Ice Scars and Faint Light

Inside the office of the Chairman of Tokyo Koudo Ikusei High School, the air was so still it felt as if time itself had frozen. Chairman Sakayanagi Narumori sat upright behind his massive desk, his gaze sharp as a torch, scrutinizing two files that were vastly different yet subtly intertwined.

The one on the left bore the name "Ayanokoji Kiyotaka." His academic ability, intelligence, judgment, and physical prowess were all marked by the system as slightly below average. However, a glaring "Special Notation" revealed something unusual: these scores were "intentionally controlled, reason unknown." The cold, ambiguous "CD (due to special notation)" class assignment recommendation lay at the bottom, like a layer of deliberately applied mist.

The one on the right was named "Shimiya Kuki." Under the same testing metrics, his evaluation was a striking "Top Student." Yet, beneath this dazzling report card was branded a heavier truth: "Special Notation: Physical examination revealed multiple scars. The most severe is on the chest, extending diagonally from the left clavicle to the upper abdomen, 20 centimeters in length. The scar morphology indicates a deep open wound, posing a fatal risk." Consequently, the class assignment recommendation pointed to "D (due to special notation)."

Two files—one intentionally hidden, the other covered in scars—confronted each other in the silent air.

"Knock, knock, knock." A steady rhythm broke the silence.

"Please, enter."

The door opened slightly. The youth who walked in stood tall with refined features. His eyes were as deep as an ancient well, calmly reflecting the room's furnishings without a trace of the curiosity or agitation one would expect from a boy his age. His posture was relaxed yet possessed an almost instinctive coordination; his gait was precise, carrying a composure that far exceeded his years. It was the top student from the file—Shimiya Kuki.

"Greetings, Chairman Yanagi. I am the student here for the interview, Shimiya Kuki. I look forward to your guidance." His voice was clear and steady, devoid of inflection. His bow was standard and fluid, as if measured by precision instruments.

"Hello, Shimiya Kuki. Please, have a seat." Yanagi gestured toward the sofa, his gaze sizing him up with a gentle air.

The youth sat as instructed, his back straight, hands placed neatly on his knees. His face held no expression, as calm as an iceberg that refused to melt.

"No need to be nervous; this is just a routine pre-enrollment interview." Yanagi's tone was soft, attempting to cultivate a relaxed atmosphere.

"Understood, Chairman." Shimiya Kuki gave a slight nod, his eyes focused on Yanagi to show he was listening, his face still revealing no emotion.

Yanagi picked up the report card marked "Top Student" and posed the first question: "So, what is your goal for enrolling? How do you hope to spend your three years of high school life?"

A brief silence followed. Deep within the youth's eyes, which resembled a deep pool, a faint, almost imperceptible trace of confusion flickered. His voice remained steady, carrying the candor of a factual statement:

"Due to certain reasons, my emotions have been suppressed or are even missing. I hope to retrieve these lost emotions and make myself whole." He explained with clear logic, as if analyzing a math problem.

"Science suggests that the three places where humans most easily acquire emotions are the home, the school, and the workplace. I am an orphan; I have temporarily lost my home, and whether I will regain one in the future is unknown. The workplace can be entered at any time. But one only experiences each stage of school once. Therefore, I have chosen to try and retrieve my missing emotions through school life."

Beneath the concise and powerful words, that open-ended statement regarding the possibility of a future family subtly revealed a deep-seated, subconscious longing for connection.

Yanagi's fingertip tapped lightly on the glaring notation regarding the scars, his tone carrying the weight of concern: "Is that so? The records show you have many scars, and a fatal wound on your chest that could have been life-threatening. May I learn the origin of these marks?" His sharp gaze pierced the youth's eyes, attempting to penetrate that calm shell of ice.

"I apologize, Chairman." The youth's voice dropped a notch, his steadiness forming an unquestionable barrier. "I cannot answer that. I do not wish to share those memories with anyone for the time being. I hope that the life of 'Shimiya Kuki' begins anew with this enrollment. My apologies." The refusal was crisp and clean, leaving no room for negotiation. Behind this determination, Yanagi felt not coldness, but a self-protection so heavy it was sighing.

Sakayanagi Narumori stared at him intently. Exceptional aptitude (as evidenced by his grades), the fatal scars and unspeakable past hidden beneath a calm facade, and the intense desire to sever the past and start anew—all these elements intertwined in his mind.

"I understand." Yanagi finally nodded, a gentle smile appearing on his face. "Then, Shimiya Kuki, welcome to Ikusei High School. I hope you can achieve your goals during your three years here. You will be contacted in advance regarding specific school rules and your enrollment date. Goodbye."

"Thank you for your time. Goodbye." Shimiya Kuki stood, bowed, and moved with fluid, silent grace. He turned and left, his tall back carrying a sense of lonely isolation. The door closed softly, sealing off the inside from the outside.

