During the morning break, Sawahara received a message from the student council president: the Chairman had agreed to meet with him, and they had set the time for after classes at noon.
"Time is rather tight, after all." There was only a day and a half left before the midterm exams. It wouldn't be easy for the school to handle this properly.
At the agreed time, Sawahara arrived at the Chairman's Office.
When he opened the door, he saw a middle-aged man with white hair sitting inside. It was obvious that he was the school's Chairman.
"Good afternoon, Chairman." Sawahara greeted him politely.
"Hmm, you're Sawahara from Class 1-C, right? I heard from that Horikita girl that you wanted to meet me—and that you've caused quite a stir." The Chairman smiled at Sawahara. Despite calling it quite a stir, he showed no trace of anger.
"I'd say you were the one who wanted to meet me, Chairman. And I wouldn't call it a stir. I was merely saying hello." Sawahara spoke calmly.
"Hello? That's hardly a polite way to do it."
"I'd say it was very polite compared with arbitrarily changing someone else's school application." That was the reason Sawahara had given Manabu Horikita for taking such an aggressive approach.
The Chairman had given him such a generous gift, after all. Naturally, Sawahara had to respond in kind.
"Why are you so certain that I was the one who changed your school application?" Chairman Sakayanagi paused briefly before asking.
"First, whoever did it must have an important connection to this school. They're most likely someone on the staff; otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to get me admitted. Second, they must wield considerable influence within the education system. Third, they're at this school, but can easily contact the outside world. They must have a high level of access here."
Sawahara laid out his deductions.
"How many people at this school do you think could meet those conditions?"
"I see." After hearing Sawahara's reasoning, Chairman Sakayanagi couldn't help but marvel. "Your powers of deduction and judgment are remarkable. Even after losing your memories, you're still as impressive as ever.
"I was indeed the one who changed your school application. But I meant no harm. I did it to protect you."
"Your past is connected to one of my teachers. I respect him, but I don't agree with some of his ideals," the Chairman said slowly.
"For various reasons, he's been looking for you. So I used my connections within the education system to change your school application and bring you here. At least at this school, you can grow more freely."
"I see. I'm sorry, but since I don't remember my past, I can't fully trust what you're telling me." That was Sawahara's response to the Chairman's explanation.
When Sawahara was twelve, he was kidnapped by human traffickers. Something went wrong during the rescue, and the shock caused him to lose his memories from before the incident. He was later adopted by one of the police officers who had handled the case.
That was why his records only covered the past three years.
"That's all right." The Chairman shook his head, unfazed by Sawahara's distrust. "But could you tell me what you think of this school?"
"This school is a lot like a game," Sawahara replied.
"A game?"
"That's right. The game is called Monopoly."
Class Points were like property, while Private Points represented liquid assets. The school played the role of the bank, and the various exams were like Chance cards.
"The difference is that, in this school, the winner is ultimately decided by Class Points." It was as though the school was deliberately encouraging students to work for the company and devote themselves to the collective.
Sawahara didn't say the second half aloud. Some things were better kept to oneself.
"That's a novel way of looking at it." The Chairman was surprised by Sawahara's take. It was the first time he'd heard anyone describe the school that way.
They'd spent quite a while discussing things besides the matter at hand. It was time to get down to business.
"By the way, because of you, more than ten students from Class 1-D may be expelled this time." The Chairman's smile faded. He looked at Sawahara with a serious expression. "That goes against the school's principles."
"I wouldn't say it's my fault. I only gave things a little push." Sawahara had no intention of taking responsibility for this. "The existence of past exam questions could lead to this sort of outcome, and I don't think having them benefits the students."
"This is part of the students' development," the Chairman said. "Things like this happen all the time in society. Nepotism, plagiarism, taking shortcuts—society has never been clean."
"Isn't this the time to show them the consequences, then?"
"But the school doesn't want to see so many students expelled," the Chairman said. Ultimately, the problem was the number of students who might be expelled this time—and the fact that they were all from the same class, completely upsetting the balance between classes.
"Then give them another shortcut. But this time, they'll have to pay a much higher price." Sawahara offered his solution.
"You've planned this out rather neatly. Don't you think you're being a little greedy?"
"Didn't you say this was my responsibility?" Sawahara said frankly. "Besides, I don't think more people should know about this."
"So now you're taking responsibility." The Chairman shook his head but didn't argue.
The school had to avoid getting directly involved. Even if it intervened indirectly, it needed to keep things as secret as possible. That left the school with few options.
"Tell that Horikita girl that the first-year exam papers will be kept in the Student Council Room this time," the Chairman told Sawahara.
"Yes, Chairman." Sawahara bowed to the Chairman, then left the Chairman's Office.
"My past?" Sawahara didn't believe the explanation the Chairman had given earlier. He was certain that at least seventy percent of what the Chairman had said was true, but that still meant at least twenty percent was a lie.
The reason was simple: the Chairman was a politician, a member of parliament. That alone was enough for Sawahara to conclude that the Chairman's words had to contain lies.
"I'm lying, too."
Although he'd received some unexpected information, he had still accomplished what he'd set out to do.
"Is it too late to say hello now? Maybe there won't be a better time, though."
Sawahara turned his head and glanced at the Chairman's Office behind him, speaking to himself.
"Hello, Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School."
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