Table of Contents
Copyrights and Credits
Table of Contents Page
Chapter 1: The End of the Everyday
Chapter 4: The Start of a One-Year Period
Chapter 5: A Bystander’s Vantage Point
Chapter 7: School Life in Class C
Chapter 8: Ayanokouji’s Defeat
Newsletter
Character Gallery
Chapter 1: The End of the Everyday
Chapter 1:
The End of the Everyday
I ARRIVED AT THE SCHOOL BUILDING a little earlier than usual, trying to suppress a faint feeling of elation. I made my way up the steps I still wasn’t used to climbing and arrived at the floor lined with third-year classrooms. My gaze fell upon my new classroom, which featured a plate with “Class 3-A” engraved on it. I stopped and stared intently, noting how beautifully polished it was.
“I’ve finally made it…” I remarked aloud.
Although the feeling hadn’t fully settled in yet, I knew very well that I wasn’t dreaming. I made it from Class 1-D to Class 3-A. Although there were plenty of fun and joyful times, there were also painful experiences that I couldn’t forget either. The road to this point had been anything but smooth.
Yamauchi-kun, Sakura-san, and Maezono-san. It was a road built on the sacrifices of those who had left the class. That much couldn’t be forgotten. When I thought back on it, I realized that I didn’t have any clear goals when I first came to this school—I simply wanted to follow in my brother’s footsteps. However, my brother kept his distance from me, as always, and he coldly cast me aside every day. Even so, in continuing my school days here, I was able to come to know my brother’s true feelings. I was taught that it wasn’t okay to deny my own potential to just continue chasing after my brother.
I’m now part of the student council, and I’m even giving the congratulatory address at the opening ceremony of the school term. I’m walking an unbelievable path. And I can’t forget that Ayanokouji-kun was a big part of making that path possible. If he hadn’t been in my class, I’m sure that I wouldn’t be where I am now. I would’ve been more immature, more petulant, and unable to get close to anyone. Sure, there were times when I was annoyed by his attitude, and times where I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but that’s all amusing to me now.
From that day onward, I made it my goal to graduate from Class A—not for my brother or for myself, but to share that joy with everyone in the class, including Ayanokouji-kun. That would be my ultimate goal for Class A, to reach a place that I could never have reached with my own strength alone.
I must not let myself get conceited.
Right now, the path to the top has only just been cleared. There was still one more year of school left. Ryuuen-kun’s class was right on our tail. Even though they were a little far away, Ichinose’s class and Sakayanagi’s former class couldn’t be made light of either. They would probably try to catch up and overtake us in the future, no matter the means. We, on the other hand, must fight to keep ahead of them and not let them catch up to us.
After taking a breath, I averted my gaze from the plate. That’s enough rejoicing for the time being. Let me get my mind back on track and renew my focus. As that thought went through my mind, I walked through the doorway to the classroom. Once inside, I noted that there was a large monitor instead of a blackboard, and our pre-assigned seating was displayed on it.
“Let’s see, my seat is…”
I was in the fourth seat from the front, in the second row from the hallway side. That was my seat for my first day in Class 3-A. And next to that seat was the fourth seat from the front, in the first row. Ayanokouji’s name was listed there.
“Can’t believe I’m sitting next to him again… Heh,” I chuckled.
Though our actual seating positions were quite different back then, we were seated next to one another two years ago as well. Even if there were a seating assignment change in the near future, it wasn’t like I hated coincidences like this. I sat down in my seat, feeling a little amused. Since it was still early in the day, Ayanokouji-kun hadn’t made an appearance yet. I wanted to hear his thoughts on this seating arrangement as soon as I could.
I gazed out the window opposite the door.
The view looked a little different from when we were first-years and second-years.
One more year.
Only one more year and this school life would come to an end.
When that time came, I wanted to graduate from Class A with this class, with these allies.
I wasn’t going to let this end as a dream.
I absolutely…needed to make this a reality.
Chapter 2: Chaos
Chapter 2:
Chaos
AFTER THE OPENING CEREMONY of the school term had concluded in the gymnasium, the brand-new third-year students returned to their classrooms. Then, a few minutes later, around the time that the chime announcing the beginning of second period would soon ring…
“This is unusual…” remarked Horikita.
Horikita cocked her head to the side in bewilderment as she looked down the hallway over and over again.
Sudou, who was seated diagonally behind her, called out to Horikita. “What’s up? Somethin’ on your mind?” he asked, sounding somewhat worried.
“I haven’t seen Ayanokouji-kun since the opening ceremony. And it’s almost time for second period to begin,” said Horikita.
Everyone was, as one would expect, present in the classroom, save for Ayanokouji. Even though there were no classes later in the day, now was the time when students needed to be present. If someone were late for no reason, school officials would most definitely scrutinize them over it. Horikita knew from past experience that no Class Points would be deducted for a single absence, but this was their first day in Class 3-A, the class they’d focused their energies on getting into. Unlike Sudou, Ike, and others who had a habit of being late in the past, Ayanokouji was someone who didn’t like to do anything that would make him stand out, so Horikita found his absence troubling.
“Huh, yeah, now that you mention it… He seemed pretty normal when we were leavin’ the gym though…” mumbled Sudou, looking diagonally upward, digging up memories that weren’t even thirty minutes old at this point.
“He did, didn’t he…” replied Horikita.
Like Horikita, Ayanokouji also came to the school building early that morning, and they’d had a short conversation with each other about how they were sitting beside each other. Horikita hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary at the time—everything seemed the same as usual.
“Maybe his stomach started hurtin’ and he’s holed up in the bathroom or somethin’?” asked Sudou.
“Well, it’s not like that’s inconceivable, I suppose,” said Horikita.
Although Horikita had some aversion to Sudou’s tactless statement, it was perfectly reasonable as a possibility. Even so, Sudou, seemingly still thinking that something wasn’t quite right about that idea, crossed his arms and nodded deeply once.
“Or he could be fakin’ sick,” speculated Sudou, a wry smile appearing on his face. There was some sort of pseudo-logic behind that unexpected statement.
“Faking sick? What makes you think that?” asked Horikita.
When Horikita asked him for his reasoning behind something so inconceivable, Sudou lowered the volume of his voice by about two notches, going down to a whisper.
“He and Karuizawa broke up recently, right? It’s probably pretty awkward for them to see each other,” said Sudou.
“But faking sick because of that…? Besides, he was fine this morning,” argued Horikita.
“Yeah, sure, but maybe he felt like he’d try comin’ to school, and then he unexpectedly got hit, like ‘Whoa,’ with a total body blow, y’know? ’Sides, uh, I too have, um, felt the pain of a broken heart,” said Sudou.
Sudou gazed into Horikita’s eyes, and then, looking somewhat embarrassed, averted his stare. Sudou had told Horikita how he felt about her last year during the school trip, so he was speculating based on his own experience. Horikita also pondered as to how Sudou must have felt back then. She remembered that he looked like he had felt somewhat awkward.
“So…that’s how it is, then?” said Horikita.
Sudou didn’t consider himself to be an expert in romance by any stretch. But even so, the reality that people could be divided into those who were rejected and those who did the rejecting was something you couldn’t refute. For Horikita, who still lacked knowledge and experience in love, this was an area she didn’t have confidence in commenting on. When a conflicted look appeared on Horikita’s face in response to this conversation, including the point Sudou just made, he scratched his head, flustered.
“W-well, anyway, I’m fine now. I’m jus’ sayin’ that maybe, y’know, Ayanokouji might unexpectedly have a sensitive side. I mean, when people from the same class go out with each other, it can be pretty hard after they split up. And, well, it looked like Karuizawa was actively avoiding Ayanokouji this morning too,” said Sudou.
Horikita also remembered that before spring vacation began, just before the end of the third term, the two of them were close in a way that only intimate lovers were allowed to be, a kind of intimacy that makes it difficult for third parties to approach. In the classroom this morning, however, the two of them had kept a distance between them every single step. Not only physically, but emotionally as well. Horikita adjusted her thoughts on the matter, noting that the fabric of human relationships may indeed become a little more complicated when romance was involved.
“I understand what you’re trying to say here, but they were both prepared for as much when they were dating, weren’t they?” argued Horikita.
Horikita had no intention whatsoever in sticking her nose in the business of relationships between guys and girls, but the fact of the matter was that it wasn’t like everyone could have an amicable breakup.
“They should have at least been aware of the risks,” muttered Horikita, quietly.
“Nah, that ain’t true. I mean, nobody starts datin’ someone plannin’ to break up someday. I heard from one of my kouhai buddies about how they went out with somebody and then broke up. After that, they couldn’t, like, figure out just how close they should be, and were havin’ a hell of a time with it,” argued Sudou.
Horikita stole a glance at Karuizawa, who was sitting at a desk near the back by the window, being careful not to draw attention to herself. Horikita noticed that Karuizawa seemed somewhat down as she gazed out the window.
“I would’ve liked them to have at least considered the risks, though…” said Horikita.
Horikita supposed that even if all of what Sudou said were true, it was a separate issue. Therefore, it wasn’t acceptable for Ayanokouji to be absent or late due to awkwardness.
“But…I suppose it’s not very likely, either way,” added Horikita.
Horikita concluded once again that Ayanokouji seemed normal, regardless of whether he had a stomachache or was in shock after being dumped. While she figured that Ayanokouji could have simply had his poker face on and was hiding it all very well, the idea that Ayanokouji would be shook by that kind of thing was practically impossible for her to believe.
“I mean, all I’m sayin’ is that it’s possible! Anyway, even if he does come by a little late, just cut him some slack, ’kay?” Sudou pleaded.
“If it’s just this one time, then sure. But if it happens multiple times, then, as a class, it’s not as though we can just leave things be. Very well, though. Whatever’s going on, we’ll know when the time comes,” said Horikita.
Whatever the truth might have been, in Horikita’s mind it wasn’t okay for Ayanokouji to just not show up at school without notice or permission.
2.1
THE SOUND OF THE CHIME eventually came. The first thing that Horikita saw was the off-putting visage of her homeroom teacher, Chabashira, looking flustered. The oddness of Chabashira’s demeanor caused those around her to become concerned. Her eyes were clearly darting around, and her face immediately went pale after she scanned the entire classroom. For a few seconds, she didn’t utter a word but simply stood in front of the podium and looked around the entire classroom.
No, actually, while she seemed to be looking around, she didn’t seem to really be searching for anything. There was no vitality in her eyes; they were somewhat vacant. Even if one of the students in this class were unusually slow on the uptake, they would have likely gotten the same impression. Horikita had intended to ask her about Ayanokouji, who hadn’t yet returned, right away. Though she wanted that to be the first thing that would come out of her mouth, she decided that this wasn’t the time to suddenly interject with something. No matter what was going through in her own mind, her first priority should be to check on Chabashira’s condition.
“Sensei, are you all right?”
However, before Horikita could speak up, it was none other than Hirata who spoke up to check on Chabashira. But Chabashira didn’t respond; Hirata’s voice didn’t seem to reach her. The students, who had been watching their teacher relatively quietly, began to panic a little because of this abnormality.
“Um…Sensei?”
Kikuchi, who was seated in the front row in a spot very close to Chabashira, called out to her, somewhat fearfully. Chabashira didn’t respond to Kikuchi either; she didn’t even move a muscle. After some delay, Chabashira looked at Kikuchi, as though she had finally noticed she was being called. However, her gaze was immediately diverted, this time in Horikita’s direction. While Horikita felt Chabashira’s eyes on her, as if there was a deeper meaning behind the gaze, their eyes didn’t actually meet.
Chabashira only stared absentmindedly in Horikita’s direction. From the looks of it, Horikita judged that Hirata and the other students’ voices must not have reached her after all. If that’s the case, is she not feeling well? she wondered. Horikita hadn’t picked up on anything unusual before, from what she saw up until heading to the opening ceremony, but she figured that she couldn’t leave things be any longer. There was also the possibility that Chabashira had suddenly come down with some illness that required urgent attention. Horikita was about to pull out her chair, get up, and go over to the podium, when her teacher finally responded.
“I’m…fine,” Chabashira muttered in response, albeit lacking in vigor. Had the students’ voices reached Chabashira at some point earlier? Or had they only just sunk in now?
While Hirata was relieved to have gotten a reply, he spoke up once more to confirm, saying, “You say so, but you clearly look like you are not feeling well.”
“Well, I… No. Really, I feel fine. It’s just that…” stammered Chabashira.
Chabashira placed her hands on the podium as she tried to continue. She looked in Horikita’s direction once more, but her gaze wasn’t fixed directly on her. Rather, her eyes were focused on the only empty seat in the room: Ayanokouji’s, the one next to Horikita.
“Did something happen to Ayanokouji-kun?” asked Horikita.
If it turned out to be that Ayanokouji suffered a severe injury or came down with some kind of illness while on his way back from the gymnasium, that would explain this change in Chabashira’s behavior as well. Did something happen? It would mean that such speculation was at least somewhat correct. Horikita’s question must have surely gotten through to her teacher. Even so, the fact that Horikita was met with silence from Chabashira allowed her to surmise the seriousness of the situation.
“Is he injured? Or sick?” asked Horikita.
When Horikita impatiently pressed for details, Chabashira shook her head slightly from side to side. Apparently, that wasn’t the case. If he wasn’t injured or sick, then that meant this wasn’t an emergency for the time being, anyway. However, if he was fine, then Horikita wondered why Chabashira’s face was so grim.
“Hey, come on, what happened? What’s up with Ayanokouji? Please, tell us!” exclaimed Ike.
While Ike had been able to read the room, he butted in to ask Chabashira to hurry up and come out with it already, as he was growing tired of waiting for a clear explanation. Chabashira looked at Ike briefly before turning her gaze to the class as a whole. As expected, they had tense expressions, showing not a hint of relief.
“Honestly…” she began.
Chabashira kept her mouth slightly ajar. Right when the students thought that she must finally be able to speak, she then closed her eyes and clamped her mouth shut once more. However, she couldn’t keep silent forever, and she looked up before continuing.
“There is something that I need to tell all of you. This morning—or rather, just a few moments ago, a student used Private Points to exercise a certain privilege…apparently,” said Chabashira.
Though she was not making herself quite clear, she was telling them the truth.
“Okay? I don’t really understand what that’s supposed to mean. What did this person do with their Private Points?” replied Ike.
A student.
Used Private Points to exercise a “certain privilege.”
Even though Chabashira gave them an explanation, the students were baffled by the lack of clarity on those points. Was this a troubling situation caused by another class and something that she couldn’t provide students with details about? Speculation continued to spread in the minds of the students.
“It’s about Ayanokouji, who isn’t here in this classroom right now… He is the one who exercised that certain privilege,” said Chabashira.
Though Chabashira spoke in a serious tone, as if it were of grave importance, the students cocked their heads in confusion because she was leaving out the most important part: Exactly what privilege did Ayanokouji exercise?
Just as the students were about to press her for answers, Chabashira managed to mutter that last, vital detail.
“That privilege was…a class…transfer.”
Ayanokouji had transferred classes.
Chabashira had certainly said that he transferred classes, but the students couldn’t believe that was possible. After all, if Ayanokouji transferred from Class A, that would inevitably mean he’d transferred into a lower class. And besides, there were barriers to even get to that point.
“Um, excuse me, Chabashira-sensei? That’s not a very funny joke. Could you please put yourself in our shoes, as the ones who are listening to you seriously?” asked Horikita.
If anyone could simply transfer classes as they pleased, no one would be struggling. In order for a student to transfer to another class, they must prepare twenty million Private Points. That was a well-known fact. And it was unrealistic. Which was precisely why some students interpreted what Chabashira said to have been a joke.
“I agree with Horikita-san. More importantly, are you really all right, Sensei?” asked Hirata.
Not only was there no possibility of truth in her words, but Chabashira also continued to make statements that seemed close to contradictory. It really seemed to the students that she must not be feeling well after all, or perhaps…
“Like, is this the start of some kind of special exam or something?” asked Sudou.
At about the exact same time as Horikita, Sudou crossed his arms and calmly offered his thoughts. Yes, that’s right, an exam to decipher something from Chabashira’s behavior and statements has begun. Something bizarre like that was more realistic to the students than the information presented.
“I understand full well that what I’m telling you is incomprehensible. However…it’s true,” said Chabashira.
“Okay, but even if you say it’s true, that’s—” began Horikita.
“If you want proof, you can take out your phones and look up the class OAA,” replied Chabashira, cutting her off.
Chabashira, remaining steadfast in her words, gave those instructions with her eyes downcast.
“Okay,” muttered Horikita. “I still think this is some kind of practical joke, but…”
However, a flash of doubt crossed Horikita’s mind. Just then, she began to feel a faint sense of foreboding. While many of her classmates also didn’t seem to believe what Chabashira was saying either, they opened their phones as instructed and called up the list for Class 3-A. Of course, the OAA values for all thirty-seven students in the class should have been listed there. No, actually, if they weren’t there, it would just be another lie.
However…
Horikita, thinking that she must have missed something, scrolled her screen up and down several times. And yet, no matter where she looked, Ayanokouji’s name was nowhere to be found. It had been deleted from the list, as though he had never been in this class to begin with. That was the update she found in OAA. She recalled seeing something like this several times before, like when Katsuragi Kouhei transferred classes or when students got expelled.
“Ayanokouji’s data, which was updated just a few moments ago…indicates that he has transferred,” said Chabashira.
“Wh-what are you… What are you talking about, Sensei? There’s no way…no way that could be true, could it?” stammered Horikita, her voice unwillingly trembling.
“It has been decided that, as of today, Ayanokouji…will be transferred from this class to Class C,” explained Chabashira, revealing the most significant piece of information, which had been left vague until now. The reason that Ayanokouji hadn’t been in the classroom since after the opening ceremony was because he had left the class.
“Huh?”
Although Horikita certainly understood the meaning of Chabashira’s words in her mind, immediately after hearing it, her body trembled in disbelief.
“What are you saying…? Why would Ayanokouji transfer to Class C…?” she sputtered.
“Okay, what’s going on here? This isn’t a funny prank, Sensei. It’s not April Fool’s today, y’know,” added Sudou.
Many students still weren’t even partially convinced that it was true. They still assumed that this was all a lie.
“I agree… I don’t like these kinds of jokes,” said Horikita.
Thump, thump, thump.
“I think that something is wrong with Chabashira-sensei today after all.”
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.
Please stop, Horikita silently begged.
Why is my heart beating so fast and throbbing so loudly?
I understand what she’s saying, but I don’t want to.
Chabashira’s awful joke is agitating my heart.
“I share your feelings of incredulity here. But this is the undeniable truth,” Chabashira stated.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.
“It can’t be. There must be some mistake,” argued Horikita as she navigated her way to the OAA list for Class 3-C. If it was true that he transferred, then it would be strange if Ayanokouji’s name didn’t appear on that list.
There’s no way it’s true, though. With that thought in her mind, Horikita loaded Class 3-C’s OAA list. The name Ayanokouji Kiyotaka was right there, added to the list. As soon as she saw that, her train of thought immediately stopped, her befuddlement overtaking her.
“I-it’s a lie, right, Sensei? I mean, the idea that Ayanokouji-kun transferred to Class C, i-it’s…” stammered Matsushita.
Some students in the room couldn’t hide their surprise over Matsushita’s clearly panicked, shrill, and out-of-character response.
“It’s…the truth. There is no mistake. No mistake at all,” Chabashira plainly stated.
Chabashira repeatedly directed her gaze down at her tablet. If this were true, then it wouldn’t have been surprising if she had received a notification from the school on it. Everyone wanted to resist the reality of the situation.
Horikita’s mind hadn’t wrapped itself around the fact that Ayanokouji had transferred classes. Such a development as this was incomprehensible to her, no matter how many times she mulled it over. Something like this just wasn’t possible.
Horikita and her fellow classmates had finally, after great pains, scraped and clawed their way out of Class D. It had taken them a great deal time to climb up the rankings, but finally, they’d made it to Class A. Over the next year, all of them would be working together to defend their position. And yet, despite all that, Ayanokouji had chosen to transfer to Class C. There was no benefit for him in doing such a thing.
“B-but what about the Private Points? Twenty million is a lot, so, no matter how much he had, he—” began Matsushita.
“I don’t know the details as of now. But it is a certainty that he’s managed to prepare the necessary amount, as the school has officially approved it,” said Chabashira.
“O-okay? But, if that’s true, then Ayanokouji… Wait, hold on. Why, though?” sputtered Ike.
“Yeah, man, I don’t get what this is supposed to mean at all. Like, we finally made it to Class A, right? And then he deliberately goes and transfers to Class C, when they’re on the decline, on our first day as Class A. That’s the class that Sakayanagi left, right?” said Sudou.
“What is that guy Ayanokouji trying to even do…? I seriously have no clue. Did you hear anything about this beforehand, Akito?” asked Ike.
“No, not a word… Actually, we’ve been a little distant from each other lately. If Horikita and you guys don’t know anything about this, then probably nobody knows, right?” said Akito.
It became clear that even Yukimura and Miyake, members of the friend group that was close to Ayanokouji, also hadn’t heard anything about this transfer.
“Wait, hold on, maybe it’s, y’know, that? Maybe he was so embarrassed that he got dumped by Karuizawa and he couldn’t be in this class anymore?” said Sudou.
“No, there’s no way. Besides, even if he were embarrassed, he wouldn’t have had the funds to transfer,” argued Ike.
“Does that mean he asked someone to lend him the points or something…? No, there’s no way,” asked Hondou.
“Are you saying that he betrayed us?” asked Shinohara quietly.
“But wait though, he didn’t transfer to a class above us, he went to a class below us, right? I mean, that’s just not normal. Ridiculous even. And it’s not like he’s siding with the winner and getting in while the getting is good now that Sakayanagi is gone anyway. This isn’t like Katsuragi’s case, who lost his place in his class and basically got chased out, you know?” asked Hondou.
Shinohara’s doubt-filled murmuring was met with a similarly doubt-filled response from Hondou. This was something that the students couldn’t even imagine. Or at least, something only imagined by a handful of students here. Ayanokouji was a capable individual who could make a class see victory or defeat through his abilities alone.
It was also possible that Ayanokouji came up with this idea because he wanted to make things easier for himself. However, in this scenario, one could say that it would’ve been much easier if he stayed in this class and done nothing at all rather than transferring into Class C, which had sunk after Sakayanagi’s departure.
“I don’t know. The notion that he’d step down into a lower class of his own volition is strange for sure, but I think it’s possible that a Private-Point scheme could be in play. There were the funds for the transfer, of course, but if he could get some compensation for producing results for Class C over the next year, then—”
“That’s exactly what’s so weird ’bout all this though,” Ike cut in. “That’d basically mean he’s like a replacement for Sakayanagi. Or, if you had to put it another way, he’s like, a real big shot that people would want to headhunt even if they had to pay big money so that they can win and get to Class A, right? Why Ayanokouji, though? Well, yeah, sure, I guess he has been kinda standing out in a big way lately and producing results…”
Horikita gasped in response to this back-and-forth. Even if she didn’t know Ayanokouji’s intentions, she couldn’t discard the idea that the former Sakayanagi Class had made a move to acquire him. In fact, it could be said that would have been the best choice in order for them to turn things around at this point. That said, there was still the question as to whether Ayanokouji would’ve even accepted such a proposal.
“That’s conceivable,” said Kushida.
While everyone else was shaken and confused, Kushida muttered those words calmly.
“No, but—”
“Well, okay, let’s say that’s true… I still don’t get what the big fuss is about then? I mean, it’s not like Horikita or Hirata left,” said Ike.
“Kanji…Ayanokouji not bein’ here anymore ain’t just a small problem,” argued Sudou.
“Wouldn’t you say it is small though? I mean, it’s not that big an issue if Ayanokouji-kun’s not here any—” began Shinohara.
Kushida cast an exasperated glance toward them and interrupted Shinohara, saying, “Sorry, but Ayanokouji-kun is way, way more important than you think he is, Ike-kun, Shinohara-san.” Some students didn’t see his transfer as that much of an issue, but Kushida disagreed.
“You’re saying he’s important…?” asked Ike.
“I’m sure that he’s contributed to the class in many ways that we haven’t picked up on, and it’s just that none of it has come to light. Isn’t that right, Horikita-san?” said Kushida.
Despite the situation they were in, Kushida was calm and collected. Horikita nodded in response to the ball being passed to her.
“Yes… Even if we put Ayanokouji-kun’s intentions aside, there is absolutely no question that he would be the best person for Class C to recruit if they wanted to turn things around. Besides, if he really were a student that wouldn’t cause any problems for us even if he left, I’m sure Chabashira-sensei wouldn’t be acting like this right now,” said Horikita.
Rather than listening to what her students were saying, Chabashira had remained in a stupefied trance the entire time. Shinohara and Hondou looked over at Chabashira, still frozen in that state.
“Wait, for real? Is that true?” asked Hondou.
“Ayanokouji’s presence is significant, just as Horikita says. In all likelihood, had Ayanokouji not been in this class, we would not be here in Class A right now. Of course, he’s not the only reason we were able to make Class A, but…still, the hole left by his departure is even greater than I imagined… But why…?” sputtered Chabashira.
No one knew the answer, neither the teacher nor the students. If there were a student who knew everything in this situation, then it would be…
The eyes of not only Horikita but also many of the other students in the class naturally turned to Karuizawa, who hadn’t uttered even a single word.
Karuizawa, as his girlfriend, as the one who had spent more time by his side than anyone else, should…
The students likely had such thoughts running through their minds.
“Karuizawa-san, did he say anything?” asked Horikita.
“I dunno. I don’t know anything. It’s not like I’m hiding it. I really don’t know,” Karuizawa answered indifferently, without even looking at Horikita.
Horikita thought that the clouded expression on Karuizawa’s face was not only due to the fact that Ayanokouji had ended up transferring, but also because she felt like it was her fault, since she broke up with him. No, that doesn’t have anything to do with it, thought Horikita, tossing that thought out of her mind. If Ayanokouji really had transferred classes, then that alone wouldn’t have been enough of a reason.
“If this transfer were some kind of mistake, it’s possible that it can be undone, correct?” asked Horikita hopefully.
“If it were a fraudulent transfer, then it’s possible that it could be rescinded. However…if that were the case, the person or persons who committed the wrongdoing would receive a significant punishment, which means that the finger would likely be pointed at Ayanokouji as well,” said Chabashira.
An illicit transfer spearheaded by Ayanokouji. That was a possibility that the students in this class did not want to consider.
“But the likelihood of fraud is low. As long as the school has officially accepted the transfer, then…” said Chabashira, trailing off at the end.
“But…even so, we don’t know for sure, right? It’s possible that some kind of unforeseen reason may emerge later, like that he was threatened somehow,” argued Horikita.
If it wasn’t that, then Horikita couldn’t think of any other possible explanation. The idea that he would transfer to another class without any warning…was just inconceivable.
“Well…” began Chabashira.
“Horikita-san.” Hirata’s calm voice reached the distraught Horikita. “I think that we need to start accepting reality.”
“Reality…? What do you mean by that?” asked Horikita.
“It means exactly what it sounds like. Ayanokouji-kun transferred classes. That is an unshakeable fact. The school has already accepted it, and his absence here is proof,” said Hirata.
“But… You can’t say that’s proof. It could simply be that he fell ill. Or there could have been some kind of mistake, or…” argued Horikita.
While Horikita was at a loss for words, unable to argue against him, Hirata continued speaking in a matter-of-fact manner.
“As Sensei explained, Ayanokouji-kun’s transfer is also confirmed in OAA. No matter how much we don’t want to believe it, we have to start by accepting it for the time being.”
Upon hearing this, Kushida appeared somewhat interested. “You seem awfully calm, Hirata-kun. Whether it’s transfer or expulsion, you don’t appear terribly upset over the fact that one of the students from this class might be gone,” she said.
Up until this point, Hirata had been heartbroken every time a student was about to be removed from school. On top of that, he was more concerned about those students than anyone else, even after they officially left.
“Transfer and expulsion may seem similar, but they’re not the same thing at all,” Hirata countered. “And if it’s the student’s own decision to transfer, then even more so. In any case, there’s nothing we can do about it. Even if we make a fuss about it, it’s not like Ayanokouji-kun will be coming back.”
“That’s not true though, is it? Horikita-san hasn’t discarded the possibility of it being a mistake just yet. If that’s the case, the usual Hirata-kun would be standing by her in this scenario, or so I think,” said Kushida.
Some of the students in class appeared to be calm and composed, the most notable being Hirata. It was also out of character for him to remain quiet for an extended period and simply observe the class.
“What’re you trying to say here, Kushida?” asked Sudou.
Sudou pulled out his chair and stood up. He was holding on to his unjust suspicion that Kushida was still working to throw the class into chaos.
“I’m saying that we can’t come up with a plan of action, even if we discuss it during our homeroom time, since we still don’t know what’s going on. Isn’t that right, Chabashira-sensei?” said Kushida.
Kushida craned her neck in an exaggerated manner and directed her gaze toward the hallway, which was beginning to fill with noise, perhaps because the other classes had already finished their respective homerooms.
“Yes…I suppose you’re right,” said Chabashira.
The classrooms were highly soundproofed, which meant that if someone were speaking at a normal volume, it wouldn’t be heard as far as the hallway outside. However, it was possible to pick up some voices if you were to get close to the wall or if you approached the door. A student with nefarious intentions might have been listening on from outside the room. Sudou nodded once, as if to show he was impressed with Kushida, and sat back down in his seat.
“I’m going to conclude homeroom here. I’d like to ask that none of you do anything that can be considered hounding Ayanokouji. As of now, he hasn’t done anything that has gone against the rules in any way,” said Chabashira.
Although Chabashira had numerous questions just like her students, as a schoolteacher, she needed to tell them to refrain from disruptive behavior. As an adult, she couldn’t forget the things that she ought to caution them about.
“I…agree with Chabashira-sensei. Not only from a rule perspective, but since we don’t know the circumstances here, having a large number of people go and press him is just a recipe for trouble. I will try checking with him first, and until I do, I would like to ask the rest of you to act calmly,” said Horikita.
“That’s exactly right. And that doesn’t just mean unnecessary contact with Ayanokouji either. Please do not quarrel with the other classes in any way, shape, or form. If anything happens, make sure to go through me or the school. Is that clear?” said Chabashira.
As a teacher, there was no point in her remaining silent with her students any longer, so Chabashira slammed her hands down strongly on her podium to regain her authority.
Chapter 3: Making Sure
Chapter 3:
Making Sure
SINCE CLASSES weren’t going to begin in earnest until tomorrow, our first day of the new school year ended at around eleven thirty in the morning. No, it might have been better to say that it ended before we even knew it.
All thanks to the completely outrageous story of Ayanokouji-kun’s transfer.
I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard it, and I still didn’t believe it, even now. It just wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible…
I kept repeating those same things over and over in my mind, like some kind of incantation.
But…
But…this was neither a misunderstanding nor a dream. It was really happening, in real time, as reality…
I wanted to see him.
I didn’t want to see him.
To be honest, it wasn’t like there was any part of me that was afraid of seeing him. No, that was actually a lie. I was terrified. I couldn’t help it. As conflicting thoughts continued to swirl around in my mind, I looked down at the palms of my hands. They were trembling.
My body was shaking just from imagining it. I gave up on thinking and tried to dispel my fears. But…but, even so…I needed to find out what Ayanokouji’s true intentions were. I couldn’t just give up. I still hadn’t heard what he was after from his own mouth, after all. It wouldn’t be too late for me to judge everything until after I got that confirmation. He might have been shouldering something that he couldn’t tell the rest of us about.
I need to make sure.
Relying only on that thought, I got up from my seat.
“Horikita-san.”
Perhaps he had been waiting for me to get up, because Hirata-kun approached me before I even realized it. Sudou-kun and some other students were also looking at me.
“I’m sorry, but can this wait until later? I’m going to go pay him a visit now,” I replied.
I didn’t have the time to let my imagination run wild because of pointless chitchat. I stepped out into the hallway with only my cell phone in hand, leaving my bag behind. A fair amount of time had passed since the end-of-the-school-day chime had rung. When I got into the hallway, I saw that many students had already begun to leave. I immediately sensed something unusual in the air from the way the other students were behaving.
I didn’t know whether there had been an announcement given to the students in the other classes or not, but at the very least, all of the students in our grade already knew that Ayanokouji-kun had transferred classes. The curious looks in my direction told me that. Of course, I’m sure there were probably a myriad of implications and guesses behind those stares.
They might have had theories that he was sent to another class as a spy. Or a theory had he had been banished from our class, or that he had been betrayed. Though it was all just groundless speculation, I’m sure that there might have been all kinds of ideas flitting about. But none of that mattered right now. That was because I didn’t even know what people in my own class, or Ayanokouji-kun himself, were thinking, let alone getting to whatever opinions other people might have.
Without a shred of courtesy or etiquette, I flung open the door to what had formerly been Sakayanagi-san’s class. If he’s still here, then… That’s what I had thought, anyway, but… As I searched for him, I subconsciously counted the number of desks as well. Sakayanagi-san had supposedly withdrawn from school of her own accord, and yet, the number of seats hadn’t decreased. But, more importantly, there were only a few boys and girls left in the classroom, and there was no Ayanokouji-kun in sight.
“Tsukasaki-kun,” I called out to Tsukasaki-kun, who was standing closest to me.
“Do you need something from me?” he asked.
“Surely you already know what I’m after, right? Where’s Ayanokouji-kun?” I asked in return.
“He left the classroom a few minutes ago. This is just a guess, but I think he’s probably headed to Keyaki Mall,” he replied.
“I see. Thank you,” I answered.
In that case, I had no more use for this place. When I stepped back into the hallway, I immediately saw some students smirking. Sure, we were in the middle of a vortex of troubling controversy right now, but even so, it was disconcerting. As I walked down the hallway, I attempted to contact Ayanokouji-kun on my phone. The phone was ringing, but no matter how long I waited, there was no sign of him answering it. Either he didn’t notice, or he did, and he wasn’t picking up.
“Horikita-san.”
It was none other than Matsushita-san who had called out to me as I headed for the exit.
“Sorry, but I’m in a hurry right now,” I replied.
“I know. You’re going to see Ayanokouji-kun, right? Let me go with you,” she said as she started walking right alongside me, keeping pace so as not to slow me down.
“Why do you want to come with me?” I asked.
“Because I also want to know the reason for Ayanokouji-kun’s transfer. Also, I’d like to ask you this now just to be sure, but this isn’t part of your strategy or anything, right, Horikita-san?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, no, I didn’t plan any of this. Even if it were viable as a strategy, I’d have him transferred to Ryuuen-kun’s class. There’s little point in sending him down to Class C now that Sakayanagi-san is gone,” I replied.
“Yeah…I figured as much. Which must mean that Ayanokouji-kun made the decision to transfer without telling anyone then, right?” said Matsushita-san.
“I don’t know. Maybe he was asked to do this by someone, or he was threatened, or…” I replied.
Or maybe, he had been offered a hefty sum, and his heart was swayed…
A few such fantasies sprang to mind, but I immediately understood that they were virtually impossible. At the very least, he wouldn’t be the sort of person who would bend for money, and there was no way that someone as capable as him would decide to transfer because he was threatened. I didn’t want to acknowledge these truths, because it meant that Ayanokouji-kun really had made the decision to transfer based on his own whims. A worst-case scenario, that such a thing really might be the case after all, came to mind.
“I…don’t want to speculate right now. Not until I hear directly from him, anyway. So you’re going to have to wait and—” I began.
“As much as I’d like to wait, I also want to hear Ayanokouji-kun’s explanation with my own two ears. I want him to say that…that he has some kind of angle here, or say something that will convince us,” argued Matsushita.
I understood her feelings completely. I, too, wanted to hear a convincing answer. He didn’t say much to me, nor to anyone around him. That was why he was sometimes misunderstood as being incompetent or even antagonistic. But the truth was different. He thought about the class and lent a helping hand to them even when he felt like it was a hassle. So I was sure that he had some agenda that he hadn’t communicated with us.
Surely it was because he sensed something unusual and dangerous about the class that formerly belonged to Sakayanagi-san, which seemed to be steadily sinking now. Or…it was also conceivable that he had been hit with some kind of powerful threat. That was why he had marched in there alone, without telling his allies anything. Something like…what a hero from a movie would do.
Of course, my personal wishes factored into this too, but…that wasn’t the only important thing. I wanted him to have talked to me, regardless of what his reasons for deciding to transfer might have been. Leaving the class without saying anything, that was…that was…
“Ayanokouji-kun… Why…?”
Was I that unreliable?
“How stupid…”
Yes…I clearly was that unreliable. That question unintentionally forced my expression into a bitter smile. From his point of view, I was still like a child, not even remotely qualified to stand next to him. There was no way he would rely on me.
“Horikita-san are you all right?” asked Matsushita-san.
“I’m…fine,” I replied.
I wondered if the things I wasn’t saying aloud had somehow reached Matsushita-san, because she was looking at me with concern.
“More importantly, let’s focus on Ayanokouji-kun,” I added.
The class transfer had already been made official, but there was still a good chance that it hadn’t been his intention. If that was the case, then I definitely needed to rescue him. And not just me—the whole class needed to come together and scrape up Private Points for him.
3.1
I CAME TO KEYAKI MALL based on what Tsukasaki-kun had told me. Once there, I grabbed a random student, followed what I heard from them, and then went to the café. If the information I received was correct, then Ayanokouji-kun should be here…
I wondered what kind of face he was making right now, what he was letting show on his face. And I wondered about what thoughts he was thinking. I arrived, while trying to hold back feelings of impatience and restlessness. At the back of the café, in a corner, I saw Ayanokouji-kun…together with Hashimoto-kun and Morishita-san from Class C, as well as Ichinose-san from Class D.
“There…he is…” I remarked.
“Yes…” said Matsushita-san.
He looked like he was talking to the people around him casually, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
“He doesn’t seem to think anything of the transfer…” noted Matsushita-san.
It happened only an hour ago, but he was acting as though it was already something in the distant past…
“Anyway, let’s…begin by talking. It all starts from there,” I replied.
I wasn’t going to come to any conclusions at this stage. I couldn’t allow myself to draw any conclusions. I walked onward, suddenly attempting to bury my feelings as I felt my footsteps grow heavier. Right when I had closed the distance enough to be able to call out to Ayanokouji-kun, Hashimoto-kun noticed me and jumped to his feet.
“Hey, Horikita. We’re in the middle of a little strategy meeting right now. What do you need?” he asked.
An obstacle has arrived. I was fully cognizant that I would be met with such a response. However, right now, the only person I wanted to talk to was Ayanokouji-kun.
“I need you to let me talk with Ayanokouji-kun,” I replied.
“If you want to talk to our leader candidate, you’re gonna have to go through me first,” said Hashimoto-kun.
“Leader candidate… That’s quite a sudden development,” I remarked.
“It’s not sudden at all. We’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time now. Isn’t that right, Ayanokouji?” said Hashimoto-kun.
Hashimoto-kun smiled and looked to Ayanokouji-kun for agreement. I wished that Ayanokouji-kun would tell him off right then and there, but I couldn’t even bring myself to look directly into Ayanokouji-kun’s eyes as he turned his gaze toward me. That was because I wasn’t confident that I’d be able to accept the next words that were going to come out of his mouth…
“What he says is true. There wasn’t any chance of it happening while Sakayanagi was still around,” Ayanokouji-kun said plainly.
It was a declaration that I didn’t want to hear. I deliberately chose to ignore that and continued with what I came here to ask.
“What is the meaning of all this? You’re transferring classes?” I asked.
“Hey, don’t just launch into a conversation on your own, come on,” said Hashimoto-kun.
“Sorry, but I need you to shut your mouth right this instant. As the leader of my class, I need to have a grasp on the current situation,” I barked.
“I see, okay, as the leader of your class. All right. Well, it’s definitely true that one of your classmates suddenly left. I suppose it’s only natural to be curious, but it ain’t like I can just let you confirm anything, since it’s more convenient for us if you guys are struggling,” said Hashimoto-kun.
The grinning Hashimoto-kun had a sound argument. There was no doubt that it would be better for Class C to turn me away when I came barging on in.
“Come on, don’t glare at me like that. By the way, what’s Matsushita doing here with you at such a crucial moment?” asked Hashimoto-kun, curious about the combination of me and Matsushita-san.
He had the sort of personality where he never dropped his guard, poking and prodding you over every small detail. It would’ve been better for me if he didn’t care who I was with, but he was feigning interest so he could stir things up. How could I answer this question in such a way to convince him, then, I wondered. As I started to consider my next move, Matsushita-san came up and stood beside me.
“I just randomly tagged along, that’s all. All so I can tell the others what I’ve seen and heard here as a fellow classmate, not as their leader. Horikita-san seems to think something of Ayanokouji-kun, but honestly, it’s not that big a deal for the rest of us,” said Matsushita-san.
Matsushita-san answered thusly, as if she had deliberately chosen to take on a thankless role. I played along with her kind gesture and responded with a small nod.
“I see. Well, I’m sure it certainly looks like a strange transfer for all but a few students, yeah. There’s no point in Ayanokouji dropping down to a lower class, and more importantly, why a student like him? That’s what people are saying, right?” said Hashimoto-kun.
He was right. There shouldn’t have been many people like Sudou-kun and me, who were aware that Ayanokouji Kiyotaka was a capable student—only a select few should’ve been in the know. Matsushita-san, standing here beside me, shouldn’t have been any exception to that, but…
Ayanokouji-kun briefly looked at Matsushita-san and me and then returned his gaze to Hashimoto-kun, who was about to sit back down.
“What Matsushita said just now about randomly tagging along was probably a ruse,” Ayanokouji-kun stated plainly.
“A ruse…? Horikita seemed like she was pretty convinced that was true though, dontcha think?” said Hashimoto-kun.
“It’s a difference in perception. From Horikita’s point of view, Matsushita is probably just an ordinary classmate. In reality though, Matsushita is actually quite more than she appears. It seems like Matsushita values my abilities highly, just as much or perhaps even more so than Horikita,” said Ayanokouji-kun.
After hearing Ayanokouji-kun’s words, I briefly looked over at Matsushita-san. She was trying to appear calm, but I could tell that she was slightly shaken. Did she know more about Ayanokouji-kun’s abilities, maybe even earlier than I had imagined…? That was how I had interpreted it based on how Ayanokouji-kun phrased things, but…
“I think it’s likely that she felt she couldn’t entrust this matter to Horikita alone. That’s why she came along to see me with her own two eyes: to find out the reason for my transfer and confirm the truth of the matter. If you look only at her OAA and how she acts on a day-to-day basis, Matsushita appears to be a typical good student, but in reality, she is one of the more intelligent students within Horikita’s class. She’s the type of person who usually doesn’t give her all and stays in the background. In fact, in this situation, it would be better to see Matsushita as being able to analyze things more calmly than even Horikita,” explained Ayanokouji-kun.
“Oh, come on now, Ayanokouji-kun, you’re way overestimating me, don’t you think?” replied Matsushita-san.
When Matsushita-san tried to deny it, Ayanokouji-kun continued to shower her with words, showing no signs of letting up.
“No, that’s not true. You have a history of skillfully laying the groundwork for me behind the scenes on many occasions when I’ve asked you for help in the past. Even with the matter of Maezono’s expulsion, you lent me a hand. If anything, I think that I’m giving you a reasonable evaluation,” said Ayanokouji-kun.
That’s how Ayanokouji-kun broke things down. When I looked in Matsushita-san’s direction once again, she could no longer hide her unrest whatsoever. This cooperative relationship between Ayanokouji-kun and Matsushita-san must have been going on without my knowledge, in ways I didn’t know. What’s more, this was casually revealed in front of students from other classes. Was this to give the impression that he was no longer an ally…? No, that might not even be playing into why he was revealing this all so openly. Ichinose-san, who had been listening to this conversation with apparent interest, rested her hand on her chin and gave a friendly smile.
“I had no idea that she was so dependable! I suppose this means I still don’t have a particularly good understanding of many students myself yet. I’ll need to pay careful attention to Matsushita-san from here on out myself,” said Ichinose-san.
It felt like my legs were shaking unsteadily and I was about to lose my sense of balance. These are suspicions that I never once had before, not in the slightest. This place had completely turned into unfamiliar surroundings for both me and Matsushita-san, and Ayanokouji-kun’s attack on us wasn’t done yet.
“There isn’t any point in looking for a reason why I transferred. That was why I didn’t tell you, Horikita, or you, Matsushita. Well, no, it’s why I didn’t tell anyone in the class about this. I’m sure you’ve already noticed, but as you can see, neither Hashimoto, nor Morishita, nor Ichinose look surprised by my transfer. You can infer what I’m trying to say when I point that out, right?” said Ayanokouji-kun.
“Well…maybe you just told them after you met up at this café, and…” I protested.
“In that case, you should head on back to Class C or catch that classmate of mine you asked earlier and talk to them. They should be able to tell you how long they knew about my transfer,” said Ayanokouji-kun.
Though it should have been able to come out, my voice was stuck in my throat. The words that were supposed to pass through weren’t coming.
“Yeah, it’s scary when a student leaves your class, Horikita, for sure. Same for us, too, like how there was a flow of information to Ryuuen from Katsuragi after he left our class. Though he did get cut off from us… Well, that was because Sakayanagi had made an effort to cut him off. So Katsuragi didn’t have too much of the inside story. But that’s not true for Ayanokouji, now is it? He was the backbone of your class, so I’m sure that if he digs through what he knows, he’ll bring up lots of stories, and not just about Matsushita,” said Hashimoto-kun.
Hashimoto-kun, speaking as though he found this amusing, lightly slammed his hand down on the table.
“All righty, then, Horikita, I think it’s about time you said what you came here for. We were in the middle of an important discussion,” said Hashimoto-kun.
“What I came here for…? I already told you, I… I want to speak with Ayanokouji-kun. With just the three of us, if possible,” I replied.
“As you can see, I’m talking with Hashimoto and the others right now. Say what you need to right here and now,” said Ayanokouji-kun.
“It’s…difficult for me to say what I want to here. If you’re in the middle of something, then, sure, okay, we could even talk at night, or tomorrow, or the day aft—”
“Sorry, but I have a full schedule for a while after this,” he said coldly.
No matter how much he tried to turn me down, I had no other choice but to remain tough. There were numerous students in the café, some of whom were my classmates. If I were to carelessly let myself lose my cool here, it would affect the future direction of Class A.
“In that case, I’ll go ahead and say my piece here and now… I came because I wanted to hear what your true intentions are. You know that, don’t you?” I asked.
“You really want to hear the reason for my class transfer, no matter what?” he asked in return.
“Yes. Why would you do something like that…?” I replied.
Was I the cause? Or was there some kind of event that caused you to change your mind? A thought that would remain unvoiced. A shout from my heart that I desperately tried to conceal so that it didn’t become real.
“Sorry, but I don’t feel like answering that. The only thing I can confirm is that my transfer from Class A to Class C is real. It’s not a dream or an illusion, it’s the truth,” he replied.
With those words, he broke his gaze away from me. Even though I told him that I’d listen, he responded in a way that was almost crude, like he was turning me away at the front door.
“Unfortunately, I have nothing further to say to you,” he added.
“Are you all right with not answering anything? You do realize you’ll be treated as a traitor, right, Ayanokouji-kun?” snapped Matsushita-san, persistently trying to sink her teeth into him. “Don’t you think that you’re already more than halfway there?” she added.
