Then the door opened.
In walked Yukishiro Reika.
A woman in her mid-30s, short black hair sharp as a blade, suit pristine, clipboard gripped in one hand like a judge's gavel. The room went still.
She stood in silence.
Her gaze swept the room with the precision of a scalpel, cutting, analyzing, weighing. Some students looked away. Others straightened unconsciously.
She walked slowly to the front and then turned.
Welcome to Seiryuu Academy, she said clearly. I am your homeroom instructor, Yukishiro Reika.
Pause.
Then her tone dropped.
Before you get too comfortable, let me show you how this school truly works.
A click. Her pen tapped the clipboard once. Sharp.
From Class D, 250 students will be expelled by the end of the year. Class C: 50. Class B: 80. Class A...remains untouched.
Gasps echoed. Murmurs bubbled.
A boy raised his hand shakily. Why only 50 from Class C...?
Reika smiled, a curve without warmth.
Class C is our testing ground. Some years, none are expelled. Others... half vanish within days. The reason? Variable curriculum. You're not supposed to understand it. You're supposed to survive it.
She moved from behind the podium and began pacing between the rows.
Class D... is the trash pile. That's you. You’re here not because you were unlucky, but because the system saw nothing special. The school doesn’t hate you. It simply sees you as replaceable.
She stopped at a desk. A boy tried not to meet her eyes.
Even the elites, those with money, prestige, or bloodlines, are bound by Seiryuu’s laws. This place...
She tapped his desk.
...has no gods.
Silence filled the air as students began to ponder their life choices.
Then she turned to the board. Her fingers danced across the smart panel. A holographic chart flickered to life beside her.
This is the class schedule. First period begins in twenty minutes.
Then, she walked to the center again.
Stand. One by one. Introduce yourselves. Speak clearly. Your past means nothing here.
One by one, they obeyed.
Akari Minowa. Former student council president. I enjoy classical music.
Kenji Maburo. I… make games. Coding stuff.
And so it continued.
Some gave rehearsed bios. Others muttered, anxious and uncertain. When Rin’s turn came—
Rin Akagari.
That was it. Calm, short.
Reika’s gaze lingered. She wrote something on her clipboard. Rin sat.
After the last student introduced themselves, Reika didn’t leave.
She circled once more.
Last year, a girl in Class D made it to Class B. She was kind. Smart. Talented. Then she trusted someone from Class C.
Reika’s voice dropped.
She disappeared. When we found her, she’d jumped from the observation deck. Don’t ask what happened. Just remember the mistake: trust.
No one moved.
She looked around one last time.
Don’t get attached. This class is a war zone. Every smile hides strategy. Every friend is temporary. The sooner you accept that, the longer you’ll last.
And with that, she walked out, slowly, with control, as if daring anyone to challenge her authority.
The door shut behind Reika with a solid click.
Out in the hallway, her heels tapped lightly against the floor, her expression unreadable as always. A few steps ahead, Jun Mikado leaned casually against a nearby pillar, arms crossed, one foot up against the wall like he had all the time in the world.
His whistle gleamed faintly under the fluorescent lights.
“Leaving already?” he asked, not turning his head.
Reika stopped right beside him, her presence immediate—confident, magnetic. Her perfume was subtle, but impossible to ignore.
“Ten minutes until class begins,” she said, checking her slim black watch. “They don’t need me for all of it.”
Jun tilted his head, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “And here I thought you’d enjoy watching the cracks form. You always liked to see who shatters first.”
“They’re too quiet,” Reika replied, voice low.
Jun finally faced her, reading her expression. “You’re worried?”
“I’m observant,” she said. Her gaze drifted past him, like she could still see the classroom through the walls. “Most of them carry fear like a badge. That’s expected at least, But some didn'teven flinch at the metion of Class D being the trash pile and the expulsion rates”
Jun’s smirk faded, just a little. “Like the one we flagged yesterday?”
She said nothing—but her silence was an answer.
Jun chuckled. “He’s not even in your class, is he?”
“No. But students like him are dangerous to control.”
He gave a low whistle, amused. “Sounds like someone I used to know.”
Reika moved closer—just one step—and slammed her palm flat against the wall beside his head. The thud echoed down the empty corridor. Jun flinched, just slightly, his shoulder brushing against her chest.
He stiffened—not from fear, but because she was too close. Her presence swallowed the space between them. Her amber eyes locked on his, sharp with warning.
“Don’t compare me to him,” she said, voice a whisper, but edged like a blade. “You know better.”
Jun raised both hands, mock surrender. “Alright, alright… point taken.”
She didn’t move, not immediately. Her eyes held his a moment longer.
“Don’t forget what we talked about yesterday,” she said. “This year won’t be like the last. Everything’s already in motion.”
Then she leaned back, straightened her coat, and turned with a flick of her hair.
Jun watched her walk down the hall, her silhouette sharp against the sterile white light.
He didn’t speak.
Just stared after her.
His thoughts drifted to the meeting—the Founder’s presence, the layered looks shared between instructors, the sealed files on the table that only some dared open.
Yeah... this year was going to be different.
He glanced back at the classroom door, then down at his whistle.
“…Class D, huh?”
He exhaled.
“This’ll be fun.”
-----
Elsewhere on campus...
The lighting here was worse, flickering panels and cracked tiles. Long shadows danced against lockers dented from years of use.
Thuds echoed off concrete.
A boy was slammed against the wall.
