In Class 2-A, the hum of pages turning and chalk scratching
filled the air. Niso Tanaka was already two steps ahead in the lesson, her
answers neatly written out in perfect handwriting. Across her from the opposite
corner, Lad Tokai sat by the window, not looking at the board, but somehow
understanding everything anyway.
The next class, in Class 2-B, Mia Katagawa underlined a
phrase in her notes. Something felt off. Two seats away, Minato Onabara
scrolled through a list of national academic scores like he was shopping for
weaknesses.
And then—
> "Good morning, students of Tokyo Academy High."
The intercom cut through every classroom.
> "All class representatives—from First Year to Fourth
Year—are to report to the Student Council Chamber immediately."
Niso Tanaka was already standing, sliding her notebook
closed with a snap.
Tokai stood more slowly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Here we go."
In Class 2-B, Minato rose with the same sharp precision he
used on a chessboard. Mia followed, tucking her pen away.
"Finally," Minato muttered. "Let's see what all the fuss is
about."
The room was full—four years' worth of student reps lined
the tables and walls, whispering among themselves. The tension was thick, but
controlled.
At the front, Student Council President Hayato Arima
adjusted his glasses, calm and unreadable as ever.
Beside him, Vice President Shiori tapped the digital display
behind them.
The screen blinked alive with glowing blue letters.
When silence had taken over, Hayato spoke.
Inter-Class Strategy
Trials
Phase 1: Individual Matches
Each class selects four representatives.
One student per category:
• Business Logic & Quantitative Math
• Negotiation & Verbal Defense
• Corporate Systems & Risk Control
• Strategic Planning & Market Simulation
All matches are scored publicly and broadcast school-wide.
Phase 2: Group Simulation
The same four students form a company team.
They face elite upper class men teams in simulated business crisis.
Must manage capital, defend market share, negotiate mergers,
and respond to sabotage.
No retries. No resets. Real decisions. Real reputations.
---
Whispers rippled across the room.
> "They're letting us face fourth-years?"
"This is corporate boot camp."
"Who's insane enough to participate for this?"
Hayato raised a hand.
Silence dropped like stock.
He turned toward the front row — where four names were
seated, eyes forward, tension electric:
Lad Tokai, Niso Tanaka, Minato Onabara and Mia Katagawa.
All from Second year block Class 2-A and 2-B.
All known.
All dangerous.
> "Class 2-A , B, C and D," Hayato said, "doesn't get to
choose its champions…
It already has them."
The room broke into muffled shock. A few students even
scoffed.
Shiori continued, voice calm:
> "Representing Class 2-A, B, C and D:
• Lad Tokai – Quant & Logic
• Niso Tanaka – Negotiation & Speech
• Minato Onabara – Corporate Systems
• Mia Katagawa – Strategic Market Control"
More murmurs. More side-eyes.
They weren't just smart, they were competitive, uncooperative
and some would say volatile.
> "You're the youngest team selected to open against
Class 4-D," Hayato said, voice quiet and cold.
"Last year's senior champions. Top-ranked in corporate
simulation three years running."
Mia muttered under her breath:> "Requested?"
"More like volunteered to tear us apart."
Hayato swept the hall with a look — challenging,
unforgiving.
> "You have five days until Phase One."
"Train, observe and Tear each other apart if you want…"
He locked eyes with Tokai, Tanaka, Minato and then Mia.
> "But fail — and the entire school, and our partner
companies, watch you burn."
The meeting had ended.
Students spilled out of the Grand Hall in quiet murmurs and
stiff uniforms, eyes darting toward one group: Tokai, Tanaka, Mia, and Minato
walking side by side.
They didn't speak.
They didn't smile.
But they walked in sync — like a storm moving across the
academy.
From the courtyard steps, Kai watched them leave.
> "So it's really them," he muttered.
> "All four," Miyo replied, arms folded.
She took a slow sip from her vending can, eyes locked on
Tanaka's back.
> "It's like watching fireworks loaded into one barrel,"
she added.
"Bright, fast… and probably going to blow."
Kai smirked, but it faded quickly.
