Classroom of the Elite, After the Intel Refreshed, They Always Want to Conquer Me! 21

Just a few well-placed compliments were enough to make Kushida Kikyou noticeably lower her guard—she even unconsciously slipped into a state of self-intoxication.

Although it wasn't clear what she had originally intended to gain from him, it was obvious that her rhythm had been disrupted.

(Complimenting people is all about technique...)

The key lies in pinpointing the exact thing the other person cares about most.

For someone like Kushida Kikyou, the word "effort" seemed to carry a certain magic.

Especially when Shimizu Akira accurately pointed out the fact that she had been sneaking in practice over the weekend, that complex sense of pleasure—being seen through and yet acknowledged—was more satisfying than any flattery.

As for the remark, "You're the only one in the class who practiced swimming ahead of time," that was a complete lie.

After all, he was neither an expert on human skin tones nor did he possess any special abilities; how could he possibly discern the skin tone changes of the entire class at a glance? The truth was simple—he had merely known in advance that Kushida Kikyou had gone to the swimming pool over the weekend—information that had refreshed on his system last Saturday.

But then again, this kind of white lie was completely harmless.

Much like a waiter casually calling a customer "handsome" at a restaurant, even though one knows it's just polite talk, it still makes one feel pleasant to hear.

In the end, Horikita Suzune and Onodera tied for first place with an excellent time of 26 seconds.

Kushida Kikyou took third place with a time of 31 seconds.

As the swimming lesson neared its end, Shimizu Akira noticed Kushida frequently casting meaningful glances toward Horikita Suzune.

Those eyes, which were always curved into crescents, were now dim and unreadable, and although the corners of her mouth were turned up, there was an indescribable sense of dissonance.

(So concerned about the ranking?)

Shimizu Akira pondered to himself.

(It seems the door at her place is going to suffer again tonight.)

Advanced Nurturing High School was no different from the vast majority of ordinary high schools in Japan.

The curriculum followed tradition, covering basic subjects such as Japanese, Mathematics, English, Social Studies, and Science, with each subject graded on a 100-point scale.

After a week of adjustment, Shimizu Akira had fully mastered the progress of the Mathematics and English courses, to the point where he could even handle them with ease.

He hardly needed to pay deliberate attention to follow the pace of instruction.

On one hand, this was thanks to the solid foundation he had built while receiving an education in China during his previous life; on the other hand, there was indeed a significant gap between the teaching pace of Japanese high schools and those in China.

If one were to use educational progress as an analogy, the Mathematics curriculum in China was like a speeding Shinkansen, while the pace of Japanese high schools was more like a leisurely sightseeing train; in terms of the difficulty of university entrance exams, China's were still much greater.

After all, the Japanese education system had been following the "relaxed education" policy for quite a long time.

As for the current state of education in China, Shimizu Akira didn't know much—at least in the era he remembered, students lived what could be called a "demonic schedule": waking up bleary-eyed at six in the morning for early self-study, and not leaving the classroom until nine at night, dragging their exhausted bodies home.

By comparison, the schedule of a Japanese high school could be called "paradise mode": classes didn't start until eight-thirty in the morning, and students could walk out of the classroom with their bags before four in the afternoon.

Shimizu Akira wasn't trying to criticize this difference—after all, in Japan, the real competition often began after school.

Those brightly lit cram schools were packed with students desperately trying to get into prestigious universities; this educational ecosystem of "relaxed on the surface, high-pressure underneath" was perhaps even more suffocating than the "open competition" of China.

However, in a fully enclosed campus like Advanced Nurturing High School, students didn't even have the opportunity to look for cram schools—after all, it was isolated from the world, and even the most basic channels for extracurricular tutoring were cut off.

But Shimizu Akira knew a universal truth: whether in China or Japan, as long as one could solidly master the three core subjects of Japanese, Mathematics, and English, it was enough to maintain an above-average grade in the class.

These three subjects were like the "golden triangle" of education, testing a student's most basic and important abilities—Mathematics honed logical thinking, English tested memory and linguistic talent, while Japanese cultivated both perceptual cognition and writing skills.

For Shimizu Akira, however, the Japanese class had become the one hurdle he could never quite clear.

Even after a week, those obscure classical grammar rules—the "irrealis form," the "continuative form"—remained tangled in his mind like a mess of yarn.

He had to admit that he was probably a disgrace to the vast ranks of transmigrators.

After all, in his previous life, he hadn't even touched the surface of Japanese grammar, and now, trying to force his way through this knowledge was like asking a modern person to suddenly decipher oracle bone script—no matter how hard he tried, he was inevitably confused.

037 Wearing something like that! My child is only looking at the teacher during class!

Failing even one subject in the midterms or finals meant expulsion.

