Sae Chabashira POV
The classroom did not return to normal immediately after the incident.
After his abrupt declaration of leadership, Ren Takahashi took a seat and appointed Hirata to take over the introductions, while the red head had stormed out of the room, understandably embarassed.
And once the introductions were completed, students began filing out in small groups, their conversations remaining subdued, and their attention drifting—again and again—back to the same individual. Some were curious, others felt a little unsettled, and a few appeared to have come to terms with what they had witnessed as something acceptable, or even necessary.
Class D had always been a gathering of defects.
That much had not changed.
What had changed was the speed at which order had been established.
I remained standing off to the side at the front of the room, watching as the last few students trickled out. My gaze eventually settled on the boy who had orchestrated it all. He showed no signs of agitation, no lingering tension from the earlier altercation. If anything, he appeared… bored.
That, more than anything else, was what stood out.
Students who resorted to violence—especially on the first day—were usually driven by emotion. Anger, insecurity, the need to assert themselves. But what I had witnessed earlier was something else entirely. His movements had been efficient, controlled to a degree that suggested he was trained and not running on instincts, like his peer, and his decision-making had been immediate, as though he had already considered the outcome before acting.
More importantly, he had understood something the rest of the class had not.
When I refused to answer his questions, he did not press further. He did not need to.
"…You noticed far too quickly," I murmured to myself.
Whether that was intuition or something else entirely, I could not yet say. But it was enough to warrant my further close attention.
The only thing that bothered me about the entire morning was the light brush of his palm on my butt as he moved past me to address the students.
What was that about? Honestly, it was most probably just an accident.
Putting the accident aside, I stood up, gathering the documents from the desk before speaking.
"You."
He looked up immediately.
"Come to the faculty room after the entrance ceremony."
There was no hesitation. He simply nodded once, as though he had expected this.
Of course you did.
⸻
Faculty Room
The faculty room was quiet at this hour.
Most of the other teachers were either preparing for the entrance ceremony or had already stepped out, leaving the space unusually still. I took my seat behind the desk and opened the file I had requested only minutes earlier.
His name sat neatly at the top.
Takahashi Ren.
I had expected something—disciplinary records, perhaps, or at the very least an academic profile that justified the confidence he displayed.
Instead, what I found was… incomplete.
Or rather, selective.
His academic performance was consistently high, though not unnaturally so. No official records of misconduct. No flags. No notable affiliations listed within the school system.
And yet—
My eyes moved to the supplementary notes.
Takahashi Group.
This was a name that did not appear lightly.
His father's side was deeply embedded in the business world, with holdings that extended far beyond what most would consider "successful." International ties most probably, and political influence by extension, if not directly.
And then from his mother's side, that was where things became… interesting.
An old political family. These weren't just participants in Japanese rule, but architects. There were the names of individuals in this record who shaped national policy rather than followed it. This was the kind of lineage that didn't send their children to schools like this unless there was a reason.
"…What exactly are you doing here?" I murmured under my breath.
A quiet knock followed. Right on time.
"Come in."
The door opened, and he stepped inside without hesitation, closing it behind him.
I let the file rest on the desk, though I made no effort to hide it.
"Take a seat."
He did, pulling the chair out with an easy, unhurried motion before settling across from me. There was nothing stiff or overly formal about him. If anything, he looked more like someone attending a routine meeting than a student being called in by a teacher.
I watched him for a moment before speaking.
"You caused quite the impression in your first class."
A faint smile tugged at his expression, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I imagine I did."
"You imagine correctly," I replied. "That was bold of you to instigate a fight in front of me. Most students take a little longer before deciding to establish dominance through violence."
"That wasn't the intention," he said.
"Oh?"
"If I wanted to establish dominance through violence, I would've done it differently."
I raised an eyebrow at that.
"Is that so?"
He didn't elaborate, and I let the silence sit for a second before continuing.
"You seem to understand the situation here rather quickly," I said. "Faster than most."
"I pay attention," he replied.
"Is that all?"
He met my gaze evenly.
"For now."
There was a hint of something there—not quite evasive, but not fully open either. He wasn't avoiding the question but was choosing how much to give away.
I leaned back slightly in my chair, tapping a finger lightly against the edge of the file.
