Chapter 4: These New First-Years are Nothing But Troublemakers

Chapter 4: These New First-Years are Nothing But Troublemakers

Chapter 4:

These New First-Years are Nothing But Troublemakers

T HERE WERE DOZENS of first- and second-year students gathered in the gym. Most of the people there weren’t second-years, but first-years. I supposed that many students saw this meet-and-greet as an important opportunity.

Since I didn’t know who the first-years were at a glance right now anyway, I decided to start by finding out which second-year students were participating in this event.

The leader of Class A, Sakayanagi, was nowhere to be seen. And while I didn’t know if I could exactly call him a stand-in for her, I did see Hashimoto Masayoshi. Sakayanagi had a disability affecting her legs, so her range of movement was limited, making her slow. Hashimoto played an important part in covering her to make up for that.

As far as I could tell, he was the only person from Class A here. Furthermore, it didn’t seem like he was making an attempt to talk to anyone in particular. He was probably scouting around to see who got in touch with whom at this meet-and-greet.

As the organizer for this event, about half of the people from Class B were in attendance, both guys and girls, Ichinose included. Kanzaki was there too, by Ichinose’s side, supporting her. However, I didn’t get the impression that the students in attendance from Class B were those that were either very good students or those who were concerned about their academic prowess. It seemed Class B had simply chosen to send the more sociable members of their class.

On the other hand, after briefly looking around, I saw no sign of anyone from Class C around. It was almost as if they considered this meet-and-greet to be totally optional, right from the very beginning. Through this one event alone, you could somehow see the motives of each of the second-year classes.

However, it wasn’t the second-year students who were important to Horikita today. She was focused on the first-years—the people we hardly knew at all. I was sure that the first-year students, who had only just started here, had no clue as to what was going on yet. Many of them were probably struggling to wrap their heads around the situation with second-year students suddenly asking to pair up with them. They shrank back from everyone else at the event, clinging to their classmates—which is to say, the students that they were already close with.

Upon seeing that, Ichinose tried her best to expand their circle by making self-introductions and casual chit-chat, without really mentioning the special exam. Of course, it wasn’t like people were about to immediately open up or anything. Knowing this, she didn’t rush things, but instead approached people slowly, looking at them with a gentle smile on her face. Then their hardened hearts, which seemed to have been frozen like ice, began to thaw.

After only a few minutes of observation at this meet-and-greet, I had a general idea of how things were going to go from here.

“Rather than prioritizing the special exam, she’s going about building relationships based on mutual trust, first. That is certainly a very Ichinose-san-like way of doing things. An admirable tactic, and one not everyone can pull off,” said Horikita, giving her first impression of the meet-and-greet.

It was unknown just how much Class B was going to make use of this strategy, but it was especially important, nonetheless. What Ichinose was doing could only benefit both the first- and second-year students. Horikita called Ichinose “admirable” for putting such a plan into action. Looking at Horikita’s side profile, I could guess at the strategy she must have been thinking of herself.

“Are you thinking of a similar strategy yourself?” I asked.

“…Yes. A strategy based on using Private Points is too much for Class D to handle. That’s why I thought it would be important for us to build relationships based on trust with the first-years. However, we’re no match for Ichinose-san in that regard at all. Or rather, I should say, that kind of strategy is her specialty,” said Horikita.

If you wanted someone to accept you as their partner, you needed to offer them something. That something could be a lot of different things, like points, trust, friendship, or a debt of gratitude.

“Ichinose Honami-san from Class 2-B is already quite well-known among many of the first-years. They know her name and face. I’m sure anxious students will flock to her, and she’ll live up to their expectations,” added Horikita.

“Yeah, I think so too,” I replied.

They weren’t going to bother coming up to us, Class 2-D, people they didn’t know at all.

“But even if we can’t duplicate her admirable methods, there are things we can do,” said Horikita.

Apparently, Horikita had gotten some kind of idea from this event. The crux of that idea probably had something to do with how she was constantly looking at the first-years with the OAA app open. She gave no sign of wanting to leave yet, continuing to observe the first-years.

I wasn’t the only one standing beside her, watching, either. A large figure moved by us.

“But, y’know, all of ’em look like total wimps. Every last one of ’em,” gruffed Sudou, standing beside Horikita, sharing what he thought about the first-years.

Sudou had originally planned to head straight for his club activities right after class today. But because Ichinose’s request to hold this meet-and-greet event was accepted, and it was thus suddenly decided that the gym would be in use until five o’clock, he offered to accompany Horikita here. Horikita had flatly turned him down, telling him it wasn’t necessary for him to come, but I guess it must have been fine in the end, since he was going to the gym anyway.

“Don’t glare at them for no reason. There’s nothing to gain by scaring them,” said Horikita.

“I ain’t really glarin’ or anything. This is just the way my face looks. Anyway, is it really okay for us to hang back and chill like this? Won’t the brainy kids get snatched up by Ichinose? What’s the harm in just talkin’ to ’em?” said Sudou impatiently, suggesting to Horikita that they ought to go and talk to the students sooner rather than later.

Even if a student from our grade level that wasn’t in Class B went to make a move on one of the first-years, Ichinose wouldn’t get upset about it. If anything, I was sure she’d welcome that happily.

“What are you gonna do?” I asked Horikita, since I’d been wondering about that myself.

“Do you really think we can outdo Class 2-B in a place like this, when it comes to socializing?” asked Horikita.

Right now, Ichinose seemed to be emphasizing providing relief for the first-years over trying to make sure her own class would win. From the looks of things, not a single one of the students from Class B had left yet, and they seemed to be trying to get to know the first-years better, to deepen their friendships. I bet the first-years had noticed their enthusiasm, too.

“Yeah, I can’t really imagine that we could,” I replied.

If Yousuke or Kushida were here, we could’ve stood a chance at schmoozing. Maybe. But Horikita, Sudou, and I most definitely lacked the ability to hold our own, socially. I was sure Horikita was well aware of that fact when she came here.

Just as the discussion was about to begin in earnest, Horikita took action.

“…Let’s go,” she said.

Instead of participating in the meet-and-greet, we were retreating. Which meant Horikita had had no intention of trying to bring any of the first-years over to our side at this event all along.

“You sure that’s okay, Suzune?” asked Sudou.

“More than half of the students who were invited didn’t come to this meet-and-greet. Those are the students I’m going to negotiate with,” said Horikita.

In other words, she was going to target the first-year students who hadn’t bothered to listen to Ichinose’s offer. At the same time, however, the fact that those students ignored Ichinose’s offer proved it would be difficult to win them over. They might think they could find a partner by themselves, based on their own abilities, without accepting a helping hand. Or perhaps they lacked the courage to come out to this meet-and-greet. They might even already have a strategy in mind. Whatever the case might be, we could assume many of them probably would be a little eccentric, and hard to deal with.

“For the time being, let’s hear your basis for going that route,” I said.

“Two reasons. As far as I can tell, from what I saw just moments earlier, an unexpectedly high percentage of the students who came to the meet-and-greet were people concerned about their academic prowess. What we are looking for right now, rather urgently I might add, are students who have at least a B minus or better in academic ability. Meaning, the students who have enough confidence to do battle without coming to the meet-and-greet,” said Horikita.

I see. If that was the case, I supposed it made a certain amount of sense for us to have left the meet-and-greet.

“Our top priority shouldn’t be to pair two A-rank students with one another. It’s about coaxing students with enough academic ability to cover for the weaker students in our class to come to our side, to make sure that absolutely no one gets expelled,” said Horikita.

However, even if Class 2-B did save a lot of the first-years, there would naturally be a lot of them left over. Moreover, Ichinose was probably going to prioritize saving the less capable students over helping the highly capable ones. It was possible that we could have picked up some of the leftover students from the meet-and-greet—ones who were better students, to an extent. I assumed her second reason had something to do with that.

“Besides, there was a little bit of a bias in the students who attended the meet-and-greet, regardless of academic ability,” said Horikita.

“Bias?”

“The fact that none of the students from Class 1-D attended at all,” said Horikita.

None of them had attended? I see. That certainly was a rather interesting bias.

“It seems like you understand, too,” Horikita said.

“Understand what? What does the fact that none of the kids from Class 1-D showed up mean?” asked Sudou, cutting in.

He cocked his head to the side, not understanding what the significance of their absence was.

“There are forty people in one class. Among those forty are students with poor grades and students who aren’t particularly good at communication. And yet, not a single person from Class 1-D participated. The fact that no one had attended is obviously a reflection of the will of the class,” said Horikita.

It was clear that someone was controlling the entire class, and had instructed them not to participate in the meet-and-greet. You could certainly say that was unusual, considering that it hadn’t even been a few days since the semester started.

“So, you’re sayin’ there’s already a leader in their class, and that person’s kept ’em from going to this meet-and-greet…?” said Sudou.

“If there’s a person we can negotiate with who speaks for the entire class, then it’s no longer necessary for us to try and bargain with people individually,” said Horikita.

In other words, her strategy was for the students in each of our classes, 1-D and 2-D, to cover one another.

“Okay, that’s all well and good. But if we do that, we’re not gonna stand a chance at winnin’ this thing, are we?” Sudou asked.

It wasn’t a bad idea at all, to keep anyone from getting expelled. But it would probably make it impossible for us to beat the other classes in overall scores.

“You’re right. In that sense, I’m not planning to wage war with the other classes this time around,” said Horikita.

“I ain’t exactly in a position to really say much of anythin’ about that, but are you sure that’s what you want?” said Sudou.

“Yes. Without a doubt,” stated Horikita, clearly and definitively.

Although her approach was certainly different, the general idea behind her strategy was similar to Ichinose’s, from the sound of it. The thinking was that you’d be giving up your chance at a valuable opportunity to get Class Points, a special exam.

Class A’s Hashimoto was already leaving the gym, perhaps because he was done snooping around Ichinose’s meet-and-greet event. Horikita followed Hashimoto, proceeding to the gym exit. Sudou and I followed her. But just before I left, I briefly looked back at Ichinose.

Ichinose, not noticing my presence, was talking to a first-year student with a smile on her face. I was sure she wouldn’t hesitate to extend a helping hand, regardless of that student’s academic ability score. Even if it was D or E.

She was fighting to prevent anyone in her class from getting expelled, abandoning the idea of achieving victory in this special exam. It was about the same as what Horikita was trying to do, albeit in a different way. Or was it? Was the essence of their strategies really the same?

“Yo.”

Just as we left the gym, Hashimoto called out to us, as if he had been waiting for us.

“Man, she’s the same as ever, isn’t she? Ichinose, I mean,” he said.

“It seems she’s prioritizing saving her classmates and the first-years, yes,” said Horikita.

“Yeah, for sure. Definitely doesn’t seem like Ichinose’s a threat at the moment. Doesn’t she get what a disadvantage it’ll be for her to take in a bunch of morons? Man, it’s like she’s throwin’ the game,” said Hashimoto exasperatedly.

There was no way he could have realized Horikita was going for pretty much the same thing, probably because he couldn’t even imagine the thought of Horikita giving up on trying to win.

“Maybe it’s because she already knew that about the first-years that she was able to set up a meeting like this in the first place?” said Horikita.

“Ah, yeah, I getcha. That’s true,” said Hashimoto.

“You Class A people… Sakayanagi-san understood without even needing to see the meet-and-greet. The reason she didn’t participate was because she already anticipated what kind of students were going to show up here,” said Horikita.

“Well, maybe,” said Hashimoto.

Even so, she had probably sent Hashimoto in alone as a scout.

“So, how are you planning to get the honors students over to your side?” asked Horikita.

“That’s all up to the princess. I’m just following her orders.”

With that reply, Hashimoto started to walk away, perhaps because he was satisfied with the brief exchange we just had.

“Don’t trust a word that jerkoff Hashimoto says, Suzune.”

“You don’t need to tell me that. Wait, are you familiar with Hashimoto-kun?” asked Horikita.

“Nope, not at all,” said Sudou proudly, arrogantly.

“…I see. Well, Class A has a big advantage simply by being Class A. I suppose it’s only natural that they’ll have some people flocking to them, to a certain extent,” said Horikita.

Having enrolled here, the new students were eventually going to realize that Class A reigned supreme. Even if they didn’t know that fact right now, word would get around quickly.

