Chapter 5: School Trip Day Three

Chapter 5: School Trip Day Three

Chapter 5:

School Trip Day Three

T HE BUS HAD DEPARTED the ryokan at nine o’clock that morning. Just under fifty minutes later, it stopped near Sapporo Station, and thus we arrived at our destination, marking the beginning of our day. The Sapporo Clock Tower was nearby, and this area was lined with various other spots that were perfect for sightseeing.

We were supposed to go around in our individual groups yet again, but there was one difference from how things were yesterday: a little test implemented by the school.

Within a time limit, before 5 p.m., we were to visit a total of six spots, in any order, out of a predetermined list of fifteen destinations. For a group to have their visit recognized as official, they had to take a commemorative photograph with the entire group present at a designated photography location at each spot. We had to repeat that process six times. So, groups that allowed their members to split up in an effort to get more points, as well as groups comprised of students who didn’t bring along their phones and selfishly did their own thing, wouldn’t be able to complete the task.

You would only fail this test if you visited fewer than six spots before the time limit was up. In that case, you would be deprived of your free time on the fourth day of the trip, and you’d attend a study hall which was going to be held at the ryokan until 4 p.m. on that day. Each spot was also assigned a point value. Groups that achieved a total of twenty points or more would be rewarded, with each individual member winning 30,000 Private Points. However, since scores didn’t have an impact on whether we actually passed the test, it was up to the groups to decide whether or not to shoot for the reward.

If the photo wasn’t clear, and you couldn’t identify the people in the shot, it wouldn’t be counted. Whether students wanted to go for the reward was another matter, but if students wanted to enjoy their free time tomorrow to the fullest, they needed to take this test seriously and cooperate with one another to visit the destinations. There were no restrictions on things like the number of times we could use public transportation, but we were prohibited from using taxis. It was also necessary for us to keep a record of how we got to each spot.

I was sure that the students would have been happier to have received free time on our third day, but personally, I didn’t think walking around Hokkaido under the conditions set by the school was so bad. If the students were simply given free time to do whatever they wanted, the school trip would’ve likely ended with only limited sightseeing and skiing. I was genuinely looking forward to exploring Hokkaido within the restrictions the school had set.

Once we got off the bus, we were handed a pamphlet. This pamphlet, which was a unique one designed by our school, described the spots that we were to visit. Sapporo Clock Tower, Sapporo TV Tower, and the Hokkaido Museum of Modern Art were each worth one point. Nakajima Park and Hokkaido Jingu were worth two points. Sapporo Maruyama Zoo, the Hokkaido Museum, and the Sapporo Central Wholesale Market Curb Market were worth three points each. Moerenuma Park and Shiroi Koibito Park were both worth four points. Mount Moiwa was worth five points. Sunpiazza Aquarium was worth six points. Jozankei Onsen was worth seven points. And finally, Lake Shikotsu and Lake Utonai were both worth eight points.

It was necessary to remember that just getting to a spot wasn’t enough. For instance, in the case of Sapporo Maruyama Zoo, we needed to enter the zoo and take a photograph with the polar bears, or take a picture with the polar bear pavilion in the background, to mark the location as complete.

“This is kind of a surprise,” Kushida said to me after we got off the bus. “Well, I suppose it is fitting for this school, but…”

For some reason, though, she was gazing far off into the distance.

“I’m over here,” I said.

“Oh, sorry. I had no idea.” There was no way that should’ve been possible, and she wasn’t even looking at me when she said that, either. Perhaps she herself was keenly aware of how unnatural it all was, because now she turned her head and smiled at me.

“It’d really hurt to lose an entire day to studying if we don’t do this properly,” she said. “I guess the reason they let us have a whole day of free time yesterday without any restrictions probably has something to do with the sightseeing tour today.”

“You might be right about that.”

Now, the question was, what choices would our group—group six—make? The fact that we’d be going around sightseeing itself had been explained to us before we left for the school trip, but it was only on the bus on the way over that we had been told about how this was set up a little like an exam, with free time at stake and Private Points as a reward. Meaning, in other words, that we still hadn’t had the opportunity to establish what our group’s policy would be.

It was conceivable that groups who aimed for the Private Point reward might not finish the test in time, so risks were unavoidable. While some groups seemed to stay put and discuss, most started walking, and in the same direction.

“It looks like a lot of groups are heading to Sapporo Clock Tower first, since it’s just a stone’s throw from here,” observed Kushida.

We could consider focusing on places with high point values, like Lake Shikotsu and Lake Utonai, but that would be a high-risk strategy.

“And because it’s more efficient to discuss while walking, too,” I added.

Just like Kushida had said, the safest bet would be to go from Sapporo Station to the clock tower, and then, after taking a picture at the designated spot, heading over to the TV tower via Odori Park. You could hit two spots in a short amount of time, and without spending any money. However, it was unclear at the moment whether that would be the ideal scenario if you were shooting for twenty or more points.

By now, all eight people from group six had finished getting off the bus.

“I did a quick search on the map app just now,” Amikura said, “and even if we were able to use a taxi, it seems like it’d take several hours for us to hit six locations with high point values.”

I was sure that Amikura hadn’t taken things like the time needed to reach the designated photo spot for each of the locations into account in her calculations, either. Even if we were to make full use of public transportation, it would likely be impossible for us to hit only high-scoring locations within the time limit.

“Anybody here familiar with Hokkaido?” Watanabe posed his question to the entirety of group six, but he didn’t get any favorable responses.

I, like the other students, had no knowledge of things like how to get around Hokkaido or the most efficient means to do so, which meant we’d have to do some research to find out the answer to those questions.

“Hrmm. Even if I try and make a route with the map app, I don’t really know where to go, so the order gets all jumbled up.” It seemed like Amikura was struggling with the map app, trying to enter the appropriate locations. Since the spots were scattered in all directions, to the east, west, south, and north of our current location, you would need to start by having an understanding of the relationship of the positions. On top of that, there was no guarantee that public transportation would necessarily be available at each spot, nor that the school hadn’t been mean-spirited, including some very difficult-to-reach spots in the list of places marked in our pamphlets.

“Well, even if we can get Private Points, it’s just thirty thousand,” Watanabe said. “Since we’re here and have the chance to do some sightseeing, why don’t we just forget about the reward and enjoy ourselves?”

Watanabe’s suggestion was one correct answer. If we focused only on scoring twenty points within the time limit, our enjoyment of our sightseeing tour would be cut in half. We wouldn’t have the time to take it easy, relax, and enjoy what each location had to offer.

“Basically, I guess I’m firmly in the camp of ‘Let’s not push ourselves too hard on this,’” added Watanabe.

“I agree. I think it’d be better if we just go to places we each actually want to go to. Like, I want to go to the zoo and stuff , ” said Amikura.

We students spent our day-to-day lives on campus, so we didn’t normally get the opportunity to visit zoos, aquariums, and the like. It was only natural not to want to waste the opportunity, since we were here.

“Let’s hear everyone’s opinions on where they’d like to go and work from there.” Amikura suggested.

Six of us, me included, quickly agreed with the idea of giving up the points and instead focusing on leisurely hitting the minimum number of spots. However, this was a matter that needed to be discussed by everyone in the group to reach a decision. Kitou and Ryuuen were the only two remaining who hadn’t yet said if they agreed or disagreed with the idea.

“Kitou, what do you think?” Watanabe turned to check with Kitou, who had been completely silent this whole time.

“No objections,” said Kitou.

After getting a favorable response upon asking Kitou, a wave of relief seemed to wash over Watanabe and the others—for the time being, anyway. That made seven. And the final person, Ryuuen… His answer…still had not come.

“Um… Hey, uh…” Watanabe seemed to be struggling to ask, so I decided to speak up and get Ryuuen’s answer.

“Me and everyone else here share the same opinion,” I said. “Can we take your silence to mean you also agree with us?”

However, Ryuuen had declared to me that he was going to save up eight hundred million points, so his answer was obvious.

“We’re going for the points,” he said.

It was a simple response. Ryuuen was going to stand against the seven of us, in other words. Of course, we as individuals were each free to think about how we were going to visit these locations. Some groups were likely going to prioritize certain locations for the Private Points. However, additional discussion was going to be needed if opinions were split like this. Watanabe was even more frightened than before, so I followed up on my previous question and asked Ryuuen another.

“Can I ask the reason why?”

“Ain’t it obvious? Private Points. I can’t think of ’em as ‘just’ 30,000 points,” said Ryuuen.

With two people from each class in the group, each class could get 60,000 Private Points. It might’ve sounded like nothing but dust if you compared that to eight hundred million, but the truth was it was still one steady step forward.

