Spare Key and Preventative Energy Conservation

It was five-thirty in the morning when Orikasa Yuu opened his eyes.

There was no alarm clock, no dreams; his biological clock functioned like a precisely calibrated instrument, waking him at the designated time. The dormitory was still quiet, and even, rhythmic breathing drifted from the neighboring and upstairs rooms—over a hundred students lived in this independent dormitory building, and the vast majority of them were still fast asleep at this hour.

He washed up, changed into his uniform, and quietly stepped out of his room.

The motion sensor lights in the hallway clicked on one by one in response to his footsteps, then quietly died away behind him. Walking downstairs, the corridor lights illuminated each step, and the metal handrail offered a cold touch.

The first-floor lobby was much emptier than he had expected.

Morning light cut diagonally through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long patches of light across the floor. The sofas in the lounge area were entirely empty, and the indicator light on the vending machine blinked monotonously. There was only one person in the entire space—the dorm supervisor behind the duty desk, a middle-aged man of about forty, was looking down at a newspaper with a steaming cup of coffee resting beside his hand.

Orikasa Yuu's footsteps tapped out a regular echo on the floor.

The supervisor raised his head, his gaze lingering on him for a second before falling back to the newspaper. You're up really early, Class D.

Orikasa Yuu walked up to the duty desk and came to a halt. His gaze swept past the supervisor's shoulder to land on the bulletin board on the wall behind him. Posted there were dormitory management regulations, emergency contact numbers, and an inconspicuous notice: [Application for Daily Life Services].

"I'd like to confirm something," Orikasa Yuu began, his voice sounding very soft in the empty lobby. "Regarding spare room keys."

The supervisor put down the newspaper and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did you lose your key?"

"No." Orikasa Yuu pulled his phone from his pocket. "The student handbook states that a spare room key can be requested for 200 points. I'd like to know what procedures the application process requires."

The supervisor leaned back in his chair, his expression turning somewhat peculiar, as if he had heard a funny question. "Procedures? There are no procedures. Give me the room number and 200 points, I'll log it, and you get the card."

"Any room?"

"Any room." The supervisor shrugged. "A101, C205, it doesn't matter. As long as you can state the room number and pay the points, the card is yours. That's the school's rule."

Orikasa Yuu fell silent for a second. "No proof of identity? No consent from the room's owner?"

"In this school, points are proof of identity." The supervisor took a sip of coffee, his tone as flat as if he were discussing the weather. "Points can buy you a lot more things than you think. What, whose room card do you want to buy?"

"Just confirming the rules." Orikasa Yuu put his phone away and turned toward the front door.

The supervisor's voice came from behind him, carrying a hint of elusive amusement. "Let me give you some advice: even if you get the card, don't do anything out of line. The dorm hallways have surveillance, and the school won't cover for you if something happens."

Orikasa Yuu didn't look back as he pushed open the glass door and stepped outside.

The morning breeze rushed at him with the chill of dew. He walked along the stone path toward the school building, his mind replaying the conversation from just a moment ago.

Any room, 200 points, no consent required.

This meant that as long as someone was willing to pay 200 points, they could enter any student's private space in the middle of the night. Girls' dorms, boys' dorms, there was no difference. Privacy in this school was only worth the price of a cheap lunch.

A loophole, Orikasa Yuu defined the phenomenon in his mind.

As he passed through a grove of cherry blossom trees, a faint sound of footsteps came from ahead. The footsteps were light, as if deliberately quieted, carrying a cautious sense of probing.

Orikasa Yuu raised his head.

Sakura Airi stood at the other end of the path, clutching that single-lens reflex camera of hers, her pink hair swaying slightly in the morning wind. She also seemed to have just left the dorm, walking step by step with her head down, as if she were counting the stone flags on the ground.

Their gazes met in the air.

Sakura Airi's body visibly stiffened, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the camera strap. She opened her mouth, her voice as thin as a gnat's. "M-Morning... Orikasa-kun."

Orikasa Yuu stopped walking.

The first rule of energy conservation: do not actively generate social energy expenditure. But at this moment, the other party had already greeted him first, and ignoring her would instead produce awkwardness—and awkwardness was a kind of social wear and tear that required subsequent repair.

"Morning," he replied in a flat voice.

Sakura Airi froze for a moment, as if she hadn't expected him to answer, before taking small, hesitant steps closer to maintain a distance of about a meter as they walked side by side on the stone path. Her gaze stared fixedly at the tip of her shoes, the tips of her ears slightly red.

The two walked in silence for a dozen meters.

Orikasa Yuu's peripheral vision caught her opening her mouth to speak several times only to stop, her fingers twisting and untwisting the camera strap. He judged that if this silence continued any longer, she might speak more out of nervousness, thereby generating an even longer conversational chain.

Rather than passively waiting, it was better to proactively release a piece of information to end the conversation.

"Sakura."

"Eh? Y-Yes!"

"You live in the dorm alone, right?"

Sakura Airi blinked and nodded. "Um... yes."

"I confirmed something last night." Orikasa Yuu looked straight ahead, his tone like he was stating the weather. "In this school, anyone who pays 200 points can apply for a spare room key to any room. No personal consent required, no proof of identity. As long as you know the room number."

Sakura Airi's footsteps came to a halt, her eyes widening slightly.

"Two hundred points... can get someone else's room key?" Her voice trembled a bit. "T-Then doesn't that mean..."

