They say human beings were born to feel.

That emotions are proof of our existence.

My father used to say the opposite.

According to him, feeling was humanity's first mistake.

The second was trying to justify it.

I was raised with that idea:

perfection is not achieved by loving, but by understanding.

Not with the heart, but with logic.

From a young age, I learned that tears didn't solve equations,

that sadness didn't produce results,

and that love only derailed a plan.

While other children played, I learned to calculate the exact emotional distance between people.

I learned not to need anyone.

My father dreamed of a world governed by pure reason,

a system where every decision was as exact as a mathematical formula.

A world where the chaos of the human soul didn't exist.

But he... failed.

His body gave way before his mind, and in his failure, he gave me an inheritance I didn't ask for:

to become the culmination of his dream.

And so I was born to be a tool.

An experiment.

A mind without flaws.

Or so I thought.

"Sayuri, are you awake?"

The voice of her classmate and best friend echoed softly.

"If you don't wake up, we won't make it to the graduation ceremony."

Sayuri opened her eyes. In front of her was Kaori Hasegawa: black hair, impeccable posture. Her great companion, the person who had changed her world. When her calculations said no factor could alter its possible outcomes, Kaori, in one way or another, completely transformed the events.

"Kaori... is today the day of the ceremony?"

"Of course it is! What happened to you? You fell asleep."

"I remembered my beginnings. It was totally different... thanks to you, I was able to see the world differently."

"Um, yes, but thank me after we get out of here."

As Kaori left Sayuri's room to change, Sayuri's mind traveled back to the first day she entered the academy. A reminder that effort could change even a person like her.

And so her first day began.

The day of the entrance ceremony

The train was packed. The cold air that seeped through the cracks made each breath seem like an inaccurate calculation.

Around her, young people wearing the same academy uniform chatted, laughed, and shared expectations for the future. Sayuri watched.

An elderly woman who had just boarded stumbled in front of her. She could help her, of course... but it wasn't necessary. Her interest wasn't in the action, but in the observation. She wanted to see who, among so many applicants, was capable of acting out of conviction rather than instinct.

No one did.

A few steps away, a blond-haired student—who looked like an athlete—was arguing with a man who looked like a doctor. Everything seemed to revolve around getting priority seating for the elderly woman, who could barely stand.

"Hey, could you do me a favor and give up your seat for the lady?" the man asked.

"And why would I have to? I don't have any obligation... or do I?"

"Because that's what society dictates. She's your superior, and you should give in to your elders. It's something basic you should know."

The boy smiled ironically.

"Let's see, tell me something. First: there's no rule that forces me to do it. But there is that hierarchy in the world. Even if we say we're all equal—men, women, young or old—there will always be a hidden layer that determines who gets more benefits. That's the true order, don't you think, sir?"

"Even if it were, don't you think it's a little inhumane? A lack of morality?"

The tension was palpable. The old woman didn't want to be the center of attention and decided not to intervene.

Ego, morality, and logic in conflict, all condensed into a minimal dispute, revealing more than any psychological exam.

Sayuri simply crossed her arms and waited. It confirmed her hypothesis: under low pressure, most people prefer to feign indifference rather than expose themselves to social judgment.

The blond boy sighed, relaxed, with an expression of utter disinterest.

"I don't care," he said. "You can keep talking while listening to music."

He turned the volume up to maximum. The man frowned.

"Excuse me, ma'am, I couldn't get through to him. He seems a bit inexperienced... although with that kind of ego, he won't get far."

The old woman just nodded.

Just when it seemed the situation was over, an attractive, somewhat shy young man wearing the same uniform as Sayuri appeared. His voice was calm but firm.

"Could you give up your seat to the lady? That way you'd contribute a little to society."

The blond man looked at him without interest.

"Are you really saying that? I don't care in the least about 'contributing' to this society. I only think about myself. I don't care about anything else."

The boy didn't give up.

"Please, could someone give up their seat for the lady?"

The car fell into an awkward silence. Sayuri wasn't going to move either. Although she was in a priority seat, she remained seated perfectly, without disturbing any of the order of the system.

Then she heard Kaori's firm voice for the first time:

"I think we should all listen a little."

She turned her face slightly. Kaori was there, with a neutral tone and an imperturbable gaze. She wasn't seeking attention, just poise. That was interesting to Sayuri.

She felt that Kaori, from that moment on, would be very useful.

Then a young woman stood up, perhaps moved by guilt.

"Here you are, ma'am. I'll give you my seat."

"Thank you very much, miss."

