Flaw

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the wide windows of classroom D-301, casting a warm glow over the desks. The bell for the end of class had long since rung, yet quite a few students remained in the room. The air was filled with light laughter and the faint sounds of stationery clinking together.

Kazama In sat in the second-to-last row by the window, one hand propping up his chin. His gaze appeared to drift casually over the swaying tree shadows outside, but in reality, it functioned like an invisible radar, absorbing the entire flow of information in the classroom.

Over the past few days, relying on that overly "hardcore" yet practical skill set—which he had inadvertently displayed during several group discussions and gym classes—along with the natural affinity brought by the misunderstanding of his "tragic past," and the image of a pure-hearted boy "yearning for a normal life" unexpectedly shaped by that book Love Song of Green Seasons, he had managed to blend subtly into the chaotic collective of Class D.

The small group of boys (led by Ike Kanji and Yamauchi Haruki) would pull him into discussions about games or complain about points; the group of girls (Kei Karuizawa, Matsushita Chiaki, and others) would naturally share snacks or include him in club talk, taking a liking to his unusual hair color and the occasional quiet aura he exuded. He was like a perfectly placed lubricant, existing quietly on the fringes of each circle—not diving deep, yet not being rejected either.

In front of his seat sat Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. Further ahead was Horikita Suzune.

At that moment, Kazama's ears keenly caught a faint, yet charged, exchange from the front row.

"...Your very existence is an obstacle to class unity. Unable to understand others, and unable to be understood by others, you only drag Class D down." Horikita Suzune's cold voice fell like beads of ice, carrying undisguised criticism, aimed directly at Ayanokoji Kiyotaka behind her. She didn't turn around, her back ramrod straight.

A brief silence. Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's flat, emotionless voice rang out, devoid of any fluctuation. "Horikita-san's statement is overly subjective. To exist is to be reasonable. Moreover, it seems I am not the only one who fails to integrate into the group." His counter was precise and bland, like stating the weather.

Horikita Suzune's shoulders seemed to stiffen a fraction more, clearly struck at a sore spot. "That is merely the result of my choice! Unlike some people, whose inability is an inevitable consequence of their own deficiencies!" Her voice carried a chill of offense.

"Deficiencies?" Ayanokoji's voice remained utterly calm. "Horikita-san seems to overestimate her own 'abilities.' For instance, in interpersonal relations, the 'ability' you display seems only to create distance."

"You...!" Horikita Suzune whipped her head around, her usually icy eyes now blazing with a spark of genuine fury as she glared at Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. The latter merely returned her gaze calmly, his eyes like two deep, ancient wells.

Just as the tension was about to escalate—

A very soft, almost inaudible chuckle came from behind them both.

Horikita Suzune and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka both froze for a moment, turning their gazes to the source of the sound.

Kazama In had somehow turned around, his elbow casually resting on the edge of Ayanokoji's desk. Beneath his three-seven-parted black hair, his ink-black pupils now held a rare, almost mischievous glint, like a crack in a frozen lake reflecting the sunlight outside, making him seem... vivid?

He looked at the pair before him—the two "socially challenged" individuals accusing each other of being "class cancers"—and the faint, ambiguous smile at the corner of his mouth deepened slightly.

"It seems," Kazama's voice broke the deadlock, carrying a strange calm, "that you two have encountered quite a challenge in the study of 'making friends'?"

The anger on Horikita Suzune's face was instantly replaced by a flustered embarrassment at being caught in her predicament. She let out a cold snort and immediately turned back, leaving only a rigid, cold back, though the tips of her ears seemed slightly red.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, meanwhile, continued to gaze calmly at Kazama, a hint of imperceptible scrutiny in his eyes. The "spectator" expression Kazama now wore, so different from his usual quiet detachment, caught him off guard.

Kazama ignored Horikita's "cold treatment," his gaze settling on Ayanokoji Kiyotaka with an air of understanding, like someone who had been through it all. He reached into his desk, fumbled for a moment, and pulled out a familiar-looking paperback—the very Love Song of Green Seasons.

He gently placed the book on Ayanokoji's desk and slid it over. The motion was as natural as handing over a regular textbook.

"Don't be discouraged," Kazama said, his tone utterly serious, which, paired with his composed face, carried a strange persuasiveness. "I learned my way of making friends from this book too. Maybe it could give you both some inspiration?"

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka: "..."

He stared at the paperback pushed in front of him, its cover depicting a shy boy and girl gazing at each other under a cherry blossom tree. The utterly flat, emotionless look in his eyes finally showed a minuscule crack. His gaze lingered on the title Love Song of Green Seasons for a full three seconds.

'...A romance novel?' A massive, silent scream echoed in his mind. Kazama... reads this? And he's recommending it to him? To learn how to make friends?

