The week following the exam was a surreal limbo. The adrenaline of the blizzard had faded, leaving a hollow, restless exhaustion. Rika and Rentaro continued their shifts at the 7-Eleven, but the usual banter was replaced by a quiet, shared tension. Every time the door chimed, they both flinched, expecting a letter or a notification that would decide their lives.
Finally, the day arrived. The results were to be posted on the T-University portal at 10:00 AM.
Instead of checking at home or at school, they met on the rooftop of Sunrise Heights. The snow from the blizzard had melted into patches of grey slush, and a stubborn, early spring breeze whipped at Rika’s hair.
"My hands are sweating," Rentaro admitted, staring at his phone screen. "I’ve handled three-hundred-customer rushes without breaking a sweat, but looking at a loading bar is killing me."
"Logic dictates that the result is already determined," Rika said, though her voice was barely a whisper. "The data exists. We are simply observing the state of the wave function."
"Spoken like a true physicist," Rentaro teased weakly. "On three?"
"On three."
They both tapped their screens. The loading circle spun—once, twice—and then the pages snapped into view.
Rika’s breath hitched.
ID: S-1104. Status: ADMITTED. Scholarship: PRESIDENTIAL TIER.
She looked over at Rentaro’s screen. He was staring at it in total silence.
ID: H-0922. Status: ADMITTED. Scholarship: ENGINEERING ELITE TIER.
"We both... we both got the top spots," Rentaro whispered. "Rika, we’re staying in the city. No North Institute. No long-distance."
Rika felt a weight lift off her chest that she hadn't even realized she was carrying. The "Rank 1 Ghost" had been laid to rest. They hadn't just tied; they had conquered the system together.
But then, Rika did something Rentaro didn't expect. She swiped to a different tab on her browser.
"Rentaro," she said, her voice sounding lighter than he had ever heard it. "Look at this."
She showed him the portal for a local, mid-tier university—the one they had both mentioned as a 'backup' during the midnight shifts.
"I checked my status for the safety school this morning, too," Rika said. "And I noticed something in the 'Linked Applications' section. You applied there, too."
Rentaro rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Yeah. I figured... if the T-University thing went south for one of us, I wanted to have a place where we could still be together. I didn't care about the prestige anymore."
"I did the same thing," Rika admitted, a soft laugh escaping her. "The great 'Ice Queen' and the 'Ghost of 3-A,' both secretly sabotaging their own elite paths just to ensure they wouldn't be lonely."
Rentaro stepped closer, taking her phone and setting it down on the concrete ledge with his own. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into the warmth of his coat.
"We don't have to settle for the backup, Rika," he said, resting his forehead against hers. "We earned the top floor. But it’s good to know that even if the whole world collapsed, we’d have ended up in the same room anyway."
Rika leaned into him, looking out over the city. Below them, the 7-Eleven sign was humming in the distance, a small neon beacon in the sprawling urban maze.
"My father called ten minutes ago," Rika said quietly. "He saw the Presidential Scholarship. He tried to take credit for it. He said the 'Shinozaki legacy' is secure."
"What did you say?"
"I told him that the 'Shinozaki' part of me was retired. I told him I’d be moving into a student dorm with my own money, earned from 'unskilled labor,'" she smirked. "And then I hung up."
Rentaro laughed—a loud, genuine sound that echoed off the rooftop walls. "Welcome to the real world, Rika. It’s messy, the pay is terrible, and the hours are brutal."
"I know," she said, reaching up to touch the silver star necklace. "I can't wait to start the next shift."
As the sun began to climb higher, lighting up the horizon of their new lives, they stood together on the edge of the future. The exams were over, the "Pair" had won, and for the first time, the path ahead wasn't a calculation—it was an adventure.24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrnfO0Jeeft
and then Add to home screen.