"Tomomi, oh Tomomi, what are we ever going to do with you?"

Mr. Yamada paces around his office, hands clasped behind his back. He looks like a big, agitated teddy bear.

I muster a suitably ashamed face, though in all honesty I don't feel that guilty. It's not like I didn't try; I did. I did everything the teachers had ever instructed me to. Concentrate, focus, imagine my weapon in detail, and believe, believe with all my heart that I can do it. It's not like it's real life, they always say. You're in someone's mind. Things work differently in the mind. So as long as you believe you can, you can do anything.

This is the premise our academy runs on. I've learned all about it in the History of Mindhackers class (now that one I aced). The founding fathers of our school developed a device that, when connected, enables us to enter someone's brain, so to speak. They were ecstatic, those forefathers; they thought it would make them rich.

But then they realized that it wasn't as easy as they think. For one thing, they need to hook the machine onto the target first, so it's not like they can just randomly mindhack some passerby on the street. For another, to successfully "mindhack" (which, in our definition, means to retrieve crucial information from the target's brain, such as safe passcodes for a more mundane example), they have to know where to look. The problem is that important info doesn't just lie around in obvious places. It is usually tucked away, hidden deep, so it takes the mindhackers way more time than they would prefer to navigate through all the obstacles to find it.

In a way, I think, we're more like explorers. Or fighters, maybe, because people's minds can be really dangerous places.

I'm not even kidding. Our teachers love telling us one story about that time they got trapped in a literal volcano when on a mindhacking mission. One of the team got buried alive by lava. He is now still in a coma, with all those wires and tubes on him, lying motionless on the top floor of the main research building. We've all seen him-it's kind of like a tourist attraction for new students. The teachers will bring us to the room to stare at the unfortunate soul and lecture them on how important it is to stay safe on a mindhacking mission.

They say it like the poor dude had brought it upon himself by being stupid and not staying safe. If you ask me I don't think he could have done much considering how he was dropped into freaking lava, but then who am I to judge?

This is why our forefathers, the history teacher has lovingly explained, later developed precautionary measures. Before hacking into anyone's head, they studied them first, closely but in secret, so that they could have a better idea of how the target's mind works. They did little social experiments-drop a wallet accidentally on purpose in the target's sight, see if they're nice enough to pick it up and return it. Cut in front of the target in a queue and see if they cuss. That sort of thing. And then the specialists in our school gave their verdict: target A is a plain old boring citizen with no imagination whatsoever, conclusion: safe to hack. Target B is unpredictable and has mood swings, conclusion: must bring protective gear before hacking. Target C is a raging lunatic, conclusion: leave alone.

This ended up not working quite as fine as they presumed. It turned out that perfectly nice-looking people could (gasp) have incredibly twisted minds, while the minds of gangsters could very well be peaceful countryside landscapes with cute sheep and rabbits. They need another, safer way to counter the hazards often found in people's heads so that they can mindhack without worrying about going into comas.

That's where we come in.

We the students at our mindhacker's academy, Yamabe Gakuen, are trained not only to enter people's minds, find the information we want, but also to fight off all the possible enemies we run into and withstand natural disasters like erupting volcanoes.

That's why we all have a weapon. Well, at least all my classmates have a weapon. I haven't found mine yet.

"You've got potential, so much potential," Mr. Yamada mutters, frustrated, still pacing around the room (which also happens to be the principal's room because Mr. Yamada is the principal). "Your scores in the entrance test are nearly perfect, which means that mindhacking should suit you down to the core, and yet-it's been almost one year and you still can't find a weapon!"

"I'm... uh, very sorry?" I say.

"If this continues, we will have to employ other measures, I'm afraid," Mr. Yamada continues, sorrowfully.

I sit straight up in my chair in shock and horror. "What? You're going to expel me?"

"No, no, no, no! Nothing of the sort! You're doing just fine in your other subjects, it's just that the mindhacking part, which is unfortunately our main focus in this school, is a bit lacking I should say," Mr. Yamada clarifies hastily. "What I meant was, as of now you're more of a hinderance than of help to your classmates in missions. If this doesn't improve by the end of the school year, we might have to ask you to consider a career change-"

"So you are going to expel me, good to know," I finish for him.

"Damn it, Tomomi, I don't mean that-you know how much we value all of our students and we do wish that your stay with us could have been longer, but-"

"But I'm just too useless, yes?"

Mr. Yamada sighs. He stops pacing around and settles down in the comfy brown sofa opposite me. "You're not useless, my girl. You just need to believe. You still have one month to get it right. We'll do our best to coach you, trust me. You'll get it."

"And if I don't, you kick me out," I conclude.

Mr. Yamada coughs awkwardly. "Well, yeah, I guess you can say that."

"Nice," I reply.

-

I head to my next class, English, feeling really bad. Not because of my imminent expulsion, but because I had been a bit rude to Mr. Yamada. Yamada is a darling old brick who doesn't mean any harm and I probably shouldn't have snapped at him for simply doing his job. I bet he already feels guilty enough about kicking me out as it is, but to be realistic, who would want a useless student like me, who basically stands there doing nothing but blocking the way when her whole class is fighting someone's inner demons?

