Kikyo's Friendly Gesture

The arguing in Class D died away abruptly, like a snapped string, fading into the classroom air.

Caught between waves of objections and justifications, Chabashira-sensei furrowed her brow into a deep frown. The lesson she had prepared had been thrown into disarray.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. The minute hand had already passed the mark for the end-of-class bell, so she could only close her lesson plan and say calmly, "Since we can't reach a consensus, that's all for today. If there are any updates to the assessment rules, you'll be notified separately."

As soon as she finished speaking, discussion rose again around the classroom. Someone thumped the desk in frustration, while others lowered their voices to trade suspicions with their neighbors. Amid the commotion, Chabashira-sensei hurried out, her retreating figure seeming somewhat flustered.

With Chabashira-sensei gone, the first-year students seemed to break free from some invisible restraint, instantly splitting into several smaller groups, each acting on its own.

The hallway quickly grew lively, footsteps and conversation blending into a din.

A few impatient boys headed straight for the upper-year bulletin board. Their fingers skimmed rapidly over the densely packed rankings as they tried to find clues among the unfamiliar names and numbers to confirm their suspicions;

The girls, meanwhile, preferred to make discreet inquiries. They gathered in twos and threes by the stairs or in corners of the hallway, exchanging snippets they had heard from older students in hushed voices. Some looked nervous, while others' eyes glimmered with excitement.

The tumultuous effort to verify the rules, sparked by Class D, was like a stone tossed into a still lake. Its ripples quickly spread throughout the entire first year, even reaching the school administration on the top floor of the academic building.

As the one who had set all this in motion, Kengo Tendo had just returned to his seat and started organizing his textbooks when the student handbook in his pocket vibrated. A brief notification appeared on the screen: "Proceed to the chairman's office immediately."

He raised an eyebrow, showing no surprise at all, as if he had expected this. He put away the handbook and rose amid the curious, scrutinizing gazes of his classmates. Then he walked out of the classroom at an unhurried pace, leaving behind a room full of whispers.

The chairman's office was on the top floor of the academic building. At the end of the hallway stood a heavy, solemn wooden door, unlike the doors of the other classrooms.

Kengo raised a hand and pushed it open. The door hinges gave a low creak, breaking the quiet of the hallway.

The office was softly lit. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows lay a sweeping view of the campus, while sunlight filtered through the blinds and cast dappled shadows across the floor.

The middle-aged man who had appeared at the opening ceremony sat behind a large desk. He was Chairman Sakayanagi. Around forty years old, he wore a well-tailored dark suit, and his hair was perfectly groomed. His expression was as mild as a friendly neighbor's, yet he exuded the unmistakable pressure of someone long accustomed to being in a position of authority.

"Have a seat. There's no need to be nervous," Chairman Sakayanagi said first. His tone was casually warm, as if chatting with a younger relative, and deftly dispelled the initial silence.

Kengo walked over and sat in the chair opposite the desk, his back straight and his manner composed. Skipping the unnecessary pleasantries, he met Chairman Sakayanagi's gaze and got straight to the point. "You wanted to see me about the entrance assessment, right?"

Chairman Sakayanagi's smile deepened slightly. He nodded slowly, his undisguised curiosity fixed on Kengo as if he were examining a rare treasure. "In the more than ten years since this school was founded, you're the first student to grasp the core of the assessment before the end of your first week—and then make it public of your own accord. To be honest, I'm quite curious about you."

His fingertips tapped lightly on the desk, slow and rhythmic, as if he were thinking something over. Kengo's gaze happened to fall on the file spread open at the corner of the desk. It was his personal record. Its ratings were clearly visible: academic ability C, physical ability D, judgment A, social skills C, social contribution B. The rest was a detailed account of his life, from awards in elementary school to community service in junior high. The school had clearly investigated every detail.

Kengo looked away and lightly tapped the desk with his fingertips, matching Chairman Sakayanagi's rhythm. A hint of amusement entered his casual tone. "So the school's admissions aren't based entirely on entrance exams. The so-called selection process is just a formality, and the students are chosen in advance, aren't they? Let me guess: this school, which claims to 'cultivate top talent,' is actually conducting some kind of special social experiment?"

Chairman Sakayanagi's smile remained unchanged. He neither denied nor argued with the suggestion, but nodded openly and went straight to the heart of the matter. "Your insight really is sharp.

"My family has always believed that you can't grow a towering tree in a greenhouse. Only by placing students in an environment of extreme social competition, making them learn to survive and understand strategy under pressure and challenge, can we cultivate truly outstanding talent for Japan. That was the original purpose behind founding the Advanced Nurturing High School."

