—
The break was short, as it was only a week, and it flew by, almost too fast for my liking. At least nothing unexpected had happened during this time. The festival committee had started at a slow pace, but we quickly gained momentum. Our theme and budget were finalised well ahead of schedule. Hazel submitted the proposal to the school secretary, Mr Leandro Daugherty, and it was promptly approved, clearing the way for the next stage.
Now, I stood backstage, listening to the muffled sound of students filing into their seats filtered through the curtain. This was my first official address as student council president. It was a simple task, yet I felt more nervous than I had during the election.
A tap on my shoulder pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Furuya-sensei behind me, dressed in a sharp brown suit.
“Furuya-sensei, a pleasure to see you again,” I said, exercising cutesy in our encounter.
“A pleasure indeed, Marcus,” he replied with a nod. “How are you finding the position so far?”
“I’m still adjusting, but nothing I can’t handle,” I said, aiming for humble confidence.
“Good. The first impression sets the tone for everything that follows…but no pressure, of course.” He chuckled softly, then glanced toward the stage. “Well, time to begin.”
Below the stage, orchestra members took their positions. Among them, I spotted Diya, cradling her violin with care. She adjusted her bow and took a deep breath as Furuya-sensei walked out.
“All stand,” he commanded, and the students rose in near-perfect unison. “Begin the anthem.”
The orchestra came to life as the conductor raised his baton. Strings, brass, and woodwinds blended in harmony. The performance lasted about a minute and then came her solo, a beautiful finale that left the auditorium spellbound. I watched as Diya’s bow moved with fluid precision, her expression serene.
As her final note faded, Furuya-sensei’s voice broke the silence.
“All sit.”
The students obeyed quickly.
“I’d like to welcome everyone back to the final semester of the school year.”
He began with the usual opening remarks, then turned and gestured toward me.
“How about a few words from our student council president, Marcus Luna, before I proceed?”
This was unexpected. Traditionally, the president spoke at the end of assemblies. Perhaps this change was meant to test me. Either way, I had no choice but to answer the call. I took a deep breath and straightened my posture.
The lights struck me as I stepped onto the stage, forcing a squint before my vision adjusted. The sea of faces stretched out before me, rows upon rows of students watching. I was quick to block out the distractions and focused on what was needed from me.
I remembered the aura Hotaka carried when he took the stage. Should I try to emulate that? Or do things my way?
I tapped the microphone, and a burst of feedback caught everyone’s attention.
“Good morning, everyone,” I began. “Now that I have your attention, I’ll keep this quick. It’s my first time addressing you as student council president, and while I have plenty to say, let’s be honest—that would probably bore you, wouldn’t it?”
A few chuckles rippled through the room. I hadn’t meant to be funny, but I welcomed it.
“This semester is an important one. The new ranking system will be introduced, and I’m sure our director will explain it in full… I won’t steal his thunder.” I paused briefly before continuing. “More importantly, we’ve got the cultural festival ahead. The committee’s been working hard, and we’ll share details soon. For now, I wish you all the best in what’s sure to be a challenging but rewarding term. Thank you.”
My conclusion was met with a round of applause. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was genuine or just a courtesy extended to anyone who took the stage, but I had done my part. I stepped away from the microphone and moved to the side of the stage, and Furuya-sensei returned to centre stage.
“Thank you, Marcus,” he said with a nod, then faced the students. “Now, as mentioned, I’ll introduce the new ranking system. I implore you all to listen carefully.”
Furuya-sensei adjusted his glasses. “The new ranking system,” he began, “has been fully integrated with the school’s infrastructure. From today, each of you will be evaluated across six areas: linguistic, logical-mathematical, musical, bodily-kinaesthetic, spatial, and social intelligence.”
The two large displays on either side of the stage flashed to life behind him. They were showing a vibrant, segmented wheel labelled with each category, marking the first time these screens had been used.
“These intelligences,” he said, gesturing toward the screens, “aren’t just academic measures. They reflect your unique strengths. Each carries equal weight and contributes to your overall rank score, determining your progress, your value to your class, and your place in this academy.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “But understand this,” he said, voice dropping, “Hachin Academy is a place for exceptional students. We do not tolerate complacency or mediocrity. Those of you who fall below a rank score of 50 will risk immediate expulsion.”
