"My class is… C, huh."
I'm Mio Ibuki. Starting today, I'm a new student at this Advanced Nurturing High School.
This school boasts a terrifying 100% university admission and employment rate, has an outstanding record of sending students to top universities, and is famous for its many club activities—truly excelling in both academics and athletics. Above all, it's a completely outlier institution run directly by the government.
If you look up its graduates, almost every one is someone whose name you've heard at least once on television.
So yeah, with a school this impressive, my future should turn out pretty good, right? That was part of the reason, plus the fact that I'd get to live on my own, so I chose this place, took the exam, and somehow passed. I'd drifted here on a pretty hazy feeling. And today—finally—the entrance ceremony.
Still… being completely alone does make me a little uneasy.
I decide to head straight to the dorms to drop off my stuff.
There should be some girls in the classroom, at least. Even someone like me—who's bad with people—should be able to make a few friends. With that optimistic thought, I start moving.
Lingering on long inner monologues isn't like me at all. The best thing is to just hurry to the classroom.
"You dropped this."
A voice came from behind me.
I reflexively whipped around, nearly launching a flying kick.
I do know a bit of martial arts, after all. I'm confident in my physical ability, and I'm pretty sure I could easily beat the average guy in a fight.
And yet… I hadn't noticed someone right behind me at all?
It might sound arrogant, but normally you'd sense if someone was there.
Yet I completely failed to detect the presence of this idiot with the ridiculously long hair standing in front of me.
Wait—what? He's holding my handkerchief. Why the hell does he have it?
I snatch it back from the long-haired guy, and the memory suddenly clicks. Right—he did say, "You dropped this."
I'd been a little flustered and wasn't thinking straight.
If I leave it like this, I'll come off as a total bitch. A bit late, but I should at least thank him.
"…Thank you."
The long-haired guy didn't say anything in particular—just gave a slight nod.
I know it's rich coming from me, but this guy is way too aloof… His expression doesn't change at all, and what's with that hair? Isn't the usual thing for a high school debut to cut it short!?
And since he's heading the same direction as me—
"…Hey, you're in Class C, aren't you?"
He answers with a nod.
I'm stuck in the same class as this guy? This doesn't bode well. I vent pretty freely in my head.
Hair that long is bound to draw attention, I tell myself, shifting the blame.
But seriously, ignoring hair like that would be weirder.
Maybe I should just ask? Leaving it unmentioned somehow feels rude…
"Is it my hair?"
Noticing my obvious staring, the black-haired boy poses the question.
I flinch for a split second at his directness, then carefully respond so it doesn't come out as an insult.
"…You're a guy, right? It's just abnormally long, so it surprised me a little."
Did that come out too blunt? I wait nervously for his reply—this is my first real conversation in this new environment.
Yeah, I really am bad with people… Having to tiptoe around like this is exhausting.
"I simply let it grow without cutting it; this is the result."
Oh, good—he doesn't seem bothered. But "let it grow"? What!? Cut it! Do a proper high school debut! If I were in your position, I'd have chopped it off immediately!
His casual answer shifts my mood into something strangely irritated.
"Let it grow… You're pretty weird. That hair has to be annoying."
"One grows accustomed to it. It poses no issue."
Such eccentric guy. But he doesn't seem like a bad person.
It'd be easier to have someone to talk to at first, so I decide to ask his name while the thought's there.
"What's your name?"
"Name?"
"We're definitely going to be in the same class for at least a year, so we might as well introduce ourselves early, right?"
His voice is utterly flat. It wouldn't be strange to feel like I'm talking to a robot—so devoid of emotion.
This encounter with him was the beginning.
My connection with this boy would go on to greatly influence my high school life over the next three years.
...
The entrance ceremony and the explanation from our homeroom teacher are over. The system here is unusual, but I never imagined we'd get 100,000 points.
And what that guy Ryuuen said is bothering me too.
Well, I'll just have to ask this long-haired guy when we talk. He's probably smarter than me anyway.
With that sloppy line of thinking, I'm currently heading back to the dorms.
Not alone—I'm walking side by side with that long-haired weirdo.
I'd thought talking to him might be interesting, but honestly, that was a mistake.
He's not just weird—he's super weird.
His expression never changes, he only says the bare minimum, and on top of that, he reads my thoughts with scary accuracy. It feels like he's peeking inside my head, which is honestly pretty irritating.
