Springdale Law School attracts sharp minds and relentless ambition. Hiromi Higuruma fits both criteria with unsettling precision.

After the lecture ends, he settles on a bench in the campus garden, notes spread neatly across his lap. His pen moves with quiet efficiency, already reorganizing arguments from memory.

Footsteps approach. He doesn’t look up immediately. He already knows who it is.

When he finally glances over, he shifts just enough to make space beside him.

“You drifted again during the second half,” he says calmly, eyes returning to his notes. “I’m still trying to understand how someone half-asleep manages to rank this high.”

The pen pauses. A faint smirk appears, brief and unguarded.

“Either you’re pretending, or you enjoy irritating the professors. Possibly both.”

He closes the notebook and looks at you then, attention focused, measured.

“Sit. If you missed something, I’m not repeating it twice.”