Chapter 9: Those Working Behind the Scenes

Chapter 9: Those Working Behind the Scenes

Chapter 9:

Those Working Behind the Scenes

F OUR O’CLOCK was here at last, and the hectic Cultural Festival finally came to an end. Just as the school explained to us beforehand, the accounting app forcibly shut down, and no further sales could be entered. The results would be available to be checked via our phones in two hours’ time, starting at six o’clock in the evening. But even though the festival was over, the fact remained that we were going to need to keep taking care of things until everything was done.

The guests who stayed all the way until the end of the festival began to leave their seats now that the café was closed. They each gave the students their impressions of the maid café, telling them what they thought. Just about all of the comments were positive, telling us that the café was interesting, fun, and so on. For the students who worked so hard, these warm words penetrated deep into their hearts and seemed to wash away their fatigue.

Incidentally, the second the clock struck four, Chabashira-sensei bolted out of the classroom as fast as her legs could carry her. I assumed running in an outfit like that would make her even more conspicuous, but I decided I’d just leave that issue alone.

It was just around 5:30 p.m. when the last of the customers had finally left, and all of our classmates (with the exception of Kouenji) were gathered in the maid café.

“Great work, everyone,” said Horikita. “A lot of things happened today, but we finished the Cultural Festival strong and in an ideal way. I can’t imagine that we could’ve had a better turnout than we did.”

Ike and the other guys had just finished cleaning up and packing away the outdoor food stalls and were also in attendance. Some café guests were still eating at the time the festival ended, so they had left a little bit later, and there were still some things left to be cleaned up, but Horikita went ahead and started summing up what happened at the festival.

“The results will be announced later, but there’s something I wish to talk to you about first,” she said.

That’s right. There were thirty-seven people in class, as Akito and Haruka remained. Although Horikita hadn’t prompted her to say something, Haruka took a step forward as she was clearly the person on everyone’s minds right now. As the classroom sat in silence, Haruka opened her mouth to speak.

“I think that there’s something I wanna say first, though,” she muttered. “I haven’t forgiven all of you here.”

Some students had been expecting her to start things off with an apology, and they exchanged looks with one another, feeling more bewildered than angry. It didn’t seem as though they particularly blamed her for anything. Everyone could understand. They had matured enough to the point where they could feel the pain of what it was like to lose a friend—a close confidant.

She continued from there. “But the person that I can’t forgive the most is me. I assumed that everyone who got kicked out of school must be miserable. Like Yamauchi-kun who left last year, and now Airi.”

At the mention of Yamauchi’s name, Sudou, Ike, and some of the other guys looked distant, like they were thinking about him.

“I was convinced that it was in Airi’s best interest to remain at this school. I selfishly assumed that’s what would make her the happiest. That’s why I hated everyone… Why I wanted to get revenge.” Haruka then gripped her uniform’s skirt tightly, feelings of frustration welling up within her. “I was planning on dropping out at the end of the festival too.”

That was something that Haruka didn’t need to tell us, but still, she confessed the truth because she hated hiding it. I figured that some students had anticipated it, but most of them remained silent with their mouths clamped shut.

Then, Akito spoke up and revealed the truth as well, unable to stay quiet. “I was planning on dropping out too, together with Haruka.”

“If you two had chosen to drop out of school, we likely would never reach Class A,” Horikita said. “That would’ve been the easiest, most potent method of taking your revenge.”

There was no need for complicated schemes or petty tricks. Just by dropping out of school, they would cause us to lose a lot of Class Points.

“But, if you’ll give me a chance, I’d like to stay in this class now,” pleaded Haruka.

“You’ve had a change of heart?” asked Horikita.

“Airi’s out there in the world, spreading her wings, trying to do her thing,” Haruka said. “That’s what Kushida-san showed me.”

Hearing Kushida’s name, everyone turned their eyes to her in unison. Kushida appended Haruka’s statement, as the majority of the class couldn’t understand what was going on.

“It looks like Sakura-san is trying her best to become an idol,” she explained. “You can find her if you do some digging on social media. Maybe you can ask Hasebe-san to tell you about it later.”

Some students seemed surprised, and others seemed to have already had some idea. But what all of those students shared between them was a common understanding that Airi had taken a step forward.

“Airi is going to grow—a lot,” Haruka said. “I’m sure she’ll grow even more than I thought she would. That’s why I want to graduate from Class A and become someone who can go see her. I want to be able to show myself to her without feeling ashamed.”

“You’ve made a good decision, Hasebe-san,” said Horikita.

“I plan to accept whatever punishment for all the trouble I caused,” said Haruka.

