Group Assignments

June 1, 7:40 a.m.

Three rows of students had already gathered around the bulletin board on the first floor of the Academic Building. It was even more crowded than when the interclass groups had been announced last semester, because this time the posted list affected not only teams for study assignments, but everyone's Class Points, personal points, and how much control they would have over their own fate in the next two weeks. By the time Kanzaki Toru arrived, Ken Sudō and Kanji Ike had already squeezed to the front. Sudō jabbed a finger at the board, scanning down the list and reading out names in a voice loud enough to carry through the entire hallway. Ike stood beside him, rising onto his tiptoes to help check student numbers. For once, the two weren't shoving each other around; their shoulders were simply half an inch closer than usual.

Kanzaki Toru didn't push his way in. He stood at the edge of the crowd, photographed each page of the list with his phone, then stepped away and leaned against the hallway windowsill to zoom in and read.

The groups were arranged to mix students from different classes, with six people in each. Students from Class D, Class C, Class B, and Class A had been combined, with each group designed to include members from different classes. A line of fine print in the notes column read, "Group assignments based on each student's collaboration records during this semester's interclass group tasks, cooperation during the Disciplinary Committee hearings, and collaboration tendency scores in personal conduct files." He found his name in Group 12. The other members were Shiina Hiyori, Hamaguchi Tetsuya, and three names he barely recognized: an A-class girl named Morishita Ran, a B-class boy named Nomura Takuya, and a C-class boy named Ishizaki Daichi.

Ishizaki Daichi. Not Kondo, not Ryuen, but Ishizaki. He zoomed in on the page and checked the student number to make sure. Ishizaki's name appeared in a collaborative group led by Class D, rather than in some marginalized mixed group where he would be left to fend for himself. That meant the school's system had judged his recantation at the Disciplinary Committee hearing to be a positive indicator of cooperation. It also meant that someone else's name was nowhere on any group list. He scrolled down to the last page. Ryuen Kakeru wasn't listed in any collaborative group. Instead, his name appeared under "Independent Task Group" on the final page. The note read, "Due to the suspension of his role as a case handler during the Disciplinary Committee investigation, he will not be included in interclass collaborative groups for the time being. Independent task details to be announced separately." He had been isolated. Not expelled, not suspended from class—just removed from every project that required trust and cooperation, and placed in a glass observation room. For someone like Ryuen, that was probably harder to endure than any other punishment.

"Sakura's in Group 8." Shiina Hiyori had appeared beside him at some point, holding a steaming cup of black tea in one hand and opening the group list on her phone with the other. "Karuizawa Kei's in her group, along with two girls from Class C and a boy from Class B. That boy's name is Nomura Taku—wait, Nomura's in your group. Her group has someone else." She lowered her head and checked the student numbers, confirming that the two students named Nomura shared a surname but were different people. Then she looked up and added something more important: "Manabe Shiho's also in the Independent Task Group. Her name's right next to Ryuen's note."

Kanzaki Toru looked where she was pointing. Manabe Shiho, Independent Task Group, with the note, "Not included in interclass collaborative groups for the time being while undergoing evaluation by the counseling group." Two people stripped of their labels by the hearing had been placed in the same category, yet had no contact with each other. It was another of the school's usual tactics: observe everyone individually, collect data, and save the results to be weighed in the next Special Exam.

"Horikita's in Group 5. Her group has Ken Sudō, the class representative from Class C, and two academically inclined students from Class A." Horikita Suzune's voice came from behind them. She held a photocopy of the list fresh from the printer, with a can of black coffee tucked under her arm. "Sudō and the Class C representative are in the same group. Their tasks during the competitive phase will likely involve resolving conflicts between classes. If Sudō can learn to work with people from Class C instead of fighting them in this exam, the punch he held back at the Old School Building last semester will turn into tangible bonus points." Her tone remained even as she spoke, but her fingers lingered for an extra beat beside Sudō's name while she looked over the list.

"What about Ryuen?" Sudō pushed his way out of the crowd, drenched in sweat and clutching a crumpled list in one hand. He still had half a piece of bread Ike had given him in his mouth, and he shouted his question at Kanzaki Toru. When Kanzaki told him Ryuen had been listed separately in the Independent Task Group, Sudō fell silent for a while. He didn't punch a desk like he had last semester. He simply folded the list and put it in his pocket, muttering, "He got off easy." Then he turned toward the gym, walked a few steps, and stopped to look back. "Which group is Ishizaki in?" When Shiina told him Ishizaki was in Kanzaki's group, he nodded and continued toward the gym.