“There ain’t no reason not to grab the points that are right in front of your face,” Ryuuen snarled. “So, just shut up and follow me.”

Although there was a risk of not visiting enough sightseeing locations in time, or not getting enough points due to mismanagement, fundamentally speaking, there weren’t any downsides to the idea of going for the reward; there were only positives. If you followed the rules and successfully hit enough locations, you would receive Private Points from the school. And it was also true that doing something that meant not getting points you could have earned would, in itself, be a loss.

However, there was no way that Kitou was just going to stay silent and ignore Ryuuen’s heavy-handed behavior overruling the opinion of the seven of us.

“You’re telling all of us to follow you, to satisfy you?” asked Kitou.

“Yeah. Got a problem with that?” said Ryuuen.

“Your way of doing things ignores democracy,” Kitou said. “I think this is an issue that should be decided by majority vote.”

“Like I care,” Ryuuen snorted. “When the hell did this group become a democracy or whatever?”

“I’m not convinced that you could be this fixated on such a paltry sum in the first place. In fact, there’s no way I can believe that.”

“In that case, what do you think it is, huh?” asked Ryuuen.

I had lost count of how many times this sort of thing had happened by now. As Ryuuen and Kitou clashed, no one else could interject.

“I can only think that you don’t like how the group came to an agreement, so you said something just to stir things up,” said Kitou.

“I see,” Ryuuen said. “That might be true, yeah. I mean, seein’ that disgruntled look on your face ain’t bad.”

If we let these two continue to talk on their own, we’d soon be heading into dangerous territory.

“We need some Private Points to even use public transportation anyway,” Kitou pointed out. “If you subtract those from your winnings, you won’t be left with thirty thousand Private Points per person in the end. Even so, you still want to do it?”

We didn’t know the precise cost at this point, but we would need to spend some money on transit.

“Even so, yeah. Hypothetically, even if the reward’s closer to twenty thou, I ain’t planning on givin’ it up.”

I realized now that we were the only group still near the bus.

“And while we’re debatin’ like this, your precious time’s bein’ wasted. You know that, don’t ya, Kitou?”

Ryuuen was exerting pressure, essentially telling Kitou and the rest, “Get on with it already, and find me a good route to do this.” Of course, there was no way that Kitou was going to just quietly stand back and listen to Ryuuen’s incendiary comments, which were akin to pouring oil on a fire.

“I refuse to let you have your way,” Kitou snapped. “If you’re planning to stubbornly persist in going after the Private Points and ignore everyone else’s opinion on the matter, then I have no intention of helping you go to the locations. Meaning, in other words, that not only will you not be getting any Private Points, your free time tomorrow will inevitably be taken away from you.”

From the sounds of it, Kitou intended to oppose him completely, assuring Ryuuen that he had no intention of accepting his wishes. Thus, he’d protested strongly.

“Heh heh. You’re gonna be the one in the minority here, Kitou. Everyone else’ll have no choice but to follow me anyway, once the clock starts ticking,” said Ryuuen.

Did this mean we were about to start a battle of wills between these two, which wasn’t going to do anyone any good anyway? The easiest way of getting the unyielding Ryuuen to act would be to steer the group toward collecting Private Points. For six of the people here, getting 30,000 points wouldn’t be a bad deal, and it wasn’t as though the idea of going for the points only came with disadvantages. Besides, if everyone was guaranteed to get their free time tomorrow, they could make up for the lack of sightseeing today. If six people in our group, excluding Kitou, leaned toward going with Ryuuen, then that would be the majority opinion.

“Even if you force everyone to go along with your plan, I will not,” stated Kitou.

If that happened, then it would make Kitou into the bad guy, standing one against seven.

“So, you’re sayin’ that if you threaten me with ruinin’ this whole group by yourself, that might be enough to get me to give up on the money?” asked Ryuuen.

“I certainly hope so.” Kitou showed no signs of faltering, as though he were saying that he was accustomed to playing the part of the villain.

Even Watanabe, who had been shivering in fear up until this point, had no other choice but to interject. “H-hey, calm down, Kitou. If it’s gonna mean wasting our free time, then I’m sure even you’d…!”

“In that case, talk Ryuuen out of it,” said Kitou.

“Uh…” Watanabe looked like he was at his wits’ end, unsure of what to do here. “I-I’ve got it! Nishino! You’re his classmate—why don’t you tell Ryuuen off?”

“Yeah, telling him off would be simple enough, but there’s no way that’ll get him to change his mind,” Nishino sighed. “I’m not going to do anything pointless.”

I had supposed that Nishino, having been around Ryuuen for a long time now, could tell what the outcome would be if she tried something like that. Now that it had come to this, there was a feeling in the air that we should all just give in already, since there was nothing we could do anyway. Just then, Kushida tugged my arm, pulling me aside.

“…Hey, do you have a second…? What do you think we should do?” she whispered.

“I’d thought that going along with Ryuuen would be acceptable, but it looks like Kitou’s not budging an inch,” I said. “But if we stand with Kitou, Ryuuen won’t back down either. They’re really a selfish pair, the both of them.”

Both of their worst sides were showing—or rather, the two of them were each bringing out the worst in each other.

“It’s not like we don’t have a solution at all, though,” I added.

“Really?” asked Kushida.

“It’s just that I wouldn’t recommend it, if at all possible.”

“Can you at least tell me what it is?”

“What Ryuuen wants are Private Points, so to him, sightseeing is unnecessary. On the other hand, the seven of us want to go to places we want to visit and enjoy the sights. Kitou is included among us seven, naturally, since his opinion is similar to ours.”

“Yes. We do have a conflict of interests, then.”

“In that case, the seven of us can just use our own money to solve things. Kitou will likely oppose that, though, so realistically, probably just six of us. If us six each scrape together five thousand Private Points individually and offer those to Ryuuen, he won’t have any complaints then, will he?”

“Ah, I see, so there’s that solution…”

But this was Ryuuen we were talking about, so he might not be satisfied with us just paying him 30,000 points ourselves. I continued whispering to Kushida, explaining the risks to her. If our group received the reward, that would mean each class would effectively gain 60,000 Private Points. Which meant that he would, at the very least, demand to collect the 30,000 points that Nishino would get, as someone from the same class as him.

If Nishino refused to give up her points, though, Ryuuen would continue to demand them from everyone else, so that he would get the equivalent of her share. If that happened, it meant that the five of us would be losing 60,000 Private Points collectively, or 12,000 points per person from all five together. There would likely be resistance to the idea of paying that much just to enjoy sightseeing.

“Yeah,” said Kushida, “that’s certainly not cheap…”

Originally this was supposed to be a sightseeing tour where we’d only be gaining something, but now, it looked like it would be nothing but a loss. I was starting to doubt whether we’d actually be able to enjoy sightseeing at all anymore. We would only be setting ourselves up as a bad example as a group if the majority were to give in to a loud, forceful minority.

“And, in the worst-case scenario, we’d have to consider the risk of him asking for even more beyond that,” I added.

“Huh?” said Kushida. “That’s so incredibly ridicul… Actually, yeah, knowing him, he would…”

“That’s what I mean.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say, Ayanokouji-kun. That’s why you don’t recommend it.”

“It’s best that we get everyone to come together without any cheap trickery,” I replied.

“It’s not that easy for us to just have a peaceful discussion, though. Or rather, it’s impossible, isn’t it?” said Kushida.

Indeed, it was difficult to imagine either Ryuuen or Kitou backing down that easily, and it was inevitable that we’d be forced to do nothing.

“I’ve got it,” Kushida said. “How about we tell them that it’s basically a test of patience at this point? We’d have to push ourselves pretty hard to collect twenty or more points, right? If we spend another thirty minutes or an hour here, it’ll be even more difficult to justify.”

So, a strategy to get them to use up the extra time that Ryuuen would need to score points at the locations? Still, even that choice was fraught with issues.

“Even if Ryuuen decides that he won’t have enough time to go for the points, there’s no guarantee that he’ll just quietly, obediently go along with visiting the locations and enjoy sightseeing with us afterward,” I replied. “In the end, everything will come crashing down. Tomorrow’s free time will be taken away from us.”

“Ah… Yeah, I see. I suppose that’s the obvious conclusion, yes,” she conceded.

There were many options that we couldn’t choose here. We had no choice but to be prepared for some degree of risk and somehow try to get everyone to come together.

“I don’t want to throw away this precious day, either,” I said. “We have no choice but to bear some pain if we’re going to get things moving.”

“…What are you going to do?” Kushida asked.