“Me too,” added Akito. “I’m just as guilty. I didn’t help with the festival and caused a lot of trouble for the class.”

Horikita took a step forward to speak before any other student could chime in.

“Yes, skipping the festival in itself is problematic behavior, but fortunately, it doesn’t violate any school rules,” she said. “We’re only required to take a one-hour break at minimum; we didn’t necessarily have to work at the festival. Kouenji-kun hasn’t shown up at all since this morning, so he’s in the same situation.”

Haruka looked stunned yet relieved as Horikita approached.

“If you are looking for a punishment, though, it can only be this: you’re to remain with me as my classmate from now onward. Can you face that reality?” asked Horikita.

I wondered what Haruka thought—what she saw reflected in Horikita’s eyes in that moment.

“I’ll try,” Haruka said. “I’ll give it my absolute best.”

“Okay. So, does that mean from now on, I can assume you’ll be your usual self, Hasebe-san?”

“…Don’t worry. I won’t cause any trouble.”

Horikita nodded, telling her that was plenty. “And you too, Miyake-kun,” she added. “You’ll be just like how you used to be. Okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he answered.

“In that case, that’ll be all for today. Let’s all work together and finish up the last bit of cleaning quickly,” said Horikita.

Keisei walked up to Haruka and Akito, albeit somewhat hesitantly. After Akito offered an apology, Keisei’s eyes welled up, a little red with tears, and he replied with words of relief. Then, with an apology from Haruka, the three of them were brought together for the first time in a long while, and they looked at each other with small smiles on their faces. Eventually, Akito and Keisei directed their gazes over at me, as though they had made up their minds about something.

The boys signaled to Haruka, and then, all three of them were looking at me, albeit with some hesitation and confusion. If I came forward and approached them right here and now, we might have been able to reform our old group, even if only in a formal sense. But that was no longer necessary. I turned my back to them and offered words of appreciation to Satou and the other girls. Our group, which used to be five, had now become three, but I hoped that they would be joined together by a stronger bond than before.

My presence wasn’t needed there. I figured the three of them could sense that what I just did was my way of saying farewell, a sign that we were going our separate ways. They didn’t approach me or try to talk to me either.

After that, things moved quickly. Even with the remaining clean-up that had to be done, with thirty-seven people, things would get back to normal in no time at all. We finished everything before six o’clock came around.

Then, the results of the festival were announced.

1 st Place: Class 2-B +100 Class Points

2 nd Place: Class 2-C +100 Class Points

3 rd Place: Class 3-B +100 Class Points

4 th Place: Class 2-A +100 Class Points

5 th Place: Class 1-A +50 Class Points

6 th Place: Class 3-C +50 Class Points

7 th Place: Class 2-D +50 Class Points

8 th Place: Class 1-C +50 Class Points

9 th Place: Class 3-D

10 th Place: Class 1-B

11 th Place: Class 3-A

12 th Place: Class 1-D

“We got first place!” exclaimed Sudou. “Yeah, we did it!”

“Wow, I guess Chabashira-sensei’s cosplay really did the trick, huh?” mused Satou.

All of the students were rejoicing and congratulating one another for putting up a good fight.

“But still, Ryuuen’s class came right behind us in second, and Sakayanagi’s class came in fourth. Impressive as ever,” I remarked.

“Ayanokouji-kun,” said Horikita.

“Yeah, everything went according to plan,” I answered.

If we were operating on the assumption that Horikita’s class was going to take the top spot, then it would have been expected from the very beginning that Ryuuen’s class would also be among the top scorers.

“I was wondering how we were going to fare since we were both doing something so similar…but it seems like we managed to pull through,” said Horikita.

“But there were some unexpected developments too,” I said. “Sakayanagi came in close, in fourth place.”

“You’re right… Did you see what her class put together?”

“No, I didn’t go up to the third floor of the special building today,” I said. “Did you see what they were doing?”

“Class A was selling brochures and such about the school, for a low price. Other than that, they didn’t have food or drinks or any other kind of entertainment. I wonder what kind of trick they used…”

“We might find a clue at the bottom of the rankings,” I suggested.

“You mean, Housen-kun’s class, Class 1-D…? What about them?” asked Horikita.

“If this was a case where they fought hard only to come in last place, then that would be just fine,” I said. “But I can’t imagine that’s what happened. Their class’s entertainment offerings, which were basically reimaginings of what you’d typically find at festivals, were quite a hit. I was expecting they’d be one of the classes in the top of the rankings. What do you think about the fact that they came in below Class 3-A?”

“Class 3-A came in eleventh place,” said Horikita. “They basically gave up on the competition from the start by pricing themselves out of being competitive. They were focused solely on pleasing the guests in putting together their offering.”

