The calm before the storm was always deceptive.
A full week passed since the Peer Evaluation rankings shook Delta. Reina's name had climbed steadily in popularity across student networks. But a rumor now circled quietly: that Reina was not moving alone. That a ghost walked beside her. That someone else was directing the Delta rise—someone no one could see.
Renji.
The headmaster's office was built like a fortress—white marble, towering windows, and silence as sharp as broken glass. Kanzaki Erina stood in front of her father, arms crossed. The headmaster tapped his pen slowly, reading through the recent ranking shifts.
"You let your cousin surpass Beta," he said without looking up. "Unacceptable."
"She didn't do it alone," Erina replied. "Someone else is involved."
"Who?"
Erina pulled out a single file: Tachibana Renji.
"His movements are calculated. He doesn't chase credit. He positions Reina as a queen—but he's the one placing the pieces."
The headmaster finally looked up.
"Why would a boy from that family lower himself to Delta?"
"Because he wants to change the game."
A long silence.
"Observe him," the headmaster said. "If he overreaches... cut him down."
Erina's expression didn't change.
"I already plan to."
Back in the Delta classroom, Reina was reviewing proposals. The next exam had been announced: A social simulation. Each class would be locked into a digital environment—a simulated campus, monitored via AR. Roles would be assigned. Resources would be limited. Leadership, communication, and trust would be tested. Reina was chosen as Delta's representative. She was already making plans.
"I want food distribution handled by Ayaka. She's a perfectionist. Kurama, monitor communications. I'll lead the resource council."
She glanced at Renji.
"And you?"
"I'll do nothing," he said.
Some students scoffed. Reina frowned. But Renji didn't move.
"I don't need a role," he added. "I'll just exist."
Later, Reina asked him privately, "Why are you avoiding responsibility?"
"I'm not. I'm hiding intent."
"You think someone's watching."
He gave a slight nod.
"They always are."
The simulation began on a Friday evening. Each class entered its own room, sat in pods, and the AR began.
Renji opened his eyes to find himself in a virtual dorm. Plain white walls. A bed. A notebook on the desk. Digital overlays showed his vitals, inventory, and location. He tapped the interface—Delta territory was limited. Their food was scarce. They had fewer resources than Alpha or Beta.
A designed handicap. Good.
The rules of the game were simple: survive for three days. Each class could trade, negotiate, or raid others. Points would be earned by stability, creativity, and efficiency. But hidden events would change everything. At 9 p.m., a system message flashed:
"ALERT: Unknown disease spreading. Symptoms affect decision-making. Find the source. Hide the truth, or reveal it. Choice has consequences."
"Psychological warfare," Renji murmured.
By morning, three students in Delta had fevers. One accused another of poisoning their water. Tensions rose. Reina tried to maintain control.
"No one makes a move without proof."
Kurama grinned, holding a fake test strip.
"What if I say it's her?"
"Then you'll start a riot," Reina snapped.
She turned to Renji.
"Say something. They'll listen."
But Renji shook his head.
"Let them unravel."
"What?"
He walked toward the window of the simulation room, gazing out at the digital skyline.
"If you want real leadership," he said, "then lose control."
Reina stared at him, baffled.
Then she did something unexpected. She left the room.
Without leadership, Delta split. Small groups formed. Accusations flew. Trust vanished. It was exactly what the system wanted: a collapse of order. But then something strange happened. Renji walked into the main hall and started writing names on the wall. Sick students. Healthy ones. Who had shared water. Who hadn't. Who had lied. He said nothing. But students watched. They started adding to it. One by one.
Patterns emerged. The source wasn't a person—it was a corrupted batch of rations distributed early by the system itself.
Delta had been sabotaged.
When Reina returned, she saw the wall. She stared at Renji.
"You didn't fix it."
"No," he said. "They did."
Day two. Beta tried to trade antibiotics with Delta—for points and water. Kurama wanted to accept.
"We need it."
Reina hesitated. Then he stepped in.
"Decline."
"Why?"
"Because Beta isn't offering help. They're creating debt. They want to own us when this is over."
Reina clenched her fists.
"But people are sick—"
"They're recovering. Let it ride out."
She stared at him.
"You're too cold."
"I'm just playing their game," he said. "So we can end it."
She turned away. But later, she followed his advice.
Delta declined the offer.
The next morning, Beta's food supply was exposed as contaminated too. They fell into chaos.
Delta stabilized.
Final day. The simulation threw a last twist.
"All classes may vote to exile one class permanently from simulation. Majority rules. The class exiled will lose all points."
Alpha immediately rallied votes. Beta, weakened, voted for Gamma. Gamma retaliated.
Reina called an emergency council.
Kurama, flushed with excitement, said, "Let's vote for Alpha. Screw them."
Others hesitated.
"We'll be targeted next," someone said.
Reina paced. She turned to Renji.
"What do we do?"
He didn't respond. He simply walked to the screen and typed a single message:
"Delta abstains."
Gasps echoed. Reina froze.
"What—?!"
But it was too late. Votes tallied.
Gamma exiled. Beta dropped to near zero. Delta, with neutral position, rose to second. And Reina… stared at Renji.
"You predicted this."
He shrugged.
"You made the call."
She didn't know whether to hit him or thank him.
After the simulation ended, the top 10 students were summoned individually for a debriefing. Reina went. Kurama too. And Renji… received a letter instead.
A white envelope. Handwritten.
"Come to the observatory at midnight."
Renji burned the note after reading. He already knew who sent it.
The observatory sat above the Alpha wing. A place for top-ranked students only. Silent. Cold. Lit by starlight. Erina was waiting. She stood at the railing, eyes on the stars.
"Congratulations," she said. "Delta is rising."
Renji said nothing. She turned.
"You played beautifully. Letting Reina fall, then rise. Letting the class break, then rebuild itself. Letting others fight while you stood silent."
She stepped closer.
"But I see you."
Still, he said nothing.
"Why are you doing this, Renji?"
"To test something."
"What?"
"If power can exist without domination."
She blinked.
"That's a contradiction."
"I know."
Erina stared at him. Then she whispered,
"Join me."
A pause.
"I'm not your enemy," she added. "I don't want the throne. I want to rebuild the game."
He looked at her.
"You'll destroy people."
She nodded.
"I'll save more than I hurt."
He stepped back.
"We're not the same."
"No," she said. "But we understand each other."
She held out her hand. Renji looked at it. Then walked past her.
"Not yet."
Her hand dropped. But a small smile touched her lips.
Checkmate takes time.
The simulation results were released:
1st – Alpha Class2nd – Delta Class3rd – Beta4th – Gamma (Exiled)
Kanzaki Reina was awarded MVP. Kurama got the creativity award. Renji's name didn't appear. But Reina stood at the front of class the next day and said,
"He should've."
She looked directly at him.
"Thank you."
He didn't respond. But in that silence… A new hierarchy was forming. And in the shadows—Renji moved again.