The Silent Front

Mashima Tomoya, dressed in a crisp suit, wrote the four characters "Mashima Tomoya" on the blackboard with a piece of chalk. His strokes were clean and decisive, the chalk making short, crisp sounds against the board.

A man built like a wrestler was actually their English teacher. Kiryu Yume stared at the broad back on the podium for two seconds, and an image involuntarily sprang to mind: the man standing in a boxing ring in shorts, shouting, "Fight!" He quickly shook his head, chasing away the bizarre thought.

Beside him, Morishita Ran was flipping through the student handbook they had just received, page after page. Her blue-violet drooping eyes were slightly lowered as her gaze swept back and forth across the paper. Her expression remained as placid as ever, but she turned the pages quickly, as though searching for something specific.

"What are you looking for?" Kiryu Yume leaned closer and asked.

"The cafeteria." Without looking up, Morishita Ran stopped on a page and tapped a line of text with her fingertip.

"...You're thinking about food on the first day of school?"

She finally raised her head and glanced at him. Her drooping eyes narrowed slightly before she said in her usual tone, so calm it was almost self-evident, "Kiryu Yume, food is the first necessity of the people." Then she added, "You don't eat?"

"I do," Kiryu Yume answered decisively, without the slightest hesitation.

She lowered her head and continued through the handbook. When she reached the cafeteria page, she stopped again and carefully read through the menu and operating hours before finally closing the handbook and placing it at the corner of her desk.

Kiryu Yume found her rather interesting. She looked cold and did not speak much, but whenever food came up, she became especially serious. It was not an act. It was genuine, instinctive focus.

"Now, please turn on the phones that were just issued to you and log into your accounts." Mashima Tomoya's steady, clear voice came from the podium. "The one hundred thousand personal points should already have been deposited. If your points have not arrived, raise your hand and report it to me immediately."

Kiryu Yume gathered his thoughts and looked down at the phone on his desk. The screen was fairly large, and the device felt heavy in his hand. It did not look cheap. He pressed the power button, and the screen lit up. The login interface was simple: enter his student ID and initial password, then tap confirm.

Personal Points: 100,000.

When the number appeared, he stared at the screen for several seconds.

Mashima Tomoya glanced around the classroom and waited a while. No one raised a hand to report an issue with their points. He gave a slight nod and continued, "Within the school, one point has the same purchasing power as one yen outside. One hundred thousand points equals one hundred thousand yen. All spending on campus can be paid with points—the cafeteria, convenience store, vending machines, even the barbershop and laundry room. As long as you want to buy something, points can buy almost anything."

One hundred thousand yen.

Kiryu Yume silently calculated it in his head. In his previous life, he had worked himself to the bone for a month just to earn that much. And now the school was simply giving it to them every month?

He heard someone in the front whisper, "That much?" Another voice beside them replied, "I knew this was the right place." Their voices were low, but the excitement they could not conceal still leaked through. He was not the only one shocked by that number.

"The points will be deposited into your accounts punctually on the first day of every month." Mashima Tomoya braced both hands against the sides of the lectern, his gaze slowly sweeping over the class. "That concludes the explanation of the school's rules. If you have any questions, raise your hand."

Several hands shot up throughout the classroom.

Kiryu Yume hesitated briefly, then raised his hand as well. He had a question, one he wanted answered immediately.

Mashima Tomoya's gaze passed over the raised hands before he casually pointed in one direction. It happened to be Kiryu Yume.

Kiryu Yume lowered his hand, cleared his throat, and asked with a frown, "Sir, will the school give us one hundred thousand points every month?"

He truly could not believe a school would do something like this. In his previous life, back home, it had been good enough if a school did not charge students money. This school, on the other hand, not only did not charge them—it paid them. And it gave them one hundred thousand at a time. Something was definitely wrong when things were too unusual; he understood that much.

Mashima Tomoya looked at him and paused for roughly two seconds.

"I cannot answer that question."

That was all. Direct and concise, without any unnecessary explanation.

The classroom fell silent for a moment. Kiryu Yume could feel several gazes settling on him. The question he had asked had clearly made quite a few people realize things they had not considered before.

"So that means... it might not be one hundred thousand points next month." Someone quietly repeated the implication, obvious unease in their voice.

Kiryu Yume sat back down. He did not press the question, because Mashima Tomoya's answer itself had already explained plenty. "I cannot answer" and "I don't know" were two different things. The teacher knew the answer but could not tell them. That meant the rules for distributing points could change, and the deciding factor was most likely in the students' own hands.

