Invitation

"To avoid notice, for the sake of safety." Hoshino Kanade's tone was like he was stating a known fact. "Class D is a gathering place for 'defective products.' Here, being too outstanding might lead to being used or isolated, while being too incompetent might lead to expulsion. You chose what seems to be the safest middle path, avoiding conflict and avoiding the spotlight. A very clever strategy, in an ordinary environment."

He paused, picked up the pencil on the table that had once unsettled her, and tapped it lightly against the desk. "But in this school, the 'safety' of Class D is an illusion. Your middle-of-the-road status means your information is middle-of-the-road, and your power is middle-of-the-road. When the real storm arrives, it will be the easiest thing to tear apart."

Matsushita Chiaki felt her throat tighten. A retort sat on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't voice it, because every word he spoke was the truth.

The restraint shown by Karuizawa's group after their class points hit zero, along with her own inner panic and shame at this moment, confirmed it.

Under his powerful aura and cold analysis, her previous chaotic, slightly romanticized daydreams seemed incredibly small and superfluous, easily brushed away like dust.

She bit her lower lip slightly. This unconscious little gesture revealed a rare, pitiable sense of vulnerability, but it was immediately replaced by a look of focused contemplation.

"What do you want to do?" She forced herself to look up, meeting his bottomless eyes with a final shred of defense and a hint of shame—one she hadn't even realized herself—at having her thoughts laid bare. "Use this to threaten me?" Her gaze sharpened, the edge beneath her elegance fully exposed.

Hoshino Kanade pulled at the corner of his mouth slightly. It wasn't a smile, but rather an expression of approval for her blunt struggle.

"Threaten? No, it's an invitation, a transaction. Your abilities are being wasted on maintaining this mediocre facade; it's a pity."

His tone carried an indescribable nuance, like a hunter who had finally locked onto a falcon worth the time to tame, filled with an unquestionable sense of control.

Hoshino Kanade's gaze swept over her chest, which rose and fell slightly from tension, and her beautifully lined shoulders and neck, as if admiring a trophy of both intelligence and beauty that was about to be his.

Matsushita Chiaki was stunned. Abilities? What was he referring to? Did he mean her talent for camouflage and observation? Or... She subconsciously avoided the direction of the pencil, her long, thick eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath her eyes, masking her rapidly thinking gaze.

"Your observation skills," Hoshino Kanade seemed to read her confusion, his gaze locking onto her sharply. "Through the gaps in your hair, you can capture the changes in micro-expressions and micro-movements in a noisy environment. Your analytical skills—from the 'out-of-syllabus' nature of small classroom actions, you can immediately associate them with other aspects. Most importantly, your ability to camouflage—whether it's the camouflage of your test scores or the social camouflage in the delicate balance between Karuizawa and Hirata—is done quite naturally."

Hoshino Kanade pointed them out one by one, his tone carrying a condescending scrutiny. "These are abilities that most people in Class D do not possess. You have simply used them for 'self-preservation.'" His recognition of these traits was like a key, instantly unlocking a long-suppressed desire within Matsushita Chiaki—the desire to be truly "seen."

Matsushita Chiaki's heart skipped a beat.

Being dismantled and evaluated so clearly by him made her back feel cold, but the subtle affirmation in Hoshino Kanade's words stirred a strange... excitement deep within her? It was as if the side of her she had always hidden, a side not valued or even known to herself, had finally been found to have worth by someone powerful enough.

This feeling of being recognized by a "stronger" person subtly diluted some of her previous embarrassment.

A barely perceptible glimmer, mixed with pride and submission, flashed in her azure eyes, adding a unique, "lit-up" radiance to her entire being.

"So?" She heard her own voice, which seemed to have stabilized slightly, carrying a negotiation-like calmness. The elegant and composed charm that belonged to her re-condensed under the pressure.

Hoshino Kanade leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower, carrying an irrefutable masculine intensity: "Be my eyes, and become my hands."

He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping over Matsushita Chiaki's subconsciously pressed-together knees and tightly clenched knuckles, as if silently emphasizing the connection between this body language and his words. "I don't need you to abandon your safety zone. I just need you to see more and hear more within that zone. Use your analytical and camouflage abilities to take the undercurrents of Class D—conflicts between classmates, the movements of potential factions, hidden ambitions and abilities, and even... the subtle attitudes of the teachers—and filter, organize, and pass them into my hands."

His tone was plain, without the slightest hint of exaggerated command, yet it was full of the confidence of someone in total control.

