As I observed the cafeteria, with the soft murmur of conversations floating through the air and the sound of trays clattering against the tables, I reflected on the last three days since this special exam began. I must admit, it's been quite dull, a routine without major surprises. Sure, that might be a relief for some, but for me, monotony isn't exactly exciting. Still, this steady pace has allowed us to adapt smoothly, which is a plus.
My teammates, after days of constant effort, have started to perform impressively. Among the first-year groups, I can confidently say that we are the best. How do I know? Well, I've been receiving information from friends in other teams. It seems that many of the other first-year groups aren't working as efficiently, and that's due to a common issue: the lack of camaraderie. Instead of seeing themselves as a team, many perceive each other as rivals, which inevitably affects group performance.
As I took a sip of my drink, my eyes wandered around the cafeteria, watching the various students. At every table, there were small signs of tension or poorly concealed competitiveness, while in my group, the atmosphere was much more collaborative. That's the reason why, after analyzing the different teams, I'm sure mine is the best among the first years. We stand out by a considerable margin.
Anyway, it's not like we've already won. The real challenge isn't so much in surpassing the others in our year but in facing the second and third-year teams. With leaders like Nagumo and Horikita at the helm, we know they have experience and skills that we must not underestimate. As I took a piece of bread, I paused to think about them: Nagumo, always a relentless strategist, and Horikita, with her cold and calculating approach. Both would be obstacles.
However, despite the difference in experience, I don't feel at a disadvantage. My team has shown a solid foundation in every aspect. We've prepared well, and if there's anything that separates us from the upper years, it's simply experience, nothing we can't overcome with effort and a well-thought-out strategy.
I smiled to myself as I chewed. The idea that my team could beat the second and third years isn't so far-fetched. It wouldn't be a surprise if we ended up winning, after all. But for now, it was just a matter of continuing to observe, keep improving, and wait for the real event to begin.
...
After finishing my lunch, I got up from the table and headed toward the bathrooms. The bustle of the cafeteria was the usual, mixed voices, occasional laughter, and the sound of cutlery clinking against trays. However, something caught my attention. A few meters from the door, I noticed a group of four girls surrounding a girl with lilac hair. Even from a distance, I immediately recognized the girl being bullied.
It was an awkward scene. The four girls didn't seem to be using force, but their tone and body language made it clear that the intimidation was verbal. Instead of intervening right away, I decided to stay where I was and watch, hoping the situation would resolve itself. It wasn't something that surprised me, but it wasn't something I liked to get involved in without reason.
After a few seconds, the girls walked away, leaving her alone. The lilac-haired girl, with her head down, remained still for a moment before slowly collapsing to the floor, hugging her knees. There were no signs of physical harm, but the verbal wounds were more than evident.
I took a deep breath and approached, my footsteps echoing slightly on the floor of the cafeteria, which was slowly emptying. I stopped in front of her, watching as she clutched her knees, lost in her own world of silent pain. She seemed so small at that moment, as if the weight of everything she was carrying was crushing her.
"Hey, little senpai, are you okay?" I said in a tone soft enough not to scare her but clear enough to pull her out of her trance.
She quickly raised her head, surprised, her eyes bright with unshed tears that she hadn't yet managed to hide.
"Osawa-kun!" she responded, and in a clumsy and quick movement, she tried to wipe her tears with the sleeves of her uniform, as if doing so could erase the trace of what had just happened.
I didn't want her to feel more embarrassed than she already was, but I wasn't someone who could just leave things like this either.
"Is something wrong, little senpai?" I asked, though the answer was obvious.
She averted her gaze, trying to maintain a facade of strength that easily crumbled under her own insecure gestures.
"N-no, nothing's wrong," she said in a tone that tried to sound convincing but miserably failed.
I sighed, knowing this wouldn't be so simple.
"Really? Then why are you crying? I don't think anyone cries for no reason," I insisted, trying to get closer to her, not just physically, but emotionally, in an attempt to get her to lower her guard.
"T-that's none of your business," she quickly replied, her gaze fixed on the floor as she tried to pull herself together. Her voice sounded fragile, as if she were struggling to maintain a facade of bravery that didn't truly exist.
"It seems things aren't going well in your group, right, senpai?" I said, watching her reaction.
Her shoulders tensed at my words, and her body shifted slightly backward as if my observation had hit her like an unexpected blow.
"You... you saw it, didn't you?" she finally muttered, realizing that I had witnessed the entire scene.