Leaning back in his chair, he began planning how to spend his one hundred thousand points. One hundred thousand was neither a lot nor a little. If it really decreased next month, then he needed to spend carefully this month. The cafeteria would certainly be cheaper than outside, and the convenience store prices were clearly marked in the handbook. He would get through the first month first and figure out the rules afterward.

Morishita Ran turned her head to look at him and quietly said, "Kiryu Yume, you think fast."

Her tone was as flat as ever, with neither praise nor criticism in it.

Kiryu Yume froze for a moment. "Not bad." He tried to make his tone sound less affected.

She turned her gaze back toward the podium, as though their brief exchange had never happened.

After Kiryu Yume's question had been answered, Mashima Tomoya casually pointed to another student with a raised hand.

The one who stood was a man with a gleaming shaved head. Combined with his muscular build and composed demeanor, he did not seem like a high school student at all. He rose at an unhurried pace, carrying the habitual calm of someone accustomed to being composed.

"The school is giving us so many personal points," Katsuragi Kohei said in a low, clear voice. He did not speak quickly, but every word was enunciated distinctly. "Does it require us to do anything, or achieve some sort of goal?"

Mashima Tomoya looked at him and answered just as succinctly. "This school evaluates students by their ability. Since you were able to enroll successfully, that proves you possess the corresponding value. What you need to do is maintain that value."

Another ambiguous answer. Kiryu Yume rolled his eyes inwardly. Ability? What counted as ability? Test scores? Athletic performance? Or something else? Mashima Tomoya's words were watertight. On the surface, he had answered the question, but in reality, he had explained nothing.

"Does anyone else have a question?" Mashima Tomoya's gaze swept through the classroom again.

At that moment, a blond-haired boy raised his hand. His hair was neatly styled, his appearance sunny, and a relaxed smile rested on his face.

"What else would you like to ask?" Mashima Tomoya lifted his chin in acknowledgment.

"Sir, shouldn't we choose a class leader?" Hashimoto Masayoshi's voice was neither loud nor soft, carrying the casual air of an offhand remark. Yet the timing of his question landed precisely in the gap after Katsuragi had just sat down, before the atmosphere had fully settled.

Mashima Tomoya was silent for a while.

"This school does not have a system of class officers managing the class," he finally said. "If you want someone to manage the class, then a student with sufficient prestige must become the leader. You will decide that through a vote. The school will not interfere."

No class president?

Kiryu Yume blinked. Then who would enforce discipline? Who would collect homework? Who would pass on notices? Were the students supposed to manage themselves entirely? He remembered his school in his previous life: class president, vice president, academic representative, discipline representative—a whole string of titles that could make a person dizzy. Here, there was nothing at all.

The classroom was quiet for several seconds. The students looked at one another, seemingly processing the information.

Then, amid that silence, a voice rang out from one of the seats near the front.

"I nominate Katsuragi."

Everyone's attention turned toward the same direction—the seat by the aisle. The speaker was a boy seated near Katsuragi. His expression was serious and his tone certain; it did not sound like a spontaneous suggestion.

Katsuragi Kohei sat there without speaking from the moment he had asked his question, simply listening quietly. Now, faced with the nomination, he slowly rose and gave a slight nod.

"Thank you for the nomination." His voice remained low and steady. "If everyone trusts me, I will do my best. But since the teacher said the decision should be made by vote, why not first see whether anyone else is willing to participate?"

He neither accepted outright nor declined. The response was both appropriate and left room for maneuver, causing Kiryu Yume to take note of him again. This man spoke steadily and did not rush.

The classroom began to grow lively. Some students quietly discussed Katsuragi, while others looked around to see whether anyone else would step forward. Several boys in the back leaned together and whispered, seemingly discussing whom to nominate. A few girls in the front spoke in low voices as well, occasionally glancing toward Katsuragi.

Kiryu Yume did not join the discussion. He leaned back in his chair, spinning a pen in his hand as it circled around his fingers again and again, though his eyes had no particular focus. He had no interest in who became the leader. Whoever it was would not affect his attending class, eating, or sleeping. As long as he could live his days peacefully, that was enough.

Morishita Ran beside him did not speak either. She sat quietly, her gaze slowly moving from one face to another as though observing something. No emotion could be read from those blue-violet drooping eyes, but the very way she watched made Kiryu Yume feel that she was not as detached as she appeared.

