"It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change."
— Charles Darwin
~ ~ ~
The afternoon sun cast a frail light through the windows, warmer now than it had been in the morning—as if the day itself had started to settle.
The room had grown quieter since the introductions earlier.
Most of my classmates were taking notes, some using the school-issued phones, others resting on their desks, trying to absorb Miyu's teaching. A few undisciplined ones were lost in their own world—checking mirrors, scrolling through their phones without purpose.
I sat upright, posture straight, jaw resting against my palm as I listened in silence.
Beside me, Reika was focused as ever, eyes forward, calmly taking notes. Her expression was unreadable.
Her hair was neatly tied back, giving her a clean, composed look—quietly charming.
Miyu stood in front of the class, arms crossed as the projector flicked on behind her.
"Societies don't fall overnight," she began, her voice calm but firm. "They rot from within—usually because the people in power refused to change."
A pause.
"Take the Qing Dynasty. China held onto its imperial traditions while the rest of the world industrialized.
By the time they realized how far behind they'd fallen, it was too late—foreign powers carved up their economy like a pie."
She tapped on the screen, switching slides.
"Or Tsarist Russia. The elite ignored growing unrest for decades.
They thought tradition would hold the empire together.
Instead, they got a revolution and a bullet to the head."
A few students shifted in their seats.
"And in more recent memory… Kodak.
They invented the digital camera, but refused to shift from film. You know what happened next? Bankruptcy."
She stepped away from the screen and turned to face the class directly.
"The point is—systems don't care how long you've been at the top. If you can't adapt, you're erased."
Silence lingered.
Then her voice dropped lower.
"This school isn't exempt. Just like the real world, it rewards those who evolve— and punishes those who don't."
She closed her folder with a snap.
Interesting.
Adapt or die.
That's what she was saying.
Most of my classmates had slouched over their desks, some already on their phones, while others quietly re-read their notes or flipped through textbooks.
Reika reached into her bag and pulled out her usual book. I watched as she opened it, her movements calm and deliberate. She glanced at me from the corner of her eye—her brow twitching with a mix of feigned curiosity and mild irritation.
A brief silence hung in the air.
Then Miyu straightened her posture.
"You shouldn't rest easy," she said, her tone firm and pointed. She didn't elaborate immediately, drawing our attention.
"An all-subjects exam will be held on April 13th," she continued. "Each subject carries a reward—up to 500 Credits depending on your score."
The sound of chatter filled the room again—some students were excited, while others whispered cautiously among themselves.
"Really!? 500 Credits per subject!? I'll be rich!" a boy across the room shouted, springing up from his seat. His dark, puffed-up hair bounced as he moved, and his wide black eyes sparkled with excitement. A grin stretched across his face—open, toothy, like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time.
His name was Tadashi Mushano.
My first impression? He didn't seem like someone worth paying attention to. Loud, playful, always bothering people—and the kind who shamelessly simps over every girl he sees.
Pathetic. At least to me.
Miyu let out a brief chuckle—but it faded just as quickly. Her expression shifted. The softness in her face tightened, and her eyes turned cold, focused. Not angry, but precise. Like someone delivering a sentence, not a warning.
"If you fail three subjects…" she said, her voice calm but firm, "…you'll be expelled."
Expelled.
The word landed like a weight.
The room fell dead silent.
No laughter. No whispers. Just the hum of the projector and the sudden awareness of tension in the air.
"W-What…?" Tadashi muttered, slumping back into his chair. The grin he wore earlier was gone—replaced with wide, blinking eyes and a stunned expression, as if he hadn't fully processed what he'd just heard.
I've never seen Miyu so serious.
I glanced toward Reika.
She was already looking at me—face blank as always—but we both understood.
We had to take this seriously.
Miyu let out a soft, almost playful chuckle.
We turned back our attention to her.
"Looks like you all just got a little less confident," she teased, setting her folder down on the desk. "My advice? Find some study buddies—if you want to survive, that is."
Her tone was sweet but dripping with mischief.
"This school's got its own way of teaching lessons."
I'm curious how this'll play out.
Will most of us pass… or will someone end up gone before we even settle in?
Hard to tell if it's just a test—or the start of something bigger.