“Anyway, let’s hurry. Class D students should still be hanging around at school at this hour,” said Horikita, heading towards the first-year classrooms.

We were going to see what things were like for Class 1-D. Apparently, she was seizing the opportunity presented to us while everyone else was focused on the meet-and-greet.

4.1

W E MADE OUR WAY to the floor where the first-year students were—the floor we’d been regularly going to until just last month. There didn’t seem to be many students around, considering that quite a few had gone over to the gym. We looked around and saw several students, from Class A through Class C. Even though we didn’t actually call out to them, when they spotted us and recognized us as upperclassmen, they looked away, as if it were awkward or uncomfortable.

I supposed there was no way we’d be welcomed with open arms all that easily, after suddenly setting foot on the first-years’ floor. There were a few students who didn’t seem to mind us, but most of them didn’t exactly like the uncomfortable awkwardness of having us there. That would probably be the case tomorrow, and every day thereafter, too.

I was sure that some students, trying to find a partner as soon as possible, would approach first-years at all times of the day, both mornings and afternoons. But that was a dangerous gamble that might end up backfiring. Even so, there were students chatting and laughing happily in the first-year classrooms into which we peeked. Maybe they felt like there was no need to panic about this special exam. Or perhaps they didn’t see it as that big a deal yet.

“Well, it seems like a lot of the students who had stayed behind aren’t too worried, after all,” said Horikita.

“Well, that’s nice. And here I’m freakin’ out and all,” gruffed Sudou.

The first-year students would only have their Private Point payouts suspended for three months if they scored five hundred points or less on the exam. That was still definitely a huge loss, of course, but since the initial deposit into their accounts should have been made right after the entrance ceremony, they probably felt no sense of impending danger.

Just as we were finishing our inspection of Class 1-C, Horikita heard a familiar voice call out to her.

“ Ku ku . You got here pretty late, Suzune.”

The owner of that voice was none other than Ryuuen Kakeru, from Class 2-C, staring at us fearlessly. Just up ahead, we could see the classroom for Class 1-D. It looked like Ryuuen had just stepped out of that room.

“Are you here scouting out first-year students too, Ryuuen-kun? I don’t recall seeing you at the meet-and-greet,” said Horikita.

“It was just a buncha moronic half-wits who got together at the gym, right? I didn’t even need to go see it to know that ,” said Ryuuen.

He had come here looking for students who didn’t go to the meet-and-greet, just like Horikita had been planning to do. Judging from the way he was talking, it was clear he was after the top-level first-year students. There had been only about a slight twenty- or thirty-minute difference in our timing, but…

With that much time, it was possible that he had already successfully scouted a number of students. We would be able to check whether each student had settled on a partner at eight o’clock the next morning.

“Relax. Still haven’t settled on anybody yet,” said Ryuuen.

Not that the other two people with me today would believe him so easily, though. That is, until the app actually refreshed, and it showed what partnerships had been finalized or not for Class 2-C.

“You look like you don’t believe me,” sneered Ryuuen.

“Well, I’m taking everything you say with a grain of salt, at the very least,” replied Horikita.

“Huh, okay. Looks like you’ve gotten pretty wary of me, huh?”

“Oh? I can’t recall ever once not being wary of you before though. Hm?”

“ Kukuku ! Well, yeah, guess you’ve got a point there,” said Ryuuen.

Sudou glared at Ryuuen, perhaps not liking the mocking way he spoke to Horikita. A normal person would have shrunk back in fear from that glare alone, but such a direct attack wouldn’t work on Ryuuen.

“Looks like you’ve hired yourself a bodyguard. But you chose a dumb one, lady,” sneered Ryuuen.

“What’d you say?” huffed Sudou.

He looked ready to fly off the handle, but Horikita kept him in line with a gentle wave of her hand.

“Oh, do you need brains to be a bodyguard? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, hm?” said Horikita.

She didn’t avert her eyes from Ryuuen as she delivered that comeback, still holding her hand out to keep Sudou back.

“Are you planning on scaring the first-years? I’m afraid that taking that kind of attitude with them is going to backfire on you,” said Horikita.

They would certainly shrink back if they saw Ryuuen strutting about like he was the cock of the walk.

“I figured if I threatened ’em a little, they’d immediately agree to cooperate,” said Ryuuen.

Horikita had been going tit-for-tat with Ryuuen so far, dishing back what Ryuuen was giving her. But Ryuuen did the opposite this time, actually affirming what she had just suggested.

“…You’re kidding, right? Do you really think that’s an acceptable way of doing things?” asked Horikita.

“Acceptable or not, who friggin’ cares. What’s the problem if someone feels a little threatened? We were told that we couldn’t force someone to get a lower score or anythin’, but there wasn’t anythin’ about not using threats to find a partner in the rules,” said Ryuuen.

“That’s because it should go without saying that it’s not okay, without it needing to be outlined in the rules. If there is a problem, you’ll be in trouble,” said Horikita.

“Then show me where the problem is. I ain’t gonna do somethin’ dumb enough that it’d get traced back to me, anyway,” said Ryuuen.

He was as bullish and cocksure as ever. Not only was he saying it was extremely likely that he’d make good on his threats, but he also stated, quite definitively, that the truth of the matter would never get out. Whether what he was saying was truth or falsehood, Horikita, too, must have realized once again that Ryuuen would always opt to rule with the iron hand of a military dictator.

“Well, in that case, do whatever you like. But if any evidence should present itself, I will raise the issue, without question. Or mercy,” said Horikita.

Her warning was probably meant to serve as a deterrent, but it didn’t seem to resonate with Ryuuen.

“So? You think you can win anybody over to your class?” sneered Ryuuen.

Horikita must have determined that there was no need for her to answer, because she kept her mouth shut.

“You figured somethin’ out when you were snoopin’ around the meet-and-greet, huh? And then you hurried on over here to see who was left. That it?” said Ryuuen.

“The same as you then, perhaps?”

“ Ku ku . Yeah, maybe.”

Ryuuen continued speaking to Horikita after saying that, as if all he wanted was to keep things interesting.

“In that case, I’ll tell ya somethin’ good, since we’re on the same wavelength. This year’s batch of fresh meat are all real calm, even though they only just started here. Which means there’s a real good chance that someone from the school is telling these new kids how things work, to a certain extent,” said Ryuuen.

If that was true, it was quite an unexpected bit of intel. Back in April, we’d no idea what was going on, and everyone just messed around as much as they wanted as a result. Of course, the students from Class A and Class B were more composed, but that could probably be attributed to the significant difference between our backgrounds.

Also, what Ryuuen was talking about wasn’t just a specific class. He was referring to the entire grade level . Maybe this was a measure that had been taken because they had to partner up with second-year students right at the start of school? Or did the school have other intentions, perhaps?

“Isn’t it possible that this year’s batch of new students are just especially quick-witted, and we were just exceptionally slow?” replied Horikita.

“There’s signs that some of ’em are already coming together, as a class, right at this stage. That’s way too early.”

Even if they’d immediately started trying to come together as a class when the special exam was announced, they wouldn’t have succeeded already. Ryuuen was saying they wouldn’t have come together like this, now, unless they started the process at an early stage. Right after they entered the school.

“…What kind of cowardly trick are you trying to pull by telling me this?” asked Horikita.

“Nothin’, no trick. You can’t just pulverize your opponents in this special exam. Nothin’ like that. But if you’re gonna win overall, you’re probably gonna have to pull several strings,” said Ryuuen.

It wasn’t going to be easy to get students from the other classes expelled in this special exam. The sense of anonymity in it, of wondering who was going to be partnered with who, was fairly significant. It was going to be quite difficult to ascertain exactly who people were partnered with on the app, unless people were going around making partnerships known publicly or you were very good at gathering information. Even if you were able to get classmates who didn’t do so well academically to partner with students from rival classes, or even if you were to specifically designate someone for that purpose, it would be almost impossible to get that student to purposefully cut corners on the test.

If you got a low score—one out of keeping with the level of academic ability you were supposed to have—it would clearly be intentional, and then you’d get expelled regardless of what grade level you were in. In the end, the difference between victory and defeat came down to two things: the abilities of the students in your own class, and the abilities of the first-year students. In terms of strategy, what you could do was win as many academically skilled first-years over to your class as possible.

It wasn’t going to be easy for Class C to come out on top in this exam, considering their low levels of overall ability. There was no way they could hope to compete with Class A financially, and the academic skills of the two classes were on entirely different levels. No matter how much money they threw at the first-years to try and poach them, the results weren’t going to be pretty. In that case, they should abandon the idea of trying to win first place overall and aim instead for the individual competition, with rewards given to the top thirty percent.

Of course, Horikita didn’t make any mention of that. Because it would be a problem for us if Class A and Class C weren’t trying to duke it out with each other for overall points. Rather than let Class A easily snatch the top spot, I was hoping A and C would fight it out on a grand scale, so they’d wear each other down, if only a little.

“Try your best to keep up,” chided Ryuuen.

“I suppose I could say the same to you. Your concerns are completely unnecessary,” said Horikita.

“ Ku ku . Well, my bad.”

Then Ryuuen immediately left, vacating the first-year students’ floor. He had been here too short a time to have finished what needed doing.

“The first-years might resist us much more strongly than I thought they would,” said Horikita.

If they were aware of the fact that they were basically locked in a desperate struggle to the death with the other classes at this school, then yes, I supposed it was only natural they’d be hesitant to negotiate with us.

“In that case, shouldn’t we try and negotiate with ’em at least a little, as soon as we can?” said Sudou.

“Yes… Of course we should. But…”

Horikita directed her gaze towards the end of the hall. She was looking at where the classroom for Class 1-D was.

“Let’s get goin’,” said Sudou.

“I don’t think it’s going to be that simple,” said Horikita.

Apparently, Horikita had noticed it too while she was talking with Ryuuen. The entire time they talked, from when Ryuuen strolled out of the classroom to when he left, not a single student had been seen leaving the classroom. And we didn’t hear a single sound as we approached the room, either.

When we eventually reached the door to the classroom and opened it, our suspicions were confirmed.

“D-dude, what the hell’s goin’ on?!” yelled Sudou in a panic, as he scanned the inside of the classroom from end to end.

“Negotiating with Class 1-D might be much, much more difficult than I expected,” said Horikita.

The classroom was completely empty. There wasn’t a single person in sight. The forty students, who hadn’t shown up to the meet-and-greet either, seemed to have suddenly disappeared without a trace.

“This class might be more trouble than I had thought,” she added.

However, it wasn’t like we could just sit here and wallow in our anxiety. We needed to take action before the other classes really started making their moves in earnest. The competition was starting tomorrow. Horikita’s battle was going to begin the moment that she contacted Class 1-D. As for me, I was going to head back to my dorm and memorize all the names and faces of the new students in the OAA app. Horikita had her battle to fight, and I had mine.

And as it turned out, on the day the special exam was announced, a total of twenty-two partnerships had been finalized.

4.2

T HE SITUATION TOOK A SUDDEN , unexpected turn near the end of our lunch break on the next day. Something happened after we had finished eating our lunches, while we sat in our classroom, casually waiting for our afternoon classes to begin.

“H-hey! Dudes! Some first-years are headed this way!” shouted one of my classmates, Miyamoto.

This special exam depended on first- and second-year students working together. You’d think this wouldn’t be such a surprising development, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.

“Wow, they must be awfully brave to come up to the upperclassmen’s floor,” said Yousuke, while I mulled things over in my head. “I mean, if we decided to head up to the third-year’s floor, we’d have to be very careful not to make a fuss.”

“Yeah, that’s true…”

It would be a different story if you had a lot of close friendships with your senpai, but for this year’s batch of new students, that wasn’t the case. Many of them must have felt like they were venturing into enemy territory. I supposed that in that sense, some of them showing up like this might actually be an event that merited surprise.

Yousuke said he was going to go check it out, so I followed him, heading out into the hallway. Horikita and Sudou followed right after us.

The first thing that caught my eye was a guy with a particularly large build. There were several reasons why he stood out, one of which was that he seemed to be around Sudou’s height. But, more than that, it was the strong impression he made as he walked confidently down the center of the hall on our floor. The other second-year students in the hall avoided him, walking at the edges of the hallway. Which seemed like the opposite of what you’d normally expect.

