The Princess of Class C

On Friday during lunch break, Kanzaki Toru went to the library.

Horikita had sent him the file on Ryuen Kakeru to his terminal last night. Ryuen, Class C, first year. His entrance exam scores were slightly above average, and his physical fitness test results were excellent. He had no disciplinary record for the first month of school, but starting in the second month, he began appearing frequently on the Student Council Disciplinary Committee's watch list. However, every investigation ended in nothing—witnesses would recant their statements, evidence would go missing, and every lead pointing toward him would be severed at the last moment. At the end of the file, Horikita had appended her own assessment: "This person possesses an extremely strong sense of counter-surveillance, and his subordinates show an abnormally high level of loyalty. A power structure with him at its core has already formed within Class C."

After reading it, he deleted the file and leaned back in his chair, lost in thought for a long time. Ryuen's methods were indeed sophisticated. Every blow he struck was precisely calculated, ensuring he never exposed himself easily. But the most critical factor wasn't just his methods; it was the fact that he could make second-year students work for him, which in itself suggested an imbalance. For a first-year student to command second-year students—the buzz-cut and the bald one—he either had leverage over them or possessed something they wanted. Furthermore, it was highly probable that Ryuen had an extremely efficient internal intelligence network—so efficient that it not only covered Class C but also extended into at least a portion of the second-year student body.

This meant that to oppose Ryuen, defense alone would not be enough. He had to establish an information source within Class C.

"Kanzaki-kun?"

He looked up. Kushida Kikyo was standing beside a bookshelf, holding a stack of materials in her arms, tilting her head as she looked at him. The afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, the soft light casting a faint, gentle glow over her entire figure.

"Are you spacing out? That's rare," she said with a smile.

"I was thinking about something."

"What is it? Could it be—" Kushida lowered her voice, her eyes curving into crescents, "—that you're pondering matters regarding Class C? Word has already spread about Ryuen cornering you in the hallway yesterday."

News traveled fast. Ryuen had deliberately chosen the end of a deserted hallway to intercept him, but in this school, if any two people spoke alone in a corridor for more than ten seconds, it would be remembered.

"I was just wondering when the cross-class groups will be announced," he said. "Chabashira said last week that the notice would be posted this week."

"That's true. Cross-class groups—" Kushida shifted the materials to her other arm. "Actually, I've heard that some people on the Class C side have been asking about our class lately. Especially Ryuen... that person is a bit scary. But for someone like Kanzaki-kun, I suppose you don't need to worry about him."

Her words sounded like idle chatter, but when Ryuen's name left her lips, there wasn't a single stutter. It wasn't the first time she had heard the name, nor was it the first time she had discussed him. The suspicion that Kushida Kikyo had some sort of information channel with Class C, once merely a guess, was now essentially confirmed.

"You know Ryuen, too?" he asked.

"Not exactly 'know' him, just heard of him. He's quite famous in Class C." After saying this, Kushida waved at him and walked out of the library with a light step.

He watched her back recede, then sank his consciousness into the Index. Kushida Kikyo's page remained the same—a blurred outline, a flickering tag reading "Boundary between surface and interior to be confirmed," and no favorability rating had ever taken shape. It had been nearly two months since school started; the favorability ratings of other girls had all changed. Sakura had risen from 68 to 70, Horikita from 20 to 42, and Karuizawa from 18 to 35. Only Kushida's remained blank. It wasn't zero; it simply didn't display at all. This wasn't a lack of favorability; it was that she intentionally hid her true emotions in depths that even the Index struggled to penetrate. If a person maintained the same gentle mask for everyone, it would only make it impossible for those who truly needed to get close to her to do so.

He returned the book to the shelf, walked out of the library, and ran into Karuizawa Kei at the entrance of the school building. She wasn't with her usual group today, standing alone in front of a vending machine, her fingers hovering between two buttons, her expression earnestly conflicted.

"Karuizawa."

She turned back, her golden ponytail whipping through the air in an arc. "You're just in time, help me decide—red bean soup or hot cocoa?"

"Last time, you gave me the hot cocoa."

"That was last time. I'm drinking for myself today," she retorted defiantly, then frowned again. "Forget it, the red bean soup is too sweet, and the hot cocoa is too cloying..." Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment, and she suddenly asked, "Where is Sakura-san today?"

"On the track field. Taking photos."

Karuizawa nodded and pressed the button for the red bean soup. "That candy from last time—she left another one on my desk later."

"What candy?"

"Milk candy. Left on the corner of my desk, still no note." Karuizawa unscrewed the can, took a sip of the red bean soup, and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "What exactly is she trying to do?"

"Maybe she thinks the red bean soup is too sweet, so she gave you milk candy to balance it out."

"You—" Karuizawa glared at him, then immediately burst into laughter. A genuine laugh, not a social facade; there were tiny curves at the corners of her eyes. She quickly suppressed the laughter, returned to her usual proud expression, finished the rest of the red bean soup, crushed the can, and tossed it into the recycling bin.

"By the way," she added before leaving, "there's a girl in Class C you should get to know."

"Who?"

"Shiina Hiyori. A librarian in Class C. I've spoken to her a few times when I went to borrow books. Unlike those lackeys in Ryuen's class, she's very quiet, always has a book in her hand, and I've never heard of her getting involved in any class infighting."

