The chime signaling the end of the fourth period rang.

While the teacher quickly announced the next assignment and upcoming quiz, some students were already stuffing textbooks into their bags or pulling back their chairs, waiting to stand up instantly.

The response time for the final greeting of fourth period is faster than any other, and the sound of chairs scraping is louder. It's as if everyone has been trained to move in unison. It's likely because everyone shares the same thought—'I want this to end'—resulting in an unconscious, mysterious sense of solidarity. Even those who usually move sluggishly and lazily show a bit more pep at this moment. One wishes they'd move that briskly all the time.

Amidst this, there was one person who stood up silently with characteristically efficient movements. Their posture was straight and beautiful. Even their bow was flawless. Kei Ikarugi. This person's conduct was always elegant.

However, the teacher wasn't going to be in a better mood or have their attention caught by a mere greeting. Even without being noticed by anyone, that person always gave a beautiful, unchanging greeting. It must be ingrained in them.

Their voice, which carried well without being loud, was clearly audible in the listless classroom. It was almost formal.

The moment the teacher said, "See you next week," and left the podium with their materials, the silent classroom erupted into noise as if a plug had been pulled. The silence during class felt like a lie. Everyone began to move freely. Some ran out of the room, some walked toward someone's seat with a smartphone, others put on earphones. Every single one of them was greeting their usual lunch break.

And that person, too. Re-seating themselves, they quickly stuffed their materials into their bag. They then shoved a handkerchief into their pocket and stepped out of the classroom. *Returning a short while later, they took out their bento as usual. Not talking to anyone, not eating with anyone. This was their "usual." Finding peace in a world of one, undisturbed by anyone. That was likely this person's tranquility.

That aura of not accepting interference from anyone exuded the usual cold lack of openings. The reason it felt that way wasn't just because of the person's sharp and cold appearance. Top grades, serious, highly evaluated by teachers. A member of the Student Council. Those achievements only served to amplify their unapproachability.

After taking a napkin and a bento box out of their lunch bag, they finally seemed to notice your presence, stopping their hands and turning only their gaze toward you.

At first glance, it sounded like a dismissal, but it seemed they had no intention of looking away until Guest answered. It was hard to tell if they were being kind or were just bored.