Horikita Suzune in the front row hadn't turned around, but she had clearly heard Kazama's words. Her shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly, as if she was struggling to hold something back. Finally, she whipped her head around, her cold face a complex mix of absurdity, disdain, and barely suppressed laughter, her sharp gaze boring into Kazama.

"Kazama-kun," she said, her voice strained from forced restraint, "are you serious? Using this... childish romance guide to..." She stopped mid-sentence, as if suddenly remembering something. The image of Kazama calmly stating he had "never truly experienced school life" flashed through her mind. The "tragic past" she had mistakenly interpreted made her swallow the second half of her more scathing mockery.

She took a deep breath, her tone softening slightly, carrying a helplessness that bordered on pity. "...Never mind. Your situation is special. But I suggest you focus your energy on more practical matters, like academics and raising the class points." With that, she turned back again, as if looking at that book one more time would be an insult to her own intelligence.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's gaze shifted from the book back to Kazama's face. He tried to find a trace of mockery or malice in the other's calm eyes, but found nothing. Kazama's expression was earnest, as if he truly believed this romance guide was a bible for making friends. More importantly, Ayanokoji's almost instinctual intuition told him that Kazama lacked the deliberate, cloyingly sweet "fake nice girl" vibe that Kushida Kikyo projected. His recommendation, though absurd in both target and content, seemed to stem from a clumsy, experience-based goodwill.

'No malice... even a bit... naive?' Ayanokoji analyzed internally. 'Usable.' The thought surfaced clearly. Kazama was well-liked in class and seemed capable (even if his skills were oddly skewed). If he could establish a connection, it might become a useful "tool." As for whether this "use" involved anything else... Ayanokoji automatically ignored that question; he didn't understand those complex emotions.

"Thank you, Kazama-kun," Ayanokoji said flatly, picking up the book and flipping through it casually, his tone devoid of any feeling. "I'll... take a look." He tucked the book into his desk.

Kazama nodded in satisfaction, as if he had just done a good deed.

Just then, a very faint, but in the relatively quiet classroom, clearly audible "grumble" came from Ayanokoji's stomach.

Ayanokoji's expression didn't change at all, as if the sound hadn't come from him.

"I'm going to the cafeteria," he said, standing up, his tone stating a fact.

Kazama looked at Ayanokoji. 'Building rapport'—a term he'd learned from that romance novel—floated into his mind again. Since he had decided to "make friends" (or rather, develop usable resources), sharing a meal seemed like a good step.

"I'll go too," Kazama said, also standing up, his movements brisk.

Ayanokoji glanced at him, gave no particular reaction, and simply nodded. "Mm." The two walked out of the classroom one after the other.

No sooner had they stepped out the door than a lively voice, bright as spring sunshine, rang out.

"Ah! Ayanokoji-kun! Kazama-kun! What a coincidence!"

Kushida Kikyo, as if she had been waiting there all along, greeted them with a brilliant smile. She wore her well-fitted uniform, her chestnut short hair looking especially soft in the sunlight, and her round, almond-shaped eyes curved into crescents, brimming with unreserved enthusiasm and approachability.

"Are you two heading to the cafeteria together?" She naturally stepped between them, subtly closing the distance, her gaze flitting back and forth between Ayanokoji and Kazama's faces with just the right amount of curiosity. "Perfect timing! There's something I wanted to ask you both!"

Kazama and Ayanokoji stopped simultaneously. Kazama's gaze rested calmly on Kushida's flawless smiling face, like the most precise scanner. Ayanokoji, meanwhile, maintained his usual flat expression.

"What is it?" Kazama asked, his voice even.

"Well," Kushida said, pressing her hands together in a cute pleading gesture, her smile growing even sweeter, "I noticed you two seem pretty close with Horikita-san? I often see you talking together!" Her tone carried a hint of well-placed envy and probing.

Kazama was silent. Ayanokoji spoke: "We're just seat neighbors."

"I see..." Kushida seemed a little disappointed, but immediately perked up, her eyes filled with sincere concern. "Actually, I'm really worried about Horikita-san. She's always alone, and she doesn't seem to want to talk to anyone. That's not good for her, or for the unity of our Class D, right?" She looked at Kazama, then at Ayanokoji, seeking agreement.

"I think Horikita-san is someone with strong opinions," Kazama stated calmly, not following Kushida's lead.

"Mm, yes! She seems really capable!" Kushida immediately nodded in agreement, but then shifted her tone, adding a pleading note. "But being alone all the time is just too lonely, isn't it? Since you two are close with her (she emphasized this point), could you do me a favor? Find a chance to invite her to join a class activity? Or... have a meal together and chat? I really want to become friends with Horikita-san!" She clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling as she looked at them, full of expectation and "goodwill."

Neither Kazama nor Ayanokoji answered immediately. The air was filled with the faint, sweet scent of Kushida's perfume and her overly intense "kindness."