Trying to suck up to Class A. huh? leoric said, voice dripping with scorn.
Leoric Vantare, a Class C student with silver hair and flawless posture, wiped his knuckles with a silk cloth. Around him, two other Class C delinquents laughed, one with dyed red hair and a bandaged jaw, the other thick-built with a cracked grin.
The victim was slumped on the ground, blood dripping from his nose. His books were strewn across the floor.
P-Please… I didn’t mean anything by it…! I was just trying to fit in with the Class A kids…the boy whimpered.
Leoric leaned in, his voice low and sharp.
You thought that mouth of yours wouldn’t cost you something?
He kicked the boy again, harder this time.
Around here, every word has weight. You just signed your debt with your tongue. Leoric said.
The boy coughed, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth as Leoric’s gang surrounded him like jackals. His limbs trembled, but he forced himself to look up at the towering figure above him.
I–I’m sorry…Please forgive me he stammered, pain lacing his voice. If you let me go i won't tell the teacher's …
Leoric stared at him for a moment, unmoved.
He then, crouched down slowly with calmness that made it worse. He reached out, and with deliberate ease, grabbed the boy by the collar.
The boy flinched hard, a choked gasp escaping his throat as Leoric pulled him just enough so their faces were close. The boy's eyes widened in horror, locked onto Leoric’s own. His breath hitched. His body stiffened not from pain, but from pure, suffocating fear.
Everything in his instincts screamed to run, but there was nowhere to go.
Leoric’s grip wasn’t aggressive. It wasn’t rushed. That was what made it terrifying. It was quiet. Precise. Like someone who knew exactly how much fear to draw out before they break.
I hate trash that thinks they're clever, he muttered, voice low and cutting.
He leaned in closer, his breath cold against the boy’s ear.
You don’t rise up in Seiryuu by kissing up. You rise by stomping down. Welcome to the real game, even if you tell the teacher they can't do anything to me. I AM LEORIC VANTARE, Son of the vantare household.
Without waiting for a reply, Leoric then slammed a punch into the boy’s abdomen. A sickening thud echoed against the alley walls.
The red-haired goon snorted. Should we strip him and hang his uniform in the courtyard?
Leoric chuckled. No need. He's not worth the spectacle.
He rose, brushing off his sleeves.
You two handle cleanup. I have somewhere to be.
Where to boss? the bigger one asked.
Leoric’s lips curled into a cruel smile.
Someone interesting just entered this academy. I’m curious if he’ll bark… or bite.
He walked away, shadows following like obedient dogs.
-----
Back in class D....
For a long second, the class sat in silence, each student digesting the brutal truth reika left behind. 250 would be expelled. That number hit like a blade to the gut.
But like any room full of first years trying to mask nerves, the silence didn't last.
Murmurs broke out. Small conversations. Nervous laughs. Some students clung together quickly, forming alliances like survivors on a sinking ship. Others stayed quiet, the weight of Reika’s warning sealing their lips.
Rin stayed at his desk, elbows on the table, hands folded.
He wasn’t sure whether to process the expulsion rates, the stiff air of competition, or the way Reika’s gaze lingered on him more than the others. Her stare had felt surgical, like she was already writing him off.
And yet… it didn’t bother him as much as it should have.
He leaned back slightly, eyes on the class schedule still glowing faintly on the screen. First period, nearing fast. Fourth period was Gym. There was no subject title next to period one, which made him more uneasy than he’d admit.
A blank first class? What's that about..Rin wondered
He reached into his bag to double-check the placement of his ID card when—
Hello.
The sudden voice jolted him out of his thoughts.
He looked up, instinctively guarded.
A girl stood beside his desk, smiling softly. Her posture was casual, her expression warm, but her eyes… something about them was off.
Rin blinked. Uh… hey?
You looked a little tense when you introduced yourself, she said with a polite tilt of the head. You didn’t say much at all.
He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to respond. Yeah, well…I didn’t think I needed to say that much.
She giggled and said... That's Fair.
A short silence passed between them.
…So, Rin said, wary, who are you?
[Author's note: aren't you supposed to know dumba*s, she introduced herself during the roll call :( ]
The girl placed a hand on her chest, as if amused he had to ask. Asuka Morishita. Transferred from Katsuragi High in Tokyo.
Katsuragi? Rin furrowed his brows. Never heard of it.
You’re not alone, she said sweetly. Most people haven’t. It was the top-ranked school in Tokyo last year. Very… exclusive.
Rin raised an eyebrow. If it was exclusive and top ranked, why’d you transfer?
She gave him a small, mysterious smile.
…That’s a secret. She said
Before he could respond, the sliding door at the front of the classroom snapped open with a brisk clack.
A tall man in a grey tracksuit stepped inside, shoulders broad, a whistle hanging from his neck and a binder in hand.
Asuka glanced toward the front, then looked back at Rin.
See you later… Rin Akagari, she whispered, turning with a flutter of her skirt and walking back to her seat like they hadn't just shared a strange moment.
Rin watched her go, eyes narrowing slightly.
Something’s off about her…
But the teacher was already at the podium.
He cleared his throat, his voice carrying with sharp clarity.
Morning, students. I’m Mikado Jun, and I’ll be your instructor for your first period, Combat Awareness.
Mikado dropped his binder onto the desk with a thud.
Unlike middle school, we don’t ease you in. This class separates the pretenders from the survivors.
He grinned, tight and unfriendly.
Let’s see who wants to stay in Seiryuu badly enough to earn it.
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