The classroom smelled of fresh varnish and untouched chalk. Afternoon sun filtered in through the large windows, bathing the rows of wooden desks in warm golden light.
Seiji Koroizumi placed his bag down and took his seat. The location was strategic: the back row, near the window. The sacred seat of anime protagonists, he thought with amusement, though he felt more like a "producer" than a lead actor.
Behind him, the sound of a chair shifting with precision could be heard.
"Don't block my view of the blackboard, Koroizumi-kun," Horikita Suzune's calm voice reached his ears.
Seiji turned slightly, offering a crooked smile. "My head isn't that big, Horikita. Unless you're counting my brain volume, of course."
Suzune snorted softly, opening her textbook. "Narcissism is contagious, apparently. Be careful, or you'll end up like the Blondie over there."
Seiji glanced toward Koenji Rokusuke, who was examining his fingernails meticulously, as if they were precious historical artifacts.
Class 1-D began to fill up. The energy in the room was chaotic. There was the naive excitement of those who felt they had reached paradise, the anxiety of those who felt out of place, and the cold calculation of the handful who realized the oddity of this school.
Seiji observed it all. He saw patterns. He saw potential.
"Alright, everyone!"
A bright voice cut through the classroom noise. A young man with brown hair, a friendly face, and a natural aura of leadership stood up from his seat.
Hirata Yosuke.
"Since we're going to be classmates for the next three years, how about we introduce ourselves? I think it's a good first step to building trust," Hirata suggested with a smile that everyone liked—the type of smile that reminded Seiji of Isogai, the class representative of the old Class 3-E. Too kind, perhaps a bit fragile, but sincere.
The awkward atmosphere in the classroom began to thaw. Several female students immediately agreed with enthusiasm.
"Great idea!" "I agree!"
Hirata nodded. "In that case, I'll start. My name is Hirata Yosuke. I was in the soccer club in junior high, and I plan to continue playing here. My hobbies are sports in general. Nice to meet you all."
A perfect introduction. Clean, friendly, and established his position as the social center of the class.
The introduction relay began.
"My name is Kushida Kikyo," the girl beside Seiji stood up.
Seiji pricked up his ears. The old Kushida would have used a high-pitched voice and pretended to want to be friends with everyone to a nauseating degree. But this Kushida... she was different.
Kushida stood casually, one hand on her hip. Her smile was there, but it was a confident "cool" smile, not a manufactured sweet one.
"I'm from Yabu Junior High. I like efficient things and hate unnecessary drama," Kushida said, her eyes sweeping the class with a sharp but non-hostile gaze. "I hope we can work well together to get through these three years without killing each other—metaphorically, of course. Cheers."
She sat back down.
Some of the male students (including Ike and Yamauchi) looked a little intimidated but captivated. "Cool girl," Ike whispered.
Seiji smiled faintly. Good, Kushida. Measured honesty is far more attractive than sweet falsehoods.
The turns continued.
"Umm... my name is Inogashira Kokoro..." a shy girl spoke in a whisper, barely audible. "My hobby is... sewing. Please take care of me." She sat down quickly, her face bright red.
Then there was Yamauchi Haruki.
"My name is Yamauchi Haruki!" he exclaimed, trying too hard. "In junior high, I was the ace of the baseball team! I was almost recruited by a pro team, but I turned them down for this school. Oh, and I'm also dating a magazine model!"
Seiji sighed deeply in his mind. Lie. Lie. And lie.
Yamauchi's micro-expressions—the rapid blinking, the gaze darting to the upper right—all screamed fabrication. This kid seeks recognition in a pathetic way, Seiji noted.
Next, Ike Kanji.
"I'm Ike Kanji! I like cute girls and camping! Anyone who wants to have fun, come talk to me!"
Energetic, but dense. The type who is easily manipulated but loyal if guided correctly.
The relay continued past the other girls.
"Satou Maya. Hey." A fashionable girl who looked relaxed. "Hasebe Haruka. I like sweets. Don't disturb me when I'm sleeping." A girl with a lazy but intelligent look. "Matsushita Chiaki. Nice to meet you." A girl who looked average, but Seiji caught a glint of calculation in her eyes. She was hiding her abilities.
Then, it was the turn of the young man in the back corner.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka stood up slowly.
"My name is Ayanokouji Kiyotaka," his voice was flat, monotone, without a shred of emotional inflection. "Hobbies... nothing specific. Skills... also none. I will try not to stand out. Please take care of me."
He sat back down as quickly as he had stood up.
The class was silent for a moment, confused by how incredibly boring that introduction was.
But Seiji saw it.
It was high-level stealth. Ayanokouji was deliberately making himself "air."
Perfect camouflage, Seiji thought in awe. He made himself the least important person in the room, even though he might be the deadliest.
Now, it was Seiji's turn.
He stood up. His posture was relaxed, yet there was a certain gravity that shifted the class's attention to him.
"My name is Koroizumi Seiji," he said in a pleasant baritone voice. He smiled—not a student's smile, but a smile that was older, wiser. "My hobby is teaching... I mean, learning. Especially biology and human behavior. I like observing how people develop. I hope to see interesting growth from all of you."
The statement was ambiguous. Some thought him a nerd; others felt a mysterious tone that piqued their curiosity.
"Oh, and I like sweet foods. Gelato, specifically," he added with a cheerful tone typical of Koro-sensei, breaking the mysterious tension that had momentarily formed.
He sat back down. In front of him, Suzune turned slightly.
"You sound like an old man," Suzune whispered.
