Bus to the School of Rules

The sunlight of late August was filtered through the car window, landing on his knees with only a lukewarm warmth.

Yoshikage Kira sat in a single seat by the window of the school bus, his sleeves neatly folded to the middle of his forearms. He did not look out the window, nor did he look at his phone. He simply sat there quietly.

The boy in the row ahead kept rubbing the strap of his backpack. The movement was light, but the frequency was too high—the edge of a reference book peeked out from the side pocket, the school emblem of a prestigious academy printed on its spine. An honor student, feeling nervous. The reason for the tension was not hard to guess: a new school, new classmates, and the uncertainty of class assignments.

The girl diagonally in front of him wore headphones with the volume turned up high, yet she snuck a glance at her surroundings every half minute. Her hair ends were freshly trimmed, and a niche brand brooch was pinned to her uniform collar. She cared about her image, yet didn't want it to be obvious.

Kira's gaze did not linger on any one person. Observation was a habit, not a hobby. Figuring out who was around him was more reassuring than closing his eyes to rest.

His gaze swept across the aisle and landed on another window seat.

A girl with short black hair sat alone, her hands folded on her lap, the pleats of her skirt perfectly aligned. She didn't look at her phone or speak to anyone; she simply stared at the back of the seat in front of her. Her eyes were focused, but not on anything specific—rather, on some goal known only to her.

Her shoulders were too tense. Her posture was too upright.

From the line of her shoulders, Kira read two words: control. People like this were accustomed to holding everything in their grasp; their grades wouldn't be poor, and they wouldn't panic in a crisis. But once they encountered a situation that didn't follow the rules, they would be more prone to losing their footing than the average person.

He did not continue to watch. The observations within the carriage were sufficient; any more would risk drawing attention to himself.

The sound of the engine gradually faded. Patches of ginkgo trees began to appear outside the window, their crowns trimmed with such precision that the light filtering through the branches fell into the carriage in flickering, rhythmic spots. Some people stretched their necks to look outside, while others began to pack their belongings.

"Is that the Advanced Nurturing High School?"

A voice came from the front, filled with a touch of excitement and a hint of nervousness. The silence in the carriage was broken as people began to pull out their phones to take pictures, discussing the snippets of information they had found online—a 100% advancement rate, a full boarding system, and rumors that they were even given money upon enrollment.

Kira did not move.

He had already read all this information in his enrollment materials. The online discussions were repetitive, offering little of value, consisting mostly of exaggerated rumors and the envy of students from other schools. He had no interest in rumors; he was only interested in the actual rules.

The bus slowly drove into the school gate and passed through a straight avenue. The ginkgo trees on both sides were arranged so perfectly that even the height of their crowns looked as if it had been measured with a ruler. Kira's gaze paused on one of the trees for a second before moving away.

The bus stopped. The new students picked up their luggage one after another to head out. The aisle was crowded with people and backpacks; some were calling for their companions, others were confirming their dormitory numbers. Kira waited until the people in the front had mostly cleared out before standing up, taking his bag down from the luggage rack in a leisurely manner.

The dome of the auditorium was high, and the lighting was a cold white. Someone was handing out information cards at the entrance. Kira took his, his fingertips touching the frosted texture of the card's edge—it was printed with his class and dormitory number.

Class B.

Just as he had expected.

During the entrance exam, he had intentionally simplified the steps for the last two math problems. The answers were correct, but the process would have made the examiner frown. When asked about his strengths and future goals during the interview, he gave a standard, middle-of-the-road answer—not bad, but certainly not brilliant.

Being too far ahead made one a target, while being too far behind could lead to other troubles. The middle position was just right—it allowed him to avoid the extremes while observing everything around him from a decent vantage point.

He slowed his pace as he reached the door to the Class B classroom. Many people were already seated inside; some were exchanging contact information with their new neighbors, some were yawning with their heads on their desks, and others, like him, were sitting quietly in the corners, sizing up their surroundings. The last row by the window was still empty. He walked over, sat down, hung up his bag, and swept his gaze across the classroom.

The sunlight from outside slanted in, falling on the texture of the desk. Scattered footsteps of students from other classes echoed in the hallway; some were laughing, others were complaining about their heavy luggage. These sounds blended together, carrying the unique bustle and anticipation of the first day of school.

A female voice came from beside him.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Kira looked up. A girl with long cherry-pink hair stood in the aisle, her white shirt's ribbon tied perfectly, a smile of just the right degree on her lips. Her eyes were clear, yet not overly direct. Her hands hung naturally at her sides, without any unnecessary fidgeting.

Kira replied, "No one." The girl sat down smoothly, her movements efficient yet composed. She hung her bag on the side of the desk, then turned toward him and extended her hand with grace.

"I'm Honami Ichinose. Please take care of me from now on."

Their fingertips touched briefly. Her hand was soft but firm; she withdrew it politely after the handshake. Kira noted her posture—her spine was straight but not rigid, her hands folded on the desk; it was neither the tension of nervousness nor the sloppiness of carelessness. Everything was just right.

"Yoshikage Kira. Please take care of me as well."

In his mind, he gave his new neighbor her first label: socially adept, tactful, and possessing a natural affinity. People like this usually became the center of the class, but they rarely initiated trouble.

For someone who only wanted to live a stable life, she was the ideal neighbor.

Ichinose took a notebook and a pencil case out of her bag, arranged them neatly, and then looked up to survey the classroom. Her gaze lingered briefly in several directions, as if silently memorizing the faces of her classmates.

"Everyone seems a bit nervous, don't they?" she said softly, her tone light, as if she were chatting about the weather. "After all, it's our first time meeting."

Kira did not respond, but he did not deliberately avoid her either. He simply maintained a moderate silence, neither pandering nor cold.

The front door of the classroom was pushed open again. A figure walked in with a refreshing air—shoulder-length hair, a bright smile, and a light, brisk step. As she entered, the girl waved naturally in several directions; some people responded, clearly having met her in the auditorium or on the school bus. Her movements were graceful and appropriate, and she quickly blended into the classroom atmosphere, surrounded by a few people chatting.

Kira's gaze rested on her for less than a second. Another socially adept one. Such people were never in short supply in any class, but in Class B, they seemed particularly abundant.

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the corner of the desk. The voices in the classroom grew denser; some were discussing dormitory assignments, some were guessing what the first class would be about, and others were already making plans to explore the campus after school. Ichinose was called over by a girl in the front row and was laughing as she answered, her voice soft, like wind chimes in a breeze.

Everything was still within the normal range.

This was good.

He didn't mind spending three years with these people. Compared to the backstabbing and clique-forming he had seen at his previous school, the current atmosphere of Class B could be considered comfortable. As long as this peace could be maintained, he could spend this time in stability.

As for whether this school was hiding something deeper—

No rush.

He had plenty of time to watch and see.