"Yes, it was a strange coincidence," I lied in a casual tone, as if the whole matter were something trivial when it clearly wasn't.
She stayed silent for a moment before looking at me with a more serious expression, though her eyes still reflected some fear and shame.
"Don't tell Horikita-kun about this," she requested in a tone that tried to be firm, but her fear of me telling him was evident.
I crouched down to her level, meeting her gaze. "Senpai, you're having a hard time in your group. I'm sure Horikita would help you if you asked him, you know that, right?"
She clenched her hands tightly, her gaze lost on the floor as her words came out with a mix of sadness and resignation. "Maybe... but I don't want to cause more trouble for Horikita-kun..."
"Are you saying you're going to let them keep bullying you and treating you like this?" I questioned her softly but without losing the firmness in my tone. It wasn't a question; it was more of a way to make her see the reality of what she was allowing.
She hugged her knees tighter, avoiding my gaze. "I... I'll find a way to solve it on my own. So please, don't tell Horikita-kun," her voice broke slightly, and I could see she was fighting with herself, trying to keep her composure.
I looked at her for a moment longer, seeing how the weight of her pride and her fear of being a burden was crushing her. But this matter was more important than she could imagine. I knew that if I didn't intervene, the situation would only get worse for her. I made a decision.
"Do you want me to help you, senpai?" I offered, leaning in a little toward her.
"You... help me?" her voice trembled slightly, full of doubt. Her lilac eyes lifted, locking onto mine with a mix of disbelief and caution.
I nodded with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Yes, since you don't want to ask Horikita for help, how about I help you?"
She frowned, clearly distrustful. "Why would you help me? What would you gain from that?" Her words were direct, even cutting, as if she expected there to be some trick hidden behind my offer. She had been in this school for over two years, and that experience had given her a sharpness to analyze others. She knew how things worked here. No one did anything without a motive.
I chuckled softly, trying to keep my tone light. "It seems you assume I want something from you. What if I just want to help my senpai because I care?" I replied, playing innocent.
"That would be a lie," she quickly countered, her gaze serious and firm. "You and I aren't close. You wouldn't help me just because."
I sighed, knowing I wouldn't convince her that easily. "Alright," I said, raising my hands in a gesture of surrender. "You're right. If you let me help you, I'll also gain something in return. But don't worry, this will benefit both of us."
She narrowed her eyes, more curious than before. "Benefit us?" she repeated, her tone still full of skepticism.
I nodded, leaning a bit closer to her as if we were about to share a secret. "That's right. If you accept my help, you won't regret it. I promise we'll both come out on top."
She remained silent for a few seconds, clearly weighing her options. Her hands, which had been clutching her knees, slowly loosened. Finally, she let out a sigh and raised her head to look me directly in the eyes.
"If you tell me how you plan to help me, and how we'll benefit without involving Horikita-kun, then I'll accept your help," she said firmly. It seemed that, no matter what, involving Horikita wasn't an option for her. Maybe out of pride, maybe for something else. But that played in my favor.
I smiled, satisfied that at least she was willing to listen. "Very well, little senpai. Now listen carefully to what you need to do from now on."
I made sure no one was paying attention to our conversation before leaning in a little closer and starting to explain the details of my plan. She watched me in silence as I spoke, and although she initially seemed skeptical, I saw her eyes gradually widen in surprise at what I was proposing. It was a risky plan, but if it worked, it would completely change the dynamics of the group she was trapped in.
The spark of determination in her eyes was enough to know she accepted my proposal, albeit with a hint of doubt. We parted silently, each heading off to fulfill our part of the plan. The little senpai disappeared among the dining hall's hallways, still unsure but with a newfound motivation. Now it was in her hands to make the first move.
As for me, it was time to move on to the next stage. I headed toward the exit, my steps calm yet confident, while my mind was already calculating the next encounter. There was another piece on this board that I needed to move, someone who would play a crucial role in my strategy. If I managed the situation properly, the scales would tip in our favor.
As I crossed the wide hallways of the building, a slight smile formed on my face. Everything depended on how we executed the plan, and if each player did their part correctly, the end of the exam could be much more interesting than anyone imagined.
Anticipation grew within me. There was nothing like a good game of strategy to keep me entertained. And when everything reached its climax, those who underestimated the little senpai and me would be in for a big surprise.
If all went well, the special exam would not only define the course of this event but mark the beginning of something much bigger.