The reaction was immediate, and gasps and murmurs erupted, spreading like wildfire. Furuya-sensei remained still, letting the tension linger before continuing.
“You will not be alone in this journey. Your class ranking will depend not only on your individual scores but also on the strength of your teamwork, your participation in events, and your performance in special exams.”
“The class that rises to the top,” Furuya-sensei continued, “will earn exclusive privileges and greater access to resources.”
He raised his hand again. The screens shifted to a chart showing various campus shops and services, each with point values beside them.
“Your rank, both individual and class, determines how many points you receive. These points will replace traditional currency on campus. From meals to services to luxuries, the higher your rank, the more freedom you’ll have.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
I studied the numbers. The point system had a 1:1 conversion rate with the Japanese Yen, making its value easy to grasp.
Furuya-sensei’s gaze swept the crowd. “To ensure the system’s full integration, all students will receive standard school devices starting today. These are tailored to work seamlessly with the ranking system and digital currency. You have until the end of the week to transfer your information, contacts, and files to the new device. Rest assured, your personal phones will be securely stored and returned upon graduation or if you leave the academy.”
A brief silence followed, then murmurs rippled through the hall again. Unbothered, Furuya-sensei pressed on.
“This step ensures fairness and unity within the system. These devices will streamline your daily interactions and make the new infrastructure accessible to everyone.”
He returned his attention to the screens, where a visual of the sleek new devices appeared, complete with step-by-step instructions on how to transfer data.
“Distribution begins today. You’ll be directed to collection points after this assembly. Take this process seriously… these devices will be essential to life at Hachin Academy.”
He turned back to the crowd. “Consider this an opportunity to shape your destiny. This system values all forms of intelligence. Don’t just think about what you can achieve alone; think about what your class can accomplish together.”
He paused then, his lips curled into a smile.
“The strong shall remain, and the weak shall be culled. Students of Hachin Academy, I welcome you all to a new era.”
—
—
The rhythmic patter of rain against the plastic canopy provided a soothing backdrop as I sipped my soft drink, purchased with the new digital currency—points, as they were called. This was a rest area that was located on the far side of the school; because of this, it was a good place to meet up and discuss.
I wasn’t alone; I leaned back against the bench, glancing sideways at Amelie, who had arrived shortly after I did, her dark red hair slightly damp from the drizzle. She sat with her SPARC, Student Progress and Academic Rank Console, propped up against her knee, the screen’s blue glow highlighting her focused expression.
Though I’d transferred my data onto my SPARC, I hadn’t explored its features yet. Truthfully, I was more preoccupied with other pressing matters than the technical marvel of the device.
Soon, the crunch of gravel signalled someone else’s arrival. Tomiko strolled over, unfazed by the rain.
Amelie shook her head, and I waved off her concern. “No worries, you’re just in time. I’m sure you’ve both seen what the new ranking system entails.”
Amelie lifted her SPARC and flipped through the updated sections of the student handbook. “I’ll admit, it’s a lot more detailed and complex than I expected,” she said.
“Exactly,” I agreed, turning to Tomiko. “That brings me to something else. What’s the situation with Mariah?”
“Her? She’s on a tight leash,” Tomiko said bluntly. “Ever since last semester, she’s been docile. She knows I’m onto her, so she’s keeping a low profile. Dumb girl.” Her harsh tone left no room for sympathy. “I’ve tried digging into the Purity Group, but they’re slippery. Most members keep their identities hidden even from each other.”
She was right about that; however, that didn’t mean identifying some of them was hard.
“Still,” I said, “you seem more invested in them than I expected.”
Tomiko chuckled. “It’s not like I’m worried about you or anything. You’ve proven you can handle yourself.” She flicked a strand of damp hair over her shoulder. “But it’s fascinating, really… how stupidly bold they are. And with one of them in my class, I can’t just sit back and ignore it, can I?”
Her reason for being invested in this made sense, as I could see myself acting on that same logic for the most part.
“Amelie, I think it’s time I take action,” I said, meeting her gaze. She nodded slightly, understanding immediately what I meant without needing an explanation.
Tomiko glanced between us. “You two seem awfully close. What’s this about?”
I folded my arms. “I asked Amelie to keep an eye on two of her classmates for me—two people, specifically: Ohara Kameko and Andre Hansen.”
