The Survival of the Fittest

The hem of a deep blue uniform brushed past the doorway of Classroom D-301 as Kazama In stepped onto his "battlefield."

The room was more spacious than he had expected. Neatly arranged desks basked in the crisp morning sunlight, their wooden surfaces gleaming warmly. His gaze swept the room like a precision scanner, instantly picking up one crucial detail: twenty-six. Exactly twenty-six single desks.

Just moments earlier, as he had passed along the third-floor corridor of the main building's A wing, he had briefly glanced into several other classrooms with their doors open, as casually as if taking in the scenery. Class A, Class B, Class C... Every one of them had twenty-five desks. Neatly uniform, as if measured with a ruler.

Class D had one more.

The subtle difference was like a stone tossed into a deep pool, stirring the faintest ripple in the still waters of his mind. The school's resource allocation—or, more precisely, its "special treatment" of Class D—had been apparent from the very beginning. That extra desk was like a silent brand, proclaiming an unspoken disparity in their starting points.

His seat was in the second-to-last row of the column by the window. It offered a wide view, allowing him to observe the whole room without drawing too much attention. He walked straight over and sat down. His movements were clean and fluid, making no unnecessary noise. The fabric of his new uniform brushed against the back of the chair with a faint rustle.

A few students were already scattered around the classroom. The air was filled with the awkwardness unique to a new environment, tentative curiosity, and a few whispers of barely contained excitement.

"Hey, have you heard? Apparently, this school..."

"I wonder what our homeroom teacher will be like..."

"Hey, where did you go to middle school?..."

Their conversations bobbed through the relatively spacious room like tiny bubbles. Kazama In gently set his black backpack by his feet, with no intention of joining in. He sat with his back straight, gazing calmly out the window. Outside was a carefully planned greenbelt between the school buildings, dotted with a few early cherry blossoms whose pale pink petals swayed in the breeze. Sunlight streamed through the enormous windows, casting bright patches across the floor and illuminating every speck of dust in the air.

The chatter was close by, yet seemed to come from beyond an invisible barrier.

He turned his head slightly, quietly surveying the classroom. A few boys had gathered together, talking loudly. One of them, a red-haired, muscular boy with a noticeably rebellious look—Ken Sudō—was gesturing as he held forth. Another, a tall and handsome boy with a gentle smile—Hirata Yosuke—seemed to be trying to ease the tension. A group of girls stood together, one of them a short-haired girl with light brown hair and an exceptionally friendly smile—Kushida Kikyo—chatting animatedly with the others. When her gaze happened to pass over Kazama In, it lingered for a moment before she gave him an even brighter smile.

Kazama In calmly looked away without responding. He spotted the boy with the tranquil eyes from the bus—Ayanokoji Kiyotaka—sitting alone toward the back, silently gazing out the window as well, like a statue blending into the background. He also noticed a girl with long black hair and an unusually cold expression—Horikita Suzune—sitting alone in the front row. Her back was ramrod straight, and she gave off an air that warned others to keep their distance, as if the commotion around her had nothing to do with her.

The different faces of Class D had begun to emerge in his brief observation: enthusiastic, aloof, trying to fit in, completely out of place... Like a complicated stew just beginning to simmer.

An indescribable weariness crept over him, like a thin vine winding around his mind. It wasn't physical fatigue, but the exhaustion that came from being tense for too long, deep down. The mild sunlight outside carried a soporific warmth. Kazama In turned his gaze away, rested his forehead lightly on his folded arms, and closed his eyes.

His mind didn't fully sink into darkness. The instinct of a killer, etched into his bones, kept his hearing on high alert even when he appeared to be relaxing. Footsteps approached, each with a different rhythm and weight—brisk, dragging, hesitant, confident... The door opened and closed repeatedly, each time bringing a brief stir of air and a new source of sound. Whispers, the creak of desks and chairs shifting, the dull thud of backpacks hitting the floor... He unconsciously received, sorted, and filed away these faint noises like background tracks.

He was like a beast lying in wait beneath the sun. He seemed relaxed, but his senses reached across the entire room.

Time flowed silently through the river of his awareness.