Following a little way behind this student was a girl. Horikita, realizing that they weren’t simply here looking for partners, stepped out in front of the male student to block his path. Sudou stuck close to her.

When Horikita and Sudou came face-to-face with these new students, the first-year student made eye contact with me for some reason, even though I was watching from some distance away. Shortly afterward, he looked away from me and shifted his gaze to Horikita. I pulled up the data I had learned from the OAA yesterday in my memory. It seemed Horikita was about to make rather unexpected contact with that class.

“Who’s this chick?” asked the guy.

“Please wait a moment… I’ve found it,” said the girl.

After fiddling with her phone for a short while, she showed him her screen.

“Class 2-D. Horikita Suzune. Academic ability A-, huh?” said the guy, gruffly.

The girl spoke in a rather polite tone of voice, unlike the guy, which made them seem like quite the odd combination. They then directed their gazes over at Sudou, who was standing beside Horikita. And just like before, the girl showed the guy her phone screen.

“Sudou Ken… Heh.” After looking at Sudou’s data, the guy let out a mocking snort.

“Hello, my name is Nanase, from Class 1-D. He’s from the same class. This is—”

“Housen,” he said, interrupting her.

They both gave us their last names. Just for reference, the large guy’s full name was Housen Kazuomi and the girl’s was Nanase Tsubasa. They were both genuine Class 1-D students, just as they had said they were. Students from the very same that we’d tried to meet with yesterday, but couldn’t.

Although their sudden arrival here was rather unexpected, it was both a lucky break and a stroke of ill fortune for Horikita. That was because we couldn’t exactly start negotiating with Class 1-D out in the open, while under the watchful eyes of the other classes.

“For a couple of new students, you’ve done something quite brave. I admire your pluck,” said Horikita.

“Huh? What, you admire our pluck? Don’t act so high and mighty, woman,” snapped Housen.

“She ain’t bein’ high and mighty, dude. Don’t get all full of yourself, kid,” shouted Sudou.

Housen had snapped at Horikita, causing Sudou to snap back at him in turn. Even though they were about the same height, Housen had a slightly bigger build, making Sudou look a bit smaller in comparison.

“Dude, your score’s an E+. Guess you’re just as much of a moron as you look,” said Housen.

“What was that?!” shouted Sudou.

“Well, whatever, this is fine. Looks like this place is crawling with Class D rejects anyway. Works for me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Horikita.

“As I said, you Class D punks are all just a bunch of rejects, leftovers. You can’t even form pairs unless we pick you. So I figured, hey, I’ll lend you incompetent, braindead morons a hand. You get what I’m sayin’?” said Housen.

It was almost as if he was testing Horikita.

“Meaning you want us to team up with you. And you’re making your request with a rather condescending attitude,” she replied.

“Uh, yeah? I mean, you’re the ones who should be beggin’ us to team up with you. Hell, I even dragged myself all the way out here,” Housen snapped back at Horikita, basically implying we weren’t in remotely the same position. “Come on. Go ahead and beg. Say, ‘Please, please team up with us,’ and start bowin’.”

Horikita, still holding Sudou back to keep him from losing his temper, argued back at him, her words growing in intensity despite the difference in size between her and Housen. “You seem to be misunderstanding something. Our positions are equal.”

“Equal? Your idiot friend over there oughta be the only one spewing bullshit like that,” said Housen.

“You’re in Class D, just like us. There’s no difference between us,” said Horikita.

“You don’t get it. There are plenty of things we can do to you if we feel like it. Get it? I mean, you don’t want trouble, right? Then you should know your place and start beggin’.”

Apparently, this Housen person had already noticed that the first-years had a secret weapon they could use to their advantage.

“And just what are these things you could do to us?” asked Horikita. She likely already knew the answer, but deliberately asked anyway, to make Housen come out and say it.

“Come on, you know, dontcha? What I’m sayin’ is that we can get bad test scores, on purpose,” said Housen.

When Horikita heard him say that, she bit her lip with some force.

“Huh?! Enough already, you little first-year punk! You mess up the test, and you’ll get kicked outta school!” shouted Sudou.

“Stop. Don’t be so quick to lose your cool, Sudou-kun. That’s a bad habit of yours,” said Horikita.

“But…”

I could understand why Sudou would want to vent his anger after hearing Housen talk to Horikita like that. However, what Housen was saying wasn’t a lie.

“Yeah, it’s true that if you mess up on the test on purpose, you get expelled. But the penalty for not bein’ able to find a partner before time’s up is different. That only applies to you guys, right?” said Housen.

The rules stated that if you ran out of time before you found a partner, one would be randomly assigned to you. On top of that, if you ran out of time, it would result in a 5 percent penalty taken off your overall score. And the second-year students, who could face expulsion, would take more damage from that penalty.

“I-is that really true?!” shouted Sudou, incredulous.

He shot Horikita a pleading look, seeking confirmation on whether what Housen said was true. The only answer she could possibly give him was ‘yes.’

“Wouldn’t you be putting a noose around your own neck by doing that, though? Do you really intend on taking a loss immediately after you’ve started school?” asked Horikita.

If you got hit with a penalty, your chances of getting five hundred and one points or more on the test would naturally plummet.

“Well, compared to you guys, can’t say we’d get hurt all that bad. Ain’t that right?” sneered Housen. He looked to the girl standing behind him, Nanase, for confirmation.

“Yes, that’s correct. We wouldn’t have any Private Points deposited into our account for three months, but that would still only be a maximum of two hundred forty thousand points. I don’t think it would be a fatal setback,” replied Nanase.

“Get the picture now, Horikita - senpai?”

Housen regarded Horikita as though he were superior to her, even though she was his senior. Sudou, seeing him treat her that way, must have lost his patience. He stood in front of Horikita now, exuding intimidation, though he still wasn’t throwing any punches.

“You wanna go?” said Housen, without any hesitation whatsoever.

“Don’t get too full of yourself, punk,” huffed Sudou.

“Don’t lose your cool, Sudou-kun. You do understand how things work at this school, don’t you?” said Horikita.

It wasn’t unreasonable for the new students not to know this, but the hallways were supervised quite closely by school officials. The surveillance cameras were constantly monitoring us, so if there was a problem, the school officials could go dig up the footage.

“I know…” said Sudou.

After having been repeatedly admonished by Horikita, Sudou backed off, though he looked irritated. It was certainly a problem that he got riled up so easily, but I supposed the fact that all it took was a word from Horikita to keep him in check was a relief.

Just then, as Sudou’s attention was focused on Horikita, Housen thrust his large hand forward against Sudou’s chest and shoved him.

“Wha-?!”

In the next instant, Sudou lost his balance, falling backward, landing on his hands.

“Ha, only thing big about you is your height, loser. Just a little tap was all it took?” sneered Housen.

What Housen just did was so reckless that even the other second-year students watching the situation couldn’t hide their unease. Considering how dramatic the action had been, it wouldn’t have been surprising for it to be seen as an act of violence. If you understood how difficult and risky it was to try and do something violent in this school, you couldn’t do it.

We’d thought this year’s batch of new students were more familiar with how things worked at this school than students from previous years. If the information we had gotten from Ryuuen the other day was true, then I had to say what Housen had just done was quite reckless.

Maybe they actually didn’t understand the school as well as we thought they did? No, it didn’t seem like that was the case. If so, then…

“Asshole!”

Sudou, having regained his composure and realized what had just been done to him, looked ready to let all his pent-up anger explode at once. But right before that happened, another guy, who had been watching the situation from afar, jumped in.

“Dude, the hell are you doin’?!”

It was Ishizaki Daiichi from Class 2-C. He was quick to lose his temper and could be easily categorized as a delinquent, but he was also a compassionate person. It seemed like he’d run out of patience after seeing Sudou, someone from his grade level, being treated with such cruelty.

“Man, these losers just keep poppin’ up outta nowhere, one after another. Like cockroaches,” said Housen with a smirk, as if he found the situation amusing.

The girl who had introduced herself earlier as Nanase moved to rein him back in.

“Housen-kun, I thought we came here to have a discussion? If we came here just so you could get violent, then I’ll be leaving,” said Nanase.

“Violent? All I did was touch the guy, like I was pettin’ a cat or somethin’. Well, sorry, my bad, Sudou ,” said Housen, purposefully addressing Sudou without an honorific, as if he were spitting on him.

“Hey, man, you’re goin’ too far! Knock that crap off!” shouted Ishizaki, reaching out to grab Housen by his collar.

The moment that Housen saw Ishizaki’s arm reaching for him, though, the corners of his mouth curved up slightly into a smirk.

“Better think twice, Ishizaki, unless you wanna die,” someone warned.

Ishizaki stopped just before he took hold of Housen’s collar. The warning had come from none other than Ryuuen, who had also been standing by, watching.

“Wh-why’d you stop me?!” huffed Ishizaki. He seemed visibly confused by the fact that Ryuuen had stopped him.

Ibuki, a classmate of theirs, was also surprised by what Ryuuen had just done. “What do you think you’re doing? By stopping him, I mean?” she asked.

Ryuuen generally welcomed fights. He was the furthest possible thing from a person who hated trouble. He didn’t care if there were security cameras around or not; when he wanted to throw down, he did so without hesitation. Which was precisely why it was so surprising to see him stop a fight from happening.

Ryuuen ordered Ishizaki back and then approached Housen himself.

“So, what, you’re supposed to be my opponent now? Dude, you look weak compared to that moron Sudou over there,” said Housen mockingly, after getting a look at Ryuuen.

Ryuuen certainly wasn’t a big and brawny guy. I supposed that was why Housen considered him weak.

“I know you pretty well, yeah. I remember hearin’ that this Housen dude was a bit of a celebrity in my hometown. I never imagined he’d look like such a total braindead idiot, though,” replied Ryuuen.

Housen repeatedly hurled insults at Sudou over and over, calling him stupid, so Ryuuen threw the same insult right back in his face. Something that was honestly quite typical of Ryuuen. Normally, Ryuuen was an enemy to every class that wasn’t his own, but it was heartening to see him stand up to Housen like this. In fact, Sudou had successfully managed to bottle up his anger thanks to the change in atmosphere.

“Y-you know this dude, Ryuuen-san?” asked Ishizaki.

“Wait. Ryuuen, you say?”

When Housen heard Ryuuen’s name, the look on his face changed. And then his wide mouth cracked open into an amused smile.

“Hey now, ain’t this somethin’? This has gotta be fate. Honestly, I’ve heard your name get thrown around so much that it’s been pissin’ me off, Ryuuen,” said Housen.

“Wow, so you’ve got the brain cells to actually remember someone’s name?” replied Ryuuen.

Apparently, these two had known about each other for some time now. It seemed like Housen, from Class 1-D, came from somewhere close to Ryuuen’s hometown.

That said, looking at the relationship between Ryuuen and Ishizaki and Ibuki, it seemed safe to say that Ryuuen had made a full comeback. He had temporarily stepped down from his position, but he was beginning to take command of his class once again.

“Gotta say though, for the fabled Ryuuen to look all scrawny and pitiful… Damn, that’s a shame,” said Housen.

“Meanwhile you look like just as much of a musclebound freak as I imagined,” sneered Ryuuen.

“Y’know, I swung around your old hangouts a couple of times because I was plannin’ to beat the everlovin’ shit out of you. But I guess the reason I never ran into you was because you were terrified of me and hid, huh? What, you’ve been runnin’ away and making your little soldiers do all the work? Is that it?” said Housen.

“ Ku ku . I’d say it’s more like lady luck saved your ass, Housen. If you had met me back then, you certainly wouldn’t be acting like such a bigshot right now. I guess you really lucked out, ’cause you can say you haven’t lost to me yet,” said Ryuuen.

“Actually, I think you just ran with your tail between your legs. If you’re tryin’ to tell me that’s not how it is, then how about we settle things, right here and now?”

Housen formed his giant hand into a fist, looking confident. If he knew who Ryuuen was in junior high, the impression he had of Ryuuen shouldn’t be all that different from the impression we had of Ryuuen. Perhaps he didn’t see Ryuuen as someone that you want as an enemy?

“Yeah, hard pass. I ain’t plannin’ on fighting a gorilla like you when there’s nothing in it for me,” said Ryuuen.