Tomiko raised a brow as she crossed her legs. “I don’t know Ohara, but why Andre? He doesn’t seem like the type to try anything rash.”
Andre is the top student in Class 3. His academic performance has been impeccable since the day he was admitted. Yet, despite his brilliance, he stayed shy and withdrawn, avoiding attention. Even during school events, he rarely participated unless absolutely necessary. I hadn’t figured this out on my own; the intel came from Diya, the school’s unofficial know-it-all.
“I wouldn’t have thought anything of it either,” I admitted, “until I caught him talking to Cohen during my visit to confront him about his so-called of Harley.” My tone alone conveyed the air quotes. “Andre was speaking to him and left the moment he saw me. At first, I brushed it off, but later, when I started connecting dots, it felt off.”
Tomiko drummed her nails on the bench. “If Andre’s working with Cohen, that’s a problem; the question is why? Could you be hinting at the fact that he is a member of the purity group?”
I turned to face Amelie and gestured for her to share her observations. “Sorry to ruin the fun,” she said, “but Andre’s clean… or at least, I haven’t seen anything suspicious. Same old isolation routine.”
Interestingly, I had once suspected Andre was part of the Purity Group, but recent intel ruled that out; however, that didn't mean he was in the clear. There was another thing I suspect Andre of being—the onlooker.
The Onlooker had yet to act, but considering Andre’s personality and the timing of everything, it lines up. He fits the profile of someone intelligent, invisible, and always watching. And something Cohen said before leaving pointed me toward him.
“Well, apart from Ohara,” Amelie added, “there’s someone else I stumbled on—Aryan Sanders.”
The name caught me off guard.
“Aryan? You can’t be serious,” Tomiko said, a note of disappointment in her voice.
“You know him?” I asked, intrigued by her reaction, and Tomiko stood abruptly.
“It’s a complicated history,” she said, with a hint of bitterness lacing her voice. “We’ve both moved on. I knew he was stupid, but not stupid enough to join that group. To think he keeps finding new ways to disappoint me, even now.”
It seems they both had a long tale between them, one I’d love to dig into someday. Maybe I could get it out of Tomiko if I stayed on her good side.
For now, Aryan’s connection to the Purity Group took priority. He was in my class. I’d never ruled out the possibility that one of my classmates might be involved, but I didn’t expect confirmation so soon. A memory surfaced of back when I asked for advice about running in the student council election; Aryan was the first to dissuade me. It had seemed like a passing opinion at the time, but now, with this new revelation, his actions took on a different light.
“Are you certain he’s involved?” I asked Amelie.
“With what I’ve found, it’s not definitive,” she admitted. “But there comes a point where coincidence stops being coincidence and becomes intent. I think we’ve passed that point.”
There was no hard proof, but the signs were strong. And where there’s smoke, there’s fire.
“It’s settled then. I’ll investigate further, but I want to make my intentions clear.” My eyes dart between Amelie and Tomiko. “I’m going to take full advantage of the ranking system. Do either of you have any objections?”
“I understand what you mean,” Tomiko said.
“Same here,” Amelie added after a brief pause. It means I didn't need to explain any further. “My priority is keeping peace between the classes. Anyone who threatens that should face the consequences.”
It was her way of backing me, even if indirectly; now all that was left was for Tomiko's answer. She exhaled sharply and returned to her seat.
“I’ll echo what Furuya-sensei said earlier,” she began. “The strong shall remain, and the weak shall be culled. I’ve already planned to use the ranking system as the school intended it—to weed out those who don’t belong. So no, I don’t mind you doing the same.”
“And Aryan?” I asked.
Tomiko gave a low, humourless laugh. “Aryan? I couldn’t care less what happens to him.”
That was her answer. I took a deep breath, stepping toward the edge of the covered area. Extending my hand, I let the cool drops fall onto my palm before clenching my fist. Water slipped between my fingers as I turned back to face them.
“We’re all in agreement,” I said. “We’ll use the ranking system as it was designed. To cull. Simple as that.”
“They’re members of your classes too,” I added, sweeping my gaze over them. “So I wanted you to hear it from me before I take action.”
“Using the system, I will expel Aryan, Mariah, and Kameko from this school.”
What’s left are just the side stories, so sit back and enjoy those as usual.