We had confirmed that the entry fee for their haunted house thing was only 100 points. On the other hand, the shooting games and other offerings that Housen’s class had set up had been priced more appropriately.

“The top classes in this Cultural Festival earn 100 Class Points. That means Housen might have gotten something else, behind the scenes,” I suggested.

“So, you’re saying that…it’s possible that he got Private Points, conceivably?” asked Horikita.

“Does it remind you of what happened during the Uninhabited Island Special Exam last year?”

In that exam, Ryuuen and Katsuragi made a contract: Katsuragi paid Ryuuen Private Points in exchange for letting him earn Class Points. It wouldn’t have been surprising if Sakayanagi and Housen did something comparable here.

“It’s not impossible,” said Horikita. “Or I suppose they might have entered into a similar contract, to trade places.”

The accounting for the festival was done via our phones. If Housen and his classmates had Class 2-A’s phones and used them for all of their accounting, thus donating all of their sales to Class 2-A, that would make sense. It was a viable enough strategy. And if Class 2-A also provided Housen’s class with their start-up funds as well so they could use that for their stalls, it also made sense that they would’ve been able to put on such a large-scale affair.

“She’s quite clever,” remarked Horikita.

“Before we even realized what was going on, she chose an option that would let her win,” I agreed.

In any case, this meant that we weren’t going to be able to get on Sakayanagi’s tail that easily. She made it look as if she was giving up on competing, but there was no doubt that she was still producing steady results.

9.1

A FTERWARD , the rest of the class was dismissed, but Horikita called some people over to the Class B classroom. They were the people who had originally planned and proposed the maid café idea, with the exception of Matsushita, who was absent due to illness.

“To tell you the truth… There’s something that I need to apologize to all of you for,” Horikita began.

“Huh? Apologize? For what?” asked Satou.

It had been a grueling day for sure, but there hadn’t been any particular instances where Horikita made a mistake from what we had seen. Since Satou and the other girls couldn’t think of anything worth apologizing for, they responded with confused looks, tilting their heads to the side.

“You remember how Ryuuen-kun spread the news about the fact we were putting on a maid café to the entire school?” asked Horikita.

“Yeah,” Satou said. “That really caused a panic, for sure.”

“Well, actually…the fact that he was going to leak that news was decided from the very beginning.”

It actually stemmed from my suggestion to Horikita that we work together with Ryuuen in some way to score even higher in the festival.

“It was ‘decided’?” repeated Maezono. “What do you mean by that?”

“Meaning that everything was planned,” Horikita explained. “Ryuuen-kun and I working together, and him betraying us. And that he would let everyone know we were doing a maid café.”

“WHAT?!” Maezono exclaimed. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

It was only natural that the girls would be surprised by this. Only Horikita and I had known the truth, after all.

“Wait, does that mean that betting Private Points was planned too?” asked Satou.

“That was Ryuuen-kun’s own arbitrary decision,” said Horikita. “He didn’t consult me. I was a little flustered, originally, when he just suddenly came out and said that.”

“I think that the main reason Ryuuen brought that whole bet thing up was because Hashimoto and other students were spying,” I added.

“Yes,” said Horikita. “Sakayanagi-san had gotten a lot of information from third parties. I’m sure she heard about our situation from intelligence agents like Hashimoto-kun. Then, Hashimoto-kun would have told her that our two classes, meaning ours and Ryuuen-kun’s, were supposed to have been cooperating with each other, but we had a dispute, and Ryuuen-kun had selfishly betrayed us.”

“So, what about that whole thing where whoever won got a million points?” asked Satou.

“Unfortunately, we also decided that no one would be handing over any points, no matter which side won,” Horikita replied. “Ryuuen-kun seemed like he was personally willing to go along with the idea, but I figure that even he’s awfully glad that we’re not actually doing it. He would’ve been terrified.”

We had hidden this fact from our classmates, including Kei. Only Horikita and I knew the truth—and no one in Ryuuen’s class, save for Ryuuen himself and Katsuragi, had been told either. Not even Ryuuen’s close associates, like Ishizaki and Albert, were an exception. So, we could only assume that Ryuuen was absolutely serious when he was saying he was going to crush us.

“His decision to launch a Japanese-style concept café to compete with us was another part of our strategy,” added Horikita. “Besides making it appear to everyone that we were facing off against each other, we did that to keep other potential competitors away.”

It was a rivalry, basically. The more exciting we made it, the more of a sense of duty the adults would feel in joining in, and the more money they’d spend. If everyone knew that both sides of the rivalry were engaged in a battle they absolutely couldn’t lose, it was only natural that they’d want the side they had a stake in to come out on top. On the other hand, the other classes and other grade levels weren’t engaged in a deathmatch. Many of the other classes wanted Class Points, obviously, but the degree of passion there was a notch or two lower compared to the battle of Horikita VS Ryuuen.