I had come to a conclusion…but before getting to that, I’d noticed something else important. Even though we were standing here together to avoid being overheard by the others, I had been close to Kushida alone for far too long. The fact that Kushida and I had clearly been engaging in a secret conversation, just the two of us, was becoming even more blatantly apparent.

“Hey, you, uh…you’re going out with Karuizawa, right?” Watanabe was glaring a bit. Even Amikura had a not-so-pleased look on her face.

“We were having a strategy meeting,” I explained. “Right, Kushida?”

“Of course,” agreed Kushida. “Ayanokouji-kun and I had just come to an agreement. Right?”

With that, Kushida quickly put a great deal of distance between us. It was an exaggerated action, like a blatant show of wanting to get away from someone she despised, and it certainly didn’t feel very pleasant to me. But it seemed to convince Watanabe and Amikura, so I supposed it was the correct thing to do.

After gathering my bearings, I walked on over to Kitou, who had been glaring this whole time, and Ryuuen, who had been looking down at his phone without a care in the world. Then, I turned my back to them and faced the five others.

“I’d like to confirm something with everyone in our group, with the exception of Ryuuen and Kitou,” I announced. “I want to double-check what our opinions are at this point in time. Do we prioritize sightseeing, or do we prioritize Private Points? If anyone here has changed their mind and now wants the latter option, please raise your hand. You don’t need to worry about everyone else right now, just indicate what your personal intention is.”

Watanabe and the rest looked at each other, but no one seemed to be raising their hands. I could tell from their demeanor that none of them were keeping their hands down just because they felt like they had to. In other words, no one agreed with the idea of prioritizing the spots that had high point values.

“So what?” Ryuuen scoffed. “No matter what you say, Ayanokouji, I ain’t changin’ my mind here.”

I know you don’t care, even if you don’t have any allies to support you, I thought to myself.

I briefly looked back at Ryuuen. “Sorry, but I want to talk to the other five people now,” I told him.

I immediately looked away from him, continuing my conversation with the five others in the group. “Now that we’re in this situation, I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s no way the eight of us can come together on this, and discussing it would be a waste of time.”

“So, what are you saying we do, then? Go with Ryuuen?” Speaking as one of the people who wanted to go sightseeing, even Nishino made no attempt to hide her discontent.

“No, I’m not saying that. Individual opinions should be respected to the greatest extent possible, but as a member of this group, his voice is only one-eighth. So, that’s how it must be. Kitou, who opposes Ryuuen, is also just one-eighth. Even if we’re not factoring my opinion into the mix here, the five of you make up five-eighths; therefore, you are the majority.”

“Yeah, we know that,” said Nishino. “But aren’t we still in trouble if we can’t talk it out and come to an agreement? Whether we’re talking one-eighth, or five-eighths, or whatever, we all have to make the same choice, and we all have to move forward.”

“You’re right,” I said. “It’s just that it is, without a doubt, the five of you who have the right to decide what to do in this situation. If you can’t agree with Ryuuen’s methods or his way of thinking, you don’t have to obey him. In other words, you can make him abandon the choice to go for the Private Points. We can all throw out the idea of going to spots for points right now and just go sightseeing on our own, at our leisure,” I announced.

“…So, you’re saying that we throw away our free time tomorrow?” asked Nishino.

“That’s correct. Besides, even if we do what Ryuuen wants now, there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to go to the places we want to go as a group during our free time tomorrow anyway. If someone says that they won’t leave the ryokan, then at that point, our group won’t be able to go out anywhere. On the other hand, our freedom today is guaranteed.”

“But just until five o’clock, right?” said Nishino.

“Not so,” I said. “We only have to be done with our sightseeing by five if we’re planning on having free time tomorrow. Technically, we have the right to do as we please until nine o’clock, our curfew, when we have to be back at the ryokan. Moreover, we can do whatever we like individually, too. We could even go around and each go and hang out with other groups that our friends are in. The school can’t even criticize us over it if we do that.”

We would be giving up our fourth day in exchange for making the third day one of complete freedom, which was something no one else could do. That was the absolute right only given to these five.

“I just want you to keep in mind that it’s not Ryuuen or Kitou who decides what we’re going to do,” I added.

“…Yes, you’re right,” said Kushida. She looked into the eyes of our group mates and was certain that they all shared the same opinion, without the need for any extraneous conversation.

“Ryuuen-kun, we are not going to go for the Private Points after all,” she said. “Today, we want to talk about where we want to go, and we want to have an enjoyable day. If you can’t agree to that, then we’ll probably just split up here and go our separate ways. As for what happens after that, well, it will go exactly as Ayanokouji-kun said. Maybe we can all get along during the study hall tomorrow, in that case.”

Nishino smiled at hearing those words, and then Amikura, Watanabe, and even Yamamura nodded, prepared for whatever might come. Almost as if in response, the corners of Kitou’s lips curved up ever so slightly into a smile.

“A good proposal. Count me in,” he said.

Up until this point, Kitou had just been rebelling against Ryuuen out of defiance toward him, but now he sided with the five other students, as an ally. Now that everyone had come to this conclusion, the ball was officially in Ryuuen’s court for the first time. Would he agree with Kushida and the others and give up on the Private Points? Or would he resist, causing the group to disband? In any case, he wouldn’t get the Private Points he wanted. On the contrary, he’d even get stuck with study hall tomorrow as an added bonus.

“You went and did somethin’ unnecessary there, Ayanokouji,” said Ryuuen. He had verbally expressed his dissatisfaction, but he didn’t look like he was actually unhappy with this. To everyone around him, it just looked like he was simply putting up a tough front. “Yeah, I don’t wanna study after comin’ all this way for a trip. I’ll play along.”

I had considered that there might be some degree of resistance, but Ryuuen backed down. If he could still have gotten Private Points even if we were acting separately, then he would’ve split off without hesitation, but he avoided trouble when he knew there was nothing to gain from it.

So decided, we—group six—followed the school’s instructions and went on a proper sightseeing trip, visiting different spots around the city and stopping by the zoo, which we had wanted to go to. In the end, we collected fewer than twenty points, but it was a meaningful trip, and one that left us all satisfied.

5.1

D AY THREE, DINNER . We’d had Japanese-style cuisine for breakfast and dinner for the previous two days, traditional meals that were brought out in courses, but starting this evening and until breakfast the day after tomorrow, when we’d be returning to the school, the menu changed, instead featuring an all-you-can-eat buffet. This was, of course, the first time I had ever experienced an all-you-can-eat meal in my life. As for the meals, just like how things went yesterday, we could freely eat anywhere we wanted, taking any available seat, without having to worry about being all together as a group.

Many students were already crowded together, trays in hand, walking around. Kei was hanging out with a bunch of girls today, and they were so loud that I could hear their laughter from across the dining hall at times. Since I was allowed to be on my own without worry right now, I decided to watch the students around me, to learn the rules of how this all worked. The process seemed to be that you’d take one of the trays from the stack and move along a predetermined route where you’d freely choose whatever assortment of dishes you wished, placing any combination of things on your tray.

First, I would take a salad bowl, and put in lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles, and so on. There were five types of dressing available that you could choose from, so I decided to go with the onion dressing.

“…Interesting,” I muttered.

Unlike meals that were already predetermined, making your own specific choices on what you had heightened the sense of individuality. Without realizing it, I ended up reaching for foods based on striking up a nutritional balance. On the other hand, the other students around me really varied in what they were taking, with some students loading up their trays based on what others in their group had, and some students loading up on lots of different kinds of foods in small quantities. As I followed the line down, continuing on to the side dishes, more students began to queue up behind me, one after another.

I had thought that, since it was still somewhat early in the dinner hour, there might not be that many students here quite yet, but it was the opposite. Apparently, there were more students who wanted to get in around the time that the buffet opened.

Although the buffet was mainly stocked with Japanese food, there were things like steak, shumai, corn soup, and so on.

Just as I was trying to find a seat after I had gotten everything I wanted from the buffet, I was approached by Ishizaki, who appeared empty-handed.

“Yo, Ayanokouji. Hey, you plannin’ on eatin’ alone or somethin’?”

“That’s what I was planning, yes.”

“Mmkay, then come eat with me,” he said. “I told Nishino to come over too just a minute ago, since she was on her own. It’s lonely eatin’ by yourself, ain’t it?”

“No, it’s… Well, I suppose you’re right.”

I didn’t have any particular reason to turn him down, so I figured it’d probably be better to just take Ishizaki up on his act of kindness. As I followed Ishizaki to our seats, Nishino spotted us and waved us over. Albert was there, too, and I had the feeling he was looking at me through his sunglasses. I sat down next to a tray loaded up with a mountain of food, which seemed to belong to Ishizaki.