He didn't know how long had passed when the last hurried footsteps entered the classroom, followed by the soft click of the door closing carefully and a faint, relieved exhale. Kazama In's eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly.

The background noise seemed to reach a turning point, then settle. A subtle feeling that "everyone was here" spread through the classroom like an invisible tide.

At that moment, Kazama In lifted his head.

The movement wasn't abrupt. It was as smooth and natural as waking from a nap. There was no trace of grogginess in his eyes; they were as clear as if he had never closed them. His deep black pupils looked especially calm and keen in the light from the window. He sat upright and calmly surveyed the classroom.

All twenty-six desks were occupied. Every face carried the freshness of arriving somewhere new and a hint of barely perceptible nervousness. With the whole class assembled, the traits he had noticed earlier stood out even more clearly.

Kushida Kikyo was cheerfully greeting the classmates around her, working hard to weave a web of connections. Ken Sudō had his arms crossed and an impatient look on his face. Hirata Yosuke was still smiling gently, trying to put those around him at ease. Horikita Suzune remained expressionless, as though she were in another world. Ayanokoji Kiyotaka... Their gazes happened to meet briefly across the room, then both looked away. His eyes were as tranquil as a deep pool.

The air was filled with invisible tension. The rudiments of something called a "class" were struggling to take shape amid the chaos.

Just then, the classroom door opened. A young woman in a dark gray business suit walked in, her expression stern. She strode steadily to the front, holding a folder, and swept her sharp gaze over the class. The classroom's chatter stopped as if someone had pressed pause.

"I'm your homeroom teacher, Chabashira Sae." Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried with unquestionable authority, clearly reaching everyone's ears. "Now, all of you, follow me to the auditorium for the entrance ceremony. Keep quiet and stay orderly."

No unnecessary pleasantries. Her instructions were clear and direct.

Leaving the relatively enclosed classroom, they entered the wide corridor connecting the school buildings to the auditorium. The afternoon sunlight was more generous now, pouring down and flowing over the polished floor tiles. Guided by their teacher, the new students moved forward like a winding stream, their deep blue uniforms forming a shifting sea.

Kazama In walked near the back of the line, his pace unhurried. The air around him was filled with the restless excitement of youth, and hushed conversations buzzed like countless bees.

"Ah-ha! If it isn't our esteemed Arbiter! Fancy meeting you here!"

A deliberately raised voice, delivered in an exaggerated theatrical tone, cut through the surrounding chatter and landed squarely in Kazama In's ear.

Kazama In didn't break stride. He didn't even fully turn his head, merely catching a glimpse of flamboyant pale gold from the corner of his eye.

Koenji Rokusuke.

Like a peacock displaying its feathers, he had somehow worked his way through the crowd and fallen into step beside Kazama In as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He was a little taller than Kazama In, with a slender, long-limbed build. He wore the same deep blue uniform, but somehow made it look like a runway model's outfit. His collar was casually open, revealing a graceful collarbone. His pale golden hair shone almost dazzlingly in the sunlight, and a frivolous smile played across his nearly androgynously beautiful face. His seductive eyes took in Kazama In with amused interest.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Koenji Rokusuke said, shaking his head in an exaggerated tone. "Just look at you, Arbiter Boy. It's hard to imagine you'd lower yourself to wear this 'mediocre' uniform and mingle with us 'mere mortals.'" He deliberately stressed the word "Arbiter," teasing him with a joke whose meaning they both understood.

Kazama In kept his eyes on the path ahead, his expression unchanged. Only his lips moved as he uttered two words: "Rokusuke." His voice was low and calm, giving nothing away.

"Don't be so cold, Inny." Koenji Rindo didn't seem to mind his attitude. Instead, he moved even closer and casually draped an arm over Kazama In's shoulder. Kazama In's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly at the overly familiar gesture, but he didn't immediately shrug him off. "I'm so surprised! The old man cryptically said an 'old acquaintance' would be going to the same school, and I wondered who it might be. I never expected it to be you!" He leaned toward Kazama In's ear and lowered his voice, a mischievous smile on his face. "What's this? Tired of living by the sword? Want to experience the tender romance of a pure-hearted high school student?"

