A day of testing

The alarm resonated in the room at 6 a.m., its sharp sound breaking the silence of the early morning. It was the beginning of the first day of this special exam, and while it might have been a source of nerves for many, I got up without hurry, stretching a bit on the bunk. I wasn't worried. I had been through worse tests, and this exam, though new, didn't seem like a big deal to me.

I stood up and looked around the room. The first thing we were supposed to do, as they had instructed us, was our hygiene routine. Then, what seemed to be a novelty in this exam: cleaning our assigned areas as part of the daily order and cooperation activities.

Encouraging cooperation... I thought to myself. It didn't bother me, but it was a bit ironic that they were suddenly asking for something like this only in this exam.

The group I was assigned wasn't a bad team. Except for three people, the rest were classmates I had worked with before, which made things much easier. Plus, Hirata was here, which was always a relief. If there was anyone who could make these activities smooth and trouble-free, it was him.

While I adjusted my shirt, I heard his usual greeting full of energy.

"Good morning!" Hirata said, jumping down from his bunk with a fresh smile, as if he had slept a perfect eight hours.

"Good morning, Hirata," I replied in a relaxed tone, still shaking off the sleep.

"It seems like our first day has begun. Let's do our best!" he added, with that contagious enthusiasm that always characterized him.

"Yeah, sure, but first... could you help me wake the others?" I said, pointing to some of the guys who were still fast asleep, as if the alarm hadn't even gone off. "Seems like some have a pretty deep sleep."

"Haha, sure," he responded with a light laugh.

We set to work waking everyone up. As I walked between the bunks, I noticed how the first light of the sun was starting to filter through the windows, filling the room with a warm and soft glow. Some guys resisted getting up, but we didn't give them much of a choice. After all, we had to clean our assigned area before starting the day's activities, and it was better to get it done quickly with everyone awake.

"Come on, guys, time to get up," I said without hurry, giving a few pats to one of the guys still clutching his pillow.

"Let's not fall behind on the first day," Hirata added with a smile, always encouraging the group.

Finally, after a few minutes of insistence, we managed to get everyone up. After everyone finished their hygiene routine, we gathered in the common area to start cleaning. It wasn't a complicated task, but it was clearly part of the cooperation evaluation in this exam. It was designed to make us work together, something different from what we had experienced in previous exams.

With a broom in hand, I began sweeping the assigned areas, not giving it much importance. It wasn't anything we couldn't handle easily. Hirata continued leading with his typical enthusiasm, motivating everyone to cooperate, though to me it was just another task to complete.

As the sun slowly rose on the horizon, the first day of this exam progressed without too much trouble. However, it was just beginning. There were still many activities ahead, and although everything seemed quite simple so far, I knew we couldn't relax too much.

The day was young, and there was still much to be done.

...

As the clock neared seven a.m., the cleaning was finally done. It was the first day of the special exam, and although the initial tasks had been easy, I knew the activities would only get more intense. Next on the list was a zazen practice, an uncommon tradition in our usual training but now a crucial part of the daily routine.

Zazen is the seated meditation practice of Zen Buddhism, a discipline that requires maintaining a stable posture while observing one's mind without clinging to thoughts or distractions. Its goal is to reach a state of mental clarity and mindfulness, allowing the practitioner to understand the true nature of being. It wasn't new to me. I had practiced zazen before, so I knew exactly what it involved. However, looking at the faces of the others in my group, I suspected it would be a completely different experience for them.

We took some time to change clothes. For this activity, a specific outfit was required, looser, which facilitated movement and meditation. The soft rustling of fabric as we changed filled the room. The air was still cold at that hour, and I felt the morning breeze filtering through the windows, brushing against my skin as I adjusted my clothes for the practice.

Once we were all ready, we sat in dogeza—a posture of reverence—in a circle, while the person in charge of zazen began to speak. His voice was soft but monotonous, and though his words flowed calmly, the explanation about the history of zazen felt unnecessary to me. I already knew everything he was saying, so I disconnected my attention from his speech. I glanced at the others out of the corner of my eye. Some seemed interested, others confused, but most showed signs of discomfort.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the instructor paused and smiled slightly before giving the instruction I had been waiting for: "Alright, now try to copy what I'm doing."

I watched as he positioned himself in the basic zazen posture, a position that, at least for me, was quite simple. Sit with your back straight, without tension, and place your hands in your lap, left hand over the right, with the thumbs touching lightly, forming a circle. The spine should be well aligned with the head, while the chin tilts slightly downward in a gesture of humility. I did it effortlessly, feeling my body automatically adjust to the posture, as if every muscle and joint remembered the movement naturally.

Looking around, I noticed that some of the guys in the group managed to do it without problems, but others struggled to adjust their positions. Not everyone was particularly flexible. Their faces of discomfort were evident, and as they tried to find stability, they let out small sighs of frustration.

"Well done, now let's switch," the instructor announced with a reassuring smile, starting to demonstrate a more advanced posture.

The tension in the room rose slightly. I knew this new posture would be more challenging, but I wasn't worried. My body, accustomed to exercise and physical training, adapted easily. My muscles stretched, and with a deep breath, I settled in without any major issues. However, the rest of my group started showing clear signs of difficulty. The sound of muscles straining and light complaints broke the silence of the room.

"Man, this is so hard!" Shibata complained, trying to adjust but unable to achieve the necessary flexibility.

