No, no, no, no, no—hold on a second.
Asakusa Tōru was stunned by the name he'd just thought of.
It wasn't that Shiina Mashiro's existence surprised him. He'd known about her for a long time.
A world-class oil painting prodigy—anyone who paid a little attention to the news would know who she was.
What shocked him was something else entirely.
"Didn't you damn well promise me it was only Classroom of the Elite?!"
He had trusted the diary's power.
He had trusted its introduction.
He had trusted every word it said.
And now, not even two months in, you're distributing more diaries?
Without even notifying him?
It was precisely because it had clearly stated at the beginning that only students from Advanced Nurturing High School would receive diary copies that he had acted so boldly.
So openly.
So recklessly.
Pulling stunts.
Exposing things.
Even casually inviting Kushida over for popsicles.
Even if his identity were exposed, so what? Worst case, he'd get expelled and find somewhere else to keep writing.
All of that confidence—
Came from the diary's original restriction on its distribution range.
He knew full well that if only students within the school could see his entries, none of them could truly do anything to him.
That was why he'd let himself go like this.
But now you're telling him Shiina Mashiro is here too?
…
Mashiro herself wasn't the real problem.
On paper, she was absurdly talented.
On paper, she was also harmless.
Clueless about the world. Unable to take care of herself. A pure white lamb.
If anything, the danger was someone accidentally hurting her.
The real issue was this:
Mashiro's appearance meant the diary's "unbreakable promise" had shattered.
Trust crisis.
If diary copies weren't limited to Advanced Nurturing High School…
If the people reading his entries weren't just students from this school…
Asakusa paused to think about the characters he'd confirmed existed in this world so far.
…Actually, not that many?
That was unexpected.
He'd assumed he could recall at least a few terrifying figures he absolutely couldn't afford to provoke.
But thinking carefully—
There wasn't really anyone he couldn't handle, was there?
He was an orphan.
No family to drag down.
Even without the infinite recording pens, just with his current physique from the White Gym, he could disappear anywhere if needed.
With the universal room key, once outside school, he'd have unrestricted access.
Unless some idiot nuked Tokyo and took him and all of Japan with it, there wasn't much reason for something catastrophic to happen.
…Right?
There wouldn't be someone that insane, right?
"…"
Suddenly, he wasn't entirely sure.
No, it should be fine.
At most, high-profile figures who might receive diary copies would be someone like Shinomiya Kaguya from the Shinomiya Group, or Suzuki Sonoko from the Suzuki conglomerate.
The former had no real authority. Even if provoked, it wouldn't amount to much.
The latter was more dangerous—but judging by the past two months at Advanced Nurturing High School, there had been no disturbances. No chairman replacements. No suspicious teacher transfers.
That probably meant Suzuki Sonoko hadn't received a copy.
Overall, Advanced Nurturing High School's government backing functioned as a natural shield.
Most external forces wouldn't be able to interfere.
Unless…
The supernatural phenomenon he'd searched for over the past decade suddenly began spreading in this world.
And the diary happened to give a copy to some major underworld figure who felt provoked and decided to eliminate him.
…Annoying.
A sense of crisis was forming, entirely because of the diary's inconsistency.
"…"
After a moment of hesitation, Asakusa raised his hand and placed it under Kushida's nose, lightly checking her breathing.
Steady.
Calm.
Not pretending to sleep.
He had already confirmed that the diary's perception filter worked.
As long as the topic was mentally associated with the diary—even without explicitly saying "diary"—it would still be covered.
But honestly…
He was starting to have a crisis of trust with the diary itself.
Tell me straight.
Did you crawl out of Ciweimao or something?
Acting all formal and rule-bound at the beginning, like a properly structured system—
Only to be riddled with loopholes, either screwing over the host or trying to kill him outright?
"Stop playing dead. Get out here and face your dad," he muttered under his breath.
The perception filter should still be active.
Even if it failed, worst case scenario he'd exchange leverage with Kushida and figure out a united front later.
There was no way he was kicking her out right now. That'd be cold even for him.
He could leave her here and go find somewhere else to confront the diary.
But after thinking it through, he stayed where he was.
Not because he was reluctant to move.
But because he realized—
This was the lowest-cost opportunity to re-test the diary's perception filter.
He needed to rebuild trust.
"Hey."
He tapped the diary impatiently.
Right before his eyes, the open diary slowly closed.
Then—
The cover began to change.
Black-and-white text surfaced.
[Current Story: Classroom of the Elite]
[Current Story: The Pet Girl of Sakurasou]
[Upcoming Story: Kaguya-sama: Love Is War]
[Upcoming Story: Bocchi the Rock!]
[Upcoming Story: BanG Dream! It's MyGO!!!!!]
[Upcoming Story: BanG Dream! Ave Mujica]
Seeing it continue scrolling as if about to list even more, Asakusa hurriedly cut it off.
"Enough, enough. Stop reciting the menu to your dad. I get it—you're planning to hand out a ton more copies. We're not talking about that right now. You can list dishes later."
"Let's talk about compensation."
Negotiating with a diary was about as ridiculous as bargaining with a system.
But how would you know it wouldn't budge unless you tried?
If he managed to squeeze something out of it, that'd be pure profit.
So of course he'd speak up.
When a rock falls, whether or not you're the one most hurt, you'd better be the loudest one shouting.
The louder you shout, the bigger the compensation.
Making a fuss costs nothing.
You lose a bit of face at most.
But if you win something, that's real benefit.
"So tell me," he said slowly, "didn't we agree at the start that it was only Classroom of the Elite?"
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