A Bus Bound for a School Ruled by Rules

The late-August sunlight filtered through the bus window and fell across his knees, its warmth softened to a gentle heat.

Yoshikage Kira sat alone by the window on the school bus, his sleeves neatly folded to mid-forearm. He didn't look outside or at his phone. He simply sat in silence.

The boy in front of him kept rubbing the strap of his backpack. The movement was slight, but too frequent. The corner of a reference book stuck out of the side pocket, its spine marked with the crest of a prestigious school. A top student, nervous. The reason wasn't hard to guess: a new school, new classmates, and an unknown class assignment.

The girl diagonally ahead wore headphones, the volume turned up high, but every half minute she stole a glance around. The ends of her hair had been freshly trimmed, and a pin from a niche brand adorned her uniform collar. She cared about her appearance but didn't want anyone to notice.

Kira's gaze never lingered on anyone for long. Observation was a habit, not a hobby. Knowing what sort of people were around him put him more at ease than closing his eyes for a nap.

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

A girl with short black hair sat alone, her hands folded in her lap and the pleats of her skirt perfectly neat. She wasn't looking at her phone or talking to anyone. She was simply staring at the seatback in front of her. Her gaze was focused, but not on anything specific—rather, on some goal only she knew.

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

Kira read two words in the line of her shoulders: control. People like her were used to keeping everything in hand. They got good grades and didn't panic when trouble arose. But when faced with something that didn't follow the rules, they were more likely than ordinary people to lose their composure.

He didn't keep watching. He'd observed enough of the bus already. Any more and he'd attract attention.

The engine gradually grew quieter. Ginkgo trees appeared in rows outside, their canopies trimmed with perfect precision. Light filtered through the branches and dappled the bus interior, brightening and dimming. Some passengers craned their necks to look out, while others began gathering their belongings.

"Is that Advanced Nurturing High School?"

A voice came from the front, full of excitement and nerves. The quiet in the bus broke. One after another, students took out their phones to snap pictures, while others discussed the bits and pieces they'd found online—its hundred-percent advancement rate, its full boarding system, and the rumor that students received money upon enrollment.

Kira didn't move.

He'd already read all that in the enrollment materials. Online discussions went over the same few points again and again. There wasn't much useful information—mostly exaggerated rumors and jealousy from students at other schools. He had no interest in rumors. He was interested only in the rules as they really were.

The bus rolled through the school gates and down a straight avenue. The ginkgo trees on either side were arranged with unnerving precision, even their canopies seeming measured with a ruler. Kira's gaze paused on one tree for a second, then moved on.

The bus stopped. The new students began carrying their luggage off. The aisle filled with people and backpacks; some called out to their friends, while others checked their dorm numbers. Kira waited until most of the people in front had left before standing. Unhurried, he took his bag down from the rack.

The auditorium's dome soared high above, lit by cool white lights. Information cards were being handed out at the entrance. Kira took his, his fingertips brushing its matte edge. His class and dorm numbers were printed on it.

Class B.

Just as he'd expected.

During the entrance exam, he'd deliberately written out the steps for the last two math problems too briefly. His answers were correct, but the work would make the grader frown. When asked about his strengths and future goals in the interview, he'd given a middling answer—not bad, but nothing that stood out.

Too high a ranking invited scrutiny; too low, and he might run into other problems. Somewhere in the middle was just right: far from either extreme and well positioned to observe everything around him.

He slowed as he reached the door to the Class B classroom. Quite a few students were already seated inside. Some were exchanging contact information with their new desk mates, some were lying on their desks and yawning, and others, like him, sat quietly in a corner, sizing up the room. The last seat by the window was still empty. He went over and sat down, hung his backpack up, and surveyed the classroom.

Sunlight slanted in through the window and fell across the grain of the desks. Scattered footsteps came from other classes in the hallway. Someone laughed, and someone complained about how heavy their luggage was. The sounds mingled together, carrying the bustle and anticipation unique to the first day of school.

A girl's voice came from beside him.

"Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?"

Kira looked up. A girl with cherry-pink hair stood in the aisle, her blouse's bow tie neatly fastened and a just-right smile on her lips. Her eyes were clear but not direct. Her hands hung naturally at her sides, without any fidgeting.

"No one," Kira replied. The girl took the seat, moving with brisk ease. She hung her bag on the side of the desk, then turned toward him and held out her hand with an open, graceful smile.

"My name's Honami Ichinose. I look forward to getting along with you."

Their fingertips touched briefly. Her hand was soft but firm, and she politely withdrew it as soon as they'd shaken hands. Kira noted her posture: her back was straight but not stiff, and her hands were folded on the desk. She was neither nervously rigid nor carelessly casual. Everything about her was just right.

"Yoshikage Kira. I look forward to it."

He mentally tagged the classmate who'd chosen to sit beside him: sociable, considerate, naturally warm. People like her usually became the center of the class over time, but didn't go out of their way to cause trouble.

For someone who only wanted a peaceful life, she was the ideal desk mate.

Ichinose took a notebook and pencil case from her bag and arranged them neatly, then looked around the classroom. Her gaze lingered briefly in a few directions, as if silently committing her classmates' faces to memory.

"Everyone seems a little nervous," she said quietly, her tone easy, as if they were chatting about the weather. "It's only natural, since we're all meeting for the first time."

Kira didn't respond, but he didn't deliberately avoid her, either. He simply maintained a measured silence, neither ingratiating nor cold.

The classroom's front door opened again. A girl entered with a refreshing air about her—shoulder-length hair, a bright smile, and a light step. As she came in, she waved naturally to people in several directions. Some waved back, apparently having already met her in the auditorium or on the bus. Her manner was open and graceful, and she soon blended into the classroom atmosphere, surrounded by a few people making small talk.

Kira's gaze rested on her for less than a second. Another sociable one. There was no shortage of people like that in any class, but Class B seemed to have especially many.

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of the desk. The voices in the classroom grew denser. Some students were discussing the dorm assignments, others speculated about what the first lesson would be, and a few were already making plans to explore the campus after school. A girl in the front row called Ichinose over, and she smiled as she answered, her soft voice like wind chimes stirred by a breeze.

Everything was still within the bounds of normal.

That was good.

He didn't mind spending three years with these people. Compared with the scheming and cliques he'd seen at his previous school, Class B's atmosphere was already quite comfortable. As long as the peace lasted, he could get through his time here without trouble.

As for whether this school was hiding something deeper—

There was no rush.

He had plenty of time to watch and see.