Chapter 20: Setting The Stage

A couple of days passed with Arashi delicately balancing between deliberately disrupting classes and meticulously meeting every test and practical quota. 

The pattern was clear to anyone watching closely—chaos followed by perfect competence, a contradiction that left instructors baffled and students whispering.

By the time Thursday arrived, the teachers could no longer ignore the situation that had been festering beneath the academy's pristine veneer.

The faculty gathered in their ornate main office, tension thick enough to cut with a blade as they sat around the long mahogany table. 

Sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the polished wood and illuminating the troubled expressions on their faces.

Several seats remained conspicuously empty—a silent testament to the absence of important figures who should have been present for such a critical discussion.

 The walls were adorned with ancient magical artifacts and precious gems that glowed softly, seemingly reacting to the charged atmosphere in the room.

Some professors appeared furious, veins bulging at their temples, while others displayed their frustration through tightly crossed arms and rigid postures. 

Despite their varying reactions, they all agreed on one undeniable fact: Arashi was becoming a dangerous problem that threatened the very foundations of their institution.

"The boy is starting to become more than a mere nuisance," Professor Alric said, his deep voice resonating through the chamber as he slammed his fist against the table.

 His hand causing several enchanted items to rattle in their display cases. "The school's sacred order is beginning to crumble, and we cannot allow that to continue another day."

"He's making fools of everyone—professors included," Professor Veren added, adjusting his spectacles with trembling fingers.

 "And what truly concerns me is that some students are beginning to not only tolerate but actually admire him." His voice dropped to a horrified whisper at the final words.

"But he hasn't technically broken any academy rules," Miss Aya interrupted, her voice steady despite the hostile glares suddenly aimed in her direction.

All eyes turned to her, a mixture of disbelief and betrayal evident in their gazes. 

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Are you defending him because you're the boy's homeroom teacher?" Instructor Reynard finally asked, his scarred face twisting into a sneer. 

"Never thought you of all people would go soft on discipline, Aya. Not after what happened last time."

Miss Aya's eyes narrowed slightly at the reference, but she maintained her composure.

"It is true that he hasn't broken any explicit school rules," Professor Alric conceded reluctantly, stroking his silver beard.

 "But his actions cannot go unchecked. We don't even know what he's planning, but he's clearly a misfit—a disruptive element in our carefully cultivated harmony."

"And we can't expel him without proper cause because he cleverly balances his practical work and exams just enough to meet the quota," Veren said, frustration evident in the way he crumpled the performance report in his hands.

 "He's found the one loophole in our system."

Miss Aya's lips curved into a subtle smile before she composed her features.

 "I suggest we begin the Survival Series earlier this year," she proposed, her voice deceptively casual.

The room fell into a shocked silence, heavy with implication.

Professors exchanged meaningful glances, unspoken communications passing between them.

 Some nodded slowly in understanding, while others looked troubled by the extreme solution.

"What do you think, Professor?" she said, turning toward the high-backed chair at the end of the table that faced away from the gathering, its occupant shrouded in shadow.

Meanwhile, in the academy's sun-dappled hallways, students never lacked subjects to gossip about, but lately, one name dominated every conversation: Arashi. Today, however, something new captured their attention.

A crowd gathered around the notice board where an ornate scroll had been posted, its edges shimmering with a faint magical glow. 

By the time students finished reading it, all talk about Renji's mysterious disappearance days ago had become ancient history.

The scroll's elegant script proclaimed: "Survival Series Test, to commence on April third and conclude on the ninth."

"Hey, have you heard?" a girl with braided hair whispered urgently to her friend as they stepped away from the notice.

"Yeah, I've heard that the Survival Series will begin next week," her companion replied, clutching her books tighter to her chest. "Everyone's saying it's unusually early this year."

"No, not just that," the first girl leaned closer, lowering her voice further.

 "I'm talking about the reason the test is being held earlier. My cousin works in the administrative office, and she overheard everything."

"Don't tell me..." her friend's eyes widened in realization.

"Yep," she nodded gravely. "It's because of the magic-less one."

"Speak of the devil," her friend whispered, subtly gesturing down the hallway where Arashi walked.

 Seemingly oblivious to the stares following his every move.

Arashi moved through the corridor with unhurried confidence, a small leather-bound book in his hands. 

Despite appearing absorbed in his reading, he was keenly aware of every pair of eyes tracking him, every whispered word about him.

'Why are they looking at me like that?' he thought, inwardly amused.

 'Don't they know that after all the players are introduced, it's only right to set the stage?' A slight smirk played across his lips as he turned a page.

"You look happy," a melodic voice broke into his thoughts. "You expected this, didn't you?"

