Mao: The Quite One

It happened fast.

The academic results came out just two weeks before finals.

Kaito Tsukishima – Rank #1

Kenji – Rank #2

Mao – Rank #3

For the first time in two years, Mao had fallen.

There were no gasps. No public humiliation.

Only quiet shock… and something worse—sympathy.

---

Mao didn't break.

He didn't lash out.

But inside, something cracked.

All that pressure, all that silence, all those nights in the tea shop scribbling notes into exhaustion—it hadn't been enough.

And the worst part?

He didn't even feel angry anymore.

He felt… free.

---

Ren approached him that afternoon in the library.

"Rough, huh?" he said, slumping into the seat across from him.

Mao didn't respond at first.

Then: "You used to want to beat me more than anything."

Ren gave a lopsided grin. "Yeah. Until I realized… I never really wanted to be you."

Mao stared. Then laughed. Genuinely.

Ren joined in.

---

They talked that whole afternoon. Not as rivals.

Not as the cold genius and the fallen challenger.

But as two people who had been through the same fire.

---

A week later, the rankings shifted again.

Kenji surprised everyone by pushing past Kaito and stealing the top spot.

No drama. No speeches. Just raw effort.

It shook the school.

Three names. Three positions. One year.

No kings.

Only survivors.

---

By the end of the semester, Mao was still in the top ten.

Still respected.

Still seen as a pillar of the school's intellectual backbone.

But now… he wasn't alone.

He had friends.

He had quiet evenings.

He had peace.

As the final bell of the year rang, students rushed out in excitement.

Mao stood at the gate, watching them laugh and yell.

Ren nudged him. "So? What now?"

Mao exhaled. "We live."

---

The year had ended.

The throne had changed.

But for Mao, something more important had begun.

Balance.