The Ladder Must Be Climbed Yourself

Outside the convenience store's glass doors, angry roars crashed like solid waves, making the doorframe vibrate. The gathered Class D students were seething, faces flushed as they shouted at the air or at one another, venting their immense dissatisfaction with their hundred thousand points and their Class D label. At the very front of the crowd, Kazama In clearly spotted Ken Sudō's distinctive red hair and sturdy build. He was shaking his fists and roaring at three boys in upper-year uniforms who were blocking the convenience store entrance, spittle almost flying into their faces.

"Get out of the way! Don't block the entrance! I'm going in to buy something!"

"Buy something? What can a bunch of poor Class D losers buy with a hundred thousand points? Give it up!" The upper-year student at the front was tall, with spiky hair and undisguised contempt and mockery on his face. He crossed his arms and looked down at Sudō. "If you know what's good for you, get lost. Don't stand around here and lower the standards of our school!"

"What did you say?!" Ken Sudō's anger flared instantly. The veins on his forehead bulged, and his fists clenched with a crackle. He looked ready to charge.

The other two upper-year students stepped forward as well, flanking their companion. Amused smiles played on their faces; they clearly didn't take this bunch of first-year Class D "rabble" seriously.

Inside the convenience store, Horikita Suzune's expression had turned as cold as ice, and her eyes brimmed with disgust. She folded her arms and angled herself toward the shelves, as if she wanted to cut those "embarrassing" classmates outside out of her sight. "Utterly foolish. What can they accomplish besides venting useless emotions?" she scoffed under her breath, her voice full of disdain.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka silently took another half-step back, almost disappearing into the shadows of the shelves. His calm gaze swept over the chaos outside, as if he were watching a pantomime that had nothing to do with him. His stance made his position clear: he wouldn't get involved.

Kazama In's gaze quickly passed over the furious Sudō outside, the three contemptuous upper-year students, and the two classmates beside him who were clearly staying out of it. Deep in his ink-black eyes, there was not a ripple. He assessed the situation and made his decision in an instant, almost instinctively.

Without the slightest hesitation, he pushed his shopping cart straight toward the entrance.

The automatic doors sensed someone approaching and slid silently open.

The noise outside and the air thick with hostility rushed in at once. Kazama In appeared clearly in the doorway, standing right between Ken Sudō and the three upper-year students.

His sudden appearance was like a block of ice dropped into boiling oil. The roar of the crowd faltered. Ken Sudō froze for a moment when he saw Kazama In. His anger hadn't faded, but he instinctively stopped yelling. The three upper-year students also fixed their gazes on the newcomer.

Kazama In didn't have Sudō's outwardly explosive temper. He stood straight, his dark blue uniform especially subdued in the evening light. Beneath his neatly parted black hair, his ink-black eyes met the three upper-year students' assessing, contemptuous stares without wavering. There was no anger in his gaze, nor the slightest hint of evasion—only an unfathomable stillness, like that of a cold pool.

That stillness unsettled the three upper-year students, who had been acting so domineeringly. The spiky-haired leader frowned and sized Kazama In up, trying to figure out what gave this first-year the confidence to be so "calm." He noticed the conspicuous silver-white strands and dark red highlights at Kazama In's temple. Surprise flashed through his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by even greater contempt. He was just some first-year who liked to show off.

"What, another useless Class D loser?" The spiky-haired boy sneered, trying to regain control of the situation. "You here to stick up for him?" He pointed at Ken Sudō.

Kazama In ignored the provocation. His gaze calmly swept over the three boys, and his voice, though not loud, carried clearly through the surrounding noise. "Are you blocking the convenience store entrance because you need something in particular, upperclassmen?" His tone was mild, as if he were asking about an everyday matter.

"Need something?" The upper-year student beside the spiky-haired boy, who wore an earring, let out a mocking laugh. "We just can't stand looking at a bunch of broke Class D losers! What, want to buy something? Beg us for it! Maybe if I'm in a good mood, I'll spare you a few points for a pack of tissues!"

Their shrill laughter rang out. The Class D students grew even angrier, but faced with three upper-year students who clearly weren't to be trifled with, they didn't dare speak up.

Kazama In's expression didn't change at all. He even turned his head slightly and glanced inside the convenience store. Through the glass, he could see Horikita Suzune's icy face and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's figure hidden in the shadows. He looked back at the spiky-haired boy.

"Your sense of superiority seems to rest on preventing other people from buying daily necessities." Kazama In's voice remained even, as if he were stating an objective fact, but his words made the spiky-haired boy's expression stiffen. "According to school rules, deliberately obstructing a classmate's normal use of school facilities and disrupting order is grounds for having your Class Points deducted." He paused, his gaze settling on the Class B badge on the spiky-haired boy's chest. "An upperclassman from Class B should understand better than we do how valuable points are, right?"

