A few weeks before…
Inside the quiet office, a lone figure sat slouched at her desk, her cheek pressed against her palm.
"…Ugh…"
She tapped her pen lazily against the table.
It was Urara's homeroom teacher.
The rest of the staff had already gone home.
And the staff room was now empty.
It was silent and perfect.
"…At least no one's around to see this…" she muttered.
Meanwhile, in front of her, a blank document glowed on the screen.
The recommendation letter.
Or rather...
What was supposed to be one.
She then stared at it.
Nothing came.
No achievements.
No records.
No outstanding results.
Nothing that could justify sending Urara to a place like Tracen.
Nothing that would convince anyone.
"…What am I even supposed to write…?" she groaned.
Still—
A promise was a promise.
There, she sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair, her head drifted upward.
Muttering,
"What am I even supposed to write…?"
"Should I just… do it normally…?"
"…With Urara's current performance, it's getting rejected anyway…"
Then came a long, frustrated groan.
"Why did I even promise her…"
"It's not like she's going to survive in that shark tank anyway…"
Her eyes then slowly closed.
With that, she started thinking.
Pushing.
Groaning.
Trying to force something—anything—to come out.
After a few more strained grunts slipped through.
Then—
*THUD*
Her hands hit the desk.
"DAMN IT! I'VE GOT NOTHING!"
She sat there, breathing out sharply.
"…You know what? Why waste my time over it! Screw it…"
"I'll just write it normally!"
She then pulled up a template from the internet.
And without thinking twice, her fingers moved.
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
Words slowly filled the document.
One sentence after another.
It was neat, formal, and structured.
A perfect recommendation letter...
...for someone with achievements, that was.
Then—
She sharply stopped.
Midway through.
Her eyes then gently lingered on what she had written.
Everything looked right.
Sounded right.
But—
It felt…
...empty?
It felt soulless, as if it were a robot-generated. Or perhaps, something as normal as it can be.
She sighed.
"…What am I even doing…?" she muttered.
There, she reached for the keyboard—
With a few taps, she erased everything.
Back to nothing.
Back to square one.
Immediately, she slumped again, letting out a long, frustrated groan.
Until—
"What are you doing here this late, Kobashigawa?"
A familiar voice suddenly chimed in.
Startled, Urara's homeroom teacher immediately slammed her laptop shut.
She turned, fidgeting.
And finally realized...
...it was her co-worker.
"H—Hey!" she added.
"Go— Good Evening!"
"What are you really doing, Kobashi? You looked... suspicious?" the co-worker added.
"I— I— I'm just—!" she stammered, her face flushing red.
"…I'm just marking homework!" she blurted out.
"Yeah! That's it! Just marking homework!"
The co-worker raised a brow.
"…That's odd."
"I thought you were handling the senior class," she said. "They shouldn't even have homework anymore."
"Considering they're about to graduate."
"Well!" her teacher quickly retorted, "I— I was just thinking of giving them some extra material! You know—something to help with their future studies!"
"Hmm…"
The co-worker paused, narrowing her eyes slightly.
"…That doesn't sound like you at all, Kobashi."
"Wh—what…?" she faltered. "I—It's just—"
"It's okay, Kobashi," the co-worker instantly interrupted, a sly smirk forming.
"I get it. You've got… urges."
She leaned slightly closer.
"But in the office?"
"…That's a whole different level."
"W—What… do you mean?" Urara's teacher asked, her eye twitching.
"You know what I mean," the co-worker replied with a wink, already turning away.
"Anyway… It's getting late, Kobashi. You'd better clean it up afterward, alright?"
"And... See you tomorrow."
She waved casually as she left.
Meanwhile, Urara's teacher, still breathing raggedly, muttering in disbelief, "Wh— What? S— See… you…?"
And just like that—
The co-worker was gone.
Leaving the office silent once more.
Leaving her still bewildered...
...
...
A moment of calming down later...
"…What is she even talking about…" she muttered under her breath.
A sigh followed.
"Whatever…"
She then turned back to her computer.
Stared at it for a moment.
With a brief thought of continuing it.
Then—
She closed it.
No more.
Not here.
She then grabbed her things and began packing up.
"Maybe I should've just done this at home…" she grumbled.
And with that—
She, too, left the office behind.
...
...
A moment later…
Instead of the office—
She was now at home.
Slumped over her desk.
"God damn it, Urara!"
*THUD*
Her hand slammed onto the table again, rattling the laptop.
"Why are you torturing me with those horrendous grades of yours!" she whined, collapsing forward.
"I can't do this anymore..." she groaned as her face melted against the table top.
"I can't..."
With that, her eyes slowly closed, trying to calm herself down once more...
...
...
After a brief moment of collecting, she finally lifted her head again, dragging herself back upright.
"…Tch."
She then opened a browser.
Searched.
Tracen Academy.
Articles flooded the screen.
One headline after another:
"Another G1 winner from Tracen…"
"Triple Crown on the loose…"
"Is this the rise of a new monster…"
She scrolled.
Reading.
Skimming.
Muttering under her breath.
Until—
Her eyes stopped.
Locked onto one headline.
"…Is Tracen Academy truly a prestigious school…?" she read aloud.
Then—
She froze.
Her mouth agape.
And her eyes slowly narrowed.
"…Is Tracen Academy… truly an elite school…?" she repeated.
With that, she quickly scrolled back up.
Re-reading.
Rechecking.
One article after another.
Every winner.
Every headline that was tied to Tracen Academy.
