The black gates of Imperial High loomed like the entrance to another world. Cameras scanned each new arrival. Uniformed guards stood motionless. There was no warmth in the welcome—only precision.
A voice, cold and clear, echoed from hidden speakers:
"Welcome to Imperial High: a government-established institution to forge the leaders of tomorrow. Here, merit determines your fate. We offer freedom. Your choices shape your path."
Tachibana Renji didn't flinch at the announcement. He stepped through the gates with the crowd, his face blank. Other students looked excited, anxious, tense. He looked... bored.
He was used to lies like these.
Inside the enormous, marble-floored atrium, a massive holographic display rotated in midair. It showed four words, glowing in sequence:
Alpha. Beta. Gamma. Delta.
The classes. The hierarchy. The system.
Students stood clustered under the banners of their assigned classes. Alpha stood near the stage—sharp uniforms, confident smiles. Beta students followed. Gamma looked unsure. And Delta... they stood in the back, barely spoken to.
Renji joined the Delta students. They eyed him silently. To them, he was just another nobody.
He preferred it that way.
The opening ceremony began with fanfare, but the message was brutal.
"Freedom is the gift we give you," said the headmaster, a tall man with gray hair and steel-blue eyes. "Use it wisely, or lose it entirely. Your worth will be measured weekly. Excel, and you rise. Fail… and you disappear."
Eyes swept the crowd. Every student understood: this was not a school. It was a battlefield.
A young woman stepped up to the podium next. Long silver hair, ice blue eyes, a gaze like winter.
Kanzaki Erina. The Headmaster's daughter. Student Council President. Alpha Class.
She looked too perfect to be human.
"You are free to choose your path," she said, voice calm and deadly. "But don't forget—every choice has a cost."
Her eyes lingered on someone in the crowd. No one noticed. But Renji did.
She was looking at him.
Delta Class was the farthest from the main building—its classroom a plain concrete box at the edge of campus. The students murmured bitterly as they entered.
"This place looks like a storage room…"
"Why the hell am I in Delta?"
"I passed the written exam!"
Renji found his seat by the window.
Then she walked in.
Long black hair. Fair skin. Sharp eyes that cut like a knife. A calm Beauty. She sat beside him with quiet disdain.
Kanzaki Reina.
Even without the shared surname, her elegance made it obvious—she was related to Erina.
"Don't talk to me," soft voice but she said flatly without looking at him.
"I wasn't planning to," Renji replied without emotion.
Their homeroom teacher entered. She was young—mid-twenties, with a calm, cool face.
Miss Yuzuki Aira.
"I'll be brief," she said. "This is Delta Class. Statistically, most of you will be expelled within the year. But you're also the class with the most freedom. Less eyes. More chaos. Use it."
A pause.
"Also, we'll begin with a test."
The students froze.
"Already?" someone gasped.
Miss Aira handed each student a tablet. On it were four moral dilemmas, five logic puzzles, and ten social scenarios. They had thirty minutes.
"No right answers," she added. "Only insight."
Renji read through the test without reaction. The questions weren't difficult—but they were traps.
"A classmate is stealing exam materials. Do you report them?" "You overhear your teacher say the system is rigged. Do you leak it?" "You can save one student by sacrificing another. What do you do?"
They weren't testing knowledge. They were measuring instinct. Morality. Manipulability.
Renji answered each one slowly, deliberately—balancing honesty and ambiguity. Not too clean. Not too corrupt. Just unreadable.
He submitted his answers five seconds before the deadline.
That afternoon, class rankings were posted on the student portal. Each class had internal ranks. Reina sat near the top. A few boys were in the middle. Renji's name wasn't even listed.
He had erased his ID number from the submission metadata.
Miss Aira called him to the teacher's desk.
"You're not on the board," she said.
"I must've made a mistake," he replied calmly.
"I don't believe that."
He said nothing.
She studied him, then gave the faintest nod.
"Don't make a habit of it."
Meanwhile, Reina stood near the back window, arms folded, furious.
"I had the third-highest entrance exam score," she muttered. "Why am I in Delta?"
No one answered her. But Renji had overheard.
She needs credibility. He thought. Social value.
That evening, he left anonymous comments on the student forum using fake accounts, praising Reina's calm under pressure during the test.
By morning, Delta Class was whispering about her leadership potential.
She didn't know it, but Renji had just started building her throne.
The next day, an announcement shook the school.
"All classes will participate in a strategic survival game on campus. Points will be awarded for leadership, cooperation, and creativity. This is your first inter-class special test."
Delta panicked.
"What kind of test is this?!"
"We haven't even settled in!"
"Alpha and Beta are going to destroy us!"
Reina took control, surprisingly.
"We need a plan," she said sharply. "We can't win with strength. We need to survive longer."
Renji stepped forward, quietly.
"We should split up," he said. "Hide. Move in pairs. Don't engage. We survive by not being noticed."
Reina stared at him.
"You're not wrong," she said, "but that's not leadership."
"I'm not trying to lead," he replied.
And he wasn't. He was trying to control—from the shadows.
During the test, Delta followed Reina's orders—but those orders were based on Renji's whispered suggestions. He mapped the school layout from memory, predicted Beta's movements, and triggered a silent alarm near Gamma's area to mislead them.
Delta didn't win—but they ranked second, shocking everyone.
Reina got all the credit.
But Miss Aira watched Renji with knowing eyes.
And Kanzaki Erina… requested a private meeting.
That night, Renji slipped into the old observatory tower, long since abandoned.
She was already there.
Erina stood by the window, moonlight on her hair, holding a file.
"Delta's performance surprised many," she said. "Not me."
He didn't answer.
"You're better hidden than I expected," she continued. "I looked into you, Renji. I know what blood runs in your veins."
Still no reaction.
"I also know what you gave up. You were supposed to be in Alpha."
"…I chose Delta."
"Why?"
He met her eyes. Calm. Empty.
"To see how deep the lie goes."
A smile played on her lips.
"I'll be watching, then."
"So will I."
They stood in silence, staring out at the vast school—both predators in the same cage.