At the front of the room, Hoshinomiya sighs heavily against the wood.
"Alright, listen up," she says, her voice still muffled by the desk. "Homeroom is starting. Do you have any questions so far? Anything at all before I go to sleep... I mean, before I take attendance?"
She does not bother to look at the students. She just waits for the silence to confirm their lack of questions.
The word 'questions' echoes in Renjiro's ears.
His brain processes the term. A specific memory surfaces from the previous morning. He remembers the thick plastic ID card. He remembers the one hundred thousand points. Most importantly, he remembers the exact phrasing Hoshinomiya used when describing the campus rules.
*You can buy anything sold on campus... ...Literally anything.*
Renjiro stares at the back of the student sitting in front of him.
Nobody else speaks. The students of Class B are perfectly content. They have their money and their friends. They have zero complaints about their current situation.
Hoshinomiya lets out a long breath. She shifts her arms and prepares to close her eyes fully against the morning light.
Renjiro lifts his right arm and extends his hand straight up into the air.
Movement catches Mako's eye. She instinctively turns her head.
Her blue eyes go wide as she stares at his raised hand in pure shock. Her mouth falls open slightly.
What is going on? Mako thinks. She stares at his raised arm. Renji is incredibly lazy. He never raises his hand because the physical effort takes too much energy. He only acts when a problem severely bothers him. What could possibly be bothering him right now?
She has no idea that her constant presence forces him to raise his hand.
Hoshinomiya peeks one purple eye open from behind her messy bangs. She sees the hand raised in the back corner.
"Yes?" she asks slowly. She finally lifts her head from the desk and winces slightly as the sunlight hits her face. "What is it?"
The casual chatter in the room dies instantly.
Thirty-nine students turn their heads. Seventy-eight eyes lock directly onto Renjiro. The sudden silence feels heavy. The collective attention of the entire class focuses squarely on his desk.
Kanzaki narrows his eyes from the middle row. Ichinose tilts her head, a polite smile resting on her lips. Shibata looks completely confused.
Damn, Renjiro thinks. He drops his hand back down to his desk. I drew way too much attention.
But he cannot stop now. The path of least resistance requires a temporary sacrifice. If he endures thirty seconds of public scrutiny, he can secure three years of undisturbed naps. It is a necessary trade.
He looks straight past the staring students and locks eyes with the hungover teacher at the front podium.
"Sensei," Renjiro says, his voice a flat, even monotone. "I want to transfer seats. Is that possible?"
The students blink. A few exchange confused glances. It is the second day of school. Nobody asks for a seat change this early.
Hoshinomiya rests her chin heavily on her palm and looks at him with a lazy, half-lidded stare.
"Ehh? Absolutely not," she replies immediately. She sighs and waves her free hand dismissively. "Seat assignments are permanent for an entire semester. Just be a good boy and get along with your neighbor, okay?"
Next to him, Mako frowns. She leans in close, her voice an urgent whisper.
"What are you talking about, Renji?" she asks. Her eyebrows pull together in genuine confusion. "Why do you want to transfer seats?"
Renjiro completely ignores her question. His neck remains perfectly stiff, and his eyes stay locked firmly on the woman at the podium.
"Sensei," Renjiro continues, raising his voice just enough to cut over the silence of the room. "I want to buy a seat. Any seat away from this seat. Are seats for sale on this campus?"