A Simple Life in the Classroom of the Elite

I sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes with a yawn.

While I barely got any sleep, I didn't just waste my time reading—no matter how interesting Shiina's book recommendations turned out to be.

I also went through the folder Chabashira-san had given me. It didn't contain anything groundbreaking, but it was still useful.

Along with the basic information on Class D's students, it also included their exam scores, giving me insight into their strengths and weaknesses in each subject.

"This should make things easier…I hope."

With this, I could group everyone strategically, ensuring that each student had a chance to improve in their weaker subjects.

Of course, that still left students who were struggling across the board—Sudo, Ike, and Yamauchi being the biggest concerns. I'd have to give that some extra thought.

But even so, among all of them, one stood out among the rest.

And most likely the real reason for why Chabashira-san handed me the folder.

It's not that I didn't expect it, but when I saw his results, I had to pause, pace around the room, and seriously question the absurdity of it all.

"Why, out of all possible choices, would Ayanokoji deliberately score exactly fifty on every subject?"

"How do you even manage to do that consistently!?"

I shook my head, knowing that dwelling on it would only give me a headache.

From what I'd observed, Ayanokoji wanted to appear as an average student. But these perfectly balanced scores already set him apart the moment he enrolled.

'Did he not realize that? Or...does he simply not care?'

Even with this question in mind, I couldn't waste more time obsessing over Ayanokoji. I had something more immediate to deal with.

…

As I walked toward the girls' dormitory, planning to help transport the meals, a lingering thought nagged at me.

'What if some of my classmates didn't follow through on our agreement?'

There were plenty of unique personalities in Class D—who was to say they wouldn't just take the meals and refuse to pay?

That's when I recalled my proposal to Kusunoki-san. To prevent anyone from getting swindled, we had made a contract.

But I needed to confirm something first—could students even make binding contracts between themselves?

Pulling out my phone, I quickly dialed Chabashira-san's number. The call rang several times before she finally picked up.

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice hoarse.

"Did I wake you up?" I asked curiously.

"I don't think it matters anymore. Just get to the point." She replied, irritation laced in her tone.

'Well, someone's grumpy…then again, that is probably my fault.'

"I have a question." I said, getting straight to it. "Since contracts can be made on campus, does that mean the school has complete authority over enforcing them?"

There was a brief pause before she responded, her voice tinged with mild surprise. "Why do you ask?"

"I want to make sure everyone in class follows through with our initiative, so I thought about having them sign a contract. That way, they'll have to pay up." I kept my tone casual.

Chabashira-san was silent for a moment. Then, she simply said, "The rules apply to everyone on campus." And with that, she hung up.

I stared at my phone, blinking. 'Couldn't she have just given me a straight answer?'

I sighed at my teacher's roundabout way of handling things.

Still, at least now I had a way to make sure we got paid.

…

As I waited at the dormitory's reception, a familiar voice called out.

"Ryuto!"

I turned to see Ichinose approaching with her usual bright smile.

"What are you doing here?" She asked curiously.

"Waiting for the others." I replied. "What about you?"

"I wanted to pick up a few things before classes start." She said, though I noticed something off about her demeanor. She was shifting slightly, almost fidgeting.

I narrowed my eyes. "Ichinose…are you okay?"

"Huh?" She blinked, then gave an embarrassed smile. "You actually noticed? That's really impressive."

"Flattery won't distract me. What's wrong?" I smirked teasingly, but I was genuinely curious.

She sighed, lacing her fingers behind her back. "Today's the interview for the student council. So many students are applying—I can't help but feel a little nervous."

I quickly pieced together the problem. "Are you worried you won't be selected?"

She hesitated before nodding. "It's a part of it. I know there are students more qualified than me…but losing the chance to help others? That's what bothers me."

For a brief moment, it felt like Ichinose was glowing. There was something almost overwhelming about her kindness—like it was ingrained in her very being.

'Just where does all this selflessness come from…?'

I pushed the thought aside and refocused. "You shouldn't think like that. The student council is meant to assist students, right? How many people could be better suited for that than you?"

"I don't know about that…" She smiled sheepishly. "Besides, the student council seems to value individual strength too, and that's not exactly my strong suit."

I shrugged. "Even if they reject you, it's their loss. Either way, you'll keep helping people, won't you?"

"Of course!" She clenched her fist in determination.

"Then why worry? Whether you get the position or not, you'll still be you."

Ichinose froze for a second, then gave a small smile."I guess you're right. Not getting in isn't the end of the world."