Even though Housen was fixing for a fight, Ryuuen turned his offer down. Of course, that was because there was no way that he could actually fight in a place like this, but… I was sure Ishizaki and Ibuki had thought Ryuuen would accept the offer, even if that meant they had to take the fight elsewhere.

“Wait, is this dude all that dangerous? I mean, sure, he’s bigger than Sudou and all, but…” said Ishizaki.

“Who can say?” Ryuuen seemed to have no intention of giving a straight answer to that question. Then he issued an order to his subordinates, a smirk on his face. “Let’s go.”

“Are you really okay with letting a first-year disrespect you like this?” asked Ibuki.

She was aware of the fact that it was in Ryuuen’s nature to throw down against anyone, no matter who it was. That was why she couldn’t help but ask him that question.

“Heh. We can settle things whenever. What’s the rush?” replied Ryuuen, quietly and calmly.

While it would have been fine had things ended right there, Housen started walking forward, closing the distance between himself and Ryuuen.

“Is that chick one of your little soldiers too?” asked Housen, after having watched them bicker earlier.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that,” said Ryuuen.

“Huh? What are you talking about? Don’t go and act like you’re the boss of me,” snapped Ibuki.

“So you even stoop to using chicks as soldiers, huh, Ryuuen?” asked Housen.

“Could say the same to you, buddy. You’re the one who brought that cute little thing over there, right?” said Ryuuen.

Just like how Ryuuen was accompanied by Ibuki, Housen had Nanase standing beside him.

“She ain’t mine. Well, whatever, I couldn’t care less about that. Let’s have some fun, Ryuuen,” said Housen.

“Already told ya. Hard pass.”

No matter how many times Housen tried to provoke Ryuuen into fighting, Ryuuen wouldn’t budge. As if to signal his disinterest, Ryuuen turned his back on Housen, showing that he’d made his mind up about withdrawing.

“Huh, that so? In that case…”

Housen must have decided Ryuuen’s failure to take the bait was no fun, because he suddenly extended his arm in a smooth, casual movement. He reached out for Ibuki. She tried to brush him off.

However…

Just as she tried to brush him off, he quickly accelerated the force behind the movement, grabbing Ibuki by the neck and raising her up into the air.

“Ngh?!”

Ibuki hurriedly tried to free herself from his grip, as if a distress signal were being transmitted from her brain to the rest of her body in that instant. However, Housen merely flashed an audacious grin, not giving an inch, as if his arms were made of steel.

Ryuuen turned back around and saw Ibuki being choked out by Housen. She tried to break free of his grip, deftly using her arms and legs, but Housen still didn’t budge.

“Hah. Just try and slip outta that. Or, all of you watchin’ can jump in and get a piece of me too,” said Housen.

Judging by the look on Housen’s face, it wasn’t that he was fearless—but rather, that he possessed a kind of absolute confidence. However, I was certain this wasn’t the kind of situation where I could step into the ring myself. If I made a scene right here and now, the school would naturally get wind of it and inevitably show up to put a stop to the situation.

The only one who wasn’t tied down by such concerns—Ryuuen—was the one who made a move, though he looked rather exasperated about it. Probably moving to save Ibuki rather than strike a blow against Housen, he moved forward, slipping into the space between Ibuki and Housen, near his chest. However, Housen still kept his grip tight on Ibuki’s neck. And even in this situation, where his movement was limited, he continued to sidestep Ryuuen’s repeated kicks.

“Asshole!” shouted Ishizaki.

Ishizaki, who had been told to stand down before, now jumped into the fray. A commotion was starting to erupt, the likes of which you could never imagine happening in the hallways here at school.

“Yeah, yeah! Man, am I glad I came all the way to this school,” said Housen.

A genuine, no-holds-barred fight might actually start any second now. Amid all this, Nanase, who had been watching the situation from the onset, opened her mouth to speak.

“Please stop, Housen-kun.”

Despite the handicap of still having Ibuki in his grasp, Housen looked ready to start brawling with Ryuuen and Ishizaki as they barreled down on him. But he stopped moving after his classmate Nanase called out to him.

“What’d you just say?” he asked.

Rather than heed her warning, he looked irritated by the fact that she had spoken up and butted in.

“The upperclassmen have all been concerned about the fact that there are surveillance cameras around here for a while now. Judging from the situation, I’ve determined there’s nothing to be gained by getting violent here,” said Nanase.

“Yeah, I know . I know already, I was just messin’ around with ’em,” said Housen, before adding that he knew all along that we second-years were tied down because of the surveillance cameras.

If that was the case, everything Housen had just done after showing up here really was quite puzzling.

He ignored Nanase’s warning, looking as though he was about to resume fighting, so she spoke up once more, in a firmer tone than before.

“If you do understand, then that’s all the more reason you should stop. If you’re going to try to waste more time here, then I have an idea of my own. I’m considering bringing that up and telling everyone here about it,” said Nanase.

After Housen heard her mention that , whatever abstract idea it was supposed to represent, he stopped moving once again. Then, with a look of total boredom on his face, he let go of Ibuki and dropped her to the floor, where she coughed and hacked.

“Hey, not bad, Nanase. But just know that if you don’t live up to my expectations, I won’t show you any mercy. Even if you’re a girl. Got it?” said Housen.

“When that time comes, I’ll take whatever comes my way,” said Nanase.

Even though Housen had just threatened her, Nanase didn’t sound upset. She seemed so calm that it was like it didn’t matter one bit to her that she was currently standing on the second-years’ floor.

Even so, this Housen guy was certainly no pushover. There was no shortage of people in my grade level who could boast of their fighting prowess. Among the guys, that included Ryuuen, Sudou, and Albert. Even though Housen was a first-year, just this brief glimpse of him in action told me he was quite capable himself. He probably wouldn’t be the kind of opponent I could subdue all that easily, if I were to face off against him. And because I had only gotten a glimpse of him in action, I couldn’t predict how things would go if he really went all out. Ryuuen had probably tried to stop Ishizaki from casually throwing down against Housen because he determined that engaging in a simple fistfight would put them at a disadvantage.

This was one hell of a new student we were dealing with.

“All right, I’ll stop. My business is all taken care of. Let’s go, Nanase,” said Housen.

“That is a wise choice,” replied Nanase.

Housen, seemingly satisfied with everything else except for the lack of a fight, shot one last look at Ryuuen.

“If you get down on your knees for me, I don’t mind pairin’ up with ya. Whaddya say, Ryuuen-paisen?”

“Sorry, dude, but I only work with human beings. Can’t say I got any plans of teamin’ up with a wild gorilla.”

“Oh, well, that’s too bad,” said Housen.

However, this whole ordeal wasn’t over yet. Aside from Housen and Nanase, there was one other first-year present who had been observing the entire situation. Perhaps Housen was upset with this other student, because he turned his attention to him at the end.

“Hey, you just gonna hide and watch, punk?” sneered Housen.

“Do you know the proverb ‘a wide man keeps away from danger’?” replied the student, fending off Housen’s glare with an eloquent response. “Making friendly conversation is fine, but it wouldn’t be beneficial for you to cause a ruckus here, Housen-kun. At any rate, I think you ought to withdraw for the time being. Am I wrong?”

At the same time, the boy gave Housen what could be interpreted as friendly advice, an adult showed, too.

“What are you doing, Housen?” he asked.

This lone man, clad in a suit, seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, as if to put a stop to all this tumultuous situation. Many of the second-years who had been standing by and watching the situation unfold had fled, returning to their own classrooms.

“Housen, I understand you’re restless. But I’m also quite sure the school rules have been drilled so thoroughly into your head by now that it feels ready to explode,” said the adult.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” said Housen.

“If you do understand, then hurry up and disperse. No fighting in the hallways.”

“That was hardly even a real fight, though,” snorted Housen.

With a scornful chuckle, he thrust his hands into his pockets, and then turned around, making an unexpectedly easy decision to retreat. He then ordered Nanase to retreat as well.

“Well, see you later, Horikita.”

Housen purposefully dropped Horikita’s name before he left… Well, no. It might be more accurate to say he was addressing the whole of Class 2-D.

“We apologize for the disturbance,” said Nanase, with a bow of her head.

With that apology, the situation seemed to have been more or less successfully contained. But, when Nanase lifted her head back up, she looked me right in the eyes right as she was leaving. It was the same look she’d given me when she first arrived on this floor. A probing look, almost as if she wanted to know something.

However, as soon as I noticed her looking at me, she immediately averted her eyes, and chased after Housen.

“I must apologize to you all. I’m terribly sorry. My students have caused you quite a bit of trouble,” the teacher apologized to Horikita as she stood by watching everything that happened.

“No, it’s all right…” she replied.

“Since we’re here, please allow me to briefly introduce myself. I am Shiba Katsunori and I will be overseeing Class 1-D. I’ve only just accepted a position here at this school. I look forward to getting to know you all,” said the teacher.

After giving us that brief self-introduction, Shiba-sensei left, following at Housen. Then, almost as if they were taking turns, the level-headed boy from earlier came up and bowed his head to us.

“It would seem that my classmate Housen-kun has caused a great deal of trouble for you, our seniors. On behalf of the first-year students, I’d like to offer my humble apologies,” said the boy.

Unlike Housen, he seemed to be quite a well-spoken student.

“We first-year students still don’t understand these special exams very well. I apologize for the inconvenience this may cause you, but we would humbly appreciate any help. Thank you,” said the student.

After he had finished giving us his apologies and general salutations, the student, who was apparently named Yagami, looked as though he was about to leave himself. But then he seemed to notice something—a group of four girls from Class D who’d just returned from lunch. Matsushita, Kushida, Satou, and Mii-chan.

Yagami looked at one member of the group, Kushida, with surprise on his face.

“It seems there’s been quite a fuss. What happened, Horikita-san?” Though Kushida was clearly aware of Yagami’s presence in turn, she asked Horikita about what was going on, sounding quite curious.

“Nothing that you all need to worry about,” said Horikita.

“Oh, really?”

After Horikita told them that it was nothing, Kushida and the other three girls started to head back towards the classroom.

“Um, pardon me, but…you wouldn’t happen to be Kushida-senpai, by any chance, would you?” asked Yagami.

“Hm?” replied Kushida, turning around to look at who’d addressed her.

If he knew Kushida’s name, could he be an acquaintance of hers? Or so I thought, but…

“Um, you are?” said Kushida.

She gave him a puzzled look. There was no sign that she was familiar with him.

“It’s me. Do you not recognize me? Well, I suppose that’s only natural that you wouldn’t. It’s Yagami Takuya,” he replied.

Kushida thought on it for a while after hearing his name, but then seemed to suddenly remember. “Yagami… Ah! Wait! You’re that Yagami-kun?!”

“Yes, I am most certainly that Yagami. It’s been quite a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Wow, so you came to this school too, Yagami-kun. What an incredible coincidence!”

“I never imagined I’d meet you again here, Kushida-senpai.”

“You know each other?” asked Satou, curiously.

Kushida nodded. “Yes. But we hardly ever actually talked before. Anyway, his name is Yagami Takuya-kun. He always seemed incredibly smart. but since we were in different grades, we never said much more than hello to each other.”

“So, do you know him too?” I asked, whispering in Horikita’s ear to get confirmation.

“Nope, I don’t know him at all,” she replied immediately.

“Well, you don’t seem very good at remembering the faces of your classmates, though.”

“I won’t deny that. I didn’t exactly have time to pay attention to people I wasn’t interested in,” said Horikita.

Apparently, Horikita didn’t recognize…no, it was more like he didn’t register in her mind at all. I supposed if you were the kind of person who treated your classmates that way, there was no way you’d remember students younger than you.

Well, even if Kushida didn’t remember this boy, he’d probably never been able to forget her. It just went to show how captivating she was.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am. To be able to go to the same school as the revered Kushida-senpai…” said Yagami.

“Oh, no, that’s a bit much, I’m nothing special…” she replied humbly.

However, if Yagami really had attended the same junior high as Kushida, then a few concerns came to mind.

“Does this Yagami kid know about you know what ?” I whispered to Horikita.

I was referring to Kushida’s past, of course. In junior high, Kushida had caused her own class to turn on itself and fall apart. As a result, she considered Horikita—who’d attended the same school back then and knew the truth about what happened—a bitter enemy. Kushida wanted to get rid of Horikita, considering it too dangerous for someone to know what she’d done to her class.