"I have an old soul, perhaps," Seiji replied.
It was Suzune's turn.
The girl stood up. Her short hair swayed slightly. She didn't smile, but she didn't radiate the aura of absolute rejection she once did.
"Horikita Suzune," she said firmly. "I came here to reach Class A. I'm not interested in unproductive friendships, but I respect competence. If you have the determination to move forward, I don't mind cooperating. That is all."
Firm. Pragmatic. But opening the door for cooperation. It was a massive improvement from "I don't need anyone."
And then, it was Karuizawa Kei's turn.
The blonde girl stood up. She played with the ends of her hair, but her eyes stared straight ahead.
"Karuizawa Kei," her voice was clear. "I like fashion. And one more thing..." She paused, her eyes locking momentarily on Seiji before sweeping the class. "I hate people who bully others. So, let's make sure this class has high standards, okay?"
Strong. She was no longer a victim. She set her own boundaries from day one.
Seiji felt like applauding.
The harmonious atmosphere, of course, did not last long.
The turn reached Koenji Rokusuke. He remained seated, his legs crossed on the desk impolitely.
"Hey, it's your turn," a student scolded.
Koenji combed his hair back. "My name is Koenji Rokusuke. As the only perfect entity in this room, I see no need to introduce myself to you commoners. Suffice it to know that the future of this school lies in my hands."
"What is up with that guy?" Ike muttered, annoyed.
"Just ignore it," Hirata said, trying to keep the peace. "Next..."
He pointed toward a red-haired young man with an athletic build and a face that looked perpetually angry.
Sudou Ken.
Sudou didn't stand up. Instead, he clicked his tongue loudly, slamming his headphones onto the desk.
"Tch. What the hell is this?" Sudou growled. "We aren't kindergarteners. 'Let's be friends,' 'let's hold hands'... it's disgusting. I don't want to take part in this stupid game."
The classroom atmosphere froze instantly. Hirata looked confused.
"B-but Sudou-kun, this is just to get to know one another..."
"I don't need to know you people!" Sudou snapped. "I came here just to play basketball and succeed. The rest doesn't matter. So shut up and don't bother me!"
Tension peaked. Other students began whispering in fear. Hirata was losing control of the situation.
Ayanokouji remained silent, observing. Suzune looked like she was about to say something harsh (which would definitely worsen the situation), but Seiji held her arm under the table.
Let me handle this, Seiji signaled with his eyes.
Seiji stood up slowly.
He didn't walk aggressively. He walked casually, as if taking a stroll in a park, heading toward Sudou's desk.
"Huh? What do you want?" Sudou barked as he saw Seiji approaching. "Here to lecture me?"
Seiji stopped right next to Sudou's desk. He looked at Sudou's rough, callused hands—the hands of someone who had handled a basketball for thousands of hours.
"Nice grip," Seiji said suddenly.
Sudou blinked. "Huh?"
"Calluses on your index and middle fingers," Seiji pointed out casually. "And the posture of your shoulders, slightly tilting to the right. You're a Shooting Guard, aren't you? Or maybe a Small Forward who likes to drive?"
Sudou fell silent, surprised. His anger subsided slightly, replaced by confusion.
"I... yeah, I'm a Shooting Guard. So what?"
Seiji smiled. "Basketball is an interesting sport. Five people on the court. One ball. If one person decides he doesn't need the other four, that team will crumble in the first quarter."
Sudou's face turned red. "I know how to play basketball! I'm great!"
"I'm sure you're great individually," Seiji nodded, his tone not condescending, but acknowledging. "But Sudou-kun, this school... this is a court far larger than a 28-meter hardwood floor."
Seiji leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only Sudou and those nearby could hear.
"Here, the 'match' started the moment we walked through the gates. And our enemies aren't just the other classes, but the system itself. You say you want to succeed? Good. But even the best Point Guard needs someone to catch his pass."
Seiji pointed toward Hirata, who was still standing awkwardly.
"Him," Seiji gestured to Hirata, "he might look soft to you. But he's the type of captain who can manage the rhythm. You need people like him to watch your back while you're busy scoring."
Sudou glanced at Hirata, then back at Seiji. His teenage ego was still rebelling, but the basketball logic penetrated his brain. Basketball language was the only language he respected.
"Furthermore," Seiji added, patting Sudou's shoulder gently—a pat that sent a signal of relaxation to Sudou's tense trapezius muscles. "If you don't introduce yourself, how will the basketball club scouts know the name of this new rookie monster?"
Sudou was silent for a few seconds. His heavy breathing began to calm.
"Tch," Sudou looked away, but he stood up. Rough. Awkward.
"Sudou Ken," he said curtly. "I'm going to be a pro basketball player. Don't get in my way."
He sat back down heavily.
It wasn't a friendly introduction, but it was an introduction.
Hirata exhaled in relief. "Thank you, Sudou-kun. And thank you, Koroizumi-kun."
Seiji shrugged, walking back to his seat. "Just a discussion between sports fans."
As he sat down, Suzune stared at his back.
"You manipulated him again," Suzune whispered. "Using a basketball analogy to tame him."
"Every student has a different 'door' to enter," Seiji replied without turning. "A teacher's job... ah, a friend's job, is to find the key."
In the back corner, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka's eyes narrowed slightly sharper.
He analyzed Sudou's physical structure in a glance. He used diplomacy tailored to the target's intellectual level. He resolved the conflict without creating enemies. Koroizumi Seiji... he is the biggest anomaly in this class.