Classroom of the Elite, but It's a Diary Style

The library door was pushed open quite casually, and immediately after, noisy sounds spilled out from the hallway.

The arrivals were from Class D.

To be precise, it was a group led by Hirata Yosuke, including Yamauchi Haruki, Ike Kanji, and Sudo Ken—the group of students whose grades were in serious danger of failing.

"If you didn't want to come, you could've just left," Sudo Ken said, dropping those words with a very annoyed expression.

With a complicated look on his face, Yamauchi Haruki let out a hollow sigh: "If only it were that easy to just not come..."

"Hey, hey, hey, what is wrong with you guys? Why are you both acting so weird?" Ike Kanji was incredibly shocked: "Are these even the personas you guys had before?!"

He whipped his head around to look at Sudo: "Ken, weren't you the type who used to say studying was a nuisance and that you only cared about playing basketball?!"

He then turned his head toward Yamauchi: "Haruki, weren't you the type who used to say studying was unnecessary and that a genius like you didn't need to learn anything?!"

"What has gotten into you both?!"

He couldn't understand it.

Hadn't they all agreed to slack off and mess around together? Hadn't they promised to be a bunch of losers together?

How did the two of you suddenly start getting ambitious?!

Facing Ike Kanji's questioning, Sudo Ken remained silent, while Yamauchi Haruki cast a furtive glance at Hirata.

"Ike-kun, be quiet." With a blank expression, Hirata Yosuke delivered words that allowed for no refusal.

The cold tone sent a chill crawling up the back of his neck, and Ike Kanji shut his mouth instantly.

Seeing that Ike Kanji had quieted down, Hirata Yosuke resumed his gentle expression. He looked around, found an empty table, and led the students behind him to take their seats one by one.

"Alright everyone, if you have any questions you don't understand, feel free to ask me," he said softly.

Soon, the sound of turning pages filled the air. Although he was very reluctant, Ike Kanji sat down obediently.

However, unlike the other students who had come to the library voluntarily, he hadn't brought anything with him.

"Ken, lend me a book." He dragged his chair over to Sudo Ken's side and grabbed a random book, not even checking which subject it was.

He wasn't actually planning on studying, but since everyone else around him was reading, he felt uncomfortable doing nothing.

"..."

Sudo Ken didn't reply, so Ike Kanji took it as tacit consent. He opened the book, held it up to his face as a shield, and once again hunched his shoulders, leaning in close to Sudo Ken.

"Hey, Ken, we're friends, right?" he whispered, keeping a wary eye on Hirata Yosuke's movements. "If you still think of me as a friend, tell me, have you been possessed by some weird, dirty spirit?"

Friend.

Sudo Ken gently chewed on the word in his heart.

That's right, Kanji was his friend.

He was the only friend he had made in this high school, having been isolated for a time back in middle school.

"..." Sudo Ken let out a hollow sigh and said, "I haven't been possessed by anything weird, and my brain isn't broken."

"How should I put it? I guess I've just started to see myself clearly."

It was so ridiculous.

Whether it was life, or the basketball he was so proud of.

He had thought basketball was the only thing he could accept, the only thing he could be proud of.

But the harder he tried, the more clearly he realized the distinct, insurmountable line between humans and those who were something else entirely.

...Actually, he shouldn't have compromised and given up so early. No matter what, if he hadn't tried it himself, hadn't challenged those people, and hadn't seen what "true basketball" looked like with his own eyes, he wouldn't have been convinced.

The game footage of the Generation of Miracles was terrifying—so terrifying that everyone would doubt its authenticity, doubting whether what they had been playing all these years was even basketball at all.

But that was just footage, after all.

Since the upperclassmen on the basketball team were still working hard, and since they firmly believed they could succeed.

Then Sudo Ken felt that he should be able to as well.

Having once been depressed, he regained his spirit, intending to find the reason why those people could perform such inhuman feats through grueling training.

On one of the days he was adding extra practice, he accidentally overheard the truth while the upperclassmen had forgotten he was there.

"You guys can do it, you are the future of basketball!"

"Pfft, hahaha, did you see the look on those freshmen's faces? They actually think they can beat those monsters."

"Seriously, if it weren't to get the budget from the school to keep the club running, I wouldn't want to play house with them like this."

"Just coast through it, and after graduation, let the school recommend us to some local school to work as basketball coaches; that's enough. Is working that hard even useful?"

"Don't say that. If the freshmen didn't train so hard, what would we use to deal with the school? As long as we shout slogans and make them work hard, setting a goal that sounds impressive but is impossible to achieve, we can get funding from the school. Where else would you find such a good deal?"

"Besides, they'll only work hard for a year. Once they go out and see a real game, their confidence will be shattered, and they'll end up just like us."

"Huhu, passion and youth, striving! Hahaha..."

The voices of the upperclassmen faded into the distance, but Sudo Ken was left hiding in the restroom, pressing his hands against the wall as cold sweat poured down his body.

His heart pounded in his chest. Despite the sweltering summer heat, he felt a bone-chilling cold.

Just to cope with the school?

A game of house?

Just to secure the funding?

...Then what on earth had he been training so hard for?

Sudo Ken jolted awake.

It was as if he had just had a nightmare; he sat bolt upright, drenched in cold sweat.

