The Answers on the Day Before the Midterm Exams

She slowed her speech and stopped talking about "making friends," switching instead to books.

She asked Hiyori Shiina what kinds of books she liked to read and whether she'd come across anything interesting lately.

The conversation returned to Hiyori Shiina's comfort zone. She still didn't say much, and her answers were brief.

But whenever they touched on a mystery novel she was interested in, her eyes brightened a little, and she occasionally said a bit more about an author's style or her thoughts on a particular trick.

Kikyo Kushida was a great listener and knew how to guide a conversation. Even if she wasn't especially well-versed in mysteries herself, she could always pick up on what Hiyori Shiina said and keep the conversation from going quiet.

The atmosphere gradually eased, and even grew somewhat friendly.

Lin Mu sat across from them, with the cafeteria's newly introduced eel rice set in front of him. He'd even ordered an extra serving of eel.

The plump, tender eel had been grilled just right, coated in a thick, savory-sweet sauce, and served over distinct grains of rice. Silky chawanmushi and crisp pickles came on the side.

(Eel rice really is delicious, though the sauce is a little too sweet.)

He leisurely picked up his chopsticks and sent a large piece of eel into his mouth. As the sweet aroma of the sauce and the richness of the fish melted across his palate, he narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.

Watching the two girls across from him go from seeming a little awkward to gradually managing a proper conversation, he found himself feeling oddly... relieved to be left out of it.

But this wasn't so bad. He could focus on enjoying his food without having to put any effort into the socializing beside him.

He shrugged and devoted his full attention to the eel rice in front of him, occasionally lifting his miso soup for a sip.

He treated the quiet conversation across from him as background music for his meal and ate without a care.

(Eat, eat, eat.)

After lunch, the three of them parted ways outside the cafeteria.

Hiyori Shiina hugged her books to her chest and softly said, "I'll head back to the library," before turning away, her silver hair stirring gently in the afternoon breeze.

Kikyo Kushida waved to Lin Mu, her determination renewed. "I'm going to think of some more ideas, too, and see how we can keep the study group going! See you later, Lin Mu!"

Lin Mu nodded and watched the two girls head in different directions, then ambled back to his dorm to continue his unshakable midday nap—his usual loafing time.

Life went on as usual. The quiet of the library, the cafeteria's delicious food, the occasional fortune-telling session, and his casual interactions with Hiyori Shiina and Kikyo Kushida made up the main rhythm of his school life.

Then, the day before the midterm exams arrived, and that outward calm was shattered completely. The Class D classroom was overcome by an unprecedented, bizarre atmosphere—a mix of wild excitement, anxiety, and illusory hope.

That day, Class D's classroom was unusually quiet.

Gone were the usual noise, complaints, and requests to borrow money. Everyone's gaze was drawn like a magnet to Kikyo Kushida, who had just returned from outside.

Kushida was holding a stack of papers that wasn't especially thick but was clearly important. Her expression held a mixture of solemnity, nervousness, and a trace of relief.

She hurried to the front of the classroom and, without a word, began handing out the papers to the students nearest her. At the same time, she urged them in a rush, "Everyone, put these away and study them carefully! Memorize them! We have to get good grades this time and earn Class Points! This is our last chance!"

Her voice trembled slightly with excitement.

The moment the students who received the papers glanced down at them, their faces were transformed by incredulous delight!

They were the answers to the upcoming midterm exams!

Clear, complete answers, sorted by subject!

"T-These are real?!"

"Kushida! Thank you so much!"

"We're saved! We're really saved!"

"Quick, pass them over! Let me see!"

The classroom erupted at once, like a pot of oil set off by a splash of cold water!

The students who received the answers were overjoyed. They thanked Kikyo Kushida again and again, showering her with gratitude as if she were a living bodhisattva who had come to rescue them from their suffering.

The papers were passed around quickly, and everyone clutched them like priceless treasures.

They stared fixedly at the words, as though they wanted to carve every punctuation mark into their brains.

Having the answers meant they could pass the midterms!

It meant they wouldn't be expelled! It meant Class D might earn Class Points next month!

It meant the school would finally issue them Private Points again!

At last, they could escape the desperate predicament of getting by on free supplies and borrowing money wherever they could!

The flame of hope was kindled by that thin sheet of paper, blazing so fiercely that it nearly consumed all reason and doubt.

Lin Mu remained in his seat, watching the absurd yet entirely understandable celebration with a cool gaze.

He had a grape-flavored lollipop in his mouth. Its sweet-and-sour taste spread across his tongue, but there wasn't the slightest ripple in his eyes—only a hint of mockery that was difficult to detect.

He couldn't help thinking that the school had merely tossed a seemingly sturdy, but possibly ready-to-snap, straw to a group of people in Class D who were on the verge of drowning.

He understood how this school operated.

If the system really had such an obvious loophole that made the exam answers easy to obtain, and allowed students to "pass" collectively by exploiting it, then the so-called "meritocracy" would be a huge joke.

If that were the case, everyone could just exploit loopholes and abuse bugs. Who would bother studying?

These so-called "answers" seemed more like... a safety net? Or a one-time act of "kindness"?

After all, it wouldn't do the school's reputation or stability any good to have a class that had only just enrolled face widespread expulsion because of a zero score and one final exam.

They'd been given one "chance." If they couldn't seize it, they had no one else to blame.

After handing out most of the answers, Kikyo Kushida came over with a copy in her hands. Her face was still flushed with excitement.

She gently placed the answers on the corner of Lin Mu's desk. Her voice still trembled a little, but it was full of concern.

"Here you go, Lin Mu. Take a look and memorize them. This time... this time, our class really has a chance!"

Lin Mu lowered the hand that had been propping up his chin and picked up the answers, casually flipping through a couple of pages.

The problems were as simple to him as elementary-school arithmetic. He might not be particularly clever, but his supernatural abilities had given him a photographic memory.

One glance was all it took for him to memorize everything. He didn't even feel like looking at them again.

"Yeah, got it."

He replied and casually folded the answer sheet, which everyone else regarded as a lifeline, a few times.

He stuffed it into the innermost corner of his desk drawer, leaving it there to gather dust in the dark alongside a few textbooks he'd never opened and some empty candy wrappers.

In the classroom, some students had already started memorizing the answers against the clock, murmuring to themselves with the devout expressions of worshippers reciting scripture.

Others gathered in groups of three or five to quiz one another and check their answers, their enthusiasm resembling a pre-battle pep rally.

Of course, a few students, like Hirata Yosuke, only stared at the answers with a grave expression and furrowed brows, as if they were thinking about something deeper.

Horikita Suzune, for instance, had only glanced coldly at the answers before putting them away without expression. There was even a hint of disdain in her eyes.

And then there was Kiyotaka Ayanokoji. He sat quietly in his seat as ever, as if he were holding an ordinary flyer rather than a set of exam answers.

Class D's hopes of making it through the midterms rested on these "answers" that had appeared out of nowhere.

Amid the busy, feverish recitation, which still carried a sense of unreality, those hopes were like soap bubbles in the sunlight, reflecting brilliant yet fragile colors.

From the fragments of the future he could "see," this exam probably wouldn't be settled as easily as they hoped.

But so what?

He only needed to make sure he passed without a hitch.

As for everything else, he'd wait and see.