The Pocket Watch and the Ladder

The afternoon sunlight slanted through the broad windows of Classroom D-301, casting bright patches across the brand-new wooden desks. Fine dust drifted in the air, along with the lingering atmosphere the freshmen had brought back from the auditorium—a mixture of shock, bewilderment, and faint excitement.

Kazama In took his seat by the window, second row from the back. The voices in the classroom swelled like waves rushing back in after the tide had gone out, even noisier than before they had gone to the auditorium. Horikita Manabu's chilling, hard-hitting declaration that "ability comes first" had been like a boulder thrown into a lake, and the ripples it had stirred were still spreading.

The buzz of discussion filled the room.

Kazama In took no part in any of the conversations. His expression remained as calm as ever, almost indifferent, as if that speech in the auditorium, which was enough to upend their understanding of the world, had merely confirmed a rule he already knew. He reached into his desk, took out his dark blue backpack, and unzipped it without hurry.

He took out neither textbooks nor notes. Amid the other students' excited discussions and nervous perusal of their freshman handbooks, he pulled out a paperback novel with a softly colored cover depicting the silhouettes of a boy and a girl beneath a cherry tree. The title was clearly printed on the spine: Love Song of Green Seasons.

A straightforward romance about youthful love at school.

It stood in sharp contrast to the calm, almost aloof coolness that seemed to radiate from him. He placed the book gently on his desk, turned the pages with his long fingers, and let his quiet gaze fall on the lines of text. Sunlight from the window touched his sharply defined profile, and his long eyelashes cast faint, fan-shaped shadows beneath his eyes.

He read with intense focus, turning the pages softly and at a steady pace. The commotion around him—the obvious irritation and discontent in Ken Sudō's muttering, Kushida Kikyo's sweet voice as she tried to soothe everyone and foster a harmonious atmosphere, Hirata Yosuke's gentle attempts to mediate, and everyone else's talk about points, class rankings, and the future—seemed shut out by an invisible barrier.

But he wasn't entirely absorbed in the story. A killer's instincts had long since seeped into his bones, making his hearing as precise as the most sophisticated radar, taking in everything around him without distinction. The direction of every sound, the speaker's emotional state, the intentions hidden in their words... He processed and filed it all even as he appeared to read calmly. It was an ingrained state of vigilance that he couldn't switch off. He was reading about the "ordinary" youthful stirrings portrayed in the book, which were almost foreign to him, while also "reading" the noisy, very real group of freshmen called Class D.

He turned a page. The story had reached a heartwarming chapter. After school, in the library, the heroine gathered her courage and gave a love letter to the upperclassman she had a crush on. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, and the air was filled with the scent of old books and the sweet anxiety of a young girl. The words delicately described her trembling fingertips, her quickening heartbeat, and her pure, untainted hopes.

Kazama In's gaze lingered for a moment on the words describing the heroine's heartbeat and trembling fingertips.

His fingers unconsciously brushed over the page, as though he could feel the emotions flowing beneath the fictional paper. An almost imperceptible, indescribable stirring rippled through the still waters of his heart, like a stone dropped into a deep pool. Was it a sense of unfamiliarity with the "purity" and "ordinariness" depicted in the book? A longing for them? Even he couldn't clearly define it.

That faint ripple touched something deeper in his heart.

As if acting on its own, his other hand slipped into the inner pocket of his uniform. His fingertips touched a cold metal object, worn smooth by time. He gently took it out.

It was an old-fashioned silver pocket watch. Tiny scratches around its case spoke of the passage of time. At its center was engraved the intricate, elegant crest of the Kazama Clan: intertwined vines and a sword.

He pressed lightly against the edge of the cover with his thumb.

"Click."

The cover sprang open with a soft sound.

Beneath the watch face was a small, round photograph, faded slightly with age. It showed three people.

The setting was the garden of the Kazama Family's old estate, bathed in sunlight. His young father, Kazama Ryunosuke, looked handsome and refined, a gentle smile playing on his lips. His eyes were bright and full of strength. One arm rested tenderly around the woman beside him. She had smooth, cascading black hair and a gentle, beautiful face. Her eyes, like a lake filled with starlight, curved slightly as she smiled with quiet happiness. In her arms was a little boy who looked about three or four years old. His hair was soft and black, his small face delicate, and his dark eyes watched the camera with a child's guileless curiosity. That boy was Kazama In.

