Classroom Of The Elite: The Silent Syndicate

"The measure of intelligence is the ability to change."

— Albert Einstein

Ring Ring Ring

The sharp vibration of my phone cut through the air, pulling my attention away. Sliding it out of my pocket, I glanced at the screen to see a message from an unexpected sender: Sakagami-sensei.

The message was brief but unsettling in its vagueness.

"Meet me in the staffroom."

I frowned. Sakagami-sensei wasn't the type to reach out unless it was something important—or troublesome. A request like this, without context, had the faint sting of suspicion clinging to it.

Strange.

Pocketing my phone, I turned to the person closest to me, Ryuen, who was leaning casually against a desk, exuding his usual air of smug confidence. His ever-present smirk played across his lips as if he had been let in on some cosmic joke the rest of the world wasn't privy to.

"Hey, Ryuen," I started, keeping my tone casual, "you know where the teacher's lounge is?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "The staffroom, huh? Didn't think you'd be the type to get summoned there."

"Neither did I."

Ryuen's smirk widened as he lazily pointed down the hall. "Just head down the hallway, take a left, and it's the door with the 'staff only' sign. Can't miss it."

I nodded in acknowledgment, but his lingering gaze told me he wasn't done.

"You in trouble or something?" he asked, feigning concern but clearly fishing for details.

"Not that I know of," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

Ryuen chuckled, a low, amused sound that grated on the nerves. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that." His smirk widened into something resembling amusement.

Rolling my eyes, I turned away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of any further reaction. As I made my way down the hallway, I couldn't wonder what Sakagami wanted from me.

The sound of my footsteps echoed softly, the quiet stretching unnervingly as I approached the staff-only door. 

I opened the door and went inside only to see a girl with light pinkish hair and a woman who looks to be in her 30s standing and talking to each other.

"Honami-chan, I think the student council just doesn't want any first-year students," Hoshinomiya-sensei said, her tone lilting with exaggerated sympathy.

"Why are you saying that, Hoshinomiya-sensei?" 

"If any student deserves to get into the student council, it's you, Honami-chan," Hoshinomiya replied.

"Maybe there are more deserving students than me," Honami said thoughtfully, though her tone betrayed a flicker of doubt. "But I've heard that even students from Class 1-A were rejected." 

Hoshinomiya waved a hand dismissively. "The school president is... let's just say he's particular. Probably looking for someone who checks all his impossible little boxes."

"But honestly, Honami-chan, you're everything they should be looking for—charismatic, brilliant, capable. It's their loss if they're blind to that."

Honami's lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe he has his reasons," she said, though the edge of uncertainty remained. "From what I've heard, the president is one of the best students this school has ever had. He's probably trying to find someone who fits his vision for the council perfectly."

Before Hoshinomiya-sensei could respond, the door creaked slightly as it closed behind me. Both of them turned, their gazes locking onto me. 

Hoshinomiya's lips curved into a sly smile. "Oh my what a pretty boy we have, isn't that right Honami-chan?" 

The pink-haired girl let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment as her teacher's teasing tone filled the room.

"Sorry to interrupt," I said, keeping my voice calm but firm, "but can you tell me where Sakagami-sensei's office is?"

Hoshinomiya-sensei tilted her head, her sly smile never wavering. "Sakagami? So you're one of his students—Class 1-C, huh?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. 

"Why did that old geezer get such a good-looking student? It's almost unfair." 

"..." 

"Anyways pretty boy what's your name?" She said closing the distance between us. I felt her press her boobs against me. This woman either has no self awareness or is just a pedophile or has no self dignity. 

"Takashiro," I said flatly, sidestepping slightly to put some distance between us. "Takashiro Ren."

"Takashiro Ren, huh? Such a proper name for such a proper-looking boy. I bet the girls in your class are all over you."

I didn't bother replying, knowing anything I said would only fuel her unnecessary commentary. The pink haired girl, sensing the awkwardness, cleared her throat.

"Hoshinomiya-sensei," she said softly, trying to redirect the conversation, "I think Sakagami-sensei's office is just down the hall, right?" 

Hoshinomiya pouted as if disappointed her fun was being cut short. "Oh, fine," she relented with a dramatic sigh. "Yes, pretty boy, his office is just down the hall to the right. But honestly, Sakagami's no fun at all. You should join my class instead. There are a lot of pretty girls there like Honami-chan."

I gave Hoshinomiya-sensei a blank look, her words sliding off me like water on glass. "I'll keep that in mind," I replied dryly, already turning toward the door.

The pink-haired girl, Honami, gave me a small, apologetic smile. 

I pushed the encounter to the back of my mind and made my way further down the hall, following Hoshinomiya's directions. The door to Sakagami-sensei's office came into view—a plain wooden barrier marked with his nameplate, exuding none of the drama or flair I'd just walked out of.