The person in front of us didn’t care how he was seen by others. He didn’t think about it in terms of being prepared for the ramifications of it or not.
“Yes,” he replied.
Even if I attempted to push him any further, I wasn’t going to get any results. It was clear that by doing so, I’d only be making myself appear pitiful. No…I knew that things were going to play out this way from the beginning. If I’d had any worry about being seen by others, I could have taken countermeasures by simply meeting in the dorms or delaying the timing. I knew that, but I just couldn’t restrain myself.
“Let’s go, Matsushita-san. He… I understand quite well that he’s become my enemy. It’s obvious that there’s no need for us to show any discretion moving forward,” I declared.
Turning my back to him, I began walking away. But even so, I don’t think that any clear emotions remained in me. Only an indescribable wave of discomfort, like a headache or dizziness, remained.
Chapter 4: The Start of a One-Year Period
Chapter 4:
The Start of a One-Year Period
NOW, LET ME WIND the timeline back to just a little earlier, right after the opening ceremony. I didn’t return to the Class A classroom from the gymnasium, but rather, I headed straight to the faculty office. However, since a faculty meeting was in progress, I made my way to the chairman’s office instead. When I informed him of my intentions, he seemed somewhat surprised, but he didn’t pursue the matter too deeply, which perhaps meant he had been told about it by that man. Afterward, he confirmed that I had the twenty million points in my possession, a check was arranged to confirm the source of the generous sum, and the transfer was hastily initiated.
It was probably going to take some time for Mashima-sensei, who had just learned about my transfer before homeroom, to understand that this was real. Class C’s homeroom teacher still had a shade of bewilderment on his face, but he cleared his throat and turned his gaze toward me.
“I think that it might be a good idea to do a self-introduction at this juncture. What do you think?” he asked.
Of course, it wasn’t like I had just come to this school for the first time. Though we’ve been in different classes all this time, I had everyone’s face and name memorized. All of the students in Class C recognized me as well. However, I still needed to perform my social obligations properly, for formality’s sake.
“I know that we’ve gone through the opening ceremony already, but allow me to introduce myself: I’m Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, and I just transferred to this class by using twenty million Private Points. I cannot replace Sakayanagi, who has voluntarily withdrawn from school. However, if all of you, my classmates, still have the will to fight, then I am confident that I can help in breaking us out of this situation, even after the major setback this class has suffered,” I announced.
I was concise, but I made sure to convey what was necessary. A safe choice of words, made after reflecting on when I failed to introduce myself in my first year. Though I thought that I had gotten a passing mark, I wondered if my intentions had been conveyed to the students. While everyone gawked at me without uttering a word, one student broke the silence and gave me a round of applause.
“Welcome, Ayanokouji!”
It was none other than Hashimoto Masayoshi, the biggest investor in my transfer to Class C. Following his lead, several other people joined in with some scattered applause. Despite this, I could see that this was a situation where not everyone was quite so welcoming. Not all the looks I was getting were filled with warmth. Rather, many were cold, and the majority of the students seemed to genuinely not be welcoming me with open arms.
Of course, I wasn’t expecting everyone to be receptive from the start, not by any means. Rather, I wouldn’t expect such a thing. The reason being that, if I were warmly welcomed, it’d be because the class was made up of a bunch of cowardly wimps. It would have been like the class had, as a result of the loss of Sakayanagi, lost their decision-making abilities and left everything in the hands of some untrustworthy helping hand. They needed to be alert, suspicious, and even demand results quickly and assertively. However, Mashima-sensei, who had no idea that his students were contemplating such things, interpreted the feeling in the air to be one of awkwardness, and resumed homeroom.
“Now then, as for your seat, Ayanokouji… Let’s see…” he said aloud.
He looked around the classroom, still unable to hide the look of bewilderment on his face. There were currently thirty-six students in this class, excluding me. If you were to look at it in terms of formation alone, there was more than enough space to add four seats without any problems. It would have been better for me to have been placed somewhere in the fourth row, where there were fewer students…or was it possible that the class would end up changing all of the seating assignments? Before Mashima-sensei could give his answer, a female student seated in the far back near the window sharply raised her hand.
“I think that in front of me would be a good seat for now.”
Perhaps Mashima-sensei hadn’t expected such a declaration to be made right then, or perhaps he was surprised that the student in question made such a declaration, but he appeared visibly puzzled, so much so that he couldn’t hide it.
“In front of you, Morishita…?” he replied.
That’s right. It was none other than the oddball Morishita Ai who had made that declaration.
“Yes, indeed. Allow me to explain. First of all, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka has experienced a sudden life change, or, in other words, he is new to this class and in an unfamiliar situation. Therefore, if you were to suddenly place him in the center of the classroom, for instance, he will likely end up retreating into his shell like a gloomy, depressed loner. However, it would be much too kind to give him the most comfortable position, a spot in the far back near the window, which many students envy, or, in other words, the same position that I am currently in. Also, since we were enemies until just moments ago, he will be considered a foreign entity residing within this class. Therefore, it will be necessary to keep a watchful eye on him. After taking all of these factors into consideration, I have humbly decided that it would be better for him to be seated in front of me. If there are any objections to this proposal, I would ask that they be brought forward here and now,” stated Morishita.
The students had no counterarguments in response to Morishita’s logic, which was mixed with dogmatism and bias. Well, it wasn’t really a big issue for me personally no matter where I sat. Also, as a homeroom teacher, Mashima-sensei probably wasn’t going to reject the proposal flatly out of hand if there were no objections from the other students about the seating arrangement. There was only one obstacle that remained: whether the student sitting in front of Morishita was going to accept this proposal…
“Sugio, are you fine wi—” began Mashima-sensei, speaking up to get confirmation from Sugio Hiroshi, who was currently seated in that spot.
“It’s more than fine. I beg you, please change my s—I mean, it’s all right to change my seat,” said Sugio.
He suddenly interrupted Mashima-sensei to accept the seating change. If anything, he looked visibly happy to be moved.
“I see. Well, then, Sugio, how about we have you move to an empty spot in the back row?” said Mashima-sensei.
“Yes, Sensei!” he exclaimed.
Sugio, after giving a nice, polite response to the teacher, promptly collected his things and immediately stood up from his seat. Now that the students were satisfied with the new seating arrangements, Mashima-sensei quickly brought in a new chair and desk for me.
“All right, Ayanokouji, take your seat. I’ll continue homeroom,” said Mashima-sensei.
“Understood,” I replied.
I was then positioned in front of Morishita, just as she had suggested. As soon as I sat down, Morishita’s voice echoed from behind.
“I look forward to collaborating with you, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka,” she said.
“Yeah, same here,” I replied.
The entirety of Class C was still somewhat unsettled, but unlike Horikita’s class, which I had been familiar with, it was considerably quiet here by comparison. I’m sure that even though the students here had been told in advance that I would be transferring in, more than a few of them probably thought that I wasn’t actually going to do it.
It seemed like their fundamental qualities as students were in harmony. I was grateful for this environment, which would allow me to easily make moves at this current point in time, saving me a lot of time and effort. Through OAA, I already knew the faces and names of all of the students, and I had a surface-level grasp on their abilities. However, there were many aspects of an individual student’s capabilities that couldn’t be seen through school assignments alone, just as was the case for me personally. Getting to know these students would be one of my top priorities as I began my new school life.
With only one year left, I couldn’t take things slow. However, there was no way that I could rush or compromise, like by immediately opening up to people simply because I didn’t have much time left. I needed to strike a balance.
“What are you thinking about, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka?” Morishita whispered to me softly from behind.
“About what I’m going to do from here on out,” I replied.
“Can you make one hundred friends?” she asked.
For some reason, she said that in a somewhat rhythmic fashion. It was certainly true that getting to know my classmates wasn’t unrelated to the idea of making friends, I supposed.
“That’s not what I was thinking about…” I replied. Since her phrasing was somewhat off, I’d decided to deny it.
“Are you not thinking about how you would like to eat onigiri with one hundred people?” asked Morishita.
“I’m not… Actually, I don’t even understand what you mean. Why onigiri and why one hundred people?” I asked.
And furthermore, why was she continuing this rhythmic intonation?
“Please turn around and face me,” said Morishita.
When I followed her instructions and turned around, I saw Morishita glaring at me with a hard stare.
“Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, contrary to expectations, you are an idiot, aren’t you?”
“That’s quite a thing to say,” I replied. I thought that the idea of making one hundred friends and wanting to eat onigiri together with them was an unrealistic notion, though.
“I can’t believe that you don’t even know this set-up for a joke,” she said. “No, it’s such a common, well-understood conversation starter that one couldn’t even call it a set-up. Are you okay in the head?”
“That’s a conversation starter that probably no one would understand,” I replied, earning me a deep, deep sigh from Morishita.
“I suppose it would be more accurate to say that you are ignorant of the ways of the world rather than an idiot,” she said.
She seemed to have felt dejected by this of her own accord, but I had absolutely no clue why she was feeling that way. Could I make one hundred friends? Did I want to eat onigiri with one hundred people? I tried to calmly think through it for a moment, but I just couldn’t understand what it meant after all.
“That’s enough. Make sure you face forward properly so that you can listen to what the homeroom teacher is saying in earnest,” said Morishita.
Morishita, you were the one who made me turn around though…
4.1
THE SCHOOL DAY ENDED after Mashima-sensei gave us an explanation regarding the schedule and classes from tomorrow onward. Unlike the previous two years, third-year students seemed like they would have to make substantial changes in how they spent their time. It was one of the turning points of their lives: They would need to decide on their future path by the summer and work toward it in parallel with their school activities. For those who had already decided on their futures, or for some students like me who were already on a set track even if they didn’t do anything, this was irrelevant, though.
“If no one has any further questions, this concludes today’s homeroom,” announced Mashima-sensei.
Mashima-sensei decided to bring today to a close. It was possible that the students of Class 3-A, beginning with Horikita, would come after me in droves as part of the aftermath of them not being informed that I was transferring to Class 3-C until just moments before it happened. Still, that didn’t mean I was going to run away in a panic. Even if I did, it was a given that I’d be hounded for answers at some point in the future anyway. Though, if such a ruckus were to occur here, that could lead to unforeseen troubles arising.
It would probably be safer to change locations before that happened, if possible. Besides, I had a meeting with a certain student later. I was just about to get up from my seat when homeroom ended, but Hashimoto quickly pulled out his chair and got up, practically flying out of his seat.
“Yo! Hey everybody, I know this real sudden, but how ’bout we throw a class-wide welcome party for Ayanokouji? Let’s live it up at Keyaki Mall!” said Hashimoto, offering a suggestion to his classmates.
However, immediately afterward, the class was enveloped in a tense, prickly vibe. I quietly, stealthily settled back down onto the chair after I had almost gotten up, so as not to be noticed. Mashima-sensei too, who was about to leave the classroom himself, stopped and turned to check the reactions of the students. For a few seconds, there was a period of quiet, where no one said anything. It was Yoshida who broke the silence.
“Sorry, but I’m against that,” he said. He uttered that rejection indifferently, with as little emotion injected into it as possible.
“Hey, come on now. Why, dude?” replied Hashimoto, slumping his shoulders in an almost overexaggerated fashion after his parade had gotten rained on. “Think about how Ayanokouji must feel after suddenly bein’ kicked to the curb by his close friends?” he added.
Did he think I’d been kicked to the curb? At any rate, I needed to try and parse out how I should feel. Well, at the very least, I assumed that I shouldn’t…feel good, anyway.
This development was frustrating—not because I wasn’t welcomed, but because I couldn’t just stand on the sidelines as a bystander in this situation when the vibe in the classroom was worsening due to my presence. I had never thought that someone would’ve proposed a welcome party in a situation where I hadn’t established any kind of relationship with anyone, but now that the suggestion had been made, I had no choice but to observe. That was because I was in no position to be able to say something like “By all means, sure,” or “I refuse.” Personally, I thought it would’ve been better if they just carried on as usual, but…Hashimoto had, for his part, suggested this with my best interests in mind, so I couldn’t take him to task over it.
“It’s not like I’m rejecting Ayanokouji himself, really,” said Yoshida. “We were prepared to welcome him into the class, and that’s precisely why we all contributed Private Points toward his class transfer. But you do get that we can’t honestly welcome him with open arms in this situation, right? Now that we’ve fallen to Class C, we can’t afford to fail a single one of the upcoming special exams. He needs to first produce results that demonstrate he’s on our side and beneficial to our class. Once he does, we will all recognize Ayanokouji as a friend and ally and welcome him even without your say-so, Hashimoto.”
Yoshida, after giving his reasons for refusing the welcome party, then got up from his seat. Machida chimed in next.
“I’m in agreement with Yoshida,” he said. “I don’t feel like I could bring myself to throw a welcome party with a fake smile on my face when he hasn’t done anything yet and there’s still a non-zero chance that he might be a spy.”
Then he and the other Class C students started to leave the room one after another.
“Damn dude…guess I messed that one up,” said Hashimoto. He turned to me, scratching his head dejectedly as a small sign of apology, but I gestured back to him that I didn’t mind.
Other students started leaving the room one after another, and in almost no time at all, there were only a few remaining. But that was expected, as we had been enemies up until this point, and I hadn’t been very engaged with the students of this class. Incidentally, I suppose that’s why Hashimoto, Morishita, Yamamura, and Sanada were among the remaining students. They were the ones I had cooperated with in the past and with whom I had shared a few friendly interactions. Putting it another way, aside from them, there was no one else who stayed in the room.
“I see that you are magnificently unpopular, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. It is almost as though you are an unsold commodity that has remained on the shelf,” said Morishita.
“It’s only natural that they wouldn’t welcome someone new with open arms,” I replied.
“That may be true, but would the same thing have happened if, hypothetically speaking, it had been a student like Ichinose Honami, Kushida Kikyou, or Hirata Yousuke who had transferred into this class?” asked Morishita.
“Well, that’s…” I began.
I tried to imagine how things would have gone if it had been one of the students she listed here in my place. Even with only a little effort, I could clearly picture the scene in my mind.
“I’m sure that, while this likely wouldn’t be everyone in class, someone like them would be met with smiling faces on all sides,” said Morishita.
“Well…sure, maybe so,” I conceded.
“No, not ‘maybe so.’ That is how it would be. Also, that was a somewhat poor attempt to get insurance on your part,” said Morishita.
Morishita shattered my slight “maybe so” future with all of her might.
“Which means that, in other words, the fact that you are unpopular is an undeniable truth, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka,” added Morishita.
She was laying into me harshly. I couldn’t deny what she was saying even if I wanted to.
“Shall we start with you accepting that reality?” she asked.
“I guess I’d better, yeah…” I replied.
I didn’t know for sure, but I felt that maybe I had grown a little bit sentimental. Yamamura and Sanada also left apologetically as Morishita’s sticking points continued to ring in my ears. After watching those two go, Hashimoto approached and gently patted me on the right shoulder.
“Sorry, Ayanokouji. The number of people joining us will be a teensy bit, uh, lower than I expected, but lemme give you a welcome party, ’kay?” said Hashimoto.
“Who will be attending?” I asked.
“As of right now, the only confirmed attendee is me,” said Hashimoto.
That really wasn’t a “teensy bit” whatsoever, but I saw no reason to refuse. If even one person was going to welcome me, I thought I’d go ahead and try to be open to it.
“Oh, hey, that’s right. You’ll come, won’t you, Morishita? After all, it’ll be extra unappealing if there aren’t any girls there,” said Hashimoto.
Hashimoto called out to Morishita, who still remained in the classroom, desperate to get a second person to come. But…
“I will decline.”
Morishita turned him down flatly without even a second delay.
“Wait, wait, hold on. Come on, don’t turn me down. You’re on our side too, aren’t you?” protested Hashimoto.
“Please stop. It would be problematic for me to be lumped together with a traitor and a social outcast,” declared Morishita. “Also, I have plans to embark on an adventure after class, so please excuse me. Poof!”
She then hurriedly grabbed her bag, stood up, and practically dashed out of the classroom. With her departure, only a few students, both male and female, remained. The female student sitting next to me was staring at me, but when her eyes met Hashimoto’s, she instantly got up from her seat. It seemed like it was inevitable that it was just going to be the two of us at this welcome party.
“So, what’s this adventure she’s embarking on anyway?” I asked.
“Oh, don’t pay any attention to her choice of words,” Hashimoto replied. “You only really need to listen to like half…no, like one-fifth of the words that come out of Morishita’s mouth. It’s pointless to take what she says seriously.” Clearly dismayed, Hashimoto gently patted me on the back and walked ahead. “It ain’t good for the body to be breathin’ in this congested air. How about we head somewhere else?”
With Hashimoto leading the way, I left the classroom.
4.2
HASHIMOTO AND I left Class C together and stepped out into the hallway. It seemed like we were the first class to start leaving, so that must have meant that the other classes hadn’t finished their first homeroom of the year quite yet.
“Guess this means we can get you outta here without any fuss on the first day of your transfer,” remarked Hashimoto.
“It’s only a matter of time before something happens though,” I replied.
It wasn’t only the students in Horikita’s class who would have been talking about the transfer. It was likely a hot topic between members of Ichinose’s class and Ryuuen’s class as well. Most likely, with each passing hour, more attention would be piled onto me, and some students were bound to approach me out of curiosity.
“If you don’t want to be bothered, we could always go to karaoke…but I suppose two guys bein’ all alone in a locked room together might feel a little, y’know,” said Hashimoto.
“I agree. I’ll pass on that,” I replied.
Perhaps Hashimoto was seriously planning on throwing me a welcome party, because we headed straight to the school exit together, directly leaving the building almost as if our escape from any stares directed my way were preplanned.
“Still, I gotta say, it’s like, I’m really, really wowed by your boldness, dude… I had no idea that you were seriously planning to transfer into our class. And what’s more, you used my money to do it,” said Hashimoto.
“How many times have you complained about that now? It seems like you really didn’t like doing it,” I replied.
It hadn’t been that long since I told Hashimoto about my transfer, but still, he brought it up at almost every opportunity.
“Well, yeah, of course I’ve got thoughts on the matter, man, that’s normal. My money was a valuable insurance policy for me after all,” said Hashimoto.
It was a considerable sum that he had obtained by working himself to the bone, going in all directions, and even betraying Sakayanagi in the end. No wonder his resentment practically came pouring out of him, since he had to give up most of his Private Points.
“Would you want to nullify it then, if you could go back to before the transfer was decided?” I asked.
“Well…to be honest, I’d probably be lying if I said I wasn’t of two minds about it,” replied Hashimoto.
“That’s fair. You might have had a future where you could’ve saved up twenty million Private Points on your own,” I answered.
Hashimoto responded with a small scornful chuckle and nodded, never denying what I said. It was a tough road to save up as an individual, but if you could, you were 99 percent guaranteed to graduate from Class A. That was precisely why it took courage and determination to abandon that dream.
“You’ve got to shoulder an appropriate amount of risk in order to graduate from Class A,” I remarked.
“You said it, man. I’ve really crossed a number of dangerous bridges in my own way over these past two years, y’know? I took part in the fight between Sakayanagi and Katsuragi, and I brought Ryuuen and Katsuragi together on that uninhabited island. I even rebelled against Sakayanagi! I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’ve done and what results I’ve achieved,” sighed Hashimoto.
Hashimoto spoke as though other students’ business were things that he had been deeply involved with of his own accord. Though for sure, it was certainly true that his actions would’ve definitely involved risk.
“In that case, you have to interpret this move positively. You succeeded in pulling me into your class because of your risk-taking efforts. That’s an undeniable accomplishment,” I replied.
“Yeah, I guess,” he answered.
Even so, Hashimoto couldn’t be genuinely happy about this, and he couldn’t be optimistic either. That was understandable, though. No matter how much stock Hashimoto put in me, we were currently in Class C. If there was going to be a transfer, the odds that Hashimoto would win would’ve been higher had he transferred into Horikita’s class. Or if he and I had both transferred together into Ryuuen’s class. Without a doubt, either one of those options would’ve been easier for him to accept.
Of course, it was precisely because such thoughts were so transparent that I had thrust two choices upon Hashimoto: Either he would give up his assets and accept me, or he wouldn’t. If he had refused, then there wouldn’t have been any cooperation from me until graduation. He would have fought for a year while making an enemy of his class, all while in a position that was obstinately antagonistic against me. There would be nowhere where his personal safety would be guaranteed, and he would’ve never known when Ryuuen would turn on him either. I made him weigh his options to see which choice would’ve given him a higher chance of winning.
“Believe you me, Ayanokouji. You’re gonna seriously shoot for Class A from here on out. I’m gonna make you stand out in spectacular fashion, so much so that you’ll hate it. Got it?” said Hashimoto.
He spoke excitedly, intensely expressing his wishful thinking. I figured that he thought he had the right to insist on that much, as a matter of course. It was certainly true that Hashimoto’s contribution was a major factor in lowering the hurdle for my transfer. However, that didn’t mean that Hashimoto’s wishes would be granted so easily.
“I’m sure I told you when I talked about my transfer. There were no guarantees about the choice to bring me into your class. I said that you would just have to make your choice based on whether you trusted me or not,” I replied.
Was I going to go for Class A or not? Even if the assumption was that I had the intention to do so, I didn’t tell him what the plan to get there was, what kind of strategy would need to be executed, or even provide an outlook on the situation. That was precisely why Hashimoto hadn’t been able to give an immediate response when prompted to make a decision about me, and even now, felt ambivalent.
But Hashimoto had antagonized Sakayanagi, and the fact was that he ended up being complicit in her voluntary withdrawal from school as a result. Even if not all of the students in Class C knew everything about him, there were still more than a few who were wary of and disliked him. It was by no means a comfortable class for him to be in. He was put into the kind of position where, if there were any inconveniences, he would be the very first to be cast aside. It had been a substantial risk for him to invite me in, when there was no guarantee that I would be even remotely helpful.
“Yeah, I know… I know you’re right,” said Hashimoto.
Despite all of his uncertainties, Hashimoto had ultimately decided to accept me. It wasn’t the ideal situation of using twenty million Private Points right before graduation day so that he could graduate from Class A with certainty; he went with another ideal, which was to graduate from Class A by working with me. Now, the person in question had concluded that it was not an ideal any longer, but a reality.
Hashimoto continued, “I accepted your terms, yeah? But if you have some idea about the road ahead, you could at least tell me a little bit about it. That’s what buddies do.”
“What’s the rush? I’m simply worried that you’ll betray me like you did Sakayanagi,” I replied.
“H-hey, come on dude, knock it off with the bad jokes. I’ve bet everything on you Ayanokouji. And besides, I am literally broke right now, man, I’ve got nothing! Remember? What would I even get from betraying you here?!” he wailed, persisting stoutheartedly in the face of my cold, dismissive words.
Seems like he had gotten flustered after all, because Hashimoto’s roundabout way of speaking had now transformed into frantic gesturing in an appeal to show his innocence.
“Even so, that’s your thing, Hashimoto. Surely there’s at least a 1 or 2 percent chance that you’re plotting something, is there not?” I replied.
“No, no, no, there isn’t, seriously. Come on man, I’m fine with other people suspecting me still, but can you at least cut me a break?” said Hashimoto.
Of course, deep down, I wasn’t concerned about whether Hashimoto was going to betray me or not. For Hashimoto’s sake, I figured now was the right time to cut down on the tension a bit.
“Okay, I probably went a bit too far there. I wouldn’t have been able to make this transfer to Class C happen so easily without your cooperation. Let’s talk about some thoughts about… No, let’s discuss a plan of action for the future,” I replied.
“Sheesh, you should’ve just honestly come out and said so right from the start then, dude,” sighed Hashimoto.
I took out my phone and made sure that I had gotten a reply. I figured that it might be better to take Hashimoto with me to my rendezvous later.
“I’m going to head over to Keyaki Mall now,” I declared.
“Meaning that what you’re hoping for isn’t a welcome party, but an opportunity to tell me about your plan?” he asked.
When I nodded in affirmation, Hashimoto responded with a satisfied nod of his own.
“By the way…what about you, Morishita?” I turned my head as I called out to Morishita, who had likely been watching us from the shadows. Though she had supposedly left the classroom earlier, she appeared from behind me.
“Well done, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka,” said Morishita. “Though your lack of popularity will get you no presents, you make up for it by picking up on the presence of others.”
Was that some corny wordplay with the word “presence”? I think I understood what she meant this time, unlike the one hundred friends thing from earlier.
“The hell, so you were curious in the end, huh? What happened to going on an ‘adventure’ or whatever?” sighed Hashimoto.
“The truth shall now be revealed. This is the adventure. The suddenly arrived Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, the one synonymous with unpopularity, and Hashimoto Masayoshi, the one synonymous with betrayal. What would you call coming into contact with these two but an adventure?” asked Morishita.
“That isn’t… Ugh, forget it. It’s only a waste of time trying to correct you,” retorted Hashimoto.
“You finally admitted it yourself. That you are a traitor,” Morishita stated.
“Oh, I see. Are you sure you’re okay being seen with a traitor like me? You turned down the welcome party earlier, remember?” said Hashimoto.
“I do not plan to attend a welcome party. It’s just that it is natural that, as a part of this class, I would want to talk about the future course of it. You are most likely going to be meeting with Ichinose Honami later, yes?” said Morishita.
Morishita touched on what my plans were for later that day with a sly grin on her face.
“Ichinose? Why are you bringing up her name now?” asked Hashimoto.
“Heh heh heh. From the looks of it, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka does not trust traitors after all. It seems he has not told you his plans for the future, or even just the end goal.”
Even Hashimoto, who had managed to keep a semblance of a smile on his face until this point, now stiffened slightly, responding to what Morishita said as though it was a provocation.
“Don’t tell me you talked to Morishita first…” he asked.
I could see the thought running through Hashimoto’s head as clear as day: Without me? The person cooperating with you the most?
“The consent of all members of Class C was an ironclad requirement for my transfer. You have a huge target on your back, so you weren’t the person I could ask to make sure the class was fine with me joining. And besides, you have a high opinion of me, whereas Morishita is deeply suspicious of me. It was necessary to give her a reasonable amount of information in order to secure her cooperation,” I explained.
“Well…okay, fine,” Hashimoto said. “It’s not like I don’t get what you’re tryin’ to say, it’s just…I dunno, I don’t feel happy about it. It’s like I lost to Morishita. Well, whatever! You can make up for it by letting me hear what you’ve got to say later.”
With a sigh, Hashimoto started walking toward Keyaki Mall, perhaps because he thought that standing around and talking about this any further would’ve been pointless. I started following after him, and Morishita lined up right beside me.
“What are you up to?” I asked.
“What?” asked Morishita.
“I already explained the plan of action to you, so you don’t need to go out of your way to join us today,” I replied.
The fact that she had been hiding earlier and was now tagging along suggested that she had set her sights on joining up with us from the very beginning.
“It may be true that I don’t need to hear from you, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. However, Ichinose Honami is a different matter,” she said. “Until I see it with my own two eyes, I cannot judge whether Class D, that class full of gullible good-natured goody-goodies, will be of any use to us or not. At the very least, if their leader remains the one I know, I do not hold out much hope.”
Morishita was trying to say that Ichinose was trustworthy but not dependable. That Ichinose’s strength encompassed weakness at the same time. As Morishita saw it, Ichinose was unreliable as a leader, to put it bluntly. It sounded as if she was saying that she wanted to confirm for herself whether there was any point in joining forces with Class D.
“In that case, go ahead and sniff out your own keen, great detectivelike deductions to your heart’s content. But refrain from any funny business,” I replied.
“That goes without saying,” said Morishita.
The three of us headed for the café, the meeting place that Ichinose and I had agreed upon beforehand.
4.3
WE EACH ORDERED our respective drinks at the café counter. Though I initially had zero points in my possession after my transfer, I had borrowed twenty thousand Private Points from Hashimoto with the condition that I was going to pay him back with the deposit made into our accounts this May, so payment wasn’t a problem. While I was waiting for my coffee and getting my receipt, I absentmindedly gazed at the poster advertising that the café was looking for part-time workers.
Similar notices were posted in other stores here and there, not just in the café. As far as the students at this school were concerned, though they did meet the age requirements, they weren’t permitted to work because having a part-time job in itself was prohibited. However, teachers weren’t going to be working those part-time jobs either. If so, were these posters meant to be a call to those people already working in Keyaki Mall in the hope that they’d change jobs? I couldn’t help but wonder.
I waited while thinking about meaningless things like that, and soon the coffee I ordered was ready. Since Hashimoto had secured a spacious seating area for us in the back, I also grabbed his drink for him and made my way over to him. After a few minutes, I saw Ichinose enter the café, gently waving at me. After she had finished a brief exchange with the worker at the counter, she approached with a cup in hand.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Ayanokouji-kun,” she said. “And I see that Hashimoto-kun and Morishita-san are with you as well. Hello.”
Ichinose directed a polite greeting to Morishita, who only nodded slightly but didn’t say a word. It was easy to tell that these two didn’t see each other much on a daily basis.
“There’s no problem if the two of them are here, is there?” I asked.
“Of course not, it’s no problem at all,” Ichinose replied.
Hashimoto wore a wry smile after hearing this brief exchange between Ichinose and me.
“I see that you don’t seem surprised… Does that mean you knew? About Ayanokouji’s transfer, I mean,” asked Hashimoto.
If Ichinose had first heard about my shocking transfer from the school this morning, then her surprise would have naturally come to the forefront. However, she had come to meet us without even feigning surprise, nor did she seem the slightest bit curious about my change in class. It was no surprise that Hashimoto reached the conclusion he did.
“Since a little while ago, yes,” she replied.
“Morishita, you also seem to know that Ichinose knew about it beforehand, from the looks of it,” remarked Hashimoto.
“I seemed to have known that she knew, hmm? So that must mean you remember all those who didn’t know, yes? That’s a rather interesting way of phrasing it,” replied Morishita.
“What are you on about? Are you trying to dodge the question by saying something that doesn’t make any sense?” answered Hashimoto.
“I have no such intention. Of course, I knew that she knew. The only person here who hadn’t heard anything at all was…” Slowly and smoothly, Morishita thrust her index finger toward Hashimoto, pointing directly at his eyes in a nasty, mean-spirited manner.
Hashimoto gently brushed her finger aside and looked back at her with resentment. “So I was the only one out of the loop, huh? This ‘relationship of deep mutual trust’ we have going on here sure is making me wanna cry,” he said.
“She’s only talking about the people present right now. I haven’t told any of the other classmates,” I replied.
“The same goes for my class as well,” added Ichinose. “Everyone was surprised when they heard the news, except for me.”
Even with that kindhearted follow-up from me and Ichinose, it seemed that Hashimoto still felt that this wasn’t something he could just swallow so readily.
“Thanks for the consolation attempt, but I’m going to go for the throat now and demand answers, including about why Ichinose was told about the transfer,” said Hashimoto. He was scowling now, not so much because of the strategy plans, but due to other factors. “Seriously though, why Ichinose? Don’t tell me you broke up with Karuizawa so you could date Ichinose?! Is that why you told her about all this?”
He came out and asked me that question without any hesitation. Had Hashimoto intuitively sensed the closeness between me and Ichinose, or was it unjust suspicion on his part, I wondered.
“That’s a rather audacious question. However, there is a part of me that somewhat agrees with you,” added Morishita.
They both looked at both me and Ichinose in turn.
“I wouldn’t talk about my transfer just because of circumstances like that,” I replied.
“If that’s the case, how come Ichinose knew about your transfer when she isn’t even in the class you transferred into? You got a properly convincing reason for that?” demanded Hashimoto.
“Of course. It’s because the cooperation of Ichinose and her class is indispensable for Class C to aim for Class A in the year ahead. Without Ichinose’s cooperation, my transfer into Class C wouldn’t have become a reality,” I explained.
“Okay this is a big deal you’re bringing up now… What do you mean by cooperation?” asked Hashimoto.
“An alliance with Ichinose Honami’s class… So, you were serious about that,” Morishita mumbled.
I nodded in response to what Morishita had quietly muttered to me.
“Huh?” blinked Hashimoto, his face distorting into a look of flabbergasted shock at sudden mention of a word like alliance.
“I am serious. In fact, the truth is that Ichinose and I have entered into a full-fledged alliance. Not just situational cooperation for the short term, but we have an agreement to fight together hand in hand for most of our battles as third-years from here on out,” I explained.
In order to first get the message across simply, I figured that touching on the fundamentals of my strategy, which Hashimoto wanted to know about, would suffice. However, he wasn’t satisfied with that, and if anything, the look of bewilderment on his face grew more intense.
“How is something like that even possible though? I mean, only one class can graduate from A, no matter how hard anyone tries. There’s no way you could have something like an alliance up until the end,” said Hashimoto.
I supposed that meant he had interpreted what I had said to have been a ridiculous statement or a joke. His reaction was within expectations, so there was no need for me to panic or strongly deny it.
“Not necessarily. While it’s true that we can’t form an alliance to get to the same goal, the fact is that we are neatly divided into two groups in the class struggle: top and bottom. It is significant that Ichinose and I aren’t aiming to win alone. As long as we can add the condition ‘as long as the four classes are in close competition on equal footing,’ it’s not difficult to maintain an alliance relationship,” I explained.
If I spoke calmly, he would surely understand that I was serious.
“Wait…hold on a minute,” said Hashimoto. “That’s still impossible, though. Even if the lower-ranked classes work together, it’s the school that decides what kinds of exams there are and what kinds of matchups take place. Which is exactly why, if the next battle is against Ichinose’s class, this whole alliance thing wouldn’t mean shit. The most we could do would be to have, like, a gentleman’s agreement that we’d try to make sure no one gets expelled from either side, as best we can. It’s not like either side can lose, so cooperation, that’s…”
If it were an alliance with a winner and a loser, then that would create a contradiction from that perspective. But that was not all that the word “alliance” meant. Before I could supplement my argument with anything else, Ichinose spoke up to explain.
“There are many times when we can’t do anything to influence the match-up, yes,” she said, nodding. “That has been proven many times over the past two years, and I think that’s only natural, on the school’s part.”
Make each class compete in a well-balanced manner and sometimes nominate or designate. That was the law of special exams that had been repeated throughout our time at this school up until this point.
“Which is why we’ve already worked out the finer details for those situations, in anticipation of that,” she continued. “In the future, in cases where it’s a one-on-one fight between Ayanokouji-kun’s class and mine, the arrangement would be ‘the class with at least one Class Point fewer will be handed the win.’ Technically, the actual agreement is a little more detailed than that, but what I’m trying to say is that if the winning class and the losing class are decided beforehand based on the conditions, there won’t be any trouble.”
Morishita abruptly let out a sigh after hearing Ichinose’s explanation, whereas Hashimoto immediately pushed back.
“Are you for real? I mean, sure, okay, an arrangement like this is easy to understand, but what I’m trying to point out here is that there’s no point in an alliance where we hand wins over to each other. I mean, really, handing over the win to whoever’s got at least one point less? And wait a second, hold on…that means that one side would end up losing a valuable opportunity to earn Class Points, basically. That’s like taking away a part of the special exams, which only happen a limited number of times in a year, and flushing it right down the drain!”
“You’re talking as though you and your class are going to be in the superior position in all of the special exams, Hashimoto-kun,” said Ichinose.
“Well, yeah, we’ve maintained our position as Class A all this time,” he replied.
“Until a little while ago, that is. Now that Sakayanagi-san has lost and voluntarily left the school, the strength of your class has been reduced by quite a bit, hasn’t it?” Ichinose pointed out.
“That’s why we brought Ayanokouji into our class,” argued Hashimoto.
“It was entering into an alliance with Ichinose’s class that supported my transfer,” I remarked.
“You’re saying that…the alliance is already established policy?” said Hashimoto.
When Ichinose and I nodded our heads almost simultaneously, Hashimoto responded with an exaggerated shake of his.
“Okay, even if it’s on the condition that there’s an alliance, first of all, there’s no guarantee anywhere that a class will just give up a win. At that rate, we’d just clash in a special exam and—”
If there were a special exam right now, Class C, which was currently slightly ahead of Ichinose’s class, would be the one accepting a loss.
“The trust that Ichinose has built up over these past two years will be the key to making this alliance work,” I declared, cutting Hashimoto off.
Hashimoto’s eyes widened and he choked down the words he was about to say. I guess that meant he didn’t want to follow a conversation that was beyond comprehension.
“I suppose that you, Hashimoto Masayoshi, who is constantly betraying others, can’t possibly imagine what that’s like, no?” said Morishita.
“Can you knock it off with the harsh commentary? Anyway, do you even understand how this works?” asked Hashimoto.
“I think that it all sounds ridiculous no matter how many times I hear it,” replied Morishita.
“There ya go, Ayanokouji. Apparently, even Morishita agrees with me,” said Hashimoto.
“I am not of the same opinion as you, though,” countered Morishita.
“Come on, just come out and say you agree with me on that part! Anyway, whatever. Sure, I can understand that Ichinose is far more credible than I am, yeah, but that ain’t the problem here. There’s always the risk that we’ll be betrayed, after all.”
“In that case, let’s talk about a hypothetical situation,” I said. “Suppose that we’re up against Ichinose’s class in the next special exam, and that we hand over the victory to Ichinose’s class, which is now Class D. Do you really think that Ichinose would then betray us afterward and break our alliance?”
Hashimoto crossed his arms and looked at Ichinose. Then, he averted his eyes slightly and let his mind go to work. There was a moment of silence, and then he eventually turned to face Ichinose, who was looking straight at him.
“Well…it’s not like I can’t trust you…” conceded Hashimoto.
“I’m glad to hear you say that, even if you’re skeptical,” said Ichinose.
Seeing Ichinose smiling warmly with happiness in her eyes, Hashimoto bashfully averted his gaze and scratched his cheek.
“Men are so simple. They truly are stupid creatures,” said Morishita.
At Morishita’s exasperated words, Hashimoto seemed poised to launch into a rebuttal, as though he had just come back to his senses. But just as quickly, he appeared to lose interest in the topic, because he began to mumble quietly to himself, holding both hands over his drink.
“B-but, that’s only because we’re still just at the very beginning of our third year right now, right? What if we fight together for a few months, and then her class attempts a coup? What then? Even if Ichinose can be trusted, her classmates might be tempted to betray us. And besides, we might end up in a similar situation ourselves. The eleventh hour isn’t exactly the time to be talking about whether someone can be trusted or not,” argued Hashimoto.
“Of course, the alliance will be dissolved when the time comes. I’m sure that you’re concerned about this, Hashimoto-kun, and you’re right, it’s not as though we can keep the alliance going for the entire year. However, there’s no benefit in us unilaterally severing it before the time comes. It’s precisely because we have our backs against the wall that I would like to maintain our cooperative relationship with Ayanokouji-kun as long as we can,” explained Ichinose.
There was more benefit in not betraying than what there was to be gained from betraying. Just like how I had evaluated Ichinose’s trustworthiness from her past, she had evaluated my ability from my present. Truly, an exquisitely balanced relationship had been formed.
“You sure hold Ayanokouji in high regard,” remarked Hashimoto.
“Yep. Just like you do, Hashimoto-kun,” answered Ichinose, looking straight at Hashimoto as she spoke without any hesitation whatsoever.
“I see… Well, I understand what you mean, Ichinose. And sure, maybe it’s true that there’s no advantage for you in betraying us. But there’s no guarantee that someone from our side won’t betray you, Ichinose, right? Or is that also factored into the agreement? For example, is this all firmly stipulated in a written contract? If that’s the case, then…” Hashimoto trailed off, looking to Ichinose for an answer.
But Ichinose smiled kindly, and said no. “There’s no written contract or anything. We just made a verbal promise to each other,” she explained.
“No matter how you look at it, that’s way too lax,” said Hashimoto.
“Well, it’s plenty good enough for me. Because just as Ayanokouji-kun trusts in me, I also trust in Ayanokouji-kun.”
Ichinose once again answered without any hesitation. She was so far outside of Hashimoto’s realm of understanding since, once again, he looked to be at his wits’ end.
“I just don’t understand it,” he huffed.
“I suppose those that treat betrayal as a given would not get it. However, I cannot understand it either,” said Morishita.
Morishita, who had been mocking Hashimoto from beginning to end up until this point, also seemed to be dissatisfied with the contract between Ichinose and me.
“Let us put aside the matter of credibility for the time being. Does this alliance really have much meaning in practice? I am not saying that it would be totally ineffective, but can you say that Class D is capable enough to contend for Class A?” asked Morishita. Her eyes were full of doubt, the tenor of her argument being that it wasn’t very realistic at all.
“Yeah, I agree with that too,” said Hashimoto. “Before even getting to the whole trust thing, how could this alliance be the key to anything? What do we get out of it? In the end, even if you call this thing an alliance or whatever, you’re just saying it’s going to be handing over wins whenever we end up having to butt heads with each other. I can’t imagine how that would be enough to help us catch up to Horikita’s and Ryuuen’s classes.”
From Hashimoto’s point of view, this was far from an opportunity to increase the number of chances to gain Class Points, but something that would decrease those chances. There was no doubt that was how he saw the alliance.
“The results of this alliance won’t just be us handing over wins to each other or simply not antagonizing each other. When we’re all completely on the same side, as allies, the amount of information that we can get in our everyday lives will double as well. This means that we’ll be more effective in many situations, and needless to say, that means when studying or taking a sports-centric exam as well,” I explained.
Two people were better than one. Three people were better than two. It was possible for people who were good at something to get together and to help support those who weren’t so good at it as well, and this also would create incentive and increase synergy. There would surely be cases where students would work together, such as the uninhabited island exams held last year and the year before, where all students participated.
“Also, our classes joining forces means that Private Points can conveniently be made available to each other as needed. And, in the unlikely scenario that a considerable sum is needed, we can be flexible then as well. It’s conceivable that it could even be helpful to us in special exams,” I added.
Of course, there were no guarantees that any of that would be necessary, as it was only a small benefit. However, simply having the option of being able to achieve what would be impossible for a single class would be a weapon in our arsenal.
“Okay, yeah, I can wrap my head around that,” said Hashimoto. “It’s better to be able to borrow points rather than not being able to, but… It’s just that, the fact that we’re forming an alliance or whatever will be immediately obvious though, won’t it? What if the top two classes join forces now that we’ve formed an alliance? That’d just obliterate all the advantages that you just mentioned.”
“That’s not a concern at this current time,” I replied. “It’s precisely because they’re the top two classes that they can’t be in a give-and-take relationship. It would be more of a disadvantage for them to allow Class Points to shift between them without any losses to each other. Besides, even putting Horikita aside, Ryuuen has no credibility whatsoever. They can’t have the kind of relationship where one side would say, ‘Let us win first,’ or ‘Lend us Private Points,’ or where they could lend a hand unconditionally. Though, that being said, I also can’t imagine Horikita compromising either, really.”
Besides, even if they could be a little flexible with each other, “a little” wouldn’t be enough for Ryuuen. More importantly, there would also be significant challenges associated with trying to win over Ryuuen, because he was someone who liked to go big and bold.
“Well…yeah, that’s true. But that’s exactly why we’ve got things called contracts. If they’ve got a written contract, that would force them to stick to the rules, just like when Ryuuen and Katsuragi joined forces,” said Hashimoto.
“Sure, something like that is possible if they produce a written contract and involve the school, but that would put us at a major advantage if it were to happen,” I replied.
“Them forming an alliance would?” asked Hashimoto.
“Yeah. Because if the upper classes join forces, they’d naturally end up putting their hands around each other’s necks and strangling each other. If they bind themselves to words in a contract like ‘we’ll mutually concede victory to the other in give-and-take,’ that would mean having to bear losses at times when they need to win. Because of the binding nature of an agreement, it couldn’t possibly be violated, either,” I explained.
“Meaning that a tightly fixed contract could sometimes be a fatal blow,” concluded Morishita quietly, muttering those words to herself as she held her cup in her hands.
“On the other hand, we have no useless binds like a written contract. We can adjust our policies based on the state of the conflict, adapting as needed—flexibly, and without betrayal. And if there’s a gap in Class Points, one side can provide kindhearted relief to the other until that gap is filled,” I continued.
Generally speaking, a contract should have been put in place. But there were a wide range of strategy options available by not having one.
“Well, this is a real surprise. So the lack of a written contract actually works to our advantage, huh? I never thought of it from that perspective… Anyway, in the end, we’re gonna break off this alliance and compete with each other, right?” asked Hashimoto.
“I believe that Ichinose already said as much herself, but yes, that’s exactly right. When we get to the point where Class C and Class D rise up and are side by side with Horikita and Ryuuen’s classes, then our cooperative relationship will naturally dissolve,” I explained.
That was, of course, with the consent of Ichinose’s side. That was exactly why Ichinose nodded in response to what I just said, as an easy way to show Hashimoto and Morishita that she agreed.
“Okay, I’m more or less convinced,” said Hashimoto. “But that brings up a new concern. Let me come right out and ask you this question here: Why’d you decide to cooperate with Ayanokouji? It’s true that Morishita and I are planning to set up Ayanokouji to take over from here on out, but most of our classmates still haven’t agreed to that. If Ayanokouji is branded as unfit to be a leader, this whole alliance won’t have any meaning, and if anything, it’ll actually drag us down. Are you able to handle that kind of risk?”
Hashimoto threw that question not at me, but at Ichinose, most likely intentionally. I concluded that Hashimoto guessed he could strip everything away and see the naked, unvarnished Ichinose with his insight, but it wasn’t going to be that easy. How far would his perception take him against someone who had clearly changed and grown?
“We’ve fallen all the way down to Class D, and we’ve got our backs against the wall. You’re aware of that, right?” said Ichinose.
“Yeah, of course,” said Hashimoto. “Which is exactly why an alliance would be an uncomplicated way to make progress. Not a full step forward at a time, but a half step. Honestly, this alliance proposal makes me feel anxious and impatient.”
“I’m going to borrow your phrasing here, but for us, it’s better to take a guaranteed half step than it is to take a gamble on a full step that we don’t know will actually pan out. We’ve been walking for two years now, but instead of moving forward, we’ve been going backward. Our situation is different from yours, Hashimoto-kun. That was why I was able to accept an alliance from the very beginning.”
Hashimoto nodded once in response to Ichinose’s positive, forward-facing attitude.
“Okay, then I’ll rephrase my question. What if Ayanokouji doesn’t become the leader after this? Or, if he does become the leader, what if the major prerequisite for our class to accept his leadership is that we don’t ally ourselves with Class D? Would you be honestly fine with pulling out of this relationship if that time comes?” What Hashimoto feared was a half-baked framework for cooperation, or that Ichinose’s class would become dependent upon us and collapse. “I hope you don’t take offense at me saying this, but honestly, I feel like this’ll be a burden. I mean, between our class and yours, Ichinose, it’s obvious which one of us would be in control. So, if you’re saying that you want to form an alliance, don’t you think we’d want something in return for being on equal footing?”
“Something in return? What kind of ‘something’ in return would you want?”
Without rejecting the idea of it entirely out of hand, Ichinose showed a willingness to first hear a proposal from Hashimoto.
“You are a shameless man, indeed. What is it you wish Ichinose Honami to do?” said Morishita.
“Don’t just go ahead and heap unjust suspicion on what I’m gonna say,” snapped Hashimoto.
“But what if she says it’s okay?” asked Morishita.
“Well…” Hashimoto paused for a long time, lost in thought. “No, I’m telling you, that’s not what I meant!” he cried.