“I am very, truly sorry. Even if it was for the sake of winning, I apologize for keeping this quiet from you,” said Horikita.

Horikita had been racked with feelings of guilt this whole time, so she had wanted to tell them the truth about this matter as soon as possible. I was sure that the three girls could tell that Horikita was serious.

“Hey, it’s all right, okay? Besides, we came in first place,” said Satou cheerfully, not really criticizing Horikita over it at all. She turned to Mii-chan and Maezono for agreement. “Right, girls?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Maezono replied. “I mean, I feel like it’s not such a big deal when things turn out well.”

“Yes, you’re right,” agreed Mii-chan. “Besides, I feel like if I knew what was really going on, I might have let it show on my face…”

Mii-chan was being very honest, admitting that she wasn’t confident enough that she would have been able to pretend she didn’t know.

“Aren’t you glad, Horikita?” I said, turning to her.

“Yes, this really is a weight off my shoulders,” she said. “Oh, and you three, please go ahead and report this to Matsushita-san as well. All of you who played a key role in this café idea will be rewarded as soon as Private Points are deposited.”

“Yay!” Satou cheered.

The three girls all high-fived each other.

“So, was Chabashira-sensei dressing up as a maid also something that was decided in advance?” asked Mii-chan. “That was probably the most surprising thing to me.”

“That was seriously amazing, wasn’t it? She got the most photo requests in just an hour!” exclaimed Maezono.

“I know there’s probably a lot to talk about still, but this is all I can say for today,” Horikita said. “Really, thank you so much for everything.”

Because of their suggestion to put together a maid café, our class devised a strategy, and we were able to take first place. I was also grateful for the fact that other things we couldn’t have factored into our calculations also worked out positively for us.

After seeing the three girls off, only Horikita and I remained in the classroom. A slightly stronger gust of wind came through the open window, causing the curtains to flutter.

“Are you really sure you’re okay with this?” said Horikita. “You came up with most of the plans on your own. You could have claimed more of the credit, you know? You came up with the idea of staging the whole confrontation and having Chabashira-sensei dress as a maid. It was, undeniably, your abilities that contributed to us getting first place.”

“This was possible precisely because of the way you’ve conducted yourself as a leader, Horikita,” I replied.

“If you were still the old you…you wouldn’t have included me in these plans, would you?” muttered Horikita. She didn’t even look at me as she said it as we stood in the empty classroom.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“So, you’re not denying it.”

“Well, it’s the truth,” I said. “You already knew that, which was why you asked, right?”

“Well, I guess, sure. You might be right.”

I mean, it wasn’t like I couldn’t have forced plans along with just Ryuuen, Katsuragi, and me. However, when I came up with these ideas, I told them to Horikita, without hesitation, at the same time. Before even getting to the question of whether or not we could pull it off, I knew that we couldn’t move forward without a leader. But if Horikita completely rejected my ideas, then I would have been completely fine with not putting the plan into action.

“If it meant having an effective way to win, I wouldn’t hesitate to consider even deceiving my own allies,” I told her. “I press on when I have to, even if I’m taking on some risk in doing so. You understand?”

By having her implement this strategy herself, I made Horikita more intimately familiar with the idea, like her body was getting used to it.

“I think I might be able to understand it now,” she replied. “I get the feeling that I’m starting to see it, little by little.”

There might not have been too much of a response quite yet, but it seemed like she was definitely starting to get a feel for it.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today,” I said. “The sun’s about to set.”

“Wait… Ayanokouji-kun, there’s something I really, really need to ask you right now,” said Horikita.

I tried encouraging her to head back to the dorms, but she refused. I had a hunch that was going to happen. It was probably no coincidence that she and Ibuki were in the student council office. They must have ended up there because they were following some kind of thread that led them there.

“What is it?” I asked.

“The Cultural Festival today. That serious incident that took place behind the scenes… You didn’t—”

I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad timing, but just at that moment, my phone started to ring.

“Sorry, hold on for just a second,” I said, interrupting her.

“O-okay…”

When I looked at my phone’s screen, I saw that I had an incoming call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” I asked, answering the phone.

“Are you still at school? If you wouldn’t mind, could we talk for a little while?”

I recognized the voice that I heard on the other end of the line. It belonged to Tsubaki Sakurako from Class 1-C. I didn’t really care how she had gotten my number, but still, she was someone I didn’t usually talk to. That being said, I wasn’t too surprised to be contacted by her today.

