Cote: Elite in Action

The Silence that Speaks

The morning for the first-year students began with a different, almost frantic energy. The letters, scattered in the mailboxes of all the students, brought with them rumors that shook the school like a social earthquake. Of the five most shocking rumors, four pointed directly at Class D, transforming the atmosphere into something tense, almost suffocating.

Yamauchi, always the bold one, was the first to break the uncomfortable silence.

Yamauchi: —Hey, Shinohara! Is it true that you worked as a prostitute? —he asked without the slightest hint of shame, letting his words hang in the air, laden with malice.

Shinohara, with her face flushed with fury, immediately replied: —What kind of idiot do you think I am?! Of course not! —Her shout resonated in the room, but it couldn't erase the shadow of doubt that the letter had planted.

Without missing a beat, Yamauchi turned his attention to his next target: Hondou.

Yamauchi: —And you, Hondou? Is it true that you only like fat girls? Gross! —The mockery in his voice made several in the class giggle nervously.

A couple of seats away, Hondou, still embarrassed by Yamauchi's taunt, clutched his desk tightly, looking around for a way out of his public humiliation. Finally, he raised his voice to defend himself.

Hondou: —I... I have no problem with that! I like normal girls! —His voice sounded broken, insecure, and far from calming the situation, it only added fuel to the fire.

Yamauchi, not losing momentum, threw another disdainful comment: —Sure, sure, whatever you say. You'll probably meet one on your next trip to the buffet.

Laughter erupted in the class, though it was nervous, almost forced. No one wanted to be the next one pointed at, but the tension was so palpable that anything could spark a fight at any moment.

The class watched in complete silence, though some stifled awkward laughs, fearful of being next in the firing line.

Across the room, Onodera couldn't contain herself any longer and, with a look of confusion and some anger, turned to Satou.

Onodera: —Is it true that you hate me, Satou? —she asked, straightforwardly, searching for some truth in the other girl's eyes.

Satou, crossing her arms, replied with calculated indifference: —Well, no... —she said, but her body language told another story; her rigid arms and evasive gaze spoke louder than her words.

Onodera stared at her, not allowing herself to be deceived: —It's obvious that you're lying. If you don't hate me, why do you ignore me all the time? —Onodera's words were like daggers, and the class, in complete silence, awaited a response.

Satou, with a grimace of annoyance, shrugged: —I just want to hang out with other people, that's all.

The gazes crossed the classroom, some filled with doubt, others loaded with anger or even fear. The atmosphere was so thick it could almost be cut with a knife. Yamauchi, always with his insolent attitude, seemed to enjoy the spectacle.

Yamauchi: —Come on, Shinohara! No one would make something like that up if it weren't true, right? —he insisted, a sly smile stretching across his face as his classmates murmured among themselves.

Shinohara: —Shut up already, idiot! —Her face was red with rage, but also with the pain of feeling exposed in such a cruel way. Her eyes moistened, but she wasn't going to let Yamauchi see any tears. Her clenched fists trembled on her desk while some classmates looked awkwardly elsewhere.

Yamauchi only laughed, reveling in his role as the provocateur.

Yamauchi: —Oh, does the truth bother you, Shinohara? If it weren't true, you wouldn't be so nervous.