Kikyo's Overture

The arguments in Class D dissipated abruptly, like a snapped string, vanishing into the classroom air.

Caught between the waves of questioning and defense, Chabashira-sensei's brows knit into a deep furrow, her prepared lesson plan thoroughly shredded by the chaos.

She glanced at the wall clock; the minute hand had already swept past the start of the break. With no other choice, she closed her teaching materials and said in a calm voice, "Since a consensus cannot be reached, we will end today's class here. Regarding the assessment rules, any further updates will be notified accordingly."

Before her voice had even faded, the murmurs in the classroom rose again. Some students pounded their desks in frustration, while others lowered their voices to exchange speculations with their neighbors. Amidst this clamor, Chabashira-sensei walked quickly out of the classroom, her retreating figure appearing somewhat disheveled.

With her departure, the first-year students seemed to break free from invisible shackles, instantly splintering into small groups, each fighting their own battles.

The hallway suddenly became lively, with footsteps and conversations weaving into a cacophony.

A few impatient boys rushed toward the upperclassmen's bulletin board, their fingertips sliding rapidly across the dense ranking lists, attempting to find clues to verify their conjectures among the unfamiliar names and numbers.

The girls preferred to inquire in private, gathering in twos and threes in stairwells or corners of the hallway, lowering their voices to exchange fragments of information heard from seniors. Some looked nervous, while others had eyes shimmering with excitement.

This grand rule-verification movement, sparked by Class D, was like a stone thrown into a calm lake; the ripples spread rapidly throughout the entire first year, even alarming the school administration located on the top floor of the building.

As the instigator of all this, Kengo Tendo had just returned to his seat to organize his textbooks when the student manual in his pocket vibrated. A concise notification popped up on the screen: "Proceed to the Chairman's office immediately."

He raised an eyebrow, his face devoid of any surprise, as if he had long anticipated this moment. Putting away the manual, he stood up amidst the curious and probing gazes of his classmates and walked out of the classroom with a composed gait, leaving a room full of whispers behind.

The Chairman's office was located on the top floor of the school building. The wooden door at the end of the hallway was heavy and solemn, distinct from the doors of the other classrooms.

Tendo reached out and pushed the wooden door open. The hinges emitted a low "creak," breaking the silence of the corridor.

The office was softly lit, with an expansive view of the campus visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sunlight spilled through the blinds onto the floor, creating mottled patterns of light and shadow.

The middle-aged man who had appeared at the entrance ceremony was sitting upright behind a large desk—Chairman Sakayanagi. He was around forty years old, dressed in a well-tailored dark suit, his hair meticulously groomed. His expression was as gentle as a neighborly uncle, yet he exuded the unique, formidable pressure of someone who had long held a position of power.

"Sit down, no need to be nervous," Chairman Sakayanagi spoke first, his tone carrying a casual friendliness, as if chatting with a junior, skillfully breaking the initial silence of the room.

Tendo walked to the chair opposite the desk and sat down without being humble or pushy, his back straight, showing no signs of awkwardness. He skipped the unnecessary pleasantries, looked directly at Chairman Sakayanagi, and got straight to the point: "You called for me, presumably regarding the entrance assessment?"

The smile on Chairman Sakayanagi's face deepened slightly. He nodded slowly, his eyes filled with undisguised curiosity, as if examining a rare treasure: "In the ten-plus years since this school was founded, you are the first student to have seen through the core of the assessment within a week of enrollment and taken the initiative to make it public. To be honest, I am indeed very curious about you."

His fingertips tapped the desk rhythmically and slowly, as if he were contemplating something. Tendo's gaze inadvertently swept over a document spread out on the corner of the desk; it was his personal file. The ratings on the paper were clear and striking: Academic Ability C, Physical Ability D, Judgment A, Social Skills C, Social Contribution B. The rest consisted of his scattered records from childhood to the present, from elementary school awards to middle school social practice—everything was detailed, clearly indicating that the school had investigated him thoroughly.

He withdrew his gaze and tapped his own fingertips on the desk in a rhythm similar to the Chairman's, his tone carrying a touch of casual playfulness: "It seems the school's admissions are not entirely based on entrance exams. The so-called selection is just a formality; the candidates were likely pre-determined, right? Let me guess: this school, which claims to 'nurture top-tier talent,' is actually conducting some kind of special social experiment?"

The smile on Chairman Sakayanagi's face remained unchanged. He neither denied nor defended himself, but instead nodded frankly, cutting straight to the core: "Your insight is indeed sharp."

"My family has always believed that towering trees cannot grow in a greenhouse. Only by placing students in an extreme model of social competition, allowing them to learn to survive and understand strategy under pressure and challenge, can we cultivate true top-tier talent for Japan—this is the original intention behind founding this Advanced Nurturing High School."

He shifted the topic, taking a black card from the desk drawer. The surface of the card shimmered with a faint luster, its edges inlaid with fine patterns, looking quite exquisite.

He pushed the card gently toward Tendo, his tone sincere: "You are the most special student I have ever met, and I believe you can bring about a different kind of change to this school. This one million points is a reward from the school, and also a small token of support."