The photograph was small, but it clearly captured a warm moment that had long since passed. It was one of the few complete memories he had of "home."

Kazama In's gaze remained fixed on his mother's gentle smile, lingering there almost greedily. In the photograph, there wasn't a trace of gloom in her smile, only pure serenity and love for the people around her. Her smile overlapped with his memory of her final days, when she had been pale and weak but still forced herself to smile at him, bringing a sharp, belated pang of pain.

His fingertips brushed his mother's cheek in the photograph. The cold metal beneath them seemed to carry the warmth of the past.

Mother... A thought, as soft as a sigh, rippled through the deepest part of his heart. Could I... really have a life like this? An ordinary life without darkness or bloodshed, with nothing but sunlight and books?

His mother's gentle, smiling eyes in the photograph seemed to gaze quietly at him across time, filled with endless hope and... a sadness he couldn't put into words. That sadness was like a hidden brand, buried deep in the roots of his becoming the Arbiter.

Just then, a warm voice with remarkable clarity rang out, perfectly breaking through the classroom's din and interrupting Kazama In's memories.

"Everyone, could I have your attention, please?"

It was Hirata Yosuke. He stood beside the podium with an exceptionally approachable smile. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to every corner of the classroom. His natural leadership and gentle manner quickly quieted the buzzing discussions.

"We've all just arrived in a new environment, and we don't know one another very well yet. Why don't we take this opportunity to introduce ourselves briefly?" Hirata Yosuke's gaze swept across the class encouragingly. "That way, we can get to know one another faster and understand each other better. It'll also help Class D become more united. What do you think?"

Most of the class immediately supported the suggestion. Kushida Kikyo was especially enthusiastic, clapping her hands in agreement. "Hirata's right! That's a great idea! Let's all get to know one another!" Her smile was sweet and infectious.

Kazama In closed the pocket watch without drawing attention to himself. It made a soft click. The faded photograph and his mother's gentle smile disappeared beneath the cold silver cover. The faint trace of emotion that memories had brought to his face vanished as well, and his usual calm returned. He gently closed Love Song of Green Seasons and placed it at the corner of his desk.

The introductions began, starting at the front and moving backward by seat.

"My name's Kanji Ike! In middle school, I..."

"My name's Yamauchi Haruki! I love video games and anime! My goal is..."

"I'm Karuizawa Kei! Nice to meet you!"

"Kushida Kikyo! I'm so glad to meet you all! I hope we can become good friends!"

Voices rose and fell, filled with the energy of youth, shyness, or forced confidence. Some students stammered nervously, some tried to crack jokes to liven things up, and others kept their introductions brief. Kazama In listened quietly, his gaze resting calmly on each classmate as they stood, as if observing a series of specimens.

Soon, it was the turn of the student in front of Kazama In. He was a tall, muscular boy with clear impatience in his eyes: Ken Sudō. He stood and spoke gruffly. "Ken Sudō! I used to play basketball! That's about it!" His tone was blunt. He sat back down heavily, and the legs of his chair scraped against the floor with an ear-splitting noise.

Then it was Kazama In's turn.

He stood.

His movements were smooth and precise, without a hint of hesitation. As he straightened, his upright frame and composed presence immediately drew every eye in the classroom.

His short, black hair, parted in a three-to-seven ratio, shone healthily in the sunlight. Most striking of all, several strands near his left temple were almost silver-white, interspersed with a few fine, dark-red streaks like frozen lines of blood. The unusual color sharply contrasted with his deep-set features and pale skin, giving him an air that was both mysterious and almost unreal.

"Kazama In." His voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear and steady, with a strange carrying power that instantly silenced the faint noises in the classroom. He offered no title or polite opening.

He paused briefly, as if organizing his thoughts. His dark eyes swept calmly over his classmates, their gaze deep enough to seem to see through them.

"Areas of expertise: hand-to-hand combat, including multiple styles; use of firearms and melee weapons; intelligence analysis; logical deduction; multiple languages, including some dialects; computer technology, including hardware, software, and cybersecurity; basic medical first aid; wilderness survival; disguise and infiltration; rapid memorization; precision tool use, including lock-picking..."

