Chapter 1: The Bottom Letter
Everyone knew what it meant to be in Section G.
It was the unspoken curse of Stark Academy. The further down the alphabet your section was, the lower your chances of being taken seriously by teachers, by classmates, even by yourself. And G? G was rock bottom. Graduating from a high class like class S will give you a lot of opportunities on job later on, so students strive to get that class.
No one chose to be at Class G. They were sent quietly exiled by test scores, behavior records, and a system that saw numbers before names. Section G students were the leftovers, the forgotten, the ones who had already been written off before the school year even began.
And yet, for seventeen-year-old Macibito Toro, this wasn't the end of the road. It was just the beginning.
The old room buzzed with flickering fluorescent lights and whispered complaints. Desks were scratched, the air smelled faintly of sweat and permanent marker, and the windows didn't quite open all the way. Mikael sat in the second row, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the clock. Three more minutes until homeroom.
He'd already made up his mind. He wasn't staying in Section G.
And he wasn't leaving alone.
The classroom sat in a heavy silence, broken only by the faint ticking of the wall clock. Three long minutes crawled by, each second stretching the air tighter with unease. Finally, the door creaked open. Their homeroom teacher entered, a thick stack of papers clutched in his arms. His face was unreadable, worn with the kind of exhaustion that didn't invite sympathy.
Without even sparing them a glance, he dropped the papers onto the teacher's desk with a dull, careless thud.
"These are your reviewers for the upcoming exams," he said, voice flat and cold. "You'll be taking the first exam of the year in three days. Study on your own. There's no point in teaching you. You're in the lowest section, after all."
For a heartbeat, no one moved. His words hung in the air, heavy and humiliating. Then, like a crack splitting the surface of still water, the classroom erupted into low murmurs and gasps of disbelief. Three days? With barely any preparation? It was impossible — a cruel setup for failure.
Machibito Toro sat frozen in his seat, the stack of reviewer papers now scattered across the desk in front of him. He picked one up with trembling fingers, the words swimming before his eyes. Around him, chairs scraped back, students shuffled toward the door, some whispering curses under their breath, others blinking hard to hold back the sting of frustrated tears.
The anger boiled quietly in Machibito's chest, mixing with a deep, hollow sadness. It wasn't just the short time they had been given. It was the way the teacher looked at them — as if they were already defeated. As if they weren't even worth the effort.
Clutching the crumpled reviewer tightly, Machibito followed the others out into the blinding afternoon sun. The heat pressed down on him, but it couldn't melt the cold knot twisting inside his stomach. Three days. No real guidance. No expectations. They had been thrown to the wolves — and worst of all, no one believed they could survive.
But as Machibito Toro walked home, the paper gripped tightly in his fist, a stubborn flame flickered to life inside him.
They might have given up on him already.
But he hadn't given up on himself.
Not yet.
The walk home felt longer than usual, every step weighed down by the ache in Machibito Toro's chest. The crumpled reviewer rustled in his hand, but he barely noticed. His mind was drowning in the impossible task ahead — three days to prepare for a make-or-break exam, armed with nothing but scraps.
As he crossed the familiar streets leading home, something unusual caught his eye.
The park near the school, usually empty at this hour, was packed with students.
His classmates.
Machibito slowed down, frowning. They weren't just hanging around. They were gathered in a tight circle near the old fountain, speaking in urgent, hushed voices. Before he could turn away, a voice called out.
"Toro! Over here!"
It was Hiro Sakura, the class president, his sharp eyes glinting with something serious.
Machibito hesitated for a moment, then tucked the reviewer papers under his arm and walked toward them. As he approached, the restless murmuring quieted, and the whole group turned to face him. There was something different in their expressions — not sadness anymore, but a reckless kind of determination.
Hiro stepped forward, lowering his voice just enough for only them to hear.
"We've been thinking. There's no way we can pass this exam fairly, not with the time we have left."
He glanced around, making sure no one else was listening. Then he leaned in closer, his next words sharp and deliberate.
"We're going to cheat."
Machibito blinked, caught between shock and disbelief as the group tightened the circle around him, ready to explain their plan.