Was this the sharp edge of a Class A high achiever, or the wariness of a "problem" high achiever in Class B?
In another corner, a somewhat frail-looking boy wearing a hat pulled low over his eyes leaned quietly against the seatback, his gaze lowered.
He seemed indifferent to all the surrounding noise, like a deep, still pool of water.
Further back in the carriage, several boys with flashy hairstyles and casual postures were laughing loudly, oblivious to others.
Their conversation occasionally touched upon teasing challenges to school rules, drawing sidelong glances from those nearby.
The voice of one of them, a robust boy with a defiant expression and challenging eyes, was particularly loud, carrying an air of fearlessness.
Jin sat by the window, his head slightly tilted and resting against the cool glass, his eyes closed.
In order to adapt to his new identity as a regular high school student, he had consciously curbed many of his past habits before enrolling, striving to adjust his demeanour.
The nonstop battles during missions, the killing spree, the life and death struggles, it's all in the past now.
Now that the rush of enrollment procedures was over, weariness quietly crept in during this smooth journey toward the unknown campus.
He relaxed his body, his breathing gradually becoming steady and deep, and he fell asleep.
The morning light shone softly through the window onto his calm, unperturbed sleeping face, outlining the boy's slightly slender profile.
The surrounding noise and anticipation seemed to be separated by an invisible barrier.
The sounds inside the bus rose and fell like a miniature social symphony—the rustling of pages, whispers, laughter, the faint beat escaping headphones...
However, this "movement," mixed with various emotions, was abruptly interrupted by one voice.
It was a clear, pleasant female voice, possessing natural charisma and an undeniable sense of firmness.
Since she needed the sound to carry further, the volume was slightly higher than normal conversation, ringing clearly from the front of the bus:
"Excuse me, everyone! Could I ask—is there anyone who could conveniently offer their seat to this elderly lady? It's difficult for her to stand. Please!"
The voice contained a sincere request, piercing through the background noise, and acted like a key, instantly unlocking a brief silence within the carriage.
Jin was awakened from his sleep by this voice. He slowly opened his eyes. Beneath his thick eyelashes, a trace of lingering drowsiness remained in his dark red pupils, like a deep, mist-covered pool.
There was no sign of displeasure or emotional fluctuation on his face after being disturbed, only a deep, ocean-like calmness.
He quietly allowed his vision to adjust to the slightly dim light inside the carriage (due to the deep blue seawater outside the window), and then his gaze calmly turned toward the source of the voice—the area near the front door of the bus.
There, he saw the girl who had made the request, with coffee-colored, shoulder-length hair, and beside her, an elderly woman leaning on the back of a seat, looking slightly fatigued.
...
Let's rewind time for a moment.
Inside the bus, a mix of hushed whispers and the hum of the engine continued. Jin leaned against the cool window, his breathing even and deep, profound sleep isolating him from the surrounding noise. He was completely unaware of the small conflict unfolding at the front of the car.
Near the bus door, an elderly woman with white hair and a cane, her figure stooped, clearly found standing a struggle. She was standing right beside an aisle seat—a seat prominently marked as a "priority seat."
Sitting in this seat, which should have been offered to her, was a strikingly handsome young man.
He had a robust physique but a dazzling, shoulder-length cascade of golden hair. His face was beautiful, almost otherworldly, and he leaned back lazily, as if everything around him was irrelevant. Between the burly young man and the elderly woman stood a girl.
She had soft, neatly styled brown bob hair and was wearing the uniform of Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School.
Given the specific introduction of the school, she must be a new student. The fact that she was already wearing her uniform before even entering the school grounds likely meant she was the type of good student well-liked by teachers.
The brown-haired girl's delicate eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and her fair face held an undeniable seriousness and resolve. Her sharp gaze was fixed on Kogenji, who was sitting in the priority seat, and her voice clearly cut through the surrounding murmurs:
"Don't you think you should give up your seat?"
Her voice clearly carried through the now-quiet front half of the train car, naturally drawing the attention of those around. Immediately, many eyes focused on the burly young man, filled with curiosity, scrutiny, or a subtle agreement.
"You, sitting over there, didn't you see that the elderly lady is having trouble?" the brown-haired girl spoke again, her tone heavier, carrying undisguised questioning.
This time, her voice echoed even more clearly through the car, explicitly directed at the burly young man, and once again emphasising the elderly woman's current difficult situation.
However, the burly young man's reaction surprised many. He didn't get angry immediately, nor did he ignore her, nor did he meekly comply.
Instead, a smile spread across his handsome face, carrying a hint of cynicism and condescension. He slowly said, while gracefully re-crossing his legs, his posture becoming even more lazy and disdainful.
"That's a crazy question, Pretty girl."
He slightly raised his chin, adding with an inherent sense of superiority, "However, girl, it's true that I'm a healthy young man, and standing doesn't really inconvenience me, but it clearly consumes more energy than sitting. I don't intend to do such a meaningless, unprofitable thing. I, Kogenji Rokusuke, am destined to support the future of this country. Compared to this elderly lady who can no longer contribute much to society, it's clearly I, the young man, who is more important, so isn't the answer obvious?"
This mocking response, flippant attitude, and utterly arrogant declaration instantly made the atmosphere extremely tense and awkward.
The elderly woman became even more flustered, seeming to want to say something but not daring to.
The surrounding students' faces showed expressions of astonishment, disbelief, dissatisfaction, or pure amusement, and whispers started up again.
The brown-haired girl, later known as Kushida Kikyo, stood frozen, her face flushed with a mixture of disbelief and indignation.
The "logic" Kouenji presented was so devoid of basic human decency that it created a vacuum in the conversation.
Even the delinquents in the back had gone silent, their brand of "rebellion" looking amateurish compared to Kouenji's absolute, polished egoism.
From his seat by the window, Jin watched the scene through half-lidded eyes. The "ocean-like calmness" he maintained was a hard-won mask.
To any other student, Kouenji was just a jerk; to Jin, whose senses were honed in life-and-death struggles, Kouenji represented a specific kind of threat—the unpredictable variable.
Jin noted the tension in the golden-haired boy's frame; despite his lazy posture, there wasn't a single opening in his guard. "Is value truly measured only by future contribution?"
A new voice, cold and clinical, drifted from the seat behind Kouenji. A girl with long, raven-black hair—Horikita Suzune—didn't look up from her book, yet her words acted as a secondary blade in the air.
"By your own logic, if you fail to meet those 'destined' expectations, your value would drop below even that of the woman standing before you."
Kouenji let out a boisterous, melodic laugh that echoed against the bus windows. "A charming thought, but failure is a concept that doesn't apply to me."
The standoff intensified, the air thick with the friction of clashing ideologies. Jin looked back toward the blue seawater outside, his dark red pupils reflecting the light.
Jin could feel the peaceful high school life already slipping through his fingers. And a reminder that what kind of place he has entered.
This bus wasn't just transport; it was a pressure cooker of "high achievers" and "problems," and the school they were heading toward, Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School, was clearly not the sanctuary of "regular" life he had hoped for.