Still, if I want to confirm the school rules, there's no choice but to put up with the small stuff.
There's a bit of distance from the school gate to the dorms—though according to the map, it's only a few minutes.
And yet… there's something I need to say right now.
It's been about two minutes since we started walking, and this guy hasn't said a single word!
Didn't he say something about talking a little?
I'm bad at conversation too, you know.
Cursing my own poor communication skills, I complain silently in my head—but the impatience finally wins out, and I act.
"Hey, weren't we supposed to talk a bit?"
The long-haired guy turns his gaze toward me without changing his expression at all.
Still as unsociable as ever, I think—then he immediately responds.
"Ibuki-san, do you believe the school can afford to give 100,000 yen per month to 40 students per class across four classes for three full years?"
"…Probably not. No matter how much it's government-run, that's 16 million yen a month, and over three years it'd be more than 500 million gone. And that's just our grade—if you factor in the upperclassmen…"
"It isn't realistic. Even for a government-operated high school, this amount is excessive. Therefore, it is reasonable to assume there is something behind the 100,000-point allowance."
As I expected.
And lucky for me—I couldn't have thought this broadly or convincingly on my own.
But…
"Why couldn't Sakagami-sensei answer that guy Ryuuen's question?"
"You have surprisingly sharp intuition."
"…What's with that surprised face… oh, wait, no face at all. Still completely expressionless."
This guy's facial muscles must be dead…
"My facial muscles rarely move, so it's understandable you'd think they're dead."
"Stop reading my mind! It's creepy."
"That aside, let's return to the topic about 'why he couldn't answer.' Frankly, there's too little information to reach a conclusion."
Obviously. If anyone could figure it out from just that, I'd seriously question if they were human.
"However, we can still speculate based on what we do know."
I immediately look at Kamukura's face. It's the same blank expression as before, but that doesn't matter.
He clearly stated that speculation is possible.
Whether his guess is right or wrong is irrelevant.
The answer from this guy… is worth hearing.
An answer derived from a thought process completely different from mine—one I could never arrive at myself.
That alone makes it valuable.
"This school has far too many surveillance cameras. It's as if we're in a prison—every corner of the campus is monitored around the clock."
"…Yeah, I've noticed a few even on this walk back."
"Then why the need for surveillance? Likely so the school can respond quickly when problems arise."
"With this many cameras, it would be obvious at a glance when, where, who, what, how, and why something happened."
Kamukura continues.
"And that includes classes—no exceptions. In other words, the school is monitoring students via cameras and rigorously evaluating them based on some criteria."
"Evaluating?"
"Yes. For example, classroom behavior or general conduct. I don't know the details, but the school would never openly teach students that they're being evaluated so strictly. Rather, it feels like they're dropping hints and telling us to figure it out."
It's true that Sakagami-sensei's wording had felt off. Once you notice one oddity, everything starts looking suspicious. There's a name for that phenomenon…
"And if they outright told us, even a class full of fools could rack up nothing but 'excellent' marks within those rules—marks that would hold no value. They wouldn't need this many cameras for that."
"To summarize why he couldn't answer: they want to evaluate students in their natural state and quantify it. And I speculate that quantified value is what determines the monthly points."
If he's right, this school truly is a meritocracy… Wait, that's literally its creed. So his guess is pretty on the mark?
I rack my mediocre brain to grasp the situation.
"…What exactly are the evaluation criteria?"
"We'll discern that going forward."
Yeah, fair enough. But still—listening to this guy was definitely worthwhile. Until I get used to this bizarre school, sticking with him seems like the safest bet.
In that case—
"…Hey, want to exchange contact info?"
Wait—come to think of it, this might be the first time I've directly swapped contacts with a guy…
After saying it, the realization hits, and a faint embarrassment washes over me.
"I don't mind."
"You're not reading my thoughts this time."
"Would you like me to?"
"…Gross."
And so, this guy became my first male friend.
...
While talking with Ibuki-san, we somehow arrived at the dorms before I realized it. This school has an unusual setup where the boys' and girls' dormitories are in the same building—lower floors for boys, upper floors for girls.
It would probably be better to separate dorms for teenagers of opposite genders, but honestly, it makes no difference to me. To me, gender is nothing more than a trivial distinction.
We said our goodbyes, and I headed straight to my room inside the dormitory.