This was one of the key hidden rules at Advanced Nurturing High School.

The senior from Class D had specifically warned him before she left:

"Even if you lose to other classes, or just scrape by on free meals every month, just don't get expelled for poor grades—that would be too embarrassing."

Shimizu Akira certainly didn't want to leave in such a humiliating way.

But this school was clearly not ordinary—what kind of high school forced expulsion for failing a single subject?

The only good news was that the midterm exams were still more than a month away.

Starting from scratch to cram for Japanese, and at least pushing to the passing line, should still be possible.

But standing before him were three great mountains: Modern Japanese, Classical Japanese, and Classical Chinese.

He could barely manage Modern Japanese, but Classical Japanese was like a heavenly book—even though his eyes were filled with familiar kanji, they were obscure and difficult to understand when combined.

(It feels very similar to the Classical Chinese I learned in my previous life... but because it's Japanese, the difficulty is multiplied several times over!)

But what was even trickier was that the same kanji could have over a dozen readings in Classical Japanese, and the meaning could change entirely due to the connection of grammatical particles.

It was like facing encrypted text, yet the key was hidden deep within the passage of time.

"My head is killing me..."

After the Japanese literature class ended in the afternoon, Shimizu Akira rubbed his temples as usual, his fingertips pressing against his throbbing nerves.

Japanese literature wasn't like mathematics or English—at least on the surface, it didn't seem so "unapproachable." Even an elementary school student could understand parts of it. But once he delved into the usage of each kanji or the sound-change rules in classical language, his brain felt like it had been filled with lead, sinking heavily into a fog.

(They're all kanji... so why does it feel like a code when they're put together?)

While he was lost in thought, a faint, delicate voice drifted into his ears—

"U-um... Shimizu-kun, thank you... for speaking up for me yesterday..."

He turned his head to find his desk neighbor to his right, Sakura Airi, looking down with her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her skirt.

Her voice was as light as a feather; had his hearing not been sharp, he would have almost mistaken it for the wind brushing past the window.

"It's nothing! I was just in a bad mood that day, and besides, that guy is a troublemaker who skips class all the time anyway."

Shimizu Akira waved his hand, his tone somewhat casual.

That wasn't entirely an excuse—he really was in a bad mood that day, and it was true that he found Yamauchi Haruki annoying.

(After all, for the "feat" of scoring a zero in Class D, that guy is at least half responsible, and Ike Kanji and a few other boys were led astray by him too...)

"..."

Sakura Airi remained silent for a long time.

Her gaze swept quietly over the almost brand-new Japanese literature textbook on Shimizu Akira's desk—the spine was crisp, the edges of the pages were pristine, and there were barely any creases, clearly showing it hadn't been flipped through much.

(As I thought... he must be struggling a lot with Japanese literature...)

She parted her lips slightly, as if wanting to say something, but in the end, she just bit her lower lip gently and swallowed the words back.

"Oh, right!" Shimizu Akira lowered his voice, looking serious. "Just to confirm one thing—you really didn't confess to Yamauchi Haruki, did you?"

"...I didn't!"

This time, Sakura Airi's voice rose significantly, causing a few students in the front row to turn around in curiosity.

She hurriedly covered her mouth, the tips of her ears instantly turning red as if they were about to bleed.

Sakura Airi's gaze lingered on Shimizu Akira's face for a brief moment before she lowered her head quickly like a startled small animal.

Shimizu Akira raised an eyebrow, his gaze resting on her slightly reddened ear tips for a moment.

(Looks like that really wasn't the case...)

(Still, come to think of it, she really is the type who isn't good at talking to others.)

After school, Shimizu Akira finished his meal and headed straight to find Horikita Suzune.

He had originally thought she would still be angry about the mention of her brother during physical education and might not agree to go to the office to see Chabashira Sae.

To his surprise, although the girl kept her face cold and stiff, she followed his footsteps without a word.

When Shimizu Akira pushed open the office door, Chabashira Sae, whom he had expected to see, was not there.

In her place was a young woman wearing a pale pink silk shirt, leaning casually against the desk.

The hem of the shirt was loosely tucked into high-waisted shorts, outlining a slender waistline.

The most eye-catching feature was those long legs—made to look even straighter and more symmetrical by the shorts.

Her style of dress was far too casual, a far cry from the image people had of a teacher—yet at this moment, she was sitting squarely in a teacher's office chair.

Under normal circumstances, the standard attire for a female teacher should be a well-tailored suit skirt paired with modest black stockings, just like the rigorous and orderly Chabashira Sae.

But this person in front of him...