Tendo raised an eyebrow, his gaze falling on the black card. He tapped his fingertips on the edge of the card, making a crisp sound, his tone sounding somewhat probing: "Are you not worried that my actions will disrupt the school's plans and cause additional financial burden? After all, once the rules are widely known, the subsequent assessment designs will likely require much more effort."

"The school doesn't care about such a trivial amount of money," Chairman Sakayanagi waved his hand, his tone light and airy, clearly not taking the matter to heart. "The iteration of rules is part of the experiment itself. Only with variables can we see more authentic results. You may proceed according to your own ideas; the school will not interfere too much."

"In that case, this student will not disturb you further." Tendo nodded in acknowledgment, picked up the black card from the table, and stood up with decisive, fluid motions, without a hint of hesitation.

He turned and walked straight toward the door. The heavy wooden door closed gently behind him with a soft "click," completely isolating the quiet stillness of the office from the clamor of the outside world.

On the way back to the classroom, many students cast curious or probing gazes at Tendo. Some tried to approach him to talk, but were discouraged by the faint sense of aloofness he exuded.

When he entered the Class D classroom, the noise level dropped significantly. Everyone's eyes were focused on him in unison, filled with curiosity, awe, and a hint of imperceptible wariness.

Tendo paid no mind to this and walked straight to his seat. As soon as he sat down, Horikita Suzune, who was sitting next to him, stood up with a "swish" and blocked his path.

Horikita Suzune was tall, wearing a neat school uniform, her long black hair tied into a ponytail. Her eyes were sharp and stubborn, like a young beast unwilling to admit defeat easily.

"Something the matter?" Tendo raised his eyes, meeting her gaze calmly, his tone so flat that no emotion could be detected.

"Do you know why I was assigned to this class?" Horikita Suzune did not beat around the bush, questioning him directly. Her tone carried a hint of suppressed urgency, and her hands were unconsciously clenched at the corners of her clothes—she held herself in high regard, far exceeding her peers in both academics and sports, and simply could not accept being assigned to the worst class, Class D.

"Hmm?" Tendo showed a hint of confusion, tilted his head, his tone full of bewilderment. "You should be asking Chabashira-sensei that question. She is our homeroom teacher and is responsible for class assignments. Why come to me? I'm not a member of the school staff."

"I have already complained to Chabashira-sensei," Horikita Suzune's voice rose slightly, carrying a trace of imperceptible grievance and anger. "She refused to say, only telling me vaguely that you know something. Tell me quickly, what is going on!"

Her gaze grew increasingly stubborn, as if she had decided that Tendo could give her the answer. Tendo frowned slightly, his gaze falling on her tense face, his tone becoming a bit more playful: "Is this the attitude you use when asking for a favor? Neither polite nor respectful, and using a tone of command. If it were you, would you be willing to answer?"

"What are you two discussing?" Just then, a gentle and sweet voice intervened.

Kikyo Kushida had her signature bright smile on her face as she hurried over. She wore a pink hairband, her eyes were gentle, and she radiated an approachable aura, like a ray of warm sunshine, instantly easing the tense atmosphere between the two.

"Nothing," Tendo withdrew his gaze and spoke lightly, explaining casually, "Horikita-san just wanted to ask about the class assignment system. She's probably not very satisfied with her placement."

"This is a matter between Tendo-kun and me. Outsiders don't need to interfere," Horikita Suzune said coldly, without any courtesy, her eyes showing clear rejection—she had never liked Kushida's overly enthusiastic personality, which always sought to get along with everyone, finding it too hypocritical.

The smile on Kushida's face stiffened for a moment, then quickly returned to normal, though a trace of imperceptible disappointment flashed in the depths of her eyes.

Tendo saw all of this, a meaningful curve appearing at the corner of his mouth as he looked at Horikita Suzune: "But I have no intention of telling you. You aren't willing to give me any benefits, and you don't have a proper attitude. Why should I give you the answer for nothing?"

Horikita Suzune bit her lip, seemingly trying hard to suppress her temper. After a moment of silence, weighing the pros and cons, she asked directly: "What do you want? As long as it's something I can do, it can be discussed."

Her tone was still not friendly, but she had restrained herself significantly. "I haven't thought about it yet," Tendo mused, shaking his head, his fingers tapping the desk lightly. Then, he changed the subject: "Forget it, how about a promise from you instead—one day in the future, I might need you to do me a favor. As long as it doesn't violate your principles, you must agree."

"Fine," Horikita Suzune agreed immediately, almost without hesitation.

To her, finding out the truth about the class assignments was far more important than some "promise," and besides, she believed her principles would not be easily broken. Tendo nodded with satisfaction and began to explain slowly: "Our school's class assignment and grading mechanism are linked. There are six core standards: Academic Ability, Physical Ability, Judgment, Social Skills, Social Contribution, and Past Experience."

"These six comprehensive scores determine your initial class. Class A is the best, and Class D is the worst." He paused, his gaze falling on Horikita Suzune's tense face. "I don't know your specific scores, but judging by your personality, your Social Skills score is likely what held you back."

