In Class D's classroom, Shimizu Akira scrutinized today's intel:
[1. Last night, Horikita Suzune (Class D) accidentally picked expired ingredients from the free pantry. Her homemade lunch today will cause mild diarrhea. During afternoon class, Shimizu Akira will hear her stifling discomfort and receive five icy glares.]
[2. Shiromaru Chihiro (Class B) has harbored special feelings for Ichihōse Honami since orientation.]
[3. Nagumo Miyabi (Class A, 2nd year) will purchase third-year midterm papers tonight at 7:00 PM for 20,000 points.]
(Seriously?! What's this got to do with me?!)
The first bullet nearly made him choke.
(Horikita eats bad food she chose, and I get glared at? I just gave her 100,000 points on Monday—why's she still scrounging freebies?!)
The second was more intriguing.
(Shiromaru's a girl… and so is Ichihōse. So Ichihōse's charm transcends gender?)
(Can girls dating girls find happiness? Well, if there's love, I guess anything's possible. But would Ichihōse accept such a confession?)
The third was critical.
It reminded him of Nagumo's words during his parfait outing with Kushida:
"Leave this to me."
"Wasting points."
Now, Nagumo's "solution" was clear—unified exam procurement.
As de facto ruler of all four second-year classes, he could ban independent purchases, forcing reliance on his centralized supply.
(20,000 points for shared papers—efficient and controlling.)
Nagumo's methods reeked of ruthless pragmatism. Every move orbited one goal: hoarding points.
(Why this obsession? Do points have post-graduation value?)
If so, Nagumo's machinations made perfect sense.
Shimizu texted Chabashira Sae:
"Can points be used after graduation?"
Her reply was brisk:
*"Why always after 8:00 AM? Do I seem like a clock-puncher?"*
Then, the answer:
"Some rich kids buy points with cash. If you've got excess, try off-campus channels."
Shimizu blinked.
(Off-campus trades? How? Students can't contact outsiders. Unless… the school facilitates it?)
(And who'd pay real money for points?)
He realized his pattern—asking at 8:00 AM sharp (when intel refreshed)—had tipped her off.
Chabashira added:
"Not scolding you. You can ask after work hours too."
Shimizu stiffened.
(Since when do teachers offer overtime Q&A?)
[Shimizu]:Then what's the cost?
[Chabashira]:None. I'm your homeroom teacher. Last month, you said you wouldn't meddle in class affairs, and I accepted that. Beyond paid intel, I've told you everything I could. Just know—compared to others, you can try trusting me.
The words stunned him.
He'd expected quid pro quo—this school's default currency.
Yet Chabashira's offer was unconditional, a blunt plea for trust that left him unnerved.
It felt like being handed unlabeled candy—sweet but suspicious.
("Compared to others"? Who's "others"?)
The phrasing gnawed at him.
His only recent "exception" was bypassing her to rent surveillance from Horikita Manabu.
(Does she know?)
Still, Chabashira had been unusually accommodating since his "no meddling" declaration.
(Maybe… try trusting her?)
[Shimizu]:Thanks, Chabashira-sensei. Understood.
If she kept this up, staying in Class D wasn't bad.
If not?
(I'll bolt at the first red flag.)