Behind the Curtain

As the chatter in the classroom began to subside and students grabbed their belongings to head to the assembly hall, I glanced at my watch. 9:20 AM. Ten minutes until the assembly started.

That's plenty of time. Enough to sneak a quick detour.

The assembly hall wasn't my immediate concern. The real opportunity lay elsewhere—the teacher's lounge. With the teachers likely preoccupied with last-minute preparations for the assembly, the place should be empty. And if it's empty, that means access. Access to potential information. Records, schedules, files—anything that could give me an edge in figuring out the inner workings of this bizarre school.

His electric-blue eyes scanned the room briefly. Everyone else was too caught up in their excitement to notice his scheming. But there was one obstacle in his way—Hirata Yousuke.

There he was, a perfect poster child for "good vibes and unity," flitting from group to group like a busy bee. His smile was as radiant as ever, his voice calm and persuasive as he herded students together. He was already forming small groups, ensuring no one got left behind on the way to the assembly hall. His charisma was undeniable—most of the girls in the room were either giggling around him or blushing furiously. Even a few of the guys seemed captivated by his energy.

I had to admit, he was good at this. A natural-born leader. The kind of guy you'd trust to guide you through a burning building. But right now, he was my biggest problem.

I watched as Hirata's group steadily grew, his words of encouragement wrapping around my classmates like a warm blanket. My instincts kicked in—I needed to avoid his clutches, and fast.

I couldn't risk him dragging me to the assembly hall with his little entourage. Not when I had plans to take a detour. But I couldn't afford to be obvious about it either. If I just refused outright, someone might get suspicious. No, I'd have to handle this delicately. Play it smooth.

"Hey, Takahashi-kun!" Hirata's voice cut through my thoughts like a bell. Damn it. He was already making his way toward me, his ever-present smile lighting up his face. "We're heading to the assembly hall as a group. Want to join us?"

Damn. He was already in Hirata's sights.

Aiden casually leaned against his desk, keeping his grin intact. "Ah, thanks, Hirata-kun, but I just remembered I need to, uh, check something real quick. Won't take long."

Hirata tilted his head slightly, his friendly demeanor never faltering. "Check something? What do you mean? Maybe I can help?"

Aiden resisted the urge to groan. Of course Hirata wouldn't let him off that easily. His instincts were screaming for him to get out of this conversation before it spiraled further.

Time for Plan B.

I straightened up, flashing Hirata my trademark carefree smile. "Oh, don't worry about it. I wouldn't want to trouble the future star of our class. Besides," I added, turning my gaze to the girls surrounding him, "you've got such wonderful company. I wouldn't dream of stealing you away from them."

The blushes were instantaneous. One girl quickly ducked her head, pretending to adjust her hair, while another stammered something incoherent. Perfect. Exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

"Wha—no, no, it's not like that!" Hirata said hastily, his calm composure cracking just slightly as he raised his hands defensively.

"Oh, come on, Hirata-kun," I teased, leaning in slightly and lowering my voice as if sharing a secret. "Look at them. They adore you. Don't break their hearts by running off with me."

The girls' blushes deepened, and a wave of embarrassed giggles spread through the group. One of them lightly swatted Hirata's arm. "He's just teasing, Hirata-kun! Ignore him!"

"No, no!" another girl chimed in, her face as red as a tomato. "But maybe we should just let Takahashi-kun go if he's busy. Right, Hirata-kun?"

Hirata looked genuinely flustered now, his usual calm diplomacy faltering under the combined assault of my teasing and the girls' reactions. "I mean… well, I suppose if you're really busy, Takahashi-kun—"

"Thanks, Hirata-kun. You're the best," I said smoothly, cutting him off before he could regain control of the situation. "I'll catch up with you guys at the assembly. Promise."

Before he could respond, I turned on my heel, slipping toward the door with an easy wave. The girls were still giggling, their attention now fully focused on Hirata, who was undoubtedly scrambling to reassure them.

Mission accomplished.

As I stepped out into the hallway, my grin faded, replaced by a look of quiet determination. The teacher's lounge was just a few corridors away. If I moved quickly, I could get there, scope it out, and be back before anyone noticed I was missing.

The hallway leading to the teacher's lounge was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that amplified the faintest of sounds. Aiden Takahashi glanced at his watch—9:20 AM. Ten minutes until the assembly began. If his assumption was correct, the teachers would be busy preparing, leaving their sanctuary temporarily unguarded.

Perfect opportunity.

Aiden adjusted his red cap and moved swiftly yet soundlessly down the corridor. The air smelled faintly of polish and cleaning chemicals, a sterile scent that seemed to suit the polished environment. His electric-blue eyes darted around for any signs of movement, his steps deliberate and calculated.