Yup, I wouldn't want me either.

I decide to write an apology email to Mr. Yamada later after class. I'll even tack on cute emojis so that he will know I'm sincere. Me being no good at mindhacking isn't Mr. Yamada's fault and I want him to know that.

My best friend in class, Izumi, turns to me as I plop down on the hard wooden seat beside her. "How'd it go?" she whispers. She knows that I got called into the principal's room after our mission. In fact everyone knows; this is a small school, word travels fast.

I scribble down "bad, tell u later" on the edge of a notebook page and shove it towards Izumi, who lifts an eyebrow. Wouldn't want to be caught talking in class; it would only guarantee that I get expelled faster.

The English teacher is called Miss Charles. She's in her forties, plump and amiable, with brown hair and brown eyes. She doesn't speak our language and is the only one in our school who's not involved with mindhacking stuff. We don't think she even has any idea what is going on with this school-she probably believes we're one of those normal, strict Japanese high schools that just also happens to be a boarding school and looks posh. The thought that her students might in fact be connected to machines and walking around in people's minds outside of English class most likely never occurred to her.

As she drones on about the usages of colons and semicolons, I catch quiet but steady pencil tapping coming from the front right corner of the classroom, and grin. It is so subtle that you could barely hear it unless you pay really close attention, but I can decipher it easily without problem.

It is Shun, my classmate who I've known since we were in second grade back in Fukuoka, our hometown. We're the only two in this school from there; most of our classmates are Tokyo kids, except maybe Natsumi who's from Saitama, but that's not far from Tokyo either.

Our elementary school was a tiny one, and most of my class were pretty cool with each other. Our teachers were insanely strict, but we always had our own ideas of fun-sneaking in our own class pet (a rabbit), discreet water fights when the teachers made us scrub floors, having contests on who could eat the fastest during lunch.

Not very interesting things, I know, but in a school system that's super studying-oriented and full of rigid rules, it was the best we could do to entertain each other.

The pencil tapping was one of our ideas of fun. Everyone had the code memorized, one tiny tap stood for A, two quick successive taps stood for B, one long, one short, one long for C. We had our very own system. We used it during tests, too. But we were surprisingly honest students-we didn't use it to cheat, just to hold conversations. Oh god the sixteenth question is so hard. I know right lol just kidding I know the right answer but I'm not telling u. Omg second part question ten is so weird let's take bets whoever thinks the answer is B tap once please!

Here at Mindhackers Academy, Shun and I still use this system. It's kind of funny, we aren't even good friends or anything; just normal classmates who talk to each other if the occasion requires it. But after being in the same class for so long there's just naturally going to be a comradie that never goes away.

The taps continue, soft and gentle. How was it?

I tap back. One month to work on it, if still can't get it right then get expelled.

I have barely finished tapping the last letter before Shun turns around to look at me, eyes wide, mouthing "what?"

I nod and shrug, feeling tears suddenly form in my eyes. Shun is a nice guy and I always feel all sentimental and teary when people are nice to me. Which is kind of inconvenient, because people are nice to me most of the time. It's probably because I have constantly knotted eyebrows and a mouth that droops down at the sides when I'm not smiling. My face makes me look sad, so people like to cheer me up.

I urge myself not to cry, and this works much better than telling myself to raise a goddamn shield. I manage to not tear up, not right here in class, but my heart grows heavier as the realization that I'm going to be expelled has finally settled in.

I guess it can't be that bad, going back to a normal high school. I'll fit in anyway; my grades aren't top-notch but I've always done decently in most subjects. It's not like I won't be able to find a job if I don't become a mindhacker.

But I'll miss my life here. I've been in this academy almost one year now, and it has begun to feel like home. I'll miss Izumi. I'll miss my roommates-well, most of them at least. And I'll most definitely miss Shun; to be honest I have already forgotten what it's like to not be in a class with him, because in all my school life he has always been right there, somewhere in the classroom, not always in a seat close to mine but at least he exists.

Shun might not have an extraordinarily handsome face or anything (in fact he looks just average, his nose is too big and his chin is too prominent), but his face is something familiar and friendly and reminds me of home. He has black hair and dark brown eyes. I also have black hair and dark brown eyes. Isn't it a cool coincidence? Having the same color hair and eyes as your crush. No duh we're all Japanese here of course we have black hair and dark brown eyes. Except for Ririka who dyed her hair a cute caramel color but still.

Oops, did I say crush?

Oh, I did. Well yeah, there's also the thing that I've had a crush on Shun since third grade I think, and knowing that he had signed up for the entrance exam for this school was actually the only reason I signed up too and ended up here. I didn't even know that the school was about, uh, hacking minds. I thought it was just a boarding school with scholarship and a fancy name. Most people think the same too, and we like to keep it that way.

I feel kind of pathetic as the rest of the English lesson slowly drifts by and Miss Charles enlightens us on the usage of various punctuation marks.