> "Tokai hates attention," he said.
"But they just made him the face of 2-A"
Miyo didn't answer at first.
Then quietly, almost like she was speaking to herself—
> "Niso's going to take it personally if she fails."
They stood there in silence for a while, watching the four
disappear around the corridor.
> "Do you think they'll survive working together?" Kai
asked.
> "Depends," Miyo said, walking off.
Kai glanced at her.
> "On what?"
She didn't look back.
> "On whether they trust themselves… more than they hate
each other."
Four desks had been pulled together in the middle of the
room.
Tokai, Tanaka, Mia and Minato sat around them — not close,
not relaxed, just… present.
No one spoke at first.
Minato broke the silence.
> "We don't have to like each other."
"But we can't afford to lose."
Mia nodded.
> "Especially not to Class 4-D. They're twice as
experienced."
Tanaka leaned back in her chair.
> "You two are used to leading," she said, glancing at
Mia and Minato.
"So are we."
She looked at Tokai.
> "So how's this going to work?"
Tokai's voice was quiet.
> "By results. Not feelings."
No one argued.
Minato opened the strategy file Shiori had handed out
earlier.
> "We each take our categories. Study the expected
challenges. Train solo until we regroup."
> "And the group simulation?" Mia asked.
Tokai replied without hesitation.
> "We'll figure it out… if we make it that far."
They all nodded, barely.
It wasn't unity.
It wasn't trust.
But it was a start.
Tokai stood alone at a desk.
The old-school monitor blinked with graphs, numbers, and
probability maps.
He didn't blink.
One mistake could end a round.
One wrong assumption, and the team would fail.
> "89% isn't enough," he angrily tighten his lips and fist.
He erased the answer and started over.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours.
He wasn't training for the trial.
He was training to not be a disappointment.
Again.
The stage in the auditorium was empty.
The mic was off.
Niso Tanaka stood center stage, eyes fixed on the silent
rows of chairs.
She imagined a panel of judges.
A hostile investor.
An audience that wanted her to fail.
> "You're not here to please them," she whispered.
"You're here to win them."
She raised her voice.
> "Next quarter projections show a 32% increase—if your
team knows how to move!"
Her voice echoed.
She didn't flinch.
She repeated it again. Louder.
By the time the lights flickered off automatically, she was
still talking.
While in the tech lab, the room was dark except for the glow
of three monitors.
Minato Onabara sat alone, hoodie over his uniform shirt,
coding fast.
Error. Recompile. Test.
Again.
He wasn't building for beauty.
He was building for chaos.
Firewalls, response systems, trap codes and AI handlers.
> "If 4-D tries to break the system," he muttered,
"I'll break their timing."
His script crashed.
He didn't react.
He started again.
While on the rooftop.
Mia Katagawa sat cross-legged near the fence, tablet in
hand. Projecting charts, past match data and economic curve simulations.
She studied all of it — without emotion, without pause.
> "They rush," she whispered.
"I wait."
Her eyes narrowed as she zoomed in on a graph of Class 4-D's
play history.
> "They fold under pressure… unless they lead."
She closed the tablet.
> "So we don't let them lead."
She stood and walked back down alone.
Hayato Arima " how will you handle this challenge Tokai?, I am
expecting a lot from you."
The Reigning Champions team
1. Reiji Kurosawa – Leader | Strategic Command
Calm, ruthless, analytical and never lost a group trial. Sees
emotion as a liability was name " The Cold General
2. Ruth Fujimoto – Debate & Negotiation. Elegant,
sharp-tongued, manipulative and Can dismantle arguments with a smile. Once made
a third-year cry during finals — and apologized with tea.
3. Kaito Harata – Systems & Risk Management. A delinquent,
quiet hacker type, Always chewing gum and once rebuilt the school's defense
simulation overnight and hacked school results to fail the best students. Doesn't
talk much — his programs speak for him.
4. Rika Kishima – Quantitative Analyst. Obsessed with
perfection, Treats numbers like poetry, has a mental calculator and the
attitude of a CEO.