"I feel like my tendon is going to snap," murmured Hamaguchi, who, despite his athletic ability, seemed to be struggling more than expected. It wasn't surprising. Many people neglect flexibility in their exercise routines, focusing only on strength or endurance. But here, the body required a different harmony, a calmness combined with physical control that clearly wasn't easy to achieve.

The instructor walked slowly among us, observing our postures with attentive eyes. When he stopped in front of me, he looked at me with a slight smile.

"Great job, Osawa. You have perfect posture," he calmly praised.

I nodded slightly in thanks. Not that empty compliments motivated me, but every now and then, a word of acknowledgment didn't hurt. As the morning progressed, we continued with the zazen practice. Little by little, the guys in my group adapted, though not without a few complaints here and there. The soft sunlight filtered through the windows, bathing the room with a warm glow that contrasted with the seriousness of the meditation. I knew this was just the beginning of a long day full of tests, but for now, zazen was mentally preparing us for what was to come.

...

It was eight in the morning, and that meant it was time for breakfast in the cafeteria. Throughout the special exam, most of the time we couldn't run into other groups or the girls, as there was a strict division between the boys' and girls' buildings. However, the cafeteria was one of the few places where we could interact with them, making this moment a bit more interesting.

My group and I headed to the food line, selecting what we liked most from the menu. As usual, most of us stayed together, not because it was mandatory, but because it had naturally become a habit for those from the same class. It was like in school, where sharing meals with classmates was part of the daily routine. Hirata, always the sociable soul, also joined us. Everyone got along with him; it wasn't surprising, considering Hirata was like a social butterfly: it was easy to like him, and even easier to want to be around him.

As we started eating, I noticed the girls walking by with their trays, looking for a place to sit. For a moment, I considered joining them, but seeing that they were heading to their own group, I decided not to. Why? Well, I think it was better to give them space to deepen their own dynamics. Their cohesion was also important, and I didn't want to interrupt that process.

At that moment, I locked eyes with Honami, who seemed to be looking for someone. When her eyes met mine, she gave me one of her radiant smiles, that warm and serene smile that characterized her. I returned the gesture, feeling the familiar tingle of her kindness. Still, she continued on her way, joining the girls.

For a second, I considered approaching and chatting a bit more with Honami and the others, but I decided that could wait. I had a feeling there would be more opportunities to talk later. Besides, I couldn't shake the thought that it was best to let their group strengthen their bonds without my immediate presence.

...

The day progressed without many complications. At nine in the morning, as scheduled, it was time to study the main topics of this special exam: Morality, Discipline, Order, and Individuality. Although they sounded important, the reality was that the sessions consisted mostly of tedious talks and simple questionnaires. Nothing that required much effort or concentration. It was all pretty easy, almost routine.

When the clock struck noon, the cafeteria filled up again with the various groups of students. It was lunchtime and, in passing, an opportunity to socialize a bit more. Although interaction between groups wasn't mandatory, many took advantage of it to observe others or make new connections. As for me, I preferred to stick with the usual crowd. The food was simple, but in the company of Hirata and the others, the atmosphere became more relaxed.

At one in the afternoon, group tasks began. We were assigned some physical activities and others that were more intellectual. Clearly, they did this to measure our cohesion as a group. In that aspect, I think we were doing quite well. Kitou, though serious and a man of few words, always completed tasks without complaint. Tokitou was a bit more communicative, though still reserved, and of course, Hirata always led with his usual ability to connect with others. I didn't have to say much, but the way our group functioned was impeccable.

By four in the afternoon, it was time to repeat the Zazen activity. This time, although it was still a challenge for some, they were starting to adapt. Seeing how little by little everyone was managing the postures, even though it was tough, was a good indication that we were on the right track. Looking at the day's performance, I could confidently say that my group had a real chance of winning this exam. The cohesion was good, and although we could still improve in some areas, like Zazen and studying, our foundation was solid.

After dinner at five and an hour of free time at six, we decided to play cards. Shibata had brought a deck, and we started playing. Surprisingly, I won every round. Or at least it was surprising to the others, because they immediately accused me of cheating amidst laughter and mock complaints. Of course, I let them enjoy their suspicions.

At seven-thirty, it was time for the group bath. The bath was enormous, big enough to accommodate other groups as well. However, I didn't pay much attention to who else was there. I always relaxed so much in the hot water that everything else faded into the background. The baths were one of the few moments of the day where I could truly disconnect from everything.

Finally, it was time to sleep. At nine sharp, the lights went out, and the dorm was plunged into darkness. You could already hear the soft breathing of others, a sign that many were already fast asleep. I, however, remained awake, staring at the ceiling of the top bunk.

In my right hand, I held something: one of the recording pens I always carried with me. The school had confiscated our phones when we arrived, but no one said anything about bringing a simple pen, right?

As I looked at it under the dim light filtering in from the hallway, a sense of anticipation grew in my chest. I knew these small devices would be key to what was coming. They weren't just pens, but tools that could change the course of this exam if I played my cards right. I just had to wait for the perfect moment to set in motion the plan I had been scheming from the start.

The silence of the night hung heavy over the dormitory, and while my classmates slept peacefully, I was lost in deeper thoughts, sharpening every detail of what would come next.

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This chapter provides a description of the activities that the groups will carry out throughout the week. You may find some moments monotonous, as the focus is more informative than narrative.