“That pause just now said all that needs to be said,” replied Morishita.
Hashimoto waved Morishita aside after she interrupted the conversation.
“Anything. Like, paying us Private Points, or—” began Hashimoto.
“Sorry, Hashimoto, but the only alliance that I want to reap the benefits of is not one of subordination, but of an equal relationship. Carelessly establishing a hierarchical relationship would actually be more of a disadvantage,” I remarked, interrupting him.
You could also expect that in times of disagreement and strife between our classes that Class C would naturally take advantage of their higher-level position to pressure Class D to comply. That was something I wanted to avoid.
“One thing I want to reassure you about is that if Ayanokouji-kun—no, if even a single person from Class C opposes this idea, then I’m prepared to accept that,” said Ichinose.
“Oh? So, you’re saying it’s fine if we scrap this alliance proposal if there’s dissent?” said Hashimoto.
“Yes. But I don’t think we will have to worry about that.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it’s Ayanokouji-kun’s proposal.”
Ichinose’s eyes pierced straight through Hashimoto.
“I believe in him, and because of that, I don’t think this alliance will be called off,” said Ichinose.
“I see,” replied Hashimoto.
I jumped into the conversation. “Sorry, but we’ll need to stop this conversation for the time being.”
“Why is that?” asked Morishita.
When I shifted my gaze in a way that made it easy for the others to understand what I was doing, Hashimoto and Morishita followed where my eyes were. There, they saw Horikita and Matsushita, my former classmates who still hadn’t fully grasped the current situation, approaching.
“Aw man, of course they’d be looking for you. I’ll handle this,” said Hashimoto.
“Whatever you do, keep the matter of this alliance a secret,” I cautioned. “It’s impossible for those two to predict the possibility that we’d be forming an alliance at this stage, so it’s not necessary to tell them.”
“I know that much. No need to give things away this early in the process, after all,” said Hashimoto.
Perhaps Hashimoto’s interpretation and my calculations did not align.
“To be honest, it doesn’t really matter even if the alliance is revealed today or tomorrow,” I replied.
“Really? Why is that?” Hashimoto asked.
“Because there isn’t much point in keeping the alliance hidden or anything like that,” I said. “In fact, it’ll be much more effective when it’s made known. However, Horikita and her classmates have already suffered quite a bit of damage because I’ve transferred classes. Which means that it’d be a waste to tell them about our alliance, since it would only cause further confusion. It’s better to let them know about the alliance after their wounds from the truth of my transfer have healed a little. That way, it’ll damage them more deeply.”
“Got it… You mean you’re not showing any mercy, huh,” said Hashimoto.
My explanation contained some lip service directed at Hashimoto, Morishita, and Ichinose. Other people, who would be happy as long as Horikita’s class got taken down, would probably feel awe and relief at the same time over this. But my goal wasn’t to bring Horikita’s class down. It needed to lead them to growth. The weight placed on their minds would be considerable if they were faced with an unexpected threat, such as an alliance, in addition to my transfer.
Of course, Horikita’s heart might be deeply affected by this, but there was no need for concern. There were the last two years, and there were the relationships that Horikita had built with her classmates. I had faith that those things would help Horikita get back on her feet.
4.4
HAVING ONLY MANAGED to extract some evasive answers from me, Horikita and Matsushita went back the way they came. Afterward, Ichinose said goodbye and left to go meet up with some friends. Hashimoto let out a sigh as she watched her go.
“Man, the reaction from those two… I’m sure the news must’ve been quite a shock to ’em,” said Hashimoto.
“Indeed. So, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, you intentionally waited to transfer until the first day of school after the opening ceremony in order to provide the maximum degree of upset to Class A, do I have that right?” asked Morishita.
“I couldn’t discard the possibility that the school would have notified them in the event that I had done it by the day before, or that information would’ve been leaked somehow, such as by a homeroom teacher. Therefore, I determined that it was best to do it when it would be as instantaneous a transfer as possible. If I had done it during a class period, the margin of error would’ve been less than one period. However, we were in the same classroom before the opening ceremony, and I even attended the opening ceremony alongside them. It was a natural start to the term, the same sort of progression with friends as before. I’m sure that Horikita and her classmates must have subconsciously felt that this was it, that it would be our last year together,” I explained.
Ideally, I would reap the benefits of those faint hopes and expectations. I had calculated that exact timing.
“You seriously plotted that much? Dude, you’re merciless. To be honest, even though I’m on the side that snatched you away, it was hard for me to look directly at them when it looked like they were about to cry. On the other hand, though, you really don’t seem to have any sympathy, Ayanokouji,” observed Hashimoto.
“It’s preposterous that I’d have any,” I said. “Nor should I have any. I came to Class C to get into a position to bring them to Class A without fail in the year I have left. It’s a perfectly natural strategy to use transfers where they will be most effective.”
If I were someone who had any lingering attachments, there was no way that the students of Class C would accept me. They couldn’t trust such a person to be a leader.
“Man, I am truly, deeply grateful that you’re my ally,” said Hashimoto.
The current gap in Class Points was significant. Even if I were to force an expulsion, that wasn’t a tool that could be used incessantly. I was at the point where even the slightest wasted effort to improve the odds wouldn’t be acceptable.
“While I can’t say that I’m not still skeptical about this alliance thing, I’m more or less on board with it,” said Hashimoto.
“I am as well. However, you have a mountain of problems, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. If it becomes known that you are trying to form alliances and selfishly move things forward in a situation where you are not yet recognized as the leader by the majority of the class, the backlash from within will be even stronger,” cautioned Morishita.
“I’ve taken that all into account. Eventually, students who have opinions about me will come forward,” I replied.
Even if they were dissatisfied, the students in the class would have no other choice but to watch quietly for the time being. The entire class had collectively poured their Private Points into recruiting me. It was what was commonly referred to as the Concorde effect, or sunk-cost fallacy. Simply put, they couldn’t easily accept the investment they paid for turning into a loss.
Therefore, while they would criticize me, I would invariably be given leeway in the hopes that the results I would provide would be commensurate with that investment. The strategy of this alliance too, which at first glance may have appeared to have been reckless, would also be something that, from a position of compromise, they’d have no choice but to first simply watch unfold. A splendid example of the effect in action would be Hashimoto, who had allocated more Private Points to me than anyone else.
“So the first thing you need to do is be accepted by the class—and quickly,” said Morishita.
“You’d have a lock on that real quick if you’d clinch a special exam for us or somethin’,” suggested Hashimoto.
Morishita pulled out her chair and stood up, casually glancing over at Hashimoto.
“How do you mean?” asked Morishita.
“What do you mean, how do I mean?” asked Hashimoto.
“Could you entrust an unknown student to handle our plan of action for a special exam unconditionally?” asked Morishita.
“Well, I—” began Hashimoto.
“I think that if you hadn’t taken part in bringing over Ayanokouji Kiyotaka in this instance, you would have been at the top of the list of those opposing it. If I am wrong, provide a flawless rebuttal in one word,” said Morishita.
“It’s impossible to do that in one word though…” sighed Hashimoto.
“Heh,” chuckled Morishita.
Morishita, upon seeing no flawless rebuttal coming from Hashimoto, walked away from the table.
“Dealing with her is exhausting,” huffed Hashimoto.
“Was Morishita like that before she and I started talking?” I asked.
“Yeah, she’s never changed. Though, she definitely wasn’t the sort of person who ever actively got involved with anyone, that’s for sure. So, in that sense, it must mean you’re someone incredibly special to her,” said Hashimoto.
I wondered if I should have been honestly happy about that, but I had slightly mixed feelings.
4.5
AS I WALKED BACK with Hashimoto to the lobby of the dormitory, a student stood up upon seeing us. Hashimoto, sensing that this student was going to try to talk to me, was about to step between us on my behalf. But I stopped him, letting him know that it wasn’t necessary.
“You go on ahead,” I told him.
“Okay. If you got a buttload of stuff to talk about, then take your time,” said Hashimoto.
Hashimoto knew very well that this wasn’t a person who posed any particular threat, so he went on ahead and pressed the elevator button with a faint smile. The student waited for Hashimoto to get into the elevator before calmly opening his mouth to speak.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I think I’d like to take this somewhere else. It feels like we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we talk here,” said Yousuke.
“As long as it’s okay with you, Yousuke, I’m fine with that. You want to go to my room?” I asked.
“I think it’d be better to do this outside, actually,” he replied.
Granting his request, Yousuke and I left the lobby and were about to move away from the dormitory. However, it seemed that things wouldn’t work out so conveniently, because we ended up bumping into some students from Horikita’s class as they were coming back. It was the evening hours when everyone was heading back to their dorm rooms after all, so it was inevitable that something like this would happen.
“Hirata and…Ayanokouji,” muttered Sudou, somewhat bewildered.
Next to him was Ike, along with two who could be described as students who didn’t usually associate with this group, Keisei and Akito.
“I just met up with Suzune a minute ago and talked to her a bit… I hear that you actually transferred to Class C on your own, not ’cause of some kind of strategy?” asked Sudou.
It was unclear if Horikita hadn’t returned to the dormitory yet or if she had already gone back to her room.
“Yeah. Sorry,” I replied.
“Why though?” asked Sudou, looking heartbroken.
Just as Sudou was about to draw closer to me, Yousuke stepped between us.
“Sudou-kun. I think that we’ll attract a lot of attention if we continue this conversation here,” said Yousuke.
“Yeah…you’re right. Sorry,” Sudou replied.
“If there are things you want to discuss, I’m open to listening. For the time being though, how about a slight change of scenery?” I asked.
I responded in such a way to go along with Yousuke’s suggestion, and we all went around to the back of the dormitory. Sudou didn’t tag along alone, but the other three students all followed behind us without hesitation. As soon as we were in a spot that was out of view from the entrance of the dormitory, Sudou, perhaps unable to hold back any longer, immediately kickstarted the conversation once more.
“Why, Ayanokouji? Why’d you transfer classes? We finally got up to Class A, so there was no need for you to drop down to Class C, right?” said Sudou.
“Hah hah, maybe Karuizawa was the reason after all, huh?” said Ike.
I figured that Ike hadn’t meant to poke fun at me, but those words ended up involuntarily spilling out of his mouth.
“Hey, Ike!” snapped Akito.
“I mean, come on! I can’t think of any other reason! It’s embarrassing to get dumped,” said Ike.
“That’s true. That might have been one of the reasons,” I replied.
“See! Wait, did I seriously get it right?!” exclaimed Ike. He clapped his hands happily and said, “Dude, I was right!” and then got whacked on the back by an angry Sudou.
“Ayanokouji’s obviously lyin’, dude. C’mon,” snapped Sudou.
“Owww! If you say he’s lying but the man himself admits it, then I’m not so sure about that…” huffed Ike.
Ike furrowed his brow and glared at Sudou while running his hand over his back in an attempt to soothe the pain shooting through it.
“What’s the actual reason?” asked Akito in a tone that sounded like he was holding back his anger slightly.
It would’ve been easy for me to answer, but there was a mountain of circumstances that made doing so impossible.
“The reason, huh? I don’t see any point in answering that question,” I replied.
“There is a point! How do you think we’re feeling right now? I was just with Haruka up until a little while ago. She’s been really depressed this whole time. She keeps saying, ‘This might be all my fault,’ over and over and over again. She was wondering if her trying to reconcile with you for her own peace of mind ended up being a burden on you, Kiyotaka,” said Akito.
Now that he mentioned it, I did have the opportunity to speak with Hasebe before the End-of-Year Special Exam, didn’t I? It certainly wasn’t surprising that the others were wondering if the impact of their comments made at that time had any connection with my transfer.
“She’s been agonizing over this stuff for a long time now, even before what happened today. She said that she needed to properly express her gratitude for your help, Kiyotaka,” added Akito.
Keisei nodded in response to Akito’s appeal.
“I was saved by Ayanokouji-kun before myself. If he hadn’t helped me, I surely wouldn’t be at this school anymore,” said Yousuke.
It seemed like Yousuke had similar thoughts. Yousuke, who greatly feared others being hurt, had been heartbroken over the expulsion of three students from his class thus far. It was likely undeniable that he would’ve fallen apart without my support.
“That was why I respected your strength and relied on you as a classmate,” Yosuke continued. “But as we fought together during the Unanimous Special Exam and the End-of-Year Special Exam, there was a part of me that just couldn’t understand—no, couldn’t trust things the way they were. I won’t deny that I wish I had more strength myself, of course. But there were also more than a few times when I had suspicions about you.”
The end of spring vacation. He had hinted at that line of thinking before, even during the victory celebration that Horikita had planned. I was a little curious about the fact that he explicitly hadn’t been calling me by my first name since then, but considering the fact that he had kept doing so to this day, he might have been unconsciously wanting to put some distance between us. Just like how I had intentionally switched from calling a certain someone by their given name to their family name due to a change in our relationship.
“It’s just Sudou-kun and the rest of us here. Everyone in class is very worried and confused,” said Yousuke.
Everyone here wanted to know the reason. They wanted me to come out and make some kind of confession, like how I had transferred due to unavoidable circumstances.
“Worried and confused, huh? Well, that makes sense. I transferred classes without saying anything so that would happen,” I replied.
“What do you mean…?” asked Keisei.
Keisei, perhaps because his brain had momentarily refused to comprehend, asked me to elaborate on what I just said, adjusting the frame of his glasses.
“You can take what I said as is. I didn’t say anything so that I could make the class suffer. And the reason for that, if you wish to know, is simple: Class C was in trouble because Sakayanagi is gone, so I chose to help them by transferring into their class on the condition I be given Private Points in return,” I replied.
I conveyed and emphasized that this transfer was done only for my own sake.
A contrivance.
And a selfish one at that.
Even if what I said was peppered with lies, on the surface, it was an undeniable fact.
“Wh-wha… Are you being serious right now…?” asked Sudou.
Only Sudou said it, but Akito and Keisei were probably thinking the same thing, as they seemed similarly flummoxed by my cold explanation. Yousuke alone, however, seemed to be hardly perturbed at all.
“Ever since this morning, I’ve been asking myself, ‘Why’d things turn out like this?’ Y’know?” said Ike.
In the midst of this prickly vibe, Ike cocked his head to the side and brought his hands together at the back of his head.
“Sure, I get that their class is in a pickle with Sakayanagi gone,” Ike said. “But why is Ayanokouji the one they scrape together twenty million points for and bring over? I don’t get it at all. You’d normally think that if they were trying to weaken Class A, there’d be other students out there who they’d want more, right?”
That was a natural question to have, in a certain sense. With the exception of Yousuke and Sudou, the other people here likely couldn’t understand why I was the one who had been brought over to the other class in this current situation.
“I had thought so at first as well, which was exactly why I was curious, because I thought there had to be something behind this transfer. Do you really not feel like telling us the truth?” asked Keisei.
Keisei, while affirming what Ike suggested, wanted to know what was hidden behind it.
“Everything I said is true,” I replied. “Though it’ll be difficult to prove at this stage whether or not I’m worth the large sum that Class C paid to scout me. But I think that’s only a matter of time.”
“Wait, wait, hold on. No matter how ya look at it, it’s—” began Ike.
Just when Ike was about to question me on that, Sudou rushed up to Ike and grabbed him by the shoulder.
“This is a huge problem, Kanji,” said Sudou.
“Wh-what is…?” sputtered Ike.
“Ayanokouji’s transfer. You don’t get it…”
“So you’re saying you get it, Ken?”
“Ayanokouji’s—well, no, it ain’t like I know everything either, I guess…”
“What the heck’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means Ayanokouji’s real important to the class!” angrily snapped Sudou, his voice raised.
Yousuke approached him and asked him to calm down. He then quietly turned toward me.
“One thing I wanted to confirm today was what your intentions were in leaving our class. Because if it was something you did for the class’s sake, then I didn’t want anyone, me included, to get the wrong idea,” Yousuke said calmly.
“In that case, you can rest assured. This transfer was purely 100 percent for my own sake and that alone,” I replied.
“Indeed…it seems that way,” replied Hirata. Given our current positions, I could no longer simply call him Yousuke.
Yes, it seems so on the surface, but things may be different deep down. Right now, Hirata didn’t seem to have that kind of read on the situation. This was a man who was more sensitive than others when it came to discord in class. I figured that he wouldn’t be greatly upset when he found out that I had transferred, since I was a presence that carried both benefits and drawbacks. If that presence were to disappear, it could lead to stable class management.
“Hold on, ‘it seems that way’? That’s not good enough, Hirata. At this rate, Ayanokouji’s really gonna transfer!” shouted Sudou.
“Good or bad, this was Ayanokouji-kun’s choice,” said Hirata. “Besides, since the school has confirmed the transfer and this wasn’t a mistake, it would take the same number of Private Points to call him back to our class. That’s not an amount that we could prepare right away.”
“If Ayanokouji regrets leavin’, I’ll give him all the points I have on me. C’mon, you guys!” shouted Sudou.
Sudou tried to come to a mutual understanding with all of the boys present. But, well, you didn’t even need to ask about Ike’s reaction, and Akito and Keisei weren’t going to immediately nod their heads in response. They probably didn’t think that they could even bring me back to their class, as I was acting coldly toward them. Since I had called attention to the fact that I had left willingly, they probably didn’t even feel like bringing me back either.
“Kiyotaka left the class of his own volition. We gotta respect that,” said Akito.
“But…!” protested Sudou.
Hirata turned from Sudou, who was about to hound me, to face me directly.
“I was wondering if you had some kind of message that needed to be passed on to everyone,” asked Hirata.
“Nope,” I replied.
“All right… Fine, then. I’m sorry to have taken up your time,” said Hirata.
Hirata obediently accepted everything I said and walked away. He probably wasn’t calm deep inside, but the situation wasn’t going to change for the better if he scraped and struggled at this point. Rather, he needed to focus on how to conduct himself in such a way that wouldn’t cause issues for his classmates.
“Suzune was countin’ on you. How can you truly hold your head high from tomorrow onward?” asked Sudou.
“Knock it off, Ken. We ought to head back too. We know that Ayanokouji chose to leave us,” said Ike.
Sudou bit his lower lip in frustration and headed back, with Ike pushing his back to urge him forward.
“Even though you left the class, we’re still friends. So, if you ever have any problems, you can come talk to me, any time,” said Akito.
With that, Akito headed back to the dormitory together with Keisei. I watched my former classmates leave and decided to make my return to the dormitory a little later.
Chapter 5: A Bystander’s Vantage Point
Chapter 5:
A Bystander’s Vantage Point
THE MORNING OF THE DAY after the opening ceremony, I had managed to quietly get to class without encountering any of my former classmates from the time I left the dormitory until I reached the school building. No wonder though, because I had started heading to school more than a half an hour earlier than usual. The reason for this was neither because I wanted to avoid attention nor a mere whim.
The first thing I needed to do was understand how Class C operated. In other words, I needed to figure out their classroom dynamics. I wanted to have information that I could only get from seeing and hearing them directly so that I could better understand them in a way I couldn’t get from just their values in OAA. To do that, I needed to take aggressive action, not sit and wait. Who got to class first each morning? Who arrived late? Which students talked a lot, which kept their mouths shut, who could read the room, and who couldn’t?
So today, I would observe and get to know these students. Arriving at my destination, the Class 3-C classroom, I slowly opened the door, which was likely unoccupied. However…
What I thought would be a head start was immediately spoiled. I had planned to arrive at the classroom earlier than anyone else did, but I hadn’t been first after all. In my field of vision, I saw a female student, sitting in the spot next to my seat, looking at her tablet. She turned at the sound of the door opening and looked at me, somewhat surprised. I hadn’t meant to be particularly loud when I opened the door, but I figured that she hadn’t expected the next student to come to the classroom so soon. However, the expression on her face as she looked at me quickly softened.
“Morning,” I said.
After a short pause, I sat down next to my seat neighbor, the first one to arrive: Shiraishi.
“Good morning,” she replied.
She responded with a proper greeting in a polite manner.
Shiraishi Asuka
Academic Ability B+ (76)
Physical Ability D (34)
Adaptability C+ (57)
Societal Contribution C- (44)
Overall Ability C (54)
Her academic ability was higher than average, but her physical ability was low, and she wasn’t the type of student who actively sought to communicate. She hardly struck me as the type of student who was close friends with students in other classes either. That was what little information I had about Shiraishi—what I saw in OAA and what I knew from the past two years. And now, I would once again commit her physical appearance and distinctive characteristics to memory.
The first thing that caught my attention was the mole under her right eye, along with her beautiful, long blonde hair framed by her hair band. She gave off a quiet, gentle, slightly melancholic vibe, and did not seem to be one to make a fuss. In fact, through the few encounters I had with Shiraishi over these past two years, I had never once felt that she had a loud, showy personality. Things had worked out somewhat differently from how I had planned, but this would be the kind of potential I was looking to harvest.
I didn’t know when a seating reassignment would be taking place, but it probably wasn’t going to be any time soon. If that was the case, then I could say that getting friendly with my neighbor was a tried-and-true approach to school life. Like the relationship that was forged two years ago by conversing with Horikita. Let’s walk that same path, this time based on two years’ worth of experience, I thought to myself. All that was left was figuring out how to break the ice…
The data I had on Shiraishi didn’t tell me a single thing about her personality, hobbies, or interests. Without a starting point to work from, it was necessary for me to do some fumbling around. As I approached my seat, I saw that Shiraishi had been studying in the classroom this morning. She appeared to be working on some kind of assignment on her tablet, with a pen in her hand. After a short pause, I called out to her.
I had passed by her several times over these past two years, but this was the first time I was going to try and start a conversation with her.
“I didn’t think anyone would’ve gotten here before me today. You’re here quite early,” I remarked.
“Yes…it is a little unusual for me, but I woke up early. You’re rather early this morning yourself, Ayanokouji-kun,” she replied.
She followed up on her earlier greeting with a similarly polite reply. Was that slight pause because she wasn’t used to me? Or perhaps she didn’t want to engage in chitchat but figured that she had no other choice but to since it was just the two of us. I still couldn’t read into those kinds of things yet.
“That’s because I just changed classes, so I’m kind of like a brand-new student, I guess. I figured it was probably better for me to be open and welcoming with the rest of the class before being welcomed myself,” I answered.
I decided to mix in my true feelings to a certain extent here and talk to Shiraishi until she explicitly started to dislike it. It’d be awkward maintaining silence in a classroom with two people all alone.
“This is a pretty funny coincidence, isn’t it? I mean, two people who are seat neighbors being the first to arrive,” said Shiraishi.
“Maybe so,” I replied.
Coincidence. It was an unintentional, slightly unusual overlap, to be sure. At the very least, it didn’t seem to be making Shiraishi uncomfortable. Now then, how should I keep this conversation going? Though she seemed open to chatting…I was unable to find the words after all, as expected. Various topics sprung to mind, but I wasn’t confident if it would really be okay for me to start talking about them. If Yousuke Hirata were in my situation, he wouldn’t have made her wait, and he probably would’ve moved the conversation forward with a calm, gentle nudge. And what’s more, he would have done so naturally, without even having to think about it.
While I hesitated, Shiraishi hit me with a perfectly natural question.
“Why did you decide to transfer to this class, Ayanokouji-kun?” she asked. “I cannot believe that someone would drop down to a lower-level class of their own accord after finally reaching Class A.”
“Considering what’s normal, yeah, maybe so,” I replied.
“Right, it’s not normal, so…why did you decide to transfer?”
I noticed that Shiraishi was looking straight at me with her beautifully colored eyes as she asked me that question. I figured that meant she desperately wanted to know the truth.
“Hashimoto and the others must have already explained it to you. I came to this class to offer my assistance,” I replied.
“Yes, of course I’ve heard that. However, no one has explained what kind of benefits your assistance will bring us, Ayanokouji-kun. I have also heard rumors, such as you had received a large number of Private Points behind the scenes or that you plan to receive them in the future.”
Without any hesitation, Shiraishi pried deeper into the matter. I wondered if the environment of a still-empty classroom was having an effect. The answer to her question was simple: It was to bring the four classes into a state of equilibrium. To do so, I needed to raise Class C and Class D’s ranks so that they could catch up with the top classes. To do from the inside what would be impossible from the outside. But that wasn’t something I could tell her just yet, when talk of the alliance still had yet to be brought to light.
“To be frank, most of us are still skeptical about how you will impact the class, Ayanokouji-kun. If your presence does have an impact, will you actually be someone capable of turning things around for us?” Shiraishi asked.
“It’s only natural to question things like that.”
“Debates are already swirling about whether or not you are necessary.”
“It’s too late for debating to be of any use. After all, the class could have objected and refused my transfer, right?”
“That is a harsh perspective. The class was in turmoil during spring vacation over the matter of Sakayanagi-san’s departure from school,” Shiraishi pointed out.
I had requested the consent of all members of Class C as one of the conditions for my transfer. The students of Class C, a class weakened with Sakayanagi’s absence, were mentally overwhelmed and wanted a plan to rebuild as soon as possible. Even putting aside the question of whether the person they knew as Ayanokouji Kiyotaka was capable or not, it wasn’t a bad idea for them to take me in solely from the perspective of filling in a loss in the number of students. Hashimoto had paid for much of my transfer, but still, the individual cost for the rest of the class wasn’t cheap. It was only natural for them to expect me to deliver commensurate results in exchange for what they paid.
“It’s certainly true that few students would go from A to C by choice,” I told her.
“I had thought it might have been similar to what happened with Katsuragi-kun’s, but his situation happened because he had lost his place in this class. Not to mention his desire for revenge against Sakayanagi-san,” said Shiraishi.
“In that case, aren’t you considering the possibility that I have some friction with Class A?” I asked. I deliberately decided not to give the answers she sought and instead responded with questions of my own.
“I am not. My interpretation is that you were relied upon by the members of Class A, and that you had fit into the class well,” said Shiraishi.
It sounded like she was just randomly stringing together words of praise for me, but there was something that told me she may have really meant it. I figured it was better that I took what she said at face value to encourage her to continue talking.
“I didn’t think other classes would observe anything like that,” I replied.
“It is surprising what you can see from the outside. Moreover, you were entrusted with important roles in the final special exams in our first and second years. You would have needed both trust and confidence in order for that to have happened.”
“I see. Then, how do you interpret my transfer, Shiraishi?”
“As I said, I hold you in high regard, Ayanokouji-kun, so I honestly have great hopes for you. Hashimoto-kun and Morishita-san do as well. And the students who endeavored to help with the transfer seem to hold you in even higher regard than I do. In addition—” said Shiraishi, stopping suddenly.
“In addition?” I asked.
Shiraishi’s words, pregnant with implication, were interrupted by a male student who had burst through the door.
“H-hey there, Shiraishi. Morning.”
“Good morning, Yoshida-kun,” said Shiraishi.
Though they were seated far apart, Yoshida called out to Shiraishi as soon as he entered the classroom. He then shot me a sharp look, put his bag on his desk, and approached me.
“What’s up, Ayanokouji? You’re here awfully early,” he remarked.
“Not really. Actually, I was planning to be here first this morning, but Shiraishi got here before I did,” I replied.
“Then starting tomorrow, you come to class as soon as the gate is open. Part of you setting an example is to arrive before anyone else does. You should keep it up until you’re accepted by everybody in the class,” Yoshida ordered.
“Is that right,” I replied.
We were allowed into the school as early as 7:15 a.m. That was a bit extreme, but I supposed it certainly might be nice to do that for a while.
“That is a bit harsh, don’t you think?” said Shiraishi.
Just as I was about to respond to Yoshida in the affirmative, Shiraishi had gently come forward and spoke up in my defense.
“Moreover, when you say, ‘accepted by everyone in class,’ to what degree are you suggesting?” asked Shiraishi.
“Oh, well, uh, I didn’t really think it through that far…” said Yoshida.
Yoshida was left bewildered by the unexpected counterattack and couldn’t hide his confusion.
“If you were inclined to be mean, you alone could go on not accepting him forever,” Shiraishi retorted.
“I-I wouldn’t do that!” he sputtered.
“If it’s a misunderstanding, then shouldn’t you retract your previous statement?” replied Shiraishi.
“A-all right. I take back what I just said, so forget it!” said Yoshida. Overwhelmed, his voice had risen to a shout.
“Good. Knowing you, I was sure you would understand, Yoshida-kun,” said Shiraishi.
“W-well, yeah, I thought I might’ve gone a little too far, I guess,” he replied.
“I see. That reminds me. You’re a popular student, Yoshida-kun. Why not support Ayanokouji-kun by helping him get to know his classmates?” suggested Shiraishi.
“Huh? What? M-me, help Ayanokouji?”
“Is that all right?”
“N-no, it’s not! Don’t take advantage of me!” he hollered.
Yoshida was popular in class. I made a note of that in my head, but I wasn’t sure if that was actually true or just an attempt to flatter him.
“Oh, so you won’t? All right then, in that case, though it may be forward and presumptuous of me, perhaps I can volunteer for the role. Even though I can’t connect you with the boys, Ayanokouji-kun, I think I can connect you with the girls. Sometime in the near future, even if it’s on one of our days off, I can introduce you to some new friends. Would you mind accompanying me when that time comes?” asked Shiraishi.
There’s an expression that goes “the early bird gets the worm,” and they might have been exactly right when they said that. There didn’t seem to be any reason for me to refuse Shiraishi’s godsend proposal.
“If you’re offering, then sure, I think I’ll take you up on that,” I replied.
“H-hey, wait a minute! Well, looks like I don’t have any other choice, so I’ll lend you a hand, Ayanokouji,” said Yoshida.
Yoshida, who said not to take advantage of him and refused to help me out, now retracted his previous statement, leaning forward as he spoke.
“Are you sure, Yoshida-kun?” asked Shiraishi.
“Well, I mean, I felt kinda bad when I turned down the welcome party yesterday. It must’ve taken a lot of guts to transfer to another class when we were enemies just a while ago, too. So he needs support, right? So, you guys wanna do this on a day off sometime? I’m good whenever,” offered Yoshida, directing a smile at…not me, but Shiraishi.
“I see. I’ll contact you when we decide on a date, then,” she replied.
“Okay! Don’t let yourself get sick or anything before then, Ayanokouji!” Yoshida exclaimed.
He was directing such incredible passion my way that I decided to just nod my head in earnest for the time being. Shortly afterward, the students of Class C began to appear one after another, and Yoshida hurriedly returned to his own seat.
“Yoshida-kun is quite a simple guy, isn’t he?” said Shiraishi quietly.
She said those words in a quiet murmur as she casually looked over in Yoshida’s direction. She then turned her focus back toward me.
“He likes me,” she added.
“It…sure seems that way,” I replied.
It was obvious that he had a considerable degree of affection for her, but it was unusual to see a case where the person on the receiving end of that affection was so certain of it.
“That’s why he couldn’t stand the idea of me spending a day off with another boy. Or perhaps he got his hopes up, thinking that he can make some progress with me. Though even if a day comes when Yoshida-kun and I are the only human beings left on Earth, I still wouldn’t choose him.”
While she was aware that she was popular with someone of the opposite sex, she wasn’t even the slightest bit happy about it. Was that the natural way things usually went? Or was it simply that she wasn’t interested in a member of the opposite sex that she didn’t like herself?
“Please tell me the reason why you transferred next time,” said Shiraishi.
Immediately after shifting her gaze, Shiraishi smiled at me, showing me that she hadn’t forgotten about me. Maybe “just a kind neighbor” wasn’t going to be the end of my analysis of Shiraishi after all.
5.1
IT WAS NOW SATURDAY, my first day off since transferring classes. Even though I had moved up a grade, and even though my class had changed, my plans for the day were basically the same as usual. Thinking about going over to the gym after I finished breakfast, I picked up my phone and noticed that I had a message.
“If you’re interested, would you like to go to the gym together today?”
It was an invitation from Ichinose, who was also a fellow gym-goer. Since I had been planning to make an appearance at the gym regardless of whether or not I had received this message, I replied saying sure, and saw that my reply was read immediately. After a few messages back and forth, we decided to meet up directly at the gym, and I got dressed before heading out. Students waiting for stores in Keyaki Mall to open were gathered in sparse groups here and there by the entrance, and while I was trying to kill time a slight distance away from them, Housen Kazuomi, a student from Class 2-D with whom I usually didn’t interact with, approached me.
Thanks to his intimidating looks and well-endowed physique, the new first-year students nearby put some distance between themselves and him, almost as though they were running away. Last year, we second-years had an exchange with the first-years as soon as the year began. This year, however, no one knew the names or faces of any of the new first-year students yet, as we hadn’t yet had the opportunity to get acquainted.
It wouldn’t be surprising if there were some amazingly talented people who came to this school, but… While I was thinking about that, Housen appeared right before my eyes. He was one of the students who had truly caught my eye in a big way last spring.
“Yo, Ayanokouji-paisen. Been a lot of big talk goin’ ’round lately. Somethin’ ’bout an idiot senpai who willingly transferred into Class C, which is on the way down. The hell you trynna do, anyway?” said Housen.
He suddenly butted into my personal space and asked me that question, but I noticed that his smile didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t seem to be extremely interested in the topic at hand.
“Hm, I wonder,” I replied.
When I deliberately answered like it wasn’t my problem, Housen gave a slight smirk and then came even closer.
“Hah! Well, whatever,” he spat.
Apparently, that really hadn’t been what he was after. Dropping all pretenses, Housen continued speaking.
“It’s jus’, well, feels like my arms are losin’ their edge lately, y’know? So I’m lookin’ for somebody who can be my sandbag. Got any ideas?” asked Housen. He rotated one of his big arms once in an arc as he gave me that thinly veiled statement.
“Sorry, but I’m not planning on getting into a physical altercation with you,” I replied.
“The hell? Killjoy,” he spat.
“If that’s the kind of thing you want, you could ask Ryuuen,” I offered.
I had thought I provided him with an excellent alternative, but Housen expressed his frustration with an exaggerated sigh.
“Dude’s a chicken-shit asshole who won’t fight one-on-one,” he replied.
“In that case, you could face multiple opponents. That would likely be exciting,” I answered.
“Once, maybe, sure. But it’s a pain in the ass to be busy twenty-four-seven,” said Housen.
If Housen made a move on Ryuuen, there was a good chance that he’d win right then and there. But Ryuuen would come after him to get revenge at any time, no method too cowardly. Apparently, even Housen could predict at least that much. They had a direct run-in with each other during the Uninhabited Island Exam, but there haven’t been any disturbances since then, at least not on the level that the school would need to intervene in.
Most likely, no one at this school, with the exception of the first-year students who didn’t know any better, would throw hands at Ryuuen for the fun of it. In that sense, you could say that he was building an effective means of defense.
“By the way, does it seem like your class will be moving up to Class C?” I asked.
Since there wasn’t any point in just talking about unsettling topics this whole time, I decided to casually ask about the state of affairs of the second-years. Housen and the rest had gone through a year without any of the classes changing ranks. However, all of their classes, including D, were still in a position where they had a sufficient chance of victory.
“Dunno. Don’t matter to me none, as long as I can get money. I’m gonna let Nanase deal with all that stuff,” replied Housen.
“Nanase? I didn’t think you were the type of person who could entrust others with things like that. But that’s a good decision. She seems like she’d be a more efficient leader than you, Housen.”
“I didn’t say all that! And hold up, the hell is that about? What, you sayin’ you wanna go, with me? In that case—”
Unsurprisingly, Housen immediately tried to bring the course of the conversation back toward violence.
“Ayanokouji.”
As I was face-to-face with a hot-blooded Housen, a somewhat nervous Chabashira-sensei appeared. Housen clicked his tongue softly at the appearance of a teacher interrupting his threats and began to walk away.
“Later, Paisen. I’ll go play with some interesting lookin’ first-years for a while. After that, yer gonna be my opponent!” said Housen.
“No, I really won’t,” I replied—just softly enough so that he wouldn’t be able to hear me.
As soon as I had finished stating my reply to Housen’s back, Chabashira-sensei grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward her.
“Come with me for a minute,” she said.
Exerting forcible pressure on me, Chabashira-sensei guided me over to a corner of the floor.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I…wanted to talk to you. As your homeroom teacher…well, no, former homeroom teacher, I thought it would be imprudent of me to contact you, but I felt the need to speak with you,” she said.
Though Chabashira-sensei openly expressed the feelings she had been holding onto, there was no urgency in her expression; she had probably been pondering quite a lot this week.
“So that’s why you’ve been following me since I left the dormitory earlier,” I remarked.
“You…noticed?”
“Well, it was pretty easy to tell.”
Her ability to tail others was at about the same level as Morishita’s. And I couldn’t say that was what I would describe as “good,” even if I was being nice.
“You didn’t even have any guarantee that I would’ve been going out this morning, though. Since what time have you been waiting?” I asked.
Even though you could say it was getting warmer, it was still cold in the morning. It was chilly enough that one might catch a cold if they weren’t careful, but that didn’t seem to be a concern for Chabashira-sensei.
“Who cares about that? What I want to know is why. Why you transferred classes. How could you make the decision to transfer without saying anything? What are you playing at?” she asked.
“About my transfer, hm? Honestly, I’ve been asked that same thing so often that I feel like my ears are going to fall off. Everyone’s been asking me that, regardless of gender or grade level,” I replied.
However, Chabashira-sensei was the first teacher to hound me for answers. I was sure that was because, if you considered things from a teacher’s perspective, they wouldn’t have the time to look into each and every student’s movement or transfer.
“Explain to me what the hell is going on here!” she snapped.
“Even if you’re demanding an explanation from me, you’re kind of putting me in a tight spot here. There shouldn’t be any issue with a student exercising their legitimate right to transfer classes,” I replied.
There was no obligation whatsoever to talk about the details. I was also sure that Chabashira-sensei, who was well aware of that fact, wasn’t going to back down without a fight, though.
“So you can’t say anything about it…? You were faced with some trouble, and you had no choice but to transfer? That’s it, isn’t it?” she replied.
“Did I say that?”
“Well…”
When I asked her that question in return, Chabashira-sensei choked on her words, unable to clearly articulate a rebuttal.
“There is one thing I want to tell you,” I said. “Remember that I told you I’d do something about Hoshinomiya-sensei? Please rest assured that that matter has been resolved. I don’t think she’ll run amok and cause any trouble for the teachers or the school anymore.”
“You…!” she snapped.
It was as if she unconsciously blurted the word out when the impulse overtook her. That was the kind of behavior she was demonstrating. However, perhaps because she had been unable to hold herself back, she grabbed onto both my shoulders and opened her mouth to speak.
“Was it because of me? Maybe, since I was troubled over my issue with Chie, you…you sacrificed yourself in order to resolve things? That’s it, isn’t it?” she asked.
“I thought that you might think that way, Chabashira-sensei. But don’t worry. I already intended to transfer classes even before the issue of Hoshinomiya-sensei came up,” I replied.
She looked into my eyes to try and see if that was the truth or not. But she probably wasn’t going to be able to shake off the fear that I may have been covering things up with a lie. Still, she should have been able to tell that I had no hesitation and not a single shred of regret.
“It doesn’t…seem like you care, from the sounds of it,” she remarked.
“Correct. Early on, I had narrowed down my choices to either Class C or Class D. It’s not as though I was dissatisfied with my teacher or with the class I was in,” I replied.
“What reason do you have for this? Why would you do something that makes no logical sense…?”
“Whether it makes sense or not depends on where you stand. You do know that I’m not fixated on the idea of graduating from Class A, right?”
“I do…”
“This transfer was completely for my own sake. I decided that it would have been difficult for me to carry out the things I need to accomplish at this school if I were to stay in your class, Chabashira-sensei. However, I cannot allow you to find out what it is that I need to accomplish at this time.”
If I told her, she could probably recognize that I had transferred via my own real intentions. However, I wasn’t going to go overboard with the supplementary information. That was because it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Chabashira-sensei would inform Horikita and the other students about what I told her here.
“It’s almost time for me to hit the gym, so if you’ll please excuse me,” I announced.
At any rate, as a teacher, she probably wouldn’t be allowed to press things any further. She nodded quietly, desperately trying to remain stoic.
“I…understand. All right…sorry to have taken up your time,” said Chabashira-sensei.
I left Chabashira-sensei as she stood there motionless and headed to the gym on the second floor.
5.2
IT WAS AROUND NOON, and Keyaki Mall was full of students as lunchtime approached. After parting ways with Ayanokouji out in front of the gym, Ichinose took the escalator down to the first floor by herself, as she had promised her friends from class that she’d go out to eat with them at twelve thirty.
“Ichinose-senpaaaai!”
As she was on her way to her destination, Ichinose was approached by Amasawa Ichika of Class 2-A. Although the two of them didn’t have a deep connection, they were on friendly enough terms to be able to chat with each other from time to time. When Amasawa approached Ichinose with an innocent grin on her face, Ichinose responded in kind with a genuine smile.
“Sooo, did you go to the gym today?” asked Amasawa.
Without so much as a proper hello, Amasawa looked up toward the gym on the second floor and asked Ichinose that question.
“Yep, I did. Just for about an hour though,” said Ichinose.
“I think I’ll start going too. Feels like my body’s gotten all sluggish lately.”
“Really? Well, if you’re interested, how about dropping by sometime for a trial or tour? I’d be happy to go with you, if you’d like.”
“But I’m kinda crazy with spending my money, so my monthly expenses are a wee bit out of control.”
“They’ve got plans that keep costs down though, just so you know.”
“For real? Oh, that reminds me, Ayanokouji-senpai’s going to the gym too, right?” asked Amasawa. As she abruptly mentioned Ayanokouji’s name, she had a twinkle in her eye.
“Yep, that’s right. Ayanokouji was also interested in going to the gym, actually. I invited him to come along with me today,” said Ichinose.
“Oh ho, I see. In that case, then I think I’ll seriously noodle on the idea,” said Amasawa.
Ichinose continued looking Amasawa in the eye without losing her smile.
“Hm? Does Ayanokouji-kun being there have anything to do with potentially joining?” asked Ichinose.
“Of course it does. Because I totally love Ayanokouji-senpai like crazy,” Amasawa said with a cute expression on her face as she made a heart symbol using both hands.
“Huh?” Ichinose’s eyes widened in surprise at (what seemed like?) an unexpected declaration of love from a kouhai.
“Oh, like, of course, I mean that as in I like him as my senpai, okay? Not like I have romantic feelings for him or anything.”
“Got it.”
Ichinose maintained her smile while facing Amasawa. She wondered why Amasawa suddenly mentioned Ayanokouji’s name and why she’d make a suggestive remark like that. Ichinose felt a little uneasy about Amasawa’s statements, as those kinds of things had rarely been brought up in their relationship before now. The sparkle in Amasawa’s eyes gleamed sharply in response to the slight change in Ichinose’s disposition.
“Actually, that was a lie. The truth is it’s more like I like like him, as in, like, total romantic love,” said Amasawa, finally putting a stop to beating around the bush and saying her feelings straight out, without any filter.
“Are you maybe…asking me for help with something?” asked Ichinose.
A confession of love for a senior student. If Amasawa wanted Ichinose to help her with that, then she could understand the flow of the conversation. Ichinose had thought that’s what this was, but Amasawa immediately shook her head no and denied it.
“Oh, no, I don’t have the courage to tell him how I feel. But you know, when I see you and Ayanokouji-senpai being so close lately, I can’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous. Are you two in a relationship, by any chance?”
“Me? No, I don’t have that kind of relationship with Ayanokouji-kun.”
Ichinose denied things in a calm and composed manner, but Amasawa’s suspicions intensified.
“Is that really true? But you’re so cute, Senpai! I wonder if I’d even be a match for you if we were going after the same guy.”
“It is true, so you don’t need to worry.”
Ichinose answered seriously and earnestly, as Amasawa unnaturally contorted her face to appear as if she was crying.
“You’re…not lying, are you? You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Ichinose-senpai?” Amasawa stammered.
“Of course I wouldn’t. But anyway, on that topic, going to the gym might be a good idea. It could also be a good opportunity for you to get closer to Ayanokouji-kun,” suggested Ichinose.
Though Ichinose had continued to respond to Amasawa in a mature, adult manner throughout this entire conversation, Amasawa, who had persistently talked about her crush on Ayanokouji, felt her emotions toward Ichinose shift to something different than the impression that she had previously had of her. Amasawa figured that Ichinose was thinking something like She’s sensing something is up and is trying to probeme. Continuing her act, Amasawa nodded happily with a “Yes, yes,” before closing the distance between herself and Ichinose.
“Ichinose-senpai, do you think you’ve gotten a bit full of yourself lately?”
Amasawa, who had played the part of a good girl up until this point, lowered her voice to spew venom at Ichinose. Amasawa was clearly trying to take a swipe at Ichinose, wanting to peel away Ichinose’s angelic exterior. A normal person would have been shocked or recoiled at Amasawa’s sudden change and would’ve responded to her bold move. But Ichinose stayed the course.
“If I come across that way, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that at all…” Ichinose calmly answered.
Even though I doubt she could have foreseen being hit with a question like that, if she couldn’t foresee it, then she’s much too calm, Amasawa thought as she analyzed Ichinose’s surprising response.
“You know, I am very perceptive. I thought it might be a little, I dunno, unsophisticated of me to come out and ask this directly, but Ichinose-senpai, you had something going on with Ayanokouji-senpai, didn’t you?” asked Amasawa.
“Something? Not really, but…anyway, you really do care about Ayanokouji-kun a great deal, don’t you?”
“I told you already, didn’t I? I love senpai. That’s exactly why I can understand. Ichinose-senpai, aren’t you getting a little too fired up?” asked Amasawa.
“Fired up?”
Amasawa, almost completely ignoring Ichinose’s response, continued speaking.
“Because…you slept with Ayanokouji-senpai, didn’t you?” asked Amasawa.
After getting Ichinose to insist that she wouldn’t lie to her, Amasawa threw the bomb that she had kept up her sleeve at Ichinose. Amasawa obviously couldn’t know whether or not Ichinose actually had had a physical encounter with Ayanokouji, but she always kept a sharp eye on those around Ayanokouji. She saw how Ichinose seemed dejected after the End-of-Year-Special Exam and how she was back on her feet today. She saw the distance between Ichinose and Ayanokouji and the smile she had when Amasawa saw her at the café after the opening ceremony.
She had no doubt that there was some impetus behind her elated mood, and she was certain that Ayanokouji was involved. Therefore, she felt it wouldn’t have been surprising if certain acts had been key to her recovery, acts which couldn’t be spoken of to others. Using this angle, Amasawa was trying to trick Ichinose into revealing the truth by asking a leading question. She didn’t care if it was really true—she just wanted to see Ichinose upset.
“I’m not sure that would have anything to do with me being fired up,” said Ichinose.
“Oh? You’re not denying it? I’m majorly surprised, for real,” said Amasawa.
“You were the one who asked me not to lie, Amasawa-san,” Ichinose reminded her.
Early on, Ichinose had a hunch that Amasawa was speaking with malicious intent. However, as her senpai, she tried to conduct herself in such a way to not hurt Amasawa’s feelings. Also, though Ichinose felt it selfish of her to assume so, as a friend.
“Hmmm, I seeee. True,” said Amasawa.
It would’ve been easier for Amasawa to keep on smiling until the end of the conversation and play nice, but she changed her mind. Even if the truth of Ichinose’s statement was unclear, she shouldn’t run away and try to suss out the truth head-on.
“So you’re admitting that you slept with him then?” asked Amasawa.
