Lin Mu's seat was in the "chosen spot" right in the middle of the back row.
He had a lollipop in his mouth—different flavor every day—and casually propped his chin on one hand. His eyes were half-lidded as his lazy gaze swept across the classroom.
Like an observer standing apart from it all, he was enjoying a moving ukiyo-e titled Cultivating the Useless.
(Leisurely education, so leisurely. The daily life of a vocational school.)
He had long since reached the point where the commotion around him barely registered. His mind was perfectly calm; he even felt a little like laughing.
What he clearly saw was that his classmates were still indulging in the false prosperity and comfortable illusion brought by the hundred thousand points they had received upon enrollment.
They probably thought this elite high school was nothing special: lax management, generous benefits—it was practically paradise.
They had never considered that the academy's "survival of the fittest" rules were far more complicated and cruel than they appeared, and they certainly wouldn't expect what was coming.
On the first day of May, when the notification that their Private Points had been issued failed to sound as scheduled, they would be struck by a bolt from the blue—one powerful enough to shatter every illusion.
Class D's Class Points would be a glaring "0," which meant the academy wouldn't give them a single Private Point.
At that point, they would have to rely on the free salad meals and basic supplies available on campus just to scrape by.
The snacks, drinks, and entertainment they had bought with their points would all become unattainable luxuries. Their good days would slowly slip away.
Someone might ask: since Lin Mu knew everything, why didn't he warn his classmates? Even just hint at it?
The answer was simple: he was just an ordinary member of Class D's forty-odd students, a slacker who often skipped class and seemed lazy and carefree, with nothing going for him except his looks.
He had neither the leisure nor the obligation to play "savior" or "prophet." He also knew that in this environment, "saying more wouldn't help."
Even if he laid out the academy's hidden rules, the secret of Class Points, and the crises they might face in the future, how many people would believe him?
In the eyes of classmates immersed in pleasure and idleness, Linmu Fujimiya would probably just seem like a weirdo putting on airs, fearmongering, or trying to drag others down because he couldn't be bothered to improve himself.
Trust needed to be built on a foundation, and in Class D, aside from his reputation as the "Divination Immortal" among some students from other classes,
he had no credentials that would convince anyone in his own class, where they might dismiss him as a "scam artist."
Besides, Class D was already a "mixed bag."
Some, like Kanji Ike and Haruki Yamauchi, were muddling through life, interested only in having fun and completely lacking in ambition.
Others, like Ken Sudō, were volatile "ticking time bombs" who could lose Class Points at any moment for fighting or other misconduct.
And then there was Koenji Rokusuke, an eccentric maverick who refused to be bound by any rules.
Even with students like Hirata Yosuke, who tried to bring everyone together; Kei Karuizawa, who held influence among the girls; and Suzune Horikita, who had considerable abilities of her own,
their efforts were often no more than a drop in the bucket against the wider collapse, unable to turn the tide.
In that case, why waste his breath and invite trouble?
Lin Mu's choice was to watch quietly and let things take their course.
He had no need to stop anyone from "digging their own grave," and he couldn't be bothered to waste his precious energy and emotions on life choices made by people who probably wouldn't listen anyway.
As the old saying went, people learned from experience after one lesson, but usually couldn't learn from other people's advice.
Some lessons had to be experienced firsthand, and hurt deeply, before they could be remembered.
(After blowing through their allowance at the start of the month, maybe—just maybe—they wouldn't act like this after scraping by in a desperate fight for survival at the end of it.)
Throughout April, the only thing that made Lin Mu's time in the classroom slightly less monotonous—or, perhaps, required him to pay the tiniest bit of attention—was Kikyo Kushida.
She had met him on the very first day of school. Cheerful and warm, she seemed as if she were always fully charged, and she appeared to feel a special closeness to him.
She had obviously heard about Lin Mu's nickname, the "Divination Immortal." She might not fully believe it, but she was naturally curious.
Whenever Lin Mu happened to show up in class, she would casually come over and sit in the empty seat beside him, wearing her signature sweet smile.
She would chatter about the latest amusing things happening in class or some club's fun activities. Sometimes she would share cookies she had baked herself or candy she had bought.
Kikyo Kushida didn't seem to have a complicated reason for approaching him.
She wasn't necessarily set on finding out whether his fortune-telling was real. Although a glimmer of curiosity sometimes flashed in her eyes, she didn't seem intent on pursuing her doubts.
It was more as if she simply felt especially relaxed and comfortable when she was with Lin Mu.
That "comfort" was different from the lively attention and adulation she received surrounded by classmates, which required her to maintain a perfect smile and respond thoughtfully at all times.
It was also different from chatting intimately with her close friends, which required at least some shared interests and emotional rapport.
When she was with Lin Mu, she could talk more or less, about anything under the sun or the most trivial, boring things.
Lin Mu was always the same, a candy in his mouth as he listened lazily, occasionally answering with an "Mm" or "Oh," never interrupting or chiming in for no reason.
And he never probed into her private life or preferences with an ulterior motive, as some boys did.
He was like a quiet tree hollow all her own, a place where she could temporarily take off the perfect mask she wore every moment of the day.
She could share little worries that didn't really matter, even silly ones, without worrying about being judged or having them spread around.
Whenever Kikyo Kushida came over with a smile and started a conversation in her bright, clear voice, Lin Mu couldn't help thinking to himself:
She really has boundless energy... Do people born with such social skills, who make "becoming friends with everyone" their lifelong goal, never overload their nervous systems?
She always seemed so warm, smiling at everyone as if there wasn't a cloud in her heart. But given Lin Mu's understanding of human nature,
and the mind-reading ability he kept suppressed instead of using, it was hard for him to believe that a girl so adept at navigating complicated relationships had no private thoughts, pressures, or even calculations of her own.
Every now and then, he did feel the urge to use his ability and "listen in" on what she was really thinking.
After all, Kikyo Kushida was the first person he had gotten to know at this academy. Though the connection had been initiated by her and kept up by her, in a way, could he call her a "friend"?
But the thought only flashed through his mind before he stamped it out.
He still chose to let things take their course. It wasn't that he had a moral objection to it; he just felt... it wasn't necessary.
(Activity period: May 1 to May 5)
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