The lunchtime atmosphere in Class 1-A was one of quiet, focused diligence. Students huddled over textbooks in muted discussion or meticulously organized notes, the air thick with an efficient, studious energy.
In a back-row seat, Sakayanagi Arisu sat in serene stillness. Her silver hair, catching the window's light, framed a face of delicate calculation. The first week had passed, and she had already mapped the class's social and intellectual topography. Molding this group of elites into a unified instrument—the sharpest blade at Koudo Ikusei—was, to her, an inevitable process. Their talents were pieces on her board, to be positioned and leveraged.
But one piece defied placement: the so-called "legend" of Class A, Sakamoto. He was a shadow over her designs, a variable that disrupted every preset rhythm. He sought no leadership, yet his presence became an unconscious focal point. He was a lone wolf whose every enigmatic action and demonstration of quiet competence etched him deeper into the class's consciousness. Her own maneuvers, however deft, felt like background noise compared to the gravitational pull of his mere existence.
This elicited in Sakayanagi a subtle, cold irritation. She needed a fulcrum—a weakness to exploit, a crack in his solitary peak.
Enter the pawn from Class C: Ryūen Kakeru.
The boy who had loitered outside Class A's door during the first days. She had initially assessed him as a clever brute, someone who could be directed with a few strategic crumbs of information—like the tantalizing concept of "class points"—to probe Sakamoto's defenses.
Yet, Ryūen had proven unexpectedly capable. In one week, he had not merely rallied Class C but forged its chaotic elements into something dangerously cohesive under his iron-fisted control. More concerning, he showed signs of independent ambition, subtly testing the limits of her guidance. The pawn had developed a mind of its own.
A thorny piece, she mused. But a piece nonetheless, so long as it provides value.
A subtle vibration from her pocket interrupted her thoughts. With elegant slowness, she withdrew her phone. The screen glowed with a terse message from Ryūen:
[I have information.]
She rose without haste, collected the exquisite cane leaning against her desk, and glided silently from the room. Her departure drew little notice; the class had grown accustomed to the silver-haired girl's independent rhythms.
Leaning lightly on her cane, she made her way through the sparsely populated corridors until she reached the entrance of a familiar, dimly lit passageway.
There, waiting in the shadows, was Ryūen Kakeru.
He stood with his hands in his pockets, his back against the cold wall, a smirk of predatory satisfaction already etched on his face as his eyes locked onto her approach.
Sakayanagi did not break stride. She stopped a few paces before him, the tip of her cane touching the floor with a soft, definitive tap.
"So, Ryūen-kun," she began, her voice a melodious, controlled instrument. "A week has passed. I trust your… harvest has been fruitful?"
Ryūen pushed himself off the wall, leaning into her space with an aura of deliberate dominance. "Still using that condescending tone, Sakayanagi?" His grin widened, sharp with provocation. "You do know what's become of Class A, don't you? That Sakamoto's probably already walking all over you."
Sakayanagi's grip imperceptibly tightened on her cane. His words were laced with contempt, a blunt instrument aimed at her pride.
"Which is precisely why the information you've gathered is of interest," she replied, her smile not faltering. "Though your eagerness to share suggests you've found something that has… unsettled you?"
"Unsettled?" Ryūen let out a short, derisive laugh, shaking his head.
"I'm merely acknowledging reality," Ryūen countered, his tone shifting. He lowered his voice, the sound becoming more intimate, more dangerous in the dim corridor. "But as for Sakamoto... I did uncover something of interest."
"Oh? Do enlighten me."
"You know he's been working at that café, right?" Ryūen stated bluntly.
A light, disdainful laugh escaped Sakayanagi. "Heh. It would be stranger if I didn't. Half the first-year class has seen his little performance by now."
Unfazed, Ryūen shrugged. "He used his private points to 'buy' the position. The goal is unclear, but he's likely probing the system again."
Sakayanagi's expression remained porcelain-smooth. "Ryuuen-kun, that deduction requires only a modicum of intelligence. It is not valuable information."
"Fine. Then here's something your intelligence can't easily deduce."
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "Sakamoto's gaze extends beyond Class A. He's already cultivating assets in other classes."
Sakayanagi's eyes sharpened instantly. Assets in other classes? It contradicted his profile—the aloof, anti-social genius. Yet, Ryūen wouldn't risk such a claim without evidence.
"Is that so?" she replied, her voice a careful neutral. "And who might this asset in your Class C be?"
Ryuuen's eyes glittered with malicious amusement. "No comment." The refusal was crisp, final. "A spy in Class C is an internal affair. It's none of your Class A business."
A flash of icy anger surged within Sakayanagi, held in check only by decades of ingrained composure. His smug, taunting demeanor was a calculated insult.
Ryuuen seemed to savor her silent fury. He let out a low chuckle. "Don't look so tense, Sakayanagi. I'm not finished."
He paused, letting the silence thicken, his gaze locking onto hers. "Sakamoto has also cultivated a proxy within Class A itself. Someone who acts on his behalf."
"Who?" The word left her lips, cold and sharp as a blade.
Ryuuen's smile twisted into something truly sinister. He leaned closer, his voice a venomous whisper as he delivered the name with deliberate, crushing clarity:
"Kamuro Masumi."
He let the name hang, watching for her reaction. "That purple-haired shadow who trails him to the café every day, staring like a devoted puppy... She's his dog now. His eyes and ears in your own ranks."