The room isn't particularly spacious, but it's more than sufficient for a single high school student.
It contains only the bare essentials for living—a bed, refrigerator, desk, and chair. No cooking utensils or other small appliances.
"Who would have thought even water and electricity are free… They aren't deducted from the 100,000 points."
I had assumed the initial 100,000 points were generous to cover setting up necessities, utilities, or equipment for those joining clubs—some kind of restriction.
That assumption probably isn't wrong. Yet when I cross-reference it with the sheer number of surveillance cameras and Sakagami-sensei's statements, a number of inconsistencies emerge.
"I should probably abandon the idea that points are simply digitized cash."
The time had already passed 1 p.m. Come to think of it, I still hadn't eaten lunch. The timing is good—I'll grab lunch, pick up some daily necessities, and do a little exploring on the side.
I finished listing the essentials and what I needed to buy, then headed out.
.
.
.
I'm back.
Too soon? What are you saying? I was out for about three hours.
Can't you see the bags in both my hands?
Now then, shall I introduce my haul? I bought daily necessities and some things to kill time at the home center and convenience store.
Nothing particularly meaningful, but shopping is indeed best done alone.
I purchased a fair amount, yet my points still have plenty of room.
As expected, 100,000 points is a lot. With that margin, I ended up impulsively buying instant ramen.
Thanks to my chef-level talent, I can cook for myself, so I've never had much connection with the stuff.
Still, I'm a little curious. So I've decided tonight's dinner will be that.
"And then there were those free item corners…"
The words slipped out unconsciously.
Both the convenience store and home center had free item sections. More precisely, even the food court where I ate lunch offered free meals.
To be blunt—it's far too lenient.
These free items are likely a safety net for students with zero points. If someone lost access to points due to an accident, that would make sense—and usage would naturally be low.
Yet there were clearly many users. Especially noticeable at the free meal area. The possibility that everyone there was dieting or saving money is inconceivable from their expressions.
Every face bordered on despair. For that to be coincidence would require astronomical odds.
In other words, there is an extremely high probability that points will decrease for some reason in the future—enough to impact daily life.
"…A lot happened today, so I'll turn in early."
The start of any endeavor brings fatigue.
I'll eat the cup ramen and get to bed quickly.
I lay down on the brand-new plain bed and immediately closed my eyes.
...
The classroom buzzed with lively chatter. From the first day after the entrance ceremony, students had already split into rough groups, each happily conversing within their circles.
As for me—I was alone.
A class is a collective, so naturally there are loners like me. Some students want to join a group but hesitate because it feels too late; others prefer solitude and don't need friends at all. This class has more of the latter, which is somewhat unusual. Even more unusual, there are already pairs that seem to have formed clear leader-follower dynamics.
While thinking about such things, the next teacher had apparently arrived without my noticing.
This is a government-run advanced school, so I had expected extremely high-level lessons—but that doesn't seem to be the case.
Just ordinary classes like any school. Teachers explain the basic educational policy, then proceed at a reasonable pace.
The difference lies in teacher quality. I've had three classes so far, and every teacher is skilled and approachable. They answer questions patiently even from students who struggle academically.
If you listen properly, simply reviewing during class time would build enough knowledge to score high on tests.
Yet there are odd aspects.
For instance, how teachers handle disruptions. Several students were fiddling with phones or sleeping—attitudes wholly inappropriate for class. The teachers never reprimanded them.
That's the strange part.
Instead of scolding, whenever they spotted such behavior, they quietly jotted something on a notepad or clipboard.
I'm starting to understand what this school truly evaluates.
"Class is over. Make sure to review what we covered today."
When the chime rang, the female teacher who had been teaching Japanese history spoke flatly, then left the room with brisk, efficient movements.
As soon as she exited, the classroom grew noisy again.
Class had paused—it was lunch break.
As I said, I'm alone. I have no friends to eat with.
I planned to try the cafeteria today.
I had intended to make bentos to save money, but I wanted to analyze the cafeteria's food quality, prices, and user base, so I decided to go just for today.
Come to think of it, yesterday's cup ramen wasn't exactly delicious—even with flattery.
But it wasn't bad either. Easy to prepare and cheap—I can see why it's popular. The only drawback is health.
Once or twice a month should be the limit. Next time, I might try something called ramen with rice.
And the other varieties—
"Hey, want to have lunch together?"
