The dormitory ceiling had a crack in it—one Kyoko had memorized by now after three weeks of staring at it upside down from her bed, legs dangling over the headboard. A half-eaten bag of shrimp chips rustled as she dug her hand in blindly, crumbs scattering across her uniform blazer, which she’d tossed on the floor hours ago.

"Ugh, this is so boring," she announced to no one, tossing a chip at the wall. It stuck. "Ten points."