"You ever wonder how hard life can kick you in the ass sis?"
Shireen glanced over at me, brows raised. "What the hell are you on about this time?"
"You know what I mean, Shireen. We're just starting middle school, but think about it—are people really treated equally?"
She frowned. "Brother, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Just think about it. Even though we're still young, people come in all shapes and sizes. Nobody's really the same, so how can things ever be truly equal?"
She tilted her head. "So… like numbers too, right?"
I blinked. "Uh… maybe? I kinda forgot we only just made it to sixth grade."
Shireen smiled faintly, but it didn't last. "Well, Carlos… I guess this is it. This is where we split up, brother."
Our parents' marriage had crumbled under years of arguments, and now the court's decision was final—split custody. From this day on, Shireen and I wouldn't see each other again, at least not in any regular way.
"I'll miss you, sis."
She didn't say anything—just gave a small, reluctant wave before turning away.
The moment hung in my chest like a knot.
-Four Years Later
The school entrance ceremony was today.
My name's Carlos Harkuji, and I've just been placed into Class 1-B. I'm not gonna lie—I'm kind of excited.
Middle school had been… eventful. I played soccer and basketball, racked up a ton of friends, and maybe even a few enemies, though I prefer to remember the friends. But that chapter's over. Now I'm here at ANHS, and I have no idea what's waiting for me.
The place was buzzing—rows of students in matching uniforms like mine, the air thick with chatter. It was crowded enough to feel like the whole city had decided to enroll today. That's when I saw him.
The student council president.
He had that look—polished, confident, the kind of person who could make an entire room pause just by walking into it. For someone like me, who geeks out over school politics like they're championship sports, this guy was a must-meet.
The ceremony itself didn't last as long as I expected. A few speeches, some applause, and then we were released to our classes.
For me, that meant Class 1-B.
Unlike some, I actually like school. I see it as my main route to success, so stepping into this classroom felt like a step toward the rest of my life.
The room was lively. That's the thing about being in Class 1-B—you've got the energy, the ambition. Now, if we were Class 1-F, well… that'd be a whole different vibe. Doom and gloom, maybe.
I chose a seat in the front row. A few moments later, the door opened, and in walked a man who could probably bench-press half the student body. Easily 6'3", solid muscle, and an expression that could've been carved from stone.
"Attention!"
The word snapped across the room like a whip.
I looked right at him. He didn't scare me—if anything, I was curious. His presence was commanding, sure, but I wanted to hear what he had to say.
"As you know, we've been selected into Class 1-B. That doesn't mean we get to sit back and enjoy the luxuries of being in a higher class. We need to push ourselves. I want us to get to know each other, build some real chemistry, because trust me—this school will test us on it."
I found myself agreeing with him. He'd hit the nail on the head. After all, how else do you explain ANHS's 100% job acceptance rate if they're not constantly pushing their students to the edge?
While I was lost in thought, another student's voice cut in.
"Well, aren't you a lively one, Muscle-kun."
The voice came from a short, twin-tailed blonde girl near the middle of the room. Her tone was playful, but there was a certain edge to it—like she wasn't afraid to poke at him.
"Though I agree with your hypothesis," she continued, "don't you think it's a little bold to make such a grand declaration to the class without even introducing yourself first?" Her confidence radiated like she'd already claimed the spotlight.
The tall man didn't flinch. "Horiyama Tensei," he said, crisp and direct. "You may call me Horiyama. And you are, girl?"
"Benihana Sotsuka," she replied with a slight smirk. "You may call me… Bubbles."
Bubbles?
I blinked, the name rattling around in my head. Why on earth would anyone—especially a girl like her—pick a nickname like that? It sounded more like a goldfish you'd win at a summer festival than a human being.
"Well then, Bubbles, I'm glad to be working with you." Horiyama's voice carried a noticeable warmth now—he clearly appreciated her bold attitude, maybe even took a liking to her already.
"Same to you as well, Muscle-kun," she replied with a teasing grin. "You seem entertaining enough."
Without missing a beat, Horiyama turned back to the rest of us. "Alright, everyone. Let's introduce ourselves. I'll start."
He squared his shoulders, like a general about to address his troops. "As I said before, I'm Horiyama Tensei. My main three… professions, you could say, are commanding, bodybuilding, and academics. During my middle school career, I won the award for Most Capable Student."
I had to admit—inside, I was practically fangirling. Not that I'd ever say it out loud.
Before I could get too lost in admiration, the spotlight suddenly landed on me.
"The name's Carlos Harkuji. My top three… uh, 'professions' are sports, academics, and…" I hesitated. My mind went completely blank. "…wearing a sombrero."
Yeah, that's what I went with. And judging by the reaction—half the class chuckling, the other half giving me that what-is-wrong-with-this-guy look—I guess it landed somewhere between funny and confusing.
"For the record," I added, "I'm half Mexican and half Japanese. And no, I'm not a transfer student—both my parents were half as well."
Horiyama blinked, clearly processing the sombrero comment, but chose not to dig into it. "Glad to be working with you, Carlos."