"You're welcome, I'll walk you."

The atmosphere calmed. The train moved to the terminal station, and the crowd disembarked with murmurs.

The bright sign read: "Kurohana Academy." The academy operated like a city of its own, with its own currency. Chaos seemed inevitable; the students could hardly maintain rational sustainability.

At the entrance, another sign declared: "We mold those who will build tomorrow." It wasn't a threat. It was a promise.

As they walked along the platform, Kaori stopped Sayuri with a precise gesture.

"You looked at me a moment ago. Why?"

"Just curious," Sayuri replied. "I noticed that you didn't help the old woman either."

"Exactly. I saw no point in doing so. I act according to my own rules, not out of habit or social pressure."

His answer was so logical that Sayuri almost smiled. For the first time, someone spoke her language.

That day, she realized that Kaori wasn't an obstacle, but a controlled variable. A potential ally. For now.

They walked to school, side by side, without speaking, with an almost uneasy synchronicity. Between the footsteps and the murmurs of others, Sayuri had one clear certainty: in Kurohana, no one would play fair.

And to survive there, it wasn't enough to think. Every relationship had to be calculated... like a human equation.

Because that was what her father gave her: a brilliant mind, without allowing feelings to interfere with her future goal.

Sayuri Akurisawa never enjoyed welcoming ceremonies. Judging by the expressions of the other first-year students, she wasn't alone. Before the event began, everyone headed to their homeroom, where the teachers would explain how the academy worked.

She decided to stay out of it. She knew the first few days were defining: a mistake could be costly... or, worse, the loss of social influence. While she waited, she mentally reviewed strategies for approaching others: brief conversations, discreet exchange of contacts, reading gestures and expressions. When she entered the classroom, she chose a seat near the window, at the back. In front of her, a solitary boy stared into the void. Sayuri considered it, but decided not to approach without a plan. The classroom slowly began to fill up, and she wondered how boring this class would be... or how interesting it would be to have new pieces on her board.

Then, a voice pulled her from her thoughts. A girl placed her backpack next to hers. It was Kaori Hasegawa, with whom Sayuri had had a brief discussion earlier. She took the initiative.

"Hello, my name is Sayuri Akurisawa. I hope we get along," she said.

"So we're in the same class, huh?" Kaori replied in a serious but controlled tone. "I doubt it's a coincidence."

"But anyway," Sayuri replied with a faint smile, "you're my neighbor, so let's get along."

Kaori nodded with an almost resigned expression.

"I guess I have no choice, do I? My name is Kaori Hasegawa."

Sayuri thought nothing was a coincidence: the system was designed that way. And she was right.

At that moment, a man in his thirties walked in, with a stern face and short hair. His demeanor was reminiscent of Sayuri's past mentors.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Emiko Tanaka, a professor at this institution for the past five years." I'll be with you all year. Before we begin, I'll give you some brochures about how the academy works.

When Ayame Kobayashi offered to hand them out, Sayuri noticed her manner of speaking: polite, energetic, but genuine. The brochure read:

Welcome to Kurohana Academy, where the best students in the world graduate. Each class will start with 10,000 points. The lowest will repeat the year. Of the 120 students who enter, only 20 will graduate. Each month, there will be four activities: a written test, a physical test, a strategic test, and the Kurohana Festival test. Starting March 3, 2025, each student will receive 100,000 Kurei, the academy's exclusive currency. They will not be allowed to leave or contact their families without the director's permission.

Murmurs began to fill the room. Sayuri and Kaori exchanged a silent glance.

After the explanations, Professor Tanaka allowed them to introduce themselves freely. The first was Ayame Kobayashi, a girl with long hair and a friendly smile.

"Hello, my name is Ayame Kobayashi. I like sports, especially volleyball. I want to make lots of friends here."

Sayuri immediately noticed that she would be a future leader. Next was Tsubasa Inoue, the boy from the train.

"My... my name is Tsubasa Inoue. I like reading books. I hope we get along."

His shyness was evident, but his effort made him stand out.

"You did well," Ayame replied with a smile.

"You'll improve, and I'll help you."

Then Haruto Fujimoto, a young man with blue hair and a challenging gaze, stood up.

"I'm the best at sports, especially basketball. If you want to learn, you'll come to me. But if you go looking for trouble... you'll regret it."

Sayuri noticed his physical potential, but also his difficulty cooperating. Ayame, without losing her composure, thanked her anyway.

Then it was Kaori's turn, who calmly introduced herself.

"My name is Kaori Hasegawa. I just want to go through every year without repeating a year. I hope we can work together."