At last, Kazama In turned his head and calmly looked into Koenji Rindo's handsome face, now close enough to touch and full of mockery. His gaze was tranquil, without a ripple, yet Koenji's fingers on his shoulder curled instinctively.

"I just changed my surroundings." Kazama In's voice remained as even as before, revealing no emotion.

"Changed your surroundings?" Koenji raised his eyebrows theatrically. Then, as if something had occurred to him, his smile faded a little, and an inscrutable glint passed through his eyes. "Oh... I see. It's about the Ladder, isn't it?" He uttered the word pointedly, his gaze sweeping over the Class D emblem on Kazama In's chest. The corner of his mouth curled into a meaningful smile. "Looks like our esteemed Arbiter has gotten off to a... well, a 'challenging' start?"

Kazama In didn't answer. He simply turned his gaze back toward the front of the line. The auditorium's enormous, stately outline was already visible.

"But that's all right!" Koenji returned to his usual carefree manner and slapped the hand resting on Kazama In's shoulder. Kazama In's body tensed ever so slightly at the contact, then relaxed. The shadow buried in his heart was still something he couldn't erase.

A friend had been murdered right before his eyes, and at that party, he had been the only one to witness it all. Koenji hadn't been at the party, but as a friend, he couldn't help thinking about what had happened.

A friend, huh? Yeah...

"With you around, school might actually get a little interesting. At the very least," he said with a wink, "I won't have to worry about some clueless idiots disturbing my peace, right, Arbiter?"

That last title carried a weight only the two of them understood. Kazama In remained silent, neither confirming nor denying it. A strange atmosphere flowed between them, a mixture of old familiarity, the distance between their positions, and an unspoken understanding born of knowing what the other was capable of.

The line slowly flowed through the auditorium's grand entrance.

The vast auditorium was bright and solemn. Rows of dark red seats stretched like piano keys beneath the soaring dome. A massive crystal chandelier hung from its center, casting a soft, brilliant glow. The air carried the scent of new carpet and wooden seats, along with the warmth of thousands of people gathered together.

Following the class signs, the new students were led to their seats in order. Class A was in front, followed by Class B, then Class C, while Class D was placed at the back of the auditorium, near the exit.

Kazama In sat in his assigned seat. From this position near the back, his view was even wider. He calmly surveyed the dark mass of heads in front of him, his gaze passing over them like a breeze over a silent forest. He didn't linger on anyone in particular until—

The front row of Class A.

A figure caught his eye.

Small and slender. Her smooth, silver-white hair flowed like the finest silk, shimmering with a cool sheen under the bright lights of the auditorium. She sat quietly, wearing the same red uniform as everyone else, her back perfectly straight and her posture as elegant as a carefully placed doll's. Her profile was exquisitely delicate, her skin almost translucent, and her long eyelashes cast faint shadows beneath her eyes. She seemed to be holding a hardcover book, turning a page with unhurried grace. She carried a stillness and... an aloofness entirely at odds with the bustle around her.

Sakayanagi Arisu.

Kazama In's gaze rested on her for several seconds. Deep in his black pupils, a tiny stone seemed to have fallen into a still lake, stirring the faintest ripple. Then the ripple quickly settled, leaving the same deep tranquility. He looked away, as if he had merely confirmed something he already knew.

Just then, the lights suddenly focused on the high stage at the front of the auditorium.

A man walked up to the podium with steady steps. He wore the Advanced Nurturing High School teachers' uniform, but the insignia on his epaulettes and chest marked him as someone of higher rank. He was tall and upright, with a stern face and features as sharply defined as if carved with a blade. Beneath his short, slightly tousled black hair, his eyes were as keen as a hawk's. As his gaze swept over the auditorium from behind his glasses, it carried an intangible pressure that made people hold their breath.

The entire auditorium fell silent in an instant. You could have heard a pin drop.

"I am the Student Council President, Horikita Manabu."

His voice came through the microphone clearly, reaching every corner of the auditorium. It was low and steady, with the metallic timbre of unquestionable authority.

