On the morning of the third day of school, in the classroom of Class 1-C—
Shiina Hiyori sat quietly in the window-side corner, like an isolated island surrounded by a restless tide.
Her posture was slightly bowed.
Silver hair, soft as moonlight, slipped over her shoulders, a few strands falling across her delicate cheek.
Her violet eyes remained lowered, fixed on the thick mystery novel open on her desk. Her fingertips traced the pages absentmindedly, as though the world within the book was far more vivid than the classroom around her.
On the podium, Ryuuen Kakeru's deep, heavy voice fell like stones into still water, shattering the room's fragile quiet.
"…class points… daily behavior assessment… ranking determines resources…"
He outlined the core rules governing the "class points" system, then declared his intention to become the sole authority of Class 1-C.
His voice was commanding—absolute. His ominous gaze swept the room like a cold, merciless searchlight.
Shiina didn't look up, but every word Ryuuen spoke imprinted itself in her mind with crisp precision.
Daily behavior tied to points?
Point fluctuations determining class rank, status, and resources?
A faint spark of comprehension flickered in her violet eyes.
This academy—this so-called merit-based system—indeed operated under an unusually rigid set of rules, where an individual's conduct directly influenced collective fate.
But Shiina Hiyori had no interest in inter-class conflict.
Class A or Class D, they were merely different "variables" under the school's structure in her eyes—nothing more.
Yet, one thing caught her attention.
Ryuuen Kakeru… this violent, domineering boy… actually chose to spend points to buy information?
That, surprisingly, intrigued her.
She subtly lifted her gaze, peeking through strands of silver hair at the tall figure dominating the podium.
He stood with the oppressive air of a tyrant, ready to crush any sign of opposition.
And yet, beneath that force, he had chosen strategy—information gathering, bargaining.
Violence and cunning coexisted in him, oddly and unexpectedly.
Shiina's thoughts drifted.
If he intended to pursue more complex strategies from here on out, he would inevitably need someone capable of thinking.
She let her eyes sweep the room.
Thugs who relied only on fists.
Girls who were loud but thoughtless.
Restless students, all easily manipulated.
Her gaze returned to her book.
—In this entire class, the only one with the ability to think logically was probably herself.
If Ryuuen wanted help, he would surely come to her.
Just as that thought surfaced—
Heavy footsteps approached.
Each step carried a crushing weight.
The sunlight dimmed.
A tall figure cast a shadow over her desk.
Shiina slowly lifted her head.
Ryuuen Kakeru stood there, towering over her, staring down.
Her expression didn't change.
Calmly, she closed the pages of her novel, the soft snap echoing lightly.
It was as if she had merely finished jotting down a note, not been confronted by the class tyrant.
Her violet eyes lifted, serene and unreadable.
"Student Ryuuen," she said, her voice soft and airy.
"Is something wrong?"
Ryuuen's gaze bore into her, as though attempting to pierce the surface of those tranquil eyes.
Then he spoke.
"Hey, Hiyori."
His tone was direct.
"What do you know about Sakamoto of Class A?"
For the first time, an imperceptible flicker passed through Shiina Hiyori's eyes.
Sakamoto?
Class 1-A's Sakamoto?
The black-haired boy in the library—
The one who moved with elegant ease, who took down Farewell, My Lovely and talked with her about Philip Marlowe's loneliness and perseverance—
His eyes so calm, so clear, as if he could see straight through the haze of the world.
What business does Student Ryuuen… have with him?
A ripple stirred quietly in her heart.
Unexpected.
Unwelcome.
Was it… an instinctive desire to protect?
Or perhaps a faint partiality toward the first person who truly understood her world of mysteries?
But the moment the ripple appeared, it vanished, sinking back beneath the surface of silent indifference.
Shiina tilted her head slightly, letting a curtain of silver hair fall with the motion.
A gentle, perfectly measured expression of mild confusion settled on her face.
"Sakamoto-kun?"
Her voice remained soft—only a hint of puzzlement coloring her tone.
"Class 1-A's Sakamoto-kun? I apologize, Student Ryuuen… but I'm not very familiar with him."
She paused, her violet eyes serene.
She gazed up at him quietly—
Calm, unreadable,
her lie smooth as still water.
"Student Ryuuen, is there something you need him for?"
Ryuuen stared at Shiina Hiyori without blinking, as if trying to catch the slightest crack in her calm façade. Her serenity, her mild confusion, her perfectly measured bewilderment—every expression looked natural, seamless.
But if there was one thing Ryuuen Kakeru never trusted, it was appearances.
"Student Ryuuen seems quite interested in this Sakamoto-kun?" Hiyori added softly.
Ryuuen held her gaze for several long seconds, his eyes sharp and unwavering. Finally, he straightened, withdrew his hands from her desk, and shoved them back into his pockets.
"Interested?" He scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "He's just a pretentious Class 1-A bookworm."
He shifted the topic, his tone returning to its usual cold command.
"Still… if we're going to lead Class C to the top and surpass Class 1-A, then understanding their standout students is necessary."
He emphasized surpass Class 1-A deliberately, framing it as a goal for the class—not his personal obsession.
"Hiyori," he said, calling her by her first name again, this time with an unmistakable air of dominance. His eyes flicked toward the mystery novel on her desk. "You seem smart. Observant. Someone who actually uses her brain."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Starting today, I'm giving you a task."
Shiina Hiyori lifted her violet eyes, watching him with quiet patience.
"Observe that Sakamoto-kun," Ryuuen ordered. "His movements, habits, weaknesses, the people he interacts with. Anything that looks like a secret, anything we can use."
He added, almost casually:
"This is all for Class C. Know yourself and your enemy—then you won't lose. If Class 1-A has a strong pawn, we need to understand him before we make our move. Got it?"
Hiyori was silent for a moment.
Observe Sakamoto-kun. Identify weaknesses. Search for compromising information.
All for the sake of surpassing Class 1-A?
She nodded lightly. "Understood, Student Ryuuen."
Her voice carried no resistance, no hesitation—only tranquil acceptance, as if she were agreeing to a perfectly ordinary assignment.
"Good." Ryuuen nodded, seemingly satisfied. The oppressive pressure in his gaze loosened, though its sharpness remained. "Report anything you find. Immediately."
He turned without another word, his heavy footsteps echoing through the classroom like the beat of a war drum, demanding obedience from everyone present. When he climbed back onto the podium, his fierce gaze swept across Class 1-C like a predator marking its territory.
Hiyori watched him until he stood still again. Only then did she lower her eyes, reopen her novel, and let her fingertips glide over Philip Marlowe's quiet monologue.
Beneath her serene violet eyes—beneath that icy, glasslike surface—something fragile and complex stirred.
Observe Sakamoto-kun. Expose weaknesses. Find secrets.
For the sake of surpassing Class 1-A?
Her eyes drifted to the window. Sunlight spilled across the garden trees outside, gently swaying in the breeze.
In her mind, the black-haired boy from the library reappeared—his elegant posture, the calm depth of his eyes as they discussed Farewell, My Lovely, the quiet understanding that had felt so rare and natural.
Student Ryuuen… is your goal truly something as simple as "surpassing Class 1-A"?
Hiyori closed her book softly, her fingertips curling slightly.
Sakamoto-kun…
It seems our connection may not remain something as simple as "book friends."