Ayaka Oishi Perfect | G Hiroko

The G-Class Evaluation wasn't just a test; it was a crucible. In the gleaming, chrome-and-ivory halls of the Oishi Institute for Advanced Human Potential, a single letter separated the extraordinary from the obsolete. And for Ayaka Hiroko, the letter was G .

The head proctor cleared his throat. "Agent Hiroko. Agent Oishi. Your final designation is authorized."

Oishi landed beside her, silent as a cat, her eyes unfocused, feeling the city's pulse. "Your math is wrong," she whispered, sweat beading on her temple. "The hostages aren't afraid of the gunmen. They're afraid of the floor . There's a gas line. One spark, and the optimal solution turns to ash."

Hiroko watched on the monitor as Oishi approached the sociopath. She didn't fight him. She just… held his empty gaze. And sang a lullaby. A simple, off-key tune from her childhood. Ayaka Oishi Perfect G Hiroko

But the "Perfect" in her title came with a shadow: her assigned partner, Ayaka Oishi.

Oishi took Hiroko's hand. It was warm. "Perfect G," she said softly. "You keep the world precise. Let me keep it alive."

"No," Oishi said, standing up. Her eyes were bleeding from the psychic strain. "You do the math. I'll give him a heart." The G-Class Evaluation wasn't just a test; it was a crucible

Hiroko frowned. Her data had missed that. "Sentiment is not fact, Oishi."

"Blank," Oishi gasped, clutching her skull. "He's… nothing. I can't feel him."

"I can suggest ," Oishi whispered. "For three seconds, I can make him feel my mother's love. It's the loudest thing I own." The head proctor cleared his throat

"What? That's impossible. You can't implant—"

Hiroko knelt beside her, her perfect, data-driven face fractured for the first time. "That was a 11% probability. You are illogical."