“Anyway, there’s still somethin’ I gotta go get real quick,” Ishizaki said. “You guys go ahead and start eatin’.”

So, that must have been the reason why he was empty-handed when he called out to me, then. He was on his way to get something. Ishizaki, humming, went back to the buffet.

“You got brought over thanks to Ishizaki’s meddling too, huh?” I remarked.

“I refused, but he was insistent,” said Nishino.

“I guess he’s the type of person who can’t leave his friends alone,” I said.

“I guess,” Nishino said. “He was kind of down in the dumps and broody when we started school, though, and a lot touchier.”

It was true that, these days, I envisioned him as this cheerful guy, but I supposed he might not have been the same when he started school. I had hardly ever interacted with him, though, so if I was being honest, he hadn’t really left a major impression on me.

“He seemed to hate Ryuuen at the start, too, so maybe he had a rebellious attitude,” said Nishino.

I’d never seen Ishizaki like that, because he’d suppressed it now, but I guessed that was how he’d originally been. If you wanted to talk about someone who gave me the impression that they’d sort of remained the same all this time, though, that would have to be Albert, who was eating in silence. He held his chopsticks dexterously in his big hands.

“All right, my dudes!” Ishizaki announced. “I brought crab! Tons and tons of crab!”

Now that he’d returned, Ishizaki set down his tray with a heaping plate on it, and on that plate was an overflowing mountain of crab. Some crab legs fell off onto the tray due to the sheer momentum as he slammed the plate down.

“…That’s an incredible amount,” I remarked.

“Dude, someone says ‘Hokkaido,’ you think, ‘crab,’ am I right?” he said. “I’ve been dyin’ to get some crab, so I scooped ’em up in a hurry.”

“You really are totally crude, aren’t you?” said Nishino.

It was certainly true that, among the various dishes offered on the buffet menu, many students flocked to the crab. I didn’t want to get mixed up in the crowd, so I gave up on trying to get any during my first pass.

“Whaddya mean, crude? It’s a smorgasbord, dude! That means we can take all we want!” Ishizaki’s personal opinion seemed to be that, if you didn’t take it, you’d lose it.

“First of all, the word ‘smorgasbord’ is the lamest thing ever, so could you stop?” said Nishino.

“Huh? Well what else am I s’posed to call it?” asked Ishizaki.

“You say ‘buffet,’” Nishino said. “It’s a buffet.”

“Boo-fay?” he repeated. “Nah, come on, now that sounds lame, don’tcha think? Seriously, what’s that even s’posed to mean?”

There did seem to be differences in the terminology, and, well, if one was to be precise, it seemed like there were differences in the rules between how a smorgasbord and a buffet worked, but it looked like Nishino was more bothered by the heaping plate of crab than that.

“…Well, anyway, who cares about the details?” Ishizaki said. “I’ve totally been lookin’ forward to the smorgasbord.”

“…Have you considered other people? Crab is one of the main dishes, y’know,” said Nishino.

“Say what? If I worried about that, then other people’d snatch it all up. Besides, it’s all-you-can-eat, so I’m sure they got plenty.”

Well, I had to admit there was at least some degree of truth to that. Ishizaki, having just come back from the buffet line, pointed over to where a chef was hurriedly replenishing the supply of boiled crab. Even in the worst-case scenario, if Ishizaki were to say he was going to eat it all, we had no right to stop him.

“Ugh, you’re impossible.” Nishino averted her eyes from Ishizaki, scooping up some chawanmushi and bringing the spoon to her mouth.

As for Albert, eating in silence next to us… It looked like his chosen lineup included boiled eggplant with bonito-flavored soy sauce, spinach with sesame sauce, various pieces of sashimi, miso soup, rice, and so on. Any way you looked at it, he’d chosen an assortment of definitively Japanese-style foods.

“You like Japanese food, huh?” I remarked.

In response, Albert gently set his chopsticks down for a moment, placing them side by side, and silently gave me a thumbs-up. Then, he immediately went back to enjoying his dinner. He had far, far better table manners than Ishizaki, who was gobbling everything down in big gulps.

“Hey, Ayanokouji,” Ishizaki said. “You’re in a group together with Ryuuen-san, right? Stuff goin’ good?”

“I’m not really doing anything special,” I said. “The other people in the group are supportive, so thanks to them, I think we’re hanging in there.”

“You’re talking like you don’t know about that fight at the ski resort.” Nishino had been one of the people involved in the affair. She sounded nonplussed as she reminded me about what happened.

“Yeah, I heard there was a fight with some dudes from another school or sumthin’?” said Ishizaki. “Damn, man, I wish I coulda been there too!”

“It would’ve been way, way worse if you were,” Nishino huffed. “Why are so men so hotheaded?”

Despite what she said, Nishino had looked pretty brave to me back there. She talked back to those guys without fear while shielding Yamamura from their harassment.

“You’re a pretty hotheaded chick yourself, though.” Ishizaki guffawed loudly with his cheeks stuffed with crab.

“Gawd, shut up,” said Nishino. “Also, stop spraying food everywhere when you eat; it’s disgusting.”

“You ain’t makin’ trouble for Ryuuen-san either, are ya?” Ishizaki said to her. “Make sure ya listen to his orders good, ’kay?”

“You’re free to put your blind faith in him, you do you or whatever, but why do I have to follow that guy?”

Though Nishino was taking an argumentative tone with Ishizaki, she was engaging in conversation with him properly, each of them taking turns. I supposed they were classmates who knew one another really well, then. I could only go on what I’d seen of Nishino while we’d been in a group together, but though she didn’t talk very much, she didn’t seem to make trouble for others, and she did seem to have a kind side, as she cared for Yamamura in her own way.

“You know, Nishino, I’ve been wondering about this for a long time,” I said, “but are you not scared of Ryuuen?”

“Well, yeah, I guess I do get the feeling that things could get crazy whenever he gets serious, sure,” she replied. “But my idiot older brother used to be a delinquent too, so I guess I might have a little more experience with that kind of thing.”

So, she had someone like Ryuuen in her family, then? If that was true, then it made sense that she was able to talk back to those guys so confidently during that fight.

“It’s so obvious that if you don’t do what you’re supposed to do properly when you’re in school, you’ll have a tough time,” Nishino went on. “But my older brother was such a massive idiot during high school, he got all carried away and ended up getting kicked out, and then he had a hard time finding a job. He had a really tough time.”

Nishino let out several heavy sighs when she recounted what happened, as though she didn’t want to remember.

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“Well, he got picked up by a local construction company, basically, and he’s been working himself practically to death at the site every day. For a really low monthly salary.”

It was precisely because she could see the impending reality that loomed ahead, then, that she could only sigh when she thought about Ryuuen and Ishizaki’s futures. Selfishly doing whatever you wanted now would mean suffering for it later. That should be common sense throughout all of society, whether or not you were a delinquent. Putting aside the entertainment and creative industries, where talent was key, and the sports industry, where physical ability was most important, the higher your level of education, the better. The harder you worked in your studies, and the more knowledge you accumulated, the more likely you were to start from an easier position later in the working world.

“Y’know, despite how ya look, you’re pretty smart, huh?” Ishizaki said.

“You really didn’t need to say the ‘despite how I look’ part,” snapped Nishino. “And besides, anybody would look smart from your point of view.”

“Wah ha ha! Yeah, you might be right about that!”

Yes, I supposed that from Ishizaki’s perspective, almost everyone here could be considered an honor student.

When I had finished my meal and was about to leave, I happened to spot a particular young man: Katsuragi. I saw that he was eating alone at a table in the corner, silently scooping food into his mouth. I was curious about how he was doing, so I thought I’d observe him for a little while, but then I saw something strange. When Oda, from Ryuuen’s class, spotted Katsuragi and tried to go over and talk to him, Matoba from Class A candidly strolled up to talk to Oda, stopping him in his tracks. Then, after something Matoba said to him, Oda headed toward a different student while still keeping an eye on Katsuragi.

It was almost as though Matoba had done that deliberately, to keep Oda from making contact with Katsuragi. It wasn’t just once, either; this happened two or three times in a row. Matoba was a member of group two, along with Katsuragi. It wouldn’t have been surprising if Matoba had been sitting down at a table together with Katsuragi, but it was actually the opposite. It seemed that there were some people in Class A who did rather spiteful things. I would’ve been fine just leaving things be, but I decided to try making contact with Katsuragi at least once. Just then, Matoba, sensing that I was going to approach him, came up to me.

“We’re in the middle of a little group event with Katsuragi right now,” he said. “Would you leave him alone for the time being, please?”

