The ripples from swimming class didn't fade just because the pool had gone still.
That hideous scar, Shimiya Kuki's cold remark, "I almost didn't make it," and the even more baffling "thank you" were like a boulder dropped into Class B's pool of early spring thaw. They stirred up more than splashes; they sent hidden currents swirling beneath the surface. Curiosity, speculation, and a trace of hard-to-detect fear quietly altered the class's emerging, somewhat awkward atmosphere of balance.
The "Vacuum Zone" around Shimiya Kuki's seat by the window seemed more distinct now. The polite nods and greetings he'd received before were now tinged with hesitation and a subtle sense of distance. During breaks, if a classmate accidentally dropped something near his feet, they would unconsciously stiffen, as if the area were ringed with invisible thorns. The whispers were no longer so blatant, but whenever he walked down the hall or entered the classroom, he could always feel inquisitive gazes clinging to his back.
He himself paid no attention to it—or rather, he was used to it by now. Life continued as usual: attending class, taking notes, quickly eating lunch in the farthest corner of the cafeteria (the food was as mediocre as expected, but 200 PP was tolerable for the time being), then returning to B-307. The kitchen equipment he'd bought had already been installed by the School Administration. The new pots and knives sat neatly beside the small Induction Cooker permitted in the dormitory, their cold metallic sheen symbolizing the beginning of his "Cost Control" project.
However, the outside world's reaction wasn't entirely negative.
Ichinose Honami's concern hadn't faded despite Shimiya's cool response. As Class President, she naturally cared about every member of the class, especially a classmate like Shimiya, who clearly carried a heavy past and shut himself off from everyone else. Her genuine concern wound around her heart like a vine. Several times, she'd tried to find a more natural opportunity to approach him, like lingering a few extra seconds while collecting assignments or "happening" to sit at the next table during lunch. But Shimiya Kuki's responses were always like words spoken through frosted glass—polite, brief, and impossible to fault. The kindness she offered sank like a stone into the sea, leaving only a faint trace of frustration and an even deeper worry in her bright eyes.
"Shimiya-kun, could I borrow your Math Notes from yesterday? I think I missed something." During break, Ichinose walked up to Shimiya's desk with her notebook, her face bright with an unclouded smile.
Shimiya Kuki looked up, his gaze passing calmly over her expectant face and settling on the notebook in her hands. "Sure." He pulled a sheet of neatly written Loose-leaf Paper from the open book in front of him and handed it over. "This is the key part of the derivation. The example on page 78 of the textbook is a variation."
"Oh, great! Thanks, Shimiya-kun!" Ichinose took the paper, her smile growing a little more genuine. She quickly scanned the writing, so clear it looked printed, and couldn't help praising him. "Your notes are so neat, Shimiya-kun! And your handwriting is really pretty."
"It's just a habit. Thanks for the compliment." Shimiya's voice remained as flat as ever, without a ripple. He lowered his head again, returning his gaze to the open Physics Book, his fingertip unconsciously tracing the edge of the page.
Ichinose's smile stiffened slightly, and a trace of disappointment flickered in her bright eyes. She looked at Shimiya Kuki, who was completely absorbed in his book, as if nothing outside it existed. Puffing out her cheeks, she seemed to make up her mind. Leaning forward a little, she made her voice more cheerful, though there was a hint of reproach in it. "Shimiya-kun, you're really good at killing a conversation, you know!" She blinked, trying to use a more lively tone to break through the invisible barrier.
Shimiya Kuki looked up again, meeting her expectant eyes as she tried so hard to pry open a crack. Her pure enthusiasm and kindness were as direct as sunlight, stirring an exceedingly faint ripple in his heart. He fell silent for a moment. Something seemed to stir ever so slightly in his otherwise placid eyes, but in the end, it sank back into stillness.
"Sorry," he said softly. His voice was still even, but the signal to end the conversation was clear.
"..." The smile on Ichinose Honami's face froze completely. That "sorry" was like a tiny pin, bursting the bubble she'd been trying so hard to keep afloat. Her bright eyes dimmed in an instant, and her long lashes fluttered a few times, as if to hide the embarrassment and hurt of being rejected outright. The corners of her mouth drooped, and her cheeks flushed faintly as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. She gripped the note in her hand until her knuckles turned pale.
"Al... all right." Her voice sank, with a faint nasality and clear frustration. "Then... thanks for the notes, Shimiya-kun." With that, she spun around and hurried back to her seat, taking quick little steps, almost as if she were stomping off in a huff. Her ponytail swayed behind her, and her retreating figure had a stubborn, "I'm not talking to you anymore" air about it. After sitting down, she didn't look at the notes right away. Instead, she lowered her head and absently rolled the corner of the paper between her fingers, her shoulders slumping as a faint gloom settled over her.
Unlike Ichinose's Gentle Approach, Kanzaki Ryuji chose a more direct and rational method. The scar and Shimiya's reaction had powerfully stimulated his meticulous, truth-seeking mind. This was no longer just a Silent Classmate, but a contradiction-riddled mystery waiting to be unraveled.
As soon as the dismissal bell rang, Kanzaki Ryuji positioned himself directly in Shimiya Kuki's path as he packed his School Bag. He glanced at Ichinose Honami, who was still looking down nearby, seeming a little downcast, then turned back to Shimiya. His tone held the calm certainty of someone who'd made an observation. "Ichinose-kun really cares about you. But you seem to have upset her quite a bit."