He changed the subject and took a black card from his desk drawer. Its surface had a faint sheen, and delicate patterns lined its edges, giving it an elegant appearance.

He gently slid it over to Kengo, his tone sincere. "You're the most unusual student I've ever met. I think you can bring this school a different kind of change. This one million points is a reward from the school, and a small show of support."

Kengo raised an eyebrow and looked down at the black card. His fingertips rested on its edge, tapping lightly and producing a crisp sound. His tone held a note of probing curiosity. "Aren't you worried that my actions will disrupt the school's plans and create an additional financial burden? After all, once the rules become widely known, designing future assessments will probably take a lot more effort."

"The school doesn't care about such a small amount of money." Chairman Sakayanagi waved a hand, his tone unconcerned, as if the matter meant nothing to him. "Updating the rules is part of the experiment. Only when there are variables can we see more authentic results. Feel free to act as you see fit. The school won't interfere too much."

"In that case, I won't take up any more of your time." Kengo nodded in acknowledgment and casually picked up the black card from the desk. As he rose, his movements were brisk and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.

He turned and walked straight to the door. The heavy wooden door closed softly behind him with a faint click, shutting away the office's quiet stillness from the bustle outside.

On his way back to the classroom, quite a few students gave Kengo curious or scrutinizing looks. Some tried to approach him, but the cool reserve about him put them off.

When he entered the Class D classroom, the noise noticeably diminished. Everyone's eyes turned toward him as one, filled with curiosity, respect, and a hint of barely perceptible wariness.

Kengo paid it no mind and walked straight to his seat. The moment he sat down, Horikita Suzune sprang to her feet and stepped directly in front of him.

Horikita Suzune was tall, dressed in a neat school uniform, with her long black hair tied in a ponytail. Her gaze was sharp and stubborn, like a small beast that refused to admit defeat easily.

"Can I help you?" Kengo looked up and met her eyes calmly, his voice giving away no emotion.

"Do you know why I was assigned to this class?" Horikita Suzune asked bluntly, her tone carrying a suppressed urgency. Her hands unconsciously clenched the hem of her uniform. She thought highly of herself, and her academic and athletic abilities far surpassed those of her peers. She simply couldn't accept being placed in the worst class, Class D.

"Hm?" Kengo tilted his head, looking slightly confused. "Shouldn't you ask Chabashira-sensei? She's our homeroom teacher and is responsible for assigning students to classes. Why are you asking me? I don't work for the school."

"I already filed a complaint with Chabashira-sensei." Horikita Suzune's voice rose, carrying a trace of frustration and anger that she could barely conceal. "She wouldn't tell me. She only vaguely said that you know something. Tell me what's going on!"

Her gaze grew even more stubborn, as if she had decided Kengo could give her an answer. Kengo frowned slightly, looking at her tense expression. A hint of amusement crept into his tone. "Is that how you ask someone for help? You're rude, and you're acting like you're giving orders. If you were in my shoes, would you answer?"

"What are you two talking about?" A sweet, gentle voice cut in just then.

Kikyo Kushida wore her trademark bright smile as she hurried over. A pink headband held back her hair, and her gentle gaze and friendly presence were like a ray of warm sunlight, instantly easing the tension between the two.

"Nothing." Kengo looked away and answered casually. "Horikita wanted to ask about the class assignment system. She probably isn't happy with her placement."

"This is between Tendo and me. Outsiders don't need to get involved," Horikita Suzune said coldly, making no effort to hide her rejection. She had never liked Kikyo Kushida's overly enthusiastic personality or her constant attempts to get along with everyone. She thought it was too fake.

Kikyo Kushida's smile froze for an instant, then quickly returned to normal, though a trace of disappointment passed through her eyes.

Kengo noticed it all and curved his lips in a knowing smile as he looked at Horikita Suzune. "But I wasn't planning to tell you. You haven't offered me anything, and you haven't even managed to ask properly. Why should I give you the answer for nothing?"

Horikita Suzune pressed her lips together, seeming to struggle to keep her temper in check. After a moment's thought and a quick weighing of her options, she asked directly, "What do you want? Anything I can do is open for discussion."

Her tone still wasn't friendly, but she had reined it in somewhat. "I haven't decided," Kengo replied, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk as he considered it. Then he changed tack. "Actually, let's make it a promise instead. One day, I may need your help with something. As long as it doesn't go against your principles, you'll have to agree."

"Fine." Horikita Suzune agreed almost without hesitation.

To her, learning the truth about her class assignment mattered far more than some vague "promise." Besides, she believed her principles wouldn't easily be compromised. Kengo nodded with satisfaction and began to explain. "Our school's class assignments are linked to a rating system. There are six core criteria: academic ability, physical ability, judgment, social skills, social contribution, and past experience."