I see. If Matoba said that it was a problem for group two, which they were both a part of, then even Katsuragi’s classmates would have no other choice but to back down. That was why Oda understood right away and left. So, was this the collective will of Class A at work, or was this an action taken by Matoba alone? And was there an agenda to defeat Ryuuen’s class behind this, or not? In any case, from a third party’s perspective, what Matoba was doing could only been seen as an act of malicious bullying.

Then, while Matoba was still on alert, a new visitor appeared. Matoba turned to stop this person, just as he had stopped me earlier, but it appeared that this visitor wasn’t what he had expected.

“Uh…” Matoba gulped loudly and turned away, as though he hadn’t had any intention of interfering in the first place.

“Yo, Katsuragi. You’re eatin’ your food with a pretty depressing look on yer face there, huh?”

It was no wonder Matoba couldn’t say anything, because the visitor was none other than Ryuuen. Matoba quietly clicked his tongue at the unexpected appearance of such a big player and immediately scuttled away. Without so much as even a glance at Matoba’s back as he left, Ryuuen took a seat in front of Katsuragi.

“I’m eating,” Katsuragi said. “What do you want?”

“I just thought I’d get a closer look at your miserable face,” said Ryuuen.

“I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Heh heh. This is what it means to betray your class. Too late to regret it now, Katsuragi.”

“I don’t have any regrets. I might not have a clue how to deal with a leader who can’t be contained, but I am prepared to go down fighting with my current class.”

Perhaps Katsuragi had phrased it that way to hide his embarrassment, but even though he used a somewhat roundabout way of expressing it, I could tell that he was firmly aware of his position as a member of Ryuuen’s class.

“That so?” Then, with a thud , Ryuuen plopped down on the chair that he pulled out and slid an empty glass over to me. “Get me some water, Ayanokouji.”

“…Me?” I asked.

“Ain’t no need for me to be afraid of you in the slightest when we’re out in public like this,” he said. “Makes it easy.”

“Yeesh, I already figured you’d be a slave-driver when I found out we were in a group together, but… Good grief.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll go.” Katsuragi, unable to let something like that slide, offered to help, but I politely refused.

“I’m thirsty anyway, so it’s perfect timing,” I told him.

Besides, I had been able to catch a glimpse of Ryuuen expressing his concern for Katsuragi in his own way, as he was unable to sit around and watch Katsuragi eat his meal all alone. So, I figured I’d play along for the time being.

5.2

R YUUEN AND I stayed with Katsuragi until he finished his meal, and then we left the dining area. I spotted Kushida sitting perfectly still on a chair near the entrance, waiting for someone. She stood up when she saw Ryuuen, Katsuragi, and me, and approached without hesitation.

“Ryuuen-kun, could I talk to you for a moment?” she asked.

Apparently, she had been waiting patiently for Ryuuen to come out. Considering how quickly we had eaten, it was difficult to imagine that Kushida, a girl, had finished her meal before us. It was probably safe to assume that she had something she wanted to talk to Ryuuen about, so she had prepared in advance for it. Katsuragi must have figured out what was going on, because he quickly went on back to his room alone.

“Huh? Whaddya want?” asked Ryuuen.

“Not here, it’s… Is it okay if we go somewhere else?” Kushida was in her usual public-self mode because of all the people around, but she seemed to be acting a little strange.

“Sorry, but I ain’t interested in you.”

“Ah ha ha, no, no, it’s nothing like that. Or rather, you don’t need to worry about that. I mean, I would rather die than go out with you, Ryuuen-kun.” Though Kushida was being mindful of her surroundings, she directed her murderous intent square at Ryuuen, sparks flying.

“Well, sure, whatever, if you wanna talk, I’ll listen,” Ryuuen said. “We can get rid of the third wheel over there, though, right?”

By third wheel, he meant me, of course. Kushida put her palms together in an apology to me, and so I figured that I should get out of here. The two of them walked side by side over to an area where there weren’t any people around. It seemed like if I just left them as they were, things would start heading in a not-so-great direction. Completely concealing my presence, I decided to follow them. I exercised the utmost caution, though, of course. It turned out I was right to be cautious, because Ryuuen seemed like he was worried there was something behind him, looking over his shoulder while they walked.

“So?” he said. “What did you wanna tell me so bad that you’d get me all alone to talk?”

“I wanted to talk about our relationship, Ryuuen-kun,” Kushida told him. “Even when we’re acting as a group, you sometimes say things that aren’t necessary. I’d like you to stop doing that.”

From what I knew, Ryuuen had threatened to expose Kushida twice now, practically lighting the fuse himself to blow everything up. It was obvious that Kushida wouldn’t take very kindly to that.

“What do you want with me?” she demanded.

“What do I want?” Ryuuen repeated. “I ain’t planning to do nothin’ to you right now.”

“…Meaning that you’re going to do something to me someday?” I could hear a slight lack of composure in Kushida’s voice.

“You sold your soul to the devil to get Suzune expelled, remember?” said Ryuuen. “Naturally, that came with risks. You can’t just pretend it never happened after all this time, y’know?”

“Yes, you’re right. I think so, too.”

“Still, I gotta say, you sure have changed a lot, Kikyou. I’m sure the old you wouldn’t have even thought about tryin’ to press me like this right now, even if I provoked you. Wouldn’t ya agree?”

Ryuuen shouldn’t have known anything about what happened during the Unanimous Special Exam—but he did have a sharp nose, so I supposed he must have sensed that something was strange.

“Maybe, just maybe, somebody came along who accepts your true nature?” he said.

“You can heap whatever suspicions you want on me, but they’re misguided,” said Kushida.

“Heh heh. In any case, you’re one of the all-too-important keys to my class strategy. When the time comes for me to deal with Suzune’s class, I’m gonna use this weapon without mercy.”

Ryuuen had intentionally avoided mentioning anything about Kushida all this time. From the sounds of it, he was keeping that in his pocket as one of the measures he could take to effectively cause damage in more important situations in the future. That was an obstacle for Kushida, who, after recovering, had decided to serve the class, albeit for her own sake. It wasn’t something that she could remove easily, and she would continue to be made to suffer.

“What’re ya gonna do?” he taunted her. “You gonna get down on your hands and knees and beg me not to tell anyone? Or perhaps you’re gonna try and get rid of me, get me expelled? Either way, it’ll be difficult for you.”

“I…”

I couldn’t let Kushida choose either of those options. Even if, hypothetically speaking, there were a third choice, I couldn’t let that happen either.

I stopped hiding, deciding to show myself to the two of them. “Sorry, Ryuuen, but you’re going to have to back down on the matter of Kushida,” I declared.

“Tch. You followed us after all, huh?” sneered Ryuuen.

“A-Ayanokouji-kun?!” Kushida exclaimed.

“You being on your guard was something I had already taken into account,” I explained.

“Well, whatever,” said Ryuuen. “So? Whaddya mean, I gotta back down on the Kikyou thing?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like. I know you probably intend to tell everyone about Kushida, but I’d like you to stop.”

Ryuuen laughed in amusement at my warning, clapping. “Ha ha ha! What, you tellin’ me that you’re involved in this too? And on top of that, you’re sayin’ that she’s not the cancer of her class like she used to be anymore, huh?” Having received an answer that removed any of his doubts, he smiled happily.

“That’s right,” I agreed. “Right now, Kushida is taking a new step forward as Horikita’s classmate. I have no intention of letting you interfere and ruin that.”

“Sorry, but this sounds like it just got even more fascinatin’. Let’s put our interests aside for a minute and have some fun here, huh?”

“No one will believe anything you say, Ryuuen-kun.” Kushida, unable to take it any longer, tried standing up to Ryuuen, but he wasn’t going to stop at just those words.

“Hm. I have to wonder about that, though,” he said. “You never know till you try, after all.”

What we needed now wasn’t some half-hearted attempt at getting him to stop what he was doing with words, but rather, a complete shutdown of his actions.

“If you do decide that you’re going to expose her, no one can stop you,” I admitted. Kushida couldn’t hide her anxiety and humiliation at my words, but I lightly tapped her on the shoulder and told her not to worry. “But if you do that, you won’t be able to achieve your goal of fighting against Sakayanagi in the final exam.”

“What? How can you know that for sure?”

“Because I’ll deal with the situation in a way that you wouldn’t want.”

In an instant, Ryuuen’s smile was replaced with a look of suspicion. It was just like the look he’d had when he had abducted Kei in the past, when he hadn’t known what fear was—or actually, perhaps even more suspicious than then.

“Hah,” he scoffed. “What’s this? Now, that’s a look you haven’t shown me in quite a long time, eh?”

I moved in closer to Ryuuen, inserting myself between him and Kushida.

“Come on. Even if I do choose to stay silent right here and now…there ain’t no guarantee that I won’t expose her later, right?” he said.