After I went, the introductions rolled on. And, of course, there was Bubbles.
"Well, the name's Bubbles," she began with a smug little tilt of her head. "You already know what I said before, but my main personality traits? I'm teasing~ I'm kind! And I love messing with people. Don't let me get into your head, though… or you're gonna have a bad day."
Her grin widened, like she'd already decided whose head she wanted to get into.
"As for what I'm good at… well, you could say I'm great at cooking, math, and getting people to speak up."
Something about the way she said it made me shiver—not from fear exactly, but from the uneasy realization that she might be a little too good at all three.
The next person to stand was a tall girl with long purple hair tied into a ponytail. Even from my seat, I could tell she was athletic—her build was lean but powerful, and her quads alone told the story of someone who trained seriously.
"The name's Rose Tanihana," she said evenly. "I don't like talking to people much, but I can be a good listener when it's needed."
Her eyes narrowed as she added, "I'm good at art, taekwondo… and telling boys to back off if they talk to me the wrong way." She shot a pointed sneer toward a cluster of guys in the back who'd clearly been staring at her figure a little too long.
Horiyama chuckled—half amused, half wary, and just sarcastic enough to make it clear he respected her nerve. "Thanks for your introduction, Rose."
The next student to step forward made me straighten in my seat. Black hair, tall, another athlete—but this one I recognized immediately.
Sasikibe Ranho. The kendo prodigy.
My inner fanboy was losing its mind.
"The name's Sasikibe Ranho," he said in a calm, deliberate tone. "I don't talk much. My profession is kendo and swordsmanship, and I'm a great observer. Use me as you wish… for the betterment of the class."
He said it like it was a vow, and I couldn't help but look at him like a proud teammate I hadn't even fought beside yet.
Horiyama nodded with genuine approval. "Welcome, Ranho."
After that, the rest of the class introductions went by without incident—names, hobbies, the usual small talk.
Then the door slid open.
A woman stepped inside with a confident but unhurried stride. "Hello, class," she said with a warm smile. "My name is Ms. Ramamiya, and I'll be your Class 1-B teacher this year. Please, take your seats."
Carlos studied her as the room settled down. She was dressed entirely in sleek black, her hair pulled into a loose braid that swayed with her movements. Her eyes were sharp—piercing even—but there was a hint of caution in them, like she'd seen enough to know when to keep her guard up.
"Ahem. Good morning, students." Ms. Ramamiya's voice was calm but carried easily to the back of the room. "I'm the instructor for Class 1-B. As you may already know, you won't be changing classrooms for the next three years." She smiled faintly as a few students nodded in acknowledgment.
"I'll be acting as your homeroom teacher, so I hope to get to know each of you well. But before we start, I need to go over this school's special rules." She began walking down the rows, placing a thin booklet on each desk. "This is your admission guide. Read it carefully."
A page in the booklet caught my eye immediately. The S System.
I flipped it open without hesitation, my mind already working through the details, storing and sorting the information like puzzle pieces clicking into place.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Horiyama bent over his own copy, scanning the pages with the precision of a craftsman inspecting his work—focused, meticulous, almost reverent.
She moved on to the next item, pulling a neat stack of cards from her desk. "These are your ID cards," she explained, handing them out one by one. "With these, you can access any facility on campus—movie theaters, restaurants, the Keyaki Mall, and so on. You can also use them to purchase goods from campus stores and vendors."
She paused, letting the cards rest in each student's hand before continuing. "However, it's important to track how many points you spend. Points are the school's official currency. You can buy anything with them."
The room buzzed at that, but Horiyama raised his hand immediately.
"Yes, Horiyama?" Ms. Ramamiya asked.
"Does this," he said, voice steady, "include unconventional or… unconditional ways of spending points?"
Her eyes lit up, the faintest spark of amusement in them. "What do you mean exactly?"
"Well," Horiyama said, "you said anything—and you said it like you wanted us to read between the lines. So, for example, if someone cheated on a test and got caught… could they buy back the points they'd lose from that?"
From across the room, Bubbles laughed. "That's a pretty good hypothesis, Muscle-kun."
Ms. Ramamiya's smile deepened. "I'll leave that to your imagination, Horiyama. But I must say—you have a sharp mind for thinking in that direction."
She clapped her hands lightly, regaining the class's attention. "Anyway, you'll each start with one hundred thousand points. Remember: one point equals one yen. Be prepared to prove what you're worth."
That's a lot of points, I thought. Almost suspiciously so. Like they wanted us to spend recklessly right from the start.
Before long, class was dismissed for the day. I headed for my dorm, the halls still buzzing with first-day chatter. Somewhere along the way, I'd gotten Horiyama's number—not that it was a huge achievement. He'd made it a point to get almost everyone's contact info, so I wasn't exactly special.
Still, my thoughts were scattered. How had I even ended up here, at Advanced Nurturing High School? And what exactly was waiting for me in this place?
But he had no way of knowing that the real challenges weren't going to be in the classroom or on the field. The year ahead would hold battles he'd never imagined—fights he couldn't prepare for with grades or training.
This was just the first step.
End of Chapter 1