Karuizawa left after saying this, her gait light, her blonde hair shimmering in the afternoon sun. Kanzaki Toru stood in front of the vending machine for a moment, then used a coin to buy a can of hot cocoa. Shiina Hiyori. The name had appeared once in Horikita's file—in the corner of the Class C student directory, with almost zero remarks. No disciplinary record, no club conflicts, quiet to the point of being almost detached from the world. But under Ryuen Kakeru's iron-fisted rule, a Class C student with no records at all was a power in itself.

He carried the hot cocoa up to the rooftop and opened the Index. The information provided by Karuizawa triggered a reaction after being captured by the Index—the cold-glowing outline's page edges flipped gently, and a few previously blurred strokes began to slowly take shape. A very clear name was slowly emerging: "Shiina Hiyori." Contact had not yet begun, so favorability could not be displayed. But her attribute bar had already formed its first blurred arc; once a catalyst for contact appeared, this page would officially unfold.

On Saturday afternoon, he met Shiina Hiyori on the second floor of the library.

She was behind the return desk, organizing the day's returned books, head bowed in concentration. Her light chestnut hair hung smoothly down the side of her shoulder, swaying gently with her movements as she leaned over or turned. Unlike most students who wore their uniforms with extra accessories, she wore nothing, save for a small silver bookmark pinned to the left breast pocket of her uniform. Her fingers were fair, the tips stained with a trace of ink from new book covers. Her movements as she flipped through the pages were gentle and focused; every book seemed familiar to her, and she could find the correct shelf location without any effort.

Kanzaki Toru walked over and placed several photography collections on the return desk. He had borrowed these from Sakura's desk on a whim—she had told him he could return them whenever.

Shiina took the books and glanced at the covers, her gaze lingering on the photography collections for a moment. "These are in the borrowing records of Sakura-san from Class D. What is she photographing?"

"Everything. The sky, flowers, high walls. There have been more photos of high walls lately."

Shiina didn't respond, merely nodding gently as she scanned the books into the system, then looked up. Her eyes were light brown, quiet and composed, appearing like a pool of still water beside a stack of heavy tomes.

"You are the same as her," Shiina said. "Looking at something."

"Perhaps."

"But not the wall," she added. "You are looking at something else. Even though, on the surface, you have always chosen to watch from the sidelines."

A person he had never met before, yet she could judge his behavioral patterns in their first conversation. This level of observation was definitely not a spur-of-the-moment thing. Shiina Hiyori's world likely consisted only of books, but she saw more clearly than most people active in the crowd. He neither denied nor admitted it.

"I want to look up a book regarding the evolution of school rules from previous years. Do you have any recommendations?"

"Third row on the left, bottom shelf." Shiina didn't even think, just moved her eyelids, as if she had long anticipated he would ask this. "There is a book from eight years ago, Summary of School System Changes. Records related to class competition start on page thirty-seven. However, the binding of that book is damaged, so it cannot be checked out; you can only read it here."

"Thank you. I can treat you to a coffee another day."

"I don't drink coffee." She sat back down at the sorting desk after saying this, pulling the next stack of books toward her. But her pen tip paused, and she looked up at him. "If it's black tea, that would be fine."

Kanzaki Toru nodded and turned toward the third bookshelf on the left. Their first conversation ended; it wasn't long, but he had exchanged it for important clues regarding school rules and an invitation for black tea.

Deep within the Index, that new page no longer emitted a cold light, but had turned into a steady, light-brown background. Shiina Hiyori's name was officially settled. The title column had no tag-like words, only a short phrase: "The Book and the Quiet Observer." The status column was a neutral description: "A gentle observer independent of the mainstream power structure of Class C."

He crouched down and found the Summary of School System Changes on the bottom shelf of the dusty bookcase. The binding was indeed damaged, the spine repaired multiple times with tape. He opened it to page thirty-seven. The very first line made his fingers freeze: "Class competition system, trial run since the third year of the school's founding. The initial version included a dual mode of cross-class group cooperation and competition. One year later, it was simplified to a pure competition mode; the cooperation mode was frozen due to high management difficulty, but it was not deleted from the regulations."

Cooperation mode. Frozen. Not deleted from the regulations.

In other words, the rules of this school were not just what they appeared to be. There were old rules that had been frozen but never truly deleted. And frozen rules could be reactivated under specific conditions. He closed the book, leaned against the shelf, and closed his eyes, storing this information deep in his memory. Cross-class groups—the cross-class group arrangement Chabashira mentioned last week was likely not just a simple seating adjustment. It was highly probable that it was a low-profile test of the frozen cooperation mode. If that was the case, then what the classes would face next was far more than just competition. There was also the reactivation of cooperation.

He stood up and looked across the shelves toward the return desk. Shiina Hiyori was still bowing her head, organizing materials, her light chestnut hair falling from the side of her ear, obscuring her profile. But her fingertips paused slightly—she could feel his gaze. She didn't look up, merely continuing her work.

Outside the library, the May sunlight was blanketing the entire corridor. Some relationships were steel wires; one misstep and you would fall. Some relationships were anchors that could hold you in a safe position during a storm. It was hard to say which one Shiina Hiyori was for now. But at the very least, she had given him a steel cable—the location of that Summary of School System Changes; she was the only one in the entire library who knew it.

That was enough.