The first week at the Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School passed in a strange rhythm. Students gorged themselves on luxuries, buying things they'd never dreamed of having in their old lives—brand-name shoes, stacks of games, armfuls of snacks.
I stayed quiet, watching.
Chabashira-sensei's smile on orientation day had been thin, almost mocking. Every word she spoke hid a blade beneath it. Freedom. Points. Ability. The others heard promises. I heard traps.
The truth would come soon enough: Class D's points were not guaranteed. They depended on our collective behavior, performance, and discipline. By the time my classmates realized, it would be too late.
But not for me.
If I wanted to survive here, I couldn't rely only on my knowledge of events. I needed people—trustworthy, overlooked, underestimated. The stars of the class—Ayanokoji, Horikita, Kushida—they had their own orbits, their own plans. If I tried to fight them head-on, I'd be swallowed whole.
Instead, I'd build my own circle. Not of leaders, but of those who didn't yet realize their worth.
It began in the cafeteria.
I noticed Akito Miyake sitting by himself, chopsticks tapping nervously against his tray. He was the athletic type, sharp-eyed, with a touch of impatience in his movements. He wasn't unpopular, but he wasn't central either.
Sliding my tray down, I sat across from him. "Mind if I join?"
He looked up, surprised, then shrugged. "Go ahead."
We ate in silence for a while before I spoke. "You seem… restless."
He smirked faintly. "Is it that obvious?"
"Pretty much. Not everyone's cut out for sitting still in a classroom."
"Guess so," he muttered. "Basketball, soccer, track—doesn't matter. I just need to do something. Sitting here, wasting time… it's not my thing."
His frustration was genuine. A boy who needed motion, who hated stagnation. Someone like him could be useful—if guided.
"You know," I said casually, "this school isn't what it looks like. If you want to survive here, you'll need more than just talent."
Akito raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Let's just say… points aren't as simple as they made them sound. Trust me. You'll see."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. "You talk like you know something the rest of us don't."
"Maybe I do." I gave a small smile. "And maybe I'll share it—with the right people."
From there, the circle grew.
The next was Teruhiko Yukimura. A serious boy, glasses perched on his nose, always reading during breaks. His posture was stiff, his tone formal, as if constantly preparing for a debate. Most found him too uptight to befriend.
I approached him in the library. "You're Yukimura, right? Always studying?"
He glanced up, cautious. "Yes. And you are?"
"Miyamoto. Just curious—what are you studying so hard for?"
"This school is designed to filter the capable from the incapable. I refuse to be lumped with the incompetent. If I fail here, I fail myself."
His pride radiated off him, but so did his isolation. No one liked a perfectionist.
"What if I told you," I said, lowering my voice, "that grades aren't the only metric here? That there are hidden rules deciding our value?"
Yukimura's eyes sharpened. "Explain."
"Not here. Not now. But if you're interested, join me later. I'm forming a group."
For a moment, he hesitated, torn between suspicion and curiosity. Finally, he closed his book with a snap. "Fine. I'll listen."
Kyosuke Okitani and Wataru Ijuin were next—two average boys, often laughing together, but never standing out. They were easygoing, agreeable, and most importantly, overlooked.
Catching them at the convenience store, I pointed to their shopping bags. "Blowing through points already?"
"Why not?" Okitani grinned. "It's not like they'll run out."
I gave a knowing look. "You sure about that?"
Both blinked. "Huh?"
"Let's just say you'll regret spending like that. If you don't want to end up broke in a month, you should come hear me out."
They exchanged confused glances, but Okitani shrugged. "Eh, why not? If you're wrong, we'll laugh it off."
Perfect.
The real challenge came with the girls.
Haruka Hasebe was bright and easygoing, always chatting with Mei Yu Wang and An Maezono. They were more social than academic, their priorities clearly skewed toward enjoying school life.
Approaching them required tact. I found them lounging under a tree during lunch, giggling about something trivial.
"Hey," I said, hands raised disarmingly. "Sorry to interrupt. Mind if I ask you something?"
They looked at me, amused. Haruka tilted her head. "Depends. What's the question?"
"Have you ever wondered why they gave us so many points? Doesn't it seem… too good to be true?"
That caught their attention. Mei leaned forward, frowning. "You think it's a trick?"
"I know it is," I said firmly. "And when the truth hits, most of the class will panic. I don't plan on being one of them. If you don't either, come to the meeting I'm setting up. No pressure, just information."
Haruka smirked. "Mysterious, aren't you? Alright, we'll hear you out."
Airi Sakura was different. Quiet, shy, always keeping to herself. She melted into the background, her voice barely above a whisper. Convincing her meant approaching carefully.
I found her in the library, staring nervously at a photography magazine.
"Nice shots," I said gently.
She startled, hugging the magazine to her chest. "O-oh… um… yes."
"Photography's cool. Takes an eye for detail. Seeing things others miss."
Her cheeks pinkened. "I… I guess."
"You know, in this school, details matter. Small things others overlook could decide everything. I'm gathering people who understand that. People who don't want to get crushed by the system."
Airi hesitated, her fingers tightening around the magazine. Then, softly, she whispered, "C-can I… come too?"
"Of course." I smiled. "We'll need someone like you."
By the weekend, the pieces were in place.
I invited them all to a quiet corner of the campus garden at dusk. The air was cool, the chatter of other students distant. One by one, they arrived—Akito, Yukimura, Okitani, Ijuin, Haruka, Mei, An, Airi. Eight in total, plus myself.
They sat in a loose circle, some curious, others skeptical.
"Alright, Miyamoto," Akito said. "You gathered us. Now talk. What's this all about?"
I took a deep breath. This was it.
"You've all noticed something's… off about this school, right? The freedom, the points, the luxuries. It's too perfect. Too easy."
Yukimura adjusted his glasses. "Get to the point."
"The points we received—100,000 each. They're not a gift. They're a test. Next month, we won't receive the same amount. In fact, we might receive nothing."
Gasps rippled through the group. Haruka frowned. "Wait, what? How do you know?"
"Because I've been watching. Every action here is monitored—attendance, participation, behavior. We're being scored. And Class D? We're the lowest of the low. We're meant to fail."
Silence fell, heavy and tense.
"If we keep wasting points, if we keep acting carelessly, we'll be broke in weeks. Most of the class doesn't see it. They won't until it's too late. But we—" I looked at each of them in turn "—we can prepare. If we work together, share information, and stay disciplined, we can survive. More than that—we can climb."
Yukimura leaned forward, eyes sharp. "And you expect us to just believe you?"
I met his gaze steadily. "No. I expect you to test me. Watch what happens in three weeks. When the points drop, you'll know I was right. And when that happens, you'll be glad you stood with me."
The group exchanged glances. Doubt lingered, but so did curiosity.
Akito broke the silence first. "If what you say is true… then yeah, I'm in. Better than stumbling around blind."
Haruka smirked. "Guess it won't hurt to stick together. Safety in numbers, right?"
Mei and An nodded along. Okitani and Ijuin shrugged but agreed. Even Airi, fidgeting nervously, whispered, "I-I'll… stay too."
Finally, Yukimura exhaled. "Very well. I'll remain—for now. But if this is some scheme, I'll expose you."
I smiled faintly. "Fair enough."
And just like that, the first seeds of my team were planted. Not leaders, not stars, but the overlooked. Together, we would carve our own path.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of crimson, I felt a surge of determination.
This was no longer about survival.
This was the beginning of my rise.