Ichinose smiled in lieu of a response, her lips remaining sealed.
“Does that mean you were lying to me? So you two are dating?” pressed Amasawa.
“Ayanokouji-kun and I are not dating,” said Ichinose.
“Ohhh? But that’s a contradiction. Don’t tell me you slept with Senpai even though you don’t have that kind of relationship with him. Did you?”
“I have a firm bond with Ayanokouji-kun. I guess that’s all there is to it.”
“A ‘firm’ b-bond…pffft, heh heh!” sputtered Amasawa. Her eyes narrowed as she laughed aggressively. “I knew it, you really have been getting fired up, Ichinose-senpai! You ought to face reality a bit more.”
“Reality?”
“I mean, Ayanokouji-senpai enjoyed that attractive body of yours to the fullest, Ichinose-senpai. But it’s naive of you to think that you formed a bond with him through that alone. You’re so clueless! If he enjoys you as much as he wants, he’ll end up getting tired of you. I hope that you won’t get too fired up about things, because I think a future where you and that ‘bond’ you speak of are tossed aside awaits you. When you no longer have any value to him, you’ll probably get chucked out with the trash, just like Karuizawa-senpai.”
Amasawa let loose, hoping to provoke Ichinose with her cruel statements. Ichinose took her words to mean that she’d come to regret it if she got too close to Ayanokouji.
“Amasawa-san, do you have a favorite treat? Like one you only eat on special occasions,” asked Ichinose.
“Huh? A favorite treat?” asked Amasawa, then laughed at the sudden change in topic. “Cake, I guess.”
She had pictured several things in her head and gave a serious answer about what came to mind.
“And when you eat cake, you think about how you want to eat it again sometime, right?” asked Ichinose.
“Well, yeah, sure,” said Amasawa.
“But if you could eat that cake every day, whenever you wanted, then…well, no matter how much you love that food, you’d probably end up getting tired of it, right?”
“Of course I’d get tired of it. I’d probably not even want to see it for a while.”
Ichinose and Amasawa nodded to each other in agreement.
“That’s why you can’t let yourself eat it too much,” Ichinose said. “It’s exactly because it’s your favorite that you should only eat it on special occasions. You have to hold yourself back until the desire to eat it grows irresistible. That desire grows stronger because even though it’s right there in front of you, you can’t have it. Once you know what it tastes like, then…”
Nothing had changed. Ichinose still directed a kind, gentle smile at her kouhai. However, underneath that smile, Amasawa felt that she could spot Ichinose’s hidden essence.
“I think you’re trying to say that you’re like a special cake or something, but wow, that comes across as super self-absorbed, you know?” Amasawa said. “Besides, can something like that really work out? The other person here is Ayanokouji-senpai, right? If he were thinking about this situation like any normal guy, he’d think that you’re sweeter than cake.”
“You sure know a lot about Ayanokouji-kun, don’t you, Amasawa-san?” asked Ichinose.
“Yeah, I guess. More than you anyway, right, Ichinose-senpai? He’s the type of person who has a lot of things to hide, you know?” said Amasawa.
For the first time in this conversation, Ichinose took her eye off of Amasawa and looked around. Then, she returned her gaze back to Amasawa, her smiling visage unchanged.
“There are no secrets between me and Ayanokouji-kun anymore,” said Ichinose.
Ichinose firmly expressed her stance, that she believed in Ayanokouji and didn’t doubt him. Hearing this, Amasawa couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing, this time clutching her stomach with both hands.
“Ah ha ha ha! That is a hilarious joke, Ichinose-senpai. You’re so cute, thinking that just because you got to sleep with Ayanokouji-kun that you know everything. I think I’m starting to fall for you myself!”
“It’s true that you can’t possibly know everything about someone just because you have a physical relationship. But isn’t your situation the same? You have some kind of special connection with Ayanokouji-kun yourself, Amasawa-san. But isn’t this connection just you feeling like you know him?”
“Hm? Listen. At the very least, here in this school, I’m the one who understands Ayanokouji-senpai the absolute best out of—”
“Ayanokouji-kun told me a lot more than you think, Amasawa-san. He told me a lot,” stated Ichinose.
Amasawa eyed Ichinose suspiciously, but Ichinose continued speaking without any hesitation.
“He really did…about things like the White Room, for example,” added Ichinose.
“Huh?” blinked Amasawa.
Amasawa had been smiling like she was having fun during the entire conversation thus far, as she saw herself in a position of dominance, but this revelation caused her expression to stiffen for a moment. However, she quickly unfroze and proceeded as she had been.
“Come on, enough joking around, Ichinose-senpai. Ayanokouji-senpai…would never talk about those things with an outsider,” said Amasawa.
“That’s probably true,” said Ichinose.
Amasawa’s heart rate would have remained stable if she weren’t in a tight spot right now. However, things were different now that two words that never, ever would have been spoken out of a random whim were uttered.
“Hold on. Really? Ayanokouji-senpai really told you about the White Room?” asked Amasawa.
There was no way something like that was possible. Even if it weren’t forbidden to talk about, Amasawa was 100 percent sure that he never would have talked about the White Room to an unrelated student from his school life, wherein he was looking for a mundane, everyday routine.
“So I guess you and I now share a common secret, Amasawa-san,” said Ichinose.
“No, wait, hold on. How much did you hear from Senpai?” asked Amasawa.
The smile had receded from Amasawa’s face before she even realized it herself. Ichinose remained unwavering, even in the face of a now-flustered Amasawa.
“I’m not sure if I can say. Maybe in some ways, I know as much as or more than you, Amasawa-san,” said Ichinose.
“There’s no way. Because, I… Ayanokouji-senpai, he…?” sputtered Amasawa.
Ichinose smiled inwardly. All she had done was mention the unfamiliar words “White Room,” which she happened to have heard by sheer coincidence during the Uninhabited Island Exam in her second year. At the time, Ayanokouji said that he didn’t know anything about it, and even now, he hadn’t told Ichinose a single truth about it. However, based on Amasawa’s attitude, Ichinose inferred that she herself knew about Ayanokouji in ways others didn’t, and there was a possibility that it was related to this so-called “White Room.” If Amasawa had no connection whatsoever with the words “White Room,” that would have still given her the advantage of knowing Ayanokouji better than Amasawa did, so she would’ve been fine either way.
All the words meant to her was that a room was white in a literal sense. Ichinose had imagined that it was possible it could have been the name of a school with a high level of education or some kind of nickname for a place, but this conversation had revealed that Amasawa had most likely come from there as well. Ichinose, having learned one more thing about Ayanokouji, was enveloped in warm feelings.
“I’m going to be meeting up with some friends soon, so I’m going to head off now,” said Ichinose. “Oh, but about the gym, if you want to check it out, you can always come and talk to me. I’ll be waiting.”
With that, Ichinose started to walk away.
“Oh, damn… I think maybe I’m the one feeling heated now,” muttered Amasawa.
A little later, Amasawa, wearing a wry smile, pinched her cheek hard. She had only talked to Ichinose because she wanted to tease her, but it had the opposite effect. Amasawa realized that she had been countered in spectacular fashion, and that she had ended up getting teased.
“Whoa, I’ve got goosebumps. So, she’s not just any ol’ big-titty senpai that Ayanokouji had sex with, now is she?” she said to herself.
As soon as Amasawa started walking, she stopped again.
“Ayanokouji-senpai is a guy, after all, so maybe he’s ended up turning into a lapdog for big-titty senpai after she made him wait for it…? Hah, as if. There’s no way something like that would happen,” chuckled Amasawa.
Even so, Amasawa changed her mind about Ichinose, who she hadn’t taken seriously at all up until this point. It was undeniably Ayanokouji who had inspired Ichinose to change, but it was through her very own efforts that the change actually happened.
“Nice. The battle between the third-years seems like it’s gonna get more interesting. Aaaall right. I gotta put in some serious work myself, then. To make my beloved Ayanokouji-senpai happy.”
There was meaning in her remaining time at this school. In order to not waste that, Amasawa started walking again, that purpose clear in her mind.
Chapter 6: Mixture
Chapter 6:
Mixture
IT HAD BEEN A WEEK since the curtain had risen on our third year. Before the morning homeroom began, I sat alone and listened to the voices around me. With one person missing, the view was certainly different. But this sad change was beginning to be forgotten, like nothing ever happened in the first place. His name was quickly mentioned less and less with each passing day by the students who had had little relationship with him.
Such was the passage of time. I supposed this was a good example of how time eroded the sting of difficult emotions, whether it was sadness or anger. I was forced to understand this fact, albeit reluctantly. Time was trying to fix things, as if the two years that Ayanokouji-kun had been here never happened in the first place. The same was true for Yamauchi-kun, Sakura-san, and Maezono-san as well.
No one was going to reminisce about a student who disappeared from the class. But that wasn’t necessarily the case for the students who were close to him, myself included. Rather, it was the opposite—we were painfully aware of the cruelty and heartlessness of time. The fact that he was gone was sinking in more deeply for us every day. Matsushita-san was smiling less often and speaking less, and Sudou-kun was becoming irritable more often at the slightest things, just like he used to a long time ago.
As for me… What kind of effect did this have on me? I wondered. I couldn’t even look at myself objectively anymore. I was desperate to keep up appearances as a student of Class A by acting calm and collected, though I didn’t know how effectively I was doing that. While fighting the kind of anxiety that made me feel as if I might lose track of the boundary between reality and unreality, I was once again resuming my days of hunkering down at my desk and engaging in my studies.
I felt incredibly heavy, and it was hard to breathe. My spirit was strained, as if I had lost a precious part of my body. I just couldn’t shake off this sensation. Why did things turn out this way? Why couldn’t he stay in this class? Was this an uncomfortable place for him? I didn’t know. No matter how many times I thought about it, I couldn’t find the answers.
It was certainly true that I was still inexperienced compared to the other class leaders. Which was exactly why, even if he felt like it was a nuisance, I wanted him to be kind and stay with me, always watching things play out by my side. Was it that he simply grew tired of playing that role, acting like he was a babysitter? If I had my act together more, would he have stayed?
My words, which hadn’t reached him: “I’m not saying that I want you to help me with everything. I just want you to stand by me the whole time and watch…”
Thinking back on it now, it might have been a good thing that he didn’t hear the thought I expressed at the victory party, as it was a wish that was never going to come true. Or…I wonder if he would’ve given up on the transfer if my hopes had reached him.
I managed to somehow just barely hold back the sigh that was about to spontaneously come out of my mouth, so no one ended up hearing it. This was a reality that was difficult to accept. I haven’t had my feet on the ground in a long time now. Time simply passed by indifferently, without stopping, my equilibrium lost. Finally, the chime rang, signifying the beginning of morning homeroom.
Chabashira-sensei, appearing in the classroom, had returned to being a normal teacher, which I couldn’t have ever imagined happening since the day of the opening ceremony. Perhaps she had gone back to normal because she had already put the matter of the transfer behind her, or perhaps she was simply trying not to think about it. In the not-too-distant future, even Sudou-kun and the others in class would start moving forward in much the same way.
Then what about me?
Would a day come where I would get used to it too?
I couldn’t imagine that very well.
What am I… What am I doing here, in this place?
What should I do from now on?
Earlier, when I couldn’t even fathom the idea of Ayanokouji-kun leaving the class, I believed that I could face any fight head-on. But being here, in this place, without Ayanokouji-kun, for the next year…
I…
“Were you listening, Horikita?”
“Huh?” I blinked.
I noticed that Chabashira-sensei was looking at me as she spoke. Some of the surrounding students were also looking in my direction.
“I’m going to announce a special exam now, so don’t space out. Listen carefully,” said Chabashira-sensei.
“I’m sorry. Go ahead, I’m paying attention,” I replied.
That was a lie. I hadn’t heard a single thing she said. I wasn’t even aware that Chabashira-sensei was speaking in the first place. I needed to concentrate on the teacher’s words… No matter how much you suffer, no matter how long you stand still, the world around you will not wait for you. What the teacher said just now was…that there’s a special exam just around the corner. While I still couldn’t get my thoughts in order, the time had come for our first special exam of our third year. I briefly shook my head from side to side and then stared at the monitor.
Special Exam Overview
Whole Class & Small Group Comprehensive Academic Ability Test
Summary
A written exam featuring random questions from twenty-one subjects across seven disciplines (one hundred questions total; a perfect score is one hundred points)
Class vs. class competition in two categories: Whole Class and Small Group
Whole Class Competition
A written exam in which everyone in the class participates.
The class with the highest total score will be deemed the winner; counts as two victories.
In the event classes are equal in overall points, both classes will each be awarded one victory and the match will be treated as a tie.
If there is a difference in the number of students between classes, the class with fewer students will be given additional points equal to that of the lowest-scoring student in the class.
The school’s response for students who are absent on that day or who leave class partway through the exam due to excusable reasons, such as illness, will be handled in the same manner.
Small Group Competition
Five students will participate as representatives of their respective classes.
Student positions will be decided from first to fifth; students in the respective allocated positions will compete with one another for points.
One victory will be awarded to the class for every student who wins by getting the highest score.
In the event both students have the same score, it will result in a tie and no win will be awarded to either class.
Small Group Competition-Specific Rules
It is possible for classes to penalize a designated student; all students from the opposing class are targetable.
Each class has one hundred penalties that can be inflicted in the initial stage.
Students who receive a penalty will have one point deducted from their test results per penalty.
There is no limit to the number of students who can be penalized and there is no limit on the number of penalties that can be inflicted on a student (up to a maximum of one hundred penalties on a single student).
(Additional penalties may be purchased individually up until the day before the exam; the cost is fifty thousand Private Points per penalty.)
Penalties can be inflicted up until the day before the exam and must be communicated to the homeroom teacher of each class.
Who penalties have been inflicted upon and how many penalties have been inflicted will be disclosed only to the students who participate in the Small Group Competition
* Note: The effects of these penalties will be nullified in the OAA evaluation which will later reflect this competition score in addition to the Whole Class Competition score.
Wins and Losses
Classes will compete over the two victories from the Whole Class Competition and the five victories from the Small Group Competition; the class with the highest number of victories will win.
In the event both classes come out with three victories, three losses, and one tie, the rewards will be divided between the classes equally.
Rewards
The winning class will be awarded one hundred Class Points (fifty Class Points will be awarded to both classes in the event of a tie).
An additional fifty Class Points will be awarded to a class that achieves a perfect seven victories.
A negative fifty Class-Point penalty will be inflicted on a class that suffers seven total losses.
As far as I could understand from what I had read, it was a tried-and-true written exam. Basically, what was required of us was pure academic ability. However, there was a possibility that the unique rules added to the exam could make an enormous difference between who won and who lost.
“It’s been decided that the class you’ll be competing against this time is Class 3-D. Also, the exam will be held in two weeks. That isn’t that much time to prepare, but everyone is equal in that regard, so I ask that you refrain from complaining,” Chabashira-sensei announced.
Class 3-D. In other words, Ichinose-san’s class. As I thought about it, I felt like that wasn’t a good thing by any means. Even though I knew that, I was still relieved over not having to fight Ayanokouji-kun. Normally, I would have been lamenting the fact that we weren’t able to compete against Ryuuen-kun and his classmates, as they were a class that didn’t do well when it came to competitions of academic ability.
As for the question of Ayanokouji-kun being our opponent or not, there were only two ways to look at it: either good or bad. But I was sure that wasn’t just limited to me. At the very least, Matsushita-san and Sudou-kun appeared to be relieved. Though I felt an intense self-loathing, I looked at the rules on the monitor again, without changing my expression.
Ichinose-san’s class had a lot of excellent students with well-rounded academic ability. Moreover, they were a class of forty, without a single student missing, which was troublesome for us. The more of a difference there was in the number of students between your class and the opposing class, the more of an advantage or disadvantage there would be before the exam even began. Although replicating a score was guaranteed to make up for the shortage of students, the fact remained that it was the lowest-scoring student’s grade being replicated, meaning that it was still a pretty significant handicap.
And with him gone…our class was at thirty-six people. In other words, it was like fighting while having five students forced into the lowest rank.
“This is only a rough approximation, but the expected scores according to your OAA evaluations would be as follows. You can use this as a basis for determining what kind of score our class may receive,” said Chabashira-sensei.
At the teacher’s explanation, the information on the monitor changed.
OAA Academic Ability
A Rank: 76 pts to 85 pts
B Rank: 66 pts to 75 pts
C Rank: 56 pts to 65 pts
D Rank: 51 pts to 55 pts
E Rank: 45 pts to 50 pts
The difficulty level of this written exam was high, and it was close to impossible to get a perfect score. That was my impression.
“This seems like it’s gonna be a tough fight…” muttered Sudou.
Sudou-kun, sitting nearby, mumbled those words to himself with a grim look on his face. Yes, this battle would most definitely be a difficult one for us, without a doubt. If we were to clash head-to-head, the odds of us winning would be slightly less than half. Although we’d been doing reasonably well in terms of raising our academic ability levels, when I looked back at the results of written exams held thus far, there have been times when we won against Ichinose-san’s class in academic ability-focused exams by only a narrow margin. However, considering the handicap due to the difference in numbers, we were at a slight disadvantage in the Whole Class Competition. Their class would also be studying hard over the two weeks before the exam, and there was no guarantee whatsoever that we would be able to close the gap with them efficiently.
But…there was another opportunity to win, precisely because this wasn’t a normal exam. If this had been a simple contest of academic ability where we competed based on total points, we would have had no other choice but to compete with lower odds. However, this time, there was a special event: the Small Group Competition. The fact that we could still turn things around with four wins in the Small Group Competition even if we lost the Whole Class Competition was significant.
Hypothetically, if the top five students from each class were pitted against each other, we would be able to compete on equal footing since both of our classes had approximately the same number of students who were close to an A rank. Of course, the disadvantageous situation itself wouldn’t be reversed. If the other class won the Whole Class Competition, they could win the entire exam after getting two victories in the Small Group Competition, while we would need to get four. If the Whole Class Competition ended in a tie, then three victories would be enough, but the chances of our overall scores being tied in the Whole Class Competition were so low that it seemed like it was probably better to discount that as a possibility.
“Four victories…huh,” I muttered aloud.
Putting the question of whether it was realistic or not aside, even if all five of the participants from Ichinose-san’s class competing in the Small Group Competition were ranked at an A in Academic Ability and scored around the eighty-five-point mark, we would still have an adequately good chance of winning if we inflicted penalties on the students competing. The reason being that just by distributing twenty penalties to each of those five students, we could bring their scores down to sixty-five points. However, the same was inevitably true for our opponent as well.
If you could inflict a large number of penalties on a capable student for a low price, then there would be no way they could recover from the significant drop in score. On the other hand, if you sent out students with a B or C rank in OAA, they wouldn’t get high scores to begin with, and you may not win. All four classes would run down the path of that basic scenario after hearing the rules. And the destination that would be reached at the end of that path was…the purchase of additional penalties.
An easy-to-understand strategy of buying up as many penalties as you could get your hands on in order to increase your chances of winning. That was simple, and it was the only way for us to definitively close the gap between us and our opponent. But the problem was the price…
The bottleneck was that it required fifty thousand Private Points to snatch away just one single point from an opponent. I understood that, but nevertheless, it was still one point.
But…it should be noted that you weren’t necessarily going to reap any benefits with absolute certainty just by spending more money. If you were anticipating that a specific student would be appearing in the exam and you inflicted a lot of penalties upon them, but they ended up not participating in the Small Group Competition, then that would be a terrible turn of events. More importantly, I didn’t even want to think about the damage that would be done if we pumped hundreds of thousands or millions of Private Points into this and we lost the exam.
“Tch…”
I placed my hands on top of one another and closed my eyes. Studying hard was a matter of course for this special exam, obviously, but the outcome also depended on who was chosen to participate in the Small Group Competition and whether you could effectively inflict penalties on the opposing students chosen by the other class. No matter how I looked at it, no alternative strategies could be executed. But I couldn’t imagine that we could take the win by going into it without actually coming up with any kind of plan and taking the cheap route.
I don’t know how to proceed…
If you were here, then…
If you were here, then you definitely would’ve come up with a surefire way to win.
I closed my eyes. The image of his back crossed my mind, making it difficult for me to breathe once again.
“Suzune.”
Should I go ahead and clash against Ichinose-san’s class head-on?
Could I win if I do that…?
Since our Academic Ability levels are close to even, should I just do it?
Is it possible to spy on our opponent to see whether they buy penalties?
Or should I do whatever it takes, no matter if it means using cowardly, unfair means, like Ryuuen-kun would?
Who is…our opponent going to choose…?
Maybe Ichinose-san won’t appear in the Small Group Competition after all, though?
Or maybe she’ll do the opposite of what I think and proudly join the battle?
Along with those questions, the image of Ayanokouji-kun floating in the corner of my mind just wouldn’t go away.
How would he fight if he were in my position?
How would he view this special exam?
I wasn’t even allowed to ask him for guidance anymore.
“Suzune.”
Should I buy some penalties to lower the risks and assign them to all the top-level students on their students who we ought to mark? As the saying goes, you can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs, which means we’ll need to bear some degree of pain if—
“Suzune!”
“Wh…?!”
I felt something touch my shoulder and I turned to look in the direction of whatever it was in surprise. It was Sudou-kun’s large hand.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m…fine. I was just giving a little thought to how we’ll fight in this exam,” I replied.
“Well, yeah, I’m sure you are, but…you’re still thinking about Ayanokouji too, right?” said Sudou-kun.
“I—” I began.
“Look, I know it’s impossible to tell you to stop caring about his transfer. But just don’t keep it all to yourself. Share the load,” said Sudou-kun.
“Yes, you’re right. I’ll try to do that,” I replied.
I can’t let Sudou-kun see me looking pathetic anymore, I told myself. Given the situation we were in, I at least needed to be tough in the present moment. I thought that’s what I had been doing, but apparently, it looked like it wasn’t enough.
“How we choose to use our penalties is going to be important…though I’m afraid of what’ll happen if we focus on students who are likely to get high scores and it ends up being in vain,” said Hirata-kun.
Before I knew it, Hirata-kun had taken initiative and started a discussion with our classmates. I had no clue whatsoever about what they had been talking about before now or for how long.
“The discussion only just started,” said Sudou-kun.
“Thank you…” I replied.
Sudou-kun understood very well that I had been lost in my thoughts. I needed to get my act together so I didn’t cause him any more worry.
Yukimura-kun, still seated, raised his hand in response to Hirata-kun’s statement.
“I think that it’s better not to look at the Small Group Competition simply through the lens of OAA,” he said. “The reason being that OAA simply represents an average score across all subjects, nothing more. Even if a student does extremely poorly in one subject but excels in the rest, that student would have a high score in OAA. Also, there are many things we don’t know about our own class, with respect to who excels at what and how much, right? It’s not like detailed results from all of our previous exams were revealed to us, after all.”
He suggested that we should take full advantage of the kind of detailed information that only members of this class would be able to know. The exam was two weeks away. Would I be able to come up with a way to clinch the win…?
6.1
EVEN ON THE DAY the details of the special exam were announced, I was met with the same-as-always after-school routine. While the other students were trying to make a quick exit, Hashimoto got up from his seat as soon as Mashima-sensei ended homeroom and left the classroom.
“All righty. So, this special exam’s entirely in Ayanokouji’s hands, right?” said Hashimoto.
From how he was speaking, it sounded like there was an assumption of acceptance, rather than asking for permission, as he directed that question to the entire class. The classroom fell silent for a moment, with neither a “yes” or “no” being said back to him. Shortly after, though, Shimazaki glared at Hashimoto, not hiding his displeasure at all.
“Why would that be?” he asked.
“Whaddya mean, why?” Hashimoto replied. “It should be obvious. ’Cause this exam’s a good opportunity for the new transfer Ayanokouji, to show us what he’s got. If we don’t let him handle it now, when are we gonna let him handle anything? Then we’ll never know what we even recruited him for.”
Hashimoto strongly argued against the objection, thinking that even if the idea wasn’t welcome, it was still a given that’s what would be done.
“And what if we lose because of that?” asked Shimazaki.
“What if we lose? Come on, don’t say stupid stuff. There’s no way we’re gonna lose. Right, Ayanokouji?” said Hashimoto.
Come on, tell ’im! was written all over Hashimoto’s face, the pressure loud and clear.
“I cannot guarantee victory or defeat, but if you entrust me with this, I intend to give it my all,” I replied.
Pulling a complete one-eighty from my greeting I gave during the first homeroom, which was brimming with confidence, I deliberately made a point of giving myself some insurance in case we lost. This was met with cold stares from all of my classmates—a natural reaction when you heard someone say something like this when you didn’t know how a match would turn out, but you’d start to doubt your own ears.
“S-see, Hashimoto?” replied Shimazaki.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if Sakayanagi definitively stated that she would “win” early on at times like these. I’m sure there were probably some people who were bewildered or discouraged by the gap between her and me.
“Hey, come on dude, say it with more confidence!” said Hashimoto. “You’re gonna make the rest of us worry. Hell, I’m starting to get worried myself.” Hashimoto briefly looked off into the distance while scratching his head and let out a sigh. “Anyway, Shimazaki, what do you plan to do then if we don’t leave it to Ayanokouji, huh?” he asked.
“That should go without saying. We just fight like normal and win like normal, that’s all,” argued Shimazaki.
“‘Normal’? Okay, then who’s gonna think of a strategy?” asked Hashimoto.
“We can discuss it together, all of us. I’m not gonna object to Ayanokouji joining in, of course.”
“Are you tryin’ to say that we don’t need a leader then?”
“That’s not what I mean,” Shimazaki said. “Of course we need a leader; we’ll need one to steer us when we get into trouble. But I’m just not willing to entrust him alone with this special exam, is all. To be frank, based on everything we’ve heard, I think that this special exam is in the bag for us. It’s clear we’re gonna win, since we’ve always scored at the top in written exams over the past two years, whereas our opponents always score at the bottom. Am I wrong?”
Hashimoto let out a small groan and quickly made his objections known, saying, “If this were just a simple written test, then sure. But this is a special exam! Do you really think we can win this without giving it any thought?”
“I didn’t say that we wouldn’t give it any thought. I’m saying that, if necessary, we should discuss things with the whole class,” argued Shimazaki.
“The more people there are, the easier it’ll be for information to get leaked,” retorted Hashimoto.
“Nobody would be stupid enough to leak anything. Well, nobody except you, that is.”
“Oh, you really went there, huh?”
While Hashimoto and Shimazaki were arguing, Sanada, who had been watching their back-and-forth and waiting for the right time to chime in, stood up.
“May I ask you a question, Ayanokouji-kun?” he asked.
“Sure, of course,” I replied.
“As far as I can tell, I think that the important part of this special exam is who the penalties are assigned to,” he said. “I’m wondering if it’s safe to assume that, should we leave this to you, that you would bring us results by accurately predicting who our opponent will choose to be in the Small Group Competition and telling us who we should select from our side to avoid being targeted. If you were to say you could do that, then I think I would be willing to entrust this matter to you, Ayanokouji-kun.”
Sanada, while helping Hashimoto, also offered reassurance to his classmates who were doubting me by laying out the initiative. Sanada then looked at Shimazaki with a calm, gentle demeanor.
“I see…” Shimazaki said. “So you’re saying that you’re not looking at Ayanokouji’s worth through winning or losing, but by measuring his abilities in the process that gets us there?”
“Yes,” Sanda replied. “Because I also feel that we have a good chance of winning this special exam. However, if there were a way for someone to flip things on their head in this match-up, it would most definitely be because of the penalty assignments in the Small Group Competition. There’s no guarantee that we could find an optimal solution by having everyone discuss it here. I don’t doubt that there is risk in entrusting this matter to Ayanokouji-kun alone, but as Hashimoto-kun said, the time has come when we need to entrust him with something to prove himself. If that’s the case, then I think we can consider this special exam to be our chance to be able to quickly make a definitive decision about his worth.”
It was something one might call a compromise, incorporating the opinions of both sides.
“That’s…certainly not a bad idea. Are you sure you’re fine with us passing this off to you, Ayanokouji?” asked Shimazaki.
“If you leave this to me, I intend to do all I can, to the best of my ability,” I replied.
Though I had replied as such, Shimazaki’s voice immediately jumped up a notch in intensity.
“All right. Then you’ll let us focus on whether or not you were the right choice here, with winning proving your worth, yeah?” he replied.
“Okay, my dudes. In that case, let’s go with that,” said Hashimoto.
Hashimoto, interpreting what Shimazaki said as a commitment, nodded in apparent satisfaction and clapped his hands, resulting in a loud cracking sound. He probably thought that as long as I was given this opportunity, nothing else mattered.
“It’s settled then. ’Kay, then we’ll discuss details later. Y’all just kick back and rest easy,” added Hashimoto.
“I’m not so sure we can do that, man. For the time being, we should rack our brains as best we can to figure out who to put penalties on,” said Shimazaki.
Hashimoto then urged that we all disperse, considering that a prolonged discussion may, by some chance, lead to the unexpected retraction of the previous agreement.
“I mean, Ayanokouji’s going to need plenty o’ time,” said Hashimoto.
Despite saying that, Hashimoto wasn’t planning to let me leave right away after class ended.
“Hashimoto Masayoshi appears to be extraordinarily bothered by the fact that he was not included in the prior discussions on your transfer,” Morishita stated.
He certainly was acting like he didn’t want to let the discussion continue without him.
“Are you sure about this? You’re going to let someone who may possibly betray you be on the inside of your strategy discussion?” added Morishita in a whisper directly behind me.
“Your faith in Hashimoto has been stretched thin, huh?” I replied.
“Well, it’s only natural that it would be when he’s so thick,” she answered.
Since Morishita was seated directly behind me, it was easy for us to talk when we needed to discuss minute details like this. Morishita, sensing that Hashimoto was approaching, suspended our conversation right then and there.
“Let’s go, Ayanokouji. What are you gonna do, Morishita?” asked Hashimoto.
“I suppose I shall accompany you for the time being. I very much wish to see ‘what he’s got,’ so to speak,” said Morishita.
“We can be in the dorm, at karaoke, or even behind the school building,” said Hashimoto.
Normally, standard practice would dictate choosing a location where you wouldn’t be seen when discussing strategy. However, I deliberately proposed a meeting at the usual café.
6.2
WE ARRIVED AT THE CAFÉ, not stopping anywhere else on the way.
“Please wait a moment. I am going to spend an hour thinking very, very carefully about what I would like to drink,” said Morishita.
“Come on, don’t take a whole hour,” groaned Hashimoto.
Morishita smirked in response to Hashimoto snapping back at her.
“That was a joke. Well, at any rate, please do wait a little while, because I am going to ask my stomach if there is anything she’s craving,” said Morishita.
Was the stomach the right organ to be asking? I felt like it would’ve been more correct to say that you would ask your brain if anything, but…whatever. Some first-year students, both male and female, were starting to come into the café, and were just about to start lining up. However, perhaps upon noticing Morishita’s hesitation, they refrained from doing that and instead started looking at the menu while standing a short distance away from us.
“Hurry up and decide before you hold up the line,” Hashimoto urged.
“I hear you. I believe I will have a matcha latte today,” said Morishita.
“All right, I’ll go ahead and order all of our drinks. You guys go and grab us an empty spot somewhere in the back,” said Hashimoto.
Since we came to the café immediately after class had ended, over 90 percent of the seats were still available. Since I had my pick of seats, I figured that I’d choose the same place as last time. While Hashimoto waited at the counter to get drinks for the three of us, Morishita and I went ahead and claimed our seats.
“Should we call Yamamura Miki? She was self-deprecating, saying that she is so insignificant that she is practically lighter than air, lighter than carbon dioxide. She said that it was the end for her, for the world to just go ahead and suck her up and spit her out all it wants,” rambled Morishita.
“I’m pretty sure Yamamura wouldn’t engage in such edgy self-deprecation,” I replied.
No matter how you thought about that, that statement was only something that the weirdo in front of me, Morishita, would say.
“Well, it is certainly true that it was a product of my own unique originality, but that’s not the focus of my statement,” said Morishita.
“I’ve already sent word to Yamamura. I told her that she should keep her distance from me for a while,” I replied.
It was inevitable that I, the whispered-about transfer student, would draw attention, with countless students calling out to me or trying to catch glimpses of me day after day after day. Everything I did, from groundless rumors to actual truth, was bound to spread like wildfire.
“No matter how little presence Yamamura Miki has, being seen together would certainly be a problem. So, it was an executive decision on your part to keep your distance, so as to not go out of your way to diminish the value of her usefulness, then,” said Morishita.
“‘The value of her usefulness,’ huh? Well, I suppose it’s not like that aspect doesn’t play into it at all, but it was actually out of consideration as a friend,” I replied.
“Oh? So you say,” replied Morishita.
If I called upon Yamamura, she would most likely do her best to live up to any expectations placed on her. But if I placed excessive stress on her by making her stand out, it would only hurt her emotionally.
“So, if Yamamura Miki says that she wishes to stand out, you will not mind if she does?” asked Morishita.
“Of course I wouldn’t. She’s free to show off if that’s what she wants,” I replied.
“Kindness…or, no, is that what they call ‘leeway’?” asked Morishita.
If I forcefully tried to use Yamamura as a tool so soon after she closed the distance between herself and Sakayanagi and just as she was beginning to change her way of thinking, there was a possibility that she’d rapidly shut down. If that happened, she would no longer be able to function properly as my eyes and ears. It would be a stupid idea to destroy her by overworking her.
Also, unlike Sakayanagi, who had made use of the calm and stable Yamamura from the beginning while maintaining a proper distance from her, I wanted to start by nurturing her mind and developing her into becoming someone that I could use more conveniently over the next year. Since it was unclear how Morishita viewed Yamamura at this time, it was safer for me not to discuss those plans.
“What about you, though? Do you not get along with Yamamura?” I asked.
Since transferring to Class C, I had not even once seen Morishita and Yamamura spending time together. In no small part, it seemed like that was because Yamamura didn’t want to come into contact with Morishita, as I noticed that she would occasionally cast glances or fidget when Morishita was close.
“It is best that she does not get too deeply involved with me, as she would end up getting sucked into wicked, sinful causality. An insubstantial, meager existence such as hers would most likely be fated to end up crumbling to dust…” said Morishita.
“Okay, I don’t understand what you’re saying at all. Wait, do you mean that it’s all right for me to get involved with you, then?”
“Indeed it is, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. You seem like a glutton for punishment.”
She probably wasn’t wrong in her perception there, but my threshold for punishment was something that was trained into me, regardless of my intentions.
“I hope you two didn’t go ahead and start the discussion before I got here,” interjected Hashimoto.
Hashimoto, walking a little quickly, came back while holding three cups directly in front of him.
“Please rest easy. We have already finished the discussion,” said Morishita.
“Uh, okay, that’s good. Then let’s start over from the beginning. First, let’s go over the outline of the exam again,” said Hashimoto.
It sounded like Hashimoto understood that was a joke on Morishita’s part, as expected. He took his seat and quickly got ready to begin the discussion. He took out his phone and displayed the rules and such for the special exam.
“I will remain quiet and listen, so please go ahead and begin,” said Morishita.
Morishita, declaring that she would play the part of listener, inserted a straw into her matcha latte cup.
“Okay, well, I’ll start off by sayin’ what I think,” said Hashimoto. “Frankly, I was surprised to see that our first special exam this year uses a one-one-one style setup. We literally just went through something like this at the end of last year.”
Hashimoto spoke candidly about his impressions of the freshly announced exam. As I was spending my days in a new class that I wasn’t accustomed to yet, this kind of a start wasn’t a terrible thing.
“And another thing! On top of that, the upper and lower ranks are cleanly divided up, too. Feels like you could consider that to be a decision that the school made after taking our grade’s situation into account,” added Hashimoto.
This was a terrific opportunity to close the gap between the top and bottom, but, conversely, that naturally meant it also carried the risk of opening it even wider.
“I gotta say though, man, I’m sure glad that you didn’t start things off with putting this uncertain alliance thing into operation as your first move. Backlash would’ve been a foregone conclusion, and what’s more, if it had been implemented, we would’ve had to prepare ourselves for a sudden loss. It’s scary just imagining it,” said Hashimoto.
It wasn’t as though I didn’t understand how he felt, but even if we left the matter alone, the time when this class would be going up against Ichinose’s would come eventually. Personally, I had the opposite opinion. I would’ve preferred that we clashed against each other right away. We were ahead in terms of overall Academic Ability, and I had just transferred in. I felt like I had slightly lost out, only because I could have made a spectacle of an abnormal loss like that and left a huge impact on Horikita and Ryuuen. A safe yet effective defeat could have been achieved.
Shortly after we started talking, the café began to see an increase in customers. The first-year male and female students from earlier must have just finished ordering, because they chose to sit down in the seats next to ours, iced coffees in hand.
“I could not possibly care any less about the exam overview or whatever,” said Morishita.
Perhaps Morishita couldn’t remain silent any longer because she uttered her complaints while biting down on her straw. She gnawed on it so much that the tip of her straw had been crushed.
“Hey now, then why’d you even come here with us?!” snapped Hashimoto.
“Because I was wondering if Ayanokouji Kiyotaka might have been bothered by the dramatic comments you made moments earlier, Hashimoto ‘Chicken-With-His-Head-Cut Off’ Masayoshi,” Morishita replied. “You selfishly made a show of speaking sharply in front of the class, but are you really sure that was the right thing to do? Making sure penalties are inflicted on your enemies while avoiding having penalties inflicted on your allies is an ideal tactic, but there will be no mercy, as I’m sure you’re aware. Our opponents will be thinking about the same thing, and they will be racking their brains to find the best way forward.”
Students with an elevated level of Academic Ability could get a good score, but they were more likely to be the target of penalties. On the other hand, students with a low level of Academic Ability were less likely to be the target of penalties, but you couldn’t expect them to get a high score.
“Don’t worry, Morishita, we’ll make it work, somehow,” Hashimoto said. “Besides, Shimazaki said as much too: At the very least, we have a huge advantage thanks to our high level of Academic Ability. Meaning we’ll definitely be in a superior position even if we get hit with a lot of penalties. In fact, it’s inevitable that our reading of the other class’s moves will be a little off. If we win the exam, then it’ll result in Ayanokouji being handed the reins for the next one too, more or less.”
It was practically impossible to achieve a 100 percent success rate with targeting and avoidance. There were no absolute answers to the question of whether to search from the front or the back. No matter how far you investigated, you would always end up with 99 percent certainty and 1 percent doubt. Of course, an unexpected byproduct, such as a leak from within the class, would change that. However, while such a naive development may have been possible when these students just started school here, it was unlikely something like that would happen now that they were in their third year.
“It is certainly true that if we do not miss anything, victory will bring great possibilities. I can think of no reason to deny that off the top of my head, so it would be possible that he would be entrusted with the next opportunity. However, even so, it would be setting a bad example to others if you didn’t correctly predict which students from the opposing class will be participating in the Small Group Competition. Yes, ideally, you would need to predict three,” said Morishita.
If I didn’t identify even a single one, then Shimazaki and the other students who had their doubts about me wouldn’t be convinced that my transfer had been the right choice.
“Well, that would be absolute proof that I had read our opponent’s thinking accurately, so I suppose I can’t ignore that,” I replied.
Only five students will participate in the Small Group Competition. Since we were initially given one hundred penalties to inflict, the number of people who could be assigned a substantial twenty-point deduction was five. The probability of randomly guessing three of the students that our opponent would select out of the forty students in their class correctly was less than 1 percent. That was precisely why the prediction part was so valued and important.
“I dunno, I think three seems tough, though. I think that even two would be enough,” said Hashimoto.
Hashimoto hypothesized that even if I had fewer successful hits, the response would be different. Hashimoto had said “even two” in an easygoing way, but if I were assigning penalties to five people, the probability of getting two correct was still less than 10 percent. You couldn’t say that those were exceedingly high chances by any stretch.
“That is easy for you to say, because all you are doing is leaving it to him. What I want to hear are Ayanokouji Kiyotaka’s thoughts. In a situation where you have no clues, how will you predict which students our opponent will select?” asked Morishita.
“I’m not at a stage where I can talk about that yet. I don’t want people to take me at my word if I make careless remarks here,” I replied.
“Oh my, you have gone on the defensive rather quickly. That makes me concerned about what the future holds,” said Morishita.
“I’m sure it does. So, if you have any thoughts on the current situation, I’m all ears,” I replied.
I posed that offer to Hashimoto, who nodded cheerfully and automatically started facilitating the conversation for me. He was probably hoping that by talking, I would be able to come up with some promising ideas.
“Okay, so, in that case, I’m gonna go ahead with the premise that we’re going for two correct hits for the time being,” he said. “So personally, I think that it’s better to target on a wide scale, and to assign ten points worth of penalties to each of ten people, ’cause it’d be painful if we narrowed our list to just the five people that we think are participating in the Small Group Competition and missed. Besides, with a ten-point advantage, our class stands a good chance of winning. We can count the number of strong candidates from the opposing class on one hand.”
Unfortunately for the exceptional students in the opposing class who had a B+ or better in Academic Ability, such as Kaneda, Hiyori, and Katsuragi, there weren’t even six of them, just as Hashimoto had said.
“If you are not confident in who will be chosen, then that is what you ought to do, at minimum,” added Morishita.
“Looks like Morishita agrees with me,” remarked Hashimoto.
“Well, it’s just the basics of the basics,” replied Morishita.
“Also, we have to not only think about offense, but defense, too. I’m talking about who we choose from our class. Do you have a good grasp on our class’s Academic Ability ranking?” asked Hashimoto.
“I think I have a pretty good idea based on OAA and what I’ve seen over the past two years,” I replied.
“Okay. But I’ll give you my own two years’ worth of subjective opinion later just in case, if you want that for reference,” said Hashimoto.
“That would be genuinely helpful, since I don’t know in detail where people’s strengths lie,” I replied.
It was unclear if his words would be useful in this particular special exam, but they would likely save me at a later time.
“As for the question of who to select from our class, I think that we should mainly pit students with a high level of Academic Ability against our opponent, while also incorporating a few anomalies,” said Morishita.
“Oh? So, you mean you’re prepared to accept penalties to a certain degree then, eh, Morishita?” asked Hashimoto.
“That is because if we play it safe and choose students with low Academic Ability or choose students near the middle range, but our opponent sees through us and anticipates our move, the damage we will suffer will be great. Conversely, it would be beneficial for us if our opponent assumes that we will likely not send in students with an elevated level of Academic Ability and removes them from their list of targets,” she explained.
Though Hashimoto, resting on his elbow, agreed with that in theory, he seemed to want to take a different approach.
“I think that we should give more spots to the lower-ranked students though,” he said. “The folks with high Academic Ability are definitely gonna get marked. If it were me, I’d assign penalties to those students while being prepared for any misses. Actually, no, I think that I might consider taking a gamble and assigning a large number of penalties only to the top-ranked people if I had to.”
It seemed both sides had contrasting ways of thinking about the Small Group Competition in the special exam. Each of their viewpoints had objectively correct aspects; however, from the start, there were only three rough combinations that could ultimately be made. Either you had students with high Academic Ability, students with low Academic Ability, or you struck a balance between the two.
“In that case, another thing that you ought to be concerned about is if they buy additional penalties,” Morishita pointed out. “It would be bad news for us if they expended material resources as part of their strategy, broadening their range of targets to twenty or thirty people.”
“Yeah, money is ammunition. That’s risky, but I suppose knowing Ryuuen, he might be prepared to do somethin’ like that,” said Hashimoto.
If, hypothetically, Ryuuen were to hit all of the students participating in the Small Group Competition, his handicap would be greatly reduced. The ability to purchase additional penalties was probably the most interesting variable of this particular special exam. Under normal circumstances, the difference in Academic Ability wouldn’t have been easy to make up, and Ryuuen’s class would have had virtually no chance of winning.
However, there were two victories to be won from the Whole Class Competition and five victories from the Small Group Competition, and the Small Group Competition had the penalty-allocation rule. If Ryuuen could correctly anticipate who would be representing the classes, he could even out the odds, and it was even possible for him to control the chances of making a come-from-behind win to some extent thanks to being able to purchase additional penalties. This was an exam where you could say that our class winning was a foregone conclusion, but surprisingly, there was an opening for our opponent to exploit as well.
“If they inflict twenty-point penalties on all of our top people, then…damn, that would be bad, wouldn’t it?” said Hashimoto.
“Our chances of victory would drop dramatically, yes. However, he would need to spend Private Points like they were growing on trees in order to execute such a reckless endeavor,” said Morishita.
If you were going to reduce someone’s score by twenty points, purchasing those additional penalties would cost one million Private Points. Since there were twelve students with a B+ or better in Class C, the overhead cost would be as much as seven million, even if you’re accounting for the one hundred points’ worth of penalties you would have initially.
“Yeah, losing after spending nearly ten million points certainly wouldn’t be a laughing matter,” remarked Hashimoto.
That’s right. They could keep face if they won through financial means, but they needed to consider the risks if they lost. The more you increased your odds of winning in an exam, the more financial difficulties you would face and the more it would impact your chances of winning later down the road.
“So what do you think Ryuuen’s gonna do about that? Can you read what he’s gonna do?” asked Hashimoto.
Full of expectations, Hashimoto repeatedly asked me for my thoughts. I figured he was looking for an excessive number of answers because my efforts here would also go to cementing my own position within the class, as well.
“Ryuuen’s strategy is…” I pretended to give it some thought before speaking again. “Something I don’t know anything about.”
“You seriously don’t know anything about that either?!” wailed Hashimoto.
“That is too bad. It would appear Ayanokouji Kiyotaka has not yet had a flash of inspiration,” said Morishita.
“There’s a grace period until the exam. All I need to do is come up with a winning strategy by then,” I replied.
“Slow and steady wins the race, as they say, yeah? Well, it’s true that not even you are a god or anything, Ayanokouji,” said Hashimoto.
He was being resolute, but without a doubt, I was sure that inwardly he was feeling anxious.
“Also, I have no intention of personally participating in the Small Group Competition of this special exam,” I replied.
“Well, yeah, you’re free to do whatever, but are you sure that’s the right move?” Hashimoto asked. “You’re the one who said that in order to be recognized by the class, you’ll need to demonstrate your value to everyone in an easy-to-comprehend way, right, Ayanokouji? And it’s not like you don’t have confidence in that field, right? Mr. I-Have-Academic-Ability-A.”
“You think that Ryuuen won’t be worried about me?” I asked.
“I mean, sure, I think it’s obvious you’ll be marked by Ryuuen, but…” he protested.
“Thinking it through normally, our opponent would assume that Ayanokouji Kiyotaka would be appearing, and standard practice would be to inflict penalties upon him,” Morishita said. “So, if we nonchalantly paraded him out, he would be targeted and hit. If it were one or two penalties, that would be one thing, but if our opponent were to inflict as many as thirty or forty penalties on Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, then he would be fundamentally unable to win. Though let us put aside the question of whether our opponent would go that far out of a desire for one victory.”
Even if I got a perfect score in that scenario, if I were hit with forty penalties, I would be forcefully reduced to a score of sixty points. The student from the opposing class would likely have a good chance of winning against me even if they weren’t Kaneda, Hiyori, or Katsuragi.
“In all likelihood, Ryuuen will inflict multiple penalties on me. There’s no need for me to appear,” I added.
“I see. So you think that Ryuuen’s gonna penalize you,” said Hashimoto.