A silence settled between us. Then, suddenly, Ichinose perked up.

"By the way, I think what you're doing is great too!" She said cheerfully. "Spending so much time making meals for your classmates is really kind of you!" She paused for a beat before adding, "And the other girls helping, of course!"

I scratched the back of my head, a little embarrassed. "Thanks, but it's not a big deal."

"Still, I think it's admirable." She insisted. Then, her expression turned slightly serious. "Though, I have to warn you—leaving meals in the communal kitchen might not be the best idea."

I frowned. "Why?"

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Yesterday, I overheard some girls saying they wanted to try the food you made. They were saying that taking a piece or two wouldn't hurt."

I blinked. "For real?"

"Hmhm. But don't worry, I kept my eye on them, and they didn't try anything!" She puffed her chest proudly.

"Thank you." I chuckled with a small smile.

But it was true that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I'd been so focused on execution that I hadn't considered how people might take advantage of it.

'Guess that's what happens when you put a plan together in just a day…'

"Thanks for the heads-up, Ichinose." I said sincerely.

"No problem! That's the duty of a non-student council member!" She declared proudly.

We both laughed, but deep down I knew, doubts still clouded her mind.

…

"Thanks, Yosuke." I said, taking the neatly stacked contracts from him.

After leaving the dormitory, I had contacted him, knowing he was usually at the school by this hour.

"No problem. Just glad to help." He chuckled but then hesitated, giving an uncertain smile. "Though…isn't it a little early for this? We don't know if they're truly against paying."

"That's exactly why we do this." I shrugged, securing the papers under my arm. "If they're on board, they won't care about signing. If they're not…well, that tells us everything we need to know."

Yosuke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess…" He clearly wanted the class to be united, but we couldn't be overly lenient.

With that, we waited till launch break began so we could hand over the contracts.

"How do you plan to introduce this to everyone?" Yosuke asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Simple." I tapped the pile of papers in my hand. "I'll explain that this is just a formality to ensure fairness. No pressure, no threats—just a way to keep things running smoothly."

Yosuke nodded, though his lips pressed together in a thin line. "I hope it goes that way."

The two of us stepped to the front. I then clapped my hands together.

"Alright, everyone, listen up for a second."

The murmur of conversations faded slightly as eyes turned toward me. I waited just long enough to ensure I had their attention before continuing.

"I appreciate everyone helping out with the meal plan. To make things more organized, we have a simple agreement for each participant to sign. This just ensures that the payments go through fairly and that no one tries to take advantage."

As expected, a few students immediately reacted.

"Hah? You're making us sign contracts for food?" Ike blurted out. "Isn't that a little much?"

"Not really." I replied smoothly. "It's just a way to keep things fair."

Yukimura leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "So what happens if someone doesn't sign?"

I met his gaze. "Nothing. But it also means they won't get any food from our service."

That got a reaction. Some students exchanged glances, clearly reconsidering.

Kushida, ever the peacekeeper, gave a reassuring smile. "I think it's a good idea. This way, there's no confusion or misunderstandings later on."

"Exactly." Yosuke chimed in. "It's not about distrust—just making sure everything stays fair and organized."

Seeing that Kushida and Yosuke, two of the most trusted students in class, were on board, the tension in the room eased. One by one, students came forward, glancing over the document before signing.

Still, some hesitated.

"Oi, oi, isn't this too serious?" Yamauchi muttered under his breath, nudging Ike. "What's next, a written agreement for borrowing pencils?"

"Nobody's forcing you." I said calmly. "But if you don't sign, you're out. Simple as that."

Ike groaned dramatically but grabbed a pen and signed anyway. Yamauchi hesitated for another second before begrudgingly doing the same.

Once everyone who intended to participate had signed, I gathered the documents and placed them neatly into my bag.

"Thanks, everyone. This makes things a lot easier." I gave a small smile, now ready to pass on their meals.

Overall, the contract itself was simple.

Those in charge of cooking had to complete their duties every day.

The rest of the students were required to pay on time—no exceptions.

To make the operation look less suspicious, I wasn't the only one receiving points. While I took the daily profits, others—like Kushida and Yosuke—handled repayment for ingredients, which would be reinvested to keep the cycle going.

With the financial flow spread across multiple people, the school would hopefully either lose interest or find it too messy to track properly.

With everything set into motion, I finally allowed myself to relax. I slumped back into my chair, overlooking the class.

But deep down, I knew this break wouldn't last long. The upcoming exam problem hadn't even been addressed yet.

I exhaled slowly. 'No wonder Dad always looks exhausted. Working is awful.'