"That's interesting," I said. "Because from what I can see… you don't strike me as someone who should be here."
His eyes flicked briefly toward the file. So he noticed. Good.
"I'm not sure what you mean," he said.
"I think you do," I replied, sliding the file slightly forward. "Your background isn't exactly subtle. Your father's side alone would place you in a very different category from most of the students here. And your mother's…"
I paused, watching him carefully.
"…well, families like that don't make decisions without purpose."
For the first time since he entered the room, there was a slight shift in his expression.
"I didn't think the school would keep records that detailed for just about anyone to access," he said.
"We keep what we need to," I replied.
A small pause followed.
"So," I continued, folding my hands together, "why are you here?"
The question lingered between us.
He didn't answer immediately. Not out of hesitation—but what appeared consideration.
"…Opportunity," he responded eventually.
I let out a quiet breath through my nose.
"That's a vague answer."
"It's an honest one."
"How so?"
He leaned back slightly in his chair, his posture relaxed but not careless.
"Places like this attract a certain type of person," he said. "People who will end up in positions that matter. Influence, capital, networks… it all starts somewhere."
"And you think it starts here?"
"I think it can," he replied. "And if it does, I'd rather be inside that system than outside of it."
I studied him for a moment.
It wasn't an unreasonable answer but I'm sure it also wasn't the full truth.
"…You're ambitious," I said.
"I'm practical."
There was no arrogance in the statement, only a certainty in his abilities.
I decided to leave it there—for now.
"Very well," I said, shifting the conversation. "Was there something you wanted to ask?"
"Yes," he said. "It's regarding the personal points."
"Go on."
"You said these points can be used to buy anything, right?"
"I did." I responded succinctly, glad somebody had caught on.
"Are we able to buy an anonymous student ID account through the school?"
"Yes."
"With a seperate ID number?"
"Yes."
He nodded slightly.
"How much?"
"Fifty thousand points."
He didn't react strongly to the number, though I noticed the brief pause before he spoke again.
"That's reasonable."
"Is it?" I asked.
"For what it enables," he said.
"And what exactly do you intend to enable?" I pressed.
A faint smile appeared.
"Why don't you watch and find out?" he replied.
"…You're planning something," I said.
"Everyone here should be," he replied. "Some just haven't realised it yet."
That was… a fair point.
I shifted forward slightly.
"Then let me offer you something," I said. "Since you seem so interested in understanding how this place works."
He looked at me, waiting.
"The information I chose not to explain earlier," I continued. "The rules. The structure behind the system."
A small pause.
"I can tell you everything."
He didn't interrupt.
"How much?" he asked.
As always, he was straight to the point.
"Two million points."
The number settled into the space between us. He leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose.
"…That's steep," he said.
There it was. He didn't take the number too badly, as though such figures were commonplace.
"It's valuable," I replied.
"I'm sure it is."
"Then?"
He shook his head lightly.
"I'll pass."
"So easily?"
"I don't like paying for things I can figure out myself," he said. "Especially not at that price."
"And you think you can?"
"I think I can get close enough," he replied.
I watched him for a moment longer.
"…You're either very confident," I said, "or you're underestimating this school."
"Maybe," he said with a faint shrug.
Then the conversation shifted towards something else. Something that made me a little excited.
"As the homeroom teacher for class D, I am sure you will support me in whatever I have planned."
"What are you getting at?"
"Nothing…"
He stood, pushing his chair back in with a quiet motion, before making his way around the desk which had been keeping us—student and sensei—apart.
My gaze tracked him all the way, curious about what he was doing.
He bent down to eye level, mouth beside my ear. I could feel the warmth of his exhale on my cheek.
Expecting something private that he did not want heard by any microphones in this room, I ever so slightly leaned in closer, but would never have imagined what was said next.
"That touch earlier, sensei. It wasn't an accident."
Then I felt something wet on my earlobe.
I sat there, confused. Stunned.
I felt the young man pull away, before processing what had just happened.
"Get out!"
"As you wish, sensei." He left, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
The door closed behind him, and the room fell quiet once more.
Sitting there in a stunned stupor, I eventually glanced down at the file again with gnashed teeth.
"Who do you think you are!"
The thin file flew through the air in anger.