Ayame nodded, determined.

"We'll be the first class not to repeat a year."

Then it was Sayuri's turn. She couldn't help feeling a little uncomfortable under so many stares.

"I'm Sayuri Akurisawa. There's nothing special about me. I hope I get along with everyone."

"Nice to meet you," Ayame said, friendly as ever.

The next to speak was Akari Fujita, a short, smiling, and intelligent-looking boy.

"If anyone needs help, I'm willing... as long as it's related to their studies."

Sayuri considered him trustworthy. Finally, Kaito Yamamoto, the troublemaker from the train, stood up with an arrogant smile.

"What's wrong? Why are you staring at me? Am I cute? Well, you're right. My name is Kaito Yamamoto. My hobbies are looking in the mirror and swimming. If anyone starts trouble with me, they'll know who's in charge."

His attitude was provocative, but there was something hidden behind his facade. Other students, like Natsumi Aoyama and Daichi Okabe, also introduced themselves, displaying diverse personalities. Ayame responded to everyone with the same kindness, gradually integrating the group.

Sayuri, meanwhile, sighed. Too much information… and too many variables to analyze in a single day.

KUROHANA RULES

System of Progression, Evaluation, and Resource Management (SPEAR) 📘 Article 1 — General Structure

Kurohana Academy is an advanced training institution for young people between the ages of 16 and 21, with an intensive program of six consecutive academic years.

Its purpose is to develop individuals capable of achieving excellence in any professional field through an education based on logic, strategy, and constant improvement.

Each academic year is composed of seven classes, identified by the letters A, B, C, D, E, F, and G.

📊 Article 2 — Annual Progression System

Student progress is determined collectively by the performance of their class.

Each group accumulates or loses points throughout the academic year.

At the end of the academic year, the classes with the lowest scores must repeat the year, while the others advance.

Year-Round Progression Scheme – Kurohana Academy Year-Round Student Structure

Each class: 20 students

Each year: 7 classes (A–G) → 140 students per year

Total Academy: 840 students

Year-Round Progression

Year-Round Classes Eligible for Advancement Classes at Risk of Retention/Dropping

1st A → F G

If G decides to drop, a place is freed up for repeating students from the previous year.

2nd A → E F, G

Classes F and G only advance if they obtain enough places from dropping out of other classes.

3rd A → D E, F, G

Limited promotion; repeating students may take up free places based on their performance.

4th Grade A → C D, E, F, G

The remaining classes repeat, drop, or use open spots.

5th Grade A → B C, D, E, F, G

Only the top of each class can apply for open spots if there are vacancies.

6th Grade Only one class graduates. The rest repeat/drop out.

Extremely selective graduation; open spots are limited and very competitive.

Open Spot Rules: Dropouts:

If a student or an entire class decides to drop out voluntarily, a spot is freed up the following year.

Spots Based on Individual Performance:

Repeating students with high grades can fill open spots, even if their class as a whole has not advanced.

Cumulative Spots:

If several classes drop out, the spots are accumulated and assigned to repeating students based on their individual ranking.

Class Grades and Scores: Determine whether students advance or repeat.

Individual Grades: Determine access to open spots and bonuses in the event of a tie between classes.

Repeating a year: This is not failure, but rather an opportunity for improvement.

Exceptional Total Promotion: If all classes exceed the minimum score, they all advance, but the quota system is maintained for students who chose not to repeat or drop classes.

Example Scenario – First Year

Class A: 10,000 points → advances

Class B: 9,000 points → advances

Class C: 8,000 points → advances

Class D: 7,000 points → advances

Class E: 6,000 points → advances

Class F: 5,000 points → advances

Class G: 4,000 points → repeats

Special Case:

If Class G decides to leave, one of the repeating students can take their spot and move on to the second year, even if their class had a low score.

With this, we now have a solid progression system that allows us to:

Keep classes united.

Adjust the difficulty of advancing year by year.

Introduce dynamism with open spaces and voluntary withdrawal decisions.

Encourage individual and collective competition.

Note: Repeating a year is not considered failure, but rather an opportunity for improvement.

Classes are renumbered each year based on their performance; therefore, a group can move from "Class C" to "Class A" while maintaining its original composition.

💯 Article 3 — Class Points

All classes begin the year with 10,000 institutional points.

These points determine their social standing, access to resources, and academic reputation.

Points are earned or lost based on:

Results of monthly activities (academic or strategic).

Collective evaluations.

Group conduct and cooperation.

Achievement of goals assigned by the Administration.