"You...!" The spiky-haired boy was left speechless by Kazama In's calm words, each of which struck at the rules' weak point. A deduction in Class Points! That was the last thing they wanted. Kazama In's gaze was too composed; it made him feel uneasy, as if the other boy weren't bluffing but really knew something—or simply didn't care about the consequences.

The other two upper-year students' expressions changed, and their arrogance visibly ebbed. They'd only wanted some fun and a chance to bully the bottom-tier first-years. They didn't want to get into real trouble, especially not trouble that might affect their class's points, a matter of vital interest!

"Hmph! A sharp-tongued brat!" The spiky-haired boy gave a derisive snort, trying to save face despite his bluster. "Class D trash can only run their mouths! Let's go!" He glared at Kazama In, then at Ken Sudō, who was still fuming, and turned to shove his way through the crowd with his two lackeys, grumbling curses as they left. Before going, the boy with the earring even turned back to spit. "Ptooey! What a pain!"

After the upper-year students left, the gathered Class D students were still indignant, but with no clear target for their anger—and after Kazama In's words had reminded them how strict the school rules were—the crowd gradually dispersed. They left one by one, their spirits heavy.

"Bastards! They're lucky they got away! Otherwise, I'd have beaten them till they were crawling!" Ken Sudō shook his fist angrily in the direction the upper-year students had gone, still unable to calm down. He turned sharply and spotted a half-full trash can nearby. With nowhere to vent the anger in his chest, he raised his foot to kick it over.

A long, strong hand came down firmly on his shoulder.

Ken Sudō whipped around and met Kazama In's calm, ink-black eyes.

"Calm down, Sudō." Kazama In's voice wasn't loud, but it had a strange power to carry. "Kicking it over would only make a mess, create extra work for the cleaner, and possibly attract the attention of a Disciplinary Committee Member and get our pitiful points deducted. It would serve no purpose."

Sudō panted heavily and glared at Kazama In. Kazama In met his gaze calmly, his hand steady and strong on Sudō's shoulder, carrying an undeniable force that stopped Sudō's violent impulse as if it had hit an invisible wall.

"B-but... those bastards!" Sudō growled in frustration, but slowly lowered his foot.

"They're gone." Kazama In released him, his tone mild. "Wasting your emotions on pointless provocation is what weak people do."

The words seemed to strike a nerve with Sudō. He paused and looked at Kazama In's composed face, then remembered how a few words from him had driven off three upper-year students. That kind of situation couldn't be solved by sheer anger... The fury in his chest began to fade in a strange way. His expression was still dark, but at least he was no longer out of control.

At that moment, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka also came out of the convenience store, carrying a small bag with a few basic items. His expression remained as placid as ever.

Kazama In's gaze shifted between Ken Sudō and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. A scene from Love Song of Green Seasons flashed through his mind: the protagonist trying to grow closer to a friend by suggesting they go eat together.

An invitation... a shared activity... getting to know each other better... The theory from the book surfaced clearly. It was meant to help develop a romantic relationship, but... the principle of getting closer to classmates should be about the same, right?

Kazama In looked at Ken Sudō, who was still angry but had clearly calmed down, then glanced at the silent Ayanokoji Kiyotaka beside him. "Don't dwell on what happened just now. Want to get something to eat?" His tone was direct, not particularly warm, but not cold either, as if he were simply making a suggestion.

Sudō paused. He clearly hadn't expected Kazama In, who looked so cold and had such strange yet impressive skills, to suddenly invite him. He scratched his head. "Something to eat? Where? Points..."

"My treat," Kazama In replied briefly. A hundred thousand points wasn't much to him, but it was more than enough to pay for a simple meal.

"Huh? Oh... sure." Sudō still felt a little awkward, but someone was offering to pay, and Kazama In had helped him just now, even if he didn't want to admit it. So he nodded.

Kazama In turned to Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. "Ayanokoji, want to come too?"

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's calm, unreadable eyes turned toward Kazama In. He was silent for a second, as if assessing the intent behind the invitation, then nodded. "Sure." His voice was flat.

Kazama In remembered Horikita Suzune inside the convenience store. He turned toward the glass doors. Horikita Suzune was coming out with her shopping bag, her face still cold. She clearly had no interest in anything that had happened outside.

"Horikita, would you like to join us?" Kazama In asked directly, without any extra words.

Horikita Suzune didn't even pause or look at the three of them. Her cool voice fell like an ice bead hitting the ground. "I'm not interested." She walked straight past them and headed toward the dormitories without looking back, her back straight and proud.

Kazama In wasn't surprised by the result. He turned back to Ken Sudō and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. "Let's go."

