknownst to him, in this cold school where strength reigned supreme and everyone plotted against one another, Feng Qi had formed another sincere, fragile bond, free of ulterior motives. Perhaps, at some crucial moment in the future, this bond would reveal an unexpected strength.
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