Previously, Asakusa Tōru had tested the infinite and segmentation functions of the Infinite Recorder.
But beyond that, the Infinite Recorder actually had another effect.
That was the recorder itself.
A recorder that had been taken out would not disappear.
Although it would lose its capacity for infinite recording and revert to what looked like an ordinary recorder, the recorder itself would not vanish when he took out a new one.
In other words, even if he were expelled on the spot and went off to start a recorder company, relying on zero-cost materials and endlessly pulling out new recorders, he could probably make a fortune.
That said, Asakusa Tōru had no intention of doing something as stupid as stuffing a recorder into Ryūen Kakeru's desk drawer and then waiting to retrieve it afterward as leverage.
While he truly didn't think Ryūen Kakeru would check his drawer on the first day of school, just the task of retrieving the recorder afterward would already be troublesome.
After all, the Infinite Recorder's 24-hour continuous recording effect only remained on the most recent "main body" closest to him. Earlier recorders would become independent, ordinary recorders.
So from the very beginning, he had never planned to retrieve the recorder.
Nor had he planned to quietly plant the recorder in Ryūen Kakeru's seat while avoiding the eyes of Ibuki Mio and Shiina Hiyori, who were present.
"..."
A refreshing breeze flowed into the classroom through the open window, lifting the girl's slender strands of hair.
Shiina Hiyori seemed to snap back to her senses, subconsciously turning her head to look at Asakusa Tōru as he entered the classroom.
"Ah." She made a sound, but didn't say anything further, instead turning her gaze away again.
Her delicate, pretty face—devoid of any obvious emotion—made her look more like a living doll, subtly stirring the urge to tease.
Shiina Hiyori had no excess desire for social interaction.
Even earlier, when the classroom had contained only her and Ibuki Mio, the two of them hadn't exchanged a single word.
Therefore, even though it seemed that another classmate had entered this empty classroom, it didn't cause the slightest ripple in her.
Ibuki Mio—who had likewise been assigned to Class C due to shortcomings in social skills—held the same attitude. Drawn only by the sound, she glanced back at Asakusa Tōru as he approached Ryūen Kakeru's seat, then withdrew her gaze, listlessly staring out the window at the gradually increasing number of new students outside.
"Eh..." Seeing their reactions, Asakusa Tōru couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, a hint of surprise appearing on his face.
Without further hesitation, he raised his hand and stuffed the recorder into Ryūen Kakeru's desk drawer.
Then, brazenly, he sat down on Ryūen's desk and lightly tapped the chair in front of him—Shiina Hiyori's chair.
"Morning." Asakusa Tōru raised his hand.
It was early, the sunlight was just right—greeting someone at this moment was perfectly reasonable.
…Or so one might think.
Shiina Hiyori turned her head back in confusion, searching her memory for the name of the classmate who should have been sitting there.
"…Ryūen, classmate?"
"Not quite, Shiina Hiyori." Asakusa Tōru smiled. "I'm not Ryūen."
"Let me formally introduce myself. Class 1-B, Asakusa Tōru."
He extended his hand toward Hiyori.
"..." Shiina Hiyori calmly looked at Asakusa Tōru's smiling face. After hesitating for a moment, she still chose to take the hand he offered. "Class 1-C, Shiina Hiyori."
"Um, Asakusa-kun, this is Class C."
She wasn't particularly surprised that he knew her name. As long as you looked at the nameplate on the desk, anyone could call her by name—just as she had initially mistaken him for Ryūen Kakeru. He had simply glanced at the name on the desk.
But… Class 1-B?
"Ah, I know," Asakusa Tōru said. "That's why I came."
Their hands quickly separated. Naturally, almost the moment his words ended, Asakusa Tōru produced a recorder from his sleeve.
Without the slightest hesitation, he placed the recorder into Shiina Hiyori's palm.
"Shiina-san, let me do a quick interview. What do you think of this school?"
On the recorder's lit-up screen, it was clearly displayed that recording was in progress. The device was unmistakably capturing their conversation.
…An interview?
Shiina Hiyori looked down at the running recorder in her hand, then looked back up at Asakusa Tōru.
"…A 100% employment rate?" She tilted her head slightly and gave an answer that pretty much anyone would give at this moment.
"Only that?"
"Tuition-free?" Faced with Asakusa Tōru's follow-up, Shiina Hiyori blinked.
"…I see." Asakusa Tōru nodded, hopping down from Ryūen Kakeru's desk. "Thanks for your answer. Consider that recorder a gift—keep it. It'll come in handy."
The interview was just a spur-of-the-moment test.
If Shiina Hiyori were a diary reader, then perhaps she might have grown suspicious of the school's seemingly idyllic propaganda due to the zhongzhuan terminology he had used in the diary.
However, after hearing Hiyori's answers, Asakusa Tōru quickly realized he'd overthought it.
It wasn't that the possibility of Hiyori being a reader was ruled out.
It was just that—what could you possibly get out of asking something like this on the very first day of school?!
Well, in any case, his real purpose had never been the interview or finding someone.
Shiina Hiyori hesitated slightly, but still offered her thanks.
"…Thank you?"
What a strange person.
But… it will come in handy?
She stared at the recorder in her hand for a moment, then lightly pressed the stop button and casually put it away.
Immediately afterward, she reopened the diary in her hands while seated.
Zhongzhuan.
Cheat ability.
Kidnapping.
Spoilers.
A game of hide-and-seek.
Casually written words slowly unfolded across the diary's pages. After she gently turned the pages, the diary reached a blank page.
That's right—Shiina Hiyori was a holder of a diary copy.
What others perceived as her "spacing out" was, in essence, simply her flipping through the diary's pages.
Any action that might make others associate her with the diary would be silently transformed into some other behavior.
Including Asakusa Tōru—who had yet to win the game of hide-and-seek and successfully confirm the identity of a copy holder.
"…It hasn't updated yet." Looking at the blank page in the diary, Shiina Hiyori let out a soft sigh in her heart.
Novels were interesting.
Mystery novels were very interesting.
But even more interesting than those—
Was the "story" written by someone who claimed to know their past, present, and future.
...