"First, welcome to Advanced Nurturing High School." Horikita Manabu's gaze swept over thousands of young faces below the stage as if it were tangible. His words were concise and forceful, with no unnecessary pleasantries. "You passed a rigorous selection process and made it here. But this is only the beginning."

He paused briefly. His imposing presence seemed to bring the entire space to a standstill.

"At Advanced Nurturing High School, everything you have is built on points." Horikita Manabu's voice was clear and cold, like someone reading aloud from a statute. "Every month, the school distributes varying amounts of Private Points based on each class's overall performance. These points are the only currency you can use to live at this school. Food, clothing, entertainment, even the recommendation resources you'll need for future advancement... everything is tied to points."

A suppressed wave of gasps and murmured conversation rose from the audience. The rule fell over the new students like a cold iron curtain, weighing instantly on every heart.

Horikita Manabu seemed not to hear the commotion below and continued in his even tone. "Class rankings, from A to D, determine your initial treatment and how easily you can earn points. Class A enjoys the best resources, while Class D is at the very bottom." His words were like icicles, striking the students in Class D at the back of the auditorium. Many of them immediately went pale.

Kazama In sat at the back, his face expressionless. His father's "Ladder theory" had just been confirmed by the cold reality before him.

"However," Horikita Manabu continued, his gaze behind his glasses seeming to sharpen as it swept across the auditorium like a searchlight, "this isn't set in stone. Advanced Nurturing High School believes in the survival of the fittest. Class rankings aren't permanent. With enough ability and intelligence, Class D can rise, and Class A... can fall just as easily."

"Ability, strategy, unity, leadership... Use everything you have to compete, to fight, to climb!" His voice suddenly rose, carrying a forceful, almost ruthless intensity. "Points are the only measure of your worth! No one here will take pity on you! You can rely only on yourselves!"

"Remember, your starting point determines where you are now, not where you'll end up! The Ladder is right before you. Whether you can climb it, step by step, depends entirely on your own 'ability'!"

"The survival of the fittest—this is the absolute principle upheld by Advanced Nurturing High School!"

"That is all."

Horikita Manabu gave a slight nod, ending his brief speech, which had struck every person there like a heavy blow. He didn't look at a single face in the audience. Turning around, he walked off the stage with steady steps, his back straight as a pine tree and hard as a rock.

The entire auditorium fell into a deathly silence. Thousands of new students, no matter which class they belonged to, wore expressions of shock, confusion, excitement, or solemn contemplation. Horikita Manabu's words had left a cold brand, carved deep into everyone's mind.

The survival of the fittest. Points above all. Class mobility. Climbing the Ladder...

Kazama In sat in the Class D section. Under the dimmer light at the back, his deep blue uniform seemed a few shades darker. He lifted his head slightly and looked past the shifting sea of heads toward the silver-haired figure in the front row of Class A—Sakayanagi Arisu. She still seemed absorbed in her book, as if the declaration that had shaken the hearts of every new student were no more than irrelevant background noise to her.

The Ladder had been laid out, and their starting points had been set.

There was no smoke, but the barriers between them were clear.

The entrance ceremony drew to a close in an indescribably solemn atmosphere. When the dismissal announcement came, the vast auditorium seemed to break free of a spell of silence, erupting at once into a tremendous roar. The new students stood and streamed toward the exits amid lively discussion, each carrying their own complicated feelings.

Kazama In stood with the crowd. The late-autumn afternoon sun slanted through the auditorium's tall stained-glass windows, casting alternating light and shadow across his calm profile. He took one last look toward the stage. It was empty now, leaving only echoes of Horikita Manabu's words behind, like cold metal fragments scattered across the vast space.

He set off with the crowd from Class D, joining the stream flowing toward the exit, the very place that marked their starting point. The sunlight was a little harsh as it fell on the shoulder emblem of his deep blue uniform. The symbol of Class D reflected a faint yet unmistakable gleam.

(I don't think it's a good idea to directly use the original work's speech, but I also feel like what I've written doesn't quite fit Horikita Manabu's character. Still, if these words can help the first-years face these issues sooner, then I suppose this idea wouldn't be impossible.)