Part 2 – Strategy and Observation
I don't like welcome ceremonies. Many freshmen seem to feel the same way. The principal's smiles and forced applause don't matter; what's crucial is understanding who will be an ally and who will be an obstacle. Failure at this stage would mean years of disadvantage.
I decided to stay on the sidelines, evaluate and calculate before making my move. The first few days determine a lot, and one mistake can cost you class points, Kurei, or social influence. I mentally practiced ways to approach others: brief conversations, discreet exchange of contact information, evaluation of expressions and gestures. Kurohana Inner City punishes the unprepared.
Upon entering the classroom, I sat near the window, at the back. In front of me, a boy seemed isolated, although it was not wise to approach him without a strategy. Before I could act, someone placed their backpack next to mine: Kaori Hasegawa, the girl I had briefly brushed against on the bus.
"So we're in the same class, huh?" she said. Her tone was serious, direct, measured, as if she were evaluating both the class and me. Her presence indicated that she would be a solid ally if handled correctly.
I don't like welcome ceremonies. Many freshmen seem to feel the same way. The principal's smiles and forced applause don't matter.
Soon after, Professor Manabu Hoshino arrived, strict and calculating. She explained the rules of the Kurohana Point System (KPS): each class started with 10,000 points, which determined reputation, resources, and access to Kurei. Each monthly activity could award or deduct up to 250 points; individual performance adjusted the allocation through a personal CRI: an average of 1 to 12 could deduct up to 10% or add up to 10% to the monthly Kurei bonus.
The students murmured in surprise. Kaori and I exchanged a silent glance: the Kurei seemed abundant, but individual and collective decisions would define who would have resources and who would be limited. For someone like me, observing and calculating every move was more important than rushing to socialize.
During the presentation, I immediately recognized rivals and allies:
Ichika Tsubasa, intellectual rival, evaluating reactions and gauging abilities.
Miyu Fujikawa, social manipulator, smiling strategically, measuring influence.
Daichi Kuroda, athletic and unpredictable, seeking to provoke and test limits.
Renji Morimoto, natural leader, analyzing alliances and the flow of power.
Other students displayed natural charisma, such as Riku Ayanobe, and popularity, such as Taiga Minamoto or Ami Kisaragi. Every gesture, every greeting, was valuable information for future point calculations and Kurei.
When it was my turn, I spoke neutrally:
"Um... I'm Sayuri Akurisawa. There's nothing special about me... I'll do my best to get along with everyone... nice to meet you all.
Cold, brief, strategic. No one would remember my words, but I recorded every reaction, every microexpression. Kaori nodded slightly, evaluating my profile; Ichika watched me with curiosity; Miyu barely smiled, gauging my potential influence.
Silently, I made a quick calculation: with the class at three wins out of four possible activities, our base bonus was 75%. My personal CRI was around 11 points, which meant a +10% on Kurei's total. Every future move could either increase the class's position or reduce our resources. It all depended on anticipating behaviors and managing information.
Surviving the first day was not a social achievement; it was a strategic victory. I observed, analyzed, and was already mentally mapping out the next steps. In Kurohana, reality is not measured in smiles, but in points, Kurei, and intelligent survival.