Sunlight streamed through the store's large windows, illuminating the dazzling array of goods on the shelves.
Advanced Nurturing High School's on-campus store was comparable in size to a small department store, with the air filled with the unique scent of new products and a faint fragrance.
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka pushed a shopping cart, his gaze calmly sweeping over the shelves.
He selected a few basic daily necessities—a towel, a toothbrush, laundry detergent—all mid-priced, practical brands.
For a monthly "living expense" of 100,000 points, these expenditures were negligible, but he was accustomed to being frugal.
"Another annoying coincidence." A cold and distant voice sounded beside him.
Ayanokoji turned.
Horikita Suzune stood by the adjacent shelf, her back straight as a ruler, her cool eyes glancing at him, then moving away, as if looking at him for too long was unnecessary.
In her hand, she held a bottle of the most basic, unscented, colorless shower gel, and in the shopping basket beside her, there was already the cheapest toothbrush and a plain white towel.
"Don't be so wary of me." Ayanokoji's voice was flat and emotionless.
"We'll be desk mates from now on; please take care of me." He paused, his gaze falling on the extremely cheap items in Horikita's shopping basket, then added, "Although we've talked in class, I still don't know your name."
He looked at Horikita, "It wouldn't hurt to tell me your name, would it?"
Horikita's gaze remained on the shelf, her fingertips tracing a row of shower gel bottles, finally returning to the cheapest colorless one.
She picked it up, her voice still sharp: "It's fine if I refuse, isn't it?"
"Desk mates who don't know each other's names," Ayanokoji's tone remained flat, as if stating an objective fact, "is a bit strange."
Horikita's movements paused slightly.
She seemed to be choked by this overly direct, even somewhat clumsy remark, her brow furrowing almost imperceptibly, clearly finding her desk mate not very articulate.
After a few seconds of silence, she spoke coldly, as if completing an unavoidable task: "Horikita Suzune." Having said that, she ignored Ayanokoji and placed the shower gel into her shopping basket.
"Horikita…" Ayanokoji repeated softly.
That name seemed to share a surname with Student Council President Horikita Manabu.
This piece of information flashed quickly through his mind, but his expression remained unperturbed.
His gaze once again swept over the "meager" items in Horikita's shopping basket.
"Since the money's already given," Ayanokoji picked up a bottle of elegantly packaged, subtly scented shower gel from the shelf and offered it to Horikita, "why not try a more expensive one? Experiencing something different isn't bad either."
His tone was flat, as if offering an objective suggestion.
Horikita didn't even look at the bottle in his hand, turning directly with her shopping cart, her voice as cold as ice: "There's no need."
She walked straight towards the checkout, her wine-red school uniform back exuding a stubborn aloofness.
Ayanokoji watched her retreating figure, then looked down at the pleasant-smelling shower gel in his hand, expressionlessly placing it back on the shelf.
He pushed his cart and also headed towards the checkout area.
A not-so-long line formed in front of the checkout counters.
Ayanokoji stood a few steps behind Horikita, his gaze habitually scanning his surroundings.
Just then, his attention was drawn to a figure at the store entrance.
Sakamoto.
Ayanokoji's gaze narrowed slightly.
After seeing him by the window, Ayanokoji had discreetly inquired about his identity—First Year Class A.
Now, he was walking into the store with a composed gait.
He wasn't pushing a shopping cart or carrying a basket, his hands naturally at his sides, his posture as leisurely as if strolling in a garden.
He was still wearing his well-fitted wine-red school uniform, and his gaze behind the black-rimmed glasses calmly swept over the entire store, as if appreciating a moving exhibition.
Ayanokoji's gaze unconsciously followed him.
Sakamoto did not head towards any of the shelves displaying a dazzling array of goods, but instead walked directly to the store's most inconspicuous corner—where a few simple shelves were arranged, displaying items in extremely plain, even crude packaging, with a prominent sign next to them: Free Pick-Up Zone.
Ayanokoji remembered that the "Handbook" mentioned the school provided some basic daily necessities for free, but only the most fundamental, bare minimum items, with extremely limited quality and choice.
Sakamoto stopped in front of the free zone.
He showed no hesitation or embarrassment, elegantly beginning to select items.
He extended his slender fingers, his movements fluid and precise:
He picked up a plain, rectangular white bar of soap, as if picking up a warm jade, his fingertips gently brushing its smooth surface, then with a flick of his wrist, the soap settled steadily into his open left palm.
Next, he picked up the most basic plastic-handled toothbrush, not looking at the bristles, but pinching the middle of the handle with his thumb and forefinger, twirling it elegantly like holding a pen, his movements light and rhythmic.
Finally, he took a bottle of equally unscented, simply labeled clear shampoo.
He didn't grasp the bottle; instead, he cradled the bottom with his index, middle, and thumb, his pinky slightly raised, as if holding a cup of sake.
Having done all this, Sakamoto did not use any container.
His left palm cradled the white soap, his right thumb and forefinger pinched the toothbrush handle, and his middle, ring, and pinky fingers steadily supported the shampoo bottle.
The three free items in his hands were handled with the quality of works of art.
He stood upright, his posture as straight as a pine tree, his gaze behind the black-rimmed glasses calm and unruffled, as if holding priceless treasures, rather than the cheapest basic necessities.
That composure and elegance, in the afternoon sun, created a powerfully striking visual.
Ayanokoji clearly saw that Horikita Suzune, who was ahead in line and about to check out, also seemed to notice the unusual presence behind her.
She tilted her head slightly, her cool eyes glancing towards the free zone.
Upon seeing Sakamoto and the three free items in his hands, a highly complex ripple of emotion crossed Horikita's eyes— She also learned that this strangely behaving boy was from Class A, and when her gaze met Sakamoto's almost artistic way of holding the items, an indescribable shock.
Or rather, was it a speechless feeling, overwhelmed by that self-evident elegance? Her fingers, gripping the edge of her shopping basket, tightened slightly, and her lips moved, as if she wanted to ask something.
But she ultimately did not speak.
Sakamoto seemed to have completed his "shopping."
He did not walk towards the checkout, nor did he pay attention to anyone's gaze.
He turned slightly, his gaze calmly sweeping over the checkout area, as if merely confirming his direction.
Then, he stepped forward, walking directly towards the store exit.
His steps remained steady and fluid, each one seemingly measured, his arms swinging naturally, his shoulders and back straight.
With the soap in his left palm and the brush and bottle held in his right hand, his posture showed no awkwardness, but rather a leisurely grace.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, outlining his tall figure in gold, and the three simple free items in his hands seemed to be imbued with a strange brilliance.
Whispers rose softly near the checkout, mixed with a few irrepressible gasps of admiration:
"He seems to be from Class A?… So cool…"
"His posture… so elegant…"
"He just walked out like that? Doesn't he have to pay?"
"What he's holding… are items from the free zone!"
Sakamoto seemed oblivious to these gazes and whispers.
He passed through the automatically parting crowd like a gentle breeze, his figure disappearing at the bright exit of the store, leaving behind only an elegant and mysterious silhouette, and the faint, lingering scent of soap in the air.
Ayanokoji looked in the direction Sakamoto had disappeared, then down at the moderately priced items in his own shopping cart, and finally his gaze swept over the cheapest items in Horikita's shopping basket.
Horikita remained rooted to the spot, her cool profile facing the direction Sakamoto had left, a lingering confusion in her eyes. She seemed still immersed in the impactful scene from moments ago.