Ryuuen looked like he had fight in him, but eventually, he backed down, throwing his hands up. “I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “I didn’t even feel like attackin’ your class with the whole Kikyou thing in the first place anyway. Well, actually, I guess I should I say that I don’t feel like it anymore .”

“What do you mean?” asked Kushida.

“If it ain’t somethin’ I can get Ayanokouji with, then it ain’t a weapon I can use.”

“Huh…?”

“I dunno if you know this, Kikyou, but yesterday, this guy over here told me somethin’. He said that he doesn’t want to expel you anymore. So, even if I attacked your class usin’ your story, it wouldn’t affect you anymore, would it, Ayanokouji?”

“That’s right,” I replied. “I’ve already thought of countermeasures.”

“It don’t make any sense to use a strategy that won’t work and only have it comin’ back to bite me in the ass. Right? I’ve learned the hard way that I ain’t gonna defeat ya with half-assed plans.”

It wasn’t at all that Ryuuen was giving in and turning servile, of course; I was sure that he was going to come back and challenge Horikita’s class with some elaborate scheme that even I hadn’t considered.

“I’m headin’ back to my room now,” he said. “Bye, Kushida. Enjoy the rest of your time here at this school as much as ya can.”

Ryuuen headed back to the room, his attitude seemingly saying, Don’t try and stop me again. He’d even gone from calling her Kikyou to calling her Kushida. Was that the flip side of what happened when Ryuuen completely lost interest in someone?

Only Kushida and I remained, standing there in silence.

“Why…did you come to my rescue?” said Kushida. “There’s no benefit in it for you, Ayanokouji-kun.”

“There is a benefit for me, though,” I argued. “It’s that you are an indispensable asset to the class. I don’t think that Ryuuen would have actually gone through with exposing you, even if I hadn’t come, but I wasn’t sure what you were going to do. You were probably wondering if there was anything you could do to get him to keep his mouth shut, right?”

“…Well, yes, I…”

“Ryuuen isn’t an opponent that you can compete with. You would’ve found yourself in trouble if you rushed into a battle that you didn’t start and got yourself blown up. That’s why I decided to say something.”

“So, you’re saying that you could do something, then, Ayanokouji-kun? Well, yes… The truth is that it seems like you did.”

“At the very least, I think that at this point in time, Ryuuen isn’t a big enough deal for me to see him as a formidable opponent.”

“H-huh? What is that supposed to…”

“Anyway, you don’t need to cross that dangerous bridge anymore. Just take care of yourself for now.”

“When you say something like that, it really makes me uncomfortable. You need my help with the class that badly?”

“There’s that too, yes.”

“That ‘too’?” she asked.

“I feel like I can work together well with you, Kushida, now that we speak frankly with each other,” I explained.

Being able to see her hidden side had also made it easier for me to infer what she was thinking.

“Just stop,” she protested. “There’s no way that anyone could seriously think something like that after finding out what I’m really like.” She herself was painfully aware that she had a personality that wasn’t well-liked.

“That’s not true,” I replied. “To be honest, I like you.”

“What is… I don’t know how serious you’re being about this. I can’t trust you, Ayanokouji-kun.” Normally Kushida would’ve thought it sounded like a joke and laughed at me, but right now, her expression was stiff.

“It’s the truth. There are some people out there in the world who are more comfortable with the real you.”

“That’s—” Kushida looked at me like she was about to say something, her mouth open. But she stopped moving. Then, she suddenly started walking toward the wall.

“…What?” I asked.

Suddenly, she thrust out both arms in front of her, hands open wide, pushing the wall as hard as she could with both palms. “I’m okay, I’m okay…” she mumbled to herself, her movements coming to a complete stop.

I watched her, wondering what was going on. After Kushida caught her breath, she turned back around to look at me.

“I just got a little dizzy! But I’m okay-A! I mean, A! Okay!” she sputtered. Despite her attempts to tell me I didn’t need to worry about her, her voice shot up in volume in a very strange way.

“…Are you really okay?” I asked.

Kushida showed me the face she usually wore out in public, though she really didn’t appear to be okay to me.

“Yes. I’m fine!” she replied.

“O-okay.”

In Kushida’s case, it was honestly very difficult to read her emotions.

“I kind of feel like I’ve been saved by you, Ayanokouji-kun… Thanks,” she said.

“I feel like you’ve been thanking me more these days, Kushida,” I remarked.

“Yeah, you might be right about that… Anyway, I won’t be getting involved with Ryuuen-kun anymore from now on.”

“That’s good.”

“Okay, I’m going to head back to my room. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Kushida walked down the hallway. From the look on her face, she seemed like she made a complete recovery. However, she stumbled while on her way down the hall, and she took a massive spill, causing one of her wooden sandals to go flying in spectacular fashion.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Fine! Perfectly! Fine!” She gestured to me not to come over with a wave of her hand, then staggered back to her feet and put her wooden sandal back on.

5.3

S INCE I HAD A MEETING with Horikita, I waited in the hallway to the guest rooms with my back against the wall.

“Sorry for being a little late.” Though Horikita apologized as soon as she appeared, she hadn’t actually been especially late, so there wasn’t really an issue. “Getting straight down to business, let’s—”

“Do you really plan on having a long conversation out here?” I asked, interrupting her.

We were near the guest accommodations, so students were constantly coming and going from their rooms. This was one of the least appropriate places to talk about things you didn’t want to be overheard.

“No, this definitely isn’t a good place to talk,” Horikita agreed. “Let’s see, somewhere appropriate. Let’s head over to the vending machines to get a drink. We can talk while we walk, so that’s perfect, no?”

I figured that was fine, and didn’t really have any objections, so I agreed. You were more or less guaranteed to attract attention when you stood around and talked. But if you chatted while walking, you didn’t have to worry about it.

“They sell fruit milk in the vending machines out in front of the large bathhouse,” I suggested. “It’s delicious.”

I had been told that it was the thing to drink after taking a dip in the bath, and after trying it for myself, I really felt like it was true.

“Thank you for your childish commentary,” said Horikita. “But that’s not something you drink in the middle of the night, is it?”

Was time an issue? Well, actually, I supposed that maybe fruit milk just wasn’t that special from a girl’s point of a view.

“Even so, the vending machines at the main bath are some distance away, so sure, let’s walk over that way,” she said.

She began to walk slowly, showing me that she was prioritizing talking for the time being.

“About what happened at the Cultural Festival,” she began. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that, but I haven’t had the opportunity to. It’s been bothering me for a long time now, and I couldn’t find a suitable time to bring it up until today.”

“You must have been extremely exhausted back then,” I said. “You let me see your sleeping face, completely unprotected.”

“…Do you want to get kicked?” said Horikita. She got into a stance that demonstrated that she was more than willing to do it, and I immediately raised the white flag and surrendered.

“Forgive me,” I said.

“Ugh, talk about negligence on my part,” she sighed. “A blunder. To think, I let a boy see me sleeping. You have sullied me.”

“Are you really that bothered by it?” I asked.

“It is something to be bothered about… But it doesn’t matter right now. I want to ask you about something that happened that day.” Horikita tried to brush her embarrassment aside with a wave of her hand, and her expression turned serious. “That incident that took place in the student council office that day. You had something to do with it, didn’t you?”

What happened at the Cultural Festival that day in the student council office… There was only one thing she could be referring to.

“Did you get Yagami-kun expelled?” she asked.

“Why do you think I had something to do with it?” I wasn’t exactly dodging the question, but I was interested in hearing the reason she had concluded that.

“I don’t know whether you knew this or not, but it’s possible that Yagami-kun was trying to get you expelled,” she said. “In fact, the things he said and did in the student council office support that idea.”

It sounded like Horikita had come by several pieces of information in her own way, without my knowledge. It made sense that, in the process of putting those pieces down and trying to fit them together, she had figured some things out.

“I didn’t know about Yagami, no,” I replied, “but it doesn’t sound like it should come as that much of a surprise. You already knew firsthand that Housen tried to get me expelled, after all.”

“For the twenty million Private Point reward, yes,” said Horikita.

“So, Yagami was participating in that test too, and keeping an eye out for an opportunity. Right?”

“I considered that, too. But there are too many things that seem unnatural. More than anything else, I didn’t get the impression that he was trying to get to you in order to obtain money.”

From the sounds of it, as someone who was present at the scene, Horikita understood the situation in more detail.

“There are lots of questions that I’ve been curious about the answers to,” she added. “But those aren’t what I want to know most.”

“Then, what do you want to know?” I asked.

“Your true identity. I can’t possibly imagine that you’re a normal student, like everyone else.”