“Yeah. Regardless of whatever he says, Ryuuen will definitely do that first, without a doubt,” I answered.
“In that case, yeah, you shouldn’t overdo it. I’ll be grateful for as many swings and misses as we can get out of him,” said Hashimoto.
“It might be interesting to try asking him what he’s planning when he comes over here,” I replied.
“Huh? By ‘asking him,’ you can’t mean…?” asked Hashimoto.
“Ryuuen,” I replied.
When I answered, Hashimoto scanned our surroundings in a panic.
“He’s…not here though?” he answered.
“Not yet. But there’s some activity at the café, so it’s only a matter of time,” I answered.
When I directed my gaze toward a corner of the café, Hashimoto and Morishita also turned to look in the same direction. Komiya and Yamawaki, who were intently looking over at me, hurriedly averted their eyes and pretended that it was just a coincidence, but they were too late.
“So they were spying on us, huh?” said Hashimoto. “I didn’t even notice because of the distance.”
Hashimoto was probably only wary of eavesdropping in some form. But in that sense, you could say that that was also too late. The two first-year students who had been sitting in the seats next to us, a boy and a girl, got up from their seats after finishing their break in the café. As I watched the two of them leave, Morishita titled her head to the side, puzzled.
“Is something the matter with those first-year students?” she asked.
“Those two new students were also sent here by Ryuuen,” I replied.
“Huh…? Are you serious?” asked Hashimoto.
“Yes. Although they tried to look as natural as possible, they put a phone close to the edge of the table so that they could pick up our voices. They placed it as close to us as they could, pointed the mic at us, and what’s more, placed face down. That’s because if they got a call while they were recording us, either with audio or video, the screen would’ve lit up and they would’ve risked being seen. Normally, whether it’s a guy or girl, they keep their cell phone close by so they could be checked regularly. But Takikura, the girl, didn’t touch her phone once from start to finish, even when there was silence,” I replied.
“Shit, he’s already using first-years as pawns in such a short span of time…” huffed Hashimoto.
“It’s been less than a week since school started. Which means that even during that short timeframe, Ryuuen was contacting first-year students to widen his surveillance net,” I answered.
Hashimoto himself was an incredibly alert person, but as one would expect, first-year students would not have been on his radar.
“Knowing their names though, very well done, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka,” said Morishita.
“Though they’re reference records from junior high school, their faces and names on OAA are available for viewing. I looked through them on the day that information was released publicly,” I answered.
“If you were to ask me, I’d say it’s certainly true that those two may be suspicious. However, is that enough to say with certainty that they were spies sent by Ryuuen Kakeru?” asked Morishita. “They could have just so happened to not have touched their phone and they could have simply placed the phone in that position without thinking anything of it. I don’t think we can dismiss those possibilities.”
“Maybe so. But nothin’ wrong with being careful. It’s important to act on the assumption that stuff like that is happening,” said Hashimoto.
In truth, there was a foundation for my reasoning, but I figured it would be better to touch on that after the special exam. After letting out a whistle, Hashimoto nodded with a smile, proudly.
“If it smacks of spy activity, then that’s enough reason for me to doubt them, Morishita. But, man, Ayanokouji, I should expect no less from you,” said Hashimoto.
“It will not do you any good to just go on praising him all the time. If what he says is actually true, then that means Ayanokouji Kiyotaka just handed them some information,” said Morishita.
“Even if I did, I only gave them information that’s fine to leak. Don’t worry,” I replied.
“So that’s what you meant when you said you ‘didn’t know’ to a bunch of stuff. Yeah, that’s exactly what makes me think so highly of you, dude. You can’t just carelessly say what your true intentions are when the enemy is nearby, after all,” Hashimoto gushed.
Information was most certainly a weapon when you were limited in what you could do in an exam. It was vital to make attempts to get even the slightest hint or clue so that you could win. However, at the same time, you needed to understand that that didn’t necessarily lead to a definite increase in your chances of winning. The idea of using first-year students, who were less likely to raise the alarm, wasn’t a bad one, but in the end, accurate information was more important than the amount gathered.
Extracting only the truth from a mountain of information that was a mixture of fact and fiction was arduous work. Actually, no, it was safe to say that extracting relevant facts was so difficult that it wasn’t feasible.
Morishita took her lips off the straw of her now half-empty matcha latte to speak.
“It would appear that he really has come after all,” she said.
“Looks like it, yeah. Let’s quit chatting for the time being, since this time, we’re dealing with way, way more troublesome customers than Horikita and her friend,” Hashimoto said, followed by an almost bitter smile tinged with nervousness spread over his lips.
Three people, Ryuuen, Ishizaki, and Albert, approached. A week had passed since the opening ceremony was held. Though students from other classes and other grade levels had been inquisitively prying about the matter of my transfer, none of the students from Ryuuen’s class had mentioned anything about it to me directly thus far, even though we had exchanged looks in passing. Actually, if anything, they seemed to have been deliberately avoiding me. Did that mean that Ryuuen had given instructions to his classmates, I wondered.
“I don’t think anything bad is gonna happen in a place like this, but…it is a little disconcerting, not havin’ Kitou here,” said Hashimoto.
Hashimoto looked at Morishita, visibly seeming a little uneasy. He was probably imagining what would happen in the unlikely chances of something going down, but it would’ve been more realistic to not to even consider the possibility.
“You do not need to tremble like a newborn fawn. If such a time comes, I shall beat them to a pulp. Despite appearances, I am a licensed master of the Ai-chan style of kobujutsu,” said Morishita.
“How…reassuring,” said Hashimoto.
Hashimoto, though grateful to Morishita for her unadulterated lie, stood up in front of both me and Morishita. Immediately afterward, a loud, audacious voice echoed not just through the café, but throughout the entire Keyaki Mall.
“Ayanokoujiiii!”
It was the voice of Ishizaki who, unable to restrain himself upon seeing me, was making his way over to me.
“Hey! Why’d you transfer into Sakay—err, into Class C, I mean?!” he shouted.
He must have wanted to ask about it before now but couldn’t. He suddenly blurted that out, like his feelings were exploding out of him.
“Quiet down, Ishizaki. You’re buggin’ the other students, so chill,” said Hashimoto, stepping in between us to prevent Ishizaki from laying his hands on me.
“How the hell could I calm down?! All this time, I, I—!” he sputtered.
“Outta the way.”
Ryuuen caught up to Ishizaki and shoulder-checked him, forcing Ishizaki to make way. Students sitting in the vicinity began to get up from their seats in a panic, as if literal sparks might start flying.
“You spoiled the fun café vibes, Ryuuen. At least have a modicum of manners, won’t ya?” asked Hashimoto.
“Yer as desperate as ever, I see. As soon as Sakayanagi disappears, you don’t waste no time sucking up to Ayanokouji, huh? Ya think you’ll just up and die if you don’t stick to strong people?” asked Ryuuen.
“Nothin’ wrong with workin’ for the sake of the class, is there?” replied Hashimoto.
“Hah!Well, whatever, do whatcha want. More importantly…” After first briefly rotating his neck, Ryuuen then pierced me with a sharp gaze. “What the hell are you playin’ at, transferrin’ to Class C?” he asked.
“It’s something that just happened. After Sakayanagi left, they stepped up and helped me out,” I replied.
When I looked over at Hashimoto, he nodded his head vigorously and in exaggerated fashion, as if to say, “Yes, that’s right.”
“Naw, dude, I wanna know why’d you go and transfer to a low class?!” wailed Ishizaki.
“Shut up for a second,” snapped Ryuuen, snatching Ishizaki by the collar, which prompted him to apologize with great haste.
“Y-yes sir! Sorry ’bout that!” shouted Ishizaki.
“Is there something wrong with me transferring to Class C?” I asked.
“Heh heh. No, not really,” Ryuuen said. “Personally, I see nothin’ wrong with it. It’s a welcome development for me. If you of all people are gonna lead that class, then there’s no better stage for me to beat you.”
For Ryuuen, the idea of me fighting while using Horikita as my puppet and my shield was incomprehensible. So, in a sense, Ryuuen was welcoming this change with open arms.
“I gotta say though, Ryuuen, you’re pretty late in sayin’ hello to our brand-new leader, aren’t you?” said Hashimoto.
“Leader? Well, aren’t you hasty. It looked to me like he still wasn’t officially recognized as such,” said Ryuuen.
I figured that Ryuuen had been covertly investigating the state of Class C over the past week. He knew that I wasn’t welcomed by students like Shimazaki, and that I wasn’t allowed to act as the leader yet.
“They’re hoping to see results in the next special exam. Please go easy on me,” I replied.
“’Fraid that’s an impossible ask, seein’ as this is a good opportunity for me to fight ya, and I’ll make whatever moves I can, without hesitation,” Ryuuen declared.
With that, Ryuuen turned his back to me and started walking away. It meant that there wasn’t any need for unnecessary chitchat.
“Ayanokouji…” Ishizaki said, not quite done with me yet. “Why? If you were gonna go to Class C, then why…? Shit, dude! Well, I guess what’s done is done, ain’t nothin’ I can do. But…anyway dude, let’s talk sometime.”
Ishizaki’s reaction told me that, while he was frustrated with the current situation, he had no choice but to accept it.
“Oh, and you should meet up with Shiina ’fore long, dude. Even if she ain’t as down in the dumps as me, she’s still pretty depressed,” he added.
“I plan to,” I replied.
I hadn’t seen her because I had been intentionally avoiding the library until Ryuuen contacted me. I was planning to make an appearance there again once the special exam was over. Albert also casually raised his hand and gave me a wave before silently following behind Ryuuen.
“Hmm. It would appear that he was all bark and no bite,” said Morishita.
Morishita sucked up the matcha that had sunk to the bottom of her cup, speaking as if she had done the task of driving them away herself.
“Jeez, how can you say that when you didn’t even say a single word the whole conversation?” Hashimoto said. “Anyway, there’s no doubt that Ryuuen is just going for the win, so you really, really can’t lose now, Ayanokouji. Take your time and think carefully about your strategy. I’ll report in whenever I get new information myself.”
Hashimoto, feeling like he had work to do, didn’t sit down and left the café, cup in hand.
“Hashimoto Masayoshi certainly likes to move. Perhaps that is because he is in the track and field club,” said Morishita.
That non-sequitur probably didn’t have any relevance… Probably…
Wait, hold on. Hashimoto wasn’t even in the track and field club.
6.3
AT THE TIME Ayanokouji and Ryuuen were engaged in conversation at the café in the bustling Keyaki Mall, Kushida had just left it shortly after getting a café au lait to go. Since Ayanokouji had exposed her true nature during the Unanimous Special Exam, her classmates had naturally stopped being friendly with her. Many of the boys didn’t seem to care all that much, but more than a few of the girls made a point of distancing themselves from her, so the amount of time she spent alone had increased dramatically. Now, Kushida had been pragmatic about it, because one, it was something she couldn’t do anything about, and two, she didn’t really mind.
She never liked big groups to begin with. All she had wanted was to stand out from the crowd and be superior. Of course, she still sometimes got involved with students from other classes and grade levels who knew nothing of her true nature, just like she had before, but she had reduced the frequency of her interactions with them to a certain extent. The reason was that the exhaustion she felt—as she continued to put on an act, even as the number of people who knew her true nature had grown—was almost unbearable.
Oh, Kushida’s pretending to be a good person again. She couldn’t help but feel increasingly irritated at her classmates who looked at her with eyes full of such thoughts. Compared to her junior high school days, she felt that she and the people around her had grown more mature. Even so, she had been unable to vent her frustration lately. If she continued on like this day after day without being able to vent, then that meant she wouldn’t even feel inclined to fake a smile.
“Ugh. Not this annoying bitch.”
On her way back from the mall, with no one else within earshot, Kushida saw a certain someone in her field of vision and unabashedly hurled abuse at them. That certain someone was none other than Horikita, who was sitting down on a bench, her eyes downcast, with a dispirited look on her face. It would have been easy for Kushida to simply pass her by, but when Kushida stopped in front of Horikita, Horikita slowly looked up at her.
“Kushida-san…?” she asked.
“Why’re you saying that like it’s a question?” Kushida asked. “Oh, and I’m not going to ask you what you’re doing in a place like this. You’re waiting to see if you have a chance to meet Ayanokouji, and you’ll pretend it’s a big coincidence if you do, right?”
“Wrong.”
“No, it’s so obvious that I called it. Anyway, there is no element of coincidence at play here today at all, and to be honest, you just look like a super depressed girl, you know?”
Horikita, after being easily seen through and her intentions discovered, averted her gaze.
“Could you…please just leave me alone?” said Horikita.
“I’d love to, but I can’t overlook this when you have such a grim look on your face. If a class leader has that kind of expression, no matter how you look at it, it’s bad for morale, wouldn’t you say?” replied Kushida.
Though she hated her, the reason why Kushida turned a blind eye to whatever Horikita did and stayed in her class even after her own true nature had been exposed was because Kushida needed Horikita to help her graduate from Class A. If Horikita, who carried a significant role in making that happen, was weak, then that would lower her own chances of success. There was no way that Kushida could allow that to happen.
“You—”
Just as Horikita was about to say something, Kushida averted her gaze and turned around, having sensed someone approaching from behind. That person was Ninomiya Yui from Class 3-D, passing by on her way back to the dormitory.
“Oh, hey there, Kushida-san, Horikita-san. See you later!” said Ninomiya.
“Yeah, see you around, Ninomiya-san. Let’s hang out again sometime!” replied Kushida.
Kushida smiled at her and continued to smile until Ninomiya was no longer within earshot. Horikita also took that into consideration and watched and waited for a moment.
“You seem to be completely fine, Kushida-san. About Ayanokouji-kun’s transfer, that is,” said Horikita.
“Fine? Of course I’m not ‘fine,’” retorted Kushida. “If Ayanokouji-kun isn’t around, then there’s no way this sham of a class will stand a chance. It feels like graduating from Class A is completely hopeless. On top of that, Ayanokouji-kun knows my true nature, so to me, it feels like he’d leak that information to the other classes if he was asked. He wouldn’t hesitate to do so if he felt the need, so he might make my business public.”
Horikita recalled what happened after class on the day of the opening ceremony, when she met up with Ayanokouji. How he talked about the back-and-forth that had been happening between him and Matsushita behind the scenes, and about her accomplishments. Ayanokouji had revealed those things without any hesitation, telling Horikita that Kushida’s worries and interpretation of the situation weren’t entirely unfounded.
“Then how can you be so calm?” asked Horikita.
“Because I have to be, even if it’s just an act,” Kushida said. “Just like how I’m good at pretending to be a kind person, I’m also good at pretending to be relaxed at all times. Much unlike a certain someone.”
Since their conversation was getting drawn out the longer she stood in front of Horikita, Kushida brought her café au lait, which she had planned to drink once she got back to her dorm room, to her lips. As it passed down her throat, the sweetness of the drink and the aroma of coffee spread.
“Haaah… Ugh, gawd, how annoying. Seriously, can’t you do something about that face? It’s making you look even uglier than you already are,” snapped Kushida.
“I’m trying to appear as if everything is normal,” said Horikita.
“If that’s true, then you’re seriously sick,” said Kushida. She sighed in exasperation and was about to walk away, but then she remembered something. “Look, I don’t care if you’re acting like a forlorn sissy girly-girl right now or whatever, but can’t you do something about that Ibuki bitch at least?”
“Come to think of it…she has been calling quite persistently these days,” said Horikita.
“She keeps telling me to give her something to eat because you won’t deal with her. I told her to just go and eat something, even if it’s the wild vegetable lunch set, but she’s being all pissy and won’t stop grumbling. It’s like she’s lost her mind because she was being fed meals for free, even if they were mediocre.”
Recently, Horikita had the opportunity to cook meals and have Ibuki and Kushida join her for lunch. That had been the routine for over half of each week, all the way up until the end of spring vacation. Now suddenly, there’d been a one-week break in this pattern.
“I’m sorry, but…I just can’t bring myself to do anything right now,” said Horikita.
“I wasn’t really thinking that you should cook her food or anything like that,” Kushida said. “Anyway, now that the special exam has started, hurry up and come up with some kind of strategy. There’s no way you can afford to lose to the lowest-ranked class.”
“That’s easy for you to say. Considering the difference in numbers, we’re at a disadvantage, aren’t we?” replied Horikita.
“So what? It’s the class leader who has to resolve to win in those situations,” said Kushida.
Horikita had thought it was a harsh request on her part, but she understood shortly afterward that it was justified. To continue to stand at the top of one’s own domain was to bear all responsibilities.
“Yes, you’re right… I think so, too,” said Horikita.
Kushida forced her facial expression back to one of kindness, putting her mask back on.
“Well, even if you know that, you’re still acting like you’re hopeless. Anyway, I’m going to get going now. I guess you can just sit here and wait for Ayanokouji-kun to head back to the dormitory? But…he likely won’t engage with you, or so I think.”
Leaving Horikita behind with those cold-sounding words, Kushida walked away, tightly gripping her cup. For no real reason, Horikita continued to watch her for a while. When Kushida eventually disappeared from sight, she stood up, since what Kushida said at the end was undeniably correct.
“Yeah, there’s no way he’d welcome the idea of me ambushing him here, I suppose…” sighed Horikita.
Kushida’s words made her realize that she had been acting pitifully, even though she should have known that herself from the start. But even so, she couldn’t move on. That was because her need to meet Ayanokouji was pure. All she wanted was to look him in the eye and talk.
“That’s…all I want right now…” muttered Horikita.
Apologizing to Kushida and her other classmates in her heart, Horikita decided to take her leave.
6.4
AFTER RETURNING TO MY ROOM, I collapsed onto my bed without even taking off my uniform. My body was heavy. I wasn’t sick or anything, not by any means. I just couldn’t muster any energy.
“I need to…think of a plan for the exam, and yet…” I muttered.
As I was just gazing at the ceiling, meaninglessly wasting my time, my cell phone rang.
“Ayanokouji-kun…?!” I exclaimed.
I reached for my phone and read the name of the caller on the screen. My faint hopes were dashed when I saw the name “Ibuki Mio” displayed. Just as Kushida-san had said earlier, Ibuki-san had been reaching out a number of times lately, including directly. But she just said the same things over and over like a parrot, repeating the phrase “feed me something.”
I really wasn’t in the mood to cook a meal, so I continued to turn her down. That was probably why she called today. I laid back down on my bed again, side-eyeing the convenience store bento I’d placed on my table. My phone, which had been ringing for a while, eventually went quiet.
I didn’t want to think about anything.
I didn’t want to accept anything.
Time simply passed by without rhyme or reason. Even once today ended and tomorrow came, Ayanokouji-kun wouldn’t be in class.
My cell phone vibrated. Was it Ibuki-san again? But the short vibration indicated that it wasn’t a call, but a text message.
Still lying down, I grabbed my phone with faint expectations.
“I think that it would be a good idea to discuss what to do about the special exam.”
It was a message from Hirata-kun. Though I was disappointed, I was slightly brought back to reality.
“That’s right… I need to think about it, even if I don’t want to…” I muttered.
No doubt the other classes were already making moves in anticipation of the upcoming special exam. And yet, I… Suddenly, my view of the ceiling was distorted.
“Am I…crying?” I asked.
I gently wiped the area around my eyes with my index finger. Unbelievably, my fingertip was wet.
“He made me cry again…” I sighed for what felt like the millionth time this week. I couldn’t control my emotions. I couldn’t regain my composure.
“Why…?” I thought aloud. “I don’t know…is this really real?” I asked.
I didn’t feel good. I still couldn’t understand why this was happening. No, it was that I didn’t want to understand, so I continued to refuse to do so. It was as if the time I spent staring at the plate out in front of the Class 3-A classroom on the day that I became a third-year was a fleeting dream. I could no longer recall the elation and tension I felt at that moment.
I wished I could go back in time to the morning of the opening ceremony. And then I would grab his arm and detain him before he abandoned the class. I would have begged him not to transfer, and—
“There wouldn’t be any point in doing that, though… I know there wouldn’t…” I sighed.
How many times was I going to go over the same imaginary scenarios? It was a waste of my time. Even if God were to allow such a miracle to happen, I was sure that Ayanokouji-kun wouldn’t have been swayed by my pleas. If, for the sake of argument, this had been some outlandish plan that he had thought of yesterday or today, then I might have been able to dissuade him. But it wasn’t. Ayanokouji-kun had already made the decision to transfer before the year even began.
When did he…? I didn’t know. Whether it was a week or a month…there wasn’t any point in going back to the morning of the opening ceremony.
Help me…
Ayanokouji-kun…
Save me…
6.5
WHILE HORIKITA WAS sitting on the bench engaging in conversation with Kushida, Ryuuen had summoned Ishizaki and Albert, as well as Katsuragi and Ibuki, and headed to karaoke. This was one of the places that this class regularly used for confidential meetings. Which seat each person sat was predetermined as a natural result of these repeated meetings. Ishizaki muttered to himself as he looked at what was available on the food menu.
“Hey, Ibuki. They got this new thing on the menu, fried pasta or somethin’. Can I order it?” asked Ishizaki.
He asked her that question while pointing to it on the menu.
“Why are you asking me? Just go ahead and order whatever you want,” snapped Ibuki.
“Way back when, my old man used to talk about it when he came home from the hostess club. He always said that fried pasta was crazy good, so I wanted to try it at least once,” said Ishizaki.
“No one gives a shit about this walk down memory lane,” replied Ibuki.
“Pasta or no pasta, it doesn’t matter. First, we have things to discuss. This special exam isn’t going to be easy. Actually, I suppose that would go for any special exam,” said Katsuragi, who was sitting farthest in the back with arms crossed, urging Ishizaki and the others to prioritize making a strategy. “I’m sure you already know this, but no matter how favorable of a light we cast ourselves in, this is the kind of exam that Class B is weakest in,” he added.
“Well, studying probably won’t help matters, though,” replied Ibuki resignedly.
In a competition of academics, their chances of winning were slim. Among all of the shortcomings that Ryuuen’s class had, this was inarguably their biggest weakness. Although they had managed to reach Class B not only due to their abilities but also thanks to luck, they had never been able to figure out a winning strategy for this kind of exam. Moreover, they were going up against what was formerly Class A, which was filled with students who had an established reputation for having the highest level of Academic Ability.
“If the goal is to win, then it’s inevitable that this will be a tough battle,” said Katsuragi.
“Why don’t we just give up? I mean, we might as well. If it’s just a hundred Class Points, that’s not that big a deal,” said Ibuki.
“Don’t give up just like that before we even try, Ibuki!” snapped Ishizaki.
“Okay, then are you gonna study twenty-four hours a day until the exam without sleeping or taking breaks? Even if you did, I can’t imagine you’d score high enough to make up the difference,” replied Ibuki.
“U-uh… Well… That’d be harsh, though…” sighed Ishizaki.
“That’s because you don’t study on a regular basis. You haven’t even done any of the assignments that I’ve given you,” said Katsuragi.
“Why do I gotta do homework that you force on me when I already hate studyin’ at school as it is, Katsuragi?!” wailed Ishizaki.
“Because it’s for the good of the class. In fact, the students who are taking this seriously are steadily improving their academic performance,” replied Katsuragi, stressing that students were getting results.
But Ishizaki averted his eyes, embarrassed. “Studyin’ enough so I don’t flunk out is the absolute best I can do. If I read any more than that, my head’s gonna explode dude, it’ll fly right off,” he said.
Katsuragi sighed in response to Ishizaki’s attitude and looked at Ryuuen. “I think you ought to be stricter with your command. If you were, Ishizaki and the others would likely be more motivated,” he said.
“You know what they say, there ain’t no cure for stupidity,” replied Ryuuen. “Besides, we don’t gotta deliberately step into our opponent’s ring. I had no intention whatsoever of fightin’ ’em head-on from the beginning anyway.”
Ryuuen immediately let them know that he had discarded any approach that had little chances of winning from the start.
“But they are a formidable foe. Even if Sakayanagi is gone, there are many students who specialize in academics in Class C. It’s not like they’ve suffered a significant decrease in ability,” argued Katsuragi.
Ishizaki, who had been listening to the conversation thus far but not really taking it seriously, stood up and made a fist, saying, “Ain’t no ‘decrease’ at all, dude! With Ayanokouji joinin’ ’em, it’s actually like, they got super powered-up. Shit, dude! Why’d he go to Class C… I don’t get it at all. Do you know why?”
“Don’t ask me. Besides, it’s not necessary to try and understand what’s going on in his head,” snapped Ibuki.
Trying to form a relationship with him had led to things becoming troublesome in the first place. It was because Ibuki had experienced it firsthand that she now adhered to a stance of fundamental avoidance. When they were headed to the café, Ibuki rejected coming along in one second flat. Thanks to that, her mental state hadn’t deteriorated, and she had been able to spend her time in relative peace. However, it was a fragile situation, as she just so happened to bump into him now and then in unexpected places.
“Seriously, it’s like an overpowered enemy just appeared, dude…” sighed Ishizaki.
“It’d be a problem if that weren’t true, because that’s where my ultimate goal lies,” said Ryuuen.
Ryuuen needed Ayanokouji to be a formidable opponent. Ishizaki felt like that statement was somewhat out of character for Ryuuen, but he nodded quietly, not really wanting to get into it.
“I suppose so,” Katsuragi said. “However, I’m only partially convinced of his greatness. Of course, I do not deny that Ayanokouji has some excellent qualities, such as his composure and his occasional moments of sharp insight, but there’s still something missing, something that makes me unable to hate him… Still, I am unable to judge him as a student who surpasses Sakayanagi.”
“Well, that’s ’cause you haven’t seen Ayanokouji’s awesomeness up close and personal, Katsuragi. It’s crazy, my dude. Right, Ibuki?” said Ishizaki.
“I already told you, do not include me in this. There is nothing that pisses me off more than talking about him. I hate him from the bottom of my heart,” said Ibuki.
“So, who do you hate more, him or Horikita? You complain ’bout her a lot too,” asked Ishizaki.
“That’s…a tough choice. It’s like asking which eye to get rid of, the right or the left,” replied Ibuki.
“That’s freaky. What the hell kinda analogy is that?” said Ishizaki.
Ryuuen, after casting a sidelong glance at the two of them as they engaged in such trivial banter, briefly looked up at the ceiling, seemingly unconcerned. Katsuragi directed his gaze at Ishizaki at that moment.
“How did Ayanokouji, Hashimoto, and others seem to be after Ayanokouji’s transfer? What was the reason he went there in the first place?” asked Katsuragi.
“I dunno, dude. Or like, I kinda think that maybe he doesn’t care if he’s in A or C or whatever. Oh, he said that C helped him out, but I dunno if that’s true,” said Ishizaki.
“Maybe he became the leader so he could do whatever he wanted?” offered Ibuki.
“It’s certainly true that the leadership position in their class is open now that Sakayanagi is gone, but…if you ask me, I thought that Ayanokouji was the type to do things quietly, without standing out or making a scene,” said Katsuragi, letting his own supposition be known before posing the same question to Ryuuen. “What do you think?”
“Dunno. If he comes out into the open now that he’s transferred, I don’t care what his reason is,” said Ryuuen. Perhaps he had collected all his thoughts, because he then directed his gaze back at Katsuragi. “If we were to do things like ‘normal’ in this special exam, it’s 99 percent certain that we’d lose, regardless of if Ayanokouji was there or not. But it ain’t like the rules don’t got holes. This exam’s designed in such a way that, as long as you got the ammo, you can get the advantage in a number of ways. That ain’t a bad thing.”
“That’s true, but…does that mean you’re going to put the Private Points you’ve accumulated into this?” asked Katsuragi.
“Headhunting Ayanokouji must’ve come with a hefty price tag. On top of that, since they have the advantage in Academic Ability, they can try for the win with minimal investment. So now is the right time to do it,” said Ryuuen.
In this situation, it wasn’t going to be a tit-for-tat in spending money. Class C couldn’t spend what they didn’t have; they could only fight purely based on their Academic Ability and with the penalties they were able to allocate.
“I understand what you’re trying to say, but this gap in Academic Ability isn’t something that can be so easily bridged by purchasing a few additional penalties,” Katsuragi said. “Even if we purchase dozens of penalties for all their viable students, we’ll just barely be competitive. You can’t say that’s a very efficient plan. It’s also not as though you can predict all five of the candidates they’ll be choosing, right?”
“So, you’re a naysayer, then?” asked Ryuuen.
“That is not what I mean. I’m saying that if you’re only going to do this halfway, then don’t do it at all. To go in with a high probability of winning, we… Well, this is an overly optimistic calculation at this juncture, but I’d like to take an additional three hundred points from them. In that case, we would need to pump at least fifteen million Private Points into this exam.”
“I-it’s gonna take spendin’ fifteen mil to win?! Like hell!” shouted Ishizaki.
“There are no absolute guarantees, even with that,” Katsuragi clarified. “If hypothetically, we were to inflict penalties on everyone, the number of points we could take from each individual student would be about ten. Now let’s assume that our opponent can guess who we’ll have participate, and they concentrate their initial one hundred penalties on those five students, taking twenty points from each of them. That means we’d actually start out about ten points down per person. Of course, the chances of that happening are slim, but if we hypothesize what the worst-case scenario could be, such a thing is conceivable.”
In a scenario like that, they wouldn’t be starting on even ground, even if they spent a lot of points. If they were mistaken in their predictions, their Private Points would amount to nothing. Katsuragi explained that he was concerned about that aspect.
“The only way to increase our chances even further would be to spend an additional ten to twenty million. Or we could try to narrow down the list of candidates in their class and go for taking around twenty points from each of them, more or less. However, it’s difficult for me to say that this is the best way to increase our chances of winning,” added Katsuragi.
“If we mess up, we’ll be flat broke,” said Ryuuen.
“Yes. But even if it’s a risk to spend that much money, if you’ve decided that you’re going to go for the win, I have no reason to stop you. Because even if a complete victory is impossible, you are absolutely not permitted to lose,” said Katsuragi.
That bar was by no means low. Ibuki, who had been listening along while taking things with a grain of salt, looked up.
“Hearing all that made me think that maybe it’d be better to just give up on this exam after all,” she quipped at Ryuuen, who was showing a willingness to try and compete.
“H-hey, come on, Ibuki! You tryin’ to offer your opinion to Ryuuen-san?!” shouted Ishizaki.
“Why shouldn’t I? He called me here because he wanted my input, right? If not, then I’ll show myself out, okay?” argued Ibuki.
Ibuki motioned that she was going to leave, and Ryuuen laughed at her.
“Lemme ask you why ya think that,” he said.
“Well, simply ’cause we’re at a great disadvantage,” she replied. “As Katsuragi said, we can’t compete by studying. And sure, you say that you might be able to win if you use Private Points, but the rewards aren’t worth the cost by any stretch of the imagination. The fact that I, of all people, think this is crazy is proof enough.”
“I agree with Ibuki,” Katsuragi said. “You can hardly say that the cost-effectiveness of this plan is good even if you were being charitable. And even if you pull off a complete victory, the rewards certainly aren’t significant.”
Katsuragi’s point of view was clearly aligned with Ibuki’s.
“Sure, if you’re only lookin’ at the payoffs that are tangible, that might be true,” said Ryuuen.
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Ibuki.
“This is most definitely a test where it’d be natural for us to lose. For the other side, though, this is an exam that they absolutely couldn’t lose. If they take it as a given that they’d win, then they wouldn’t consciously feel any pressure. So when they really do lose, the damage and shock’ll be an order of magnitude bigger,” explained Ryuuen.
“You’re saying that you want to put a damper on Ayanokouji’s start? But would a forced victory be damaging enough to make such a statement?” asked Katsuragi.
“It will. I painfully experienced such a thing myself, with that incident up on the rooftop,” said Ryuuen.
Ryuuen, his fists drawn together, had a sharp gleam in his eyes. He prided himself on his domineering violence and having a heart that would never, ever be swayed, as the only thing on his mind was his eventual victory, no matter the methods or costs. However, Ayanokouji, someone who brazenly went into enemy territory alone and overwhelmed others, was outside of the norm. Ayanokouji had beaten what Ryuuen thought was his ultimate strategy, both literally and mentally. The amount of time it took Ryuuen to recover from being cast down to the bottom was by no means short.
“The students in Class C, and Ayanokouji for that matter, would never think they’d lose to us here. Still, deep down, they’re terrified about the unlikely chance that they do. And it’s ’zactly ’cause it’s that kind of exam that there’s a point to fightin’. If we can destroy his new start so soon after his transfer, it’ll be a bigger advantage than the actual difference between us,” said Ryuuen.
Even though the reward was only one hundred points, the fact that Class Points would definitely be awarded couldn’t be ignored either. In comparison to the difference between Ryuuen’s class and Horikita’s class, the difference between Ryuuen’s class and Class C was by no means small. Considering that Class C was in a situation where they couldn’t afford to lose, being able to definitively pull ahead of them with additional Class Points would be a great accomplishment. Their remaining time at school was only going to get shorter, not longer, after all.
“Still though, at least fifteen mil to win, dude… That’s expensive…” said Ishizaki, counting on his fingers as he tried to process the cost of the ammunition that it was going to take to win.
“Normally, that amount alone’d be enough to create a possibility, but our opponent’s Ayanokouji,” Ryuuen said. “There’s no way he didn’t calculate that I’d be prepared to self-destruct and use up a ton of Points. If he can prevent us from getting a complete victory, he might consider that to be enough, even if they have to wrench total victory away by effectively using penalties.”
Because they couldn’t make use of the penalties in the Whole Class Competition, in essence, Ryuuen’s opponent already had two victories in hand.
“Hmm…I understand what you’re saying, but the risks seem too great to me, no matter how you slice it,” said Katsuragi.
That was something that Ryuuen himself, the one advocating for this plan, understood as well. If he had no doubts at all, he wouldn’t have set up a forum like this to ask Katsuragi and others for their opinions. Would they go for this special exam or throw it? That decision needed to be finalized before anything else. After casting a sidelong glance at Ryuuen, who wasn’t coming to a final decision just yet despite his desire to go after Ayanokouji, Katsuragi turned his gaze toward Ibuki.
“How is Horikita?” he asked.
“Huh? Why are you asking me?” snapped Ibuki.
“I’ve been told that you’ve been having meals in Horikita’s room often. I understand that she has been quite nonplussed as of late, but has she recovered?” asked Katsuragi.
“Uh, no, I don’t think she has. Even when I try to visit her dorm room, she turns me away at the door. And she’s always got this depressing look on her face, which in turn makes me feel annoyed and depressed,” said Ibuki.
Even though a week had passed since the transfer, Ibuki was saying that she had not been able to see any signs of improvement.
“I see. This will likely be a tough special exam if you’re in a state of mind where you’re not fully present,” remarked Katsuragi.
“Serves her right. It’d be great if she lost horribly, like the loser she is,” said Ibuki.
“Dude, that’s so mean. She’s your friend ain’t she? You sure you should be that mean?” said Ishizaki.
“Say what? She’s not my friend,” snapped Ibuki.
“I’m not one to revel in people’s misfortunes, but if Class A stumbles, then that’s a situation we ought to be grateful for. Ichinose picking up a win or two doesn’t pose that much of a threat to us,” said Katsuragi.
Katsuragi thought that if there were a reason to force a win to happen, that would be it. If Ryuuen’s class could catch up to Class A, it would create the possibility to pass them while on a roll. After such chatting continued for a while, Ryuuen drank all of the water in his cup on the table in one swift gulp.
“My battle strategy has been decided,” he announced.
“You’re going to attack the enemy with everything you have then, after all?” asked Katsuragi.
Pouring Private Points into it and winning the special exam no matter what. Katsuragi asked that question, having judged that Ryuuen seemed to have firmly thought that you couldn’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.
“What do you think’ll be most important for Class C, for Ayanokouji specifically, in the upcoming special exam?” asked Ryuuen.
“That would be Ayanokouji getting his first win, I suppose,” said Katsuragi.
“That’s right,” Ryuuen said. “He got those Class C clowns to pay up for him so that he could take up the leader job in Sakayanagi’s place and do whatever he wants. But Class C ain’t that stupid. Ain’t no way they’re gonna entrust everything to some guy who hasn’t demonstrated anything. In that case, Ayanokouji’s gonna wanna win no matter what. On top o’ that, there ain’t no way they’d tolerate losing an exam that they were supposed to easily win. In a sense, this is his first and last chance.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. He’d look lame as hell if he just up and lost after suddenly taking charge after transferring in,” added Ibuki with a nod. Ishizaki, in complete agreement, nodded as well.
“So, we aim to sink the Class C ship in one go, rather than taking a whole year to do so? Hmm…” said Katsuragi.
“Even if he knows he’s got the advantage, and no matter how simple the exam is, he’s always gonna take it seriously, as long as he hasn’t lost interest. All ’cause he does things with an infuriatingly abnormal mindset. If we ain’t careful, it wouldn’t be the least bit surprisin’ if he figured out all five of the students we’re choosin’ for the Small Group Competition,” said Ryuuen.
If Ryuuen selected his students by rolling the dice, it really would be impossible for Ayanokouji to know. However, Ayanokouji was skilled enough to make Ryuuen think that he might just guess correctly despite that.
“There’s also the possibility that he’ll use what little money he has to buy additional penalties,” replied Katsuragi.
“If that happens, we’ll reciprocate, tit for tat. Financial power’s the name of the game,” said Ryuuen.
“He’ll try to find out what we’re up to, no doubt. To be honest, dude, I can’t even imagine what kinda stuff he’ll try to pull,” said Ishizaki.
Ishizaki’s mutterings, which were close to being a soliloquy, were the same suspicions that swirled around in Ryuuen’s mind as well. There were no holes in this special exam that could be cut wide open. Ryuuen couldn’t imagine that Ayanokouji would have any qualms about making moves that would break the rules, but he figured that Ayanokouji wouldn’t be the type to fuck around and find out the way that Ryuuen himself would. To begin with, there wasn’t any reason for Ayanokouji to needlessly put himself in danger against an opponent that was greatly inferior in terms of basic academic skills either. It was a problem that Ayanokouji could only solve if he obtained reliable information from Ryuuen’s camp.
“I think it would be a good idea for us to pay especially close attention to Hashimoto and Yamamura,” said Katsuragi, and Ryuuen nodded slightly in agreement.
“Wait, Yamamura? Who’s that? Was there a Yamamura in Class C?” asked Ibuki.
Ibuki, who didn’t remember hearing the name Yamamura before, tilted her head to the side.
“Heh heh, if you think you can steal information from me, go ahead and try, Ayanokouji,” Ryuuen proclaimed.
Who would the penalties be inflicted on? For every bit of information there was, including that one, Ryuuen wasn’t going to leave even a sliver of a chance that it would leak. There was no way that Ayanokouji could guess precisely, and if it were possible, it would entirely be based on foresight. Ryuuen was sure that something like that was absolutely impossible. Though he was confident, he was also somewhat anxious, yet hopeful. He was curious to see how Ayanokouji could make the impossible possible.
“Excellent. Then with that in mind, I will begin to make my move as well,” said Katsuragi.
Katsuragi, deciding to strike while the iron was hot, headed for the karaoke exit. It was precisely because he contributed so much to the improvement of the class’s academic performance that he had a strong sense of responsibility for what happened in examinations that were tests of academic skill. And, as Katsuragi’s back turned to him, Ryuuen said…
Chapter 7: School Life in Class C
Chapter 7:
School Life in Class C
SUNDAY HAD ARRIVED. Today I was meeting up with Yoshida and Shiraishi so that I could create deeper bonds of friendship with my new classmates. What’s more, Shiraishi was bringing one of her friends along, though I didn’t know who. Since we were scheduled to meet at ten thirty, I left my room about fifteen minutes ahead of time after I finished getting ready. The meeting place was right out in front of the dormitory. When I got down to the lobby and went outside, I saw Yoshida there already, looking restless.
“H-hey. You’re sure early, Ayanokouji,” said Yoshida.
“You more than me, Yoshida,” I replied.
“Well, that’s because I’m a gentleman. I wouldn’t dare make a girl wait.”
“Based on what you’re saying, it sounds like you’ve been waiting since very early in the morning then.”
“Of course not, no. Just since nine thirty or so.”
That was incredibly early, no matter how you sliced it. He had planned to wait for as long as an hour. It seemed like the amount of passion he had for a special someone was major. However, I was skeptical as to whether arriving an hour early would lead to an increase in likability. Deliberately going out of your way to make a show of your passion might just give off the impression of being too clingy.
Such was my first impression of his actions. Before, I probably wouldn’t have been able to interpret these kinds of things so smoothly. I realized that I had come to understand these ways of thinking through my relationship with Karuizawa. However, there were no perfectly correct answers when it came to love, and the difficulties lie in the fact that you need to assess the object of your affection and engage with them in the way they wanted you to.
“Do you like Shiraishi?” I asked.
From what I’d observed, I felt like he did, and so did Shiraishi, the object of his affections, herself. I didn’t think that I was mistaken, but I figured I’d try asking to be sure, just in case.
“Huh?! N-no way! What are you even sayin’ all of a sudden?!” exclaimed Yoshida.
I see. In his words, that meant that yes, he liked her. A disagreeable refusal meant he liked her, while an agreeable refusal would have meant that he didn’t like her. Things that normally wouldn’t happen could happen when it came to love. This was one of the easy-to-understand textbook examples of that.
“Well, that more or less confirms it,” I replied.
“W-wait a minute, don’t tell me that you…you like Shiraishi? Do you? Wait, shit! Did you break up with Karuizawa and transfer to our class so you could… Is that what’s going on?!” shouted Yoshida.
There was an incredible amount of self-serving interpretation going on here. Even though he said that he didn’t like her, the expression on his face indicated otherwise. In fact, he was openly showing animosity, but the person in question didn’t seem to notice it at all.
“Sorry, but I don’t have such feelings for her,” I replied.
“Y-you don’t have to lie, okay? It’s none of my business. If you want, I can even help you and Shiraishi get closer. That sound good?” Yoshida offered.
That was an incredibly forced show to make it look like he didn’t really care, even though obviously he did—quite a lot, in fact. He continued to dig his own grave, but there was no point in dragging this topic out any further.
“I’ll pass. I’d rather you tell me about the class. There are things I wanted to know about,” I replied.
“O-oh…man, look at you, trying to play it cool. No worries, though. Anyway, yeah, I’m sure you need to get to know the class since you just transferred. I’ll make a special effort to teach you, so just ask m—err, Hashimoto. Ask Hashimoto. He thinks highly of you and I’m sure he’ll talk your ear off about everything and anything.”
“There are some things that I can’t ask Hashimoto.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like an evaluation of Hashimoto’s current situation from the class’s perspective, and how the class feels about him. Those kinds of things.”
“An evaluation of Hashimoto, huh? Well, there’s more bad than good, that’s for sure. I think he’s been maneuvering cleverly, though.”
When Yoshida first started letting me know his thoughts, his gaze turned toward the lobby. At that instant, we heard a bright and cheerful voice.
“Good morning, Yosshii, Ayanokouji-kun!”
The person who appeared at the meeting place was…not Shiraishi, but for some reason, Nishikawa Ryouko. I had thought she might have just so happened to greet me as a friendly new classmate, but she stopped and stood in front of me.
“Let’s make it a great day today!” she exclaimed.
“Ugh, Nishikawa…” groaned Yoshida.
“Come on, you don’t need to make such a nasty face, do you?” she replied.
“Are you going to be coming along with Shiraishi, by any chance?” he asked.
“Well, yeah, of course. You didn’t seriously think that you could have a date with just Asuka all alone, now did you?” she asked in return.
“I wasn’t expecting it to be a date!” he shouted.
While that wasn’t to say there wasn’t any expectation in terms of deepening bonds of friendship and companionship, that apparently wasn’t enough for the direction Nishikawa wanted to take today’s outing in.
“Oh? Reaaally?” teased Nishikawa. “I heard that you were soooo eager to come along when you got invited out on the weekend, and you were probably expecting something special, weren’t you? Especially knowing you, Yosshii, you definitely were.”
“N-no! Th-that’s a total misunderstanding!” he protested.
As far as Yoshida was concerned, I could confidently say that that was the direction he was hoping things to go.
“Y’know, Yosshii, I’ve got some important advice for you, as a classmate,” said Nishikawa.
“Wh-what is it?” he asked.
“You had better give up on Asuka specifically. Oh, and this advice applies to you too, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Nishikawa. Then she drew in close and lowered the volume of her voice a little while scanning the area for Shiraishi.
“Asuka’s level of experience isn’t normal, if you know what I mean,” she added.
Level of experience? I actually didn’t know what in the world that was supposed to mean.
“Huh…? L-level of experience?” asked Yoshida.
Yoshida seemed to have the same questions I did, but he also seemed to have guessed something.
“You know what I’m talking about. Asuka, Slayer of a Hundred. I’m sure you’ve at least heard that nickname,” said Nishikawa.
“Are…you saying that the rumor is true, then…?” sputtered Yoshida.
“That’s right. This isn’t the kind of story that you can just make up,” said Nishikawa.
I didn’t really understand, but it did seem to greatly shock Yoshida. However, I couldn’t grasp what that nickname was supposed to mean.
“It’s not like making a hundred friends?” I asked.
“Huh? What are you talking about, one hundred friends?” asked Nishikawa.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Never mind,” I replied.
I knew it, that didn’t have anything to do with this…
Though it seemed like I was still unable to forget the rhythmic way that Morishita had said that bizarre line to me.
“‘Slayer of a Hundred’ is a nickname that she’s been given because she’s had that kind of relationship with a hundred boys. She’s cute, and she’s got a certain kind of sexiness to her, don’t you think?” said Nishikawa.
That kind of relationship… Nishikawa was being vague, but from the sounds of it, I guessed that most likely she meant a “deep” relationship.
“I dunno about that. Anyway, I’m not sure I fully understand it, but I generally get what you’re trying to say,” said Yoshida.
Apparently, my seat neighbor was far more of a specialist in matters of love than Yoshida was.
“Oh, so you think you can sweep Asuka off her feet, do ya?” asked Nishikawa.
“Look, I’m telling you, I’m not interested!” he shouted.
“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll just leave it at that. I guess that means you’re giving up on this rare opportunity. But…you know, if you get down on your knees and begged at least once, you just might get the chance to have sweet dreams, at least for just one night,” said Nishikawa.
“F-for real?” he sputtered.
“Ohhh? I thought you just said that you weren’t interested, though?” replied Nishikawa.
Apparently, this Nishikawa person was the type who liked to make fun of other people. If I were to compare her to another student, I would say that she seemed similar to Amasawa.
“If her nickname is ‘Slayer of a Hundred,’ does that mean if the count gets to two hundred people, her nickname will become ‘Slayer of Two Hundred’?” I asked.
When I asked Nishikawa that question, simply out of curiosity, her eyes widened in surprise.
“You know, despite how you look Ayanokouji-kun, you have some interesting ideas,” said Nishikawa.
“Really? I just ask when I feel I have questions though,” I replied.
“The answer to your question would probably be ‘no,’ I think,” said Nishikawa.
“I see. I suppose it’d be hard to keep everyone in the loop with the latest number,” I replied.
“That’s not what I meant, though… I’m saying, ‘a hundred’ gets the meaning across, right? It has that certain oomph,” said Nishikawa.
“Oomph,” huh? So, she was saying that in romantic love, it’d give you an edge.