He spoke at an even pace, as though reading from a technical list. His words were clear, without any hint of boasting; he was simply stating facts. With each item, the atmosphere in the classroom grew stranger. Looks that had held curiosity or interest gradually shifted to shock, disbelief, and even suspicion. Combat and weapons were one thing, but intelligence analysis? Infiltration? Lock-picking? Those skills didn't sound like the skill set of an ordinary high school student at all!

As he spoke, Kazama In's gaze unconsciously fell on the cover of Love Song of Green Seasons at the corner of his desk. His mind flashed back to the "pure" friendships described in the book, as well as the so-called "theories" of human relationships he knew from the underworld, where people deceived, tested, and guarded against one another.

He had prepared a declaration about friendship based on principles such as "keeping one's distance," "observing and assessing," and "avoiding unnecessary contact"—something more befitting his identity as the Arbiter. The words turned once on his tongue before he silently swallowed them.

If I don't intend to make friends sincerely, I shouldn't parade those self-important theories.

The thought came to him clearly.

So he ended his astonishing "skill list" and shifted topics with complete naturalness, his voice still calm and emotionless. "...That's all. Also, I'm interested in an ordinary high school life and studies. I hope we can all get along." He spoke that last sentence very earnestly. Though his tone still lacked warmth, his desire to "get along" came through clearly.

He finished and began to sit down.

"Wait! Kazama!" A girl near the front couldn't help calling out. She pointed at his hair, her eyes wide. "Your... your hair? Is it dyed? The white and red parts... They're so unusual!"

Kazama In paused and straightened up again. He casually ran a hand over the differently colored strands at his temple.

"It isn't dyed." His voice remained flat, revealing no emotion. "It's natural. Probably some kind of... hereditary pigment abnormality." The explanation was only half true, but it was convincing enough.

"Natural? That's so cool!" another boy exclaimed.

"Um... Kazama, what's the book you're reading?" Another girl pointed curiously at the paperback on the corner of his desk. "A romance novel?"

Kazama In's gaze fell on the softly colored cover of Love Song of Green Seasons. He was silent for a moment.

"Yes," he admitted frankly. "I wanted to learn about... normal high school life." He raised his eyes and met the curious, searching gazes with a calm look, then added, "For personal reasons, I... didn't have the chance to really experience school life before."

His tone was calm. He was simply stating an objective fact: his past as the Arbiter had indeed deprived him of the experience of being an ordinary student. But when his classmates heard those words, and recalled his unusually "hardcore" list of skills, they automatically interpreted them as hinting at some kind of "tragic past." Perhaps he had missed school due to a serious illness? Perhaps family circumstances had forced him to drop out? Whatever it was, it must have been terrible for someone who seemed so talented—despite having such an unusual skill set—to have missed out on the youth he should have had.

The classroom fell silent at once. The suspicion and curiosity in everyone's eyes quickly gave way to sympathy and a trace of guilt. Even Ken Sudō, unusually, didn't sneer.

"So that's what happened..." Kushida Kikyo murmured, looking at Kazama In with sincere concern.

"Sorry, Kazama. We shouldn't have asked so many questions..." someone said quietly.

Hirata Yosuke also gave him an understanding smile. "It's okay, Kazama. We're all classmates now. We can experience it together here in Class D!"

As Kazama In looked at the unfeigned sympathy and kindness on their faces, he felt a faint, almost absurd stir within himself. He didn't need their sympathy, but... this kind acceptance, born of being "misunderstood," seemed a little better than the result he'd expected from deliberately keeping his distance.

He nodded slightly in response to their kindness, then calmly returned to his seat.

Next was Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.

His introduction was as brief as it could possibly be. "Ayanokoji Kiyotaka." His voice was unremarkable, with no change in emotion, and he sat down as soon as he had finished. Compared with Kazama In's striking introduction, it was so bland that the class had hardly reacted before he was already done.

Ken Sudō was clearly very dissatisfied with such a brief introduction. On top of his accumulated irritation, he suddenly kicked the leg of the desk in front of him!

"Bang!" The loud crash exploded through the quiet classroom.

"Hey, you! Could you at least take your introduction seriously?!" Ken Sudō roared at Ayanokoji, his tone aggressive.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka merely turned and looked at Ken Sudō calmly. His eyes were as still as a deep pool, without a ripple. Then he turned away again, as if nothing had happened.