Before I could sink further into my thoughts, Koenji's voice rang out.

"Don't tell me you're already burned out from this?" He chuckled, lounging against his desk. "What shall you do in the future?"

"Nothing, hopefully." The words slipped out before I could stop them. I immediately regretted it.

Koenji smirked. "Nothing isn't befitting of people like us."

I raised an eyebrow. "Like us?"

"Of course. We were born for greatness. That's something you can't deny." He spread his arms in exaggerated arrogance.

"I don't think I'm anything great right now." I scoffed. There were still too many flaws within me.

"True. But striving for more is only natural. Even reaching half of my perfection would already be impressive." His smirk widened. "I thought our past meetings would inspire you after seeing someone as great as me. But I failed to account for the pressure my mere presence placed on you."

I stared blankly as he continued inflating his ego.

But despite the ridiculous delivery, I got the message.

I couldn't help but smile slightly. Koenji might not show it, but deep down, he cared.

Or at least, that's how I chose to interpret it.

…

After finally finishing classes, I felt the need to relax. I wandered around the campus for a while, but eventually, I gravitated toward what I considered a second home…the gym.

Pretty sad, I know, but it always helped me clear my mind and burn off whatever thoughts were cluttering it up.

The gym was impressive—one of the most advanced I'd ever seen. Its size and quality made it clear that the school had high expectations for its students' physical prowess.

For a moment, I wondered if I should convince the rest of the class to join me. But then, I quickly dismissed the thought.

'They wouldn't come without a clear motive, and it would just be a hassle to try and convince them. Plus, this place is my peace. I don't need to ruin that.'

Shutting my mind down before it could spiral into any other thoughts, I stepped inside.

There were a few students scattered around, but it wasn't crowded. After leaving my stuff in a locker and changing, I wandered through the gym, only to notice that half of it was completely empty.

Curiously, I glanced over at the people who seemed to be avoiding the other side of the gym like the plague.

Walking toward the other half, I quickly understood why. There, standing in the middle of the floor, was none other than the student council president himself, warming up.

Even as he stretched and prepared, his cold demeanor kept everyone at a distance.

I couldn't help but observe him, but as soon as he felt my gaze, his head snapped toward me, his eyes piercing through me like a dagger.

'Does this guy have eyes in the back of his head?' I thought, knowing I had two choices now. Turn around and leave while looking like a fool, or double down and approach him.

'He's Horikita's brother... It shouldn't be that big of a deal.' I rationalized, walking forward.

"Uhm, sorry for staring. I was just curious about what kind of person the student council president is.l" I said, raising my arms innocently as I extended a hand toward him.

"I'm—"

"Sakayanagi Ryuto. I know." He interrupted coldly.

"You do…?" I blinked, surprised.

"Of course. It's only natural to know the name of the one who entered my class for unknown reasons." He stated matter-of-factly, continuing to study me with that calculating gaze.

'Oh, right…I forgot about that,' I thought, slightly embarrassed.

"From what Masaki has told me, you sold your act well enough, considering he didn't even realize it." The president added, narrowing his eyes slightly.

I cringed internally, remembering how I'd pretended to be a second-year student during my initial visit. 'Great, now I'm on his radar.' I thought.

"I just wanted more information about the school. I did the same when I visited the second years." I explained, trying to defuse the tension.

He nodded indifferently. "I'm aware of Class D's recent activities." His tone was impassive, his eyes never leaving me.

"Ah, right. Your sister's there, I guess that makes sense." I said, but he paused, just slightly, at my words.

'Did I say something wrong?' I wondered, unsure of the shift in his demeanor.

"Are you familiar with Suzune?" He suddenly asked, his gaze sharpening.

"Well…we talk." I replied, giving a vague answer.

"I see…" His eyes lingered, as if he were assessing something beyond what I had said.

Not wanting the conversation to hit an awkward pause, I tried to keep it going. "I heard interviews for the student council were held today. Is it already over?"

"That's right." His reply was short, almost dismissive.

"Did anyone catch your attention?" I asked, curious to see if Ichinose had made an impression.

"Divulging the results of individual students is prohibited." He responded flatly, before adding, "However, no one met the necessary criteria."

I frowned at his words. 'Is everything in this school said in a roundabout way?''

Despite my irritation, I couldn't help but think about how Ichinose had really wanted to join. I hoped that my words had helped her, but I knew that wasn't enough on its own.

"Is there anything else?" Horikita asked, cutting through my thoughts with his detached gaze.