"You are too aloof, not good at cooperating with others, and don't know how to be flexible, and this school happens to value a student's social nature very highly." "As for wanting to know the detailed personal data, it's not impossible," Tendo continued. "The school provides a service to check personal score breakdowns, but it requires points to purchase."

"As for how many points exactly, perhaps you can ask Chabashira-sensei; she should know the relevant rules." Beside them, when Kushida heard the words "Social Skills" and "personal data," her expression darkened imperceptibly for a moment, and a complex emotion flashed in her eyes, too fast to be captured.

In an instant, she reverted to her usual gentle and sweet persona, a perfectly measured smile gracing her lips as if the strange flicker from moments ago had never occurred. "Horikita-san," Kikyo Kushida turned toward Horikita Suzune, her tone remaining soft and her eyes filled with a touch of sincerity, "I don't know why you're so fixated on the class assignments, but having one more friend is just one more path open to you."

"Can we exchange contact information? If you ever need help with your studies or daily life in the future, I will do my absolute best to assist you." "Are you ever going to stop being annoying?" Horikita Suzune furrowed her brows, her tone impatient as she issued a flat refusal. "Didn't I already tell you? I don't want to give it out."

"I don't need your help, and I have no intention of being friends with you." Her attitude was blunt and direct, showing no regard for Kikyo Kushida's face. "Fine, just give us your contact info," Kengo suddenly interjected, his tone carrying an undeniable sense of certainty. "Consider it settling the debt for the favor just now—I gave you the key information, so one contact address isn't asking too much, is it?"

Horikita Suzune cast a look of disdain at Kengo, her eyes clearly conveying the sentiment: You are such a nuisance.

Though reluctant, she remembered the promise she had made and acknowledged that she had indeed received useful information from Kengo. In the end, she begrudgingly pulled out her phone and sent friend requests to both Kengo and Kikyo Kushida. "Kushida-san, consider this my return gift for your help earlier."

After accepting the friend request, Kengo looked toward Kikyo Kushida and said softly.

He was referring to the time during the discussion of the exam rules when Kikyo Kushida had secretly helped him out of a tight spot by diverting several pointed questions. "Thank you, Tendo-kun~" Kikyo Kushida's eyes curved into crescents, revealing a pair of shallow dimples as she asked with a hint of anticipation, "Then, Tendo-kun, could you give me your contact information as well? We can communicate more in the future; who knows, we might even become great friends."

"Does Kushida-san have a hobby of collecting contact info?" Kengo raised an eyebrow, his tone flippant and laced with a playful edge. "It's not that I can't give it to you, but for a guy as handsome and smart as me, contact info isn't something I just hand out for free."

"Then you can make a small request~" Kikyo Kushida replied with a smile, her tone remaining gentle and sweet with a touch of coquetry. "As long as it isn't too much, I can agree to it. Whether it's helping you organize your notes or promoting something for you in class, I'm happy to be of service."

Watching the flawless smile on her face, Kengo suddenly dropped his playful demeanor, his tone turning serious: "You clearly don't like her, and she doesn't like you either. Why are you so obsessed with being friends with her?"

His gaze was sharp as a blade, as if it could pierce through the human heart and strike straight at Kikyo Kushida. The smile on Kikyo Kushida's face stiffened for a moment, as if she hadn't expected Kengo to ask such a question so abruptly.

She paused, then quickly reverted to her gentle persona, her tone filled with a sense of longing: "What do you mean? I just want to be friends with everyone; it's my dream."

"I hope to get along well with every single person in the class and create a united, loving atmosphere so that everyone can be happier in their studies and daily lives." "Then that dream of yours is going to be difficult to manage." Kengo shook his head, a trace of imperceptible mockery in his tone. "There is no such thing as a person liked by everyone in this world; the human heart is the most complex thing there is."

"You don't even know if the person standing in front of you is wearing a mask, or what kind of thoughts they are hiding behind their back. Forcing yourself to please everyone will only leave you exhausted, or worse, cause you to burn yourself."

His words were like a thin needle, gently piercing through the perfect facade that Kikyo Kushida had so carefully maintained.

The smile on her face faded slightly, and a flash of complex emotion crossed her eyes—surprise, resentment, and a flicker of panic at being seen through.

But in just an instant, she returned to her usual self and shook her head lightly: "Tendo-kun is too pessimistic~ I believe that as long as you treat others with sincerity, they will treat you with sincerity in return. Even if the process is a bit difficult, I will keep at it."

Kengo did not argue further; he simply gave her a meaningful look before turning his head away, saying nothing more.

The clamor in the classroom gradually returned, and the sunlight spilled through the windows onto the three of them. Beneath the seemingly calm surface, undercurrents were quietly surging.

Horikita Suzune gripped her phone tightly, calculating how to use her points to check her own evaluation; Kikyo Kushida wore a gentle smile, yet hid thoughts in the depths of her eyes that no one would ever know; and Kengo leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed out the window, lost in thought.