The Chosen Seat and Its Two Guardians

Manabu Horikita's voice continued, steady and persuasive. "These achievements did not come from nowhere.

"They are honors and assets built up bit by bit through the relentless effort, ability, and sweat of every graduate of this school and every student currently enrolled. They are also the foundation on which our school stands."

"I hope every new student here can understand the weight of this honor, and has the determination and ability to carry it on—and even help it flourish."

He paused again. Behind his glasses, his gaze seemed to sharpen. Slowly, he spoke the words engraved in the very cornerstone of the school's philosophy:

"Because what this school upholds is absolute—"

"Meritocracy."

His words were like a stone tossed into a calm lake, stirring a faint, uncertain commotion among the new students.

Some looked thoughtful, some appeared excited, and others seemed a little bewildered.

Lin Mu merely raised an eyebrow. Meritocracy? It sounded like a strict, ruthless system of competition.

Still, whatever this "ability" referred to—academics, physical fitness, social skills, or something else—it didn't seem like a real challenge to him.

After all, his own measure of "ability" was on an entirely different level from that of ordinary people.

Thinking of this, he relaxed even more. He even began idly pushing his lollipop to his left cheek with the tip of his tongue, making it bulge slightly.

(That's one of the best things about eating lollipops. The other is that you can bite the stick when you need to.)

After that came speeches from several school officials in turn. They talked about school rules, well wishes, hopes for the future, and so on—long-winded and dull.

Lin Mu's eyelids gradually drooped as he listened. He had to fight to stay awake.

Kikyo Kushida, sitting beside him, listened very attentively. At some point, she had even taken out a cute, palm-sized notebook and begun jotting down key points every so often. Her profile looked focused and well-behaved.

The other Class D students were in a more familiar state: yawns were becoming noticeably more frequent, their posture was growing more relaxed, and their whispered conversations were getting a little louder.

By contrast, the students in Classes A, B, and C mostly maintained relatively proper posture and attention, though a few were bound to get distracted. The "distinctive character" of Class D seemed all the more obvious next to them.

At long last, the speeches ended. The host announced the official conclusion of the opening ceremony, and the new students began filing out in class order to head to their homerooms.

The crowd surged forward like water released from a floodgate.

Kikyo Kushida promptly put away her notebook, her bright smile returning. Her eyes swept nimbly over those around her, and soon settled on several girls nearby who seemed to be in Class D as well.

She hurried over and naturally joined their conversation, introducing herself with a sweet smile. "Hi! I'm Kikyo Kushida, and I'm in Class D too. I was standing right behind you just now! I look forward to getting along with you!"

Thanks to her exceptional friendliness and just the right amount of enthusiasm, it didn't take long for her to be chatting animatedly with the girls.

Laughter rang out as they exchanged contact information. She no longer looked like she was constantly staying by Lin Mu's side, as if relying on him to show her the way.

Lin Mu didn't mind at all. If anything, he felt relieved.

He hoped Kushida would spread her social energy among more people. That way, he could blend into the background and slack off more easily.

As far as he was concerned, no matter which class he was in, whether he graduated smoothly or earned the so-called "school points," his superpowers would let him live just fine. He had no need to rely on this school's prestige or resources.

Aside from that amended acceptance letter, he had chosen this place simply because it was a closed campus, had a good reputation, and seemed like somewhere he could "stay in" peacefully without being bothered too much.

Making friends? Maintaining relationships? Neither was necessary. His experiences at the orphanage had taught him long ago that with his Mind Reading, it was easy to please others and quickly establish superficial friendships.

But the easier a relationship was to obtain, the more fragile and shallow it often was.

Besides, if he could "hear" what people truly thought of him at every moment, whether good or bad, then the social game of wearing a mask seemed all the more ridiculous and exhausting.

Rather than deal with that, he would keep his distance from the start and minimize the effort he spent socializing.

A peaceful life on his own was the true meaning of slacking off.

As the crowd slowly made its way to the first-year Class D classroom, Lin Mu deliberately slowed down and lagged behind, avoiding the noisy clusters of students.

By the time he reached the Class D classroom on the second floor of the academic building, about two-thirds of the students were already there, and the room buzzed with conversation.