“Sigh…It’s still early in the morning and I’m already exhausted. I’m gonna sit down and wait,” said Yoshida as he walked over to the nearby bench, looking somewhat down in the dumps, perhaps since all his energy had been zapped away.
Nishikawa looked over at him with amusement and then turned her attention to me.
“Usually, when boys hear this about Asuka, they tend to react in one of two ways: Either they’re shocked, depressed, and disgusted by the ‘one hundred people’ thing, or, on the opposite end, they salivate over the chance to be number one hundred and one. I wonder which way Yosshii will turn out to be. You don’t seem to be leaning either way right now, Ayanokouji-kun, but how do you honestly feel about it?” she asked.
“I’d say it’s made me respect her, I suppose. It’s honestly amazing to have relationships like that with a hundred people your age,” I replied.
“Huh? You really think so? It feels like…you really do think that,” she replied.
“Isn’t a specialist in any field someone to be respected, no matter what it is? Sorry for bringing up my previous class, but I mean like, there’s Sudou with basketball, Onodera with swimming, and Inokashira with sewing…” I replied.
“Well, I don’t know about sewing, but I don’t think it’s exactly the same kind of ‘amazing’ you’re comparing it to,” Nishikawa paused. “…Anyway, Ayanokouji-kun, you really are an odd one, no matter how you think about it. You transferred into our class, which is below yours, for some reason or another.”
I had been honestly complimenting Shiraishi on her one hundred conquests, without any lies or falsehoods in my words, but for some reason, Nishikawa seemed to have gotten a little hung up on it. She had been smiling broadly this entire time since she had arrived, but as she pulled back, her expression changed to a slight grin.
“Hmm… Actually, wait, hold on a sec,” said Nishikawa. She pursed her lips in apparent frustration as she pondered something. “Hey. If you wanna know, lemme tell you something good, Ayanokouji-kun. I’ll tell only you.”
Nishikawa, wearing a broad smile once again—though it now seemed slightly mean-spirited—quietly drew closer to me and said, “Why is Asuka called ‘Slayer of a Hundred’? And why did she want to hang out with you? To tell the truth, there’s a major reason for that.”
“A major reason?” I asked.
The delivery of her remarks this time was quite masterful, as it left me a little curious. I traced my memory back to the day of the opening ceremony. My seat was decided thanks to Morishita’s suggestion. The fact that Shiraishi Asuka was sitting beside me was just a coincidence. But if these two had had a hand in convincing Morishita to suggest what she did, then that would be a different story…
“Would you mind leaning in close? Especially since this is something I can’t let Yosshii hear,” said Nishikawa.
“Sure,” I replied.
Because of the height difference between us, I arched my back a little and hunched down so that I could position my ear near Nishikawa’s mouth.
“I think it’s because Asuka wants to make you number one hundred and one, Ayanokouji-kun. I believe she doesn’t have any romantic feelings for you, of course, she’s just playing with you. So? Doesn’t that make you happy?” she asked.
Nishikawa was telling me all this as if it were hot gossip, but whether or not it was true was highly questionable.
“What’s your intention behind telling me this?” I asked.
“Nothing really, just for fun. I simply like helping a guy and a girl get together to have some fun,” said Nishikawa.
“Sorry, but if that’s true, I’ll pass.”
“Wh-why?”
“If I did have something like that with Shiraishi, then it’s possible that that story could spread, either through you, Nishikawa, or through Shiraishi herself. Inevitably, our classmate Yoshida would hear about it eventually too. That would only be a hindrance in the days to come as I fight in Class C,” I replied.
When I answered with that, I put some distance between Nishikawa and myself. Still with her trademark smile, Nishikawa’s eyes narrowed a little in frustration over having me turn down her proposal.
“Maybe I need to change my view of you a little, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Nishikawa.
I thought that maybe Nishikawa was someone who would always tease the new guys like this, but the displeasure and hostility apparent in her retort told me otherwise.
“Good morning.”
As the appointed time of our meeting approached, the person in question, Shiraishi, emerged from the lobby.
“Morning, Asuka!” exclaimed Nishikawa.
Immediately after Shiraishi appeared, the emotions Nishikawa had been exhibiting dissipated, and she returned to being the cheerful girl from moments earlier. Yoshida too, who had been down in the dumps on the bench, immediately rushed over toward us as well. Nishikawa stood next to Shiraishi and offered another greeting.
“Once again, I’m looking forward to spending time with you today, Ayanokouji-kun. And you too, by the way, Yosshii,” said Nishikawa.
“I’m just a ‘by the way,’ huh?” huffed Yoshida.
It seemed like I might have a harder time figuring out the inner workings of this class than I had previously thought. With Nishikawa leading the way, we headed to the karaoke box in Keyaki Mall. In a private room with L-shaped seats, we sat down in the order of Shiraishi, Nishikawa, me, and then Yoshida, with Shiraishi furthest in the back.
“Well, then, shall we start singing right away?” Nishikawa asked.
Without even looking at the food menu, Nishikawa took the microphone and handed it over to Yoshida.
“Why am I gonna be the one singing? Don’t you usually start with the new guy in these sorts of situations?” stammered Yoshida.
“That kind of thing can be construed as harassment. First, you need to set an example, Yosshii,” said Nishikawa.
“I dunno about that. Besides, I don’t really like singing all that much,” said Yoshida.
Nishikawa got close to Yoshida, who was resistant to going along with things, and whispered something in his ear. Immediately afterward, Yoshida smacked both of his cheeks in an attempt to get himself fired up.
“Welp, guess I just gotta do it. Okay, I’ll sing a bit,” said Yoshida.
I could guess what sweet nothings Nishikawa had filled his head with, but at any rate, he appeared to be motivated now. As Yoshida’s chosen song began playing, Nishikawa demanded to switch places with me. When I did as I was told and switched with her, Shiraishi got up and closed the physical distance between us. We were so close that it was hard to tell whether the edges of our clothing were touching or not.
“I wanted to have a nice leisurely chat with you at least once, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Shiraishi.
“We sit next to each other, so couldn’t we do that any time?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t feel relaxed at school, I suppose,” Shiraishi replied.
Yoshida’s passionate singing, which wasn’t good by any stretch but full of emotion, echoed throughout the room. Nishikawa was singing and clapping along, doing her best to keep the excitement going.
“I’m not sure if you could call this environment a relaxing one though,” I replied.
When it came to guys and girls hanging out together, you would think there would be a minimum degree of personal space in place, but with Shiraishi, there was no such thing. We continued speaking while huddled close together. I supposed this must have been one of the techniques of Shiraishi, Slayer of a Hundred.
“Ryouko-san is my best friend,” said Shiraishi.
“Right. I had a hunch you two were close. It seems like you’re often spending time with Nishikawa, like on your days off and during lunch,” I replied.
Before long, the first song ended, and the karaoke room returned to silence.
“Hey, what’re you two doing over there, whispering all close together like that?!” shouted Yoshida.
“You have a lovely singing voice, Yoshida-kun. Please, give us an encore,” Shiraishi encouraged.
“Huh? R-really? Well, if you say so, I… Wait, hold on, you two are so close, I—” sputtered Yoshida.
“Okay, okay, Yosshii. Now then, let’s get onto the second song!” exclaimed Nishikawa as she forcibly sat down next to Yoshida, not letting him run away just as he was about to release the microphone.
“Since we’re in the same class now, how about we exchange contact info?” asked Shiraishi.
“Yeah, we should do that,” I replied.
We each took out our phones and exchanged info. Now we were able to call or message each other anytime.
“You can contact me whenever you like,” said Shiraishi.
I could sense Shiraishi’s friendliness, kindness, and consideration from the lack of distance between us and from her words. But was this truly what she meant to do, I wondered.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“I was simply curious about why you’re treating me so warmly. Most of the other students, like Shimazaki, seem to be watching me from a distance, even now,” I replied.
“We’re seat neighbors. And I think that it’s destiny that we just so happened to be all alone in the classroom that morning,” stated Shiraishi.
“I don’t think that’s big enough to call ‘destiny,’ though…” I replied.
“You may feel that way, Ayanokouji-kun, but that’s honestly how I interpreted it,” said Shiraishi.
When she said that, Shiraishi touched my hand, doing so in such a way to make sure that Yoshida couldn’t see.
“What nice hands. Your fingers are long, and your nails are beautiful,” Shiraishi said.
“Sorry, but let go of my hand. If Yoshida sees, he’ll misunderstand things,” I replied.
When I told her that, Shiraishi was a little surprised, but she slowly released my hand.
“You really are an interesting one, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Shiraishi.
It might have been better if I took her actions as unrelated to what Nishikawa had said about Shiraishi’s tendencies toward the opposite sex. At first glance, it seemed like she was trying to take things in that direction, but her eyes weren’t saying that at all. They were the eyes of someone looking at a deeply interesting test subject, and like a guinea pig in a small box. At the very least, that was how this situation felt to me.
7.1
AFTER TRANSFERRING CLASSES, my relationships with the others began to change, albeit slowly. However, there were also some things in my school life that remained the same—namely, classes. Generally speaking, during lessons, students were quiet and focused, spending most of their time alternatively staring at the monitor or their tablets. Only the person in charge of teaching the material was speaking; this sort of scene was similar no matter which class you belonged to.
The students seemed to be taking their lessons even more seriously with the special exam on the horizon. The contents of the lessons themselves aren’t worth detailing; they were just reviewing the materials and going over things they’d learned years ago in their academic journeys. In such unchanging times, if I had to point out a difference between this class and Horikita’s, it would be that this class was highly efficient in their studies and didn’t waste a single second.
At any rate, there were individual differences in learning ability, with some students being quick on the uptake and others not. Therefore, when students like Ike and Hondou had trouble keeping up, they didn’t hesitate to ask the teacher many questions. It wasn’t unusual for the class to be stopped frequently because of this. On the other hand, things progressed extremely smoothly for Class C, as the students were generally highly willing to learn, quick to pick up on concepts, and knew how to study. Because they had a firm foundation for learning in place, this created a virtuous cycle which led to the improvement of everyone’s academic performance.
Also, today was self-study, which was a time that students tended to skip or would, against their better judgment, let their minds wander. There wasn’t a teacher standing watch nearby, so I could hear some private conversations going on, but even so, most students were earnestly working on their assignments. Though Horikita’s class had matured quite a lot over these past two years, it wasn’t surprising that they hadn’t yet caught up with Class C in this regard, both with learning, and—
Hm? Something feels kind of off. Is it just my imagination?
Even though I tried, I couldn’t shake an odd feeling I had. Something was definitely strange…but what?
I’m not imagining things, am I?
While I was still in the middle of writing something on my tablet, stylus pen in hand, I stopped moving my hands. That was because I felt a very slight something on my head, over and over, repeatedly. It was almost undetectable. The first time I felt it, I thought it was probably just a draft playing tricks on me, but that wasn’t it. Clearly, repeatedly, and in unspecified places in my hair, there was some kind of sensation. I slowly turned around to look behind me in search of the cause.
“What?”
Morishita hissed her question at me, giving me a look that was almost like a glare. She had a stylus pen in her hand, just like me, and seemed to be working on her assignment.
“Uh, well…” I replied.
“Looking away from the board during class, even if it’s during self-study time, is something that a bad student would do. Please face forward and focus on your assignment properly,” said Morishita.
She responded with a fair argument that I couldn’t really argue with. Fortunately, the odd sensation in my hair had disappeared for some reason or another when I turned around to look back, so I figured that I maybe shouldn’t have concerned myself with it. I faced forward again and resumed working on my tablet. However…
Shortly after resuming my work, I felt that something was in my hair once again. The only possible cause that I could think of was none other than Morishita, as she was the one sitting directly behind me. This time, I turned around a little more quickly than before. When I did, Morishita made a face for a moment, like “Oh no, he got me,” before quickly clenching her left hand, hiding something in it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see what that something was, though.
“What an awful, perverted lowlife you are, staring at my face from point-blank range like this,” said Morishita.
“I’m not trying to pull anything. All I want to know is what are you doing to the back of my head,” I stated.
Feeling like I had no other choice, I decided to try asking her directly.
“I am not doing anything. I am taking class seriously,” she replied.
Morishita put on a show by prodding her tablet twice with her stylus pen, but it was obvious that her hand movements were unnatural. However, we were in the middle of class right now, and although it was a self-study session, I couldn’t just turn to look behind me as much as I wanted. Still, I didn’t have any doubt that she was doing something to me.
Morishita was trying to act as though nothing was going on, but the looks from other people around us said otherwise. And there was clearly someone looking at me with a compassionate and sympathetic gaze.
“Hey, Shiraishi?” I asked.
“Tee hee, what is it?” my seat neighbor responded with a chuckle, while covering her mouth with both hands, as though she couldn’t quite hold back her laughter.
“What’s Morishita doing?” I asked.
“Well, now, I am not quite sure myself, actually,” she replied.
Though I was perplexed by the obvious lie on her part, it left me with no other choice but to deal with this situation myself. I pretended to give up and faced forward again, immediately using my stylus pen to resume my self-study. Of course, Morishita would certainly figure out that I wasn’t looking super intently at my tablet, though. In all likelihood, she would see that I was trying to get my hands on some definitive evidence.
But that was more than enough, because I figured that Morishita would rather make the decision to stop her misdeeds than allow me to confirm that she was indeed up to something. In other words, it was my way of telling her, Hey, I’ll let you off the hook, so don’t do it anymore. I had thought that I would be able to concentrate at last, but those hopes were shattered in just a few brief seconds, since I felt that strange sensation at the back of my head again.
Did this mean that she had seen through my shallow plan? Even if I tried to turn around at high speed, there was a limit to how fast I could respond, during which my defenseless back would be exposed. It would be difficult for me to ascertain what she was clenching tightly in her left fist. Seriously though, what in the world was she doing? Suddenly, I saw Shiraishi’s fingertip around the edge of my line of sight and noticed that she was pointing at the floor.
I see…so, that was what she was doing, huh? Furthermore, Shiraishi was making some kind of motion with the index finger of her left hand, with a tap, tap, on her desk. My sense of discomfort lined up with her fingertip touching the desk, which meant that I could now make a move before that sense of discomfort occurred again. Shiraishi’s fingertip went up and then back down again. At that moment, I wheeled around.
Morishita twitched and reacted with a start, but I wasn’t going to let her get away this time. Rather than going after her flailing right hand, I grabbed hold of her left one, which was clenched tightly into a fist, and forcibly pried it open. Out came an eraser, something that hadn’t been necessary for class for a long, long time now.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Hm? What is what?” replied Morishita.
“What are these bits on the floor?” I asked.
“I do not know,” said Morishita.
Morishita was feigning ignorance, but it was pointless. She had been rubbing her eraser against her desk and flicking the shavings it produced at my head.
“I think that you ought to just fess up,” said Shiraishi.
“I appreciate that, Shiraishi. Thanks to you letting me know the timing, I was able to catch her in the act,” I replied.
“Dang, so that’s what happened, is it? Well done, Shiraishi Asuka,” said Morishita.
“Sorry,” Shiraishi said. “I felt bad for poor Ayanokouji-kun and couldn’t just let him be bothered like that.”
“Isn’t this what is commonly referred to as bullying?” I asked.
“Bullying? Calling it ‘bullying’ is absurd. Allow me to ask you if you call it ‘bullying’ if a kitten were to bother a lion? Please play that scenario out in your mind,” said Morishita.
“Well…no, I wouldn’t,” I replied.
“Precisely. Bullying is a despicable act committed by the strong against the weak. Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, the man who is to become the class leader, is physically superior. And then there’s me, the fair maiden. From any perspective, it is clear and obvious who the ‘strong’ and ‘weak’ would be in this scenario. In other words, what I was doing just now was, dare I say, something Jeanne d’Arc would have done,” said Morishita.
“Why are you bringing up the Maid of Orléans now, exactly?” I asked.
“Because she is a female knight who vanquishes evil?” replied Morishita.
So then, I was evil and Morishita was just? That was a fact that I found entirely difficult to accept in this situation.
“How cute,” quietly murmured Shiraishi, who had been watching my back-and-forth with Morishita with her eyes squinted into a happy expression.
It was true that, if you were talking about physical appearance alone, both Morishita’s face and figure were certainly blessed in that department. However, her behavior could only be described as cute by those who had not actually suffered harm because of it.
“This is why Sugio gave up his seat so easily, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes. It seems that the students who sat in front of Morishita-san all had that same look in their eyes,” said Shiraishi.
“As long as evil exists in this world, it is my duty to keep on fighting,” Morishita vowed.
I had no clue as to why, but Shiraishi was smiling happily throughout this exchange.
Chapter 8: Ayanokouji’s Defeat
Chapter 8:
Ayanokouji’s Defeat
TWO WEEKS HAD PASSED in the blink of an eye, and the day of the first special exam for the third-year students had arrived. It was now seven thirty in the morning. Karuizawa went to bed last night, rather than forcing herself to pull an all-nighter. Thanks to that, she woke up on time and quietly left the dormitory alone after she finished getting ready.
Though she started her life at this school alone, she was part of a couple at one point. But now, she was back to being alone. Karuizawa hadn’t been able to smile even once since she had broken up with Ayanokouji. There was no room in her heart for laughter. All of her friends, such as Satou, tried their absolute hardest to cheer Karuizawa up somehow or to get her to have some fun, but that only made her heart tighten even more. Day after day, Karuizawa’s heart continued to scream out in distress.
The only thing that kept her going to school day in and day out was her willpower. But on her way to school today, Karuizawa unexpectedly came to a stop. That was because she saw Ayanokouji sitting on a bench ahead of her, fiddling with his phone. Several weeks had passed since their breakup, and though Karuizawa continued to power through the days, her feelings for Ayanokouji remained strong. Every time she saw her former lover, her chest ended up growing tight even though she didn’t want it to.
Her gaze naturally followed Ayanokouji whenever she saw him, and every time their eyes met, there was something she understood all too well: Ayanokouji had absolutely no lingering regrets about their breakup. His merciless reactions toward her made Karuizawa’s heart shatter. Even so, all she could do was keep moving forward. It would’ve been an excellent show of strength if she could’ve greeted him with a simple hello today and walked on by. None of this would be difficult for her if she could play the role of a strong person. Karuizawa told herself that over and over again, and she tried to muster her courage, but…
“Good morning, Karuizawa-san.”
“Huh?!”
Karuizawa’s attention was entirely on Ayanokouji sitting right in front of her, so much that she didn’t notice the student approaching her from behind. She jumped in surprise when she heard a voice coming from close by. Large, sparkling eyes were peering into Karuizawa’s face. Long, beautiful, glossy hair and plump lips. A female student that even fellow girls couldn’t help but be enchanted by.
“O-oh, Ichinose-san, morning…” said Karuizawa.
“You’re earlier than usual today,” commented Ichinose.
“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, well…probably, I guess.”
It was only after being told so that Karuizawa realized that she had indeed left the dormitory unusually early today. However, she was hung up on the fact that Ichinose spoke as though she knew her usual routine.
“Do you…know what time I usually leave?” asked Karuizawa.
“Yeah. Around seven fifty, right?” said Ichinose.
“Uh…y-yeah, I think…” said Karuizawa.
Karuizawa felt an ever-so-slight shiver when Ichinose said that without a moment’s hesitation. Karuizawa wasn’t even aware of the exact time herself after all.
“Ayanokouji-kun has been sitting on that bench pretty frequently these days,” said Ichinose.
“O-oh, really…? Sounds like you’ve been paying quite a bit of attention,” said Karuizawa.
“Oh no, not really. I just go to school around this time, so I see him sitting there often. You can see a whole new world just by leaving the dormitory at a different time.”
As the two of them stood around and chatted, some other students slowly walked past them on their way to school. Many of them greeted Ichinose, who greeted them in return with a friendly smile. Though Karuizawa knew that a fulfilling school life and having a lot of friends wasn’t everything, this scene made it clear that the respective paths they had each taken over the past two years of their lives were quite different.
Whether you looked to the right or the left, or to the front or the back, all Karuizawa saw were friends of Ichinose. If Karuizawa wasn’t careful, then a higher percentage of students from her class may greet Ichinose in a friendlier way than they would her. Karuizawa also assumed that Ichinose was increasing her interactions not only with the second-year students, but also with the first-year students already.
“You’re as incredibly popular as ever I see, Ichinose-san,” said Karuizawa.
“Popular? I was just saying hi to my friends. Just like how I came and talked to you, Karuizawa-san,” said Ichinose.
Though it was a remark that some might think sounded rehearsed, when Ichinose said it, it just sounded right. That all was because of the reputation that she had built up.
“Oh, yeah, that reminds me. Today’s the day of the special exam,” said Ichinose.
“Uh, yeah…I guess it is,” said Karuizawa.
“How’d your studying go?”
“I dunno. I think I did the best I could. But I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, Ichinose-san.”
“Oh no, that’s not true at all. I’m just trying to hold on in the face of the constant pressure that feels like it’s about to crush me.”
Though Ichinose had said as much to Karuizawa, it didn’t look like she was suffering in the slightest. At the very least, that’s how Karuizawa interpreted the demeanor of the woman standing next to her. Since their conversation was naturally wrapping up, Ichinose was just about to walk on.
“Could I…ask you something?” asked Karuizawa.
By the time Karuizawa’s mind had told her that she should just watch Ichinose go, the words had already spilled out of her mouth.
“Hmm? Sure, go ahead, you can ask me anything. Oh, but stuff like who we’re choosing for the Small Group Competition and who we’re assigning penalties to is secret, okay?” said Ichinose.
“I-it’s not about that…” said Karuizawa.
“Oh, okay, in that case, ask me whatever you want!”
Ichinose waited for Karuizawa to speak with a friendly smile, as if saying, “Please, go ahead.”
“Ichinose-san…a-are you…um…going out with…Ayanokouji-kun…?” asked Karuizawa.
By straining herself and squeezing the words out, Karuizawa had managed to ask Ichinose what she was most curious about. However, because she was afraid of what the answer would be, she unconsciously averted her eyes. In her mind, there was one plausible reason why Ayanokouji broached the topic of breaking up with her in the first place. She imagined that he abandoned her so that he could go out with a different member of the opposite sex—Ichinose. As they’ve been going about their days as third-year students, the closeness between Ayanokouji and Ichinose lately was noticeable, even if she didn’t want to admit it. And they looked closer than “just friends.” It wasn’t all Karuizawa’s speculation either; there were even rumors being whispered that made it all the more plausible.
“Me? Oh gosh no. There’s no way someone like me could date Ayanokouji-kun,” said Ichinose.
Ichinose’s reply was a strangely worded denial, a statement that put Ayanokouji on a pedestal. But in Karuizawa’s mind, the two of them were definitely dating, and on top of that, they were a pair that could be considered the perfect couple. But Karuizawa wasn’t too deeply concerned about that part. She looked back at Ichinose, her eyes telling her that her denial wasn’t something that could be easily believed.
“If you’re trying to be tactful on my account, you—”
“It’s the truth, really. I do not have that kind of relationship with Ayanokouji-kun,” said Ichinose.
“But…”
It couldn’t be. Even if they weren’t dating, the relationship between them had definitely changed. Which was exactly why Karuizawa was prepared to keep hounding Ichinose on this, even to the point of being an annoyance. It was a question she didn’t want to ask a second time; hell, it was a question she didn’t even want to ask in the first place. Ichinose, acknowledging the earnest appeal from Karuizawa’s wavering eyes, took a short breath.
“But that being said, I don’t think it’s as normal a relationship as you might think either,” said Ichinose.
“What the hell…? I don’t get what that’s supposed to mean… So, you’re going out with him after all?” said Karuizawa.
“No, I am not. That’s the truth,” said Ichinose.
“Yeah… Yeah, okay…”
Ichinose’s answer didn’t change, as she was truly a trustworthy person. There was no way she was lying. Karuizawa could believe her answer, because if they were dating, Ichinose would have confirmed it when pushed. But even so, she was conflicted and couldn’t honestly be happy about the situation. Even if they weren’t dating right now, they might be tomorrow. Actually, no, they might even get together today.
For Karuizawa, the thought of Ichinose and Ayanokouji dating was nothing but despair. She had her answers for now though, which brought a bit of relief to her heart. For the moment, a glimmer of hope remained. With that in mind, Karuizawa forced herself to accept the current situation.
Meanwhile, Ichinose sensed a slight relaxation of Karuizawa’s heart as she stood next to her. She figured that meant Karuizawa was happy about the fact that she and Ayanokouji were not in a relationship.
Suddenly, something dawned on her. A new emotion had been awoken from her conversation with Karuizawa.
She realized that, though it was small, a dark emotion existed within her. Karuizawa was Ayanokouji’s lover last year, around the time that Ichinose recognized with certainty that she was in love with him herself. And due to that, she had cried bitter tears more than a few times.
“I get it, Karuizawa-san. Ayanokouji-kun really is wonderful,” said Ichinose.
“Uh…” stammered Karuizawa.
“I really don’t understand why you dumped him, though.”
Ichinose said that, despite knowing that Ayanokouji had been the one who dumped her.
“Actually…” began Karuizawa.
Karuizawa couldn’t tell Ichinose that she, in fact, was the one who got dumped. That’s what Karuizawa’s instincts told her, and she didn’t want to give Ichinose any hope either.
“H-hey, did you know, Ichinose-san…? If you…”
If you get too close to Ayanokouji-kun, you’re going to get hurt,Karuizawa wanted to warn her. But even though Karuizawa hesitated to say anything further, Ichinose opened her lips to speak.
“By any chance, are you trying to say that he’s not a normal person or something like that?” she asked, reading Karuizawa like a book.
“Y-yeah…” said Karuizawa.
Since Karuizawa had actually intended to say something remarkably similar, all she could do was nod, even though she was upset. Karuizawa intuitively sensed that Ichinose, the woman standing next to her, knew more about Ayanokouji’s hidden side than she was letting on.
“Thank you for that advice. Or rather, the warning. But I’m okay,” said Ichinose.
“How…can you say so for sure?” asked Karuizawa.
“I dunno. I’m not so sure, myself. But do you regret breaking up with him?”
“N-no…not really…”
“Really? To be honest, it doesn’t quite look that way to me. Don’t you ever have thoughts like ‘If only things were different, I could’ve maintained our relationship,’ or something like that?” asked Ichinose.
Whichever one of them did the dumping, the cause of the breakup was ultimately created during the course of their relationship. It was fair to say that the future might have been different had any of the disturbing elements that sprung up been removed.
“This is just my own speculation, but I can’t help but wonder if maybe your relationship ended because you demanded something in return.”
Due to the way Ichinose phrased that, the emotions that Karuizawa had managed to keep a lid on up until this point began to boil over ever so slightly. Why should I sit here and listen to this from an outsider to our relationship, she wondered.
“Something in return?! Like what? I didn’t really—” she began.
“’I like you, so I want you to like me back.’ ‘I love you, so I want you to love me back.’ That kind of give and take. If you don’t get what you want in return, you end up feeling crushed, sad, and hurt. Maybe that’s not only related to love, but to relationships with friends and family as well,” said Ichinose.
“Excuse me?! Isn’t that a normal way to feel?” said Karuizawa.
“I suppose. But that might not be how I feel,” said Ichinose.
“No way. I mean, come on… That’s a reasonable thing to demand in return if you started dating someone, Ichinose-san. Even you would want that, wouldn’t you?”
If I say I love you, you love me back. Karuizawa thought it was so dear precisely because it was such a futile exchange of words.
“Dating someone? Can I assume that by ‘someone’ you mean Ayanokouji-kun?” asked Ichinose.
“Wh—”
“I’m sure you know, Karuizawa-san. You must, right? You know that I love Ayanokouji-kun.”
Ichinose could declare such a thing without embarrassment or reservations. Then, after a short pause, Ichinose continued before Karuizawa could reply.
“I guess it’s like, well, I’m more inclined to give rather than receive, is what I mean. I want to be there for everyone in my class and I’m willing to be someone they can come talk to. But I don’t really expect anything in return, nor even want to get anything. I think how I feel about Ayanokouji-kun is an extension of that. I feel that him allowing me to love him is more than enough,” explained Ichinose.
“There’s no way you…could bear that, though…”
“I can. I said something similar earlier, but this isn’t just about romantic love. I want to be helpful to anyone close to me. If someone’s in trouble, I want to be a shoulder to lean on. That’s all there is to it.”
Those were undeniably Ichinose’s true feelings. Genuine altruism.
“But that’s so…” stammered Karuizawa.
Right now, this moment was completely and utterly a cruel one for Karuizawa. Even so, Karuizawa was convinced of one thing when she saw Ichinose’s gaze directed at her. She knew it because she was also someone who had fallen in love with a member of the opposite sex. She knew it as someone who had stood beside that same member of the opposite sex first. Which was why she couldn’t help but ask.
“If…” began Karuizawa.
“Hm?”
“If I asked you to…help…me with something, Ichinose-san…would you?”
“Anyone close to her” would, of course, include Karuizawa. Or so it should, at least. There was no way to predict that Karuizawa would ask Ichinose, her rival in romance, for help. That’s why, for Ichinose, Karuizawa’s request had undoubtedly come as a shock. But after a few moments of silence, Ichinose smiled faintly.
“I’m sorry. I take back some of what I said. I don’t think I can help you,” said Ichinose.
Goodness.
The hypocrisy.
Ichinose had discovered a new way of thinking.
“After all, I don’t have the power to help every single person,” Ichinose stated.
Sometimes, you had to make a choice. Up until this point, if there were one hundred people who needed help, Ichinose would try to help all one hundred of them. Even if she only had the power to help fifty, she held onto hope and aimed for the top, even if there was a possibility that the fifty people who could have been saved wouldn’t be.
But now, she decided she would try and save only those fifty people with all of her might from the very beginning, aiming for the top be damned. Ichinose now had a newly awakened value system: prioritizing. And Karuizawa didn’t make the top fifty.
“Oh, and that reminds me, I didn’t mention this before, but the reason Ayanokouji-kun’s sitting on the bench…”
Ichinose smiled as she peered straight up into Karuizawa’s downcast eyes.
“…is because he always meets up with me at this time.”
Karuizawa, who hadn’t been wanting to hear an answer like that, could only lower her gaze further in response.
“And there’s one more thing I want to tell you. Even if there were some important event or deep relationship between me and Ayanokouji-kun—something that we can’t tell anyone about, on that day it happened, at the time it happened—just know it was already sometime after you and Ayanokouji-kun broke up, Karuizawa-san. So there wouldn’t be anything for us to fight over. That means there’s no problem with us continuing to be friends. Got it?” said Ichinose.
After Ichinose finished saying her piece, she walked over and called out to Ayanokouji. After being called, Ayanokouji put his phone away, stood up, and walked alongside Ichinose. Ayanokouji had surely noticed Karuizawa standing stock still behind Ichinose for just a moment, but that was it. He didn’t glance in her direction and the look on his face didn’t change at all. Ichinose’s happy side profile as she gazed at Ayanokouji sealed the deal. Karuizawa felt something well up from within her stomach, and she hid herself in the bushes at the end of the path to school.
No one would ever catch her looking like this.
8.1
JUST BEFORE THE START of the special exam after lunch, the mood in the classroom for 3-B, led by Ryuuen, was excessively tense. Many of the students had spent most of their time leading up to the special exam studying, both for their own sakes and to avoid being reprimanded by Ryuuen. Naturally, they had done this so they could earn as many points as possible. Even so, they each had just one wish: that they wouldn’t be chosen as one of the five candidates for the Small Group Competition.
If they were chosen and lost, there was no telling what kind of cruel punishment Ryuuen would have in store for them. It would have been common courtesy to at least inform those who were selected for the Small Group Competition in advance. However, Ryuuen had kept his mouth completely shut about it and didn’t even reveal a single person he nominated. Everyone was a potential candidate until the start of the exam.
With a forceful approach like that, which couldn’t possibly be any more bullish, not a single person felt like they could drop their guard. Katsuragi had a firm grasp of the Academic Ability levels of everyone in class and had really felt like he had seen improvement during the study period, which hadn’t even been a full two weeks. Of course, students like Kaneda, Katsuragi, and Shiina weren’t concerned about the difficulty in the slightest; their only concern was gaining as many points as possible for their class, regardless of whether or not they would be participating in the Small Group Competition. Even so, Katsuragi’s expression was grim throughout this whole ordeal, because he understood that they were still no match for their opponent, Class C.
“I will now read aloud the names of the five students who will be participating in the Small Group Competition,” announced Sakagami, the homeroom teacher. He was the sole person who had been told the names of the five students selected by Ryuuen, and even he was only told yesterday. “First is Ishizaki Daiichi. Second is Yabu Nanami. Third is Ibuki Mio. Fourth is Kondou Reon. Fifth is Kinoshita Minori. Those are your five representatives in the Small Group Competition.”
After all of the names were announced, the students exchanged looks, making no effort to suppress their emotions. That was because, despite the fact that the students had no way of knowing who was going to be chosen, it was a nonsensical lineup that should have never been selected in the first place. There were several students among them who, even for this class, were on the lower end of the Academic Ability ranking and had little ambition for self-improvement or improving their terrible study habits. Ibuki in particular was someone who had been able to keep up with her studies to some extent only until the beginning of the second year when her comprehension started to falter, and her Academic Ability declined to the point where someone like Ishizaki could now compete with her on equal ground.
Those were the kinds of people that Ryuuen chose. Furthermore, none of the students that ought to have been participating as priority candidates were among those listed. Tokitou, pulling out his chair, directed his irritation at Ryuuen as he reflected on his efforts over the past two weeks.
“What the hell is with this ridiculous lineup you’ve got, Ryuuen? Are you giving up on the Small Group Competition?” he asked.
There was the Whole Class Competition, which, even in the best of circumstances, they had no chance of winning. The only way for Ryuuen’s class to have made up for that was to have taken four miraculous victories in the Small Group Competition. Everyone in the class faintly held onto that miracle in their hearts. However, Ryuuen’s reply to Tokitou would crush that dream in an instant.
“Yeah, I am. ’Cause no matter how I plan out my move, this ain’t a contest we can win. You dissatisfied?” asked Ryuuen.
“Dissatisfied? Of course I am, extremely so,” replied Tokitou. “I mean, sure, I didn’t think this was a special exam that we could win doing things the honest and proper way. And yeah, if you spent all our Private Points to buy penalties or something like that, I would’ve been dissatisfied in that case too. But you still didn’t need to roll over and give up before we even begin. What the hell did we desperately study like crazy for then?”
“What for? Well, for your own sake, obviously,” Ryuuen chortled.
“Don’t give me that!” snapped Tokitou.
It was yet another quarrel between Ryuuen and Tokitou, something that wasn’t unusual anymore. Sakagami simply let it go in one ear and out the other as he began carefully wiping the lenses of his glasses after removing them from the frame.
“Hah! Okay, then, lemme ask you: Do you really think we could win this if we did things fair and square?” asked Ryuuen.
“There’s a possibility, yes. Not every single person in their class is smart. They might even be using folks who can only score like sixty points out of fear of penalties. So, if we had Kaneda or Katsuragi going up against them, we would have to chance to win and—”
“There ain’t no point in betting on somethin’ that’s too unrealistic to even qualify as some stupid kid’s fantasy,” snapped Ryuuen.
“But…even so, there’s no point in abandoning the competition from the get-go either!” countered Tokitou.
“No point? Oh, no, there is. There definitely is. Sakagami, out of the five people I chose, is there anybody who got a penalty?” asked Ryuuen.
“There isn’t,” said Sakagami.
Ryuuen, convinced that his strategy had been correct after hearing that confirmation, wore an audacious grin.
“Yeah, and so what? Obviously, there wouldn’t be any point in inflicting penalties on Ishizaki and the others you chose,” said Tokitou.
“Nah, that ain’t true either. They hadn’t figured out even a single person out of the five that I nominated. Which means that they didn’t read any of my thoughts either,” said Ryuuen.
On the day that Ryuuen accosted Ayanokouji at the café before holding a strategy meeting in the karaoke room, it ended up with Ryuuen calling Katsuragi back, stopping him from executing any of his plans, and retracting his entire strategy along with all the intentions he communicated earlier. If Ryuuen had been his old self, he would’ve leaped forcefully into the playing field and poured all of his energy into defeating Ayanokouji. He expected that he would have then been beaten by Ayanokouji’s typical one-cut-above strategy, turning the tables on him and beating him at his own game.
It ended up being important to stop for a moment and observe the situation closely. In addition to this special exam, which was disadvantageous for Ryuuen to the extreme, he also hadn’t come up with a breakthrough solution to deal with Ayanokouji. In that case, to just step on the gas pedal here without thinking was akin to simply going on a rampage. If he went through with his initial plan, Ayanokouji would be unable to envision a new fighting strategy from Ryuuen. He was going to think that Ryuuen was always going to try and go for the win.
If it came down to it, Ryuuen would change his strategy, even if it meant investing funds that he’d saved up. After all, Ayanokouji would surely put some serious thought into securing a win. However, what awaited Ryuuen at the end of his desperate planning was only a fact that no one had been able to foresee: Ayanokouji wouldn’t be able to read Ryuuen’s strategy of giving up without a fight, leading to Ayanokouji looking like a fool as he racked his brains over who would be picked. And it was all clear now: His thoughts were off the mark. He didn’t hit a single one of Ryuuen’s five candidates. That was the reality of the situation.
“Ryuuen, it would appear that you managed to outsmart your opponent first. I’m sure even he must be surprised,” said Katsuragi.
“Heh heh. Well, guess he ain’t all-powerful after all,” said Ryuuen.
Tokitou was once again irritated by Ryuuen’s attitude, with him haughtily acting as though everything was going according to plan.
“Even if I caused the guy plannin’ on their side to lose face after outsmartin’ him, I’m guessin’ it’ll turn out all right for them in the end, though. Their class’ll most likely be grateful that we got a lineup of total friggin’ morons competing,” said Ryuuen.
“Except for Ayanokouji, that is,” said Katsuragi.
“It seems like Ayanokouji’s been a hot topic thanks to his whole ridiculous transfer thing, but seriously, what’s his deal? Does he really think that he can replace Sakayanagi as the leader?” asked Tokitou, who didn’t quite know the details of the situation.
“That’s what Ryuuen thinks, at least. I do too, for that matter,” said Katsuragi. “But since we have nothing concrete to move that discussion along, let’s leave it be. Ayanokouji’s suitability as leader is definitely being questioned right about now. How well he read Ryuuen’s thoughts on this occasion will be an essential component in determining his importance in the future.”
“So you’re saying that…your goal was to get Ayanokouji to miss the mark in anticipating Ryuuen’s plans?” asked Tokitou.
“Yes,” replied Katsuragi.
“Okay, but even if that’ll pay off in the future, that’s still going too far. At this rate, we might end up losing all seven chances and lose out on Class Points too,” said Tokitou.
“Ain’t gonna happen,” said Ryuuen.
Ryuuen denied it with a smirk on his face, but Tokitou clicked his tongue, unable to wrap his head around it.
“It’s highly likely that we’re gonna lose the Whole Class Competition,” Tokitou pointed out. “And none of the people that you picked for the Small Group Competition have a chance of winning either. No matter how you slice it, we’re gonna lose it all…”
“Nope. I read my opponent’s thoughts. I peered into Ayanokouji’s mind. And if things go how I’m anticipatin’ they will, he’ll probably be stupid enough to take part in the Small Group Competition himself, yeah?” said Ryuuen.
“That is correct. Regarding the five participants from the opposite class, it appears that first is Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, second is Shimazaki Ikkei, third is Fukuyama Shinobu, fourth is Sanada Kousei, and fifth is Sawada Yasumi. And regarding the penalties that you have inflicted, all one hundred have been imposed on Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, as you instructed. In other words, he will get a score of zero points no matter how high a score he achieves. It also means that you have preemptively prevented your opponent from getting a total victory, provided his opponent, Ishizaki-kun, doesn’t score zero points,” said Sakagami.
“Wha…? You used all one hundred penalties on Ayanokouji?!” shouted Tokitou.
“I told you, didn’t I? I read his thoughts,” said Ryuuen.
No matter how low Ishizaki’s Academic Ability was, there was no way that he’d get a zero unless he handed in a blank exam. But obviously, there was no way that even Ishizaki would do something like that. Which meant that, at this point, no matter how much Ryuuen lost, at least one victory was 100 percent certain.
“Are you sayin’ that I can fight the Ayanokouji and win, dude?! F-for real?! I’m so happy!” exclaimed Ishizaki.
If you looked at the potential final outcome alone, it was still highly likely that they would have one victory and six losses, but even so, that one victory was invaluable.
“I was puzzled myself when I was told about this, but this is likely the optimal solution to avoid risk,” said Katsuragi. “Our opponent’s lineup is safe and predictable, full of students with high levels of Academic Ability, no curveballs whatsoever. I don’t know who they chose to inflict penalties upon, but it’s safe to assume that, in all probability, they allocated them to the higher-level people in our class. If we selected them, this was going to be an inevitable losing battle for us.”
If students who were close to an even level of ability clashed with each other, though Ryuuen’s class might have been able to snatch away a victory or two depending on the match-ups and how things unfolded, the chances of them winning remained low overall, considering the two foregone losses from the Whole Class Competition. Even Tokitou, upon seeing the list of students that their opponents had selected, had no other choice but to find relief in that, even if he didn’t like it.
“I’ll let them savor the sweet, intoxicatin’ taste of victory this time. But Ayanokouji’s thought process was completely wrong. Heh, I wouldn’t be surprised even if that bozo was proudly showin’ off his read of the situation before the exam, givin’ his people a show,” said Ryuuen.
However, bolder moves would be required to get into Class C and wrestle away command.
“Excellent. Guess this means you totally humiliated him, huh?” said Ibuki.
“Now those Class C folks won’t be able to approve of Ayanokouji so easily,” said Ryuuen.
Even if Ayanokouji did eventually take over as leader, delaying his ascent was essential. In order to defeat him on a perfect stage, Ryuuen first wanted to show that he could learn to change and fight more flexibly, and the results here would do just that. Things couldn’t be unfolding in a more ideal way for Ryuuen as he made his way toward his ultimate goal.
8.2
AROUND THAT SAME TIME, Horikita’s class was also hearing about those selected for the exam. Class 3-A vs. Class 3-D. Looking at the odds, Ichinose’s class was in a slightly more favorable position due to the difference in the number of students between their two classes, but there was still a good chance that Horikita’s class could pull out the win in the Whole Class Competition. However, depending on how the two classes anticipated each other’s moves and assigned penalties in the Small Group Competition, that one could turn out either way.
It would be an extremely close and fierce battle…or at least, it was supposed to be.
The class was dripping with nervousness, but the mood was going to suddenly change to one of gloom with the next words out of Chabashira’s mouth.
“Unfortunately…three of the five people that you’ve chosen to participate have been targeted with penalties,” she informed them. “Number two, Wang Mei-yu, number three, Yukimura Teruhiko, and number five, Kouenji Rokusuke, will each have twenty-five points deducted from their test results. Conversely, the students from their class participating in the Small Group Competition that you’ve inflicted penalties upon are number two, Kanzaki Ryuuji and number three, Tsube Hitomi. Two people out of five. Ten points will be taken from each of their scores.”
“Three people at twenty-five points…?! What…?!” exclaimed Ike.
It seemed like the expression “there’s no silver lining” applied to situations like these. With a twenty-five-point deduction, it meant that a student with an Academic Ability of A and one with an Academic Ability of D could compete on almost even ground.
“Could it be that…they spent Private Points to assign a large number of penalties?” asked Horikita.
“Sorry, but the school will not disclose information like how many additional penalties a class has purchased. All I can say is that three of your participants are subject to penalties,” said Chabashira.
Hypothetically, if you were to take away twenty-five points from ten people in the class, you would need a total of two hundred and fifty penalties. Subtracting the one hundred penalties that were initially allocated by the school and providing the remaining one hundred and fifty with your own funds would cost seven-point-five million points. Even if you were operating on the assumption of inflicting penalties on just ten people, that was still a somewhat unrealistic sum of points. If it were hard to imagine that class pouring in such a considerable amount, the next scenario that would come to mind would be…
“Hey, Hirata. I don’t wanna imagine this, but doesn’t it seem like our info leaked or something?” asked Sudou.
Sudou had interpreted and accepted the reality before them.
“I…can’t deny that it’s possible, but I only talked with a few people to discuss who would be participating, as well as the five people actually chosen to participate. Those people and Horikita are the only ones,” said Hirata.
When it came to selecting the five people for the Small Group Competition, Horikita decided that she couldn’t make a calm decision on her own, and entrusted Hirata to take the lead. However, Hirata was not the type to make decisions alone, so he functioned as the decision maker and engaged in discussions with a few other students before selecting the final five. Needless to say, who would be participating was absolutely top secret, and there was a gag order imposed on that information. They were very thorough in making sure nothing would leak.
“Then it has to be one of the people you spoke to, right?” said Sudou.
“Well, I suppose…” said Hirata. “But I can’t really imagine that’s the case.”
“Come on man, look at the people that got hit with penalties! We wouldn’t normally choose Kouenji, right? He ain’t somebody who ever said he’d do things seriously, and I’m sure our opponent wouldn’t—” began Sudou.
Just as Sudou was about to finish that sentence, he picked up on one possibility.
“Wait. Hold on a minute here. Kouenji, was it you? You didn’t tell our opponent in advance that you’d be participatin’, did you?” asked Sudou.
Kouenji showed no reaction to the question, but Hirata immediately denied it for him.
“No, he didn’t. Kouenji-kun was the only person I hadn’t told in advance that he was chosen. I only told him that he might be chosen as a participant,” said Hirata.
Excluding Kouenji from the beginning of the discussions was done to make the other participants happy. It was decided that it was important to scrutinize everyone, from Ike to Kouenji, as potential participants and choose carefully. Ultimately, they concluded that selecting Kouenji would catch their opponent by surprise. Although Kouenji didn’t take instructions from anyone, he had taken written examinations relatively seriously in the past. The Small Group Competition was just an extension of the Whole Class Competition, and didn’t necessarily add any extra work for each individual. Therefore, even if they left Kouenji to his own devices to a certain degree, they could make it work and have him participate. It was truly unexpected then that Kouenji would’ve been the target of penalties before even he knew what would happen.
“Okay, so then how? No matter how you think ’bout it, there’s no—”
“I really don’t think it was a leak, though. Don’t you agree? I mean, there are two people that they didn’t target. If word had gotten out, then it wouldn’t have been surprising if they knew everyone that we selected. There was no need for them to have purposefully omitted two targets,” argued Kushida, cutting Sudou off.
“Well, yeah, I guess that’s true…” said Sudou, though he didn’t want to back down while he still had his doubts.
“So, does that mean that Ichinose-san pinpointed three people based on speculation? That’s wild…” murmured Shinohara.
And what’s more, there was the audacity of inflicting twenty-five-point penalties to boot. That unusual amount sent shockwaves among many of the students in class, starting with Shinohara, who had muttered those words. Only one student seemed to remain completely calm.
“I don’t think…that’s entirely it, either,” said Karuizawa.
The words quietly spilled out of Karuizawa’s mouth, as if she were speaking to herself.
“What do you mean that’s not right, Kei-chan?” asked Satou, from her seat far away from Karuizawa.
“I mean that it probably…wasn’t Ichinose-san who saw through us…” said Karuizawa.