Knocking twice, I waited briefly before hearing a gruff, familiar voice call out, "Come in."

I opened the door and stepped inside. Sakagami-sensei sat behind his desk, his usual stern demeanor intact. He glanced up from a stack of papers, his sharp eyes meeting mine.

"Takashiro," he acknowledged, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Sit."

I closed the door behind me and took the offered seat. 

"So why you called teach, is there something important?" 

"You probably know what happened to Ibuki right?" 

"Yeah why you asking?" 

"Well you see, Ibuki said to the student council if they want to ask any questions, they should ask us." 

"Make sense I told her to say that." 

"Listen, I know this whole thing with Ibuki has been fabricated by you guys. It is fake I know that much." 

"Yeah ok. I still don't get why you call me for that if you already know that much." 

"Horikita Manabu is already becoming wary that this whole thing is a lie. All students that you guys targeted are from his class after all. So what is your plan Takashiro?" 

"...there is no plan."

Sakagami's eyes narrowed, studying me with an intensity that made the air in the room feel thicker. "No plan? That's not like you, Takashiro. You always have something up your sleeve."

"The council has been doing research on every student in class 1-C." Sakagami said.

"huh?"

Sakagami leaned forward, his expression shifting to one of concern. "I mean they've been digging into personal information about every student in Class 1-C. They have profiles, backstories, everything. And I have a feeling they're not doing it for fun." 

"I see..." 

"You know you are quite an anomaly if we are being serious." 

"..."

"You have no entrance exam mark and neither a backstory or a profile the school can judge you on. It's weird to say the least and yet the director accepted you. I don't know you Takashiro, all I know is that you are someone that can help me reach Class A." He said while taking out a cigarette. 

"Want one?" He added.

"Sure."

Sakagami offered me a cigarette, and I accepted it, curious about the unusual atmosphere. He lit one for himself, taking a long drag as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, filling the small office with a haze that softened the edges of his stern expression. 

"Listen like I said I don't really care about your past or who you are? Every men has their own demons. What I am saying is help me reach Class A, that's all."

I leaned back in my chair, letting the smoke curl lazily around me as I processed Sakagami's request. His straightforwardness surprised me, but I could sense the weight of his desperation beneath the surface. 

"I know that reaching Class A isn't your main goal Takashiro. Why did you come to this school and why become the leader of Class C?"

I took a slow drag from the cigarette, letting the acrid smoke fill my lungs before exhaling it in a steady stream. Sakagami's gaze never wavered, his eyes locked onto mine like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Why I came here, huh?" I repeated, a faint smirk tugging at my lips. "Isn't that the million-dollar question?"

Sakagami didn't reply, his silence a challenge, daring me to fill the void with truth—or whatever version of it I chose to spin.

Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees, cigarette dangling lazily between my fingers. "Let me make one thing clear, sensei. I didn't come to this school to chase some fantasy." 

"Then why?" he pressed, his voice low and edged with curiosity.

"Because I had no choice." I replied, flicking ash from the tip of my cigarette. "Either way, Class A isn't my endgame. If I help you get there, it'll be because it serves my purpose—not yours."

"Also I became class leader for a whole different reason than you are thinking."

Sakagami chuckled, the sound dry and devoid of real humor. "Fair enough. But let me give you a piece of advice—this school has a way of biting back at those who think they're untouchable. Don't underestimate it."

"I never underestimate anything," I said, standing up and stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray on his desk. "But thanks for the warning, sensei." 

"One last thing, Takashiro."

I paused, hand on the doorknob, glancing back over my shoulder.

"If you're planning to play your games with the student council, be careful. Manabu Horikita isn't the kind of opponent you can manipulate easily. He'll see right through you if you're not careful."

"Yeah don't worry about it." 

He simply leaned back in his chair, exhaling another puff of smoke.

"Sensei, I have a question to ask you before I go." 

"What is it?" 

"Do you believe in the concept of perfection? A person so good at everything that he doesn't flaw?" 

Sakagami took a long drag of his cigarette, letting the question hang in the air. His eyes narrowed slightly as he exhaled the smoke, the faint smirk of a man who'd seen too much of the world and its imperfections curling at the edges of his lips.

"Perfection?" he repeated, his voice tinged with skepticism. "No, Takashiro, I don't. Perfection is a myth cooked up by people who don't want to face reality. Every person has their flaws—some just hide them better than others."

I watched him carefully, gauging the weight behind his words. There was no hesitation in his tone, no doubt. He was a man who had come to terms with the chaos of human nature long ago.