Not long afterward, Ishizaki Daichi himself pushed out of the crowd in front of the bulletin board. He held his group confirmation sheet. When he saw Kanzaki Toru standing by the hallway windowsill, he paused, then continued forward and stopped in front of him. "We're in the same group." As he spoke, he folded and unfolded the confirmation sheet. He didn't meet Kanzaki's eyes, but his posture was neither as tense as it had been on that night at the Old School Building, nor as slumped as it had been at the hearing.

"I saw." Kanzaki Toru put his phone away. "This time, there's no need to climb a wall and check the files. The task details will be shared with the whole group."

The corner of Ishizaki's mouth twitched ever so slightly. It wasn't a smile, but the last bit of weight finally lifting from his shoulders. "I can play basketball, but the collaborative task might not need a jump shot. Just tell me what I can do."

"Go meet Hamaguchi first and find out about Class B's experience communicating with the old Student Council," Kanzaki Toru said.

Ishizaki nodded, folded the confirmation sheet, and put it in the inside pocket of his uniform. Then he headed toward the gymnasium.

Karuizawa Kei emerged from a group of girls, carrying two cans of red bean soup. She set one on the windowsill and pushed it toward Sakura Airi. Sakura took it and held it in her hands without opening it, gently rubbing the droplets of condensation on the bottom with her fingers. "You're in Group 8," Karuizawa said, opening her own can and taking a sip. "That girl from Class C in your group took swimming class with you last semester. She talked to you in the shallow end. She's not like Manabe, so don't avoid her this time. If she says hello, just say, 'Thanks.' You promised me you would."

Sakura lowered her eyes and turned the can of red bean soup once in her hands, then looked up. "Okay. Then you promise me something too—if Kushida asks you to go sing, don't bring your signal blocker again."

"Why?"

"Because she always checks whether people are on guard before inviting them. If you bring a signal blocker, you're basically telling her you're already guarding against her." Sakura spoke softly and slowly, but every word landed firmly in the hallway air before noon. Karuizawa stared at her for a moment, then laughed. It wasn't a proud, distant laugh, but one that came from relaxing after someone had hit a nerve. "Okay. I promise."

Kanzaki Toru leaned against the windowsill and watched them as sunlight filtered through the glass and slowly moved across the hallway floor. Shiina Hiyori's tea had gone cold. She set her cup at the corner of the windowsill, opened the Library's checkout board, and began sending simplified Old System guidelines to all the group liaisons. Karuizawa finished her red bean soup and paused before crushing the aluminum can. Then she glanced back toward the direction they had just come from. Sakura's words about letting her guard down reminded her of the anonymous image she had received the night before, signed "&." It contained no threat or demand; it felt more like a trump card placed face down. She had no intention of bringing it up in the hallway. She simply crushed the can, tossed it into the recycling bin, and hurried after Sakura.

Kanzaki Toru watched her disappear around the hallway corner. His terminal buzzed, and an encrypted message from Horikita Suzune appeared: "I obtained the outline of Ryuen's Independent Task Group. He'll need to make symbolic amends for obligations left unfulfilled under the Old System, as drafted by Sakagami-sensei in his capacity as a retired teacher. I can't verify the specific task list yet, but the school's attitude toward him isn't punishment. It's 'calibration.'"

Not punishment, but calibration. He turned the word over in his mind. The White Room had procedures like that, too: individuals who made mistakes weren't beaten or locked away. Instead, they were assigned a series of precisely designed remedial exercises until their metrics returned to the expected range. Advanced Nurturing High School had removed Ryuen from the collaborative network not to destroy him, but to recalibrate a variable the Old System deemed valuable enough to reactivate. He was about to reply to Horikita when his terminal buzzed again. An image, with no sender's signature, only a symbol: "&." The background showed the outer wall of the gymnasium. A figure stood sideways at the door to the Equipment Room, holding a group assignment sheet torn from the bulletin board and facing away from the camera. The figure was easy to recognize: a close-cropped haircut, uniform collar open, shoulder blades faintly visible through the fabric. Ishizaki had been standing by the Equipment Room door for a long time, gripping the list so tightly that its edges had creased in several places.

Kanzaki Toru enlarged the image, saved it, and didn't reply. Then he put away his terminal and picked up the unopened can of red bean soup on the windowsill. Droplets slid down the can and into his fingers, cold and real. He tucked it into the side pocket of his backpack and headed out of the Academic Building.

The sun beat down on the athletic field. The freshly cut grass gave off a strong, earthy scent, and several underclassmen were carrying prop boxes for the first phase of interclass collaboration into the sports storeroom. One box was marked with the number prefix for the Old School Building Archive Room—the exact same prefix as the one in the pencil writing Sakagami-sensei had left in the blank space in the archive. A little gray-feathered bird landed on the iron fence atop the high wall, its breast feathers all turning toward the southern field in the backlight. There was no wind in June, but the bell had already rung.