Last Year's Exam Papers

Kiryu Yume had gone to Keyaki Shopping Center to buy new notebooks. His old one was nearly full, and having his history notes crammed together with his Principles of Economics notes made them inconvenient to review.

At the stationery store on the first floor, he picked out two B5 loose-leaf binders and a box of refills. By the time he paid and stepped out of the store, the sky was already beginning to darken, and the lights throughout the shopping center were gradually coming on.

He had originally planned to head straight back to the dorms through the main entrance, but a group of girls was lined up around the milk tea shop there. Not wanting to squeeze through them, he went around to the corridor along the side of the building to take a shortcut.

He had walked through this corridor several times before. It led to the back gate of the dormitory area. There were usually few people here, and the streetlights were dim.

He stopped halfway through.

Three people stood at the end of the corridor.

One of them was not wearing a uniform. He had on a gray tracksuit jacket, unzipped to his chest to reveal the rumpled collar of a T-shirt. A cigarette was pinched between his fingers, and a black gym bag sat at his feet.

He knew the other two very well.

Kushida Kikyo walked in front, smiling at the man from several meters away. She was dressed casually today, in a white knit sweater and a light-colored skirt, her hair draped over her shoulders.

Half a step behind her was a Class D boy, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka—the most unremarkable face in Class D. He wore a dark gray hoodie, his hands in his pockets, his pace unhurried.

Kiryu Yume slowed, then froze in place.

There were no side paths along either side of the corridor. If he turned around now, they would hear his footsteps. He sidestepped, pressing himself into the shadow cast by the doorway of the freight elevator maintenance passage, his back against the wall.

He tilted his head slightly, adjusting his angle of view until he could see the end of the corridor through a narrow gap.

The upperclassman had arrived first.

He stood there waiting, one hand in his pocket, his fingertips tapping against the outside of his thigh.

The strap of his bag slipped down once, and he shrugged to push it back up.

Kushida walked lightly, but her shoulders barely moved as she did. Her stride was carefully controlled, and the sound of her heels touching the ground was even softer than when she usually walked through the academic building corridors.

The moment she saw the upperclassman, the corners of her lips curled up first, then her eyes followed. The curve of her eyes was smaller than that of her mouth.

She stopped in front of him and gave him a once-over, from his shoes to his jacket. Her gaze paused briefly near his pocket before she tilted her head and said with a smile, "Long time no see, senpai."

The upperclassman glanced at her, the corner of his mouth twitching before settling back. "We met two weeks ago, didn't we?"

"You have a great memory."

She lowered her eyes and used her fingers to tuck a strand of hair hanging by her cheek behind her ear. The movement was slow. After fixing her hair, she did not immediately look up. Her lashes remained lowered for a beat before she raised her head.

"People with good memories are the only ones who can do this kind of work." He pulled his hand from his pocket and rubbed his fingers together. "I brought the goods. What about you?"

Kushida did not answer right away. She first looked down at his bag, where a corner of a towel peeked out through the unzipped portion.

She stared at that piece of towel for two seconds, then raised her head and said with a smile, "Senpai, you really bring this bag every time. Aren't you afraid someone will recognize it?"

"The more ordinary a bag is, the less people notice it."

"That makes sense." She nodded and took her canvas bag off her shoulder, holding it in her hand. "Then I'll switch to a more ordinary bag next time too."

"That pink backpack you carried last time was no good. It stood out too much. I could recognize it from a mile away."

Kushida's smile paused for an instant. The curve of her lips remained, but the light in her eyes narrowed slightly. Then she smiled again. "I already got rid of that one. This is what I carry now."

She slung the bag back over her shoulder and patted its surface.

The upperclassman grunted. "This one's fine. Gray doesn't show dirt."

"Yeah, I think so too."

Ayanokoji stood three steps away, his gaze resting on the vending machine beside him without turning in their direction.

His stance was relaxed, his weight resting on one leg, both hands tucked into his pockets. He was so quiet that he almost had no presence at all.

Kushida and the boy exchanged a few more pleasantries, nothing more than questions like, "Have inspections been strict lately?" and "Do you have any other subjects?"

As she spoke, her fingers kept rubbing the strap of her canvas bag, moving from one end to the other and then back again. Most of the time, her eyes remained on his face, occasionally drifting down toward his pocket before quickly returning.

"Oh, right, senpai. Can you confirm that this covers every subject?"

Kushida lowered her voice slightly and took a very small step forward—not even half a step. She merely shifted her center of gravity forward. That half-step changed her position from facing him directly to standing slightly sideways, exposing Ayanokoji to the other man's line of sight.