She was like the classic negative example that would appear in a parent's complaint letter—"How can you dress like this! My child just stares at the teacher during class, and their grades dropping is all your fault!" The kind of "problem teacher" who would be jointly protested against by students' mothers.

However, in the fully enclosed Advanced Nurturing High School, it was almost impossible for parents to visit and observe like in ordinary schools—after all, even the existence of a regular parent-teacher meeting system was a mystery.

Just as Shimizu Akira was lost in thought, the female teacher had already keenly sensed the movement at the door.

She tilted her head slightly, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth: "Oh my? Which teacher are you two cute students looking for?"

"Chabashira-sensei." Horikita Suzune stated the name of their homeroom teacher stiffly, her tone clearly suppressing a sense of dissatisfaction.

"Eh? Looking for Sae-chan—" The female teacher tapped her chin with her fingertip, the overly intimate nickname making Shimizu Akira realize instantly that the two had a close relationship. "She was just in the office a moment ago~"

Seeing her make a move to invite them inside to wait, Horikita Suzune immediately refused coldly: "That won't be necessary."

Surprisingly, this young teacher took the initiative to walk out into the hallway. She pointed her right index finger casually at her own face, "Let me introduce myself formally. I am Hoshinomiya Chie, the homeroom teacher for Class B. I've been inseparable from Sae-chan since high school! We still call each other 'Sae-chan' and 'Chie-chan' to this day~"

Afterward, the teacher named Hoshinomiya Chie leaned in close to Horikita Suzune as if she had discovered a new continent, "Your temperament is so similar to Sae-chan's. But why did she specifically call you two over? It's so suspicious."

She blinked her curious eyes, her index finger tapping her lips, "Could it be... you got into trouble?"

Seeing Horikita Suzune remain silent, she suddenly pressed her palms together, revealing a sly smile: "Could it be—is it relationship advice?"

Horikita Suzune's brow twitched imperceptibly.

038 Physiological needs are indeed what he understood them to be

Hoshinomiya Chie.

On the surface, she was a vibrant and approachable young teacher who always loved to mingle with her students.

However, a piece of confusing information Shimizu Akira had obtained on the first day of school couldn't help but surface in his mind:

[Intel 3: If you need to satisfy physiological needs, knock on Hoshinomiya Chie's door three times at exactly 2:00 AM.]

(Wait! That mysterious, "open" person from the rumors is actually this teacher right in front of me?! And she's a teacher, of all things?)

(Could it be... that I misunderstood? "Physiological needs" might not refer to that kind of thing...)

The concept of "physiological needs" was far broader than one might imagine—beyond sex, it also included basic life-sustaining requirements like air, water, food, and sleep.

However, Hoshinomiya Chie keenly sensed that her conversation with Horikita Suzune was stalling, and her gaze naturally shifted to the perpetually silent Shimizu Akira.

"Oh my, oh my! Isn't this student Shimizu?!" She suddenly leaned in close. "You're even more handsome in person than in your photo!"

Shimizu Akira asked politely, "Does Hoshinomiya-sensei know me?"

"Of course~" She held up a finger and wagged it playfully. "The girls have a secret 'First-Year Hottie Ranking,' and student Shimizu is sitting right at the top!"

"Girls do things like that?..." Shimizu Akira instinctively looked at Horikita Suzune beside him, who immediately cut in with a cold voice:

"Don't look at me. I didn't vote." Horikita's tone remained icy, but there was no surprise on her face; clearly, she was already well aware of the list's existence.

"Student Shimizu~" Hoshinomiya Chie suddenly leaned in even closer, her eyes sparkling with gossipy intrigue. "A handsome guy like you must already have a girlfriend, right? You must have received quite a few confessions from girls?"

Shimizu Akira shifted slightly to the side, maintaining his distance without appearing obvious. "I don't have a girlfriend yet."

"Eh~" Hoshinomiya drew out the sound meaningfully, tapping her chin with a finger. "You only denied the 'girlfriend' part... which means you have indeed been confessed to, haven't you?"

"...I have." Shimizu Akira paused for a moment before adding, "But I turned them down."

The scene of Karuizawa Kei's confession flashed through his mind; that should count as a confession, he supposed.

"Oh my, oh my~" Hoshinomiya Chie suddenly drew out her tone, her teasing gaze shifting between the two of them. "Could it be that student Shimizu is..."

"...We aren't in that kind of relationship." Horikita Suzune interrupted as a reflex, only to realize her loss of composure the moment the words left her lips.

"--into my Ichinose?" Hoshinomiya finished the sentence with a smile, though her eyes remained fixed on Horikita's face. "This student, I was talking about our class representative, Ichinose. After all, student Shimizu spoke to her last week. No need to be so hasty."