"Sayuri, are you awake?"
It arrived. Again. The presence I'd anticipated.
My classmate in 1-F.
She was pretending to sleep, even though she knew it wouldn't do much good. It wasn't exactly a threat, but her insistence had the precision of an alarm set to interrupt me at exactly the right moment.
Several possible scenarios ran through my head:
ignore her, respond, or manipulate the situation to maintain control.
I decided to implement Initial Strategy A: "fake sleep."
Simple. Efficient. Almost foolproof... in theory.
"If you don't wake up in three seconds, you'll face consequences."
Three seconds. Not enough time for a good simulation.
The threat didn't sound dangerous, but it was inevitable.
"As expected... you were awake."
I opened my eyes. In front of me was Kaori Hasegawa, my future classmate assigned by the Kurohana Academy adaptation committee.
Black hair, impeccable posture, sharp gaze.
She conveyed no emotion, but her presence was firm, calculated, like a mirror forcing me to analyze myself.
"So, what do you want me to do?" I asked, choosing each word with surgical precision. "I probably already know what you're going to say."
"I'm going with you. And if you try to ignore me, you'll be in trouble."
"Trouble."
An interesting word. Ambiguous.
Not enough to intimidate me, but enough to make me consider strategic alternatives.
Kaori was the kind of person who carried out her warnings without drama.
A variable that was good to keep close.
Two months earlier.
The train was full.
The cold air that entered through the cracks made each breath seem like an inexact calculation.
Around me, young people in academy uniforms chatted, laughed, and exchanged expectations about the future.
I watched.
An old woman staggered in front of me.
I could help her, of course. But it wasn't necessary.
My interest wasn't in the action, but in the observation.
In seeing who, among so many applicants, was capable of acting out of conviction and not instinct.
No one did.
A few steps away, a blond student was arguing with an office worker over priority seating.
A banal, but useful scene.
Ego, morality, and logic in conflict, all condensed into a minimal dispute.
The kind of situation that revealed more than any psychological exam.
I simply crossed my arms and waited.
My hypothesis was confirmed: under low pressure, most people preferred to appear indifferent rather than expose themselves to social judgment.
Then I heard her for the first time.
"I think we should all listen a little," said a firm voice next to me.
I turned slightly. Kaori was there.
Her tone was neutral, her gaze imperturbable.
She wasn't seeking attention, just poise.
And that... was interesting.
The train moved forward, and as it reached the terminal station, the crowd descended with murmurs.
The bright sign for Kurohana Academy welcomed us:
"We shape those who will build tomorrow."
Not a threat.
A promise.
As we walked along the platform, Kaori stopped me with a precise gesture.
"Sayuri, you looked at me a moment ago. Why?"
"Just curious," I replied without hesitation. "I noticed that you didn't give up your seat for the old woman either."
"Exactly. I didn't see the point in doing so. I act according to my own rules, not out of habit or social pressure."
Her response was so logical that I almost smiled.
For the first time, someone spoke my language.
That day I realized that Kaori Hasegawa wasn't an obstacle, but a controlled variable.
A possible ally.
For now.
We walked to school side by side, without speaking, with an almost awkward synchronicity.
Between the footsteps and the murmurs of the others, I had a clear certainty:
in Kurohana, no one would play fair.
And to survive here, thinking wasn't enough.
Every relationship had to be calculated... like a human equation.