The upperclassman nodded. "All subjects. Japanese, English, math, science, social studies. All five are there, and the answers are included at the end. Though there are a few answers I'm not completely sure about, so check them yourselves."

As he spoke, Kushida tilted her head slightly and listened in silence. Once he finished, she nodded. "Okay. I'll have someone look them over when I get back."

After saying that, she did not reach out right away. Instead, she looked at his pocket, paused for half a second, then raised her eyes to meet his and said with a smile, "Then can I take a look?"

The upperclassman did not immediately take out the envelope. He looked at her, then glanced at Ayanokoji behind her.

Ayanokoji was still standing beside the vending machine, his posture completely unchanged.

The boy's gaze lingered on Ayanokoji for two seconds before returning to Kushida's face.

"I brought it. Where are the points?"

Kushida did not answer immediately. She first lowered her head with a smile, then looked up and pulled out her student ID card, waving it in front of him. "I transferred them ten minutes ago. You can check."

The upperclassman took out his own student ID card too, pressed the side button a few times, glanced at the screen, and put it away. "They're there."

The entire process took less than ten seconds.

While he checked his student ID, Kushida did not watch his hand. She turned her gaze aside toward the wall, but one ear tilted slightly in his direction.

From the shadows, Kiryu Yume saw that subtle movement and pressed his fingertips against the metal panel of the fire hose cabinet.

Only after the boy put away his student ID did she turn back to him, smiling. "Of course we trust your reputation, senpai."

The boy's mouth twitched. "Give me a break. Someone said the same thing last time, and they got caught the next day. I almost got named too."

He waved a hand, then bent down and pulled a manila envelope from the bag at his feet, weighing it in his hand. "The midterm questions are the same every year."

The upperclassman handed over the envelope.

"Thank you, senpai. You really saved us. I'll buy you a drink next time."

"No need. Just don't let anyone know I gave them to you."

"Of course." After saying that, she gave a slight bow.

The upperclassman did not reply. He had already turned away. Bending down, he swung the bag over his shoulder and headed toward the other end of the corridor. His pace was quick, his footsteps echoed a few times against the concrete floor, then vanished.

The air was left with two people—and one person hiding in the shadows, too afraid to move.

Kushida remained where she was, watching until his back disappeared around the corner before withdrawing her gaze. She looked down at the envelope tucked in the crook of her arm, then turned to Ayanokoji. Her expression had returned to normal, no longer that sickeningly sweet smile.

The envelope passed from her hand to Ayanokoji's.

After taking it, he did not open it, turn it over, or check the seal. He simply shoved the hand holding it back into his pocket.

When he turned, he was just as quiet as when he had arrived. His shoulders made no unnecessary movement, and his footsteps made no unnecessary sound.

Then he raised his head and looked once in the direction where Kiryu Yume was hiding.

Kiryu Yume held his breath. His back was pressed against the wall, the metal edge of the fire hose cabinet digging into his shoulder blade, but he did not move.

Ayanokoji's gaze passed over the doorway of the freight elevator maintenance passage, sweeping across it blandly before moving away. There was no pause, no frown.

Kushida turned around and followed for two steps. She first lowered her head to check that the zipper on her canvas bag was closed, then asked in a low voice, "Was someone over there just now?"

Ayanokoji's expression did not change. "I don't know. Let's go."

Kushida looked back toward the end of the corridor. Her gaze passed over the fire hose cabinet, the doorway of the freight elevator maintenance passage, and the patch of shadow, lingering there for about half a second.

Kiryu Yume stood motionless in the deepest part of the shadow, even keeping his breathing at its lowest possible rhythm. Her gaze moved away.

After their footsteps had faded into the distance,

Kiryu Yume stepped out from behind the doorway, a voice recorder in his hand.

So that was how it could be done.

That evening.

At 7:03 p.m., a new message appeared in Class D's group chat.

Kushida Kikyo sent a PDF file titled "Previous Midterm Exam Compilation—Question Types and Answers," followed by a line of text:

Kushida Kikyo: I got hold of questions from previous years. The answers are attached at the end. The midterm questions won't change, so take a look tonight. Memorize as much as you can, and good luck on tomorrow's exam.

After the message was sent, the group chat was silent for about five seconds.

Then Ike Kanji was the first to reply with a "Holy shit" sticker, followed by a string of exclamation marks from Yamauchi Haruki. Notification sounds began chiming one after another—some people asked, "Is this accurate?" Others said, "Kushida, you're a god!" Some had already begun checking the answers in the group chat.

Kushida did not look at her phone again.

She opened the PDF from her sent-message history and checked it once—the page numbers were correct, and the file was not damaged. Then she turned off the screen, set the phone on the table, and flipped it face down.