Hoshida No turned to look at the classmate he'd barely spoken to in the three days since school started.
Ayanokoji's gaze was calm and emotionless, yet carried an inexplicable sharpness.
A flicker of curiosity crossed Hoshida No's mind. What would this boy, who kept such a low profile, have to say all of a sudden?
He raised an eyebrow slightly and asked in an even tone, "Why do you say that?"
Ayanokoji's gaze swept over the students horsing around in the classroom. Then he raised a hand and pointed at the surveillance camera in the corner of the ceiling.
He laid out his reasoning clearly. "The school gives every student 100,000 points each month. With twenty-five students in a class, that's 2.5 million. There are four classes in each year, for a total of 10 million. Including the upperclassmen, that's 30 million points a month."
He paused. "They invest that much, yet let students sleep in class, play games, and even skip lessons without the teachers stopping them. Don't you think that's strange?"
Hoshida No listened in silence and slowly nodded. His gaze settled on the inconspicuous camera, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.
He picked up the thread. "You mean these freedoms and points aren't being handed out for nothing. The school's real purpose is hidden in all this strange behavior. And those cameras might be there to record how we perform."
Ayanokoji's gaze rested on Hoshida No's slightly raised lashes. As expected of him—he'd grasped the key point without any further explanation.
Ayanokoji offered no more details, only a slight nod, then abruptly changed the subject. "Yesterday afternoon, some upperclassmen cornered Ken Sudō and called him a defective product who couldn't even raise the value of his class."
"A defective product?" Hoshida No repeated quietly, looking at Ken Sudō, who was still sprawled over his desk. "They might not be wrong."
After a moment's silence, he said, "Ayanokoji, want to come with me to the staff room during lunch?"
Ayanokoji lowered his eyes to his intertwined fingertips. A few possibilities crossed his mind, and he agreed.
At lunchtime, Hoshida No knocked on the staff room door.
"Come in." Chabashira-sensei's cool, unmistakable voice came from inside, devoid of any excess emotion.
When they opened the door, Chabashira-sensei was the only one in the staff room, sitting at her desk.
Several class files lay spread across her desk, with a fountain pen resting at an angle beside the papers.
She looked up, glanced over the two of them, and got straight to the point. "Hoshida. Ayanokoji. What do you want to ask?"
Hoshida No met her gaze without flinching. His tone was flat. "Please tell me the school's real rules."
Chabashira-sensei's expression faltered, then quickly returned to normal. "Everything in the student handbook is all the rules there are." Her voice remained cool.
"Chabashira-sensei." Hoshida No leaned forward slightly. His voice dropped, but his certainty only grew. "You know very well that I'm not asking about the rules everyone can see."
He put deliberate emphasis on "everyone can see," fixing his gaze on her and leaving no room for evasion.
Ayanokoji stood quietly to the side, his eyes half-lowered, as if he had no interest in the conversation. Only the faintest shifts of his gaze betrayed how closely he watched every change in Chabashira-sensei's expression.
The corner of Chabashira-sensei's mouth lifted ever so slightly. Her tone remained cool. "Sorry, I can't answer that."
She stopped there, her gaze fixed on Hoshida No's face, waiting to catch his reaction—
Disappointment? Irritation? Shock?
But Hoshida No's expression didn't change in the slightest, as though he'd expected this.
He gave a slight nod, his tone as casual as if they were discussing lunch. "I understand. Then how many points would it take to buy that information?"
At his words, Chabashira-sensei's hand tightened almost imperceptibly around her pen cap.
The air in the office seemed to freeze for a moment. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a sharp line of light and shadow between them.
Even Ayanokoji, standing nearby, showed a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Chabashira-sensei stood and led them into a secluded room.
The room was furnished sparsely, its walls lined with soundproofing foam that swallowed every noise.
She turned around. "No one will disturb us here." After a pause, she added, "I didn't expect you to have figured out that points could be exchanged for information."
Hoshida No surveyed the room. If not for the obvious camera on the wall, he might have believed her.
"I just wanted to test my theory. I wasn't expecting much. Looks like I bet right."
Chabashira-sensei listened in silence, confirming her suspicion. "You went to talk to an upperclassman, didn't you?" She changed tack. "Five hundred thousand Personal Points for one core hidden rule."
Hoshida No didn't so much as furrow his brow. His gaze lowered slightly as he calculated, his tone still even. "Five hundred thousand, for just one rule?"
There was no surprise or anxious haggling, only a weighing of the pros and cons. He still had 795,000 points, more than enough to pay.
Ayanokoji leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, a faint look of understanding in his eyes. Five hundred thousand was an astronomical sum for one person; for the class, it would only be 20,000 per student. He figured Hoshida No would prefer the latter.
He said nothing, quietly watching and waiting for Hoshida No to decide.
Chabashira-sensei studied Hoshida No for a long while. The amusement in her eyes settled into unfathomable calculation.
The idea of reaching Class A had been a thorn in her heart for years. It was an obsession, and a source of regret.
When she'd first seen the chaos in Class D, she'd nearly given up on this year's students. But three people in the corner had shattered her expectations.
After reviewing their files over the past few days, her fingers had tightened: Horikita Suzune reminded her of herself back then—self-centered and poor at cooperating. She had plenty of spirit, but little chance of achieving anything.
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka was even stranger. Every one of his scores sat precisely at the passing mark, like a hunter deliberately concealing his claws.
And Hoshida No had straight A's across the board, so well-rounded it was almost absurd.
Hope had returned. But she knew that no matter how capable Hoshida No was, he couldn't hold up an entire class by himself.
She didn't want an isolated genius. She wanted someone who could become the heart of Class D and bring it together.
She'd calculated that no one could come up with 500,000 points alone. The amount was a test, and a means of binding him to the others.
Only if the whole class shared the burden would Hoshida No have to truly join them and take responsibility for this information and the goal of reaching Class A.
She looked away and lightly tapped the desk with her fingertips. Her tone was as indifferent as ever, though she'd already laid her plans. "What have you decided?"
Hoshida No came out of his thoughts, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "Deal."
Then he added, "I'll ask the question."
Approval flickered in Chabashira-sensei's eyes, and she nodded readily. "All right."
She was about to lead into it when Hoshida No raised his terminal and quickly swiped across the screen.
A soft chime sounded. A notification appeared on her Personal Terminal: points received.
500,000 points. Not a point more or less—the exact amount they'd agreed on.
Chabashira-sensei's pupils narrowed, and she froze.
She'd expected Hoshida No to haggle, suggest splitting the cost across the class, or even back out because he couldn't afford the points.
It had never occurred to her that this boy, who'd only been at the school for three days, could pay such an enormous sum by himself—and do so without the slightest hesitation.
"Chabashira-sensei." Hoshida No's voice brought her back to reality. "The points have gone through. Please tell me the rule."
Chabashira-sensei snapped back to attention, her fingers tightening around her terminal. The shock in her eyes hadn't quite faded, but it was quickly replaced by a deeper curiosity.
Hoshida No was far more extraordinary than she'd imagined.
She suppressed her turbulent thoughts, regained her usual cool demeanor, and looked at him. "Of course. What do you want to ask?"
Ayanokoji's half-lowered eyes lifted fully. He regarded Hoshida No with a newfound interest and scrutiny.
First he'd bought information with points; now he'd paid 500,000 all by himself. His seatmate was much better at hiding his true self than Ayanokoji had expected.
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