No Obligation to Inform

Just as Sakayanagi Arisu once said—a remark he now used as an excuse—answers obtained too easily are often the least valuable.

When it comes to human relationships, if one relies on "cheating" to see through everything from the start, the subsequent development will likely lose much of the unexpected joy and authentic tactile sensation.

To put it bluntly, the process of solving a problem is an experience in itself, even if he mostly just wants to hand in a blank paper.

(It's similar to how, when you know how to solve a problem, you only want to write down the answer and not the steps, but if you only know the answer without the process, you feel a strange, indescribable sensation...)

Days passed like sand slipping through fingers, with Linmu Fujimiya half-absent and Class D half-sleepwalking.

The cherry blossoms outside the window had long since fallen, replaced by lush, vibrant new greenery.

In the blink of an eye, it was the first day of May, the day designated by the school for the distribution of personal points.

On this day, Linmu made a rare, punctual appearance in the Class D classroom and sat down at his desk.

He had a freshly opened grape-flavored lollipop in his mouth, the sweet and sour taste spreading across his tongue as he swept his gaze calmly across the room.

Compared to the usual rowdiness, there was a subtle, imperceptible atmosphere in the classroom today, a mix of anticipation and the usual lethargy.

Most students were still chatting or playing on their phones, but one could vaguely sense that many had diverted a portion of their attention to wait for the vibration notification on their wrist terminals.

They didn't know yet that the "ding" they were looking forward to would not sound today.

Linmu leaned back comfortably, like a spectator who had bought a VIP seat, waiting for the show to begin.

Their homeroom teacher, Chabashira Sae, stepped into the classroom as punctually as ever.

But unlike other days, she didn't start the lecture immediately. Instead, she walked straight to the whiteboard, picked up a black marker, and began to write with her back to the students.

Her movements were steady, and the expression on her face was the usual indifference, forming a strange contrast with the gradually quieting noise in the classroom.

It wasn't until she had written a few clear lines on the board that she put down the marker, turned around to face the still somewhat inattentive students, and began to clap slowly, one beat at a time.

"Clap. Clap. Clap."

The crisp, monotonous applause sounded exceptionally abrupt, even jarring, in the suddenly silent classroom.

Every student in Class D, including those still secretly playing on their phones, was drawn by this abnormal behavior. They all looked up in unison, their faces filled with confusion and bewilderment.

Clearly, last month, no matter how lazy or noisy they were, Chabashira-sensei had almost turned a blind eye, never once reprimanding or lecturing them.

Was the sun rising from the west today?

Or was she planning to make an example of someone to enforce discipline?

For a moment, those who had been daydreaming, whispering, or playing on their phones were like people who had been hit with a pause button.

They quickly reined in their actions, looking at the podium with unease, guessing what kind of medicine the teacher was hiding in her gourd.

Chabashira Sae's gaze swept slowly across every confused face in the room.

There seemed to be no warmth in her eyes, no disappointment, not even the usual sternness—only a kind of near-numb calmness, and beneath that calmness, an undisguised mockery.

She raised her hand and tapped her knuckles against the whiteboard behind her, making a "thud-thud" sound, forcibly dragging everyone's attention to the numbers that would determine their fate:

First-Year Class Point Rankings

Class A: 940 CP

Class B: 750 CP

Class C: 490 CP

Class D: 0 CP

The cold numbers on the whiteboard hit the heart of every Class D student like a heavy, unadorned hammer, leaving them dizzy and breathless.

"Look."

Chabashira Sae's voice was flat and waveless, yet it reached every corner of the quiet classroom, carrying a bone-scraping, icy mockery.

"You in Class D have perfectly proven your existence at the bottom."

"The worst... collection of inferior goods in the entire grade."

The words "inferior goods" were like poison-tipped needles, piercing deep into the eardrums of many.

The moment her voice fell, the classroom sank into a long silence, as if the very air had frozen.

The next second, a massive uproar erupted like a bursting dam!

"Zero points?! How is that possible!"

"Our class got zero? Are you kidding me!"

"...Then what about this month's points..."

"...I even ordered a new game yesterday..."

Shock, disappointment, confusion, disbelief... all sorts of emotions intertwined and churned on the faces of the Class D students.

Some faces turned pale, some widened their eyes as if to confirm they hadn't misread, some cursed under their breath, and many more fell into a daze, not knowing what to do.

The massive gap left them unable to accept reality for a moment.

Right in the midst of this chaos and low pressure, a hand was raised calmly from the back of the classroom.

It was Linmu Fujimiya.

He still wore that lazy, half-asleep expression, the plastic stick of a grape-flavored lollipop swaying gently against his lips as he spoke.

He stood up, his posture straight and tall, meeting the cold gaze of Chabashira Sae with calm eyes. His tone was flat, yet carried a clear, unquestionable sense of inquiry:

"Chabashira-sensei," his voice wasn't loud, yet it eerily pierced through the noise in the classroom.

"I personally feel that, as our homeroom teacher, you must have been well aware of the school's rules linking class points to private points from the very beginning.

Yet you never explained this to anyone in Class D, and even intentionally indulged our previous slackness.

In my view, this is at least... a dereliction of duty to some extent, isn't it?"

Lin Mu's words were like an ice cube dropped into boiling oil, instantly triggering an even more violent reaction!

The students of Class D, who had just been immersed in shock and disappointment, seemed to have suddenly found an outlet for their emotions and someone to hold accountable.

They turned their gazes toward Chabashira Sae on the podium, one after another, shouting in a cacophony of voices:

"That's right! Why didn't you tell us sooner, sensei!"

"If we had known about these class points, we wouldn't have been so careless!"

"This is clearly the teacher's responsibility! You deliberately didn't make it clear!"

"Exactly! It's so unfair!"

Facing the sudden surge of accusations and questioning from below, Chabashira Sae's expression didn't change in the slightest; she didn't even twitch an eyebrow.

She simply raised her hand again, making a concise and forceful downward gesture, and her icy gaze swept across the room, causing the clamor to die down involuntarily.

"I am under no obligation to inform you of every single detail regarding the school's rules."

(Chabashira is like someone who has given up on their dreams; slacking off has become her daily routine... In reality, she could have reminded Class D, but she chose to slack off instead.)

Her voice remained steady, yet it carried a condescending indifference.

Activity Period: May 1st to May 5th