“Are you alone right now?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” I replied.

“In that case, could we meet up?”

“Where are you?”

“Just outside the entrance. You’re still in the school building, right?”

“Give me five minutes.”

“All right.”

After finishing that short phone call, I turned to Horikita to ask if it was all right. “Sorry, but is it okay if I step away for a bit? I think I can be back in like ten or twenty minutes. Let’s continue this conversation after that.”

“Very well. I’ll be waiting here,” said Horikita.

I left the classroom after promising her that I would return. Once I was all alone again, I decided to call the person who had helped me the most today.

“The third-year students’ information network really is something else,” I said. “Whether it’s Kushida Kikyou or Hasebe Haruka, you could find anyone right away. I’m once again reminded of how powerful you are, Student Council President Nagumo.”

“Did you call me just to tell me something like that?”

“I just wanted to say thank you, more or less. You were very helpful in my searches today.”

The number of eyes Nagumo had at his disposal among the third-years, and Nagumo’s leadership of those students, were both very impressive. Those students located Haruka and Kushida very quickly.

“I never imagined that you’d take what I used on you and use it for your own advantage,” said Nagumo.

“Thank you very much for letting me know what was going on in the student council office. I was able to respond quickly, thanks to you.”

“At first, I thought that Yagami was just making it all up, but was there actually some kind of contrivance in that letter?”

“If you just read the letter normally, you would only think of it as a love letter addressed to you, President Nagumo. But it did actually contain a somewhat complicated anagram, as Yagami claimed. If you decode the anagram, you can find a message inside. ‘I have something important to discuss with you in the student council office after three o’clock.’ I also mixed in a few other words that would’ve caught his attention. If he had a strong sense of curiosity, then it would naturally have piqued his interest and he would’ve gone for it.”

There was another little twist to the love letter, aside from the anagram. Both the envelope that I used and the sticker to keep it sealed were things that could’ve been bought by anyone at any time from Keyaki Mall. If those items were purchased online or were custom-made or something, Yagami might have hesitated to read the letter, fearing that he’d leave evidence behind by looking at its contents.

However, if you were familiar with Keyaki Mall, you would’ve noticed that everything except the handwritten letterhead could easily be substituted. In that case, he could easily check the contents of the letter without hesitation. Furthermore, by personally writing the message out by hand, I could give Yagami clues via my handwriting. White Room students were given thorough penmanship lessons, which is why every one of us could write neatly.

Then, I used Kei to pass the letter I prepared to another girl, and through her, it was passed on to Horikita. She was then subtly guided into handing the letter off to Yagami, and thus unknowingly gave him time to take a look at it. Since there was a possibility Horikita might have handed the letter off directly to Nagumo, I asked Nagumo to act like he was in a bad mood that day, creating a situation where she wouldn’t have been able to give it to him immediately.

“I never imagined that he’d go wild on the island,” Nagumo said. “How much did you know?”

“I didn’t know anything. Yagami just confessed to it on his own.”

“What kind of sleight of hand did you use to make Komiya and Kinoshita point fingers at Yagami? And were the teachers showing up a coincidence too?”

“I just told them that the person at the center of the dispute that was going on outside the office might have been the one responsible. Ryuuen’s side hadn’t been able to identify the culprit yet, and they wanted a hint. I offered them a suggestion, knowing there was a risk that no one might have gone to the office, or that even if they did, nothing might happen.”

“That so? Still, I have to say that I’m skeptical about how much of what you’re telling me is the truth.”

“I’ll leave that to your imagination.”

Honestly, everything I did was trivial. It was nothing noteworthy.

“Well, whatever. You’re ready to make good on your promise now, right?” said Nagumo.

“Of course. I’m looking forward to it, President Nagumo,” I replied.

Just as I was approaching the front entrance, I ended the call with Nagumo and reached for my shoe locker.

9.2

W AS TSUBAKI all by herself at the meeting place? I thought as much for a moment, but then I noticed it looked like Utomiya was there too, talking to someone on the phone a bit further away. He looked over in my direction.

“Is this something that would’ve been difficult to convey over the phone?” I asked.

“Well, you know, the first-years are kind of in a state of chaos right now,” Tsubaki replied. “Someone got unexpectedly expelled during the Cultural Festival.”

“Someone was expelled? Wow, that sure sounds scary… Or I suppose that’s normally what someone would say in this situation, right?”

There was someone else involved in this whole expulsion fiasco today, and that was none other than Tsubaki Sakurako, the student standing before me right now.

“The results were even better than I imagined. I’m very pleased, Ayanokouji-senpai.” Tsubaki made a circle with her fingers, as if to say that I had passed the test. “I see that you successfully extracted information from Satou-senpai. And you managed to drive Yagami-kun out of school in brilliant fashion too. I’m very grateful.”