If Yagami had attended the same junior high, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he knew about what happened, too, but…

“It wouldn’t be strange if he did. That being said, there’s no guarantee that he does,” said Horikita.

In that case, Yagami being here certainly wasn’t very comforting for Kushida. Since there were students in our grade level who’d attended the same schools before, I supposed it wasn’t out of the question for students’ former juniors to enroll, either.

“I realize this is quite sudden, but I must say I would have neither complaints nor concerns if I were able to team up with someone like you, Kushida-senpai. Would you be willing to partner with me?” asked Yagami.

Even though he and Kushida had only just been reunited, he asked to become partners, extending his hand with a friendly smile on his face. Was this all to show that he knew nothing about her past? Or that even if he did know, it didn’t matter?

“Are you really okay with partnering with me, though? I mean, Yagami-kun, perhaps it would be better if you partnered with someone more on your level academically?” said Kushida.

Yagami Takuya had an extremely high academic ability rating of A. Nothing to scoff at. No wonder Kushida was being so humble. Horikita, who had her phone out, looked up his information in the OAA app while she stood next to me, and confirmed that he was high-ranked.

“I don’t know my way around here at all. So, I’d like to partner with someone I trust,” said Yagami.

The app could give you an idea of a person’s academic ability, but not their nature. He must have decided it would be better to team up with an acquaintance who he could be sure would produce solid results.

“Um, well, could you give me some time to think it over…?” Perhaps because she was wary of Yagami, or for some other reason, Kushida put his offer on hold for the time being.

“Of course, that would be perfectly fine. I will hold off on partnering up with anyone else for a while, and await your reply, Kushida-senpai.” Yagami agreed to put the offer on hold, indicating he was fine to wait. Considering that his academic ability was A-rank, there was no need for him to rush out and find a partner.

“Damn, that must be nice. If it were me, I would’ve partnered up without a second thought…” Sudou seemed jealous of Kushida’s ability to put an offer on hold. That made sense, considering his ranking was only E+.

“In that case, you should work harder,” said Horikita.

“Yeah… I’ll definitely improve my scores,” he answered.

It wasn’t a mean-spirited comment. Sudou was envious because he had a desire to improve himself.

I distanced myself from Horikita and the others for a moment because I saw Haruka beckoning me to come over. The rest of Ayanokouji Group all stood a short distance away: Akito, Keisei, and Airi.

“H-he was super scary, wasn’t he?”

The first thing I heard after joining them was Airi’s first impression of Housen.

“Sure seems there’s a bunch of troublemakers like Sudou-kun and Ryuuen-kun in this year’s batch of new students, huh?” Haruka sounded somewhat exasperated after having watched the entire commotion play out.

Standing beside her was Akito. He remained motionless, staring fixedly at the spot in the hall where Housen once stood.

“What’s the matter, Miyacchi?” asked Haruka.

“A seriously scary dude has come to our school. Let’s just say things are probably gonna get rocky from here on out. That dude’s… Well, he’s so tough that even Sudou or Ryuuen can’t take him on,” said Akito.

“Wait, hold up. Don’t tell me you know this guy too, Miyachi. Do you?” asked Haruka.

“I never, like, met him in person or anythin’. But Ryuuen and Housen are both pretty big celebrities back where I’m from,” said Akito.

It seemed Akito had lived somewhere close to the junior high schools that Ryuuen and Housen had attended.

“Anyway, there used to be this gang leader at my school… The short version of the story is that this guy was a really tough-looking badass who was supposed to be really good in a fight. But one day, he just suddenly vanished. It caused a huge uproar. Then, right after he disappeared, I heard he’d wound up in the hospital after getting the crap beaten out of him in a one-on-one fight with some dude named Housen, who was on a rampage. This Housen had apparently just started at our junior high. He was a whole two years younger than the other guy.”

“G-gang leader? Dang, that’s like somethin’ straight out of a manga about bad dudes… That’s a little scary,” said Haruka.

“The place I used to live in has been pretty infamous for attracting all sorts of riff raff for a long time now,” said Akito.

“Oh, wow…” Haruka looked a little bit perplexed to hear this string of unfamiliar words from Akito.

“And just like that, Housen went around all the junior high schools in the area, one after another, tightening his grip on all of ’em,” said Akito.

“Ryuuen-kun’s pretty infamous too, isn’t he? But it seems like they’ve never met before,” said Haruka.

“I get the feeling that’s ’cause they just never happened to run into each other,” said Akito.

“By the way, did you used to be a bad dude yourself, Miyachi?” asked Haruka.

“I… I quit doing that kinda stuff. These days I’m tryin’ to be a proper student.”

“So, you were a delinquent.”

“…I had a bad temper all the way up into my second-year of junior high. Since then, I’ve focused everything into archery,” said Akito.

“But that means you really used to be a bad kid, though, right?” asked Haruka.

Akito scratched his head in annoyance as Haruka, strangely enough, continued to press the matter.

“So? What’s wrong with that?” he shot back.

“No, actually, like…I think it’s kinda fine? If anything, I think that means you’ve got a pretty cool past. Don’t ya think?” said Haruka.

“It ain’t cool at all,” said Akito.

I was guessing the reason he knew so much about fighting was because he used to be that sort of person. You could certainly tell by looking at him that he had nerves of steel and quick reflexes.

“I mean, since you were a former bad kid yourself, couldn’t you just give Housen a taste of his own medicine if necessary?” asked Haruka.

“Quit jokin’ around. Even if I do fight somebody, I choose my opponents carefully. And I especially wouldn’t wanna fight Housen, for sure,” said Akito.

Akito was raising the white flag before the fight even happened. He was saying that less as an admission of his own weakness, though, and more due to recognizing Housen’s strength. Ibuki also had a certain degree of proficiency when it came to hand-to-hand combat, and she hadn’t been able to land a single hit. There was just an overwhelming difference in their physiques. And she wasn’t a match for him when it came to speed either.

4.3

A FTER CLASS ENDED , I was approached by Horikita, just like yesterday. As we were about to leave the classroom together, Sudou insisted on accompanying us as well. Horikita tried to refuse him, but just like last time, she seemed to be won over by his eagerness to help until he found a partner of his own. She let him come along on the condition that him taking time to help her wouldn’t interfere with his club activities or his studies. It was certainly surprising for Horikita to be so kind, or perhaps I should say accepting.

But I supposed there was a good reason for her allowing him to come. There were about ten days left until the special exam. Considering how exceptionally difficult the written exam was going to be, it was a good idea to secure a time and place where you’d be able to concentrate on your studies, even if just for a little while. But if Sudou was constantly worrying about what Horikita was up to, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate.

It was clear to see that Horikita wanted to find a partner for Sudou as soon as possible, so that he could have time to devote himself to his studies. Horikita understood Sudou Ken very well—except for one particularly important thing. Namely, Sudou’s feelings for Horikita. She hadn’t recognized that there was a reason, deep down, why he just wanted to be by her side.

Of course, I wasn’t going to deliberately point out what was an important driving force for Sudou.

Instead of heading toward the first-year classrooms, Horikita decided to head towards Keyaki Mall, perhaps because some first-years had caused quite a bit of trouble after coming up to our floor today during lunch. She was being careful to ensure a comparable incident didn’t take place.

Or maybe it was the problem child Housen, from Class 1-D, who had caused Horikita to change her mind. I supposed we’d find out soon enough. As soon as we entered the mall, Sudou stuck the little finger of his left hand in his ear to try and block out some of the sound, seeming a little irritated by the noise. He then gave his honest thoughts on the new students we saw out and about in front of us.

“Man, I gotta say it’s loud in here, dude. Guess that’s ’cause of the first-years kickin’ up a ruckus and all.”

“There certainly are quite a lot of students around,” replied Horikita.

They were all over the place, chatting away happily, discussing things like what they wanted to buy or what they wanted to eat.

“And yet we’re all seriously lookin’ for partners over here,” huffed Sudou.

Wasting day after day trying to decide on a partner wasn’t good for either the second-years or the first-years. However, there was one particularly huge point of separation between the first- and second-years. That was the difference in our perception of the special exams. Very few of the new students felt a keen sense of urgency, just like the ones we’d seen yesterday after class. This fact was even more apparent when we set foot outside the school building.

“It’s no wonder. I mean, it was the same for us, back when we were the new kids,” I replied.

“Yeah, that’s true…” said Sudou.

With the hefty sum of money deposited into their accounts right after they had enrolled here, the new students were spending day after day in pursuit of idle amusement. Even if they were in Class A, it hardly made a difference. Regardless of how they were using their points, the fact was that they were all enjoying what this school had to offer to the absolute fullest.

The most annoying thing of all, though, was the fact that there was a difference in the penalties we faced and the ones the new students did. We faced expulsion, while all they stood to lose were three months’ worth of Private Points.

“Look at ’em, not a care in the world, man,” said Sudou.

“I wouldn’t be talking if I were you, Sudou-kun. Have you forgotten what you were like a year ago?” said Horikita.

“N-no, I didn’t forget or anythin’… I’ve been doin’ a lot of soul searchin’,” said Sudou.

Probably because he was the first student in our class to be faced with the real threat of being expelled. The relief measure that we had utilized at the time was no longer available to us, of course. The privilege of being beginners had already been used up.

“For the time being, let’s try talking with a group of people,” said Horikita, spotting a group of three first-year guys sitting on a bench, chatting and laughing among themselves.

Their names were Kaga, Mikami, and Shiratori. They were all students in Class 1-D and all had an academic ability ranking of B- or better. Before calling out to these students, Horikita had pulled up their information in the app, just to be sure. It seemed she hadn’t changed her mind about going after students from Class 1-D, after all.

“Excuse me, do you have a moment?” asked Horikita.

“…What is it?” replied one of the students.

They could probably tell just by glancing at us that they were dealing with upperclassmen. The joyful expressions quietly faded from their faces and were quickly replaced with looks of caution.

“We’re looking for partners for the upcoming special exam. Have you found partners yourselves yet?” she asked.

“Oh, uh, no. We still haven’t partnered up with anyone yet,” said one of the students.

“If you’d like, we’d be happy to talk to you about partnering up,” said Horikita.

“Yeah, we’d definitely be okay with that. Right?” said one of the students.

After hearing Horikita’s proposal, the three of them nodded in response, almost as if they had discussed matters in advance. We got an unexpectedly good vibe from their response, and it seemed like they had relaxed their guard a little bit. Sudou looked surprised, like he could hardly believe how positive they were acting.

“However, while I’m very sorry to say this, our top priority right now is to find—”

“Partners who can help out the students with poor grades to prevent them from being expelled, right?” said one of the students, finishing Horikita’s sentence.

It seemed that idea had already spread among the new students.

“Yes. If you understand that already, then this discussion will be quick,” said Horikita.

“Um, well… so, you’d like… one of us to team up with Sudou-senpai?” asked one of the students.

They’d also checked out our profiles on their phones, which was why they had no hesitation in talking with us.

“Yes. He’s one of the students we’d like to find a partner for. There are many others, as well,” said Horikita.

“Oh, okay, I see. Let’s see, Sudou-senpai has an academic ability ranking of E+, huh… That does sound quite difficult,” said the student.

He was being diplomatic, but it was still clear he was pointing out just how low Sudou’s academic ability ranking was. Even though what he said was true, Sudou seemed upset. Still, he barely managed to keep it together and not let his dissatisfaction show on his face.

“Shiratori, you should be able to handle it just fine, right?”

The other two students looked to Shiratori, who sat at the far-right end of the bench.

“My academic ability ranking is A, at least for the time being,” said Shiratori.

“Yes, so it seems. If you’re willing to partner with him, I would certainly not complain,” said Horikita.

“In that case… how about this much?” Shiratori held out his hand with all five fingers up, making a proposal in return.

For a moment, Horikita didn’t understand what he was suggesting, so she looked back at Sudou and me.

“My oh my. You want to partner up, right? If so, I should think something like this would be obvious. No?” said Shiratori.

When Horikita heard that, she understood what he meant. “…I suppose you’re referring to Private Points.”

