Kushida Kikyo

On Sunday, Kanzaki Toru spent the entire morning in the Library.

He pored over every record from previous years he could find, jotting down every scrap of information about the Special Exam in his notebook. Last year, the year before that, and even earlier—Class D had been dealt a heavy blow almost every time in the first Special Exam. Class A and Class B had maintained consistently high Class Points, while Class D seemed like a punching bag designed to absorb damage, losing students after every exam. But none of the records contained any specifics about the Special Exam. The school seemed to have deliberately erased every detail from the written records.

That in itself was a clue. The school didn't want students preparing in advance. Or perhaps it wanted them to figure everything out from scratch.

At one in the afternoon, he left the Library and bought a bento at the convenience store. While waiting in line at the register, he noticed someone.

He was a friendly-looking boy. He had black hair, was on the short side, and had a slender build. He wore the boys' uniform of Class D, and both his posture and expression were relaxed. He was chatting with the cashier in an easygoing manner, as if they were friends.

Kanzaki Toru recognized him—his Class D classmate Hirata Yosuke, who sat near the door. During introductions on the first day of school, Hirata had spoken evenly and seemed friendly without being overbearing. He'd given the impression of a "pleasantly ordinary classmate."

But it was precisely that "just the right amount of ordinary" that made Kanzaki Toru look twice. Then he turned away. At this school, being ordinary was the best disguise. He was using the same strategy himself, so he had no reason to suspect that others might be doing the same.

After buying his bento, he was about to find a place to eat lunch in the dining area when a gentle voice came from behind him.

"Kanzaki?"

He turned around.

Kushida Kikyo was standing a short distance behind him, her hands clasped behind her back and her body leaning slightly forward. She wore her signature smile. Sunlight lent a soft sheen to her short hair, and her eyes curved into crescents, making her look exceptionally approachable.

"It really is you, Kanzaki," she said. "I thought I might have mistaken you for someone else. You don't talk much, so I wasn't quite sure of your name."

"That's me." Kanzaki Toru nodded. "Kushida, did you need something?"

"No, I just happened to see you and wanted to say hi." Kushida came over to stand beside him and glanced at the bento in his hand. "Are you eating lunch alone too? So am I. Want to eat together?"

Her tone was so natural that it was hard to refuse. She wasn't pressuring him or acting coy; she was simply being friendly in a way that put people at ease. Refusing her would make him seem unfriendly instead.

"Sure," Kanzaki Toru said.

They found a corner in the dining area and sat down. Kushida opened her bento box, which held several neatly prepared side dishes that looked homemade. As she ate, she chatted about everything from the weather to their classes to the school's facilities, keeping every topic light and pleasant. She looked her conversation partner in the eye as she spoke, but never for too long. She knew just when to look away, keeping the conversation at a comfortable pace.

On the surface, Kushida Kikyo really was a perfect classmate.

"Oh, by the way," Kushida said suddenly, "yesterday afternoon, I saw you with Horikita in the café."

Her hand never stopped moving as she picked up a cherry tomato with her chopsticks, her tone still light and cheerful.

Kanzaki Toru took a bite of rice. "Yeah. She wanted to talk to me about studying."

"Really? Horikita is so serious." Kushida smiled. "But she's so stern. I'm a little afraid to talk to her."

It sounded as though she was complimenting Horikita, but there was a subtle sense of distance in her words—the kind that set "her" apart from "us." Kanzaki Toru noticed, but said nothing.

"What were you talking about?" Kushida tilted her head. "Was it about Class Points, by any chance?"

She was perceptive.

And she had brought the subject up directly.

"Why do you ask?" Kanzaki Toru countered.

"Because everyone's worried." Kushida's expression grew a little more serious, though the smile remained at the corners of her mouth. "Chabashira-sensei said we had 1,000 Class Points, but she didn't say whether that number was fixed or could change. And don't you think it's strange? This school gives students so much freedom and so many points. It feels like something's off."

Everything she said made sense, and it was exactly the sort of analysis a thoughtful, intelligent classmate might come up with.

"I think so too." Kanzaki Toru nodded. "But we haven't received any official notice yet, so all we can do is wait and see."

"True." Kushida sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I just hope nothing too awful happens. Some people in our class—" She paused as if choosing her words carefully. "Some people don't seem to realize how serious things are at all. Take Yoshida and Sudo, for example. They play around every day, and they won't listen no matter what anyone says."