Shimiya Kuki's hands didn't pause for a moment. He slipped the last book into his bag and zipped it up in one smooth, natural motion. Then he looked up at Kanzaki, his deep-pool eyes calm and still.
"I know. She cares about every classmate. I suppose I'm a little more of a special case. I'm very grateful to her, too." His voice was quiet, and seemed to carry the faintest sigh. "Maybe... I'm just not used to school life yet. I'll work on that." The words sounded like a vague explanation, more like a statement to himself than something directed at Kanzaki, though they indirectly answered the question about Ichinose.
Kanzaki raised an eyebrow, seemingly unsurprised by the answer, but didn't press the subject of Ichinose. Instead, he got straight to the point. "About the injury you mentioned during swimming class... I looked up some information." He made no effort at small talk, his tone as objective as a researcher's. "Judging by the scar's location and shape, the possibility of a 'Penetrating Injury' you mentioned, and the raised tissue left after it healed, it seems likely that First Aid was delayed or that resources were limited. It doesn't look like it was treated in a hospital, and the scar doesn't look like it came from a traffic accident either. So I wanted to ask if you ran into any difficulties. Is there anything I can do to help as a classmate? At the very least, I don't want anyone to miss school due to health problems before we graduate."
His words were like a scalpel, cutting precisely toward the heart of what Shimiya was trying to conceal. The students nearby unconsciously slowed their movements and strained to listen.
Shimiya Kuki's hands didn't pause for a moment. He slipped the last book into his bag and zipped it up in one smooth, natural motion. Then he looked up at Kanzaki, his deep-pool eyes calm and still, as if Kanzaki's analysis had nothing to do with his own near-fatal scar.
"You're good at analyzing things, Kanzaki-kun," he said mildly. It was impossible to tell whether he meant it as praise or simply a statement. "But logic isn't a Universal Key. Some things are as they are, and don't need to conform to Common Sense Logic." He paused slightly, his gaze resting on Kanzaki's glasses for an instant, with an indescribable penetrating force. "If you insist on unlocking a past someone doesn't want to talk about, you might run into dangerous reefs."
His tone remained flat, even polite, but the words "dangerous reefs" landed in Kanzaki's heart like a cold stone. It wasn't a threat so much as a warning delivered like a statement of fact. After speaking, Shimiya Kuki gave a slight nod, slipped past Kanzaki, and headed straight for the classroom door. Kanzaki remained where he was, brows knitted and eyes alight with an even stronger but thwarted desire to investigate, along with a hint of unease at having been called out. He pushed up his glasses and murmured to himself, "Dangerous reefs...?"
Shimiya Kuki didn't head back to the dormitory. Instead, he went to the Shopping Street. He needed to confirm a few things. A week had passed, and the initial Consumption Frenzy seemed to have cooled, but the air still carried an easy sense that Points were plentiful. Students still queued at the vending machines, the smell of Baked Bread wafted from the Convenience Store, and a few students excitedly discussed the price of the newly released Limited Edition Sneakers.
His destination was clear: the box marked [Basic Supplies · Free] beside the supermarket entrance. He went to the corner and crouched down.
The items in the box were almost unchanged from what he'd seen a week ago. The Cheap Pen Refills were nearly gone, only a few Thin Notebooks with curled corners remained, and a few bars of Inferior Soap had been taken. But the coarse white bed sheets, duvet covers, and pillowcases, along with the stiff Free Towels, were still piled high. He picked up a Free Towel, and his fingertips met the same unpleasant roughness as before. Nearby, a boy in a slightly worn T-shirt frowned as he hesitantly took a set of free bedding from the box, his face full of distaste and resentment. His companion, dressed in a new Designer Sports Uniform, was munching on a Cream Bread he'd just bought for 500 PP. "Aw, just use it for now! You can get something better when next month's Points come in! This bread is so good!" He smacked his lips in satisfaction, seeming completely oblivious to his friend's predicament.
Shimiya Kuki set down the towel without expression. The Cold Sense of Reality once again confirmed his suspicions. Free supplies were both a safety net and a Mark of Shame. They clearly marked the boundary: relying on them meant accepting a bare minimum of survival, without dignity. And the promise of "next month's Points" was like a carrot dangling in front of them, sustaining their Desire for Consumption and Temporary Comfort.
He stood up and looked over the Shopping Street. Talk of sneakers, bread, and the "plentiful Points" coming next month rang clearly in his ears. They seemed immersed in Optimistic Expectation about the future, not yet truly aware of the harsh rules governing This Island: Points, their one and only "lifeblood," weren't something they could take for granted. The Initial Gift had run out, and while Hoshinomiya-sensei had only said that they would "receive the corresponding Personal Points" next month, she had never guaranteed the amount. Relying too heavily on "next month," while ignoring Current Consumption and Potential Variables, was like building a castle on shifting sand.
After buying some groceries on the Shopping Street, he turned away from its bustle. The setting sun stretched his shadow long across the clean but cold pavement. The gray-white exterior of Dormitory Building B looked even more austere in the dusk.
He swiped his card to enter B-307. Inside, the Soft Bed Sheets he'd bought shimmered faintly in the twilight.
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