“I didn’t extract information from her,” I said. “You were the one who repeatedly made contact with Satou and slowly but surely drove her into a corner. And then, when she couldn’t take it anymore, you coordinated your efforts, threatening her, so she would have to turn to someone and confide in them about what she was going through.”

The person standing before me, Tsubaki, had been the one who had contacted Satou, as someone that Satou didn’t know or have any connection with.

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” she said teasingly, making it clear she was kidding.

Apparently, Tsubaki had approached Satou near the women’s restroom in Keyaki Mall. And there, she had hinted at the possibility of Satou changing her situation for the better, such as where she stood with my and Kei’s current relationship, thus piquing her curiosity.

“It sounds as though you called Satou to come to your room with some cheap threats, but it wasn’t actually a serious attempt on your part to control her and get her to destroy my relationship with Kei at all,” I said. “You threatened her in that way to notify me, albeit indirectly, about the situation. To spur me to take action. In other words, you wanted the situation dealt with.”

Tsubaki listened to me silently and simply stared at me, not denying anything I said.

“When I asked her for details about what was going on, the unnaturalness of the whole thing was immediately apparent to me,” I went on. “And when you saw that Satou wasn’t taking you up on your invitation, you immediately contacted her again, like you were trying to rub salt in her wounds, and you provoked her with similarly worded statements. Afterward, when you noticed that there were no signs that Satou was talking about things with anyone, you gradually intensified your threats against her, thus cornering her. Despite the fact that it was obvious that if you continued doing so, eventually, she’d talk to someone… Well, no, she’d come to me.”

Her goal wasn’t to entice Satou into doing something against me and Kei. Instead, Tsubaki was waiting for me to come to Satou’s aid.

“Then, even though she hadn’t asked, you told Satou that you were threatening her under Yagami’s orders,” I concluded.

The mentally and emotionally exhausted Satou wouldn’t have had the time or energy to even think about whether what she heard was the truth or a lie.

I had then come up with the idea of using this situation to my advantage for a personal matter and decided to call up Kei during a meeting with Satou. I had Kei confide in Satou about just about everything she had endured in the past, including the bullying she had suffered. The fact that Satou didn’t take Tsubaki up on her offer earlier convinced me that she would be an ally. As a result of all of this, Kei and Satou had elevated their relationship from friends to best friends, in the true sense. That was back on the first of November.

“That Yagami-kun really is a bad guy, isn’t he?” said Tsubaki.

“No need for the cheap theatrics,” I said. “Yagami had nothing to do with it. He wasn’t involved in what happened with Satou.”

“You don’t think it was actually done on Yagami-kun’s instructions?”

“If Yagami was using you, then it wouldn’t have been necessary for you to mention his name.”

Only the people who knew about the White Room knew about Karuizawa’s past. That was because they wouldn’t let anything slip so easily which would clue others in about their identity.

“If that were true, then on the contrary—doesn’t this all sound strange to you?” Tsubaki asked. “You knew I was trying to frame Yagami-kun, didn’t you? And yet, you did nothing to me. You even went so far as to get Yagami-kun expelled when he might have been innocent in this. Isn’t that contradictory? There was no indication that you were even investigating the matter in detail, either.”

“Yep,” I replied. “I didn’t really look into you or Yagami, not really. I didn’t even need to.”

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Sorry, but I don’t feel like talking about that any further.”

After everything I heard in this conversation so far, I was convinced that Tsubaki wasn’t the one who had manipulated everything. This situation told me that there was someone else lurking in the shadows who orchestrated all this.

“Utomiya-kun, could you come here for a second?” Tsubaki beckoned Utomiya to come over while he was still on a call and instructed him to hand the phone over to me.

Though he was wary, Utomiya handed the phone to me with the person on the other end of the line still there.

“…Here you go,” he said.

“Yagami got one of Tsubaki and Utomiya’s classmates expelled,” explained the caller. “That’s the reason why I helped the two of them.”

This was unmistakably the same young man I had talked to last year, when he stood outside my door.

“You left us alone because you understood that you could’ve put a stop to it at any time if you acted directly, right? As a result of what happened, there was an expulsion amongst the first-years. This wouldn’t have occurred if there hadn’t been any troublemakers, however.”

“I won’t deny that,” I said.

“We had no other choice but to make him leave the school so we could avoid any more unnecessary sacrifices. But even though we knew that, defeating Yagami was no simple task. We knew he was no ordinary high school student.”

“Which was why you wanted to use me.”

They had made their decision based on an understanding of the goals and the obsession of a White Room student.