A year ago Class 3-D
PHASE 1: INDIVIDUAL MATCHES
Each match projected live to every classroom in the academy.
Quantitative Logic & Math – Rika Kishima vs Class 2-B's
Top Analyst.
The room was silent as equations flooded the screen. The
second-year opponent worked fast—aggressive, confident. Rika didn't rush. She
smiled as she wrote.
> "They miscalculated line 12," she murmured.
Two minutes later, the judge held up a result sheet.
> "Kishima wins. Perfect accuracy. 41 seconds faster."
> "Numbers don't panic," she said, walking off.
Negotiation & Verbal Defense – Ruth Fujimoto vs Class
2-C's Debate Captain.
Ruth stood alone at the center podium, voice honey-sweet and
scalpel-sharp.
> "You're arguing profit. I'm arguing people. Which one
leaves a boardroom first?"
Her opponent pushed back. She smiled wider with her finger on
her lips while moving her chest in seductive manner.
> "There's no need to shout. I'm already winning."
Point by point, she dismantled their logic with surgical
grace.
Final score: Ruth 9, Opponent 2.
The audience didn't clap. They just… stared at chest.
Corporate Systems & Risk Control – Kaito Harata vs Class
2-A's Programmer.
Two terminals. One virtual system. A virus injected
mid-scenario.
Kaito barely looked at the screen.
> "Their risk monitor's running stock code. Sloppy."
He rebuilt the firewall before the second-year even located
the breach.
Then launched a counter-injection that collapsed the
opposing simulation.
> "Crash complete."
The judge blinked.
> "Match to Harata."
A flawless victory.
Strategic Market Simulation – Reiji Kurosawa vs Class 2-D's
Game Theory Ace.
The match ran silent.
Reiji studied charts, projections, and team behavior with
eerie calm. His opponent went aggressive—cornered a majority share, launched a
merger play.
Reiji let them.
Then flipped the simulation using a subtle futures-market
trap.
> "They committed too early," he said to no one.
"Predictable."
Score: Reiji wins by margin of 86%.
By the end of Phase 1, Class 3-D had a flawless 4 wins out
of 4, each more surgical than the last.
But that was just the beginning
PHASE 2: GROUP CRISIS SIMULATION
00:12:41 – Live Scenario: Hostile Takeover Under Fire
The auditorium was packed. Onscreen, red warnings blinked
across the digital company interface.
Class 3-D was under attack—sabotage from Class 2-C, bribed
logistics from Class 2-A and a collapsing asset market. Three crises at once.
At the head of the boardroom sat Reiji Kurosawa Calm and unshaken
by the situation.
> "Ruth," he said. "End their noise."
She rose, prepared for action as ever.
> "Objection," she said smoothly.
"Their forecast is based on false stability. Are they
careless… or just incompetent?"
The judges looked up. Her opponent stammered.
> "You're arguing feelings," she added. "We argue facts."
Point: 3-D.
> "Kaito?"
The screen blinked. Kaito chewed his gum, typed three lines.
Enter.
The rival company's server glitches, Security protocols
collapsed.
> "Their firewall's done," he said, "We're in."
> "Lock them out. Then overload their systems node."
> "Already working on it."
Rika didn't speak. She watched her graphs like a conductor
watching a symphony.
> "Liquidity's dropped below 0.4. They're panicking."
Reiji gave the order with the tone of a man reciting
weather:
> "Buy their board. Execute the takeover."
Timer hit 00:03:12.
Their opponents froze.
> "Class 3-D has executed a Full Corporate Takeover.
Simulation Concluded."
Ding.
Silence.
Then slow, reluctant applause. A few gasps.
Reiji stood.
> "Post-analysis is yours," he said to the judges.
And walked out, his team behind him like a closing shadow.
A dark classroom.
Tokai stares at the replay screen.
Niso stands just behind him.
> "This was them last year," she mutters.
Tokai doesn't blink.
> "And now they're fourth-years."
Mia's voice cuts in from the doorway:
> "And we're their opening act."
The screen blinks. Reiji's face—still, unreadable.
Minato speaks last: "If
we go in like we are now… we don't make it past Phase One."