The classroom was spacious and bright, furnished with brand-new, light-colored wooden desks and chairs.

Lin Mu calmly surveyed the room and headed straight for the back.

He chose an empty seat in the middle column toward the back, neither by the window—where direct sunlight and people outside might distract him—nor by the door, where frequent traffic and hallway noise would be an issue. He pulled out the chair and sat down.

(It really was the perfect seat. By the door, it's noisy and the teacher can spot you easily. By the window, when the sun gets strong, you can cosplay as Tiga.)

As far as he was concerned, it was the "golden spot for slacking off": quiet, with a good view of the class, but unlikely to draw attention.

As soon as he'd settled in and stuffed his schoolbag into the desk, he keenly sensed two very different gazes from either side.

He turned to his right first.

His neighbor was a girl with smooth, pink hair that curled slightly inward at the ends.

Her skin was so fair it was almost translucent, and her delicate, petite features made her look like a doll.

At that moment, she had her head slightly lowered, her hands resting uneasily on her knees, held close together.

When she noticed Lin Mu turning to look at her, she jolted like a startled little animal. Her fair cheeks rapidly flushed red before his eyes, and even her ears and neck turned pink.

She hastily looked away, twisting her fingers together unconsciously. Her whole body radiated an intense, bashful desire to disappear into the floor.

She was the extremely shy, introverted, and timid type.

Lin Mu could almost imagine the frantic thoughts racing through her mind: "What do I do? He's looking at me!" "This is so awkward!" "Don't look at me, don't look at me!"

(Quick quiz: is he talking about you?)

Lin Mu's expression didn't change, though he found it a little amusing.

A girl that shy would probably have a hard time in an environment that emphasized competition.

Then he turned to his left.

The girl on his left had neat, shoulder-length black hair, each strand perfectly straight.

She sat with impeccable posture, her back straight. Her features were cool, her lips pressed together, and an aloof aura surrounded her, as if she were lowering the temperature around her.

When she noticed Lin Mu looking at her, she immediately looked back.

Unlike the girl on his right, who had shyly avoided his gaze, this girl's eyes were sharp and plainly scrutinizing. After holding her gaze on Lin Mu's face for more than a second, her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Then she coldly looked away. Her expression clearly said, "Rude," "shameless," and "don't bother me," as if even glancing at her once more would be some kind of offense.

(She's got the same kind of intimidating aura as Yanagi Mushime. The author hasn't played the game; he just saw her in videos.)

Lin Mu: "..."

He more or less understood.

His face, combined with the fact that he'd looked in her direction first—even if it was only out of politeness, as he surveyed the room—had probably made this cool, aloof girl think he was deliberately trying to hit on her or had some ulterior motive.

After all, he'd run into similar misunderstandings plenty of times growing up. People always seemed to think that if a handsome boy looked at a girl for more than a moment, he must have a hidden agenda.

Someone else might have rushed to explain or felt awkward.

Lin Mu merely raised an eyebrow, unconcerned. He even found it a little funny.

Explaining himself would be a hassle, and there was no telling whether she'd believe him. He might only make things worse.

Why go out of his way to win over someone who was cold to him, wasting his breath and energy?

One of his principles for slacking off was not to invite trouble. But if a misunderstanding brought trouble his way, and it didn't actually affect him, he couldn't be bothered to waste energy clearing it up.

He shrugged, withdrew his gaze as naturally as could be, and leaned back in his chair again. With the tip of his tongue, he moved the milk-flavored lollipop, now half its original size, to the other side of his mouth.

His cheek bulged slightly.

Then he contentedly closed his eyes and began to rest.

After all, as long as he wasn't embarrassed, it was the other person who'd feel awkward.

The best thing to do for now was sit quietly and wait for the homeroom teacher, who hadn't appeared yet, to explain what they needed to do.

The shy pink-haired girl on his right and the aloof black-haired girl on his left were both just classmates he'd be with for the next three years.

Keeping his distance and minding his own business was his ideal way of getting along with them.

The classroom's noise seemed to fade away. All that remained was the sweetness lingering on his tongue and the deliberately maintained quiet of his own lazy little world.