A girl's voice nearby invited someone to eat with her.
I reflexively glanced toward the voice, thinking I'd been called.
But it was a misunderstanding. The invitation wasn't for me—it was for Ibuki-san in the seat ahead.
A bit of overactive self-consciousness. If I'd reacted more dramatically, I might have drawn strange looks.
"No thanks."
"Really? But isn't food tastier with everyone?"
"…Sorry, I prefer eating quietly. Try someone else."
She rejected it firmly.
The girl glared lightly at Ibuki-san, then walked off. After joining another group of girls, she muttered something under her breath as they headed to the cafeteria.
Well, time for me to hurry there too.
I arrived at the convenience store.
The cafeteria line was so long I'd risk being late for class, so I postponed it to another day.
Thus, bread and free bottled water became today's lunch. Time is tight, so I'll head back to the classroom quickly.
"That cafeteria was way too crowded, Sakayanagi-san."
"Yes. I'm sorry for inconveniencing everyone. Because you all matched my walking pace, we couldn't eat there."
"N-no! It's not your fault at all, Sakayanagi-san!"
"Yeah! Just bad luck, that's all!"
A group of four or five students approached from ahead.
Among them was one girl who clearly carried a different aura—a girl so pale she seemed white overall.
Her hair and skin were so fair it felt as though light radiated from her entire body.
The others around her were boring. No distinctive features, no signs of excellence. No sense of talent.
If I had to pick, perhaps the blond with slicked-back hair whose shirt was unbuttoned to the second button and whose pants were worn sloppily, giving a delinquent vibe. He seemed the most promising in that group.
But the pale girl walking toward me was different.
Her build was petite enough to call her a young girl rather than a woman, yet her exquisitely proportioned face, gentle smile, and refined posture radiated more than enough charm.
Those blue eyes—small like sapphires—were not only beautiful but cold. Above all, they held unshakable confidence.
She walked with a cane, using it to support her body, suggesting some physical disability.
Yet her aura felt nothing like a frail, sickly girl; if anything, it evoked a fierce predator bird of prey.
She continued forward calmly. We would pass each other in moments.
The group chatted happily. I assumed they wouldn't notice me.
As we passed, my eyes met the pale girl's for an instant. In that brief moment, she left a strong impression on me.
What she thought in that instant is irrelevant.
This girl possesses talent. The specific talent is a minor detail. But in the end—that's all it is.
It won't reach me. Therefore—
"Boring."
Bad habits are hard to break. My voice was extremely quiet, but it slipped out. The followers probably didn't hear, but she almost certainly did.
Without looking back, I walked toward the classroom.
I felt a gaze on my back, but lunch was more important.
...
"I have something to announce during today's homeroom. Don't worry—it's just one thing. I'll keep it short, so I won't steal your after-school time."
All classes had ended; it was time for closing homeroom.
When Sakagami-sensei stepped to the podium, the students quieted down.
"What I'll discuss today is additional information about points. Several students asked questions yesterday, so I'll explain here."
"The question was whether it's possible to increase points. The answer is yes. Club activities and the student council are good examples. Good results in a club you join will increase points. The same goes for the student council."
"There will be an orientation for new students soon, so I recommend attending if you're interested in clubs or the student council."
Rewards. This will cause talentless students to join clubs purely for points.
Boring.
"You all seem to have no trouble spending points over the past two days. There's nothing on campus that can't be bought with points, so use them wisely."
"That concludes the explanation. Be careful not to forget anything on your way home. Dismissed."
It really was brief.
And "there's nothing that can't be bought with points"…
I should completely discard the notion that points are merely quantified money.
Well, everyone else is starting to leave, so I'll—
"Hey, Kamukura, you free after this?"
Ibuki-san called out.
What could she want…? Probably to discuss points, but unfortunately, I have plans this afternoon.
"Sorry. I have somewhere to go afterward. I'm going to investigate points a bit."
"Oh? Then can I come along?"
"No. It'll be easier to move alone today. Once I've formed a solid view, I'll share it with you."
"…Fine, got it."
Ibuki-san looked a little put out. She's probably annoyed that I read her intentions.
Very human. That straightforward side is also a virtue.
Time is precious—let's head to my destination quickly.
***
If you want to read up to 25 chapters ahead, don't hesitate to visit our patron: pat reon . com / XElenea (remove space)