His peripheral vision swept toward the seat by the front window. The silver-haired girl remained seated there, a slender white cane resting at her side. The hardbound book before her was still open to the same page. She had not looked up from beginning to end, nor had she joined any discussion. It was as though everything happening in the classroom had nothing to do with her. Or perhaps she had already known what would happen, so she was not surprised at all.

Then another voice rang out.

"I nominate Sakayanagi."

The one who spoke was the blond-haired boy from earlier, Hashimoto Masayoshi. His hair remained impeccably styled, and his face wore the relaxed expression of someone who enjoyed watching trouble unfold. He did not stand, merely raised a hand casually in indication, then spoke those words in a voice that was neither loud nor soft.

The classroom instantly fell silent for a moment. It was not an empty silence, but the silence of everyone processing the information at once.

Attention shifted away from Katsuragi and toward the window seat. The silver-haired girl finally reacted. The book before her remained open, but she slowly raised her head. Her movements were unhurried and unflustered, as though she had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

She slowly turned to look at Hashimoto Masayoshi. There was little ripple in her purple eyes; they were as calm as a pool whose depths could not be seen.

Hashimoto Masayoshi was in no hurry, as though he had prepared his lines long ago. Smiling, he nodded. "Sakayanagi ranked first in the entire school on the entrance exam. I think she is well suited to be the leader."

Whispers filled the classroom again.

Only then did Kiryu Yume truly look at the girl. First in the entire school on the entrance exam? In his previous life, he had studied himself nearly to death just to place a little above average, while this girl had effortlessly taken first place. He could not help looking at her a few more times.

She was indeed small, with much of her body hidden behind the desk and chair back as she sat there. Yet even though she leaned on a cane, even though she looked physically frail, she sat perfectly straight, carrying an indescribable poise.

Facing Hashimoto Masayoshi's nomination, which clearly carried the implication of choosing sides, she neither declined nor accepted. She merely said, "Interesting."

Then she lowered her head and resumed reading. She turned a page softly, as though nothing had happened.

She did not say, "I'm willing," nor did she say, "I'm unwilling." Just that single "Interesting" made it impossible to guess what she was thinking.

Katsuragi Kohei remained standing, his expression unchanged. He had not had much expression to begin with, but he glanced at Sakayanagi. Their eyes met in the air for a brief instant before each looked away. The moment was so short it was almost impossible to catch, but Kiryu Yume saw it clearly. There was a line between those two—a line that had yet to be made explicit.

Kiryu Yume slumped over his desk, resting his chin on his arm, and muttered quietly enough that only those nearby could hear, "Class hasn't even started, and they're already picking sides."

Morishita Ran heard him.

She turned to glance at him, her blue-violet drooping eyes narrowing slightly. When she spoke, her voice was very low as well, but her words were clear. "Kiryu Yume, you're not participating?"

"Me?" Kiryu Yume pointed at himself and replied in a whisper, "I haven't even figured out my place in this class yet. What am I supposed to participate in?"

Morishita Ran did not press him further. She simply murmured, "Mm," then turned her gaze back toward the podium. The motion was crisp and decisive.

Mashima Tomoya had remained on the podium the entire time, his hands braced against the sides of the lectern as he watched the students discuss matters among themselves. He showed no intention of intervening, and no inclination could be read from his face. He raised his hand to glance at his watch, then lightly rapped the lectern.

"Discuss the election after class." His voice remained steady. "Next, we will continue with the school's facilities and points requiring attention."

He did not stop anyone from stepping forward, nor did he show favor toward anyone. That attitude itself was a statement—you decide for yourselves. I will not interfere.

Kiryu Yume opened the student handbook they had just received. The paper was crisp and the printing clear. He turned several pages along with Mashima Tomoya's explanation—the cafeteria, library, gymnasium, club building, infirmary. The facilities were so complete that they hardly seemed to belong to a high school. There was even a dedicated laundry room and convenience store, with prices marked far below those outside campus.

He examined the convenience store section a few extra times, silently doing the math. If room and board really were covered as the acceptance letter had said, then the money he saved would be enough to last him quite a while.

Sunlight streamed through the windows and fell upon the open student handbook, making the paper gleam faintly. The sounds of pages turning and subdued conversation resumed in the classroom. That brief round of nominations seemed to have already passed.

But Kiryu Yume knew it was only the beginning. Sakayanagi Arisu's "Interesting," the look Katsuragi Kohei had exchanged with her, and the faint smile on Hashimoto Masayoshi's face—those things would not simply pass away.

He closed the handbook and leaned back in his chair.

This school really was not so simple.