There was nothing logically wrong with her statement. But the implication was that "people like Yoshida and Sudo" were separate from "the rest of us, who understand what's going on."

"True," Kanzaki Toru said.

"I hope we can make it through all three years without anything going wrong." Kushida smiled and began packing up her bento. "Well, I should head to my club activity. Let's chat more sometime, Kanzaki."

"Sure."

Kushida stood, waved to him, and walked out of the dining area with a light step. Her figure soon blended into the sunlight and crowd outside.

Kanzaki Toru stayed where he was, slowly finishing the rest of his bento.

He used his enhanced powers of observation to review their conversation. He picked apart each of Kushida's expressions, each of her words, every pause. Her smile had been sincere, her tone friendly, her concern reasonable. Amid all that sincerity, friendliness, and reasonableness, there had been two deliberate "divisions." "Horikita is stern, so I'm afraid to talk to her"—separating herself from Horikita. "Yoshida and Sudo don't care, and they won't listen"—separating herself from the problem students. Some people were good at earning trust by distinguishing themselves from "troublesome people." But if he thought about it calmly, both divisions had the same result: she became the friendly, rational person who cared about the class, while everyone else was quietly pushed to the outskirts.

It was a remarkably skillful social technique. So skillful that unless someone deliberately analyzed it, they would never notice how cleverly it had been structured.

Horikita had been right: someone who was equally gentle to everyone was either a saint or hiding something. And Kanzaki Toru could now confirm one thing—Kushida Kikyo was definitely not a saint. There was no need to draw any conclusions yet. If Kushida was simply an ordinary student who was especially good at socializing, then this was all just a way of dealing with people. If she was hiding something, sooner or later, a crack would show.

He threw his bento box into the trash and got up to leave the dining area.

The sunlight was intense as he walked out of the Shopping Center. On the sports field, Sudo and Yoshida were playing soccer with a few other boys. Yoshida still had a bandage on his face, but he wasn't holding back at all as he played. Judging by his expression, he was already back to full strength.

At the other end of the field, Sakura Airi was sitting on a bench with the photography collection on her lap. Today, she also had a camera in front of her—a professional-looking DSLR with its lens cap off, pointed toward the sports field. She wasn't photographing the people playing. Instead, she made a slight adjustment to the lens, aiming it at a few roadside trees near the Academic Building.

Kanzaki Toru didn't go over to bother her. From a distance, he watched her press the shutter, check the image on the LCD screen, and then reveal the faintest of smiles. It lasted less than two seconds, but it completely transformed her usually tense expression.

He looked away and headed toward the dorms.

Deep in his consciousness, the Illustrated Guide silently opened to a new page. After Sakura Airi and Horikita Suzune, a third entry was taking shape. The name had already appeared: Kushida Kikyo. But, as with Horikita, her affinity bar was still flickering, and her title bar remained empty. He needed more interaction and more observation before her page would fully reveal itself.

There was no rush. Kushida Kikyo would come looking for him again. She had already done so today. And when she came to see him next time, he'd be able to gather more information.

After returning to his dorm, Kanzaki Toru washed his face and sat down beside the bed. Faintly, shouts and laughter from the soccer game drifted in from the sports field outside. Sunlight passed through the curtains, laying bright stripes across the floor. He reorganized the information he'd gathered that day in his notebook. Known clues: Class D started with 1,000 Class Points; in previous years, Class D had lost 400 points in its first Special Exam and then started losing students; there were multiple Special Exams each school year; students' everyday conduct records were used as a reference when determining exam results; second-year students evaluated and intimidated the newcomers. Clues to confirm: the first Special Exam's specific content, when it would be triggered, and its evaluation criteria; the exact rules for adding and deducting Class Points; the other classes' current points.

He closed his notebook and looked out the window.

The first weekend was over. Tomorrow would mark exactly one week since school began. Based on records from previous years, the first Special Exam should take place one or two months into the school year. If Class D wanted to break the pattern of always losing 400 points, they had to prepare in advance.

And all he could do was open more pages in the Illustrated Guide before the exam arrived. Sakura Airi: 70. Horikita Suzune: being recorded.

And Kushida Kikyo.

He thought of her name alongside Horikita's assessment, then closed his eyes.

The first week of the new school year was over, but the real game had yet to begin. Even so, everyone was already sitting on the chessboard.