Rivalry Between Leaders

The time pointed to 8:25, and the seats in the classroom were mostly filled.

Katsuragi Kohei stood at the podium, tapping his fingertips twice against the cover of his notebook, his gaze sweeping across the silent classroom: "Regarding the 'strength evaluation rules' mentioned by Mashima yesterday, I would like to hear everyone's thoughts."

A faint rustling sound rose from the room; some students instinctively turned to look at each other, but no one spoke first—after all, this was only the first day of school, and no one dared to make any rash assertions.

Katsuragi waited for a moment, and seeing no response, he adjusted his glasses: "I tried asking upperclassmen yesterday, but they were all tight-lipped. Combined with the school's style of operation, it is clear that a gag order has been issued—it seems we must find the answer to the rules ourselves."

"Perhaps the answer is hidden in plain sight?" The voice of Sakayanagi Arisu suddenly rang out. Her fingertips were resting lightly on the handle of her white cane, her tone flat yet piercing. "When Uesugi Hara and I were in the cafeteria yesterday, I noticed an interesting phenomenon: the cafeteria has windows that require 'no points,' and the students queuing there are mostly thin, with sallow complexions, and even their speech carries a lethargic fatigue—that is a typical manifestation of long-term malnutrition. There are also free goods at the convenience store under the dormitory building."

As soon as she finished speaking, the classroom instantly erupted into chaos.

"How could we be malnourished with 100,000 points a month?"

"Could it be that next month's points won't be 100,000?"

"Mashima only said 'points are deposited monthly'; it's 100,000 this month, but he didn't say it would be the same next month."

Amidst the discussion, someone suddenly gasped—everyone finally realized that Mashima's seemingly clear statement actually contained such a hidden trap.

"Then how many points will we have next month?" someone in the front row couldn't help but ask.

Katsuragi Kohei took over: "I have asked students from other classes; currently, every class has 1,000 class points. Based on existing information, class points may be the core standard for measuring a class's strength."

"But every class has the same number of points." Another person raised a question.

Sakayanagi Arisu spoke at the right moment, her voice clear yet carrying an unquestionable certainty: "Being the same this month does not mean it will be the same next month. I discussed this with Uesugi Hara; individual points are likely equal to class points multiplied by 100. Those malnourished students must come from lower-ranked classes—their class points have likely already fallen below the baseline." She paused, her fingertip tapping lightly on the desk, "Therefore, what we must do right now is to avoid having our class points deducted."

"Mashima did not mention the deduction rules, which means these are the school's default terms," Katsuragi Kohei added. "As students, the safest course of action is to regulate our daily behavior and meet the standard of 'normal students'."

"I agree with Classmate Katsuragi's judgment." Totsuka Yahiko suddenly stood up, his gaze sincere. "In order to clarify the class code of conduct, I nominate Classmate Katsuragi to serve as the class leader."

As soon as he finished speaking, someone immediately retorted: "Classmate Sakayanagi's analysis is equally precise, and in terms of ability, she is by no means inferior to Classmate Katsuragi—why can't Classmate Sakayanagi lead?"

This remark was like a second stone thrown into the water; the just-subsided discussion surged again. Some looked at the steady and composed Katsuragi, others at the calmly smiling Sakayanagi. The air in the classroom suddenly became subtle—the class meeting, originally intended to explore the rules, had unknowingly become a latent contest for leadership.

"Classmate Uesugi, what do you think?"

The sudden voice was like a needle, piercing through the sticky discussion in the classroom. Everyone's gaze shifted at once, falling densely upon Uesugi Hara—some with curiosity, some with probing, and some with the mockery of those watching a show.

Uesugi Hara had just drafted a "too close to call" argument in his mind for both sides. Being pushed into the spotlight so abruptly, his fingers holding the pen paused, and the expression on his face stiffened visibly for half a second.

What do I think? he cursed inwardly. I'm not some famous detective; of course I'm sitting here watching, using my eyes to look.

On the surface, he could only pull at the corners of his mouth and set his pen on his textbook: "Both of your analyses make sense. Classmate Katsuragi is steady and reliable, and Classmate Sakayanagi is insightful—but isn't it a bit too early to discuss leadership?" He deliberately avoided taking a direct stance. "Instead of this, why not figure out how to protect our class points first? If the points drop next month, even the best leader will be useless."

"Besides, I think it's better to postpone the election." Uesugi Hara raised his eyes to scan the whole class, his tone calm but reasonable. "Class competition will likely start next month. This month is a good time to observe—to see what Classmate Katsuragi and Classmate Sakayanagi can each do for the class, and whether their abilities are truly suitable for leading. Wouldn't it be safer to choose then?"

This wasn't a brilliant move, but it precisely hit everyone's weak spot. The gazes focused on him loosened. Some began to lower their heads to whisper to their seatmates about what they should do, while others instinctively looked at Katsuragi and Sakayanagi, as if weighing the proposal in their minds.

Uesugi Hara quietly let out a sigh of relief. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Sakayanagi Arisu tilting her head. The handle of her cane turned half a circle in her fingertips, and her silver-white hair hung by her ear, obscuring half her face—but the slightly curved corners of her mouth seemed to be saying: You're quite something.

Katsuragi Kohei scanned the class once more and spoke in a steady tone: "Classmate Uesugi's proposal is very reasonable. Let's make 'protecting class points' our primary goal this month and demonstrate our abilities through our actions." He paused, tapping his fingertips twice on the edge of his notebook. "During this period, I hope everyone will fulfill their duties as students and regulate their daily behavior—this is currently the safest way to protect ourselves."

"I have no objections." Sakayanagi Arisu's voice rang out at the right time, carrying a faint smile. "Since this is a consensus, let's proceed in this direction. I also hope that next month we can produce sufficiently convincing results, whether it's points or something else." As she spoke, her fingertips rested lightly on her cane, and her gaze flickered toward Uesugi Hara's direction as if by accident, before quickly withdrawing.

The two responses, one steady and one gentle, tacitly pressed the pause button on this latent contest. The atmosphere in the classroom relaxed completely; some began to tidy their desks, others lowered their heads to discuss what to look out for regarding "regulating behavior"—the once tense class meeting had finally settled back onto the most practical footing: "protecting points."

The first period was mathematics. The teacher on the podium recited function formulas according to the rhythm of the textbook, his tone as steady as a flat line without ups and downs; even the sound of the wind occasionally sweeping past the window was more refreshing than the activity in the classroom.

Uesugi Hara propped his chin up, his pen tip hovering over his notebook. Instead of copying the example problems, he wrote the words "Individual Point Earning Plan" on a blank page. He twirled his pen, thought for a moment, and added "competitions" and "part-time jobs"... his pen tip paused, then crossed out "part-time jobs."

The explanation of functions on the podium continued, but his attention had long since drifted outside the textbook. His fingertips tapped on the paper, and he was already calculating where he should go to scout out the area after school.