She paused for a moment, because she couldn’t help but feel an oppressive air at the thought of uttering his name. She couldn’t get that happy moment he and Ichinose shared this morning out of her mind, which was precisely why Karuizawa had come to the conclusion she did.
“Maybe it was…Ayanokouji-kun?” suggested Karuizawa.
They had been classmates up until a short time ago. Upon hearing that name, Ike raised his voice, sounding somewhat irritated.
“Huh? Wh-why Ayanokouji, though? He went to Class C. He’s got nothin’ to do with this,” said Ike.
“Because we, Class A, are enemies in the eyes of Class C, aren’t we?” replied Karuizawa.
Karuizawa looked at Ike with little emotion behind her eyes. Ike gulped, unable to ignore the strange intensity in her gaze.
“Well…sure, yeah…” said Ike.
Hirata felt some tangled threads begin to unravel when he heard Karuizawa’s words.
“That is possible… He was in the same class as us for two years. He can imagine our situation and determine who we’re likely to choose better than anyone else. He also knows that even Kouenji-kun demonstrates an aptitude for written exams. So it wouldn’t be surprising if he could guess correctly,” said Hirata.
“If that’s true, then that jerk Ayanokouji’s seriously the worst, dude!” exclaimed Ike.
“We can’t make assumptions,” cautioned Hirata. “Thinking that our selection was leaked or that Ayanokouji-kun was involved is all speculation. We have no other choice but to fight with the cards we’ve been dealt.”
They were beaten down to despair even before the exam began. Even so, they needed to overcome this handicap and win.
“I’m sorry, everyone… This is because I couldn’t…do anything…” said Horikita, expressing her regret. Then, she felt intense self-loathing. If she had only been able to pull herself together, then the situation might have played out a little differently.
“We haven’t lost yet. Even though we’re at a disadvantage now, we still have a chance if we keep fighting and don’t give up,” said Hirata calmly, with no trace of panic in his voice.
Losing motivation at this point would do them no good; it would only bring them a lot of harm. Panicking would only cause the number of points they could get to go down.
Shortly afterward, Chabashira announced that the special exam was about to begin.
8.3
THE SPECIAL EXAM, administered first thing in the afternoon, was over, and before long it was time for homeroom in Class 3-D. Since the results were to be announced by the end of the day instead of being carried over to the next day or later, many of the students appeared fidgety and restless. Ichinose looked around the class slowly and made a comprehensive judgment based on factors such as each student’s facial expression. Her hopes were pinned on the results coming later today. While it remained to be seen how the Whole Class Competition had turned out, the assignment of their penalties in the Small Group Competition had gone better than imagined.
Their chance of winning, which had been somewhere around 50 percent, had been increased to over 70 percent from that alone, or so went her prediction. Of course, she couldn’t let down her guard until the results were announced. There was always the possibility that Horikita’s class would score highly across the board, despite the twenty-five-point handicap, and that they could perform better than expected in the Whole Class Competition.
To sum it up, Ichinose had both high hopes and slight anxiety. However, the moment their homeroom teacher Hoshinomiya appeared, the latter feeling was blown away for everyone in the entire class. Even before the results were announced, her expression was incredibly relaxed, and the fact that she was holding in her happiness made it clear to everyone what the outcome of the exam was. Indeed, Hoshinomiya’s greatest strength and weakness were both on full display in this moment.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting, everyone. Now that we have the aggregate results of the special exam, I’d like to announce the results!” she exclaimed.
“Yeah, dude! We did it!” exclaimed Shibata as he pumped his fist happily and jumped into the air.
“Hey, I still haven’t said anything yet though, have I?” replied Hoshinomiya.
“Well, it’s just that it’s obvious! We did it, dudes!” shouted Shibata.
Shibata continued jumping for joy after he told the class his observation. But Hoshinomiya’s cheeks remained relaxed into a smile. Kobashi and Iizuka, who were sitting in front of Kobashi, both looked at Shibata and whispered to each other in secret.
“Wow, Shibata-kun sure has gotten a lot more cheerful lately. Actually, don’t you think he’s too cheerful? It’s kinda like he’s changed his entire persona!” said Kobashi, in hushed tones.
“Well, he did go through some heartbreak recently…so maybe it’s like, though he’s not totally dejected, he needs to act cheerful to keep from crying,” said Iizuka.
“Yeah, that makes sense. That’s probably not just true for Shibata-kun either, huh? Guess it that’s just the way things go,” said Kobashi.
“And Honami-chan’s changed too. I never thought she’d come out and state her feelings so openly… Oh, wait, come to think of it, are she and Ayanokouji-kun dating yet?” asked Iizuka.
“Dunno. But the two of them have been coming to class together often lately, so maybe?” replied Kobashi.
“Hmm… Well, I mean, I think Ayanokouji-kun is cool and all, but even so, I’m surprised he made Honami-chan fall for him. I wonder what kind of connection they have?” pondered Iizuka. He then looked at Ichinose and nodded in admiration.
“Hey, if you stare too much, people will notice. The boys are a little on edge about this whole thing right now. You shouldn’t make a fuss,” said Kobashi.
“But I’m curious! It’d…probably not be okay for me to, like, ask Karuizawa-san about it, right?” said Iizuka.
“Definitely. Doing something like that would be tactless,” said Kobashi.
“All right folks, let’s focus on the results, please,” said Hoshinomiya.
Hoshinomiya gave the students who were beginning to get rowdy a gentle warning and then cleared her throat. Then, she started navigating her tablet and announced the results.
Class A vs. Class D
Whole Class Competition
Class A: 2633 pts ★Class D:2712 pts
Small Group Competition
1st Position: Sudou Ken – 66 pts
★ Himeno Yuki – 69 pts
2nd Position: Wang Mei-yu – 82 pts (25-pt penalty)
★ Kanzaki Ryuuji – 75 pts (10-pt penalty)
3rd Position: Yukimura Teruhiko – 84 pts (25-pt penalty)
★ Tsube Hitomi – 77 pts (10-pt penalty)
4th Position:★ Mori Nene – 69 pts
Kobashi Yume – 68 pts
5th Position: Kouenji Rokusuke – 72 pts (25-pt penalty)
★ Beppu Ryouta – 71 pts
Class B vs. Class C
Whole Class Competition
Class B: 2327 pts ★Class C:2880 pts
Small Group Competition
1st Position: ★ Ishizaki Daiichi – 66 pts
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka – 100 pts (100-pt penalty)
2nd Position: Yabu Nanami – 47 pts
★ Shimazaki Ikkei – 81 pts
3rd Position: Ibuki Mio – 43 pts
★ Fukuyama Shinobu – 79 pts
4th Position: Kondou Reon – 47 pts
★ Sanada Kousei – 83 pts
5th Position: Kinoshita Minori – 50 pts
★ Sawada Yasumi – 80 pts
Horikita and Ichinose, the leaders of their respective classes, hadn’t participated due to fear of being hit with penalties. Class A’s strategy had been to mix together some middle-of-the-road students together with the top-scoring students to try and catch Class D off guard with some unexpected matchups, like Sudou and Kouenji. Class D, on the other hand, had mainly chosen students above the middle range. Looking at the results alone, both of the top-level classes ended up losing, but it wasn’t like Class D had an overwhelming win. More than a few people felt like they had some leeway.
“Phew, that was scary! I’m glad we bought extra penalties in advance,” said Amikura, happily.
Ichinose nodded in response to Amikura. In addition to the three people that they had successfully hit with penalties in the Small Group Competition, Ichinose and her fellow classmates had also inflicted twenty-five-point penalties on Hirata Yousuke and Kushida Kikyou. They had spent a total of one million, two hundred and fifty thousand Private Points to purchase those additional penalties. Although that wasn’t a small expense, when divided among forty people, the cost per person was about thirty-one thousand, two hundred and fifty Private Points, which wasn’t enough to put anyone in poverty. Also, since winning the exam would increase their monthly income by ten thousand Private Points, they would recover the cost with some change in four months.
“Congratulations, everyone. That was a splendid victory against Class A, whom you absolutely needed to defeat!” said Hoshinomiya.
Even though the class knew the results before they were even revealed, they all burst into cheers as soon as it was officially confirmed.
“We did it, Honami-chan! We won! We actually won!” exclaimed Amikura.
The girls nearby also burst with joy when they heard the teacher’s proclamation.
“Phew. That certainly brings me some peace of mind for the time being. I feel like a weight’s been lifted from my shoulders,” said Ichinose.
Ichinose shared her joy with Shiranami seated next to her, and they high-fived each other. Seeing her students looking so cheerful, Hoshinomiya nodded happily.
“As your homeroom teacher, I’m very satisfied with your results. Of course, there’s still a gap between you and the other classes, so keep those spirits up and continue giving it your best shot from here on out, all right?” said Hoshinomiya.
“Hold on… I know that Ayanokouji is the only one who lost in his class, but did he seriously get a perfect score in that exam?!”
“There were some super tough questions in there, right? There were some where I didn’t even understand what the question was asking…”
At the same time those comments echoed throughout the room, Kobashi and Iizuka exchanged looks. That was because the same thought had crossed both of their minds at that moment: “Wait, is that why?!”
“A quiet, good-looking guy who has been hiding his abilities until now… Yeah, I think we’ve figured it out, Kobashi-san…” said Iizuka.
“Yeah, we totally have, Iizuka-san… I’m sure of it. Honami-chan knew all about his abilities…” Kobashi replied.
Kobashi and Iizuka took hold of each other’s hands and nodded to each other several times, their eyes sparkling as they convinced themselves of their arbitrary interpretation of the situation. Ichinose, not paying any attention to their conversation, took out her cell phone and sent a message to Ayanokouji.
“Wow, a perfect score. That’s incredible! It’s too bad that you got hit with penalties, but it’s good that Class C won. Our class was able to win too, thanks to you, Ayanokouji-kun. Just as you expected, Kouenji-kun participated while Horikita-san didn’t. Thank you so much.”
When she sent that message, it was immediately read and given a reply.
“It was a victory from your course in choosing to trust in my advice, Ichinose.”
Ichinose couldn’t help but smile warmly at such a humble reply. However, since it was still the middle of class, she decided to immediately put her phone on sleep mode without continuing the conversation further.
8.4
MASHIMA-SENSEI LEFT the classroom shortly after announcing Class C’s victory. Normally, this would’ve been a time when the students would have started to get up from their seats and leave in scattered groups, but no one was getting up to exit the classroom. Shimazaki was the first one to stand up. No, actually, it probably would have been more accurate to say that the other students were waiting for Shimazaki to make a move.
He got up from his chair and silently walked over to my seat, without any hesitation. Several students moved closer to me so that they could get front-row seats to the action. The look on Shimazaki’s face as he approached me was incredibly stern, though I could have told you as much without actually looking at him.
“Ayanokouji. You know what I want to say, don’t you?” said Shimazaki, pointing to the monitor that displayed the results of the special exam.
“None of the students you assigned penalties to were in their lineup. You completely missed them all. Talk about a ridiculous debut battle,” said Shimazaki.
“Hey, chill out. We won the exam, so it’s all the same in the end,” said Hashimoto, rushing over and putting himself between us, but Shimazaki forcefully pushed him aside.
“We said as much before the exam, didn’t we? We said that we weren’t going to judge based on whether the class won or lost this time,” said Shimazaki.
“Yes, we were to focus on the correctness of the penalty assignments,” I replied.
“We were expecting at least two. Secretly, I was hoping you got three, and if you did, then—”
“Look, it’s like they say, history is written by the victors. Let’s just call it good this time. Okay?” interjected Hashimoto. Though he had been flustered and panicky after seeing the results, he wanted to smooth things over somehow.
“Sorry, but that’s not going to cut it. I intend to make things clear right here, right now,” said Shimazaki.
“Then let’s talk it over among the three of us. It isn’t cool to force everyone to listen to your grumbling,” said Hashimoto.
Just as Shimazaki clenched his fists and was about to reject this proposal from Hashimoto, the classroom door was violently flung open. Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the source of the unexpected sound, and they fell silent.
“Yo. I’m comin’ in.”
The first to enter the classroom, selfishly and without permission, was Ryuuen, followed by Ishizaki and Ibuki, and, finally, Albert. Not entirely unexpected that he would bring his usual entourage along with him.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing all of a sud—”
Though Shimizu, who was seated in the front row near the entrance of the classroom, withered a bit in the face of the tough-looking people who suddenly barged into the room, he nevertheless tried to stand up to them bravely. Despite that, a huge body loomed in front of him, preventing him from reaching Ryuuen. Shimizu yielded to the mental pressure that seemed to be telling him to back down, and he immediately took his seat. While such a scene was playing out near the entrance, Sawada, a girl who happened to be standing in my vicinity and listening to my conversation with Shimazaki, was now unintentionally blocking Ryuuen’s path as he walked toward me. When she froze up, unable to move from her spot because she missed the opportunity to do so in time, Ryuuen grabbed her by the shoulders and forcibly shoved her out of the way to clear his path.
“Kyah!”
Letting out a small shriek, she stumbled greatly and fell onto a desk, but she quickly caught herself with her hands. Although she hadn’t taken a great fall, this merciless behavior caused Class C to freeze. It wasn’t like there was a brawl happening in broad daylight in the classroom at school or anything, but the classroom now had that vibe.
“Hey, we’re in the middle of something right now, okay? Ugh, I am seriously not enough muscle for this,” sighed Hashimoto.
Hashimoto couldn’t very well move away from Shimazaki, who had just moments before been trying to approach me with a clenched fist. He lamented the fact that he was but a single person. Hashimoto seemed to look to the dependable Kitou for help, but even though he was near Sawada, who almost fell over, he didn’t say a word or move an inch. He simply sat in his seat, watching the situation play out.
“Man, why do I have so few people on my side…?” cried Hashimoto.
I have no other choice but to just go for it. With that kind of determination, Hashimoto alone stood between Shimazaki and Ryuuen.
“I came all the way down here for an interview with the winner. Outta the way,” snapped Ryuuen.
Ryuuen, raising the corner of his mouth ever so slightly into a smirk, continued approaching me, without paying the slightest bit of attention to Hashimoto.
“I shall take responsibility. Shoot him dead immediately.”
I thought I heard something ridiculous like that whispered by a presence in the seat behind me, but since I couldn’t imagine that person would ever take responsibility for something like that, I decided to ignore it.
“Seriously, cut us a break here, Ryuuen. We’re legitimately in the middle of something,” said Hashimoto.
“So what?” asked Ryuuen.
“Come on dude, don’t ‘so what’ me… Well, I don’t expect you to get it, but… Agh, damn it,” huffed Hashimoto.
Ryuuen got right up in Hashimoto’s face. As Hashimoto was blocking his path in the same way Sawada was earlier, Ryuuen grabbed him by his shoulders in an identical manner. For a moment, Hashimoto hesitated about whether to fight back or not, but Ryuuen forcefully shoved Hashimoto just like he did with Sawada, pushing him toward me. Hashimoto probably wasn’t afraid but had simply decided that it’d be wiser not to throw the first punch.
“So, what now? Is it official that you’re gonna be leading Class C from now on, Ayanokouji?” asked Ryuuen.
“Shimazaki had said that he and the others would decide whether or not they’d approve my leadership depending on the accuracy of my nominations in the Small Group Competition, regardless of who won or lost, apparently. Unfortunately, I was unable to hit any of the students you had selected,” I replied.
The results of my nominations, with zero out of five correct, were displayed on the monitor even now, as a fact.
“Well, well, now ain’t that troublesome. No wonder things are so gloomy in here, even though y’all just won. But I sure hope you’re not gonna make the excuse that you never imagined that I would’ve filled my lineup with morons,” said Ryuuen.
“Who’re you callin’ a moron?!” shouted Ibuki.
“I’m pretty sure he means me and you,” said Ishizaki, pointing at himself and Ibuki alternatively, as if it were all too obvious what Ryuuen was talking about.
“I know! But he didn’t have to come out and say it right in front of everybody!” snapped Ibuki.
“Oh, what, you do know? But we’re not right in front of everybody, we’re right behind them,” said Ishizaki.
“That’s not what I meant!’ shouted Ibuki, giving Ishizaki a serious kick in the butt, but Ryuuen ignored the farce going on behind him and continued speaking.”
“Oh, so you’re sayin’ that you weren’t recognized as the leader this time then. Too bad,” said Ryuuen.
Hashimoto, who had been shoved aside by Ryuuen, who was now running his mouth about whatever he wanted, stood up to him once again, wedging himself between Ryuuen and me.
“Don’t just assume, my guy. Whatever the process, we won the special exam. Which is why Shimazaki and the rest of us were in the middle of talking, to decide what our future plans will be. Right?” said Hashimoto.
Hashimoto looked at Shimazaki with a pleading gaze that seemed to say, Please, just go along with it for right now. However…Shimazaki did not want to play along.
“I told you already. This special exam was one that we were expecting to win. Written tests are an area in which our class excels. Winning or losing wasn’t a factor in whether we’d recognize Ayanokouji. We said we were going to focus on whether he could figure out which students our opponent was going to nominate or not. The results were so stacked in his favor that he can’t even come up with any excuses,” said Shimazaki.
In fact, our total score in the Whole Class Competition was a cut above the other classes, even with the handicap.
“Still, Shimazaki. Please, dude…” sighed Hashimoto.
Just as Hashimoto was about to cut Shimazaki off and tell him that something needed to be done, Ryuuen butted in.
“Heh heh heh. I see. It certainly does seem like you are in the middle of somethin’. Well, guess this means the party to celebrate your new leader Ayanokouji will have to wait for a while,” said Ryuuen.
Ryuuen, having gotten a firm grasp of the situation, smiled in satisfaction and turned to leave. Hashimoto clicked his tongue softly and probably would have liked the troublemakers to simply leave for the time being. Normally, no one would want to try and stop Ryuuen, especially since he was about to go anyway after seeing the situation for himself.
No one except for one person, that is. Me.
“Ryuuen. Don’t you think your intuition is a little too dull?” I asked.
“Huh? My intuition?” Ryuuen said as he froze, only turning his head to look back at me, not grasping what I meant.
“If you don’t understand, you can try asking Shimazaki to continue saying his piece,” I replied.
Ryuuen dropped his smile for the moment and directed a sharp glare toward Shimazaki, who was standing nearby.
“Hey, Ayanokouji, couldn’t we do this after Ryuuen leaves?” said Hashimoto.
Hashimoto, who couldn’t see any possibility of this turning out well, quietly made his suggestion, but I had to reject it. Shimazaki flinched for a moment, as though a snake were staring directly at him from up close, but he then took a breath and looked up.
“All right. In that case, I’ll go ahead and say what I have to, Ayanokouji. I didn’t come over here right now and hound you because I wanted to merely complain. To be honest, there are a lot of things I don’t like about this scenario and about you, but…even so, I came over to say that I approve of you for the time being. I approve of you taking command of this class,” said Shimazaki.
Shimazaki’s words were not words of rejection, but approval. Naturally, neither Ryuuen nor Hashimoto likely understood why Shimazaki made such a statement.
“Say what now?” Ryuuen spat. “Hold on, that don’t make no sense. He didn’t see through any of my nominations. I thought you were supposed to focus on those results, yeah? On top of that, Ayanokouji stupidly participated in the Small Group Competition himself and got penalized to hell and back by me. Meanin’ he got zero points. And thanks to that, your precious total victory disappeared too.”
It was the worst-case scenario: Not only did I fail to see any of their nominations, but on the contrary, they had seen through ours perfectly. It was precisely because Hashimoto, now standing next to me, saw things in that way that he had wanted to calm Shimazaki down earlier.
“It’s true that if Ayanokouji himself hadn’t participated in the Small Group Competition, there was a high chance that we could’ve had a total victory. But…we wouldn’t have seen that result…” said Shimazaki.
Though he had a bitter smile on his face, Shimazaki looked back at the monitor, which was still displaying the results. Following his lead, Ryuuen also looked over at the results, but he didn’t feel like anything was off. He saw that Class C had six victories and one loss. It was a victory that Ryuuen himself had deliberately given up. He hadn’t let me find out the identities of any of the participants that he had selected for the Small Group Competition, and he had assigned all of his penalties to me when he confirmed that I was going to participate. He had prevented the complete victory. The results were exactly what he had aimed for.
However, in truth, the essence of what he should have seen was completely different.
“What are you talking about?” asked Ryuuen.
In response to Ryuuen’s demand for an answer, I began giving a partial explanation on Shimazaki’s behalf.
“The Small Group Competition was the key to victory. It was certainly important to find out who the opposing class would choose to participate. It was only natural then that Shimazaki and my fellow classmates would make that the crux of their evaluation of me. But if your opponent isn’t taking the exam seriously, then reading your opponent or not reading them doesn’t come into play. That’s because, in truth, even if I had figured out that you were going to be sending out students like Ibuki and Ishizaki, it wouldn’t be worth inflicting penalties upon them in the first place,” I began.
“Hah! Well, sure, I suppose. But that was what your class was focusin’ on this time. It only makes sense that you’d attempt to figure out which students I was choosin’. So, if yer argument is, ‘oh, it doesn’t matter if I swing and miss because even if I do this is an exam that we’re gonna win,’ then that means this class is independent and doesn’t need you sittin’ in the leader’s seat in the first place,” argued Ryuuen.
“What I really needed to do in this situation was not something so absurd as to abandon critical thinking, but rather, to read the nature of my opponent. I needed to deduce your aim in and of itself. What was important to figure out was whether our enemy was going to fight us head-on, how he was going to fight us, and how we would adjust to that,” I replied.
Ryuuen was not going to do something like let a precious opportunity to fight me go to waste right before his eyes. However, he had little hope of winning in a contest of Academic Ability. So would he go for the win even if he had to pump money into it, or would he give up? That was the sole focal point. And I noted that Ryuuen would choose to pull out of the competition while still working out a way to damage his opponent. At first glance, it might have looked like a wise decision on his part, to deliberately give up on something in an area which his class wasn’t good at.
The real competition wasn’t in April of our first term, but further on, in the second and third terms. That was why he wanted to delay me becoming the leader of Class C as long as possible. Ryuuen had decided to delay the conclusion, so that we could settle things at a later point. But that was nothing more than a passive fighting style coming entirely from a latent fear.
“Shimazaki. How do you feel about me now after seeing these results?” I asked.
“To be honest…you were way, way more amazing than I imagined. I totally get why Hashimoto relies on you,” said Shimazaki.
“Huh?” blinked Ryuuen.
Ryuuen furrowed his brow at Shimazaki’s comments, which were far from being words of condemnation over being off the mark, but rather, words of praise.
“Think about it, Ryuuen. Even students with an A in Academic Ability, like Ayanokouji, were only able to get around eighty points on the test, and they were likely trying their absolute best. I’m one of those people. And yet, Ayanokouji was the only person who scored way above everyone else, with a perfect score on top of that. There were some questions on the tests that were so difficult I couldn’t even begin to understand them… Thus, I have no choice but to recognize Ayanokouji, even if I don’t want to,” said Shimazaki.
It was precisely because Shimazaki was a student who prided himself on his ability to learn that he intuitively sensed that.
“A perfect score ain’t it, chief. Who cares if he does better on a written test than other people?” argued Ryuuen.
“No, a perfect score is it. Ultimately, what I wanted to know about him wasn’t whether or not he could predict who you would be choosing for the Small Group Competition. The thing I wanted to know about him the most was his raw abilities. I just wanted to know if he was the man who could save this class, as we were in trouble after Sakayanagi dropped out. And just now, when he explained that he had made the best choice for the class to win, it reconfirmed what I believe. He did it without falling for any of the meaningless demands that I had been pushing onto him,” said Shimazaki.
It was only with that statement by Shimazaki that the dullness in Ryuuen’s intuition started to ease up slightly.
“It’s not just that he got a hundred points on the exam either. The fact that he was so thoroughly marked by a crazy guy like you, indicating that he was living in your mind rent-free, is also incredible. You wouldn’t normally have assigned all one hundred penalties to a single person, would you? There’s also the fact that even if you had hit him with twenty or even thirty points in penalties, he would have been the victor,” added Shimazaki.
Ryuuen had foreseen that I was going to join the Small Group Competition to flaunt my abilities. He also preserved his Private Points, deciding to make a move that mitigated risk. Ryuuen’s perception was that losing as a class wasn’t worth the hefty price tag, but if he could prevent us from getting a complete victory by having me lose the Small Group Competition, it would have a negative impact on my standing within Class C.
I absolutely will not allow Ayanokouji to win. I will prevent their complete victory with Ayanokouji’s absolute defeat. A large number of penalties, the maximum value of one hundred in fact, were inflicted upon me, which was the result of thoughts such as those that plagued Ryuuen. That is to say, that level of “hyper-wariness” he had was incredibly obvious to anyone watching. Ryuuen’s read of the situation was correct, but it was meaningless if his reading was read in turn. I went into the Small Group Competition on the assumption that I was going to be targeted, and it would be a chance to show the huge number of penalties that had been inflicted upon me.
“You have come to understand me quite well, as a student, through our shared past. But the students of Class C still didn’t see most of that. They didn’t know how high I could score on this special exam or how skittish I made you either. I chose the top five most academically gifted students in Class C. Extremely orthodox—or, put another way, there wasn’t a single curveball thrown your way. However, I knew that you would choose students in an irregular manner, and I also knew that you would assign penalties to me, all so you could have some insurance in the unlikely scenario you were wrong. Firmly marking the smart students in your class—Katsuragi, Hiyori, and Kaneda—was the best way to increase Class C’s chances of winning. Which means that it’s not necessary to do something like deliberately engage in a battle of scare tactics, where we would try and confuse each other,” I declared.
If I had guessed some of the students that Ryuuen had chosen correctly, would that really have convinced anyone of my prowess? Some people would have thought that it was just a coincidence, or that I was just lucky. That much was obvious. Because, from the very beginning, it was impossible to fully read and anticipate a strategy that was akin to relying on a roll of the dice. There wasn’t any need to take the risk that came with setting my sights on such slim chances. These peremptory effects disseminated from one classmate to the other, starting with Shimazaki.
“All that you see, Ryuuen, is—well, no, what any student would see—is victory or defeat in special exams,” I said. “That’s only natural, of course. But I put a lot of emphasis on getting one other outcome, a different kind of result: to make sure that it was known that the student Ayanokouji Kiyotaka can get exceptional results. And that he was thoroughly and completely marked by the leader known as Ryuuen. It wasn’t necessary for me to have all those things, but I was looking for something that would make that clear to everyone and anyone. Based on what’s displayed on the monitor, sure, it’s a fact that I lost one individual match. But no one could claim that I lost based on a lack of ability. Which means this defeat appears unusually striking.”
“Hah hah, no doubt about that, my guy. You’ve proven that you are undeniably one ridiculously capable dude,” said Hashimoto.
Hashimoto, who had been observing this special exam play out closest to me, had a somewhat stiff smile on his face. If I hadn’t participated in the Small Group Competition, people would not have known exactly how many penalties had been inflicted upon me. That was precisely why it was meaningful for me to participate. So that my new classmates could see Ryuuen and his people rushed over here, eager to confirm how I was feeling. Even all of that was part of the flow of events that I had anticipated. Which is to say that Ryuuen followed the script, from start to finish.
“So, Ryuuen, did things turn out the way you wanted?” I asked.
All of the remaining students in Class C were giving Ryuuen harsh stares, as if he was a nuisance. You came here planning to drive me away, but it’s all come back to bite you, I thought.
“So that’s how it is, huh… Hah, that’s just fine with me,” said Ryuuen.
And with those words said, Ryuuen made his way out of Class C. When the last person in his group, Albert, closed the door behind him, there were cheers of joy from my classmates. They didn’t hide their joy over the exhilaration of their common enemy being sent running so ruthlessly.
“Was this the conclusion that you were aiming for? When in the world did you envision all of this?” asked Morishita.
“From the beginning,” I replied. “Information isn’t something that you can just collect. After you’ve gathered it, you have to use it skillfully. I talked about the special exam with you two at the café, right? Do you remember how Ryuuen had instructed those two first-year students to eavesdrop on our conversation?”
“Yeah. I thought it incredibly in-character for you to spot them spying on us right away,” said Hashimoto.
“Hashimoto and Morishita, you said in our conversation that I truly needed to guess two or three of Ryuuen’s people correctly in the Small Group Competition. And that statement was recorded by the first-year students, who we could call assassins sent by Ryuuen. That recording would have then likely been put in Ryuuen’s hands. Not only that, but I’m sure he must have been monitoring Shimazaki and the others too,” I replied.
There was no way that he wouldn’t try to make use of such valuable information.
“So that’s why he tried to use the lack of correct guesses against you. But—” began Hashimoto.
“Morishita, remember how you were skeptical about whether those first-years were really acting under Ryuuen’s instructions, even though I said that I already had all of the first-year students’ data in my head?” I asked.
“Yes. I felt like there was scant evidence,” said Morishita.
“Well, there’s one secret to that, which I hadn’t revealed. Between the day of the opening ceremony and the day the special exam was announced, I had a certain someone busily hop around and check out the first-years,” I explained.
“Hop around? Who?” asked Hashimoto.
“Ryuuen had his antenna propped up to detect the movements of people like you, Hashimoto, who would obviously gather information for Class C. If I were careless, my aims would have likely been detected rather easily. However, in another class, there’s a student who can communicate smoothly with our juniors, gain their trust in a short span of time, and draw information from them naturally,” I replied.
“You mean Ichinose Honami,” Morishita guessed.
“That’s right. And those same first-year students’ classmates had seen and heard them being approached by students from Ryuuen’s class. They even know how they received money to work for them. Those first-year students don’t have the kind of relationships where they would try and cover for each other yet. Regardless, this was valuable information that normally would not have been easy to obtain,” I answered.
“Which was why you were immediately convinced that those two were sent there to conduct reconnaissance,” concluded Morishita.
As I weaved in more and more elements, the clearer the larger picture became.
“There are all sorts of advantages to an alliance. The reason Ichinose was able to defeat Class A this time was because she honestly listened to my advice, which led her to victory. It was precisely because we joined hands and worked together that we were able to openly exchange information and act on it. As a result, we were able to defeat the top two classes and close the gap between us and them by one hundred points each,” I remarked.
Hashimoto and Morishita looked at me in wonder and admiration. Meanwhile, Shimazaki, who had been rejoicing together with his fellow classmates in front of the pair, offered me his hand.
“Ayanokouji…welcome to Class C,” said Shimazaki.
“Thanks. I look forward to the days to come. Let’s do our best,” I replied.
After I finished shaking hands with Shimazaki, my other classmates came over in turn, each and every one of them wanting to shake my hand.
8.5
“U-UM, HEY, Ryuu—ummph!”
After leaving the classroom, Ishizaki tried to call out to Ryuuen, but Ibuki held her hand over his mouth and stopped him from chasing after their class’s leader. Ryuuen continued to walk on alone, unaware that Ishizaki and the others had stopped. Ryuuen, or rather, everyone in his class, knew that this was a difficult battle to begin with. They knew that it was a battle that, if they fought head-on with their studies, which was their weakest area, they had no chance of winning. Which was exactly why they had focused on a different thing and aimed to secure an advantage later on, rather than achieving victory. Their goal this time was to humiliate Ayanokouji and delay him from taking on the leadership position.
But all of the predictions on Ryuuen’s part had been cruelly scattered to the wind. Ayanokouji had read him like a book, and Ryuuen’s efforts went entirely nowhere. You could even describe what he did as having a wrestling match all by himself, like some street performance. Ryuuen had assumed that his enemy would’ve arbitrarily gone all out and used high-level thinking and strategy in the exam. But when Ryuuen looked at the outcome, he saw nothing. Ayanokouji succeeded in making his abilities known to his class—no, to the entire grade—all without doing anything special.
Ayanokouji achieved a perfect score, something no one else could get. He also took the full brunt of Ryuuen’s penalties, proving that Ryuuen was on maximum alert about him. Furthermore, everyone saw how Ryuuen stormed into the classroom with an unbelievable level of intensity. No, all that was precisely what made it something special.
“How much did he… Ugh, that crazy asshole!” shouted Ryuuen.
In the end, this meant that Ayanokouji had predicted Ryuuen’s behavioral patterns and his psychological state. Ayanokouji had even expected that Ryuuen would have been flexible in his thinking this time around. Ryuuen felt his arm unconsciously moving, and before he knew it, he had punched the corridor wall. His body signaled that he had to inflict pain on himself as punishment and to keep his emotions suppressed. The gap in Class Points had narrowed, but he still had a lead. Also, if this special exam weren’t a competition based on Academic Ability, he would have had a chance to win. Actually, he wondered if he really would have stood a chance.
Even if he lost, he could just win the next competition. And if he lost again, he could just win the one after that. Victory in the end, which had been his creed up until this point. He felt that resolve beginning to waver once again.
“Tch…”
Pride, overestimation, arrogance. Ryuuen had thought he had long since discarded such things. In reality, however, his extreme tunnel vision had made him suffer defeat.
“Can I really not win on my own…?” he muttered.
Ryuuen thought back to his conversation with Sakayanagi, who had left this school just a few weeks prior.
Unknowingly, Ryuuen had begun his descent down a long, dark tunnel.
Chapter 9: Enemies and Allies
Chapter 9:
Enemies and Allies
WHERE DID THE RESPONSIBILITY for Class A’s defeat lie? That question had an obvious answer from the beginning: It lay with me.
Though I was entrusted with the position of class leader, I was so shaken by Ayanokouji-kun’s transfer that I couldn’t pull myself together and come up with even a single strategy. If I had had one or two plans that could have been executed effectively, we might have had a good chance of winning…
Or maybe this was simply just an unfortunate result, a dismal failure on account of the circumstances? Unable to come up with an explanation, I remained in the classroom, alone. After we lost, not a single person came up to openly condemn me. On the contrary, everyone consoled me, telling me that there was always next time. However, most of those kind words directed at me from Sudou-kun and my other classmates didn’t stick with me. I didn’t remember the details of what they said. I just couldn’t recall.
I had found myself just sitting in my chair, my head empty, and before I realized it, I was the last one in the room. I suddenly gazed out of the window from the classroom, which was now being steeped in the dark of dusk. It finally struck me that the sun was about to set.
“I need to head back…” I muttered to myself.
Without thinking, I got up and put my hand on the door before realizing that I had forgotten my bag. I returned to my desk once more to get it before I walked down the empty hallway toward the exit. What am I doing here, I wondered. What am I trying to achieve by being here?
I felt very alone. I was becoming hopeless, feeling like there was nothing I could do. Would I be able to get it together tomorrow? I didn’t know. I didn’t have the answers to anything. I was stuck in a loop. I put on my shoes, stepped outside, and started walking back to the dormitory.
All I want is to go back to my room… I thought. I just want to go back to my dorm room and lie in bed right n—
An unexpected jolt suddenly interrupted my thoughts and shook my field of vision. I felt an intense pain shoot through my back as I was sent flying forward.
Although my hands shot out in front of me reflexively, I was unable to twist into a good position to catch myself, and I slid clear across the ground.
I had fallen in an area paved with gravel, which meant that I couldn’t say the ground cushioned my fall at all. My bag tumbled down beside me, kicking up a cloud of dust along with it.
“Ow…!”
More pain shot through my body. The palms of my hands and my knees, which had taken the brunt of the fall, were particularly hurting.
“Wh-who did that?!” I shouted.
After some delay, I finally realized that I had been kicked. The thought that I needed to identify the culprit finally made its way to my lagged brain.
“You’re such a spineless wimp, Horikita. I can’t believe you couldn’t even avoid that kick just now.”
It was a voice that didn’t contain a single ounce of remorse for kicking someone, and it belonged to none other than Ibuki-san, who folded her arms and laughed scornfully as she leered over me.
“Seriously, doing something like that…are you insane?!” I snapped.
Before I could direct my anger at her, admonishing her like “Don’t you know what could happen if you kick a defenseless person down?!” Ibuki-san looked down at me with a contemptuous gaze.
“Your whininess has been getting on my nerves for a long time now. Just looking at you is making me mad,” snapped Ibuki-san.
“Of all the self-centered… You can just not look at me, you know!” I argued.
Why should I have to get kicked by a total barbarian who had no clue whatsoever about how painful my days have been lately, and right after a severe defeat at that? This was literally kicking someone when they were down. I let out a sigh as I looked at the slight trace of blood smeared on my palms.
“There, see? I just can’t help it! When someone with that kind of weak attitude jumps into my field of view, I have to attack! You should be grateful that I only kicked you to the ground,” said Ibuki-san.
“I have no idea what that’s supposed to even mean,” I replied.
I didn’t want to deal with Ibuki-san at a time like this. I got up while dusting myself off and then picked up my bag that had fallen beside me. Luckily, it didn’t seem like my sore knees had gotten any scrapes.
“Hmph. You can’t even manage one single hit back? Well, even if you tried, I’d just counter you,” said Ibuki.
Even at a time like this, Ayanokouji-kun came to mind.
“Ugh. You’re thinking about Ayanokouji again, aren’t you?” snapped Ibuki-san.
“So what if I am? It’s none of your business,” I replied.
“Seriously, everyone’s always like ‘Ayanokouji this, Ayanokouji that.’ Bleh! Can’t you just be happy about the fact that the angel of death is gone from your class? It’s a good thing after all!” said Ibuki-san.
“I knew that you were a bit…no, actually very slow, but wow, you’re more of a moron than I thought. How could I possibly be happy about his absence?!” I shouted.
“If I were in your shoes, I’d be jumping for joy!” Ibuki said. “Looking at his face pisses me off to no end… Ugh, just thinking about him gets me mad as hell. And here I thought that that jerkface Ryuuen was finally going to catch Ayanokouji off guard and give him the shock of a lifetime. But noooo, Ryuuen’s the one who got humiliated in the end!”
Ibuki-san must have really been irritated, because she kicked the ground.
“What in the world are you talking about?” I asked.
After I muttered those words, I thought back to the results of today’s exam. If I remembered correctly, Ayanokouji-kun had won in proper fashion against Ryuuen-kun’s class. And what’s more, he gave a spectacular performance that left a unique impact. But honestly, the results of the exam felt like some kind of irrelevant and distant event up until moments ago.
“If you’re gonna be this whiny forever, then that’s just going to annoy me, so I’m gonna call it quits here. Don’t you ever, ever, ever talk to me ever again. Don’t you even think of entering my line of sight either,” said Ibuki-san.
“Fine by me. I don’t remember ever being the one who bothered you, though. We never had a relationship that was worth severing in the first place,” I argued.
Rather, if anything, I’m the one who has thrown a great deal of my own money, time, and effort into helping her, the broke one. There were things to be grateful for, and I didn’t remember ever criticizing her over any of them.
“Yeah, you’re right. Bye,” said Ibuki-san.
Perhaps Ibuki-san felt refreshed after kicking me and saying what she wanted to say, because she walked away without further issue.
“Why do these things keep happening…?” I sighed.
Our third year at school had just begun. That moment I looked at the plate for Class A was the only moment of happiness I had felt so far. It’s been so difficult.
Someone…
Help me…
Ayanokouji-ku—
“Are you…okay?”
As I was crouching, keeping my face pointed down, someone called out to me.
“Wow, she really kicked you in the back super hard. Are you hurt? Should I call a teacher?”
It was Karuizawa-san. Perhaps she had seen that whole ordeal from start to finish, because she was looking at me with concern. Seeing that she was still in her uniform, it seemed like she had only just left school herself.
“I’m fine… The pain is finally starting to subside. That girl seriously doesn’t have a lick of common sense…” I huffed.
Karuizawa-san offered me her hand, but when I went to take it, I remembered that I had blood and dirt on my palm and tried to pull myself back. But Karuizawa-san anticipated that I would do so and proceeded to gently grab me by the wrist and pull me up. She then brushed the dirt off of my uniform with a handkerchief that she had on her. I didn’t have the energy to tell her no, so I just watched her as she devotedly cleaned me up.
“I’m sorry. Thank you. I’m sure what you saw incomprehensibly came out of nowhere… Did you hear what we talked about?” I asked.
“No… I was sitting on the bench, and I saw you and Ibuki-san together,” said Karuizawa-san.
Saying that, she pointed to the bench that was in the direction of the dormitory. Normally, I would have noticed her, but I hadn’t been aware of her presence. I supposed it was no wonder that I couldn’t detect Ibuki-san either, then. Karuizawa-san picked up my bag and then urged me to sit on the bench. Although I was putting up a tough front, I was still in quite a bit of pain, so I graciously took her up on her invitation.
“I’m sorry about your handkerchief,” I apologized. “I got it all dirty, didn’t I?”
“No, no, it’s all right. I mean, it’s supposed to be used for cleaning up, anyway,” said Karuizawa-san.
“I’m just really hopeless right now, aren’t I…?” I replied.
Letting out a sigh, I closed my eyes. I realized that everyone had been seeing me look so pathetic all this time.
“I’m sorry about the exam today too. The class didn’t win because of me,” I told her.
“I don’t think that it was your fault, Horikita-san. If we scored more points, we could’ve won the Whole Class Competition,” said Karuizawa-san.
“Even so…it’s my responsibility to secure a win,” I replied.
I needed to really get it together from here on out. I’ve even been making Karuizawa-san of all people fuss about me.
“Honestly, it’s kind of unexpected,” said Karuizawa-san.
“Unexpected?” I asked.
“I guess I always had this image in my head of you of being like, incredibly put together all the time, Horikita-san.”
“That’s not true at all. I’m…” I tried to deny what she said, but I quickly lost my voice. That was because my denial would be a lie. “No…that’s not it. I’d even tricked myself into thinking I was keeping things together remarkably well. But I wasn’t. The one holding it all together wasn’t me…” I balled my hands into fists as they rested on my lap. Pain slowly spread from my injured palms. “I realized that I was only able to stand up straight because Ayanokouji-kun was in the class,” I added.
I was a false leader. I was being propped up, but I naively thought it was my own strength.
“I’m a weak person, so it’s okay if you laugh at me,” I told her.
Rather than being consoled, I would have preferred to be chastised. That’s what I felt like I deserved.
“I’m not going to laugh at you. Because I’m weak, too,” said Karuizawa-san.
Despite everything, she didn’t even attempt to blame me.
“That’s not true. You’ve had a tough core, from the very first day you started here. That’s putting aside the matter of whether all of your methods were praiseworthy or not though,” I replied.
She quickly opened up to the other girls in our class and made friends instantly. Also, though she had a bit of a bad reputation, there was no doubt that she was at the center of her social circle. I never could have done something like that, even if I had tried. I wondered if Ayanokouji-kun’s transfer was a good thing in Karuizawa-san’s mind… As the one who had dumped him, I wondered if she was glad that he was gone. But I felt like Karuizawa-san hadn’t smiled even once since the day he left. Was that simply because she was worried about the future of our class?
“What did Ayanokouji-kun mean to you?” I asked.
Even though I felt like I shouldn’t have gone there, the words naturally spilled out of my mouth.
“What did he mean to me? Hmm…it’s hard to describe in just a few words, but…” she began. Karuizawa-san looked up at the sunset, as though she were collecting her thoughts. “He was someone indispensable. Someone precious… Someone I love…”
From her side profile and the way she spoke, it really didn’t seem to me like she was the one who had dumped Ayanokouji-kun.
“By any chance…was…was he the one who ended it…?” I asked.
“I can’t say. Because not saying it is…the reason for my existence,” said Karuizawa-san.
“You’re…” I began.
I’m so shallow and stupid… I thought. My suffering wasn’t something that could even compare to Karuizawa-san’s. I could finally get that through my head thanks to this moment.
“It makes you want to just stomp your feet in frustration, doesn’t it? When an avalanche of painful things just comes down on you,” said Karuizawa-san.
“Yeah…it really does,” I answered.
What had been there lodged deep in my heart for so long was now being swept away, all because of Karuizawa-san. Little by little, I felt my clouded vision gradually begin to clear up.
“Ow, my hands… That girl seriously has some screws loose. It was nothing but wanton violence on her part,” I huffed.
When I calmed down a little, the pain in my palms came back.
“Maybe so. But…don’t you think that maybe Ibuki-san was worried about you in her own way?” she asked.
“Her? There is no way that’s possible!”
“I’ve been sitting on this bench all day, and Ibuki-san had just been kinda wandering around this area with no sign of going back to her dorm. To me, it kinda felt like she was waiting for someone to come, you know?” said Karuizawa-san.
“She must have been waiting for someone else,” I replied.
If I made Ibuki-san of all people worry about me, then that means I must’ve been seriously far gone. That’s not good. Well, putting whatever her true intentions were aside, the fact of the matter was that I’d been a complete wreck.
“Hey, Horikita-san? Can I ask you an insensitive question?”
“An insensitive question? What is it?” I asked.
“Did you maybe…like, like Ayanokouji-kun, too?” asked Karuizawa-san.
“Huh?” I blinked.
When I looked in Karuizawa-san’s eyes, it didn’t seem like she was joking. She was gazing at me in a deadly serious manner.
“Wh-what kind of stupid nonsense are you sputtering?” I answered.
Me, like him? The idea of that, it’s…it’s not possible… Though those thoughts ran through my mind, I couldn’t help but flash back to what happened during spring vacation. My heart was pounding like crazy at that time. It was an indescribable feeling, a mixture of both happiness and embarrassment. An emotion that I had never experienced before.
“There’s no way. Something like that, it’s simply not possible,” I declared.
It took everything I had to squeeze those words out.
“I’ve never had the experience of liking someone as much as or more than my family before…” I added.
“But don’t you think that maybe the fact that you couldn’t answer immediately is kind of an answer in itself? If you didn’t like him, wouldn’t you come straight out and deny it? Like ‘It’s just because he was my business partner,’ or something like that? Oh…but I dunno if I’m using that term correctly,” said Karuizawa-san.
Karuizawa-san wasn’t angry at all; actually, she was chuckling a little, even though I was sure that my sadness and frustration were nothing compared to hers.
“You know, you’re…a much better person than I thought you were,” I remarked.
“Whoa. You just realized that now?” asked Karuizawa-san.
“Yes. I thought you were a much nastier student,” I said.
“Whoa, rude! Nah, just kidding, I get it,” she said. Then, after making such a self-deprecating comment, she continued speaking. “To be honest, I think I really was horrible. I was arrogant, selfish. I’d be running around making people lend me money but never pay them back, stuff like that. I’d do whatever I wanted, as much as I wanted. At least, that’s what I was like right when I first I came to this school.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re saying all this because of my thoughtless comment… It really wasn’t much of a compliment from me, was it?” I replied.
“No, it’s okay. It’s the truth after all. I didn’t like myself either. But I can only say that now that I’ve changed.”
“How…did you change?”
“Kiyotaka, he… No, sorry, I mean, Ayanokouji-kun… He’s the one…who rescued me from the darkness,” said Karuizawa-san.
“Darkness…?” I asked.
When Karuizawa-san looked at me, she had a somewhat ephemeral look on her face.
“I’ll tell you and only you a secret about Ayanokouji-kun, Horikita-san, one that even Maya-chan doesn’t know,” said Karuizawa-san.
Karuizawa-san gently took my hands in hers, squeezing them gently. Her hands were cold, but for some reason, there was a strange warmth to them that made me feel very relieved. Though my palms should have been hurting from the scrapes, I could forget about the pain for this single moment.
