Pleasant Cooperation!

The school bell tore through the evening silence, leaving only two days until the Midterm Exams. The atmosphere in Class B's classroom had shifted from mutual sprinting to individual final reviews. Most study groups had disbanded; students buried themselves in their own notes and exercise books, the air filled with the rustling of paper and the scratching of pens. Thanks to precise tutoring over the past period, Shimiya Kuki occasionally had classmates approach him with tough problems, and his clear, concise guidance always brought sudden clarity. Ichinose Honami watched this scene, an unconscious smile of relief spreading across her face—the invisible wall between Kuki-kun and the rest of the class seemed to have eroded quite a bit under their shared goal.

Shibata Hayato clutched his nearly worn-out physics exercise book, sweating profusely as he squeezed up to Shimiya's desk: "Shimiya! This energy conservation comprehensive problem—I've drawn the diagram several times, but I'm still stuck on the third part..."

Shimiya Kuki glanced at the problem Shibata pointed to, barely pausing before speaking: "Sorry, Shibata." His voice remained steady, yet carried an undeniable distance. "I have other things today. Ask Kanzaki to help you."

Kanzaki Ryuji, who was packing his school bag nearby, heard this, pushed up his glasses, and responded calmly: "Shibata, let me take a look." He turned to Shimiya, his gaze carrying understanding and concern. "You really do need a day off. Go ahead. I'll cover for you today."

"Thanks, then." Shimiya said no more, gave a slight nod, quickly gathered his things, picked up his school bag, and left his seat.

Not far away, Ichinose Honami, who was helping Ohashi Yume sort through Classical Japanese knowledge points, noticed the commotion. She saw Shimiya's retreating figure, then looked at Shibata, who had started rethinking with Kanzaki's help. A flicker of worry passed through her bright eyes, but she quickly suppressed it. She took a deep breath, refocusing on the textbook in front of her and the slightly nervous Ohashi Yume, her voice gentle yet firm: "Come on, Kobashi-san, let's continue with this grammar point..."

Shimiya Kuki left the school building, not heading back to the dormitory, but walking straight toward the school's shopping street. Dusk deepened; the shopping street's lights began to glow, shop signs flashing enticingly. The aroma of food mixed with students' chatter and laughter, full of lively, bustling energy. It had been a long time since he'd come here after school—ever since Ichinose had taken over the joint dorm's ingredient shopping, this bustling street had faded from his daily routine.

He didn't stop at the main street's dazzling shops but turned familiarly into a relatively quiet alley. The alley wasn't long; at its end, a café named "Ismo" stood quietly. Dark brown wooden storefront, warm yellow light streaming through polished glass windows, a delicate copper bell hanging at the entrance, and a few ivy vines twined around the doorframe, adding a vintage touch. Most striking was the spacious balcony terrace extending from the second floor, cleverly divided into relatively private booths by greenery and half-height wooden fences, with soft string lights swaying gently in the breeze—a hidden oasis in the midst of the bustling city.

Shimiya pushed open the door, the copper bell letting out a crisp jingle. He didn't linger on the first floor but walked straight up the corner wooden stairs to the terrace. There were few guests on the terrace; he headed to the innermost booth, half-hidden by lush pothos.

"Sorry, I'm late," Shimiya said flatly as he sat down across from the booth.

"No, I just arrived early," replied a woman already seated in the booth. She looked a few years older than Shimiya, with thick, slightly wavy dark brown hair casually draped over her shoulders, a few unruly strands brushing against her face, which had somewhat sharp yet beautiful lines. Her figure was excellent; she wore a well-tailored dark shirt, the top two buttons casually undone, hinting at her full chest, while her waist was surprisingly slender, wrapped in fitted trousers. She exuded a lazy, casual aura with a strong presence, her eyes bright and sharp, a faint, ambiguous smile curling at her lips—the archetypal "big sister" figure who had weathered storms.

She slid a menu over with a carefree, offhand gesture: "Want something to drink? The coffee here isn't bad."

"I'm not very familiar with this place," Shimiya said, his gaze sweeping over the menu without lingering. "I'll leave it to the senpai to recommend."

"Heh, still so cautious." The senpai chuckled lightly, unconcerned, and raised a hand to snap her fingers.

Soon, a waitress in a classic black-and-white maid uniform approached. She looked very young, with a delicate face, but her eyes weren't as docile as an ordinary server's; instead, they carried a sharp alertness. She gave a slight bow: "Guests, what would you like?" Her voice was crisp, her movements standard, but her straight back and the quick scan she gave Shimiya revealed she wasn't just an ordinary employee.

"Signature coffee, two cups," the senpai ordered.

"Understood. Please wait a moment." The maid waitress responded briskly, turned, and left.

During the wait for coffee, Shimiya took a thin kraft paper file from his school bag and slid it across the table to the senpai: "This is what was agreed upon."