Upon reaching the door, he paused. His hand hovered over the handle for a moment as he tilted his head slightly, straining to hear any noises from within. Nothing.

With a light push, the door creaked open.

The teacher's lounge was a stark contrast to the rest of the school. While the hallways boasted an aura of prestige and control, the lounge was practical, functional. Wooden desks, a cluster of chairs, and a large coffee machine in the corner filled the space. Papers were strewn about on some desks, while others were neatly organized, reflecting the personalities of their occupants.

What caught Aiden's attention, however, wasn't the mundane office furniture. It was the large corkboard on the far wall.

He moved closer, his sharp eyes locking onto the two large sheets pinned to the board. Each was marked clearly: 2nd Year and 3rd Year. In front of each class—labeled A, B, C, and D—was a number written in bold, precise font.

The numbers were vastly different for each class. Class 2-A had a significantly higher figure compared to Class 2-B, and so on. The same pattern was evident in the 3rd-year sheet.

"What the hell…?" Aiden muttered under his breath, his curiosity flaring.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his school-issued phone. Snapping a quick picture of the board, he stepped back and leaned against the wall, his mind already churning.

These numbers weren't arbitrary; they had meaning. The lexicographical order of the classes and the uneven distribution of points couldn't be a coincidence.

They had meaning—possibly tied to rankings, privileges, or resources. Combined with Chabashira-sensei's comments about being stuck in the same class for three years, the implications were unsettling.

A competitive hierarchy? A resource-based system? Privileges earned through performance?

Aiden's fingers tapped rhythmically against the phone as he analyzed the data. His smirk returned, though it was tinged with unease. If Class D was at the bottom, what did that mean for his time here?

The implications sent a surge of excitement through him, mingled with a faint sense of unease. Aiden wasn't a stranger to systems that pit people against one another. But this? This was… different.

He was lost in thought, his brain analyzing potential scenarios and connections, when—

"Care to explain why you're here, student?"

The voice behind him was deep, strict, and carried an air of authority that sent a jolt through Aiden. His instincts kicked in before he could think. Spinning around, he dropped into a low, defensive stance, his fists clenched and poised like a marine soldier ready for combat.

It was only after a split second that he processed what stood before him—a tall man in his late thirties with a commanding presence. His sharp jawline and short, neatly trimmed hair gave him the look of someone who valued precision and discipline above all else. His eyes, a piercing steel gray, carried the weight of years spent in authority. His broad shoulders strained slightly against the fabric of his perfectly tailored black suit, and the faint glint of a watch peeking out from beneath his sleeve added to his polished appearance. He stood with the rigidity of a soldier, his arms crossed, exuding the kind of energy that made people straighten their backs instinctively.

Aiden straightened slightly, his hands lowering but still tense, ready to react if necessary. His smirk returned, though this time it carried an edge—a silent acknowledgment of the tension in the air.

The teacher's eyes widened ever so slightly at Aiden's initial defensive posture, a momentary flicker of surprise breaking through his stoic demeanor before vanishing like a ripple in still water.

"Hahaha…" Aiden scratched the back of his head, his smirk widening into a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Ah, sorry about that, sensei. I was looking for Chabashira-sensei, but, well, the smell of coffee dragged me here." He took a deliberate sniff, tilting his head slightly as if savoring the aroma. "Did you make it? Because, man, that smells incredible."

The teacher raised a brow, his stern expression unchanging, though there was a faint trace of disbelief. Before he could reply, Aiden stepped forward slightly, his electric-blue eyes scanning the coffee cup on the desk with exaggerated curiosity.

"Arabica beans, I'm guessing? And not just any—medium roast, right? Judging by the way the aroma carries, it's got that balanced, nutty sweetness, maybe a hint of caramel. But there's also this subtle brightness to it, like a whisper of citrus." He pointed at the cup with a knowing grin. "Ethiopian beans, maybe? A classic choice. You've got a good palate, sensei."

Aiden then shifted his gaze to the donut sitting neatly on a napkin beside the cup. "And the donut? Glazed, obviously. Reminds me of those cop shows where it's basically their staple diet. Let me guess—you've been bingeing detective dramas in your free time? Hahaha!" His laugh was casual, easygoing, and disarming, as if he hadn't just been caught red-handed where he absolutely wasn't supposed to be.

The teacher's mouth opened, clearly about to issue a sharp reprimand. His voice, when it came, was icy with skepticism. "You're supposed to be in the assembly hall, not loitering around here, student." His tone made it clear he wasn't buying Aiden's coffee-and-donut distraction act. "Care to explain why you're really here?"

Before Aiden could conjure another excuse, a melodic, playful voice cut through the tension.

"Oh, come now, Mashima-kun, don't be so harsh!"