These six scores together determine your starting class. Class A is the best, while Class D is the worst." He paused, his gaze settling on Horikita Suzune's tense face. "I don't know your specific scores, but given your personality, your social skills score probably dragged you down.

"You're too isolated, you don't know how to work with others, and you aren't flexible. This school places great importance on students' social skills." "If you want to see your detailed personal file, there's a way," Kengo continued. "The school offers a service where you can check your individual scores, but you have to pay points for it.

"I'm not sure how many points it costs. You could ask Chabashira-sensei. She should know the rules." When she heard the words "social skills" and "personal file," Kikyo Kushida's expression darkened almost imperceptibly for a moment, and a complicated emotion flickered in her eyes too quickly to catch.

Then she quickly returned to her usual gentle, sweet demeanor, a pleasant smile on her lips as if nothing unusual had happened. "Horikita," Kikyo Kushida said, turning to her, her tone still gentle and her eyes sincere. "I don't know why you care so much about your class assignment, but having one more friend means having one more option.

"Could we exchange contact information? If you ever need help with your studies or anything else, I'll do my best to help." "You're so annoying," Horikita Suzune said, frowning impatiently as she rejected her outright. "Didn't I already tell you I don't want to?

"I don't need your help, and I have no reason to be your friend." Her manner was blunt and unyielding, showing no consideration for Kikyo Kushida's feelings. "Sure, give us your contact information," Kengo said suddenly, his tone leaving little room for refusal. "Call it payment for the favor just now. I gave you the key information, after all. Asking for your contact information isn't unreasonable, is it?"

Horikita Suzune shot Kengo a scornful glance, her expression clearly saying, You're such a pain.

She wasn't willing, but she had already made a promise, and she had indeed gotten useful information from Kengo. In the end, she reluctantly took out her phone and sent a friend request to both Kengo and Kikyo Kushida. "Kushida, consider this a return favor for your help earlier."

After accepting the friend request, Kengo turned to Kikyo Kushida and said quietly.

He was referring to when Kikyo Kushida had discreetly helped him during their discussion of the assessment rules, deflecting several pointed questions. "Thank you, Tendo~" Kikyo Kushida's eyes curved as she smiled, revealing a pair of shallow dimples. With a hopeful look, she asked, "Then could I have your contact information too? We could talk more in the future. Maybe we'll become good friends."

"Do you have a habit of collecting people's contact information, Kushida?" Kengo raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing. "I don't mind giving you mine, but a handsome, smart guy like me doesn't give out his contact information for free."

"Then you can ask me for a little favor~" Kikyo Kushida replied with a smile, her tone still gentle and sweet, with a hint of playfulness. "As long as it's not too much, I can agree to it. I'd be happy to help you organize your notes or spread the word about something in class."

Kengo looked at her flawless smile, then suddenly dropped his joking demeanor. His voice turned serious. "You don't like her, and she doesn't like you either. So why are you so determined to be her friend?"

His gaze was as sharp as a knife, aimed straight at Kikyo Kushida as if it could see right through her. Her smile stiffened for a moment, as though she hadn't expected Kengo to ask that so suddenly.

She paused, then returned to her gentle expression, her voice carrying a note of hopeful longing. "What do you mean? I just want to be friends with everyone. It's my dream.

"I hope I can get along with every single person in the class and create a warm, close-knit atmosphere. Then everyone can be happier with their studies and their lives." "That dream might be a little difficult to achieve," Kengo said, shaking his head. A trace of mockery was barely audible in his voice. "It's impossible for everyone in the world to like you. People are complicated.

"You don't even know whether the person talking to you is wearing a mask, or what they might be thinking behind your back. Trying to please everyone will only leave you exhausted, and might even bring trouble down on you."

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

Her smile faded a little, and a complex emotion flashed in her eyes: surprise, resentment, and a trace of panic at being seen through.

But only for an instant. She soon returned to her usual self and gently shook her head. "You're too pessimistic, Tendo~ I believe that if I treat others sincerely, they'll treat me sincerely too. Even if it's difficult, I'll keep trying."

Kengo didn't argue. He simply gave her a meaningful look, then turned away and said no more.

The classroom noise gradually returned. Sunlight fell through the windows onto the three of them. The surface seemed calm, but currents were quietly stirring beneath it.

Horikita Suzune clenched her phone, planning how to use points to check her scores; Kikyo Kushida wore a gentle smile, but her eyes concealed thoughts no one knew; and Kengo leaned back in his chair, gazing out the window, his thoughts unreadable.