“Of course. I mean, if someone like myself were to team up with a smart student, I could shoot for the top spot. Since I’ll be giving up a chance at getting the top-tier rewards by partnering with a student with a low academic ranking, it’s only natural that I ask for something in return,” said Shiratori.

“Say what? You want points from us?! And you’re askin’ for fifty thousand…? Dude, that’s way too much,” said Sudou.

For someone like Sudou, who was constantly short on funds every day, that was an extraordinary number of points to ask for.

“Senpai, please stop joking around. There’s no way I could accept fifty-thousand,” said Shiratori.

“Huh?” said Sudou.

“I meant five hundred thousand. If you can give me five hundred thousand, I’ll happily partner up with you right here and now,” said Shiratori.

“F-five hundred thousand?!” shouted Sudou.

“It would be quite difficult for you if a student got expelled from your class, right? We’ve been doing a bit of research ourselves, you see,” said Shiratori.

Apparently, this year’s batch of new students were quite different from how we’d been last year. They had already begun to understand how this school worked, and on top of that, they understood their value. Between our grade level and theirs, it was difficult to tell which of us were the seniors and which the juniors. Looking at the situation we were in, it could easily be interpreted the other way around.

“It’s certainly natural to want some kind of remuneration if you’re being asked to partner with someone with a low academic ability ranking,” said Horikita.

“H-hey, Suzune! I ain’t got five hundred large though, y’know?” said Sudou.

“I know that. Be quiet for a minute,” said Horikita.

The three first-year students wore sarcastic, wry smiles on their faces after hearing Sudou carelessly divulge his financial circumstances.

“It’s only natural to want points, yes. However, is chasing after short-term desires really a good idea?” said Horikita.

“Meaning?” asked Shiratori, speaking as a representative of the three students.

“Meaning that if you ingratiate yourselves with us here and now, we might be able to provide help to you down the road, in similar situations,” said Horikita, explaining to them that it would be to their advantage later if they were to exchange in some give-and-take with us in a form other than Private Points.

“Well, putting you aside, Horikita-senpai, since you have an A ranking, I can’t really imagine having Sudou-senpai or Ayanokouji-senpai there would really be of any help to us. Wouldn’t you say?” said Shiratori.

“That’s not necessarily true. This school isn’t just about academics. There are times when you’ll need physical ability, too,” said Horikita.

That was especially applicable to Sudou, as he was the only student in our grade level who had an A+ in physical ability. Horikita had been intending to use that as a weapon in her arsenal for this negotiation, but…

“I know that. But still, you’re just Class D in the end, right? If we were to ingratiate ourselves within anyone, it would be Class A or Class B,” said Shiratori calmly, having apparently come to an objective conclusion.

Seeing that, Horikita probably understood. “…I see. So that’s how it is.”

Considering how smoothly they handled themselves after hearing our offer and the number of points they came back with as a counter-offer, we didn’t need to think too hard about what was going on here.

“Wh-what do you mean by that?” asked Sudou.

“Before you arrived, we were approached by senior students from other classes,” said Shiratori.

“And they told you not to sell your academic abilities for cheap. Right?” asked Horikita.

“Yes. Please understand that we won’t partner with you if you do not offer us suitable compensation in points,” said Shiratori.

In the face of Shiratori and his classmates, Horikita kept her composure, and then continued talking.

“It’s certainly true that you shouldn’t sell yourself cheaply, in that case. However, were you really approached by other students from our grade, though?” said Horikita.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Shiratori. He looked irritated, like his pride as an A-ranked student had been wounded.

“You’re also in Class D, just like us. I can’t imagine students from higher-level classes would have approached you so casually,” said Horikita.

Horikita was bluffing. As long as you had an elevated level of academic ability, you’d be useful to have around in this exam, regardless of whether you were in Class D. She was trying to confirm who had talked to them, and how much they had said.

Perhaps because Shiratori’s pride had been called into question, he rebutted this in a somewhat abrasive tone.

“It’s true, though. We were invited by Hashimoto-senpai from Class 2-A. On top of that, we were approached by students from Class 2-C, who offered us quite a few points to partner up with them. Isn’t that right?” said Shiratori, glancing at his friends, who both immediately voiced their agreement.

“We’re not the only ones, either. Most of the smart kids have been approached,” added Shiratori.

Just as Horikita had calculated, Class 2-A and Class C had gone with the idea of trying to buy students out.

“I see… In that case, I suppose we cannot meet your expectations right now,” said Horikita.

“Oh, but as long as you give us points, we will not refuse you. We intend to see how things go for about a week. If you were to offer us five hundred thousand points during that time, we’d be happy to partner with anyone, even Sudou-senpai,” said Shiratori.

Five hundred thousand points to prevent someone from getting expelled. A large sum to be sure, but if you looked at it from another angle, you could say it was the price of your safety. However, we couldn’t make a snap decision here. Nor did we intend to.

“By the way… How many points did Hashimoto-kun and the others offer you for your cooperation?” asked Horikita.

She was hoping to know the specific number of points that were offered, but Shiratori and his buddies weren’t that naïve.

“We promised not to say. All I will say is that for five hundred thousand points, we will help you,” said Shiratori.

“I understand. I will take that into consideration. However, we would like to ask you for one favor. Would you be willing to introduce us to some of your fellow students in Class D?” asked Horikita.

“Introduce?” Shiratori repeated.

“We’ve already prepared to work with your class, to a certain extent. But approaching each person individually and explaining the same thing over and over would take up a lot of time and energy. If possible, we’d like to gather all of you in one place and have a more concrete discussion then,” said Horikita.

She had hinted at the idea of forming a partnership, but didn’t say specifically what that would look like. The three students exchanged glances, though they all looked uncomfortable about something.

“That’s… Well, asking us to do something like that might be a little difficult … Right, guys?”

“Yeah. If we go ahead and do something like that without getting permission, Housen-kun will probably get mad at us. Don’t you think?”

The name ‘Housen’ came up in the conversation they were having among themselves.

“I’m sorry senpai, but could you please ask someone else to handle that…?” asked Shiratori.

It seemed Housen was the one who held Class 1-D’s leashes, after all. Horikita, sensing that the mood had clearly changed, decided not to pursue the matter further. “Thank you. I will call on you again if the need arises,” she said.

“A-all right. We’ll be waiting,” said Shiratori.

We walked away from the bench and started heading towards the café on the second floor. I secretly peeked back at them as we left, and saw that Shiratori, phone in hand, seemed to be hurriedly calling someone.

“We got some information, but it’s hard to say that we made any actual progress. The only thing we know for sure is that if we were to offer them an absolutely absurd five hundred thousand points, they would agree to cooperate with us on the spot,” said Horikita.

“They’re totally tryin’ to take advantage of us and price gouge, makin’ those ridiculous demands,” huffed Sudou.

“It certainly is a ridiculous amount they’re asking for, yes. But it’s also true that they have no reason to sell their talents on the cheap,” said Horikita.

Even more so if they were ranked A in academic ability. This was certainly a much more direct way of earning points than shooting for the one-hundred-thousand-point reward for getting high marks on the exam.

“So in the end, the only way for me to save myself is by payin’ somebody a bunch of Private Points?” asked Sudou.

“It’s certainly getting harder and harder to say for sure that there are any students out there who will help you for free.”

The notion that points would be the key to forming partnerships had already spread. It would be best if we assumed it wasn’t just Shiratori and his friends who believed so, but rather that their entire grade level knew to ask for points in exchange for partnerships.

I was sure we could safely say this was part of Sakayanagi and Ryuuen’s strategy, too. Normally, doing things in exchange for points was frowned upon. Such transactions brought with them a sense of shame, and so, they were usually done in secret. But by conducting a large-scale buy out operation, they had essentially made the new students realize that offering their services for free would be losing out.

Even so, there was something that bothered me about the conversation we just had with Shiratori and his classmates earlier. Though they had already been approached by students from other classes, they’d said that they were going to wait a week. Even if they were just waiting that long so they could try and fish for more points, I was concerned by the fact that all three of them had seemed to be in agreement about their course of action from the very beginning.

I would have thought students would have wanted to seek reassurance by finding a partner right away. Was it just that those particular three happened to be bullheaded? Or perhaps…

“Even if we continue to ask around randomly like this, we’ll probably keep getting the same answers, won’t we?” I told them.

Scoping out Class 1-D was fun and all, but the real problem came after that. What Shiratori and his friends said about Housen getting angry with them if they acted without permission stuck in my mind. Judging from the way Shiratori and his friends talked, I was certain that Housen Kazuomi oversaw their entire class.

“Housen likely gave his classmates some instructions,” I added. “He probably told them something like, ‘Hey, you can team up with anybody you want, but you can only make a snap decision to team up if they offer you five hundred thousand points. If they don’t make that offer, put their request to team up on hold, even if they’re from Class A,’ or something like that.”

“But wait, if they do that, won’t that mean Class 1-D gets left behind?” asked Sudou.

“I’m saying they’re planning on that happening. They intend to be the last ones,” I replied.

“Huh? I don’t get it,” said Sudou.

“It’s only we second-year students who are afraid of getting hit with the penalty for not finding a partner. He was probably thinking that he can hold that over our heads and use it to rip us off for as many Private Points as possible toward the end,” I told him.

If all the honors students outside of Class 1-D had already been bought up, we’d eventually have no choice but to shell out to get the ones from Class D to cooperate with us, whether we liked it or not. Even if that meant paying a million or two million.

“It’s an incredibly rash strategy, made with absolutely no thought about what’ll happen in the future,” said Horikita.

“Tell me again, how exactly do you plan on fighting this?” I said.

We’d already figured out what Class 1-D was planning to do. So, having taken that into account, I wanted to know what Horikita was thinking. Would she try and force herself in between what Class 2-A and Class C were starting to do right now, with their extreme buy-out strategies? Or would she perhaps adopt a strategy more like what Ichinose was doing, forming relationships built on trust by accepting many lower-ranked students, regardless of what class they were in, and appealing to the honors students for their cooperation?

“I decided to set three goals when we heard the outline for this particular special exam,” said Horikita.

“Three goals?” asked Sudou.

He seemed to be interested in what she was about to say, since he was leaning in closer.

“The most important of which is to not let anyone from our class get expelled. That goes without saying,” said Horikita.

“Yeah, for sure,” replied Sudou, nodding.

“The second is to shoot for third place or better in overall points, in the competition against other classes,” said Horikita.

“Wait, third? You mean we’re throwin’ away our shot of going after first or second right from the get-go?” asked Sudou.

“No one said anything about throwing away our shot of going after those places. I said third place or better,” said Horikita.

True enough, saying she was hoping for third place or better technically included first- and second-place. But that didn’t seem to be precisely what she meant, and it most likely had something to do with her third goal.

“My third goal is to avoid participating in these money games. I plan to do battle with those three principles in mind,” said Horikita.

“Huh…? B-but…” stammered Sudou.

“I understand what you want to say. Namely, that if we’re not going to compete using Private Points, then we have no hope of winning this thing. However, even if we try and compete using the points that we have, the reward isn’t worth the risk. Even if we do finish in first place overall, we will only gain fifty Class Points. Meaning that over the course of a year, our class would only get a little over two million Private Points,” said Horikita.

If we got five thousand points per person per month, (excluding the deposit that we got in April, which had already passed) and multiplied that amount by the remaining eleven months, then we’d end up with two million, one hundred and forty-five thousand Private Points.

“And if we pay five hundred thousand points per person, that means we’d be in the red after paying for five people. We can’t possibly be so naïve as to think that we could win this thing just by getting four or so first-years who have an academic ability ranking of A, right?” said Horikita.

Even if we were to carry that into the next two years—that is, until we graduated—it would still only be four million, four hundred and eighty-five thousand Private Points. Which covered a maximum of eight recruits. Moreover, this was all based on the supposition that not only could we assuredly draw in those students at five hundred thousand at most, but also, that we would be getting first place in the overall rankings by grade level. Considering the risks, it would likely be far more efficient for us to simply wait for an upcoming special exam and use our Private Points then.

“Private Points and Class Points are not equal. I’m well aware that there is more to it than just what we get in return. However, I think that even if we do pump all our points into this test, we’d only have a slim chance of winning, so we shouldn’t try and push it. Am I wrong, Ayanokouji-kun?” asked Horikita.

“Not at all. Your decision is the right one,” I replied.