“It seems like you received my message.”

“Basically, there would be contact with someone close to me. And when that happened, someone would be expelled. Right?”

“That’s right. But still, wow—to drive Yagami into a corner and actually get him expelled all in one go? That was a bit beyond my calculations. Did you not consider the possibility that Yagami wasn’t involved at all?”

“Whether or not he got expelled depended on Yagami’s choices,” I explained. “It wasn’t up to me to decide whether he was guilty or not. Just like he got that student from Class 1-C expelled, he was playing with fire in all sorts of other ways too. He contacted Kushida Kikyou under false pretenses, posing as an underclassman from her old school. He tried to use the information he was given to control her and use her as a pawn. Then, there was engaging in an act of provocation by seriously injuring totally unrelated students on the uninhabited island, as well as selfishly checking the contents of a love letter addressed to someone else while suspecting it was a trap. I don’t know why Horikita and Ibuki were there to see him, but I’d say that too was another instance of Yagami playing with fire.”

People wouldn’t normally look at someone else’s love letters. And even if they did, they wouldn’t pick up on an anagram that was scattered throughout the text.

“So everything was connected,” said the caller.

“Even if he hadn’t left any clear evidence behind, the more tricks someone plays, the more traces there will be. He didn’t realize that he was slowly strangling himself with his own two hands.”

“It’s certainly true that if Yagami hadn’t done anything, he wouldn’t have ended up expelled.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I agreed.

All of those instances of Yagami playing with fire up until now had led to this result. If he hadn’t angered this young man I was speaking to on the phone, I wouldn’t have acted against Yagami in the first place. If he hadn’t gotten in contact with Kushida, or caused those students’ serious injuries on the island, then expulsion wouldn’t have been on the table. If he hadn’t read the contents of the love letter, he wouldn’t have ended up in a situation where he would be questioned so aggressively.

“The only reason why Yagami was expelled was because he himself admitted to being guilty. That’s all,” I concluded.

All I did was set the stage so that I could watch what would happen. Nothing more. If he was totally innocent, there probably wouldn’t have been any fuss in the first place. It was because he knew about me, and because he was so clever, that he went to the student council office at all.

“It seems you’re as good as people say,” remarked the caller.

“While I’ve got you on the phone, there’s something I wanted to check with you,” I said. “Do you remember what you told me before? Something about how I shouldn’t think that getting rid of the obstacles in my way alone would bring me peace. That was a bluff, wasn’t it? You wanted to create a feeling of urgency in me so I’d believe that if I didn’t deal with things right away, the situation would get even more difficult.”

The mystery caller did that in order to get me to act, resulting in Yagami being expelled at this stage.

“Ayanokouji-sensei was right to choose this school,” the caller said.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I’m going to enjoy my life here at this school. As long as the first-years and second-years don’t have any conflicts with each other, let’s bring our relationship to an end here.”

With that, having said what he wanted to say, he hung up. When I snuck a peek at the screen, I saw that the caller’s information had been intentionally blocked. The caller must have done that because he didn’t want me to realize who he was, based on the phone number or email address that Utomiya had registered for him.

“You understand a lot more now, right?” said Tsubaki.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“At first, when my classmate was expelled, I thought that Housen-kun was involved,” she said. “But recently, I was told that it was Yagami-kun.”

Yagami had incredible latent potential, but he was tripped up by his own arrogance. He only saw me; he wasn’t even looking at the rivals standing on the same stage as him. It seemed as though Yagami wasn’t a welcome presence in the first-year students’ battle.

“Don’t give up now just because you avenged your classmate and defeated your enemy,” I told her.

“I know. To be honest, I wasn’t very attached to this school at first, but… It’s a little different now. This place is surprisingly fun.”

Considering the conversation we had just now, I understood that there were more various thoughts and feelings there, aside from simply wanting to get revenge on an enemy.

“And with that, we’ll be going now,” announced Tsubaki.

“…Please excuse me,” added Utomiya, forcing himself to address me politely. Then, together with Tsubaki, they headed back to the dormitories.

“Guess I need to head back to the classroom,” I muttered aloud.

9.3

M Y CONVERSATION WITH TSUBAKI concluded, I made my way back to the classroom. On my way there, I happened across an exhausted, haggard-looking Chabashira-sensei.

“Great work out there today,” I told her. “You really performed splendidly.”

“What exactly did I do a great job on?” She shot me a childish glare, making no attempt to even mask it. She was clearly angry.

“Did you hate wearing a maid outfit that much?” I asked.

I already knew the answer, and when I asked her that question, her shoulders twitched.