The senpai's smile faded slightly. She picked up the file, unhurriedly unsealed it, and pulled out a few pages of documents. She began reading them page by page, her initially playful expression gradually turning serious, her brow furrowing tighter. The terrace lights cast shifting shadows on her face, and the atmosphere grew heavy. Finally, she finished the last page, let out a long, silent sigh, gently closed the documents, and set them back on the table.

"Ah..." Her sigh carried understanding and a hint of weight. "So that's how it is."

Shimiya watched her quietly, his dark eyes deep: "It seems the senpai isn't surprised."

The senpai looked up, her gaze complex as it fixed on Shimiya, as if trying to pierce through his calm: "Surprised? Hah, I just didn't want to believe it. Your investigation is perfect, almost... flawless." She paused, the bitterness in her eyes replaced by resolve. "Maybe we really can try cooperating."

"Then," Shimiya's voice remained steady but carried a note of confirmation, "do I have the qualifications to cooperate with the senpai?"

The senpai stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly, that familiar, slightly wild smile returned to her face, though a trace of barely perceptible bitterness lingered in its depths: "Of course! Your 'ticket' is substantial enough. Brat, you're more interesting than I imagined." She raised the coffee cup that the maid waitress had just delivered, still steaming. "To our... pleasant cooperation?"

Shimiya also lifted his coffee cup and lightly clinked it against hers. The ceramic made a crisp "ding," distinct in the quiet terrace. "To pleasant cooperation."

"Oh, right," the senpai said, as if suddenly remembering something. She took a smaller folder, stamped with the school emblem, from her bag and slid it across to Shimiya, a peculiar, almost teasing expression on her face. "You've got midterms coming up, right? First cooperation, here's a little 'welcome gift' from your senpai."

Shimiya picked up the folder and opened it. Inside were several clearly printed exam sample sheets. He quickly scanned the questions, his expression utterly unchanged.

The senpai took a leisurely sip of her coffee, watching his reaction with interest: "What do you think? Interesting, isn't it?"

"Indeed." Shimiya closed the folder and naturally tucked it into his school bag. "Then, senpai, I'll take my leave." He stood up.

"Take care, brat. Good luck on your exams!" The senpai leaned back in her chair and waved at him, her smile still carrying that big-sisterly boldness.

Shimiya gave a slight nod, turned, and left the terrace booth.

Not long after his figure disappeared at the stairway, the maid waitress quickly slipped into the booth, her professional smile gone, replaced by tension and gravity: "Big Sister, how was it? Is he reliable?"

The senpai didn't answer immediately. Instead, she pushed the documents Shimiya had brought back across the table to the waitress.

The waitress picked up the documents and flipped through them rapidly. As she read, her face visibly turned pale, and her fingers holding the paper even trembled slightly. She looked up sharply, her voice carrying disbelief, anger, and a hint of fear: "This... how is this possible?! Then what do we do now?"

The senpai picked up her now-cooled coffee, her gaze following Shimiya's figure as he merged into the crowd below, her eyes deep and unreadable: "For now, carry on as usual. And then..." She paused, a complex curve forming at her lips, "let's see what kind of 'surprise' our 'partner' can bring us."

"Big Sister," the waitress's voice was anxious, "do you really trust him? What if..."

"Trust? It's too early to say that now," the senpai interrupted, her tone carrying a calm like burning one's bridges. "But we have to try. Anyway..." She drained the remaining coffee in one gulp, the bitter taste spreading in her mouth, "we can't get much worse than this."

Shimiya Kuki walked back toward the dormitory. The bustle of the shopping street gradually fell behind; the tree-lined path to the dormitory area was much quieter. The streetlights were already on, casting long shadows on the ground. As he passed a set of categorized trash bins by the roadside, he didn't pause for a moment, didn't even glance at them. With extreme naturalness, he reached into his school bag, pulled out the school-emblem-stamped folder, and gave a slight flick of his wrist.

The folder landed precisely into the opening of the "Other Trash" bin, making a soft "thud." Inside lay that "gift" that would drive countless students mad—a set of exam papers containing the questions from a recent important quiz, identical to the ones already taken, and also all the questions for the upcoming Midterm Exams. Crucially, the midterm questions were entirely within the scope the teachers had previously outlined. This was practically the real exam questions.

Yet this readily available "shortcut" was discarded without hesitation by Shimiya Kuki.

Class B didn't need it. They had worked so hard for this, with precise diagnostics and efficient mutual help, each person clearly seeing their weaknesses and striving to overcome them. They should, and must, rely on their own strength to achieve real results. That was the foundation of the path to Class A.

Dusk fully settled; the dormitory building's lights were in sight. Shimiya Kuki calmly pushed open the dormitory's front door, his figure disappearing into the warm glow. The secret in the trash bin, as if it had never existed, was utterly forgotten under the dim streetlight.