I was told about the life path that the woman known as Karuizawa Kei had taken. She delved into a past that I had never imagined, going over how she was bullied mercilessly in junior high, and how she decided that she’d change her life by coming to this school. I heard about her determination to join the top caste all while being prepared to be hated for it, and about her fake romance with Hirata-kun. And she told me that there was a more recent bullying incident that was triggered by some students finding out about these things, and how she was rescued due to Ayanokouji-kun’s intervention.
But that was all a setup on Ayanokouji-kun’s part that had happened when we were in our first year. Then there was that fight with Ryuuen-kun that took place on the rooftop. I had heard about that incident from Ibuki-san over summer vacation, but her memory wasn’t good enough to be reliable—or, to be more precise, the details of the incident were unclear, and her story was filled with holes. Though I had known that Karuizawa-san had suffered through some horrible treatment from Ryuuen-kun, I didn’t know the particulars.
All the gaps in my knowledge were filled in as she recounted her memories. I suddenly felt a single tear trickling down my cheek. I felt some sympathy for her horrendous past. It seemed like she played the part of a nasty, disagreeable person in an effort to appear strong, no matter how difficult or steep the path was. But that wasn’t the reason why I was crying. It was because I should have tried to have a more nuanced understanding back then, back when Ibuki-san told me.
“He… He never mentioned anything like this…” I muttered.
He was next to me all that time. He was physically close, so I felt like I knew him. But I was wrong. Maybe I didn’t know him better than anyone else. The only thing he ever showed me was his back. He never turned around or waited for me.
“Pathetic,” I muttered.
I was pathetic. I assumed that I was the victim here, that I was the one more hurt and depressed than anyone, while being totally in the dark about reality.
“I’m really pathetic…” I repeated.
“Me too,” said Karuizawa-san.
Saying that, she smiled. Seeing her true smile, my expression naturally relaxed too. It might have been the first time in a long while that I had authentically smiled.
Me and Karuizawa-san. Up until now, I didn’t think that we would have ever connected like this. But now, I felt closer to her than anyone else in the class.
I squeezed her hands back. When I did that, it seemed as if Karuizawa-san’s pent-up feelings had overflowed, as there were now tears glistening on her cheeks.
“We’ve both gone and gotten ourselves involved with a really difficult person, huh?” said Karuizawa-san.
“It seems like we have… It really does,” I replied.
It would surely be better not to get too deeply involved with him. I’d been forced to see the truth in that regard. But…I couldn’t back down now.
“Now that it’s come to this, I’m going to make him recognize our true strength, no matter the cost. And I’m going to show him that I will absolutely graduate from Class A with all of you. I promise,” I declared.
It wasn’t going to be simple. Now that he was our enemy, graduating from Class A was going to be harder, to an almost unprecedented degree. But I wasn’t going to stand still any longer.
“You really are strong, Horikita-san,” said Karuizawa-san.
“That’s not true. I’m a weak human being. But now, I’ve realized that I’m not alone,” I replied.
If I could make allies, then my promise would be achievable.
“All right then. I think…it’s about time that I get myself out of this funk too,” said Karuizawa-san.
Wiping away her tears, Karuizawa-san suddenly stretched and stood up, getting off the bench. Then she turned to me with a smile on her face again.
“Let’s make him regret that he transferred out of our class, together, you and me,” said Karuizawa-san.
“Yes. We’ll definitely make him regret it,” I replied.
Finally, in both reality and in our minds, we took our first steps forward.
9.1
THE SPECIAL EXAM ended without incident with victory for Class C and Class D. Afterward, there was a small welcome party held for me at Keyaki Mall by Shimazaki and some of the others, and I was now on my way back to the dormitory after the celebration. It was already dusk; the sun was setting and night would soon fall. I told my classmates to go on ahead, and I pivoted from the route to the dormitory in order to make a detour. Looking up at the sky, I thought about what lay ahead.
It would probably be at least a few weeks before the school would announce the next special exam. Generally, students would spend this interim period as if they were typical students while also recharging their batteries. But the clock was most definitely ticking, and my remaining time was dwindling quickly. On top of that, when a student entered their third year, the issue of “what’s next” followed them around constantly. It wasn’t only April. Rather, it was already April. And there was no time to rest for a class that was behind.
That was why I was going to take all the steps I possibly could now. I needed to be prepared for every possibility. It was no different from securing things such as emergency food rations and supplies in preparation for a disaster. If I could get through without having to use what I gathered, that would be all the better.
It was now early evening. Kushida, the Class A student who had been summoned here, had her hands on the railing, quietly waiting alone for the person she was expecting to arrive: me.
“Why did you choose this place as the rendezvous point?” I asked as I approached.
Without turning around to look at me, Kushida replied, “I unintentionally let you see another side of me about the time that we first started school here, didn’t I, Ayanokouji-kun.”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” I replied.
Kushida had, by coincidence, been reunited with Horikita at this school. Since they went to the same junior high, she was under an excessive amount of stress, which had built up to an unbelievable extent. Her classmates, who had truly thought she had a gentle personality, must have been genuinely surprised when they learned about her true nature.
At the time, Kushida had quickly demonstrated that she wasn’t above using her body to shut me up. It was strange; it was only two short years ago, but it felt like ancient history.
“What happened was kind of an accident, but when you threatened me, I was apprehensive about the potential consequences,” I told her.
“I’m not sure about that. You kept the idea of luring me into a trap in the back of my mind ever since then, didn’t you?” said Kushida.
“I had no intention of doing that. Really,” I answered.
Even though I responded as such, Kushida gave me a look that told me she didn’t believe me at all. There were still too many things I didn’t know when I first came to this school. The most important of which was probably the circumstances of others from my generation. In the White Room, people the same age as me fell by the wayside and disappeared in a matter-of-fact manner. I was put in an environment where I was all alone for a very long time.
From the time I left the White Room to the time I came to this school, I’d never once closed the distance between myself and a girl my age.
No…
There was the girl who had dropped out of the White Room that I had met once before, likely before coming to this school, wasn’t there? Perhaps my brain felt it was unessential information, because most of my memories related to that girl have long since slipped away. But for a moment, I suddenly recalled a past that originally wasn’t necessary to remember, a figure from my childhood. What was that girl’s name again? What kinds of conversations did we have? Or did we not talk at all?
I couldn’t recall about 99 percent of all of that. Perhaps I could say that was one of the harmful side-effects of devoting all of my brain’s resources to learning. It was something I would never have been cognizant of if I hadn’t gone outside of the White Room. Maybe it was because I had learned a lot about the fabric of human relationships at this school, but I was currently slightly curious about the past. I wondered how that girl and others were doing now. I also wondered if some of them were being re-educated, like Yagami, too.
“Why did you call me out here?” asked Kushida, urging me to speak. Perhaps she’d grown tired of my continued silence as I was reminiscing about the past just now.
“I was wondering about how things are in class. I’m a little worried,” I told her.
“Really? If you’re so interested in such things, then you shouldn’t have transferred,” said Kushida.
“That’s true,” I replied.
“You’re really here to talk about something else, right?”
After going over and standing next to the ever-perceptive Kushida, I decided to cut to the chase.
“In order for me to close the gap between my class and Class A, it’d be easier for me if I had someone on the inside from this point forward,” I told her.
“Huh? Don’t tell me you’re asking me to betray the class?!” exclaimed Kushida.
“Yep, I most certainly am. And I’ll pay you Private Points if you produce enough to warrant it.”
When I admitted that to her, I felt like Kushida smiled a little.
“I’ve suffered some pretty painful experiences thanks to exchanges of Private Points. Did you seriously think I’d cooperate with you after you’ve become my enemy?” she asked.
Kushida flat-out rejected the idea without even so much as turning to look at me throughout the whole conversation.
“You’re free to turn me down, of course. But if you do, I can’t guarantee secrecy,” I replied.
Her true nature had already been exposed to her class. However, it was not yet well-known among the other classes.
“Do you think that’s much of a threat? Ryuuen-kun knows too,” she replied.
“Yeah, but it’s because he’s Ryuuen that my threat holds. If he tried to spread word about your bad reputation, he’d lack credibility.”
If Ryuuen did bring up Kushida’s wickedness in the future, she could easily brush it off and say that she didn’t know anything about it. Students of Class A likely wouldn’t go out of their way to help Ryuuen either.
“If that’s the case, then aren’t you in the same boat? Since you’ve selfishly transferred, there’s no guarantee whatsoever that people will believe you even if you go and expose me,” Kushida pointed out.
“It depends on how I do it,” I replied.
“Meaning you feel…confident about your methods?”
“I won’t deny that.”
Kushida’s eyes narrowed, as if to say that she wasn’t surprised by my answer, or rather, that she had expected it. I wondered what else was reflected in her eyes as she gazed out at the scenery.
“Now that Horikita’s lost her nerve, you can beat the class down even without my help though, can’t you?” said Kushida.
“It’s not that easy. Horikita will definitely pull herself together in the near future,” I replied.
“Oh? You unexpectedly hold that woman in high regard, huh?”
It might’ve been difficult for Horikita if she was alone, but with the help of her classmates, it was a different story. Sooner or later, they’d stand as a major obstacle before Class C and Class D.
“Moreover, if the need arises to forcefully expel students in the future, then things will change considerably,” I replied.
When I told her that, Kushida looked at me for the first time during this conversation to confirm what my true intentions were.
“Expel a student…? Like from our class?” asked Kushida.
“I can’t think of any reason to specifically exclude your class,” I replied.
Students would be expelled from Class A based on information from Kushida. When she heard that, there was one major thing that popped into her mind.
“Well, now, that’s a substantial risk. Even if you give me some pocket money or something and I drag the class down, it’ll all be for nothing if I can’t graduate from Class A. And in the unlikely event that they find out that I’ve got a connection to you, Ayanokouji-kun, I’ll lose my position completely,” she said.
“Then I’ll just have to save up enough Private Points during the course of this year for you to transfer,” I replied.
“I don’t know how serious you are about this,” Kushida retorted.
There was skepticism on her part, but just on the surface. She wasn’t interested in trying to find out if what I was saying was true. Either she was assuming it was a lie from the beginning, or she had another reason. Also, she was putting up a front, so as not to let me read what her true intentions were. It seemed like she didn’t want me to know where her true emotions lay.
“I’m not telling you to give me an answer right away or anything. You’re also free to tell Horikita or anyone else that I came to you with a proposal to betray. If you’re recording this conversation on your phone, you can disseminate that too, if you wish. Because doing so would lead to Horikita’s class uniting,” I replied.
“Wow, what’s that supposed to mean? Okay, in that case, what do you want to do, Ayanokouji-kun? You want to make Class A fall, right?” said Kushida.
“Unfortunately, there’s more than one thing I want to do,” I replied.
Although I intentionally obscured the details, Kushida didn’t seem to intend to pursue the matter either.
“I don’t really get it, but I’m fairly sure you’re just selfishly trying to get your way,” Kushida said. “You were the only person to be all big and flashy in the special exam by getting a perfect score, and now there’s no need for you to hide anything anymore, huh?”
“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” I replied.
I decided that was enough for now, since I told her all that I needed to today. I figured that I’d just ask Kushida to make her decision another time.
“Did you…give advice to Ichinose-san’s class this time? They guessed three of our people correctly,” said Kushida.
“Only a little,” I replied. “Given Horikita’s mental state, there was a high probability that Hirata would be at the center of what moves they made. I told them that there was a high chance that Yukimura could still win even if he was given a few penalties. And that Wang Mei-yu would be in a similar position, and that she would agree to participate to meet Hirata’s expectations. Additionally, since Kouenji is relatively serious about his studies, there was a possibility that your class would be thinking he’d lead to an upset. Just those sorts of things.”
“Weren’t you afraid that you might’ve been forced to take responsibility if your predictions were wrong?” asked Kushida.
“What I said was only within the range of calculation, of course; I couldn’t give any absolute guarantees. But if you were going to select five people at random anyway, then you could say that it was worth taking a gamble, couldn’t you?” I replied.
I couldn’t let myself forget that it wasn’t just my own machinations behind those calculations, but also Ichinose’s own moves and information that she had properly collected firsthand, such as how Hirata had been called on to formulate a strategy. That was precisely why Ichinose was also able to accept my advice. It was the kind of relationship that couldn’t be established with one side completely relying on the other. My cell phone vibrated, so I took it out and looked at the screen.
“Who’s it from?”
“Hashimoto. He invited me to keep the welcome party going at the dorm.”
“You produced results in this special exam and have been properly accepted by Class C too, then.”
“That about sums it up.”
Just as I turned my back to her and was about to leave, Kushida called out to me once more.
“Hey.”
“What’s up?” I asked.
“You’d really provide me with those Private Points?”
“Of course. I’d also tell you the amount before you turn traitor. If it isn’t enough, then you can always turn me down, at any time. But there’s no need to do it right now, since both me and my class are kind of short of funds,” I told her.
“Let me think it over,” said Kushida.
“Of course. I’m not really setting a deadline or anything.”
I began to walk away, but I turned around when I felt like I was being watched. Kushida, still holding the railing, was staring right at me.
“You know, I…I’m reluctant to admit it, but I think rather highly of you in some fashion Ayanokouji-kun,” she said.
Before I could reply to that statement, Kushida averted her gaze.
“That’s all. I just thought I’d let you know,” said Kushida.
“I see. Well, later,” I replied.
What she said carried some deeper implications, but it wasn’t necessary for me to dwell on that right now. Now what remained to be seen was if Kushida would prioritize her own convenience over the class. With that decision waiting to be made, I was able to add one more thing to look forward to later.
Chapter 10: What Lies Ahead
Chapter 10:
What Lies Ahead
IT WAS NOW THE DAY AFTER I spoke to Kushida and had the welcome party, and class had finally let out. There was still one remaining problem within the class that I had wanted to take care of as soon as possible, and I was planning to do just that, along with a certain someone. However, unexpectedly, there was someone else who wanted to see me. I received a passionate request to meet right away, so I left my classroom to meet their demands. Students who had finished getting ready to go back to their dorm rooms were beginning to appear one after another as I made my way down the hall.
My timing coincided with that of my former classmates Hondou and Okiya, but they reflexively averted their eyes from me. Their behavior seemed to be a result not just regarding the matter of my transfer, but also my results in this exam. It seemed that their impression of me was starting to change, little by little. Without paying the two of them any mind, I headed to the exit and left the school building. From there, I headed straight for the dormitory.
“Ah.”
Along the way, I saw both Utomiya and Tsubaki walking toward me.
“Hello…” said Utomiya, not even attempting to conceal the fact that he felt like I was a nuisance, and gave me a slight bow.
“I feel like I haven’t seen the two of you together in a long while,” I remarked.
“It’s not like we’re together twenty-four hours a day,” replied Tsubaki matter-of-factly.
I didn’t really have anything to talk to them about, so I tried to brush past them, not bothering to stop.
“There’s some kind of rumor going around. About you transferring classes,” remarked Tsubaki. She didn’t seem to be all that interested, more like she was just making small talk.
“Going down to Class C after finally getting to Class A? That’s not normal,” commented Utomiya.
“Well, I think you mean it’s not normal for a senpai, right?” said Tsubaki.
“Maybe so,” said Utomiya.
If I remembered correctly, the last time I saw Tsubaki was when we ran into each other early in the morning at the training camp. We had a conversation about things like ‘Who do you want to meet after you graduate?’ and the like. In the end, Horikita and Ibuki woke up while we were in the middle of chatting, and we parted ways with the hopes of likely continuing the conversation sometime, but we hadn’t been blessed with the opportunity to talk since then. However, since she didn’t seem to be bringing it up even after running into me like this, I figured it wasn’t that important.
“We have someplace to be, so if you’ll please excuse us…” said Tsubaki.
“Sure,” I replied.
I had a meeting too, so I couldn’t just stand around and chat for a long time myself. We each continued in the direction we were heading and passed by each other. In that moment, Tsubaki stared intently at me with a sideways glance. It seemed like she wanted to say something, and those old memories suddenly welled up.
“Tsubaki Sakurako…huh?” I thought aloud.
A forgotten memory.
An unneeded memory.
But humans were such extraordinarily mysterious creatures. Even if we didn’t plan to hold onto a memory, we could recall it when we least expected.
She must have heard what I said, because Tsubaki stopped and turned around, looking somewhat displeased.
“What is it? It’s scary when someone just calls my full name out of nowhere like that.” she said.
I felt like “scary” might have been an overstatement, but it certainly was understandable to feel weirded out being called by your full name. I didn’t mind it so much now, but the way Morishita always used my full name left me feeling nothing but discomfort at first.
“I was reminiscing about when we talked at the training camp,” I replied.
“Huh? You were thinking back to what we talked about back then? I’m sure it didn’t matter to you at all though, Senpai,” said Tsubaki.
“What did you talk about with him?” asked Utomiya.
“Oh, it’s got nothing to do with you, Utomiya-kun,” Tsubaki said sharply.
Utomiya averted his gaze, looking somewhat uncomfortable after he was shot down.
“I was thinking about how we got interrupted in the middle of our conversation back then,” I replied.
“Well, sure, I suppose we did. Anyway, the conversation wasn’t a big deal for you, Senpai, so it’s not really—”
“Just recently, I suddenly realized that I had someone outside of my family that I’d like to meet,” I said, cutting her off. “That’s probably thanks to my conversation with you at the training camp, Tsubaki. So I wanted to say that I was grateful for that, more or less.”
“Someone…outside of your family? Who?” she asked.
If I gave her a lengthy report, it would only make her uncomfortable. That’s what I thought, but for some reason, she asked me that question anyway.
“I’m not sure how to put it. If I had to use a more appropriate term to describe them, I’d say they’re a…childhood friend,” I replied.
That’s right. Old thoughts started through my mind once again. Children around my age who studied with me in the White Room, most of whose names I had forgotten. One girl was among them.
Her name was Yuki, the word for “snow” in Japanese.
That was her name. I hypothesized that it might have been due to the association of the snow camellia flower, and the fact that she reminded me somewhat of Tsubaki, whose name meant “camellia,” that may have been the coincidental trigger that made me recall those faint memories. No… Was it really all just a coincidence?
“Do you like snow, Senpai?”
Tsubaki had asked me that at the training camp. At the time, I didn’t feel like it was anything out of the ordinary, but something felt different now.
“And…what do you plan to do when you meet them?” she asked.
Tsubaki should have lost interest by now, but she was still pressing me.
“It’s not as if we’re actually going to meet up, though. I just felt like I wanted to see them out of a sense of nostalgia, is all,” I replied.
The distant past and the present. I felt like something would change if we met. But it probably would be better not to. I only felt like things would change. Most likely, the essence would be unchanged. There likely wouldn’t be any new feelings that would awaken. When it came right down to it, whether or not there’s a connection between Tsubaki and that girl was absolutely meaningless.
10.1
I WAS ON MY WAY to meet the certain someone that had called me to the back of the dormitory, near the garbage collection point. Since it hadn’t been very long since class had ended, this place was one of the least populated areas. By the time I had arrived, the person I was meeting was already there waiting for me, blending into the shadows.
“Sorry. Did I make you wait?” I asked.
And sure enough, when I called out to them, they took a step forward from their cover deep in the shadows.
“Excellent. You didn’t run away.”
The person who muttered those words was a student of Class C: Kitou Hayato. From the time I transferred up until this point, I hadn’t had a single conversation with him.
“It’s my duty to respond to my classmates when they want my attention,” I replied.
“You’re already acting like you’re the class leader?” he asked.
“I don’t think I’m incorrect when I say that the class seems to have decided that I can be entrusted with guiding things along, to a certain extent at least. It seems that you don’t feel that way though, Kitou,” I replied.
My relationship with Kitou was by no means good, but I didn’t think it was bad either. Before my transfer, we had the kind of relationship where we had no problems exchanging hellos.
“I do not recognize you as the leader,” said Kitou.
“Well, I expected as much, considering that we hadn’t even exchanged looks at this point, much less talk. Are you not willing to accept anyone other than Sakayanagi?” I asked.
“No…it doesn’t matter to me if it’s Sakayanagi or not,” said Kitou.
“That’s odd. In that case, why’d you follow Sakayanagi so obediently?” I asked.
“If I’m not the one leading the class, it’s necessary for someone to step forward. When I was asked to choose between Katsuragi and Sakayanagi, I simply chose the individual who stood a better chance of winning. That was because I thought they would get me closest to graduating from Class A,” explained Kitou.
As he spoke, I saw the growing irritation in his face.
“But…ultimately, Sakayanagi thought only of her own convenience, right up to the end. Essentially, she didn’t care about Class A, and did whatever she liked as long as she could enjoy herself. Even so, I didn’t mind. As long as she got results…”
For Kitou, who was clumsy with his words, it seemed like he was fine with whoever could guide him to Class A, whether that was Sakayanagi, Katsuragi, or even a third party, and all he had done was place his bets on Sakayanagi, who had a good chance of making that happen. I figured that he was trying to say that there were no feelings of like or dislike in that; he was making a dry judgment based solely on weighing the advantages and disadvantages.
“This is the result of leaving matters to someone else,” he added.
“I’m not in a position to speak for others, but your class was demoted two ranks as a result of Sakayanagi’s selfish actions. You’re that close to the bottom of the ranking. It’s no wonder you’re dissatisfied, I suppose,” I replied.
“You’re just like Sakayanagi. You don’t really care about things like graduating from A,” said Kitou.
“Indeed, it’s true that I’m planning to do whatever I want as well. And I’m sure that’s causing you a lot of stress, Kitou. But at the very least, I’m planning to bring the class up from its current level up to the point where you have a chance to reach A. Won’t that be enough?” I asked.
“I can’t believe you.”
That’s exactly why, this time, I decided to take things a step further myself and get involved, instead of making broad decisions based solely on advantages or disadvantages. I’m sure he was thinking something like that.
“I’m going to test whether you are worthy of my trust in my own way,” said Kitou as he pulled his black leather gloves back and clenched both of his fists tightly. “I already know that you’re strong… So I want you to suppress my dissatisfaction with your strength.”
This meant that what Kitou wanted wasn’t some kind of tactical maneuvering, like what kinds of strategies I could come up with for special exams, nor a breakdown of my opponent’s thinking. No matter what kinds of knowledge I demonstrated, his doubt would remain. He seemed to be saying that if I showed him my raw power, he would swallow his dissatisfaction and follow me.
“That line of thinking is similar to Ryuuen, but it’s simple, and it’s not wrong. If you want to try it that way, I’m happy to oblige, but…before we do this, I want to bring one thing to your attention, as a warning, regarding a separate matter,” I replied.
“A warning…? What are you talking about?”
“I understand that, even though speaking isn’t your strong suit, you have a reasonable amount of confidence in your physical strength. If that’s the case, you should have been the first one to make a move when Ryuuen burst into the classroom,” I told him.
“You wanted me to hit Ryuuen?”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m saying that if you had acted quickly, you could have prevented Sawada from being in harm’s way. She could’ve gotten seriously injured if she weren’t lucky.”
Kitou, who had been sitting near Sawada, had deliberately chosen to ignore the situation and not do anything.
“Don’t make me laugh. As if I’d—”
“If it’s because you don’t acknowledge me as the class leader, that kind of reasoning is incredibly childish,” I said, cutting him off. “Even someone like Kouenji can act to protect his classmates when they are in imminent danger. I have no intention whatsoever of imposing such old-fashioned values like ‘men must protect women,’ but as long as we’re talking about allies in our class, there’s no need for hesitation when it comes to the strong protecting the weak.”
“Allies…? So you’re saying that if I don’t think of the others in that way, then there’s no problem,” said Kitou.
“Yes, if that’s genuinely how you see it, then it’s true that there’s no problem. However, if that’s your thought process, then Kitou Hayato’s presence would be unnecessary in Class C,” I replied.
Someone who only made one-sided demands and didn’t cooperate with the class could only be tolerated if it were they had hidden talents within. Otherwise, there was no option but for someone with a lawless stance like that to disappear.
“Very well… If you win, I will follow you from here on out. If you win,” said Kitou.
Kitou stopped there and extended one of his long arms toward me. His arm could reach my collar, but I grabbed it, stopping him. However, he didn’t panic and tried to pull his arm back toward himself, even though it was still firmly in my clutches. I knew even before he made his move that his intention was to strike me once, in any way he could, and make me lose my will to fight. Most people probably would’ve had their mouths shut from that one blow, filled with intimidation, that he tried.
“Hm…?!”
However, as soon as he realized that he couldn’t easily pull himself toward me, he broke free of my grip. Kitou didn’t forcefully jump at me to keep up the assault but instead observed. He seemed to be accustomed to fighting, and it seemed like he was able to sense danger through instinct. After a pause, he resumed his stance, and stomped his feet provocatively, albeit with light steps.
“For most people, when I glare at them, they’re disgusted and frightened at the same time, to greater or lesser degrees,” said Kitou.
From the sounds of it, that probably wasn’t just because he was strong. His words also contained self-deprecation, that he felt he looked like something that people would be afraid of.
“Unfortunately for you, I don’t care about superficial things like that,” I replied.
Perhaps he actually was offended by my indifference, because he shot me a sharp look. Immediately after that, he took a powerful step forward, clenched his right fist, and thrust it right at me. It was a straight punch with no wasted movement, and it was almost as though the sound of his arm cutting through the air reverberated in my ears. I remained calm; I avoided the punch by taking a light step backward. After avoiding such attacks two or three times in the same manner, Kitou stopped, frustrated.
“Why aren’t you attacking…?” he asked.
“Hm, I wonder,” I replied.
When I gave him a non-answer, Kitou clicked his tongue and took another swing at me. This time, he came at me with his left as his main axis. But that punch didn’t connect either.
Against an opponent like Kitou, who by nature had a long reach, the theory would be to make good use of footwork to get up close to him and bring the fight to close range. However, Kitou knew this. That was exactly why I wasn’t going to simply step in close.
Kitou was growing frustrated by my actions, which were different from what he had imagined. Moreover, there was no sign of a counterattack.
Next, it seemed like he intended to use his legs, and he launched a kick in my direction. Just as the tip of his foot was about to hit me directly in the abdomen, I moved to avoid it just like how I avoided his punches. Doing so created a huge opening, and without missing that moment, I gently pushed Kitou’s body back with the palm of my hand.
“Ngh…?!”
Kitou lost his balance and took a step backward, slightly unsteady on his feet. If I were using Ryuuen as a comparison, Kitou didn’t only use his arms and legs in the same way, but he also excelled at irregular attacks. However, Kitou didn’t use his legs quite as well. Even so, his upper body movements were more polished than Ryuuen’s, and he understood how the reach of his long arms gave him an advantage in a fight. The moment that he tried to regain his footing, he focused his attention to his feet…
I drove my left fist into Kitou’s abdomen.
He was in agony, rendered completely speechless. This was sheer carelessness born from the selfish self-conceit he had that I wasn’t going to attack. Kitou’s arms, which he had intended to use for counterattacking, instead took a defensive reaction, and were now guarding his abdomen. Since I wasn’t planning on striking him more than once, I intended to finish this off with a single blow. I hadn’t used my dominant arm, but I thought that attack just now would’ve been enough.
However, though Kitou’s knees were still bent, he quickly resumed his fighting stance. I supposed it was a kind of tendency that wouldn’t be beaten out of him so easily. The difference in strength must have been felt well enough through both my offensive and defensive tactics in the slight scuffle we’d had so far, but his spirit remained unbroken. Before his brain could grasp that it was pointless, Kitou kicked himself off the ground, this time reaching out with both hands, to close the distance once again.
It would’ve been easy for me to have dealt with that attack, but I deliberately decided to stand my ground and take it. He wrapped all ten of his big, long fingers around my neck and shoved my back against the wall, all with that same momentum. Normally, I would’ve ended up grabbing both of my opponent’s arms to escape from the pressure, but that would’ve been a miscalculated move—it wouldn’t be that easy to peel his arms off of me.
Quickly, I opened both of my hands and slammed my palms against both of Kitou’s ears, on either side of his head. When Kitou’s face contorted at the unexpected attack, and furthermore, one that he had no resistance to, he pulled his arms off of me and retreated. At that moment, I connected with a front kick and Kitou’s knees buckled once again.
“Ugh…!”
Despite the look of anguish that appeared on his face after suffering such an intense blow, Kitou immediately propped himself back up on his knees. He didn’t fall down; he firmly displayed his willpower, showing that he still hadn’t lost yet.
“Y-you’re strong… I-is there…that much of a difference between you and I…?” huffed Kitou.
“You’re plenty strong,” I replied. “But that’s exactly why you should utilize your strength correctly. There’s no need to resort to violence to lead a normal school life. However, there are some students who, at times, will inevitably be put in harm’s way. I want you to protect them, Kitou. In return, as I said before, I promise to bring Class C to a position where it can aim for Class A.”
“I won’t…believe that so easily.”
“That’s fine. The results will follow with the passage of time, much sooner than you think.”
I offered my hand to Kitou, who looked at me with a fearless, powerful gaze.
“Aren’t you afraid that I will eventually grab that hand and forcibly drag you down?” he asked.
“I’ll just hold onto that as just one more thing to look forward to,” I replied.
To that, Kitou gave a slight nod and took my hand. As I started anew in Class C, I figured it wasn’t a bad thing to have some rough moments like this. Dialogue with those who sought dialogue. Shows of strength for those who sought strength.
It was best to close the distance with each student in the way that suited them best. I was prepared to go along with anything in order to do that.
10.2
AS SOON AS CLASS ENDED, Ayanokouji quickly got up and left. Upon seeing this, Morishita immediately got up from her seat and poked Hashimoto’s left shoulder with the stylus for her tablet as hard as she could as he was seated, looking down at his phone. It was more like a thrust rather than a poke. When Hashimoto turned to Morishita, a look of pained anguish on his face, Morishita shot him a glance telling him to follow her, and she went ahead and stepped into the hallway first. A little later, Hashimoto joined her out of the classroom, holding his left shoulder with his right hand.
“That hurt like hell, Morishita. Don’t get my attention in such a violent way like—”
“I am going to be direct. Please go out with me,” said Morishita.
“Huh…?!”
Hashimoto’s eyes widened at what Morishita just said, which was shocking enough to even make him forget the pain for a moment.
“Jeez, come on, that’s a really bold thing to… Hey, wait, I didn’t even think that you liked me like that, though,” he said.
“Huh? What are you misunderstanding here, exactly? I’m telling you that I’m going out to the student council office right now, and I’d like you to come along with me,” said Morishita.
“You dropped the main part of your question on, like, a large scale… You absolutely did that on purpose,” said Hashimoto.
“If you were to have a skeevy look on your face and ogle me, imagining me becoming your girlfriend, and even going so far as picturing me in my underwear or without a stitch of clothing at all, and, even fantasizing about touching me or doing that, I think it would be a good opportunity to put an appropriate distance between me and you, as classmates,” said Morishita.
“Good lord, what a thing to just spout out in a single breath. Well, it’s fine, don’t worry. You’re not my type,” said Hashimoto.
“Though you say that, I say that all men, no matter who they are, are beasts. I can’t help but wonder if you are plotting to take an old proverb, such as ‘shameful is he who spurns a woman’s invitation,’ and forcibly apply it in today’s society?” replied Morishita.
“I’m not plottin’ anything…” Hashimoto protested. “I mean, if you actually want me to go with you, why don’t you act like you want me to? Actually, no, hold on, why are you even coming to me in the first place? I don’t have any business with the student council.”
It was obvious to even Hashimoto himself that Morishita was wary of him, or more precisely, that she hated him.
“If you’re lonely going by yourself, go and ask Ayanokouji,” said Hashimoto.
“I think he must have been holding in a bathroom emergency or something, because he dashed out of here rather quickly,” said Morishita.
“Oh, come on. In that case, you can just go tomorrow, or—”
“That is not an option. I want to check on Horikita Suzune as soon as possible,” said Morishita.
“Horikita…? Why now?” asked Hashimoto.
Here, for the first time, Hashimoto took a bit of interest in Morishita’s actions. Since the pain had finally subsided in his shoulder, he put his right hand down.
“She was defeated by Ichinose Honami’s class in yesterday’s special exam, and I wish to verify her mental state. If we were to drag Ayanokouji Kiyotaka down there, it would cause various problems, no? I do not wish to see her agitated,” she explained.
“Well, yeah, sure, if you brought Ayanokouji with you, her mind would go to the subject of his transfer. So is this all about the results of the special exam, or something that happened before that?”
“It is because you of all people have established some degree of contact with Horikita Suzune, that, in this respect, makes it likely you will be able to extract information from her with your fast-talking ways.”
“I can more or less take that as a compliment then, right?”
“Yes, of course. Because that is a traitor’s forte, after all.”
“That shit again?! I… Well, whatever. I don’t really have any plans, so I don’t mind going with you, I guess.”
“Do not make the mistake of using this as an opportunity to deepen the bonds of friendship with me, because even if you try, it will not raise the parameters of your likeability with me by a single millimeter,” cautioned Morishita.
“I already told you, I won’t…” sighed Hashimoto.
Just as Morishita said, “Well, then, let us be off, posthaste,” and was about to start heading toward the student council, a voice called out from behind the two of them.
“Would it be all right if I tagged along as well?”
It was none other than Shiraishi sounding deeply interested. Her eyes creased happily.
“Shiraishi?! When the heck did you…?” sputtered Hashimoto.
“Who wouldn’t find their curiosity piqued after seeing the two of you stealthily exit the room?” said Shiraishi.
“Unfortunately, you are not wanted, Shiraishi Asuka,” said Morishita.
“I don’t mind you two having your secrets, but we are classmates. Meaning we’re comrades, are we not?” asked Shiraishi in a soft and gentle tone, unfazed by Morishita’s dismissive words.
“I do not wish to have someone whom I am not close to accompany me,” said Morishita.
“Oh my, so Hashimoto-kun is someone you are close to, then?” asked Shiraishi.
“Of course not. However, there is a difference in how far apart we all are. Like the surface and the underside of a toilet seat,” said Morishita.
“I’m allowed to interpret that as if I’m the surface, right? Actually, wait, being the surface sounds pretty awful too,” said Hashimoto.
“Both you and I have left everything to Sakayanagi-san over these past two years and watched in silence, Morishita-san. Is it really that surprising that I would want to finally act for the sake of the class?” said Shiraishi, paying no mind to being compared to the underside of a toilet seat.
“You have a nasty look in your eyes. It is quite impertinent,” said Morishita.
“I shall humbly take that as a compliment,” Shiraishi countered.
“Very well,” Morishita said, giving in. “However, it will be troublesome if we encounter Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. Follow us; there’s no time to waste.”
Now with Shiraishi, an uninvited guest, as part of the group, they began to head to their destination, with Morishita taking the lead.
“Hey, come to think of it Shiraishi, I heard that you took Yoshida and Nishikawa to karaoke along with Ayanokouji the other day,” Hashimoto said.
“Yes. I thought it would make sense in terms of deepening class friendships,” replied Shiraishi.
“I can’t say I’m surprised at you inviting a guy out at this stage, but tell me you’re not planning to make a move on him,” questioned Hashimoto.
“Am I not allowed to play with Ayanokouji-kun or something?”
“I’m not saying it’s wrong, but you shouldn’t. You’ll only get hurt, y’know?”
“I do not mind if I am hurt. That sounds like it could be fun too,” she replied sincerely. “I must say though, he achieved a truly magnificent first victory.”
“Yeah, it really was the best possible start. Not only did we win without incident, but he even used Ryuuen to establish his position to our class in one go. He really is the best,” said Hashimoto. He was smiling happily, but Morishita turned around and muttered something.
“I’m a little scared, Hashimoto Masayoshi.”
“Huh? Scared? Of what?” asked Hashimoto.
“Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. Even when we were acting together, he was constantly on guard about what he said and did. If there were enemies around him, he made them pick up on false promises, going as far as to use us when we were around, even though we knew nothing. He also gave advice to Ichinose Honami and made Horikita Suzune’s class lose. He bares his fangs even against former friends, showing no mercy,” explained Morishita.
“Well, that’s all fine with me. It’d be bad if he showed mercy and cut corners,” said Hashimoto.
“That’s true. Even so, don’t you think that he’s too cutthroat? Even if it’s because he wants to do whatever he wishes in Class C in the future, it’s almost as though his heart does not exist.”
“He’s not a robot. You’re overthinking things. He does show some human emotions, for sure.”
“Perhaps that too is just on the surface, though?”
“What are you going on about…? Exactly what is it you’re trying to say?”
“I do not care what happens to you, but even so, I will give you this warning. For him, this is merely an alignment of interests. He is a helper that we have extracted due to an unavoidable strategy. You had best take to heart that we are nothing more than mere tools to him.”
Morishita had an unexpectedly serious look on her face as she stated her opinion. No, she had stated an admonition. Hashimoto cleared his throat slightly in response to her comment. Shiraishi showed no sign of wanting to participate in their conversation, but was clearly listening attentively.
“I get it. I’ve always treated anyone and everyone the same way, and that’s never going to change, anyway,” said Hashimoto.
“If that’s true, then that’s good. At any rate, I would wholeheartedly recommend that you do not get too deeply involved with him,” said Morishita.
“Are you really one to talk, though? You’ve always preferred to be alone, but now you’re practically obsessed with Ayanokouji.”
Hashimoto, with a cheeky grin on his face, said that to tease Morishita. When he did so, she opened her eyes slightly and walked over to the window.
“You couldn’t be… Wait, hold on… Do you love…?” asked Hashimoto.
As Morishita looked down from where she stood at the window, Shiraishi calmly butted into the conversation.
“Yes, it seems she loves watching the deputy head teacher feed the koi fish in the pond down below,” said Shiraishi.
“Hah, excellent work, Shiraishi Asuka. I never imagined you would’ve picked up on and run with my fanciful comedic bit,” said Morishita.
“… Not bad, Shiraishi,” added Hashimoto.
“Oh no, no, it wasn’t anything worthy of praise,” said Shiraishi.
“Now then, no more silliness. We are off to the student council,” said Morishita.
Morishita, muttering to herself, walked on ahead as though nothing had happened, and Hashimoto and Shiraishi followed after her.
“Anyway, Shiraishi Asuka, you really seem to have taken an interest in Ayanokouji Kiyotaka,” remarked Morishita.
“Wouldn’t it be strange not to be interested? It is an odd thing to willingly transfer into a lower-level class. However, his abilities are notably authentic. More importantly though, his voice is lovely,” said Shiraishi.
“His voice? Well, whatever. But, as I have stated, he is a dangerous person. You will get burned.”
“That is all right with me.”
“It’s…all right with you?”
The always aloof Morishita had an unusually suspicious look on her face.
“At any rate, there is no need to worry about me. However, I must ask: Why go through all the trouble of visiting her at the student council?” asked Shiraishi.
“It’s the easiest,” said Morishita. “If we were to barge into her classroom, we would stand out, and the same would hold true for doing that in the café or on the path back to the dormitory as well. And yet, if we showed up uninvited at her room in the dormitory, we would, of course, make her wary of us. However, if the student council is engaged with their activities, the number of people who will enter the area will be kept to a minimum, and we can observe her in her natural element.”
Eventually, the three of them neared the floor where the student council office was located.
“Are you going to speak with her directly?” asked Shiraishi.
“That depends on the situation, but—”
“Oh—”
When they finally arrived on the floor where the student council office was, the door to the office opened at that exact same moment, causing Morishita, Hashimoto, and Shiraishi to reflexively duck into a nearby corner. Although it wasn’t clear whether it was necessary for them to hide or not, it could be said that their move was a demonstration of the psyche of people acting in a guilty manner.
“You really are an industrious worker, Nanase-san,” said Horikita.
While the three of them were hiding, they took a peek around the corner, silently watching Student Council President Horikita speak with a second-year student, Nanase, who was serving as secretary.
“Oh no, not at all. It’s all thanks to your precise instructions, Student Council President Horikita,” said Nanase.
Nanase, while being modest, spoke words of appreciation for Horikita. If it was only meant superficially, it might have sounded somewhat sarcastic, but it didn’t come across that way. Horikita felt like the look she got from Nanase was pure and that her words were coming from an honest place. Nanase, who had been assigned to Class D when she started school, remained in Class D even now, after a year of fighting.
Fortunately for Class 2-D, they weren’t yet hopelessly behind the classes above them in terms of points. However, Horikita believed that Nanase’s strengths were unlikely to be utilized as long as Housen was the leader. Rather, she felt that Nanase’s class would be able to aim higher if she were to take command at the top. That said, it would be somewhat problematic for Horikita, a third-year student, to make that statement. Even so, there were instances where feelings of wanting to offer support would well up within her slightly, betraying the impartial stance she was supposed to take.
“Are you aiming for Class A too, Nanase-san?” asked Horikita.
“Yes, I am. I wish to graduate from Class A, of course. Though, my number-one goal is to finish my school career without any issues,” said Nanase.
“Because then you can go onto higher education or into the working world on your own strengths?” asked Horikita.
As far as one could tell by looking at OAA, Nanase’s scores were superb. Her attitude and behavior as demonstrated in her day-to-day life were also faultless. It looked to Horikita as though Nanase could easily grab hold of any choice, as long as her aspirations were not astronomically high.
“Oh, no, that’s not it at all… Um, anyway…would you mind if I asked you a few questions about Ayanokouji-senpai, though?” asked Nanase.
Nanase’s words came as no real surprise. The fact that Ayanokouji had transferred classes was a matter of concern to anyone who knew about Ayanokouji, even the kouhai.
“I don’t mind, but there’s not much I can tell you. He changed classes without telling me anything,” said Horikita.
“Without telling you anything, Horikita-senpai? That must have been extremely painful.”
“I can’t say that everything is perfectly okay, even if I were putting up a tough front. But even so, there’s nothing I can do about what’s already happened. I have to keep my eyes to the future, even if I can only slightly bear it.”
Ayanokouji transferred out of her class, and she lost the special exam. However, the look on Horikita’s face was more cheerful than Nanase had imagined it would be.
“If you’d like, how about we go and have some tea at Keyaki Mall?” asked Horikita.
“Really? Is that okay?” asked Nanase.
“Of course.”
“Could I join you a bit later? I wanted to call my friend and tell them something.”
“Sure. You don’t mind if I go on ahead, do you? If it won’t be exceedingly long though, I can wait right here.”
“The café will be crowded at this time of day, so I think it would be best if you went on ahead to get us a spot, actually.”
“I agree. All right then, I’ll see you there.”
“Okay. See you later, Horikita-senpai.”
Morishita, Shiraishi, and Hashimoto had been eavesdropping on their conversation with bated breath. Fortunately, it seemed like Horikita had gone down the stairs on the opposite side, and wasn’t going to discover Hashimoto and the others, much to their relief. Nanase, upon seeing Horikita leave, took her cell phone out from her pocket.
“Hello,” said Nanase.
Apparently, Nanase’s phone had already been ringing, and Nanase connected to the person on the other end of the line.
“Don’t contact me when it’s not urgent or necessary. Wasn’t that the agreement, Tsukishiro-san?” said Nanase.
The three of them initially had no interest whatsoever in Nanase’s call, they all exchanged looks when they heard that familiar name.
“I understand. I will continue to monitor Ayanokouji-senpai for one more year, as planned. However, I am indeed concerned about Ishigami Kyou. In addition to his intellectual curiosity, I assume that he had also been given a role like mine, which was expected. And also…there’s a new first-year student who just enrolled here that I find a bit curious. I can’t imagine this is possible, but…you’re not involved in this, are you?” asked Nanase.
The conversation, which generally did not sound like one that a student would have at all, continued.
“No, it’s not. If push comes to shove, then—”
Just then, at that moment, Nanase pulled out another cell phone from her pocket with her free hand.
“My apologies. Excuse for just a moment, I have some urgent business to attend to,” said Nanase.
Nanase abruptly ended the call in the middle of what felt like a conversation that was still going to continue.
“What’s going on, Horikita-senpai? Oh…I see. I understand. I will be on my way in ten minutes, then. Yes. Yes. If you’ll excuse me,” she said.
Nanase held phones in both her hands. In this school, as a rule, students were only allowed to have one cell phone. Upon seeing something that they were not supposed to, the three of them stopped peeking and pulled back.
But even that slight movement made a little noise. The hallway fell completely silent. Had they been discovered? Or not? In this delicate situation, the three of them were completely frozen. If Nanase walked over to the other side, like Horikita did, there wouldn’t be a problem. That’s what they wished for. But a few short seconds later…
“What are you three senpai doing here?” asked Nanase.
Without making a sound, Nanase appeared before the three who had been hiding in a corner and called out to them.
“Eek?! Oh, uh, nothing, we just had a little business with Horikita is all, right?” said Hashimoto.
“Yes, we have only just arrived here now. What of it?” asked Morishita.
“I see. Horikita-senpai went down the stairs on the other side. It was only about a minute ago, so you may be able to catch up to her if you go right now, Hashimoto-senpai and Morishita-senpai. Oh, and Shiraishi-senpai too,” said Nanase.
Nanase spoke their three names aloud without hesitation, a big smile plastered on her face.
“You know of me?” asked Shiraishi.
“Yes. I am a member of the student council, so of course I more or less know all of my senpai,” explained Nanase. She looked at Shiraishi as if to evaluate her, but soon averted her gaze so that it wouldn’t feel unnatural. “Well, then, if you would please excuse me, senpai.”
After saying that and giving a deep bow, Nanase headed down the stairs.
“Dude, I was seriously freaked out! I broke out in a cold sweat,” said Hashimoto.
“As long as we weren’t discovered, we will be fine. More importantly, she had two cell phones, didn’t she?” said Morishita.
“And what’s more, she said Tsukishiro. Like, that Tsukishiro? What is going on with that second-year?” asked Hashimoto.
“Ayanokouji Kiyotaka’s name was also mentioned, and I can’t help but feel like there is something fishy going on. Gramps was a great detective, and I can feel his blood racing through my veins right now,” said Morishita.
“Okay, that is definitely a lie. But, more importantly, what do we do? Like, if you want, we could try following Nanase?” asked Hashimoto.
“I think that it would be best not to do that. She seems to be highly aware of people’s presence,” said Shiraishi.
Shiraishi muttered those words and fixed her stare down the hallway where Nanase had departed from moments earlier.
Postscript
Postscript
HELLO! KINUGASA HERE. How are you? I’ve been looking forward to being here with you all again in 2025.
So, anyway, my latest problem is pillows. I want the perfect pillow that will alleviate the strain on my neck and back, but I just can’t seem to find it. Once, there was a time where I was like, “Yeah, I paid a lot of money for this custom pillow, this is it!” but after using it for a while, I found that it still wasn’t quite right after all… Though the position, whether I have it up high or low, is important, lately I’ve found that pillows that are either too resilient or hard just don’t seem to be good for me.
But that being said, if it’s too soft or if I sink into it too much, that doesn’t feel right either… I think that there’s no solution. But from here on out, I will continue my quest for a pillow. I really, really want to find the perfect pillow…
I think I’ll stop with the small talk for the time being and talk a little bit about Classroom of the Elite. At last, we’ve begun the final year of high school. In the story, only two years have passed, but in the real world, we’ll soon be at the ten-year milestone, I suppose. I feel as though I have aged quite a bit, along with you, my dear readers. I think that the third-year arc will be roughly the same number of volumes as the first-year and second-year arcs, but please take that with a grain of salt.
And finally, I’d like to share what my goals are for this year. I’ve given it a lot of thought, but, after all, I think that it’s…
To try even harder with my work.
Also, I want to take on some new challenges. I hope that I’ll be able to talk about that in the near future.
Well, then, my dear readers: See you in the next volume!