The atmosphere in the classroom immediately became stiff and awkward.

Just then, the classroom's front door opened. Their homeroom teacher, Chabashira Sae, walked in, still wearing her dark gray suit, her expression stern and a folder in her hand. Her sharp gaze swept over the class, instantly suppressing all the commotion. Ken Sudō reluctantly withdrew his foot as well.

"Looks like you've had a lively discussion." Chabashira Sae's voice held no warmth. She walked behind the podium, set her folder on the desk, and continued, "That's enough for introductions. Now, I'll explain the core rules of Advanced Nurturing High School."

Without any preamble, she went straight to the point, her tone like someone reading aloud from a cold contract.

"I'm sure Student Council President Horikita emphasized the principle that 'ability comes first' at the opening ceremony. Here, the only measure of your value is your Private Points." Chabashira Sae picked up a piece of chalk, turned around, and wrote "S Points" in large letters on the blackboard.

"Every month, the school evaluates your class's overall performance and awards points accordingly. These points will be deposited directly into the electronic account linked to your student ID. The initial amount is 100,000." She paused, her gaze sweeping over the students in Class D like a physical presence. "."

Her gaze finally settled on the Class D section, and she stated clearly, "Class D receives 100,000 points per month."

"Whoa—!"

"100,000?!"

"That's a lot!"

The discussion rose and fell. Chabashira Sae watched the commotion below without expression and didn't immediately stop it. Only when the noise had died down a little did she add coldly:

"Quiet! The rules are the rules. Class D's initial points are 100,000. Points are the currency you'll use here. You'll need them for food, clothing, housing, transportation, learning resources, club activities, and even recommendations for further education. If you don't have enough points, your quality of life will plummet, and you might even face expulsion."

Her words were like icy water, dousing some of the anger and leaving only cold reality and crushing pressure behind.

"Points aren't fixed." Chabashira Sae changed tack. "Class rankings aren't permanent. The school will conduct comprehensive evaluations regularly. If Class D shows enough ability, unity, and leadership, and achieves excellent results in exams, activities, discipline, and other areas, your class points will increase. In turn, the number of Private Points awarded each month will also rise! On the other hand, if your performance is poor, your points will be deducted and your ranking may even drop, though Class D is already at the bottom."

She looked around at the faces below her, some solemn, some confused, and some beginning to show a glimmer of hope. "A low starting point doesn't mean you have to finish low. Whether you can shed the Class D label, earn more points, live better, and even graduate as Class A... all of it depends on you. Remember, here, the only people you can rely on are yourselves and the 'classmates' by your side."

"Ability comes first. That is the one and only truth of Advanced Nurturing High School."

"That's all for the rules. Nothing else is scheduled for today. Familiarize yourselves with the school. Classes officially begin tomorrow. You're dismissed."

After speaking, Chabashira Sae briskly picked up her folder and left the classroom, leaving behind a deathly silence. Then even more heated discussions, complaints, and worries erupted.

Kazama In sat at his desk, taking no part in the discussion. He quietly listened to the anxious conversations around him about not having enough points, cafeteria prices, and how to improve the class ranking.

Points... currency... rankings... He repeated the keywords silently to himself. Chabashira Sae's explanation had clearly outlined how this "new battlefield" worked. Cold numbers, precise evaluations, naked self-interest, and social mobility... It was less a school than a miniature, more transparent version of a brutal society.

His father's words, "You must climb the ladder yourself," were confirmed in a chilling way at that moment. This ladder was built from bricks called "points." Class D was the very bottom rung.

A faint, almost mocking curve appeared at the corner of his mouth and vanished. How similar these rules were to some of the laws of the dark world he knew. Only here, points took the place of bloodshed, and class competition concealed a more naked law of the jungle.

He reached out, his fingers unconsciously touching the silver pocket watch in his pocket. The cold metal pressed through the fabric.

Mother... The silent call rose again, carrying an even deeper confusion. In this "ordinary" school, where everything was precisely measured in points, in this gilded cage called "ability comes first," did the "normal life" he wanted really exist? And how was he supposed to climb the ladder leading to the sunlight?

The sunlight outside the window remained bright, but it seemed to have taken on a cold edge. He sat in silence amid the bustle of Class D, like an island alone in the sea.