“Well, that’s a rather troubling question. If I’m not normal, then what kind of student am I?”

“…I don’t know. It’s not about whether you’re exceptionally talented. It’s just, I can’t even begin to imagine what sort of person you are. It’s impossible for me to decipher.”

So, she wanted to know the answer to the question of who the person called Ayanokouji Kiyotaka was, hm?

“There’s really nothing all that special to say about me,” I told her. “Honestly, I just don’t have anything to even talk about.”

“Well, if I were to ask you questions, would you give me answers?” she said. “Where you’re from, what elementary school you graduated from, your junior high school. Have you participated in any competitions or anything like that in the past? Did you study on your own? Did you go to cram school, or did you have a private tutor?”

I bet that people didn’t even ask you such detailed questions when you went to a formal marriage interview.

“I understand what you’re trying to get at here, but I don’t feel like responding to so many tedious questions,” I replied.

Horikita pursed her lips in a blatant show of dissatisfaction.

“Which is why I’m going to disclose some information,” I added.

“…What kind of information?” she asked.

“For example… Ah, okay, I’ve got it. Things like how I was involved in what happened with Yagami, just as you guessed.”

“You’re not joking, are you? So, was it because Yagami-kun was trying to get you expelled?”

“Technically, I didn’t know Yagami was the one who was trying to get me expelled,” I explained. “It would be more accurate to say that I’d set a trap for the student who was after me, and Yagami happened to be the one who fell for it. President Nagumo, Ryuuen, and the others being there in the student council room—I had orchestrated all of that. My goal was to fence Yagami in, so that he wouldn’t be able to weasel his way out of it with any half-cocked excuses.”

Up until this point, there would have been no point in me telling Horikita all of this. However, by giving her this data, I could indirectly show her what kind of person I was. I did so to create the possibility that she could make use of this information, when the time eventually came for us to face one another.

“There’s no connection between President Nagumo and Ryuuen,” I added. “I talked to them separately, that was all.”

“So, that feeling I had back then, that something was off… I think I understand what that was coming from,” said Horikita.

“By the way,” I said, “we’re almost at our destination.”

We had arrived at the rest area on the second floor of the large bathhouse where the vending machines were located. There were two female teachers monopolizing the massage chairs there, sitting back in the chairs with looks of total contentment and relaxation on their faces; they didn’t seem to notice us.

Horikita and I briefly exchanged looks. We could have just ignored them, but Horikita chose to call out to them instead.

“You certainly seem very relaxed,” she said.

“Huh? Oh. Why, if it isn’t Horikita-san.” Hoshinomiya-sensei responded with a light wave, fluttering her hand at the wrist.

“The students are just about to go to bed, but the teachers are still on duty?” asked Horikita.

“Yes, unfortunately,” Hoshinomiya-sensei replied. “It’s like we only had half a day off today. Right, Sae-chan?”

“Yes, it certainly is like that.” Leaning into the rattling massage chair, Chabashira-sensei looked comfortable, her eyes shut.

“Does the chair feel that good?” I asked.

I was interested in trying it out for myself, but I was wary of being seen by the students who were incessantly coming and going in and out of the bathhouse.

“Massage chairs really become indispensable as you get on in years,” Chabashira-sensei said. “There are a lot of hardships that you young people wouldn’t understand.”

From the sounds of it, with the decline of their physical bodies, they needed equipment for support.

“Especially in your case, Sae-chan, since your shoulders get awfully stiff , ” added Hoshinomiya-sensei.

“You didn’t need to chime in with that unnecessary addendum,” said Chabashira-sensei.

It was only for a brief instant, but the teachers exchanged sharp, angry looks, sparks flying.

“Anyway, Horikita-san, it really seems like you’ve become a true, proper leader,” Hoshinomiya-sensei said. “Are you feeling comfortable in Class B now? I just wanted to ask, speaking as the teacher of the former Class B.”

“Not particularly, no,” Horikita replied. “What I’m aiming for is Class A. Where I’m at now is nothing more than a checkpoint.”

“That goes without saying, yes,” replied Hoshinomiya-sensei.

Disregarding their conversation, I reached for the remote control that connected to Chabashira-sensei’s massage chair. It seemed like there were five levels of intensity, and right now, it was set on level three. Obviously, the stronger the intensity, the more effective it would be. For some reason, I found myself feeling curious about how powerful the fifth level would be, so I decided to test it out.

“Mm! Eeek! Mmmph?!” Chabashira-sensei practically leapt out of the seat in surprise, and the machine started to let out loud rattling sounds. I had thought it would only be about a 40 percent increase in functionality, but it might’ve been more than that.

“A-Ayanokouji, wh-what are you, mm, doing?! T-turn it back!” she shouted.

She reached for the remote, clearly flustered, and forcefully tugged on the cord it was connected to, causing it to fall out of my hands.

“U-ughh! Eek! Ah… H-hurry, get it!”

“In that case, please don’t yank it out of my hands,” I said. I picked up the remote control and turned it back down from level five to level three.

“Huff, huff…h-huff… What the hell did you think you were doing…?!”

“Well… I was just curious, I suppose. I figured that the stronger the intensity, the better.”

“Of course not!” she snapped. “The right level of intensity depends on the person!”

She looked really angry now, her face bright red, more demonic than I had ever seen her before. Apparently, that had been much more stimulating than I had expected it would be.

“What are you doing?” asked Horikita, exasperated. Apparently, my loud exchange with Chabashira-sensei had attracted her notice. “Sorry for interrupting your break,” she said to the teachers. “Let’s go, Ayanokouji-kun.”

“Are you two going into the baths?” Hoshinomiya-sensei asked. “You can’t go in together, you know.”

Horikita ignored the nonsense the teacher was talking and motioned that she was going to keep walking.

“Wait, Horikita-san.” Hoshinomiya had been joking around just moments ago, but all of a sudden she had a serious look on her face.

“I certainly do think that your class is growing at a remarkable rate, Horikita-san,” she said. “And you’re right, Class B is a checkpoint that you need to reach in getting to Class A. That much is obvious, but still, I also think what you’ve done is wonderful, and very admirable, too.”

It sounded like she was praising Horikita, but her words were loaded with meaning.

“Chie, don’t say anything unnecessary,” snapped Chabashira-sensei.

“Come on, what’s the harm?” Hoshinomiya-sensei said. “I’m just trying to tell her what I think, is all.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but it’s not like we can freely say whatever we think,” said Chabashira-sensei.

“Please tell me.” Horikita cut in, urging her to speak. She must have been curious about what Hoshinomiya-sensei was going to say next.

“All right, in that case, I’ll continue,” said Hoshinomiya-sensei. “So, yes, speaking as a homeroom instructor in charge of a class, I do have a lot of thoughts. The teachers too, from Class A to Class D, are also competing against one another like you are. If I were to use an analogy here, you could say that it’s like we teachers are playing the card game daifugou against each other.”

“Playing…daifugou?” echoed Horikita.

“Do you know the rules?” Hoshinomiya-sensei asked her.

“Yes, kind of.”

“In that sense, we use the cards we’re dealt to fight and decide who comes in first through fourth place, and in this school, we spread that fight over three years,” Hoshinomiya-sensei explained. “In daifugou, you use cards numbered one through thirteen… Putting aside regional differences in rules or special rulesets for the time being, essentially, cards with higher numbers are stronger, and cards with lower numbers are weaker, right? So, if a student who only has a value of three clashes against a student with a value of six, the student with six will win, of course. Mashima-kun’s Class A, for example, would tend to have a certain range of cards. He’d be dealt more tens and elevens. On the other hand, going further down, like to Class D, you’ll see more lower-value cards, like threes and fours. Well, that’s the way it has historically been at this school, anyway.”

Hoshinomiya-sensei reached for the remote control for her massage chair and raised the intensity one level to level three. I was reminded again of just how intense level five was.

“Of course, students are changing every day,” she continued. “I think that there are cases where kids who were threes or fours grow into twelves or thirteens, or in rare instances, become the most powerful number, twos. So, class fluctuations do happen, and sometimes, Class D can become Class B. Of course, that is extremely rare, though.”

That meant that what Horikita’s class had accomplished was unprecedented.

“But what’s important is that everyone is fighting on equal footing,” said Hoshinomiya-sensei. “Namely, that every class is always fighting within the same boundaries, with numbers one through thirteen. We can’t have any unfairness or misalignments in a particular class, can we?”

“No, you’re right,” said Horikita.

“But don’t you think that one card that shouldn’t have been added to the deck was mixed into your class, Horikita-san?”

“A card that…shouldn’t have been added?”

