More than a week had passed since the start of the second month. The atmosphere within Class 1-B—the former Class C—was not the stifling, fear-laden environment one might expect under a tyrant's rule. Instead, it hummed with a raw, determined academic energy. The air smelled of pencil lead and paper, punctuated by the low murmur of focused discussion.
Ryuuen Kakeru sat at his desk, brow deeply furrowed as he glared at an open mathematics textbook. Scrap paper littered the surface, covered in frantic, abortive calculations. He clicked his tongue in frustration—a feeling not directed at any person, but at the cryptic runes of algebra and geometry that stubbornly resisted his will. He could command delinquents with his fists and his cunning, but bending abstract formulas to his logic was proving a far more vexing challenge.
Yet, this particular humiliation was non-negotiable. Quizzes, midterm exams—these evaluations of pure academic ability directly impacted the precious class points he had fought so hard to secure. His Class B had clawed its way to this position. To be overtaken now by the former Class B over something as "basic" as grades would be a defeat more bitter than any physical blow.
His method for improving the class's overall standard was characteristically direct: sort students by performance, form mandatory study groups, and have the higher-scorers tutor the lower. To his grim satisfaction, the high score from the first month seemed to have instilled a fragile sense of collective pride. The grumbling was incessant, but compliance was high, and a few even showed tentative sparks of genuine interest. Good enough, he thought, forcing his focus back to a geometry proof, deciding that external threats could wait until after the midterms.
Just as he wrestled with another theorem, two figures stopped before his desk.
Ryuuen looked up.
At the forefront stood Shiina Hiyori, her long silver hair a serene cascade, her violet eyes placid and watchful, several literature books cradled in her arms as if she were merely an observer.
A step behind her was Shiho Manabe. The former delinquent's short brown hair was neat, her heterochromatic eyes—one brown, one blue—holding less of their former defiance and more wariness now. She clutched a stack of papers that resembled exam booklets.
Ryuuen set his pen down and leaned back, the desk creaking under his shift in weight as he reassumed his mantle of authority. "What?"
His gaze slid past Shiina Hiyori, locking onto Shiho Manabe.
Shiina turned slightly, her voice a soft prompt. "Manabe-san. Please explain the situation to Ryuuen-kun in detail."
Shiho Manabe took a steadying breath. "Ryuuen-kun, it… it happened yesterday afternoon. I was shopping in the commercial district outside school when a second-year senior I didn't know approached me."
She paused, assembling the memory. "He said he was from Class 2-B. That he was impressed our Class 1-B managed to overtake everyone and take second place in the first month… Then he asked if I wanted to know how to maintain that lead. He said we could trade private points for the information."
Her voice dropped, tinged with regret. "I didn't think too much about it at the time. I thought if there really was a way… so I transferred ten thousand points to him."
Ryuuen's chin gestured toward the papers in her hand. "And he gave you that?"
"Yes." Shiho quickly placed the stack on his desk. "He said these were their actual midterm exams from last year. That the questions are mostly recycled. With these, we could secure an easy advantage."
Ryuuen picked up the top sheet, his eyes scanning the questions with rapid efficiency. The content was plausible, within the expected curriculum.
"But," Shiho added, her confusion deepening, "as he was leaving, he said something else. He said… Sakamoto-kun from Class 1-A had instructed him to do this. That Sakamoto-kun hoped our Class 1-B could maintain its advantage."
The words hung in the suddenly thick air of the classroom. The hum of study seemed to recede. Ryuuen's fingers stilled on the paper. His eyes, which had been narrowed in calculation, now sharpened into points of cold, focused intensity. The external threat had just arrived, not from behind, but from the front, wrapped in a gesture that looked suspiciously like a favor.
Shiho Manabe scratched her head, her expression troubled. "I know who Sakamoto-kun is… that incredible person. But this whole thing feels off. It made me uneasy. I didn't dare hand out the papers, so I went to Shiina-san first."
Ryuuen's gaze shifted to the silent Shiina Hiyori. "Shiina-san. What's your assessment? Does this align with Sakamoto's methods?"
The question was pointed. He knew of Shiina's library meetings with Sakamoto; the nature of their association was unclear, but he sensed she might possess a unique insight.
Shiina Hiyori gave a gentle, decisive shake of her head. "It does not. Sakamoto-kun's approach is more direct, more… expansive. This method—clandestinely selling exam papers while leaving a deliberate trail—feels clumsy. Contrived."
A cold smile touched Ryuuen's lips. "My thoughts exactly."
He tossed the papers back onto the desk as if discarding something contaminated. "I've clashed with that guy enough times to know his style. If he wants to do something, he either does it openly, in a way you can't refuse, or so subtly you never even realize he was involved."
Ryuuen's mind accelerated, his eyes glinting with predatory calculation. "Seems some vermin crawling out of the woodwork wants to use this as an opportunity to cause trouble for Sakamoto. They're even faster than I am."
"To utilize a second-year as a pawn… this rat likely isn't from our grade." Ryuuen's deduction was swift, cutting. "No first-year has the influence to command a second-year that quickly. The mastermind is upperclassmen."
The conclusion sharpened his annoyance. The second-year was territory he hadn't yet mapped, a blind spot. Now, without provocation, someone from that unknown stratum had reached down, and their target was his own personal benchmark for rivalry—Sakamoto.
"The more you face that guy, the more unfathomable he becomes…" Ryuuen murmured, a complex edge to his voice. "To attract such peculiar enemies from a higher grade… Just how far does his shadow extend?"
His focus returned to the present. He waved a dismissive hand at Shiina and Shiho. "Understood. I'll retain the papers. Return to your studies. Do not discuss this."
Shiina Hiyori offered a slight, acknowledging nod and turned to leave. Shiho Manabe exhaled audibly in relief and hurried after her.
Alone again, Ryuuen's gaze settled on the incriminating stack of papers. Intuition and logic pointed overwhelmingly to a frame job—a clumsy attempt to smear Sakamoto's name. But to move with certainty, he needed confirmation.
He retrieved his phone, his thumb sliding across the screen with deliberate intent. He navigated to a recently added contact: *Hashimoto Masayoshi – Class 1-A*. The self-serving informant who had volunteered tidbits on Class A's internal dynamics, cloaking his agenda in offers of "friendship."
In a situation like this, direct intelligence from within the enemy camp was the most efficient tool. He needed to gauge the depth of these murky waters, to see who, exactly, was trying to stir them.
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