"Becoming my eyes means letting you 'see' for me; becoming my hands means letting you 'reach' into those corners I cannot touch directly, and sense those subtle tremors."

"In return," Hoshino Kanade paused, his gaze sharply capturing every flicker of Matsushita Chiaki's expression, as if evaluating the value of a precision tool, "I will not expose your facade. You can continue to safely be your 'middle-of-the-road' student. At the same time, at critical moments, when I judge it to be of value, I will be the support you can grasp in the quagmire of Class D." He emphasized, with a powerful sense of providing protection. "I will not interfere with your daily choices, nor will I ask you to do anything that endangers your core safety. I only need information. Clearer information, to ensure... that certain situations do not spiral out of control." His eyes scanned the direction of the reading room entrance imperceptibly, and the gaze carried far more than the typical high schooler's worries about exams or romance.

Matsushita Chiaki's heart was in turmoil.

His conditions sounded... surprisingly reasonable? He wasn't asking her to be a mole or betray anyone; he was simply utilizing what she was already good at in exchange for greater security and... a certain kind of recognition from a strong person?

His evaluation of her being "valuable" was like a seed falling into soil that had long been suppressed and starved for acknowledgment.

Moreover, the metaphor of "eyes" and "hands" not only gave her a clear value as an information gatherer but also implied a closer, more proactive role as an executor—she was no longer just a passive observer, but an extension and tentacle of his will in the shadows.

This carried more weight and was more challenging than being a mere "informant."

From his perspective, this calm, efficient, and mutually beneficial way of trading was indeed much more... reassuring than those sticky emotions or crude threats. At the very least, the goals were clear and the boundaries were distinct.

Matsushita Chiaki's fingertips unconsciously rubbed the fabric of her uniform skirt, showing her inner weighing of the situation. That look of focused contemplation gave her an attraction filled with intelligence.

But she still had doubts.

"How can I be sure of your ability? Are you yourself... really a student of Class D?"

She hesitated, but still asked this crucial question. Her voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear—a challenge that remained calm even under immense pressure.

The anomalies he and Kiyona had shown in class had been lingering in her mind.

How could someone with such an aura and insight be in Class D?

A flash of understanding crossed Hoshino Kanade's eyes. He did not answer, but instead took something out of his pocket.

"To avoid notice, for the sake of safety." Hoshino Kanade's tone was like he was stating a known fact. "Class D is a gathering place for 'defective products.' Here, being too outstanding might lead to being used or isolated, while being too incompetent might lead to expulsion. You chose what seems to be the safest middle path, avoiding conflict and avoiding the spotlight. A very clever strategy, in an ordinary environment."

He paused, picked up the pencil on the table that had once unsettled her, and tapped it lightly against the desk. "But in this school, the 'safety' of Class D is an illusion. Your middle-of-the-road status means your information is middle-of-the-road, and your power is middle-of-the-road. When the real storm arrives, it will be the easiest thing to tear apart."

Matsushita Chiaki felt her throat tighten. A retort sat on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't voice it, because every word he spoke was the truth.

The restraint shown by Karuizawa's group after their class points hit zero, along with her own inner panic and shame at this moment, confirmed it.

Under his powerful aura and cold analysis, her previous chaotic, slightly romanticized daydreams seemed incredibly small and superfluous, easily brushed away like dust.

She bit her lower lip slightly. This unconscious little gesture revealed a rare, pitiable sense of vulnerability, but it was immediately replaced by a look of focused contemplation.

"What do you want to do?" She forced herself to look up, meeting his bottomless eyes with a final shred of defense and a hint of shame—one she hadn't even realized herself—at having her thoughts laid bare. "Use this to threaten me?" Her gaze sharpened, the edge beneath her elegance fully exposed.

Hoshino Kanade pulled at the corner of his mouth slightly. It wasn't a smile, but rather an expression of approval for her blunt struggle.

"Threaten? No, it's an invitation, a transaction. Your abilities are being wasted on maintaining this mediocre facade; it's a pity."

His tone carried an indescribable nuance, like a hunter who had finally locked onto a falcon worth the time to tame, filled with an unquestionable sense of control.

Hoshino Kanade's gaze swept over her chest, which rose and fell slightly from tension, and her beautifully lined shoulders and neck, as if admiring a trophy of both intelligence and beauty that was about to be his.

Matsushita Chiaki was stunned. Abilities? What was he referring to? Did he mean her talent for camouflage and observation? Or... She subconsciously avoided the direction of the pencil, her long, thick eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath her eyes, masking her rapidly thinking gaze.