Then—
She stopped.
At the same headline again.
"…Is Tracen Academy… truly an elite school…?" she murmured again.
She paused.
Then—
Her eyes widened.
"…That's it."
"That's it!"
She pointed at the screen, realization hitting all at once.
"Is Tracen Academy really an elite school?"
"That's all I needed to know!"
Without another second wasted, she snapped back to her document.
Fingers flying across the keyboard.
*Click*
*Click*
*Click*
This time—
No more hesitation. No more template. No more formality.
Just one tilted angle. One imperceptible loophole.
A question wrapped as a letter.
One bold enough to force their hand.
One reckless enough to make them look.
All she had to do—
Was present Urara as a...
...FLAW...
...in their so-called "perfect" system.
A challenge that made them second-guess themselves.
And now—
That very letter rested in the hands of one individual.
A figure walking toward the director's room.
Clutched firmly by the one and only.
The Emperor,
Symboli Rudolf.
And after a short walk, she finally arrived.
Standing before the door.
The one that separated her from the very top.
The director.
Then—
*Flap*
A paper fan snapped open.
A short, ginger-haired woman stood there, fanning herself before pointing it toward Rudolf.
"What brings you here, Symboli Rudolf?" she asked, her voice was sharp yet playful.
And beside her stood a tall woman dressed in green, composed as ever, a gentle smile resting on her face.
Rudolf then bowed slightly.
"My apologies for the intrusion, Director."
"I've come regarding a letter," she continued, placing it carefully onto the table.
"One from an applicant."
"A rather… peculiar one."
The director raised a brow.
"Oh?"
"It challenges the very system Tracen Academy stands upon," Rudolf added calmly.
A grin slowly spread across the director's face.
"A challenge, you say?"
"Yes," Rudolf replied. "It questions our standards… and why we deserve to call ourselves elites."
"…Interesting."
She turned slightly.
"Tazuna!" she pointed.
The woman in green stepped forward.
"Please, read it for me."
"Yes," Tazuna replied softly, picking up the letter with care.
Tazuna then unfolded the letter carefully.
Her eyes scanned the page—
Then, she began to read.
"To the Esteemed Faculty and Selection Committee of Tracen Academy,
I write this letter not merely as a recommendation, but as a proposition—perhaps even a challenge.
The applicant before you, Haru Urara, is, by every conventional metric, unqualified.
Her academic performance is inconsistent. Her race records are unimpressive. Her measurable potential, when compared to your usual standards, is—at best—unremarkable.
If your institution seeks only those who already embody excellence, then I advise you to discard this application immediately.
However—
If Tracen Academy is truly what it claims to be, then I ask that you continue reading.
You pride yourselves on being an academy of elites.
But I must ask:
Are you the academy that creates elites, or merely the academy that collects them?
Because if it is the latter—
Then your success is not a testament to your academics, but a consequence of your selection.
Haru Urara is not elite.
She is not exceptional.
She is, by all accounts, substandard.
And yet...
She runs.
She loses, and she smiles.
She falls behind, and she continues forward.
She is not driven by talent, nor by expectation, but by something far more difficult to develop...
A stubborn will to keep going.
If your academy is truly capable,
Then I ask you to prove it.
Take in a student who does not already shine.
Take in one who has no guarantee of success.
Take in Haru Urara—
Not as a safe investment,
But as a test of your own philosophy.
Can you turn even the substandard into something prodigious?
Or is your greatness limited only to refining what is already brilliant?
I do not claim that she will succeed.
I do not promise that she will meet your expectations.
But I will say this with certainty:
If there exists even the slightest chance for someone like her to become something more—
Then she will chase it, relentlessly.
So I leave this decision to you.
Not as educators choosing a student—
But as an institution, deciding what it truly stands for.
Sincerely, Kobashigawa Noriko."
Then silence settled between them.
Until—
"That's…" the director finally spoke.
"…absolutely BREATHTAKING!"
She burst into laughter, snapping her fan shut before pointing it straight at Rudolf.
"Tell me, Symboli Rudolf!"
"Do you believe what this letter claims?" she pressed. "That our academy exists merely because we select the best of the best?"
Rudolf smiled calmly.
"No, Director."
"I believe in our system," she said.
"I believe that our academy is capable of shaping even the most unrefined into something extraordinary."
"A pebble into a diamond. Ashes into a phoenix."
She stepped forward slightly.
"Which is why…"
"I propose we accept this exception."
"Let her in—not as a mistake, but as proof."
"A proof of what we truly are capable of."
"A chance to refine what may seem flawed."
The director's grin widened.
"I like your idea, Rudolf!"
"However," Tazuna interjected calmly.
"By all accounts, our academy's reputation is built upon elitism."
She gently placed the letter back on the table.
"If we are unable to reform a student like her within the allotted time..."
"It will inevitably tarnish the reputation of our esteemed academy, Rudolf."
"Therefore, I propose that she participate in the Entrance Exam. Afterward, we can reevaluate her standing within the academy."
"Regardless of the outcome, she is to be treated equally among all students."
"No favoritism—under any circumstance."
Rudolf nodded.
"Yes, noted."
Tazuna gave a small, approving nod in return.
Then—
The director snapped her fan open once more.
"In that case!" she declared, pointing forward.
"Ensure this applicant participates in the Entrance Exam, Rudolf!"
"I want to see her with my own eyes."
"Yes, Director," Rudolf replied.
The director then grinned.
"Good!"
"Then, this meeting is adjourned!"