Hoshinomiya-sensei was smiling, but she was directing her gaze toward me. “That’s right. It’s unfair. Sae-chan’s class is the only one that has the Joker.”

Horikita also noticed Hoshinomiya-sensei looking at me, as though her gaze was naming me aloud.

“Chie. Cut it out already,” snapped Chabashira-sensei.

“Hey, I’m entitled to grumble a bit,” Hoshinomiya-sensei complained. “Even if we fight smart, fight desperately hard, a single Joker can turn the whole situation upside down. Actually, wait. It’s much, much worse than just playing daifugō. In cards, after you play the Joker once, it goes away. In this case, you can keep playing it repeatedly. There’s no way we can win.”

What she had just said, as a homeroom teacher, could have been interpreted as her declaring that her own class had already lost.

“Putting aside whether what you’ve said is right or wrong, what would you do if a student from Class D heard what you just said?” asked Chabashira-sensei.

An admission of defeat. If students from Ichinose’s class heard it, they’d inevitably be shocked.

“…Yes, you’re right. Sorry about that. The massage chair’s probably just making the alcohol hit me harder.” So saying, Hoshinomiya-sensei switched the power off. “You got the Joker because of luck, Sae-chan, Horikita-san. If you use that to get into Class A, well, that’s just plain unfair, isn’t it?”

It would be obvious to anyone that it was meant as a snide remark.

“That’s enough, Chie.” Chabashira-sensei had raised her voice, coming awfully close to sounding threatening. I’d never heard that tone of voice from her before. Hoshinomiya-sensei must have sobered in an instant, because she hurriedly jumped out of the chair.

“Welp, I’m heading back to my room! Farewell!” she exclaimed. Clearly slightly peeved, she waved to us and walked down the hall with long, exaggerated strides.

“I’m sorry about all that.” Chabashira-sensei got up from her own massage chair and spoke on her colleague’s behalf. “I know she already said as much herself, but it was likely just the alcohol talking.”

“I don’t mind. I just disregarded it as nonsensical drunken ramblings,” said Horikita flatly.

In response to Horikita’s sudden, biting comment, Chabashira-sensei was a little shaken, and coughed. “You’re pretty harsh,” she said.

“It seemed like you were a little concerned about what she was saying before, sensei,” said Horikita.

“It’s not as though I don’t have any thoughts on the matter, to be honest,” Chabashira-sensei admitted. “Things are vastly different now than they were with the class I oversaw three years ago.”

It was certainly true that there were powerful cards in Horikita’s class.

“I don’t know whether Ayanokouji-kun is a Joker or not,” Horikita said, “but I won’t deny that he is a powerful classmate. However, I’m not going to hold anything back because of that.” She didn’t even so much as look at me as she offered her thoughts to Chabashira-sensei. “I will fight with everything I have, using the cards that have been dealt to me in your class, Chabashira-sensei. Because I am aiming for Class A.”

“Yes. Of course, that’s the goal,” said Chabashira-sensei.

However, I was sure that Chabashira-sensei herself likely thought that Horikita wasn’t sufficiently prepared for it. Class A, led by Sakayanagi, also had a lot of great cards. Even if you won one game, there was no telling what would happen in the next ten or twenty.

“Well… I’m going to go after Chie,” Chabashira-sensei said. “If I leave her alone, I’m afraid she might drink herself silly until morning.”

With that, Chabashira-sensei set out after Hoshinomiya-sensei. It sounded like she couldn’t abandon a friend and former classmate.

I turned to Horikita. “Well, guess that’s it for today, Horikita.”

“There’s still a mountain of questions I want to ask you, though, Joker-san,” she replied.

“Since we’ve come all this way, I want to hop in the bath again,” I said. “Besides, there are more people here now.”

I was starting to catch glimpses of students who wanted to enjoy a bath before going to bed, as they trickled in.

“So, can I assume this means that you’ll talk to me later?” asked Horikita.

I nodded in response, and then went through the curtain leading to the men’s bath.

5.4

E LEVEN P.M . was drawing near, and it was about time for lights out. Kitou stood up without a word, heading out into the hall carrying several magazines that he had borrowed.

“He’s been reading in the room almost this whole time, huh?” I mused.

He must’ve liked reading. Unlike me or Hiyori, though, Kitou didn’t look to be the type to read books from the library. When he returned a few minutes later, he had a new magazine in his hand, maybe so that he could read it as soon as he woke up in the morning. The magazines that Kitou read strongly reflected his personal tastes, and most of them were what you’d call fashion magazines.

“Would you let me read that for a sec?” I asked him.

I was expecting him to tell me to get one myself, but Kitou silently placed the magazine on the table. I supposed I could take that to mean it was okay for me to read it if I wanted. I decided to give the magazine a brief read, for the just over ten minutes we had until lights out.

It featured things like trendy clothing and accessories. To be honest, I couldn’t really understand the meaning of the pictures in the magazine, or the articles, either. However, I could tell that Kitou had a strong emotional attachment to these magazines. Kitou’s outfits, which to me seemed like eccentric fashions, were filled with his own sense of style and his feelings. It would have been interesting if Ryuuen, who often quarreled with Kitou, said that his interest in fashion was stupid; however, Ryuuen hadn’t made any such heckling remarks.

Soon, it was time for lights out, so we shut them off and lay down in bed.

I quietly stared up at the ceiling for a while, my vision gradually adjusting to the darkness. It didn’t seem like everyone was asleep yet, and I wondered what they were thinking about. Just as I did, Watanabe spoke up.

“You know, we’re going to be third-years in just half a year,” he said. “Even while we’re competing to get into Class A, we’ve still got to think about our future, like if we’re going to college, going into the workforce, all that stuff. I still can’t imagine what I’m gonna be after graduating high school. And there’s nothing in particular that I really want to do. What about you, Ayanokouji?”

“Higher education…I suppose,” I answered. I figured I’d say the goal that sounded the safest. “Though I haven’t decided on what specific university.”

“What about you, Kitou?” asked Watanabe. He probably wasn’t confident that he’d be able to get an answer from Kitou, but he asked outright anyway, not afraid.

“…I’m going to be a fashion designer,” said Kitou.

“Huh?!” Watanabe was doubly surprised, as not only did he not think he would get an answer, he was also shocked by the answer he got.

“I’m sure you’re surprised,” Kitou said. “I can understand that. I don’t think anyone would expect it, judging from my appearance.”

“W-well, no, it’s… It kinda hurts to admit it, but I suppose not, no…”

However, it was easy to understand once you considered Kitou’s personal fashion sense and the contents of the magazines he often read.

“Heh heh. I think if you said that you were gonna become a killer for hire, Watanabe’d find that easier to swallow,” said Ryuuen.

I was worried that Ryuuen butting in with that comment might make Kitou angry, but I didn’t see him move.

“D-don’t worry about it, Kitou. I mean, Ryuuen’s always sayin’ stuff like that.” Watanabe tried to smooth things over, but Kitou really didn’t seem like he cared.

“I’m used to it,” he said. “Most people are surprised when I tell them about my dreams. They find them hard to swallow. Even if I’m heading straight ahead on that path, I can’t imagine that people will accept me readily.”

There should be no such thing as prejudice, but it certainly did exist in this world. For someone who looked as tough and frightening as Kitou, I was sure that the hurdle to some professions would naturally be quite high.

“But that won’t matter if I graduate from Class A,” Kitou went on. “I can still leap into that world, no question about it. Once I jump in, all I have to do is silence everyone around me with my skill.”

It sounded like, for Kitou, just getting his foot in the door, achieving that first part, was the most challenging task.

“Wow, you’re really giving a lot of thought to the future… I mean, that’s awesome. You’ve got a real dream,” said Watanabe. He was surprised, but he was impressed by how much thought Kitou had given his future compared to himself, and he offered him genuine praise.

Children grow older whether they like it or not, and they are faced with the necessity of entering society. It was the same even for Watanabe, who didn’t have a goal right now, and for Ryuuen, who wasn’t talking about his.

“You know, I just kind of asked without thinking, and…now that I know, it kind of makes things harder,” mumbled Watanabe, forcing a laugh as he looked up at the ceiling. “I mean, all of us here, we’re in different classes, right? So, if you think about it, only one of the four of us can graduate from Class A. I bet everyone here’s got a dream that they want to achieve, but, like, if you take that spot in Class A, that means someone else isn’t getting it… It’s complicated.”

If you were classmates, you could share dreams. But if you were rivals, you couldn’t. That was how this school worked. Some students would be smiling, while others would weep.

I wondered if spending the night together with students your age normally led to this kind of conversation. It reminded me of the night that I’d spent talking with Keisei and the other guys at camp last year.