Hoshinomiya tapped her tablet again, and a detailed syllabus materialized on the screen behind her.
"Advanced Nurturing High School operates on a merit-based point system," she explained, pacing in front of the board. "Each of you starts with 100,000 private points, which is equivalent to 100,000 yen."
Several students straightened in their seats at the mention of money. Watanabe actually let out a low whistle.
"These points serve as currency for everything on campus—food, amenities, special privileges." Hoshinomiya's purple eyes gleamed. "You'll receive points at the beginning of each month."
Huh. She's being deliberately vague about how many points we get monthly.
"While enrolled here, you'll have no contact with the outside world," she continued. "Everything you need is provided on campus—for a price."
Something about this system didn't add up. One point equals one yen. If there were twenty-five students per class, that would mean roughly one hundred students per grade level. With three grade levels attending year-round, the school would be distributing about 300 million yen monthly. That's nearly 2.5 million dollars every single month.
No educational institution, regardless of government backing, would hand students that kind of cash just to spend freely. There had to be a hidden mechanism, some catch that Hoshinomiya wasn't revealing. But without more information, I could only hypothesize.
I blinked, returning to the present as Hoshinomiya continued her explanation.
She tapped her tablet again, switching to a new slide showing a campus map. "Now, regarding dormitory arrangements—"
Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Oh! I completely forgot!" She set down her tablet. "Before we continue, I need to distribute your school IDs."
She glanced around the room. "It's a rather heavy box in the faculty office. I could use some help carrying it. Any volunteers?"
Several hands went up, but Shibata's shot highest. "I can help, sensei!"
"Excellent!" Hoshinomiya beamed. "The rest of you, take a five-minute break. We'll continue when I return."
As they left, the classroom erupted into chatter. I leaned back in my chair, observing the social clusters forming around me. To my right sat Takakura, the bowl-cut guy who'd mentioned aliens during the game. Behind me, Beppo was still striking dramatic poses while whispering about cosmic energy. Sumida sat directly in front of me, her neat black bob completely still as she organized her notebook with mechanical precision. To my left, Ayase had already turned to face Takakura, her eyes narrowed.
"Is your name seriously Ken Takakura?" Ayase demanded, leaning across the aisle. "Because you look nothing like the actor!"
Takakura adjusted his round glasses nervously. "Ah, yes, that's my real name. My parents were big fans of his films."
"That's so cool!" Ayase's entire demeanor transformed from skeptical to excited in an instant. "He's my absolute favorite actor of all time! I've watched every single one of his movies at least three times."
"R-really?" Takakura blinked rapidly. "Most people our age don't even know who he is."
"Most people our age have terrible taste," Ayase declared. "Which of his films is your favorite? Mine's 'The Yellow Handkerchief.' The prison scenes? Masterful."
"I-I like 'Antarctica' personally," Takakura mumbled, his face flushing.
Ayase nodded approvingly. "Excellent choice. The quiet dignity he brings to that role is incredible."
"You're named after an actor?" I asked.
"An extremely famous actor," Ayase corrected, shooting me a glare. "One of Japan's greatest film stars."
"Never heard of him."
"How can you—" She stopped mid-sentence, studying my face. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
I shrugged.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, turning back to Takakura. "Ignore him. Let's talk about 'Yakuza Graveyard' instead."
As they continued their film discussion, Sumida turned slightly in her seat, her red eyes darting up briefly before returning to her notebook.
"I've organized the syllabus points by priority," she said quietly. "I can share my notes if... if anyone needs them. Not that my notes are anything special, of course."
"That's very thoughtful, Sumida-san," Beppo declared from behind me. "Though in my previous incarnation, I was known for my perfect memory of ancient texts."
Sumida's pale skin flushed. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest—"
"He's messing with you," I said.
Her red eyes widened. "Oh."
"Not messing!" Beppo protested, leaning forward. "The cosmic energies sealed within these bandages—" he raised his red-wrapped forearms, "—contain memories of countless past lives."
Ayase paused her film discussion to roll her eyes. "Give it a rest, Cosmic Boy. We get it—you're special."
"The uninitiated often mock what they don't understand," Beppo replied.
I turned to Sumida, whose eyes remained fixed on her notebook. "Your notes probably are better than his cosmic memories. Mind if I take a look?"
She glanced up, surprised. "They're really not that good, but..." She hesitantly slid her notebook toward me.
The page contained a meticulously organized breakdown of Hoshinomiya's lecture, with color-coded sections and neat annotations in the margins. Far more detailed than necessary, but impressive in its thoroughness.
"This is good," I said, sliding it back. "Thanks."
Her cheeks colored slightly. "It's nothing special."
"It's better than what I've got," I replied, tapping my empty desk.