"But..." he continued, leaning forward slightly, his gaze sharp and probing. "If there were someone like that—flawless, untouchable, perfect in every sense—they'd either be a god or a monster. And either way, they'd be a dangerous thing to cross."

A flicker of amusement danced across my face. "Interesting perspective, sensei. And what if someone like that did exist? What would you do?"

Sakagami chuckled dryly, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray I'd just criticized. "I'd do the same thing I always do—survive. The world's full of people who think they're perfect until reality slaps them in the face. Even gods and monsters can bleed, Takashiro. Remember that." 

"And how would you defeat a being like that?"

Sakagami-sensei paused, his gaze sharpening as if dissecting the weight behind my question. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin, the faint remnants of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Defeat them?" he mused, his tone thoughtful yet edged with skepticism. "The first step is understanding that perfection, in itself, is a flaw. Someone who's perfect... they have blind spots because they believe themselves to be untouchable. That arrogance, whether subtle or overt, will always be their undoing."

I raised an eyebrow, curious. "What if they aren't arrogant? What if they truly are flawless—no ego, no mistakes, no vulnerabilities?"

His smirk widened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. "Then you play the long game. No one, not even your so-called perfect being, exists in isolation. They rely on something—people, systems, routines. You don't attack them directly; you dismantle their foundation piece by piece until they're left standing on nothing but air."

He tapped his temple, as if driving the point home. "Perfection is a house of cards, Takashiro. It might look solid, but one well-placed gust is all it takes to bring the whole thing down."

I mulled over his words, my expression unreadable. "So you're saying you'd focus on their surroundings, their dependencies?"

"Exactly," he said, leaning forward now, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "You don't need to fight the perfect being head-on. You make the world around them so chaotic, so unpredictable, that even their perfection can't compensate. The trick is patience—and knowing when to strike."

I couldn't help but smirk at his response. It wasn't entirely wrong, but his reliance on indirect methods was telling. "Interesting strategy, sensei. But what if that being thrives in chaos? What if they're more dangerous when everything's falling apart?"

Sakagami's eyes narrowed, his smirk fading slightly. "Then you're not dealing with a person anymore. You're dealing with something else entirely—a force of nature. And the only way to beat a force of nature is to endure it, outlast it. Even storms run out of rain eventually, Takashiro."

He sat back, exhaling one last puff of smoke, his gaze piercing. "But tell me, Takashiro, why the sudden interest in perfect beings? You planning to go up against one?" 

"I always thought that someone in this world must be close to perfection; after all, no one is equal on Earth. There has to be someone out there who embodies the ideal—strength, intellect, grace." 

Sakagami raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Idealism won't get you far in a world filled with chaos. Perfection is an illusion, a construct we cling to in our weakness. The truth is, those who appear perfect are often hiding their own cracks beneath the surface. They're just as flawed as you and me." Sakagami chuckled slightly, though there was no humor in his eyes. "Also equality? That's a pretty word people like to throw around to make themselves feel better. But the truth? The world's never been equal, and it never will be. There will always be someone smarter, faster, stronger—someone who rises above the rest."

He leaned forward, his voice dropping into a serious tone. "But let me tell you something, Takashiro. Being above others doesn't make you untouchable. It just makes you a bigger target. The higher you climb, the harder the fall."

I tilted my head slightly. "A fall only hurts if you weren't prepared for it."

Sakagami studied me, his expression unreadable. "You're an interesting one, Takashiro. Always playing the long game, always thinking three steps ahead. But don't let that confidence blind you. No matter how perfect you think someone might be, they're still human—or at least bound by the limitations of this world. Maybe the only way to beat someone like this is to develop others."

"Develop others? You mean turn them into tools to take down the god?"

Sakagami nodded slowly, as if weighing his words. "Exactly. You cultivate strength in those around you, making them not just allies, but potential threats to whoever sits at the top. When you lift others, you build a support system that can outlast the power of a single individual."

"To be honest I thought the same thing."

"Oh? So you've already been thinking along those lines, huh?"

"Yeah." 

Sakagami's gaze sharpened, a flicker of interest igniting behind his eyes. "I see. You've got some ambitious ideas brewing, then. It's rare to find someone your age thinking about the bigger picture. But what's your endgame, Takashiro? Building a team just to take down one perfect being?" 

"Maybe." 

"Maybe?"

I stood, adjusting my uniform and casting a glance at the ashtray on his desk. "Anyways good chat, sensei. I'll take your advice into consideration." 

He watched me for a moment, then nodded.

"Oh, and about that ashtray—consider investing in something that doesn't scream 'bargain bin.' It's almost an insult to the cigarettes."

Sakagami chuckled dryly. "Get out of here before I start regretting this conversation."

With that, I stepped out of the office, leaving Sakagami behind in the hazy, smoke-filled room.