The difference in overall academic ability between us and Class 2-A had been clear from the start. If we wanted to win overall, I couldn’t really imagine we’d gain much of an advantage from bringing in eight students. Of course, Horikita was resourceful. She would probably consider paying out Private Points if there were students who were willing to partner up for fifty or a hundred thousand. It was just that she didn’t want this battle to come down to what was in our bank accounts.

“In order to achieve those three goals, I still think we should try to negotiate with Class 1-D, after all,” said Horikita.

“Wh-why though? Weren’t all the kids in their class told by Housen not to team up with us for anythin’ less than five hundred large?” said Sudou.

“As far as the honors students are concerned, yes, that’s true. However, there are students in their class who have an academic ability ranking of C or below, too. What do you think would happen if they were neglected?” asked Horikita.

“What would happen…?” repeated Sudou.

“Students who should normally have been fine would also receive penalties, and their position would be thrown into question,” I replied.

Horikita nodded at what I said, and then continued from there.

“There’s no way those students would willingly give up the Private Points they could get every month. Which means at some point, Housen-kun will have no choice but to abandon his current stance,” said Horikita.

Even if all the honors students in 1-D tried selling themselves for five hundred thousand points, the rest of the students in their class couldn’t do the same. Putting aside the issue of whether second-year students would get expelled or not, Housen would fall behind in the battle between the first-years.

“If he’s looking for a way to win, there will definitely be an opening that we can exploit,” said Horikita.

It seemed she was intent on dealing with Class 1-D then, the class that everyone else wanted to avoid.

“That being said, it would be dangerous for all thirty-nine of us to try and engage with Housen-kun’s class. We need to minimize the risk as much as possible,” said Horikita.

If our negotiations failed, then it would be the students with less academic skill who would be in trouble.

“Considering that the exam period has only just begun, I suppose it’s not strange some kids are asking for entirely unreasonable conditions to partner up,” said Horikita.

“Well, I hope you’re right… I mean, as far as I’m concerned though, I kinda doubt there’s anyone out there for me,” said Sudou.

“In any case, the only way we’ll find gifted partners is to reach out to a lot of people,” said Horikita.

As we were waking up the steps to the café on the second floor though, we heard a voice come from behind us.

“Hey! If you’re looking for a gifted partner, I’m right here, y’know?”

When we turned around, we saw a lone female student looking over at us, with a big grin on her face, from ear to ear. As soon as our eyes met, she slowly walked up the steps. Horikita was the first one of us to let her suspicions show on her face.

“Were you eavesdropping on us?” she asked.

“Oh, gosh, no, senpai, I just shouted out because I only happened to hear what you were saying is all. And umm…” The girl spoke without looking over at Sudou or me, keeping her gaze locked onto Horikita. “Senpai, what’s your name and academic ability ranking?”

“… My name’s Horikita. I’m from Class 2-D. My academic ability score is A-. What of it?” she asked.

“Oh, wow, you’re smart!” replied the girl.

“And your name is?”

“I’m Ichika Amasawa. From Class 1-A. I’m the same as you, Horikita-senpai. I’ve got an A in academic ability.”

She looks like a girl who only cares about popularity, but is actually quite a smart student. Just to be sure, Horikita checked her information in the app.

“If you want to shoot for the top, I’ll work with you. Okay?”

Amasawa asked that question without even asking anything about our backgrounds. If students with A- and A ratings teamed up together, it certainly wouldn’t be impossible for them to get first place. As for Horikita, she had deliberately lowered her score for Sudou’s sake in the past, so if you took that fact into consideration, it wouldn’t be unfair to say she actually was an A, not an A-.

Though this was unexpected, Horikita could very well end up settling on a partner for herself, not Sudou or anyone else. This might be a coincidence, but a student with an academic ability ranking of A did just reach out to her. If Horikita were to say that she instead wanted Amasawa to partner with a student with a lower ranking, Amasawa might choose to walk away.

“I sincerely appreciate the offer, but I’m actually not looking for a partner right now myself. Instead of partnering with me though, could I possibly ask you about partnering with him… With Sudou-kun?” asked Horikita.

Horikita took that risk anyway, introducing the girl to Sudou. Though Sudou was a little perplexed by the situation, he gently bowed his head to Amasawa, giving her a proper greeting.

“Uh, let’s see, what’s Sudou-senpai’s academic ability ranking?” said Amasawa.

“E+. Certainly not a good grade, by any stretch,” said Horikita.

‘Not good’ was putting it mildly. If anything, he was in the running for the lowest ranking in our entire grade.

“I gotcha. So that means you’re looking for help, Horikita-senpai. You’re trying to find a partner for him so that he won’t get kicked out of school.” Amasawa, having grasped the situation, looked over at Sudou. “E+, huh. If we teamed up, forget about getting the top spot. We’d probably end up scoring a little under the middle of the road.”

“Yes, that’s true. There’s hardly any advantage for you in it,” said Horikita.

I wondered if Amasawa was going to bring up points now, but there was no sign she was going to do that.

“Well, still, if you’re askin’ for help, I certainly wouldn’t mind lending you a hand,” said Amasawa.

Things were clearly looking much more favorable for us than how they’d gone with those three boys earlier. Amasawa then looked in my direction.

“What about him? Is he looking for a partner too?” she asked.

“His academic ability ranking is C. He’s not exactly a top priority for us. However, if Sudou-kun is a no-go for you, we’d still be very appreciative if you’d team up with Ayanokouji-kun, as a worst-case scenario,” said Horikita.

“Wait, no, hold on—” I replied, cutting in.

While this was probably a kind gesture on Horikita’s part, I had to put a stop to it. I couldn’t just decide upon a partner right now without thinking about it.

“Is there something wrong with her?” asked Horikita.

“No, it’s not like that, it’s—”

“Oh, hey, wait a sec. I still haven’t said which one of them I’ll pair up with yet though, y’know?” Amasawa, seeing that the conversation was moving ahead without her actual consent on the matter, spoke up and put a stop to it.

“Do you have any conditions you would need fulfilled for you to partner with either of these two, then?” asked Horikita.

“Conditions, conditions, huh. Yeah, okay. I suppose I am entitled to at least that much, right?” said Amasawa.

Horikita had decided to bring up the topic herself, to see if Amasawa had any conditions for a partnership. She hadn’t changed her basic policy of avoiding engaging in a spending competition with the other classes using Private Points, but if Amasawa’s price was low enough, there was room for consideration. I just prayed it wasn’t too high a price, like what Shiratori and his friends were asking for…

“Well, I really like strong people, y’know,” said Amasawa, saying something that had absolutely nothing to do with this exam while wearing a devilish little grin.

“What in the world are you talking about?” Horikita furrowed her brow suspiciously, having expected the topic of discussion to shift from studies to points.

“Well, it’s like, I was racking my brain over what I should do for this exam and stuff. I was thinking, should I study super hard, team up with someone around A-rank like Horikita-senpai, and try and shoot for the top? …Or, like, should I kinda take it easy, just try and get through the exam? And if I’m going to take it easy in the test, I’d wanna team up with someone I like, you know what I mean?” said Amasawa.

I supposed that was certainly preferable to working with someone you didn’t like or someone you didn’t care about at all.

“I like strong guys,” added Amasawa, repeating what she had just said earlier. Horikita’s head spun as she tried to understand what Amasawa was saying.

“Meaning… you’re asking if Sudou-kun is strong or not, then?” asked Horikita.

“Right. And I’m not talking about, like, being mentally strong or anything. I’m asking about whether he’s physically strong. Well, I can tell easily enough that you do sports or stuff just from looking at your physique,” said Amasawa, pointing her finger at Sudou, a student who normally should be a non-entity to someone with an A in academic ability.

Sudou was confident of his strength, so while he was somewhat shy about it, he nodded in agreement.

“You wanna partner with me?” asked Amasawa, extending her hand and caressing Sudou’s cheek.

“W-well, I mean, if I had an A in academics, then we’d be a lot better off though… Are you really okay with me?” said Sudou.

“If you really are strong, then sure,” said Amasawa.

She ran her thin fingertip along Sudou’s chest, mesmerizing him with her allure.

“I-I’m strong,” he replied.

“Well, I don’t dislike guys who are full of confidence,” said Amasawa.

“What exactly do you mean, if he’s really strong?” Horikita, who had taken on the responsibility of getting Sudou situated, expressed her lack of understanding of what Amasawa was talking about.

“It means what it sounds like. I like strong people who are good in a fight. That’s why I wanna partner up with someone strong,” said Amasawa.

“In that case, I think Sudou-kun can measure up. I can vouch for his physical strength,” said Horikita.

“Words aren’t enough for me, though. I’ll have to confirm it with my own eyes,” said Amasawa.

“…With your own eyes?” asked Horikita.

“I mean like, go out, round up a bunch of strong second-years, have ’em fight each other. And then I’ll partner up with the toughest one there,” said Amasawa.

“Are you joking? There’s no way we could do something like that,” said Horikita.

“Why not? Hey, I’ve been serious this whole time we’ve been talking, right?”

Sudou, who couldn’t believe Amasawa was being serious either, spoke. “Let’s go, Suzune. Stayin’ here’s just a waste of time.”

It sounded almost as though he was admonishing himself for falling for Amasawa’s charms, even if only for a moment.

“Eh, I don’t really care if you just wanna pretend this conversation never happened,” said Amasawa.

She was saying that to her, this whole thing was nothing more than a little fun. She certainly didn’t have to go out of her way to partner up with an E+ ranked student, if she wanted. Considering the fact that Amasawa’s class and abilities were nothing to scoff at, she’d probably have no shortage of people willing to pay to be with her.

Still, this might be fortunate for us, to a certain extent. If we agreed to her request, Sudou would gain the right to partner with a student with A-rank academic ability. And even if he didn’t end up getting to partner with her, we lost nothing.

“You’re not saying this just to make fun of us, then? You’re really serious about this?” asked Horikita in response, a serious look in her eyes.

“Of course I’m serious,” said Amasawa.

“I see. In that case, I suppose we’ll take this seriously too, and hear you out,” said Horikita.

“H-Hey, Suzune?” said Sudou.

“Come on, it’s fine! I wanna team up with someone strong, after all,” said Amasawa.

“All right. In that case, Sudou-kun, you should accept her offer,” said Horikita.

“W-wait, hold up, Suzune. The school ain’t just gonna let us have a fight or whatever. Stuff’ll get pretty bad if we fight, won’t it? I mean like what happened last year, and at lunch, with that little tussle with that Housen dude. Right?” said Sudou.

Last year, Sudou had gotten in a fight with several guys from Ryuuen’s class and it had turned into quite the problem. And just today, there had been a big commotion when Housen came by.

“It’s certainly true that fighting isn’t exactly praiseworthy. But if both sides consent, there should be no issue. Don’t you think so, Ayanokouji-kun?” said Horikita.

I took a moment to consider what Horikita’s intentions were in asking me that question. If she was asking me if there was no issue with such a fight, then my answer would obviously be that yes, there would be issues. Win or lose, even if both parties agreed to fight and then started swinging, there was essentially no way that school administrators would approve of something that essentially amounted to a duel. However, Horikita had responded to Amasawa in a way that sounded like she was condoning the idea of such a brawl.

“I suppose you’re right. If school officials heard talk of a fight, there’s no way they’d agree to let it happen. If the students involved all consent to the fight, however, it doesn’t seem like it’d be a huge issue.” I purposefully answered her back in a way that communicated I had no problem with it.

“H-hey, Ayanokouji!” wailed Sudou.

“On top of that, no matter who you picked from our grade level, no one would be able to beat Sudou-kun in a fight,” said Horikita.

“Got that right,” I replied.

Sudou didn’t understand what was going on, but Horikita and I were taking turns passing the baton back and forth to each other in this conversation. The important thing right now wasn’t to affirm the idea of actually having a fight. It was to prove that Sudou was the strongest— without actually having him fight anyone.

“To be frank, Sudou-kun, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Think about it. Normally, it would be extremely difficult to pair you up with a student with A-rank academic ability. However, Amasawa-san has said that she’s willing to partner with you. Understand? On top of that, she’s agreeing to partner with you on the condition of you winning a fight. A test of strength. Something you’re better at than anyone else. You should take this deal without a second’s hesitation,” said Horikita.

