Morning sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains.

Horikita stood in front of the sink.

She stared intently at her own reflection in the mirror.

The face of a fifteen-year-old.

The line of her cheeks was slightly rounder than it would be later and the fatigue of three years had not yet carved itself around her eyes. Her hair reached her waist and was slightly messy from sleep.

A familiar face.

Yet a face she had not seen in three years.

Horikita slowly raised her right hand.

The girl in the mirror raised her right hand as well.

She touched her cheek.

Soft.

The feeling of young skin.

“…So I really did come back.”

She spoke the words aloud to confirm it.

Her voice was slightly higher as well.

A little younger than the voice she had at eighteen.

Yet three years of memories remained in her mind.

Her days in Class D, the many special exams, her relationships with her classmates and—Ayanokoji.

She remembered everything clearly.

Her body was fifteen.

Her mind was eighteen.

The gap made Horikita feel slightly dizzy.

She took a deep breath.

She washed her face with cold water.

Looking at the reflection in the mirror she murmured as if speaking to herself.

“Calm down Suzune.”

She did not know what kind of phenomenon this was.

A time leap?

A parallel world?

Or perhaps something like the visions people see just before death?

There was no scientific explanation.

But one fact remained certain.

She had returned three years into the past.

That alone was undeniable reality.

Horikita gripped the edge of the sink with both hands.

She looked back on the previous three years.

What had gone wrong.

Where had she failed?

First.

She had not understood why she had been assigned to Class D.

At the beginning she believed her placement in Class D must have been a mistake.

With her abilities she should have belonged in Class A.

But that had been an arrogant delusion.

Advanced Nurturing High School did not evaluate students based only on academics or physical ability.

Cooperation.

Social ability.

Personality.

Invisible qualities like these were also part of the evaluation.

She had been placed in Class D because the school judged that she had problems.

Her tendency to look down on others.

Her lack of cooperation.

Her poor communication skills.

Those flaws truly existed in her at the time.

Second.

She realized Ayanokoji’s true nature far too late.

From the moment they enrolled he had been pretending to be an ordinary student.

Average grades.

Average physical ability.

Little presence.

Just a quiet boy reading books in the corner of the classroom.

Horikita had failed to see through that act for a long time.

She only realized he had been moving behind the scenes in the latter half of their first year.

And even then it happened by chance.

If she had realized earlier.

If she had formed a partnership earlier—

The outcome might have been different.

Third.

She had been too obsessed with her brother.

Manabu Horikita.

Student Council President.

The peak of Class A.

A perfect brother.

She had always chased after his back.

She wanted him to acknowledge her.

She wanted to stand where he stood.

She wanted him to say that she was also capable.

That obsession had narrowed her perspective.

She thought about her brother more than her classmates.

Her reason for aiming for Class A had not been genuine ambition but rivalry with her brother.

With that mindset she could never truly lead a class.

Fourth.

She had only seen her classmates as pieces on a board.

At the start she judged others only by whether they were useful or useless.

Sudo was a problem child.

Ike and Yamauchi were burdens.

Sakura lacked presence.

She measured people like that.

But after spending three years together she learned something.

They had their own strengths.

Their own growth.

Their own brilliance.

By refusing to see that she had failed as a leader.

Horikita looked into the mirror again.

“This time will be different.”

She said it aloud like a vow.

“I will change everything.”

The girl in the mirror spoke the same words.

A fifteen-year-old face holding the resolve of an eighteen-year-old.

Horikita prepared to begin her second high school life.

She slipped her arms into her uniform.

It felt like the first time in three years.

Yet her body remembered.

She adjusted the length of her skirt, tied the ribbon and brushed her hair.

A final check in the mirror.

“…Good.”

It was not perfect.

But it was acceptable.

As she was about to leave the room she suddenly stopped.

A notebook sat on top of her desk.

A brand-new unused notebook.

After thinking for a moment Horikita placed it in her bag.

She would record everything that happened from now on.

The differences from last time.

The changes.

The growth.

Proof that she was truly starting over.

As she put on her shoes at the entrance a voice called from behind.

“Suzune.”

She turned.

Her mother stood there wearing an apron with a damp cloth in her hand.

“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?”

“…No today—”

“It’s your entrance ceremony right? Eat properly before you go.”

Her mother’s voice was gentle yet firm.

The quiet strength characteristic of the women of the Horikita family.

Horikita hesitated briefly and nodded.

“…Alright.”

Last time she had refused breakfast and left.

She had no appetite because of tension and anxiety.

But this time would be different.

She would eat the breakfast her mother made before leaving.

That too was a small change.

On the table were toast, fried eggs, salad and orange juice.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Yes, go ahead.”

Her mother sat across from her sipping coffee while watching her.

“Are you nervous?”

“…A little.”

It was a lie.

She was not nervous.

She already knew everything that would happen.

But she could not say that.

“You’ll be fine. You are a member of the Horikita family after all.”

Horikita nodded slightly.

A member of the Horikita family.

She understood the weight of those words far more now than before.

Her brother Manabu had always carried that weight.

Expected to be perfect.

Expected to meet every expectation.

She carried that same weight.

But she would not use it as an excuse.

“Thank you for the meal.”

When she tried to clear the dishes her mother stopped her.

“Just go already. You’ll be late.”

“…Thank you.”

“Take care.”

She stepped outside.

When she turned back her mother was waving.

Last time she had not turned around.

She had been too eager to leave.

This time she waved back slightly.

Her mother looked surprised for a moment and then smiled.

“Have a good day.”

“I’m leaving.”

She stepped outside.

The sky was clear.

A cool yet refreshing April morning.

Horikita inhaled deeply.

Everything would begin today.

As she walked toward the bus stop she organized her plan.

First she would build a relationship with Ayanokoji.

Last time she had only thought of him as a strange boy.

She had not tried to understand him or become close.

As a result she realized his true nature too late.

She had failed to make proper use of his abilities.

This time would be different.

She would approach him from the beginning.

She would try to understand him.

She would build a cooperative relationship.

But she needed to be careful.

Ayanokoji had sharp observation skills.

If she behaved unnaturally he would become suspicious immediately.

She must not show that she already knew anything about him.

She had to behave like someone simply curious about a new acquaintance.

Next was her relationship with her classmates.

Last time she avoided most of them from the beginning.

Even when spoken to she responded coldly.

She never joined groups and always chose to be alone.

That led to her isolation.

This time she would build relationships little by little.

She did not need to become close with everyone.

But she wanted to establish at least minimal trust.

Especially with Hirata and Karuizawa.

Those two would become the core of the class.

If she formed a good relationship with them early things would become easier later.

Then there was her brother.

Last time she grew tense every time she met him and desperately tried to gain his recognition.

That desperation only made things worse.

This time she would abandon her obsession with him.

Or perhaps not abandon it entirely.

But she would not show it.

Her brother was her brother.

She was herself.

They would walk separate paths.

Maintaining that distance was necessary.

* * *

The bus stop came into view.

Several students were already waiting.

Students wearing the Advanced Nurturing High School uniform.

They were probably freshmen like her.

She stood at the back of the line.

She looked around.

She must have seen this same scene last time.

But then she had been too nervous to observe anything.

Now when she looked again—

Everyone looked tense.