Sakayanagi Narumori leaned back into his chair, his gaze falling once more on the file belonging to Shimiya Kuki. Only the ticking of the clock remained in the office, like the second hand of fate turning in silence.

A genius whose report card shone with "Top Student" status.

A youth whose body was inscribed with fatal scars and whose eyes were as still as a deep pool.

A soul yearning to retrieve emotions and reshape himself within the school.

A resolute declaration that had completely sealed away a heavy past.

Yanagi picked up his pen and, in the blank space at the bottom of the file, carefully wrote his comments and final ruling, his strokes carrying both scrutiny and a hint of expectation:

[Chairman's Comments and Class Assignment Ruling:]

"This student possesses exceptional fundamental qualities; his academic ability, intelligence, judgment, and physical fitness are all at a top-tier level. However, he bears the marks of non-daily trauma, his past is a mystery, and there are significant abnormalities in his mental state (lack of emotional expression, strong defense mechanisms).

Based on standard evaluation criteria, his physical and mental state holds significant hidden risks, fitting the profile of Class D (Flawed Product). However, the student has clearly expressed a strong desire to 'use enrollment as a new starting point in life' and 'reshape himself through school life.' This desire itself indicates that his core consciousness remains malleable and possesses a tendency toward the good; his mental core has not been completely twisted or solidified by his past. He is like a piece of 'paper' that, while stained with the ink of the past, has an undefined base color and is waiting to be rewritten.

If placed directly into the environment of Class C or D, his potential instability and the shadows of his past would, with high probability, be catalyzed by competition and pressure toward a malignant development, potentially becoming a destructive factor. Class A requires purity and high controllability; his emotional deficit and potential trauma risks do not meet the standard. Considering his exceptional foundation, desire for self-reinvention, and potential risks, I rule: place him in Class B.

The atmosphere in Class B is relatively stable, centered on healthy competition with moderate interpersonal pressure. Furthermore, students like Ichinose Honami, who has already passed the interview, possess strong inclusivity and positive leadership. This environment is most likely to provide the stable space and gentle soil needed for him to 'rewrite' himself, helping the unextinguished goodness within him take root and sprout, encouraging him to develop in a healthy, complete direction. I hope he finds his own color in Class B."

Finishing his writing, Yanagi filed Shimiya Kuki's folder into the "Processed" stack. His gaze then shifted to the file next to it, belonging to Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, marked with the "CD" recommendation.

"Now then, the next one..." he muttered to himself. The office door was knocked upon once again.

Not long after, on a path through the cherry blossom-filled campus of Ikusei High School.

Shimiya Kuki, having just completed his enrollment procedures, was walking toward the dormitory. This was the first time he had truly, without any ulterior motive, scanned his surroundings—lush trees swaying in the breeze, clean school buildings reflecting the sunlight, and peers in brand-new uniforms, their faces brimming with excitement for the future or the nervousness of being newcomers. To him, all of this was as foreign as another world.

"Emotions... complete..." he repeated his goal in a low voice, his words dissipating into the flower-scented breeze without sparking any emotional echo, as hollow as the reverberation of a valley.

Just as he passed through a forest of cherry blossoms that looked like snow and clouds, a gentle female voice accompanied by kind laughter drifted over.

"It's alright, don't worry. Shall I help you to the infirmary? Be careful now..."

The warmth in that voice made him instinctively glance over—

Not far away, under a cherry blossom tree, a girl with honey-colored hair reaching her waist was crouching on the ground, carefully checking the ankle of a girl who seemed to have twisted her foot. Sunlight pierced through the layers of petals, scattering like crushed gold upon her. She looked up and offered a smile to her injured classmate. That smile was pure, bright, and devoid of any haze, warm enough to melt the hardest ice, and filled with an unguarded sincerity and kindness.

That smile, like an unexpected beam of light, crashed into Shimiya Kuki's frozen field of vision.

His footsteps faltered, imperceptibly.

Those eyes, which had always been calm and unwavering, reflecting the world while refusing to resonate with it, were for the first time truly attracted by something, lingering. It was as if a small but scorching stone had been dropped into a frozen lake.

A ripple, extremely faint and so foreign that he could not understand it at all, began to spread slowly and tentatively deep within his silent heart. He did not know that the girl with the smile that could melt ice and snow was named Ichinose Honami, nor could he have known that in the cruel classroom of Ikusei High School, which practiced "Survival of the Fittest," this kindness—which appeared so "fragile" amidst the competition—would become the only coordinate for him to redefine himself and find the meaning of emotion.

His new life began with this silent, lingering gaze.

Beneath the ice, a seed called "touch" had quietly fallen into the barren field of his heart.