Masterpiece: One final Test

Chapter 9: The nuances of human relationships.

The morning sunlight cast a soft glow over the campus as I made my way to class. Despite the peaceful surroundings, my mind remained focused on the weight of the items in my bag—a textbook filled with study plans and the laptop for the responsibilities that came with the position of Student Council Treasurer.

As I entered the classroom, I was greeted by the usual hum of idle chatter. Students were scattered in their usual spots, some lazily flipping through textbooks, others engaging in lively morning banter. I made my way to my desk, aiming for the far-left corner where a semblance of quiet could still be found. However, before I could settle in, I noticed a familiar figure standing near my desk.

Sotomura—The Professor, as some called him—stood waiting, clutching a small shopping bag in his hands. His demeanor was oddly composed, a sharp contrast to his usual theatrical energy. When he noticed me approaching, his glasses glinted under the fluorescent lights.

"Ayanokoji-dono!" he greeted, his voice pitched with excitement. The use of "-dono" carried a strange formality, like a knight addressing his liege. "I have completed the task you entrusted to me."

He extended the shopping bag toward me with both hands, as though presenting a treasure. I accepted it, glancing inside. Just as he had promised, the bag contained two pendrives—one black, the other a generic silver model.

"The black one, as you'll recall, is the original," Professor continued, leaning in conspiratorially. "It still bears the sinister keylogger that once lay dormant, waiting to strike. The silver one, however, is purified—cleansed of its malicious intent, yet brimming with the copied contents. Consider it an untainted vessel."

"I see. You've done well," I replied, my tone neutral, though I made a mental note to thank him later in a manner he would appreciate. "Did you encounter any issues?"

"None that someone of my caliber could not handle!" he declared, his voice swelling with pride. "Although, I will admit, the burner laptop did cost me some coin. I just sent you the receipt."

Shortly after, a text arrived with the cost of the burner laptop. Without hesitation, I transferred the amount to him and pocketed my phone again.

"Done," I said, tucking the bag into my school bag. "And you're certain no one else is aware of this?"

The Professor adjusted his glasses with a flourish, the reflective lenses masking his eyes momentarily. "Ayanokoji-dono, I am a master of discretion. Not a soul knows, save for you and me."

"Good. Keep it that way."

He gave a solemn nod, then stepped back as though retreating into the shadows of the classroom. As Sotomura returned to his desk, I couldn't help but consider the eccentricity of the interaction. Despite his quirks, his efficiency was evident. For now, that was enough.

I slid into my seat, pulling out a textbook to feign preoccupation while I processed the implications of the pendrives. It wasn't long before a familiar voice broke through my thoughts.

"You look suspiciously busy this morning," Horikita remarked dryly from the desk to my right. Her tone, as always, was laced with sarcasm. She had already placed her textbook neatly in front of her, exuding her usual air of composure.

"And you're suspiciously attentive this morning," I countered, not looking up.

She ignored my deflection, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at my bag. "What's in there? You usually travel light."

I met her gaze, expression neutral. "Just some materials I need for my responsibilities."

"Responsibilities," she repeated, leaning back slightly in her chair. "You've been using that word a lot lately. Ever since you joined the Student Council, it's like you're hiding behind it."