"It means privacy is only worth 200 points," Orikasa Yuu calmly continued. "I suggest you wedge a chair behind your door before sleeping, or buy an independent door lock. The school locks won't stop a determined visitor."

Sakura Airi's complexion turned somewhat pale, and she instinctively clutched the camera in her arms tighter, as if holding onto some kind of talisman.

"W-Why are you telling me this..."

Orikasa Yuu did not answer.

The energy conservationist's logic was simple: if she fell into panic or trouble because her privacy was violated, it would likely trigger commotions, investigations, class point fluctuations, and a series of uncontrollable chain reactions. Informing her beforehand was the lowest-energy preventative measure.

He glanced at the time on his phone.

"It's time for class."

With that, he quickened his pace, leaving Sakura Airi behind in a daze.

The afternoon schedule was loose, with the final period designated as self-study.

Orikasa Yuu sat in the rearmost seat, supporting his chin with one hand as he gazed at the sun gradually sinking toward the west outside the window. A lazy atmosphere permeated the classroom; Ike Kanji and Yamauchi Haruki were passing notes, Karuizawa Kei was stealthily touching up her makeup in a mirror, and Sudou Ken lay face-down on his desk asleep, his red hair pressed into a messy tangle.

At five o'clock sharp, the loudspeaker rang out.

"Attention all first-year freshmen, the club orientation will be held in the gymnasium at five-thirty. Please arrive on time. I repeat, please arrive on time."

A stir rippled through the classroom.

"Club orientation? Sounds like a huge pain..."

"I heard a lot of clubs will have booths, sounds lively, right?"

"Anyway, I'm not planning to join, total waste of time."

Orikasa Yuu closed the book in his hands. Club orientation. Yet another occasion requiring energy expenditure. But he had to attend—absence might draw unnecessary attention.

At five-thirty, the gymnasium was brightly lit.

Unlike the entrance ceremony, the gym had now been transformed into a huge bazaar. Sports clubs like basketball, soccer, and tennis occupied the most prominent positions, with members wearing team uniforms and shouting loudly; cultural clubs like the orchestra, drama club, and cooking club were in relatively quiet corners, displaying homemade promotional posters; a few landscape photographs hung before the photography club's booth, and an upperclassman wearing glasses was handing out flyers all around.

Orikasa Yuu entered from the entrance and walked slowly along the outermost perimeter channel. He didn't linger at any booth, his gaze scanning every promotional board like a scanner to confirm there were no options worth spending time on.

Sports clubs? Regular training required, extremely high energy consumption.

Cultural clubs? Activity participation and rehearsals required, moderate energy consumption.

Photography club? Outdoor shooting and post-processing required, uncontrollable energy consumption.

Conclusion: no clubs suitable for an energy conservationist.

As he passed the photography club's booth, his peripheral vision caught a familiar pink figure.

Sakura Airi stood before the booth, head down, her fingers unconsciously twisting the camera strap. The photography club's upperclassman was enthusiastically introducing it to her. "Underclassman, you've got an SLR? Interested in joining us? We have a darkroom in our club, and the equipment is complete..."

Sakura Airi's shoulders shrank slightly, her voice so small it was almost swallowed by the surrounding clamor. "I-I'm just looking around..."

Her gaze drifted among the crowds and suddenly locked with Orikasa Yuu's for a split second.

Sakura Airi's eyes widened slightly, and she instinctively took half a step toward him before stopping, as if she didn't know whether she should say hello.

Orikasa Yuu nodded in acknowledgment, then turned and walked toward the exit.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka and Horikita Suzune were also in the crowd. The former half-closed his eyes, looking as though he were dozing off while actually observing the movements of every club; the latter stood before a literature club booth, listening expressionlessly to a member's pitch. Neither of them noticed Orikasa Yuu's departure.

He had finished confirming the contents of the club orientation: no need to join any club, no abnormal information worth paying attention to, no incidents requiring intervention.

Energy consumption: minimal.

Yield: information collection complete.

Orikasa Yuu walked out of the gymnasium, the night wind carrying the chill of early spring. Instead of returning directly to the dorms, he took another route around to the dormitory lobby.

A different dorm supervisor was on duty in the lobby—a woman of around thirty, looking down and swiping on her phone.

Orikasa Yuu walked up to the duty desk and pulled out his phone.

"There's something I'd like to confirm," his voice was calm. "If I pay points, can I ensure that the spare key to my room cannot be claimed by anyone?"

The supervisor froze, then revealed a "someone is bound to ask this eventually" expression. "Yes. Buying out the claim rights for your own room's spare key costs 2,000 points. Once registered in the system, no matter who it is or how many points they pay, no one gets your room key unless you're present in person."

"Including school management?"

"..." The supervisor's eyes flickered. "Including them."

Orikasa Yuu didn't hesitate, scanning the code to pay.

Balance: 97180 PPt

2,000 points. A considerable expense, but far lower than the energy cost of handling subsequent events like "someone sneaking into the room."

A variant of energy conservation: pre-paying controllable costs to eliminate uncontrollable risks.

The supervisor tapped a few times on the computer, a line of confirmation info flashing across the screen. She didn't print a receipt, didn't paste a label, and the system screen faced away from the lobby.

"Done. Your room is locked down."

Orikasa Yuu glanced behind the duty desk—there were no new marks on the bulletin board, no traces exposing his room number.

Perfect.

He put away his phone and turned toward the stairs.

It wasn't that he thought too far ahead; he just didn't like surprises.