There was no way a second-year student familiar with the school rules would carelessly agree to engage in a fight like this. On top of that, if their opponent was Sudou, the outcome was as clear as day. In other words…even if we agreed to her terms here and now, the fight might never actually end up taking place. And even in the off chance that someone did take the challenge, Sudou could put them down.

“Ooh, nice! Nice! I’m gettin’ kind of excited!” Amasawa, having just enrolled here, naturally knew none of this. There was no way she could understand how different this place was from a normal junior high or high school.

“But, could you promise us one thing, first? If no one shows up to this fight other than Sudou-kun, then you’ll agree to partner with him,” said Horikita, hoping to confirm an important part of the deal.

If Amasawa didn’t agree to that condition, this discussion would go any further.

“Sure. I promise. If no challenger shows up, then he’ll win by default,” said Amasawa.

After Amasawa gave us her word, Horikita nodded, apparently satisfied.

“All right, Sudou-kun?” she asked, turning to Sudou.

“…Sure. If you don’t have a problem with it, Suzune, then I don’t mind at all,” said Sudou, balling both his hands into fists and then smacking them together in front of him, hard.

As far as Horikita was concerned, Amasawa’s proposal was both a product of chance and an invaluable opportunity.

“Okey dokey, I’ll post a general message in the app for everyone to see. I’ll tell anyone who feels confident about their physical strength to shoot me a direct message before the end of the day if they wanna join in,” said Amasawa.

“Heh. No matter who shows up, I’ll take ’em.” Conveniently enough, Sudou didn’t seem to understand what Horikita was thinking. He was probably just getting excited over the idea of fighting somebody hand-to-hand.

“Would it be all right if we select the location? We’d prefer not to unintentionally let things slip to the school,” said Horikita.

“Yeah, sure. I think you guys would probably know more about that than me anyway. I’ll let you handle that part.” Amasawa must have finished composing her message, because she turned to us for a final confirmation before sending it out. “Okay, so once this goes out, we’ll have our little test of strength. That okay with you?”

Horikita nodded back in response. Amasawa slowly looked over all three of us. Then she turned her phone’s screen off and put it back in her pocket.

“Actually, let’s not, after all,” said Amasawa.

I had thought maybe she had a sudden change of heart, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Judging from the look on her face, we should assume that she had been testing us, trying to feel us out. However, both Horikita and Sudou were flustered by Amasawa’s abrupt change.

“What’s wrong?” asked Horikita.

“Even if I put out a message asking for people, it doesn’t seem like anyone would show up. Based on Sudou-senpai’s physique, and the way both Horikita-senpai and Ayanokouji-senpai are acting, I can tell he’s top dog in terms of strength in your grade level,” said Amasawa.

So she’d come to understand there was no need to go through the trouble of making people fight to compare them. It seemed the little act Horikita and I had put on, as well as Sudou’s natural reaction, had been even more effective than we had expected. If Amasawa had only noticed all this after she posted the message, Horikita probably wouldn’t have let her take it back.

In order to not let Amasawa realize that we had been acting before, Horikita expressed her dissatisfaction. “Are you making fun of us?”

“No way, it’s nothing like that, really. It’s just, like, it’s no fun when the outcome’s so obvious. I just want to see it with my own eyes and make sure he’s the strongest. So please don’t get all mad at me, senpai.”

Amasawa pressed her forefinger against her lips, lost in thought for a moment.

“I’ll still give you a chance though, so come on, forgive me?” she added.

Horikita was trying to stay in control of the conversation, but kept getting knocked off balance by Amasawa’s peculiar approach. It seemed she didn’t jive so well with people like Amasawa.

“Well, I guess besides strong guys, I like guys who can cook,” said Amasawa.

“Cook?” said Horikita.

Amasawa’s newest suggestion was once again something completely unrelated to the special exam.

“So, Sudou-senpai, right? Would you make me a home-cooked meal? Something, like, super extra yummy?” said Amasawa.

“A h-home-cooked meal?!” stammered Sudou.

Sudou, who had been brimming with confidence just moments ago, now seemed overcome with shock after hearing her unexpected request.

“I mean, it being tasty is a prerequisite, of course. It’s gotta be good. But you also have to make something that I specifically request,” said Amasawa.

“W-wait, I ain’t ever cooked a meal in my life—”

“Is that so? Well, I guess that means I take back giving you a chance, hmm,” replied Amasawa, cutting him off.

Horikita jumped into the conversation, not wanting to let this opportunity pass us by. “Can I do it then, in Sudou-kun’s place?”

“Nope. I told you before, didn’t I? I said I like guys who can cook. ’Sides, if the guy I’m partnering up with can’t cook, then there’s no point in partnering with them at all,” said Amasawa.

Meaning it didn’t matter how well Horikita could cook. If you were a girl, Amasawa wasn’t interested.

“Well, if Sudou-senpai is no good, why not give up on him and try to find a classmate who can cook? Oh, is that because even if you did go out and find someone in a hurry, I still wouldn’t be partnering with Sudou-senpai then, hm?” said Amasawa, flashing a devilish grin. “Maybe you should work on turning Sudou-senpai into a master cook. Of course, I gotta wonder if you can really do that in time, huh. I am pretty popular, you know. If you don’t hurry, I’ll probably find a partner.”

That wasn’t just a hollow threat. She would probably find a partner in the not-too-distant future. There were many exceptionally talented students other than Horikita in our grade level. There was no need for Amasawa to deliberately take on the risk of partnering with the likes of Sudou. If anything, this was nothing more than a playful whim on her part. If she changed her mind even a little, that would be the end of it.

But a classmate who had poor grades and was a guy who was good at cooking? No one else came to mind at the moment. In that case, this request from Amasawa might just be a no-go for Class D. Giving up on her and going after other students would probably be a better use of our time.

When Amasawa saw we weren’t giving her an answer, she went on to add something else.

“Okay. Well, how about I give you a little special treatment? I did want to partner with a guy who’s good at cooking, but… If you can satisfy my taste buds, I’d be willing to team up with a good fighter like Sudou-senpai,” said Amasawa.

She was offering us a compromise. Amasawa wanted to partner up with a guy who was a good fighter or a good cook. In that case, we could certainly satisfy her.

“I guess it would be like teaming up with a good cook and a good fighter at the same time, huh?” she added.

Amasawa was saying she would be willing to partner up with Sudou as long as another guy could satisfy her. I wondered how Horikita would respond…? But the problem was that I couldn’t really think of a student who fit the bill. We also seriously lacked the time necessary to teach someone how to cook.

“Ayanokouji-kun. If I recall, you once boasted to me that you’re quite the skilled cook, didn’t you?” said Horikita.

What in the world was Horikita thinking, asking me a question like that so openly? I had never once told her anything of the sort, much less boasted about it. While it would have been easy for me to deny her assertion, it seemed necessary for me to play along and make sure our stories matched. The chances of Sudou being able to partner with a student with an A in academic ability weren’t exactly high.

“It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that cooking is my one and only area of expertise,” I replied.

“Yes, quite. Well then, if you’ll permit it, Amasawa-san, how about Ayanokouji-kun?” asked Horikita.

“As long as it’s a guy, I don’t care who. But is he really a good cook, though? I mean, you can go ahead and say whatever you want, talk is cheap, but I’m going to judge you pretty harshly, okay?” said Amasawa.

“That’ll be fine, of course. Isn’t that right?” said Horikita, turning to me.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

As soon as I agreed to it, Amasawa immediately clapped her hands together.

“Okay! How about we get this show on the road and you show me what you can do?”

Things were moving way too quickly. However, what Amasawa had just said seemed like she was both sealing the deal and giving us an ultimatum. She wanted to avoid giving me enough of a grace period that I could go learn how to cook. She wanted to ascertain whether I really was as good as I claimed to be.

Since Horikita needed to make sure Amasawa believed her lie, she couldn’t go ahead and say yes to her request. Even if I were to go ahead and cook for Amasawa now, with my current level of skill, it was clear it wouldn’t amount to much. And even if Amasawa didn’t actually judge me that harshly, I would probably still end up failing to meet her standards.

“While we’d love to, could you possibly give us a little time? Ayanokouji-kun and I are in the process of reaching out to first-year students to find partners for our classmates. Aside from Sudou-kun, there are many other students who need help. If the other classes beat us to the punch, then we’ll really be hurting. Even at this very moment, our rivals are scrambling to find partners,” said Horikita, explaining our situation to Amasawa, to see if she understood what we were dealing with. “If possible, we’d like to put this on hold until after class on Friday.”

She rejected Amasawa’s request to have me cook something for her right away. On top of that, she asked if we could postpone things for a couple of days, suggesting we could make some time on the weekend.

“I see, I see. Well, I suppose you’re right, it wouldn’t be good for little ol’ me to take up all your time myself.” Then Amasawa offered a new proposal. “I’d be all right doing it later tonight, though. What about that? That wouldn’t be a problem, would it?”

“A first-year student going to a second-year student’s dorm in the middle of the night—and a boy’s room, to boot—would most certainly be improper,” said Horikita.

“Oh, I see. But waitin’ until the weekend is kinda tough for me. And I’d lose the chance to partner up with any other of my senpai then… Right?”

Just as I’d thought, Horikita’s suggestion to wait until the weekend wasn’t going to fly. Amasawa came back with a pretty harsh reply this time.

“But since this is kinda, like, fate or something, I’ll give you just one day. If you tell me you can’t cook something for me tomorrow after class, I guess we’ll just have to pretend this whole thing never happened,” said Amasawa.

That was probably the very last compromise she was willing to make. She was drawing a hard line. I got the sense that if we got too greedy, Amasawa would immediately pull back. If Horikita didn’t slip up in her bargaining, then…

“You’re right. I certainly cannot deny that my request would place quite a burden on you. And besides, I’m sure you don’t want to carelessly give us time to practice cooking. Right?” said Horikita.

“Oh, gosh, no, I didn’t think that far ahead or anything,” said Amasawa.

“…All right. Can we seal the deal then, with these terms?” asked Horikita.

We only had one day of preparation time. However, if we didn’t stick to those terms, we weren’t going to be able to hold onto Amasawa. What Horikita was agreeing to could be interpreted as desperate measures taken under pressure of necessity, but she signaled that she agreed to the amended proposal all the same.

“It’s settled, then.” Amasawa agreed readily, having no objection to meeting up tomorrow after class like she’d suggested earlier.

“However, that’s as long as you don’t take back what you said, like you did earlier when we were talking about having a fight,” said Horikita.

“Okay. I promise. If I determine that his cooking skills are legit, then I’ll team up with Sudou-senpai right then and there.” Although it was just a verbal promise, Amasawa nodded and answered honestly.

“Please, I’m beggin’ ya, Ayanokouji. Use your cookin’ skills to get me a partner, somehow!” wailed Sudou.

Given the situation, I figured I’d play along. But I never imagined things would turn out like this.

“Okay, so, how about we meet up in front of Keyaki Mall at four thirty tomorrow after class? Would that be okay, Ayanokouji-senpai?” asked Amasawa.

“At the mall? Not at the dorms?” I asked in return.

“What I’m gonna ask you to make is a secret! And besides, you’re gonna have to buy the ingredients and stuff to make it, right?” said Amasawa.

I see. So she was going to judge me on everything, starting with what I bought.

“Is it okay if I accompany him too?” asked Horikita, probably looking to offer me advice, so that our ruse wouldn’t be discovered.

But our opponent wasn’t going to let that slide so easily.

“Nope! You could give him advice, by like, signaling with your eyes and stuff. I’m going to be reaaaaaally strict with how I judge!” said Amasawa.

Meaning I would somehow have to make it work all on my own tomorrow.

“You’ll be fine, right, Ayanokouji-senpai?” asked Amasawa.

“Yeah, no problem.”

I figured that I’d give her a straight answer for the time being, but man, this had turned into quite the ordeal.

“Okay, then I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye bye!” said Amasawa, before proceeding to go back down the stairs, seemingly satisfied.

“Horikita, I’m sure you already know this, but—”

“Be quiet right now. I’m thinking of a plan,” said Horikita, cutting me off.

Even though she told me she’d think of a plan, we only had one day. Just how far could I really go, considering I had only the bare minimum level of cooking skill?