"Haven't you been taking notes?" Sumida asked, her expression shifting to concern.
"In my head."
"But how will you review later?"
I tapped my temple. "Some things stick."
"Like chess moves?" Takakura interjected unexpectedly. When I turned to him, he shrank back slightly. "S-sorry. I was just thinking about what you said in the game. About never losing at chess."
"You play?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No, but I've always been fascinated by it."
"Speaking of weird obsessions," Beppo said, leaning forward again, "has anyone else noticed the strange energy patterns in this classroom? My sealed powers are detecting—"
"If you say 'cosmic disturbance' one more time, I'm going to show you a disturbance," Ayase threatened, raising her fist.
Beppo retreated slightly, though his expression remained serious. "Violence cannot silence the truth."
"No, but it can give it a headache," Ayase countered.
Sumida turned to me, her voice barely audible. "Is everyone in this class so... intense?"
I glanced around the room. Himeno was arguing passionately with Asakura about something, her twintails bouncing with each emphatic gesture. Kobashi was explaining something to Minamikata involving elaborate hand movements and occasional pointing at the ceiling. Hamaguchi was leaning back in his chair, observing everything with half-lidded eyes while Andō lectured him about proper posture.
"Looks that way," I said.
"I'm not sure I belong here," Sumida whispered, more to herself than to me.
"None of us belong anywhere," I replied. "We just end up places."
Her red eyes widened slightly, then she gave a small nod. "I suppose that's true."
The classroom door slid open as Hoshinomiya returned with Shibata, who carried a large box with apparent ease. His gentle face showed no strain despite the box's size.
"Thank you, Shibata-kun," Hoshinomiya said cheerfully. "You're as strong as you look."
"It wasn't heavy, sensei," he replied, setting the box on her desk.
"Such modesty!" She patted his arm. "Now, back to your seat."
As Shibata returned to his desk, Hoshinomiya opened the box and began removing sleek black devices. "When I call your name, please come forward to receive your school ID and phone."
She held up one of the devices. "These phones connect only to the school's internal network. They serve as your student ID, point management system, and communication device. Losing one incurs a substantial point penalty, so guard them carefully."
She began calling names alphabetically. "Andō Sayo."
Andō approached the desk, accepted her phone with a slight bow, and returned to her seat.
"Asakura Mako."
One by one, students collected their devices. When she called "Asako Ninō," the purple-haired girl practically glided to the front, accepting her phone gracefully.
"Ayase Momo."
Ayase bounded forward, snatched her phone enthusiastically, and immediately began examining its features on her way back.
The distribution continued until Hoshinomiya called, "Shirō Minoru."
I stood, approached the desk, and took the offered device. It was lighter than expected, with a minimalist design and a matte black finish. The screen illuminated as it recognized my touch, displaying my name and a point balance of 100,000.
"Thank you, Shirō-kun," Hoshinomiya said.
After everyone had received their phones, Hoshinomiya resumed her lecture. "These devices will notify you of tests, special events, and allows you to text and email your classmates. They also contain campus maps and regulations. I suggest reviewing both thoroughly."
She tapped her tablet, bringing up a new slide. "Now, regarding dormitory arrangements..."
As she continued explaining the campus rules, I examined the phone more closely. The interface was clean and intuitive, with several pre-installed apps: Phone, Email, Messages, Calendar, Campus Map, Student Handbook and Point Management.
I opened the Point Management app, which displayed my current balance prominently. Below it was a transaction history—currently empty—and a list of available purchases: meal plans, amenities, special privileges.
The prices were reasonable for basic necessities but escalated quickly for luxuries. A standard meal plan cost 500 points daily. A premium meal plan was 1,500. Access to the deluxe bath facilities: 5,000 points monthly.
Everything had a price, just as Hoshinomiya had said. But the source of points remained vague. If we started with 100,000 and had to pay for everything from meals to toiletries, how long would that last? And how many would we receive monthly?
I glanced around at my classmates, most of whom were exploring their new devices with expressions ranging from excitement to confusion. None seemed troubled by the ambiguity of the point system. They probably assumed we'd receive 100,000 points monthly—a reasonable conclusion based on Hoshinomiya's phrasing.
But if my earlier calculations were correct, that wasn't financially sustainable. Which meant there was another game being played here, one with rules we hadn't been told.
I closed the app and slipped the phone into my pocket. Time would reveal the truth.
Hoshinomiya's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "And that concludes our orientation for today. Tomorrow we'll begin regular classes. Please use this evening to familiarize yourselves with the campus and settle into your dormitories."
As students began gathering their things, she added, "Oh, and one last thing—enjoy your time here. These three years will shape your futures in ways you can't yet imagine."