“When I got back to the faculty lounge, I saw pictures of me on teachers’ desks all over the room,” she snapped. “And that’s not all. Do you have any idea how many teachers accosted me in this short period of time after the festival? How many times people talked to me about the maid outfit? Or even how humiliated I was? To be completely honest, right now, my deepest, most sincere wish is to just transform into a shellfish.”

I figured that it must have been a very difficult experience for her, considering the intense pressure she was feeling.

“Well, that’s…not something I would know anything about,” I said. “I guess that goes to show how popular you are.”

“I am, absolutely and unequivocally, not a popular person,” Chabashira-sensei shot back. “What you did was entirely unnecessary.”

If she seriously thought she wasn’t popular at all, then she was going to be in for some hardship in the future. I was sure that there were more than a few adults who appreciated Chabashira-sensei as a member of the opposite sex now, even if those feelings hadn’t been brought to the surface previously.

“Well, it’s all over and done with, anyway,” I said. “Our class won first place. Isn’t that good?”

“No, it’s not all good. Besides, you would’ve hit the highest reward bracket for sure, even if I hadn’t done anything.”

“I suppose you’re right about that. But first place does look better than second or third, doesn’t it?”

“It’s so unlike you to say something like that… Ugh.” She swallowed hard and then restrained herself, perhaps because she felt like there wasn’t any point in taking me to task over it any further. “At any rate, I never would have guessed that you’d be cooperating with Ryuuen’s class under the guise of a competition against them.”

“If it’s just one class fighting alone, then they could have up to forty people on their side at most,” I said. “But if you have two classes join forces, that means you have twice as many people in your ranks. Surprisingly enough, that’s really nothing to scoff at.”

Besides, even if we weren’t officially working together on the surface, we didn’t necessarily need to work on advertising our own offerings. If you have a lot of people get together, even in different ways, we could put on an even better act, without having to spend a lot of money.

“Even in the faculty room, people were rather surprised,” Chabashira-sensei said. “Everyone thought you were having an honest-to-goodness showdown.”

She only mentioned what happened during the Cultural Festival and didn’t touch on Yagami’s expulsion. Even though she should know about it as a teacher, it was a matter of the first-year classes and thus not her purview. She wasn’t talking about it with me because she thought it didn’t concern me. In that regard, as a teacher at this school, she was making the right decision.

“By the way, shouldn’t you be heading back to the dormitory now?” asked Chabashira-sensei.

“Horikita’s waiting for me in the classroom. What about you? Are you working late?”

“I’m making the rounds throughout campus. We received several missing item reports from guests who forgot things here.”

Even after the Cultural Festival was over, the teachers were still dealing with the aftermath.

9.4

W HEN I RETURNED to the classroom together with Chabashira-sensei, I saw Horikita resting her upper body on her desk, as though she were taking a nap. Chabashira-sensei and I briefly exchanged looks with one another and decided to not call out to her. I drew closer just to be sure, and I saw that she was asleep after all. A strong breeze was coming in through the open window. For a moment, I wondered if I should cover her with her school uniform jacket, but I thought better of it. I felt like Horikita wouldn’t be too pleased if she later found out that I had gotten too close to her.

“Mm…” she mumbled.

Hm? For a second, I thought she had woken up, but apparently not.

“No…”

She was talking in her sleep. I was a little surprised because what she said sounded somewhat concerning. I figured that Horikita, too, was exhausted after today. I closed the window quietly so she wouldn’t catch a cold and then walked back out into the hallway.

“I decided to let her sleep a little longer,” I told Chabashira-sensei.

“You’re not going to wait for her to wake up?”

“She got first place in the Cultural Festival. I’d say that’s the least I can do.” She’ll be up soon enough, anyway.

“You should head on back already,” Chabashira-sensei said. “I’ll take over here.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” I asked.

“I figure that it’s nice to show some appreciation to the person helping out behind the scenes too.”

“In that case, I’ll take you up on your generous offer,” I replied.

“But you better listen here, Ayanokouji. Don’t you dare come up with another strategy to humiliate me like this ever again. Okay?”

“You’re still bothered by it?”

It took Chabashira-sensei a moment to reply. “Let’s just say that today has been a day that I will never, ever forget, for as long as I live.”

“Well… Anyway, thank you for your hard work today, Chabashira-sensei. This too will become a good memory someday.”

“Students shouldn’t say such impudent things.” She shot me a glare, but then let out a sigh and leaned against the classroom door.

Well then, I suppose I should be heading on back, I thought to myself.

Class Point Totals as of the End of the November Cultural Festival

Class A, led by Sakayanagi: 1,201

Class B, led by Horikita: 966

Class C, led by Ryuuen: 740

Class D, led by Ichinose: 675