After the ceremony, we were assigned to our classroom. The room was painted white and felt luxurious. The polished wooden desks and chairs gleamed under the soft panel lights above. The large square windows let in just enough sunlight to see clearly without glare. The atmosphere was lively but quiet; no one really knew each other yet. Most of my classmates were glued to their phones, while some just lounged carelessly – boys with their feet on the desks and girls scrolling without a care.
I was seated at the back, beside the familiar girl and one of the square windows. I looked around, trying to memorize everyone's faces, but nothing really caught my interest. Everyone just seemed like normal teenagers. Or maybe some hid a darker side we couldn't see yet.
I glanced at her. Her eyes were glued to her phone, her long white hair hiding her expressionless face.
"What?" she suddenly asked, sharp and abrupt.
That somehow caught me off guard. I didn't expect her to see me because her hair covered her eyes. Maybe her peripheral vision was better than I thought. But from her tone, I couldn't tell if she was truly irritated or just pretending.
"What's your name?" I asked.
She turned to me, still holding her phone. One eyebrow rose, as if questioning why I was interested.
"Hmm?" she muttered.
The truth was, I really wanted to know her. After all, for the past two or three months, the only person I'd had contact with was the butler.
"You're not gonna tell me?"
She put her phone down on the desk and crossed her arms, though not tightly.
"What if I didn't?" she asked, looking at me fully for the first time.
I didn't answer right away. It felt like she was testing me, trying to see how I'd react. It was hard to tell if she was serious or just messing around.
"That's a pity... I guess,"
She didn't respond for a moment, as if considering. It felt awkward now, like we were talking in a movie, following a script.
"Does it really matter to you?"
What's up with that question?
"I guess..." I said, looking away and closing my eyes to refresh my mind, unable to deal with this awkward girl who seemed like a devil possessing another person and who wouldn't just tell her name right away. I wondered if she also felt awkward. It seemed like she was too clueless to notice how awkward she was right now.
"Hmm... guess I'll tell you." She looked aside, brushing a hair behind her ear to keep her eyes on me from the corner. She took a deep breath.
"Shirogane, Aya,"
Aya Shirogane. The name's tone sounds cute, but the one who wears it is always irritated and glum. Oh shoot. I accidentally badmouthed her. Sorry... sorry... sorry...
I apologized to her in my brain.
"Aya... Shirogane," I repeated.
"Yeah..." she nodded, looking at me. "What's your name?" Her tone softened a bit, sounding genuinely curious now, and her expression relaxed a little.
Now she's asking me… maybe it's time for some payback.
"Hmm, why do you sound curious all of a sudden?" I asked.
She tensed up, her expression sharpening.
"Idiot… stop acting like me. I told you my name, and you won't say yours?" Her voice was sharp once more.
"Looks like you don't like being teased back," I said flatly, taking a deep breath. I opened my eyes and turned toward her.
"Hoshigami, Kyouji,"
Suddenly, a young woman holding a folder, stepped into the classroom and caught everyone's attention. Her long black hair was tied neatly behind her, and she walked with a confident pace toward the instructor's desk. Her sharp gray eyes scanned the room before she stopped and cleared her throat.
"Good morning," she said, her voice steady but not cold. "I'm Ishikawa, Kaede. I'll be your homeroom teacher for the next three years."
Kaede Ishikawa. Her name suited her. Nothing about her looked overly strict. Seems like a person that do things intentionally or necessarily.
She continued, setting her folder down on the desk. "This school doesn't work like others. It follows a system called the Advancement Protocol. Whether you're here to chase a dream or just survive, it's something you can't ignore."
She reached into her dark blazer and pulled out a black pen, turning to the whiteboard and writing as she spoke.
"The Advancement Protocol is built around ten core subjects. These subjects are used to evaluate you, not just as a student, but as a future member of society. Everything you do here, everything you achieve or fail to, is measured by these."
She listed them as she wrote.
"First, Advanced Mathematics. It's less about solving equations and more about how you approach problems logically and efficiently."
She paused before continuing.
"Next is Strategic Literature. It's not about reading for fun. You'll study how language is used to persuade, manipulate, and lead."
"Third, Philosophical Ethics. Here, you'll debate ideas. Right and wrong won't be so simple. We'll challenge how you think."
"Fourth, Societal Simulation. You'll be placed in controlled scenarios, virtual and real meant to test your decisions, your leadership, and your judgment under pressure."
"Fifth, Communication Dynamics. This is about how well you express yourself, negotiate, and navigate difficult conversations."
"Sixth, Cultural Integration. You'll learn about different societies, values, and how to work with people far different from yourself."
"Seventh, Human Physiology and Psychology. Understanding the body and mind, both your own and others'. Health, stress, instincts, reactions."
"Eighth, Technological Systems. You'll be taught how to use and understand advanced systems, not just computers, but infrastructure and control models."
"Ninth, Physical Advancement. Yes, we take physical fitness seriously. This subject measures discipline, endurance, and control."
"And finally, tenth – Personal Branding. How you carry yourself. How others perceive you. Presentation matters."
She turned back to us and rested the pen on the desk.
"Each subject contributes to your Advancement Score. That score decides your rank in this school. It affects your privileges, your dormitory, your opportunities, and ultimately... your role in society."
"Any questions?"
No one raised their hand. Maybe we all knew better than to speak first.