"Your observation skills," Hoshino Kanade seemed to read her confusion, his gaze locking onto her sharply. "Through the gaps in your hair, you can capture the changes in micro-expressions and micro-movements in a noisy environment. Your analytical skills—from the 'out-of-syllabus' nature of small classroom actions, you can immediately associate them with other aspects. Most importantly, your ability to camouflage—whether it's the camouflage of your test scores or the social camouflage in the delicate balance between Karuizawa and Hirata—is done quite naturally."

Hoshino Kanade pointed it out with a single remark, his tone carrying a condescending scrutiny, "These are abilities that most people in Class D lack. You've simply used them for 'self-preservation'." His acknowledgment of these traits in his words was like a key, instantly unlocking a long-suppressed desire deep within Matsushita Chiaki—the desire to be truly "seen."

Matsushita Chiaki's heart skipped a beat.

Being dissected and evaluated so clearly by him left her feeling exposed, sending a chill down her spine, yet the subtle affirmation in Hoshino Kanade's words stirred a strange... excitement deep within her. It was as if another side of her—one she had always hidden, ignored, or even failed to recognize herself—had finally been deemed valuable by someone sufficiently powerful.

This feeling of being recognized by a "stronger" individual subtly diluted some of her previous embarrassment.

A barely perceptible glimmer, a mixture of pride and submission, flashed across her azure eyes, adding a unique, "illuminated" radiance to her entire being.

"So?" She heard her own voice sound slightly more stable, carrying a negotiation-like composure, as the elegant and collected charm that belonged to her began to coalesce once more under the pressure.

Hoshino Kanade leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower, carrying an indisputable masculine intensity: "Be my eyes, and become my hands."

He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping over Matsushita Chiaki's instinctively pressed-together knees and tightly clenched knuckles, as if silently emphasizing the connection between this body language and his words, "I don't need you to abandon your safety zone; I only need you to see more and hear more within that zone. Use your analytical and camouflage abilities to filter, organize, and deliver the undercurrents of Class D to me—conflicts between students, the movements of potential factions, hidden ambitions and abilities, and even... the subtle attitudes of the teachers."

His tone was plain, devoid of any exaggerated sense of command, yet it was filled with the confidence of someone in total control.

"Becoming my eyes means letting you 'see' for me; becoming my hands means letting you 'reach' into those corners I cannot touch directly, to perceive those subtle tremors."

"In return," Hoshino Kanade paused, his sharp gaze capturing every flicker of expression on Matsushita Chiaki's face, as if evaluating the worth of a precision tool, "I will not expose your disguise, and you can continue to safely be your 'above-average' student. At the same time, at critical moments, when I judge it to be of value, I will be the support you can grasp in the quagmire that is Class D." He emphasized this with a sense of strength that offered protection, "I will not interfere with your daily choices, nor will I ask you to do anything that endangers your core safety. I only need information. Clearer information, to ensure... that certain situations do not spiral out of control." His eyes swept imperceptibly toward the entrance of the reading room, and the gaze carried far more than the typical high schooler's worries about exams or romance.

Matsushita Chiaki's heart was in turmoil.

His terms sounded... surprisingly reasonable? He wasn't asking her to be a mole or betray anyone; he was simply utilizing what she was already good at in exchange for greater security and... a certain kind of recognition from a strong person?

His evaluation of her being "valuable" was like a seed falling into soil that had long been suppressed and starved for acknowledgment.

Moreover, the metaphor of "eyes" and "hands" not only granted her clear value as an information gatherer but also implied a closer, more proactive role as an executor—she was no longer merely a passive observer, but an extension and tentacle of his will in the shadows.

This carried more weight and presented more of a challenge than being a simple "informant."

From his perspective, this calm, efficient, and mutually beneficial way of trading was indeed... far more reassuring than those sticky emotions or crude threats? At the very least, the goals were clear and the boundaries were defined.

Matsushita Chiaki's fingertips unconsciously rubbed the fabric of her uniform skirt, revealing her internal weighing of the situation. That look of focused contemplation gave her an attraction filled with wisdom.

But she still had doubts.

"How can I be sure of your capabilities? Are you yourself... really a student of Class D?"

She hesitated for a moment before asking this crucial question. Her voice was not loud, yet it was exceptionally clear—a challenge that remained calm even under immense pressure.

The anomalies he and Kiyona had displayed in class had been lingering in her mind the entire time.

How could someone possessing such an aura and insight be in Class D?

A flicker of understanding flashed in Hoshino Kanade's eyes. He did not answer, but instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out.