Ayame had appeared beside him as if materializing from thin air, her silver hair catching the light from the crystal lamps along the hallway.

"Hmm?" he replied, pretending he hadn't sensed her following him for the past three corridors. 

Then, with practiced casualness, he added, "I didn't see you there. What were you saying?"

She moved closer, her violet eyes boring into his.

 "Whatever you're planning, I want in," she declared boldly, closing the distance between them until her face was mere inches from his.

"But I'm not planning anything," he responded, his face a perfect mask of innocence that didn't waver under her intense scrutiny.

'He's pretending like he doesn't understand what I'm saying,' Ayame thought. 'I guess he doesn't trust me at all, not yet anyway.' 

She studied his impassive features with growing fascination.

Her violet eyes sparkled with curiosity as she changed tactics.

 "I heard the student council wanted to talk to you," she mentioned, watching for any reaction.

"Was that what all those letters were about?" Arashi asked nonchalantly, eyes still focused on the text before him.

Though he hadn't absorbed a single word since she'd approached.

"Did you even bother to read them?" she pressed, noting how his fingers tightened slightly on the book's spine.

"What do you think?" he countered, still not deigning to look at her directly.

"You know those guys don't handle rejection well," she said sarcastically, a knowing edge to her voice.

"I can tell by the number of letters they sent me," he replied dryly, finally looking up from his book with the barest hint of amusement in his eyes.

She let out a genuine chuckle, the sound light and surprisingly warm. 

As they walked side by side, a faint blush colored her normally pale cheeks.

Students watching this exchange froze in disbelief. In their eyes, Kagura Ayame was perfection personified

Serious, unapproachable, and coldly brilliant. She stood at the pinnacle of the school's rigid hierarchy, untouchable and revered.

Yet here she was, walking beside the academy's most notorious outcast, looking more animated than anyone had ever seen her.

"So why did you quit the student council?" Arashi asked, skillfully changing the subject while gathering information.

Her violet eyes widened momentarily, caught off guard by his direct question. "Well, I had my reasons," she recovered quickly. 

"And I can't remain part of the student council after making enemies with them by joining House Kurobane."

"Is that so?" he replied, pretending to return his attention to his book.

"Well, it's your fault for making enemies of the entire academy," she countered, watching his profile closely.

"Enemies?" Genuine surprise flickered across his features before he controlled it. "I don't have any enemies at this academy."

"I see," she said softly, studying his calm face with newfound understanding. "I never thought you saw things that way."

'So in your eyes, no one at the academy is even worthy of being considered your enemy,' she mused silently as they walked.

 'While everyone is busy sharpening their fangs, plotting ways to take you down, to you they're all nothing but stepping stones—maybe even less than that.'

Her silver hair caught the breeze from an open window, dancing around her face as she continued her assessment.

 'The more I talk to you, the more interesting you become. Now I'm certain choosing you was the right path.'

Arashi's thoughts ran parallel to hers but in a different direction.

 'The Survival Series test... so the student council has made their move. This test is their way of saying I'm not welcome here.' His expression remained neutral as they entered their classroom, but beneath it, calculations were already forming.

Later, as classes began, Miss Aya finished calling the roll with barely concealed disinterest. 

Her normally vibrant demeanor seemed dull today, her movements listless as she addressed the class.

"I'm sure you've all read about the event next week," she said, her voice lacking its usual enthusiasm.

 "Do your best and good luck." She moved to return to her desk, clearly considering the matter closed.

"Teacher," Leonhart called out, raising his hand with perfect form, his immaculate uniform and groomed appearance contrasting sharply with his challenging tone.

 "I'm sure not everyone knows about this Survival Series event. We'd all appreciate more details."

Meanwhile, Misaka sat at her desk looking unusually grumpy, her attention clearly elsewhere as she stole furtive glances at Arashi rather than paying attention to the class discussion.

 The dark circles under her eyes suggested she hadn't slept well.

From the shadowed corners of the classroom, unseen figures observed Arashi with calculating intensity, waiting for any sign of weakness.

"What? I already said all the necessary information you need," Miss Aya complained, sighing dramatically.

 "What else is left? Why exaggerate so much?" She leaned against her desk, looking as if the very act of explaining was exhausting.

'This class is full of such peculiar people,' Ayame thought, her gaze wandering over her classmates before settling on Arashi's profile. 

'Even the teacher is a little special. Now, Arashi...' A small smile played across her lips. 'I can't wait to see what you have in mind for this upcoming performance.'

As the light from the window caught Arashi's face, the shadow of a smile appeared—not the practiced mask he showed the world.

But something genuine and dangerous. The pieces were moving into position, exactly as he had anticipated.