If, if the path of basketball didn't work out...

For the first time, he began to seriously contemplate a question he had never considered before.

Looking at the passing line drawn by Chabashira Sae, looking at the glaring '0' on the blackboard, and looking at the game footage on his Personal Terminal that he had replayed countless times yet still couldn't comprehend.

Sudo Ken began to panic.

Eh?

Why did things suddenly turn out like this?

If I really get expelled, what, what should I do?

He was only a first-year in high school, and his wonderful high school life had only just begun, yet Sudo Ken felt inexplicably nervous.

He had already spent the first half of his life in the mud. If he had to spend the rest of his life in the mud as well, and if he had to rely on that father of his who made him sick just looking at him—

He would rather study.

"Let's study. Studying never hurts." With a faint sigh, Sudo Ken gently patted Ike Kanji on the shoulder.

This was his heartfelt advice to his friend.

Ike Kanji: "???"

Sudo has lost it.

No, no, he couldn't give in yet.

Gritting his teeth, Ike Kanji grabbed Sudo's textbook and stood up on tiptoes, intending to sneak over to Yamauchi Haruki's side.

Haruki, if it's Haruki, he'll definitely understand me!

Studying or whatever, as long as you cram at the last minute, you can pass easily!

He cast a look of hope and expectation toward the seat where he remembered Yamauchi Haruki sitting, and then, Ike Kanji saw a pair of eyes.

"..." Hirata Yosuke was watching him.

"Eek—" With a violent shudder, Ike Kanji quickly ducked his head.

However, if ducking your head were useful, ostrich culture would have been popularized long ago.

"You keep doing the problems." Gently patting Yamauchi Haruki on the shoulder beside him, Hirata Yosuke walked over to Ike Kanji with a kind smile.

He bent down and whispered, "Ike-kun, it's about time you started studying, too."

"Y-yes, yes..."

"Eh..." A trace of surprise appeared in Asakusa Toru's eyes.

He had been observing from the very beginning. He had assumed the dregs of Class D had come to the library to disturb everyone's studies, but to his surprise, aside from the initial shouting from Ike Kanji, they were unexpectedly quiet.

The most impatient one, Sudo Ken, was studying of his own accord; the most hopeless one, Yamauchi Haruki, had been suppressed by Hirata Yosuke; and even the most restless one, Ike Kanji, hadn't escaped Hirata Yosuke's clutches.

Are you really still Hirata Yosuke?

In his impression, shouldn't Hirata Yosuke be that kind of... great guy who is good at smoothing things over, always wanting everyone to get along, and making sure not a single classmate is left behind?

Oh no, I can't call him a low-budget Hayama anymore.

Normally, at this point, Horikita and Kushida should have stepped up to find a way to get this bunch of dregs to pass. Unexpectedly, now that he had been busy dropping spoilers in his Diary, Horikita and Kushida were hanging out together, while Hirata had stepped up to play the role of the mother instead.

Unexpected.

However... if he remembered correctly, the homeroom teacher of Class D, Chabashira Sae, was still going to stir up trouble with the midterm exams.

He wondered how much more resentment they would harbor toward Chabashira Sae once they realized that the direction of their diligent efforts was based on the wrong exam scope.

Click, click, click. Should he write in his Diary to warn Little Sister-chan?

"(Poke)" Just as Asakusa Toru was thinking this, the girl behind him suddenly raised her hand and poked him, followed by handing over a piece of white paper with writing on it.

On the white paper, elegant handwriting had written the following passage.

[If you had one chance to leave a message directly to your favorite author, what would you say?]

Chapter 80: Which author is this, for heaven's sake?

Writing notes.

For students, it is the most common way to chat, second only to whispering.

This usually happens in the classes of strict teachers with sharp ears, or in environments that are deathly quiet.

With a single sheet of paper and a pen, two desk-mates can chat about anything from the heavens to the earth, from their childhood upbringing to launching Genshin Impact.

In the library where everyone was quietly studying, although it wasn't strictly forbidden to whisper, our beautiful and kind-hearted Shiina Hiyori still chose to use written notes to pose this question to her rare friend.

[If you had a chance to leave a message directly to your favorite author, what would you say?]

...What kind of question is that?

Looking at the line of text on the paper in his hand, Asakusa Toru raised an eyebrow.

As for leaving messages or not, don't most authors nowadays have their own personal accounts on social media? As long as you @ them, your message can basically be seen.

Therefore, the key point of this question lies in the word "directly."

To translate it slightly, this question is actually asking, "If you had a real-life opportunity to meet your favorite author, what would you do?"

"..."

Normally, when encountering a question, the vast majority of people react by thinking about the answer to the question, and only then do they ponder other related matters.

But Asakusa Toru was different; he liked to speculate on the other person's motives first.

So...

Guessing time: what was the purpose of the library's resident NPC suddenly asking a question like this?

One, she just had a sudden whim and started asking questions based on hypothetical conditions.

Two, she felt that even though she was supposed to be tutoring someone, she was just making him do problems, and feeling bored, she decided to come and harass him.

Three, she obtained an opportunity to leave a direct message or question for her favorite author and wanted to use his thoughts as a reference.

Four, she likes me.