After a brief silence.

"I'll think about it." Kazama In gave an ambiguous reply.

"If the opportunity arises." Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's answer was equally watertight.

"That's great! Thank you both!" Kushida Kikyo seemed satisfied with the response, her smile growing even brighter, like a sunflower basking in sunlight. "Then I won't keep you from lunch! Bye-bye!" She waved cheerfully, bounced away, leaving behind a vibrant silhouette.

Only when her figure disappeared around the corridor corner did Kazama In and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka withdraw their gazes and exchange a look.

"Very enthusiastic." Kazama In commented, his tone flat.

"Mm." Ayanokoji Kiyotaka acknowledged.

Neither spoke again, silently continuing toward the cafeteria in tacit understanding. But in their wordless exchange of glances, an unspoken recognition had been reached: beneath Kushida Kikyo's flawless warmth and affability seemed to lurk a deliberate, overdone sense of performance. That urgency to fit in, to be liked by everyone, even to the point of showcasing her value through "helping" others (especially someone like Horikita Suzune who clearly resisted)... Perhaps that was precisely the key "flaw" that, despite all her "effort," had landed her in Class D.

The cafeteria buzzed with noise, the aroma of food mingling with various conversations. Kazama In and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka carried their trays and found a relatively secluded corner to sit.

On their trays was simple katsu-don. Kazama In ate with brisk efficiency, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the noisy crowd. Ayanokoji Kiyotaka maintained his nearly mechanical, standardized eating motions.

"Class D," Kazama In set down his chopsticks, picked up his water glass for a sip, his eyes landing on Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's face, his voice calm as he broke the silence, "on the surface, has the lowest starting point, is in chaos, and seems inferior to the other classes in every way."

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka paused his chewing, lifting his calm eyes to Kazama In, waiting for him to continue.

"But I've observed for a few days," Kazama In went on, his tone like analyzing a report, "the people in this class aren't truly weak or stupid. Sudo Ken's athletic ability far exceeds normal standards, his explosive power astonishing; Ike Kanji and Yamauchi Haruki, though frivolous, aren't weak in information gathering and livening up the atmosphere; Hirata Yosuke has natural leadership charisma and coordination skills; Kushida Kikyo's affability and social skills are top-tier, though..." He paused, not pointing out their earlier observation, "...and Horikita Suzune—her learning ability and goal-oriented nature are strong."

He paused, his jet-black pupils staring straight into Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's deep, pool-like eyes: "They each have their own areas of expertise, and... equally obvious flaws. These flaws, magnified infinitely under Advanced Nurturing's cold point system, have led to Class D's current state. It's like a set of gears—each part has its function, but either the sizes don't match, the positions are misaligned, or... they outright refuse to mesh with the other gears."

His gaze lingered meaningfully on Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's face, his voice dropping a few notes with an almost blunt insight: "And you, Ayanokoji, your 'flaw'... might be that you seem to lack something."

"What?" Ayanokoji Kiyotaka asked calmly, as if inquiring about something unrelated to himself.

"Emotion." Kazama In articulated the two words clearly, like stating an observation. "Or rather, a drive based on emotional resonance to form deep connections with others. All your actions seem like executing a preset program—precise, efficient, but lacking warmth. You observe everyone, analyze everything, like studying specimens. This absolute rationality and detachment, in an environment that demands cohesion and human touch, is itself a powerful... barrier."

The air seemed to freeze for a moment. The cafeteria's clamor appeared to be shut out.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka looked calmly at Kazama In, and deep within those still, well-like eyes, something extremely subtle flickered, too fast to catch. He was silent for a few seconds, then the corner of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly, forming a curve that was barely a smile.

"Kazama's observation is quite sharp." His voice remained flat. "Emotion... might be an impediment to efficiency. But undeniably, in certain situations, it can serve as an effective adhesive." He picked up his spoon, scooped up a mouthful of rice, and brought it to his mouth, his movements still standard. "I'll... consider your suggestion."

Kazama In said nothing more, picking up his chopsticks to continue eating. He had said enough. He could see the abnormality in Ayanokoji Kiyotaka—that inhuman calm and absolute rationality were no ordinary thing. Combined with the clues he had picked up earlier... a name surfaced in his mind: White Room. That dehumanizing "perfect human" breeding ground built by his father, Ayanokoji Atsuomi.

He knew Ayanokoji Atsuomi. That man... was like the core of a precision machine—cold, powerful, single-minded in purpose. His "creation" appearing here was no coincidence.

The two finished their meal in silence, not delving deeper into the topic. At checkout, Kazama In proactively swiped his points. Leaving the cafeteria, at the fork leading to different dormitory areas, they stopped in tacit understanding.

"See you." Ayanokoji Kiyotaka said flatly.

"Mm." Kazama In nodded.

They parted ways.