"Not really…although, mind if I train with you? I'm curious to see what the student council president is capable of." I suggested, realizing I hadn't come to him with a specific goal in mind.

"Acting without purpose is meaningless. If you intend to waste time, find someone else." He turned away, resuming his exercises.

'This guy really knows how to shut things down.' I frowned, but my curiosity got the better of me.

"Does everything need to be done with a purpose?" I asked, genuinely interested.

He didn't respond, continuing his exercises with that same cold expression.

'Now I see the resemblance between the siblings,' I thought, comparing him to his sister. Both of them had that same impenetrable front.

Glancing at him, I couldn't help but feel a small pang of irritation bubbling up inside me. Maybe it was because he'd brushed me off so easily, or maybe it was just my competitive nature acting up. Whatever it was, I found myself doing the exact same exercises, but pushing myself harder, mimicking his movements and upping my sets just a little more than necessary.

It was childish, I knew. But something about the way he carried himself made it impossible for me not to mess with him, just a little.

For a while, he said nothing, continuing his routine as though I didn't exist. But after the third or fourth time I pushed myself beyond his limit, he spoke.

"Do you always waste your energy on meaningless displays?"

I was midway through a set when I shot back, "What, can't handle the competition?"

He didn't glance at me. "Competition is only valuable when it serves a purpose. You lack one."

His words hit hard, and I huffed. "Again, does that really matter?"

He didn't respond immediately, instead returning to his workout with a slight, unreadable expression.

Then he spoke again, cutting through the silence. "What is your goal?"

I blinked. "Goal?"

"You've already disrupted the balance of Class D. You deciphered the school's rules faster than most. There must be a reason for doing this. So I ask again—what is your goal?"

I was caught off guard by the question. "Reaching Class A." I replied automatically, as if it were the obvious answer.

He remained silent for a moment, his piercing gaze unflinching.

I clicked my tongue. "You don't believe me?"

"You claim to aim for Class A, yet your conviction seems to hold little value. Are you simply running forward for the sake of movement?"

The question came as sharp as a blade, hitting me harder than I expected.

"Alright, fine. I don't have any grand purpose. I said Class A because it's what most people want."

"So you simply follow the path of others?" His voice was cold, dismissive. "It seems I overestimated you. Everything you've done until now must have been simply due to an external force."

That stung, and I felt my irritation rise. "I just do what I feel like." I muttered, my patience wearing thin. "Is that so wrong?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he resumed his workout, unfazed. "Then you will eventually hit a limit. Those who act without a clear purpose are easily controlled by those who do."

I exhaled sharply, feeling the weight of his words sink in. "Geez, you really know how to kill a mood."

"A mood is irrelevant." He replied flatly, as if he were simply stating a fact.

I frowned, but instead of letting it get to me, I smirked.

"You say that, but you're still talking to me."

He paused for a fraction of a second, then continued without further acknowledgment.

"Without a clear intent in your actions, you won't become anything worth noticing."

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. "Doesn't that just show how much more room I have to grow?"

Still, there was no reply.

I exhaled, picking up my weights again. This time, I didn't push myself further than necessary.

…

After finishing my workout, I found myself wandering through the campus, my mind heavier than my exhausted limbs. The president's words lingered.

"What is your goal?"

I answered instinctively—Class A. It was the easy answer, the one that made the most sense on the surface. But was it really mine? Or was I just picking the safest option, the one that wouldn't make me look aimless?

I sighed, leaning against a bench and staring at the sky.

That conversation shouldn't have gotten under my skin, but it did.

It wasn't that I cared about what he thought. It was the way his words scraped against something inside me.

'Why was I doing this?'

When I first arrived at this school, I had no intention of standing out. And yet, I now forced myself directly into the spotlight.

But for what?

I closed my eyes, exhaling. The truth was, I wasn't chasing something. I was running—from what, I wasn't sure.

Maybe it was the version of myself that had once been satisfied with staying stagnant. The one who avoided struggle, who never took anything seriously. That weakness…I didn't want to stand it anymore.

My sister saw it. My father saw it. They knew I had been holding myself back. And now that I'd realized it too, going back wasn't an option.

I didn't have some grand dream or ambition. But I knew I couldn't let myself stay still again.

A faint smirk tugged at my lips.

The president said movement without purpose was meaningless. Maybe that was true.

I didn't know what my purpose would be. Maybe I would soon find it, or maybe it was always in front of me. But I had a feeling that eventually, it would make itself known.

So for now, moving forward—even without a destination—was enough.

.....

Points amount: 108.500