The rankings caused ripples across the school.
Delta Class—long considered dead weight—had placed second in the survival test. Above Gamma. Even above Beta, who had cracked under pressure.
Alpha still dominated. But the shift had been enough to spark interest. Whispers in the halls. Rumors online.
In the Delta classroom, the mood had changed.
Skepticism turned into curiosity. Students who once slouched now sat upright. The name "Kanzaki Reina" carried weight. And beside her, always silent, was Renji—the ghost with no ranking, no voice, no presence.
No one noticed how often her decisions mirrored his quiet suggestions.
Reina stood at the center of the class that morning, arms folded.
"We're not finished," she said. "One fluke doesn't mean anything. The other classes are already analyzing us. If we want to survive the next test, we need to be unpredictable."
"But we're weak," someone muttered. "We can't fight like Alpha or organize like Beta."
"We have freedom," Reina shot back. "No one expects anything from us. That's our advantage."
She was learning. And Renji, seated beside her, said nothing. But a small flicker in his eyes gave him away. He was pleased.
Miss Aira entered late. She wore her usual distant expression, but her eyes scanned the room with precision.
"There will be a small group task today," she said. "One hour. Five students per group. You'll be given a case study—a real event from the school's past. Your job is to propose a response plan. I'll choose which solution is best."
Groans filled the room.
"Form your own groups," she added. "Freedom of choice."
Reina immediately moved. Three students followed her.
Renji didn't move. He waited. Eventually, a voice spoke beside him.
"Want to join us?"
Renji turned to see Kurama Yuuto—lean, messy hair, rebellious smile. He sat with his feet up on the desk, not even pretending to care about decorum. Two others had already drifted to him: an awkward boy and a quiet girl.
Renji nodded.
Kurama grinned. "Didn't think you'd say yes."
"I didn't," Renji replied. "I just didn't say no."
The case study was brutal.
"A Gamma student was caught cheating. The teacher knew but gave them a second chance in exchange for silence about the school's internal corruption. The student later blackmailed the teacher, resulting in a suicide. What should have been done?"
Kurama whistled. "Damn. That's dark."
The awkward boy muttered, "There's no good answer..."
"Exactly," Renji said.
He leaned back in his chair.
"They're not testing ethics. They're testing instinct. Who do we protect? Who do we blame? How do we justify it?"
Kurama raised an eyebrow. "And what's your answer?"
Renji scribbled a brief sentence on the paper:
Expose both parties anonymously. Leverage chaos. Reform policy from the fallout.
The others stared.
"You're serious?" the girl asked.
"That way, the school is forced to change without any student being directly blamed," Renji said. "It protects the weak and punishes the corrupt system."
Kurama grinned. "You're colder than I thought. I like it."
Miss Aira reviewed the proposals one by one. Reina's team proposed an honor code policy. Another group wanted surveillance. Then she reached Renji's. She read it silently. Her fingers paused. Then she looked up.
"This answer… doesn't show compassion."
A few students scoffed. Miss Aira smiled faintly.
"But it shows understanding." She placed it on the desk. "This is the one I choose."
Whispers broke out. Reina's expression darkened.
Renji blinked slowly, unreadable. Kurama gave him a lazy thumbs-up. And Miss Aira, she glanced once more at Renji, then continued the lesson.
That night, on the school forum, another anonymous post appeared:
"Delta Class wins again? Is Kanzaki Reina smarter than her cousin?"
The replies were instant. Divided. Furious.
"Erina-sama is untouchable.""Reina's just lucky.""No way she beat Beta and Gamma.""There's someone behind her..."
Renji watched the chaos from his dorm. He wrote another post.
"Reina is playing a deeper game. Delta Class is rising."
He clicked "send"—then powered off the screen.
Outside his window, the city glittered. But inside his room, there was only silence.
Elsewhere, in the Alpha wing, Kanzaki Erina stood on the rooftop, wind fluttering her coat.
She held a printed screenshot of the forum in one hand. In the other, a student dossier: Tachibana Renji. She remembered their meeting. The emptiness in his voice. The lack of ambition in his eyes. Or so it seemed.
But now… he was moving.
"You're not chasing power," she whispered. "You're testing the system."
She tucked the paper away and looked toward the Delta wing.
"I'll play your game, Renji."
The next morning brought another surprise.
Each class received an assignment: Peer Evaluation Reports. Each student had to grade three others on leadership, adaptability, and trustworthiness. Points would affect weekly rankings.
"Of course," Reina muttered. "Another manipulation test."
Miss Aira clarified the rules.
"You may rate anyone. Scores will be compared against behavior logs and activity data. We're testing not just how you see others—but how you see yourself."
Kurama snorted. "So they're setting us up to lie."
"Or to betray," Renji murmured.
He already knew how he'd approach it.
Rate one ally high. One enemy low. One neutral unpredictably.
Create noise. Disrupt patterns. Hide intent.
As expected, Reina topped Delta again. But a strange anomaly occurred—Renji's name appeared, ranked #5, even though no one saw him submit anything.
Miss Aira said nothing. Renji stared at the screen. He hadn't submitted a form. Then he noticed something. The phrasing of one student's review—exactly how he'd once written an anonymous post.
Someone was impersonating him. A new player had joined.
That afternoon, Reina cornered Renji after class.
"You're hiding something," she said.
He glanced at her.
"So are you."
"I've been watching you," she said. "Every time I make a decision, you're already one step ahead. Why?"
"I'm not ahead. I'm just not in your way."
She frowned.
"Don't underestimate me."
"I don't."
He turned to walk away.
"But others will," he added softly. "That's your greatest weapon."
That evening, the hallway lights flickered. Renji entered the library, silent as a shadow. In the farthest corner, surrounded by ancient records, he found her.
Miss Aira, she sat alone, sipping tea, reading a book on wartime propaganda.
"You knew I didn't submit that form," he said.
She closed the book.
"I know many things I don't say."
"Who submitted it?"
"I suspect Erina. But that's just my theory."
He leaned against the shelf.
"Why are you helping me?"
She looked at him, calm and clear.
"I'm not. I'm watching you. There's a difference."
Silence stretched between them.
Then she added, "You don't need to fight the system head-on, Renji. It eats its enemies. You'll do more damage from the inside."
He nodded.
"I plan to."