The three of them didn't go far. They sat down at a student café beside the convenience store, where simple meals and drinks were served. Kazama In ordered three basic curry rice sets. The atmosphere was somewhat quiet and awkward.

Ken Sudō bent over his food and ate in big mouthfuls, clearly treating it as an outlet for his anger. Ayanokoji Kiyotaka ate slowly and methodically, his movements textbook-perfect. His eyes were unfocused, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Kazama In ate quietly, his movements efficient yet graceful, occasionally glancing at the two across from him as if observing them.

At one point, Ken Sudō mumbled a few complaints about having too few points and upper-year bastards. Kazama In listened quietly without agreeing or disagreeing. Ayanokoji Kiyotaka stayed silent the whole time.

The meal passed quickly. It did little to bring them closer and felt more like a gathering to complete a task. When it was time to pay, Kazama In used his student ID to pay the points, and the three of them went their separate ways back to their dorms.

Back in his simple, nearly empty single dorm room, Kazama In turned and locked the door.

Night had already fallen over the campus outside the window. The lights in the distant school buildings shone like scattered stars. The main light was off in his room; only the screen of the school-issued phone he had "liberated" cast a faint blue glow from the desk.

Kazama In walked over and sat at the desk. The calm mask he wore to handle campus life instantly fell away, replaced by a focus bordering on coldness. He picked up his phone and rapidly swiped his fingers across the screen. Rather than entering the usual interface, he used a series of extremely complex key combinations and gestures to enter a command-line mode with deep system access.

Green code poured down the pitch-black screen like a waterfall.

He started running the deep-scan program he had installed. Like an invisible ghost, the program silently infiltrated the Advanced Nurturing High School's campus network. Its targets were clear:

1. Check whether his intervention in the conflict outside the convenience store, as well as his earlier phone breach, had left any unusual traces in the school's surveillance system or triggered an alert.

2. Try to obtain more information about the core parameters and weightings of the "Class Points" evaluation system.

3. Make an initial search of the school network's architecture for any other noteworthy encrypted nodes or unusual data flows.

His fingers flew over the virtual keyboard, entering commands with precision. The code scrolling across the screen was an extension of his thoughts as he silently navigated, probed, and analyzed the world of the network.

Time passed in silence. The scanning program ran unusually smoothly. It seemed the surveillance records of his own actions had been bypassed perfectly—or perhaps the school's surveillance of new students was simply more lenient at the start? The convenience store incident was recorded as an ordinary "first-year dispute; upper-year students intervened and left on their own." It hadn't been flagged as unusual.

Information on Class Points, however, was protected with extreme rigor. The core evaluation algorithm was locked inside a physically isolated server and couldn't be accessed directly from the external network. From some peripheral logs, he could only infer that the assessment covered several areas, including classroom discipline, exam results, participation in club activities, and spot checks of dorm cleanliness. The specific weightings and formula were impossible to determine.

Just as Kazama In was about to end his search, the scanning program picked up an extremely faint, anomalous data flow, almost buried in the ordinary traffic.

Its encryption method was highly unusual—not a standard protocol used by the school, but stamped with the distinctive encryption signature of a particular organization. Like a crafty dark snake, it had flashed through an underlying channel in the campus network, and its path seemed to point toward... the Student Council offices?

Kazama In's fingers hovered over the keyboard for an instant. His ink-black pupils contracted slightly in the glow of the screen.

The Student Council... Horikita Manabu?

The data flow had appeared only briefly, and its contents couldn't be decrypted. But Kazama In would never mistake that distinctive encryption signature. It belonged to an extremely secretive international intelligence brokerage known as The Courier, an organization that had once had subtle dealings with the Kazama Family.

Why had The Courier's encrypted signal appeared in the Advanced Nurturing High School's campus network? And why did it seem connected to the Student Council?

Kazama In immediately tried to trace it, but the signal had vanished completely, as if it had never appeared. The other party had clearly used the highest-level anti-tracking techniques.

He stopped the scanning program and exited command-line mode. The phone screen returned to its normal home screen, its faint blue glow illuminating his composed profile.

The night outside was deep. Beneath the Advanced Nurturing High School's peaceful façade, darker currents seemed to be flowing than he had expected. The competition for points and the rise and fall of classes were merely the tip of the iceberg on the surface.

Had his father really sent him here just to experience "the Ladder"? And were the secrets buried deep in his mother's gentle eyes connected to this school?

Kazama In picked up his phone, his fingers absently brushing across the screen. On the home screen, the message from an unknown number still sat quietly in the notification bar:

[The Ladder must be climbed yourself.]

He stared silently at those seven characters. Deep in his ink-black eyes, like a bottomless cold pool, lay the faint blue glow of the screen and the boundless darkness beyond the window.