Dazai was slumped over his desk, clearly asleep, a thin line of drool connecting his lips to the wood. Chuuya, seated two rows ahead, was furiously taking notes, his pen scratching with violent precision.

Kunikida sat ramrod straight in the front row, his Ideal notebook open, every equation copied in immaculate handwriting. Ranpo, next to him, had his detective hat pulled low over his eyes, snoring softly.

A soft knock.

The classroom went silent.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing a short girl with blonde and hot-pink hair, a face full of pimples, and a body squeezed into a skirt two sizes too small.

Kunikida's pen snapped.