The Same Gaze

Sunlight dispersed the clouds and mist, but Hoshida No did not head toward the student council, instead turning toward the gymnasium for the freshman orientation ceremony.

He raised a hand to press against the phone in his uniform pocket, the figure of 100,000 Personal Points on the screen appearing exceptionally clear.

The image of Sakayanagi Arisu with her cane lingered in his mind. Having been enrolled for barely a few hours, while most freshmen were still marveling at the school's facilities, she had already secured resources far beyond the reach of ordinary people. This was no stroke of luck.

Hoshida No's gaze darkened slightly. The scene of the bus seat offer resurfaced: the man in the suit and sunglasses, the excessive surveillance, and the composed smile Sakayanagi wore when she learned he was in Class 1-D.

These fragments, when pieced together, pointed toward a silhouette that had yet to come into focus.

What was this school plotting?

The information obtained from Sakayanagi was limited, after all. She definitely knew more.

Should I go back and ask? He immediately dismissed the thought. After their brief clash just now, asking again would yield no answers.

Despite the ten-minute walk, Hoshida No's thoughts were racing at high speed.

The flow of people ahead grew denser, and the entrance to the gymnasium was already in sight.

Hoshida No reined in his thoughts, quickening his pace to merge into the crowd.

Upon stepping into the gymnasium, the place was already buzzing with noise.

He followed the signs toward the area designated for Class 1-D. By the time he found the section, most of his classmates had already taken their seats, their faces filled with the curiosity and apprehension typical of freshmen.

Hoshida No sat in a corner in the back row and looked up toward the podium, where the faint sound of equipment being calibrated drifted from behind the dark curtains.

In the various corners of the spectator stands, the students in the Class A section mostly sat with upright posture and confident expressions.

The students of Class B and Class C were whispering in small groups, their occasional glances toward other classes carrying an imperceptible sense of rivalry.

The atmosphere in Class 1-D, however, was relatively loose; some were still marveling at the school's luxurious facilities, while others wore expressions of confusion.

Hoshida No's gaze scanned the crowd rapidly, and he soon caught sight of that familiar silver silhouette.

Sakayanagi Arisu sat in the front row of Class A, her cane leaning against the seat beside her. She was tilting her head to converse with a classmate, a gentle yet distant smile playing on her lips.

Ichinose and Karuizawa were also sitting in the front row of Class B. The two girls were chatting with students around them, and upon noticing Hoshida No, they both waved. Hoshida No responded with a nod.

Just then, the lights in the venue dimmed abruptly, and only the spotlights above the podium illuminated, casting the figure of the Chairman into sharp relief.

The Chairman picked up the microphone, his steady voice carrying through the speakers across the entire venue: "Welcome to Advanced Nurturing High School. Here, only ability determines everything..."

Following this, the student council president, wearing black-rimmed glasses, added his own remarks to the Chairman's words.

After the orientation ceremony concluded, the students returned to their respective classrooms.

Hoshida No followed the flow of people toward the depths of the school building, where the nameplate marked Class 1-D stood out clearly under the lights.

The moment he pushed open the classroom door, a wave of boisterous noise washed over him.

Clearly, the freshmen who had finished the ceremony had already spontaneously formed small groups within the class.

Some were heatedly discussing the meaning of "ability first" from the speeches, others were still marveling at the school's luxury, and some were holding their phones to exchange contact information.

The air was thick with the restlessness and curiosity unique to freshmen.

Hoshida No's gaze swept across the classroom quickly. On the blackboard at the back, "Welcome to Class 1-D" was written in white chalk, with a class roster posted beside it.

His name was among them, with his seat number noted next to it—the second seat from the back in the row by the window.

As he walked to his seat, a gaze was cast from his left.

He looked over accordingly. Sitting by the window was a boy with short brown hair, the strands shimmering with a pale gold hue under the sunlight filtering through the glass.

The boy had his hands spread flat on the desk, his wrists hanging naturally, his posture so relaxed it bordered on lazy.

Those golden-brown eyes looked as if they were veiled in mist, calm and rippleless—a classic pair of dead fish eyes. At this moment, they were fixed on Hoshida No without a hint of emotion.

His first impression was that the boy was a loner.

He did not initiate conversation, simply withdrawing his gaze calmly and sitting down in his own seat.

The wooden chair made a soft sound as it collided with the floor. The boy beside him maintained his original posture, but his gaze did not shift away, remaining in that same indifferent, distant state that made one feel quite uncomfortable.

Hoshida No ignored him, casting his gaze out the window instead to avoid focusing on that stare.

The branches and leaves of the camphor tree swayed gently in the wind, and the light spots cast by the sun through the gaps in the leaves moved slowly across the desk, drawing an invisible boundary against the noisy chatter in the classroom.

"You were looking toward the Class A section."

A flat, rippleless voice suddenly sounded from his left, breaking the silence between them.

Hoshida No turned his head to meet those dead fish eyes. The other boy's expression remained unchanged, as if he were stating something of no consequence.

Hoshida No felt a slight stir in his heart. He had indeed glanced briefly at Sakayanagi Arisu's position while in the gymnasium; he hadn't expected this seemingly lethargic boy to have caught it.

"Just curious," he replied without concealment, his tone equally calm. "There's a very interesting person in Class A."

Before he could finish, a girl's voice came from their right: "Is this seat taken?"

The girl stopped beside the empty seat to Hoshida No's right, her gaze fixed on the chair, her tone crisp and leaving no room for inquiry.

Hoshida No glanced at the expressionless boy on his left, then met the girl's cold, clear gaze.

"Sit," he said flatly.

The girl had no intention of making small talk. She bent down to sit, shoved her backpack into the desk compartment, and took out a copy of Crime and Punishment to open it.

"What," she suddenly raised her eyes, arms crossed over her chest, "are you like that guy on the left, fond of staring at others while they work?"

Her black hair was tied into a high ponytail, with a thin, intricate braid woven along the right side.

Hoshida No did not respond, returning her gaze calmly.

The girl faltered slightly under his steady stare, then tightened her expression and added, "That person next to you, he isn't your brother, is he? Even the way you look at people is identical."

Her words were like pebbles tossed into still air; the nearby students chatting in groups instinctively fell silent, sneaking glances in their direction.

Hoshida No remained silent, turning his head to the left, his tone devoid of emotion:

"Do you two know each other? Or did you provoke her?"

The boy maintained his pose with hands spread open, his eyes ripple-free.

"We took the same bus," he said, his voice flat. "Because of the seat-offering situation, neither of us moved. I was curious if she was an escapist like me, so I looked a bit longer."

"A bit longer?" the girl retorted immediately, pointing a fingertip at him. "You call that a bit longer? You stared straight at me for half a minute, like you were weighing something up. Who knows what you were thinking."

She swept her gaze back to Hoshida No. "And you. You were looking around the gymnasium, and now you're acting all profound right along with him. Are the people at this school all this strange?"

Hoshida No's Adam's apple bobbed, and just as he was about to speak—

The crisp sound of high heels clicking against the floor echoed from the front of the classroom, cutting him off.