For once, Mao didn't care who noticed. He wasn't after attention anymore.
But he still cared about the rankings.
Deeply.
Not for the applause. Not even to prove people wrong. This time, it was about something more personal—about knowing he still had it in him. That he hadn't faded into nothing.
One afternoon, as the new friend group wrapped up their study session in the library, Kenji lingered behind while the others packed up.
"You ever think about going for number one?" he asked, eyes still fixed on his notes.
Mao looked up, surprised. "I used to. Then... things got in the way."
Kenji gave a dry laugh. "Ren?"
Mao didn't answer, but the silence said enough.
Kenji glanced sideways at him. "You're smarter than Ren in some ways. He's more polished, sure. But your brain's... sharp. Surgical."
Mao raised an eyebrow. "You think I can beat him?"
Kenji smirked. "I know we can."
Mao frowned. "We?"
Kenji closed his notebook. "Let's make a deal. You want number one. I want to prove my methods work. So we pair up. Study. Compete. Push each other to the edge."
"Is this... your way of asking to be friends?"
Kenji laughed. "No. It's my way of winning."
Mao stared at him. The old him would've refused—too proud, too solitary. But the new him understood something:
Winning alone wasn't always winning.
"Fine," he said. "Let's get to work."
From that moment on, the pact was made.
They built a plan: split subjects based on strengths, challenge each other weekly, hold mock tests, rotate problem sets, and deconstruct previous exams.
They didn't talk about revenge. Or Ren. Or reputation.
They talked about process.
Every day after school, while other students headed to clubs or hung out in the courtyard, Mao and Kenji buried themselves in books, past papers, and theories. They tested each other relentlessly. Debated fiercely. Corrected each other without ego.
One night, Kenji glanced up from their table at the convenience store.
"You know... it doesn't matter if only one of us gets number one."
Mao paused. "You saying we both can?"
Kenji shook his head. "I'm saying if either of us does—it's a win for both."
Mao didn't reply. But he understood.
And for the first time, number one didn't feel like a desperate grasp.
It felt like a quiet, unstoppable rise.