Chapter 7: The Expected and the Unexpected

Chapter 7: The Expected and the Unexpected

Chapter 7:

The Expected and the Unexpected

A T LAST , there were only two days left in the second semester. Today was finally the day for the Cooperative Comprehensive Written Test special exam, in which we would directly compete against Class A. Though there were special rules, it was just like a normal midterm test or final exam, so there wasn’t much worth noting in the exam process. Many students who were at or below a C in Academic Ability had gathered in the classroom in the morning, focused on improving themselves and studying diligently until the very last minute.

Students like Keisei and Horikita, who had already caught up on studying everything they needed to well in advance and had focused on guiding the others, were looking around at their fellow students, giving them appropriate advice and making thorough final checks. Many students were probably thinking that the hardest part was what was coming: the exam itself. But they were wrong. As they say, it’s 80 percent planning and 20 percent work, and most of the work in preparation for the exam had already been completed. How you approached your studies leading up to an exam, and your ability to concentrate on them—compared to those things, the exam itself was only about one-fifth of the load.

And before they realized it, it’d be over. Most things weren’t that big a deal.

The exam procedure was based on a sheet that Horikita had submitted to Chabashira-sensei last night, which gave the order in which everyone in class was going to take this exam. Since anyone was allowed to solve as many problems as they wished (within the allowable range) out of the one hundred total problems, there may have been more than a few people who felt that the order in which we solved problems wasn’t that significant. But in fact, it was extremely important.

Every person had ten minutes, including the time it took to enter and exit the room. That was plenty of time to devote solely to the act of solving problems, but it was most definitely not enough time to read and understand what all one hundred of the problems were saying. If a student with a low level of academic ability was struggling hard to read and understand the problems, not only would it be impossible for them to find five problems that could be solved easily and enter the correct answers in time, but that student would probably make obvious mistakes due to how flustered they’d be feeling as time ran out. The order in which problems were solved was the key in reducing the likelihood of that happening.

Less than five minutes remained before the bell was due to ring, which would signal the start of the exam. Everyone in class was feeling incredibly tense—Kouenji alone seemed the same as usual. He looked like he was just freely doing whatever he felt like, carefully checking out his hair with his hand mirror, occasionally browsing the Internet on his phone, and so on. Earlier, Horikita had confirmed that Kouenji still hadn’t answered whether he’d take this exam seriously or not. He had only replied that he had earned the right to do whatever he wanted.

Horikita understood that even a carefully constructed strategy, one that she’d taken great pains to decide on, could fall apart if Kouenji were to disrupt it on his own, and so she had come up with a clever proposition. She had asked Kouenji to be the last student to solve problems. She told him that, by that point, ninety-eight of the one hundred questions would be filled in, leaving only two problems for him to solve. If Kouenji, who was originally in the B range of Academic Ability, didn’t answer those questions, we would only lose out on four points. It was unlikely that would be a majorly painful loss.

Furthermore, since those were the last two problems, if Kouenji left them blank, it was possible that we could play it off as him not being able to solve them, rather than intentionally leaving them blank. Thus, we wouldn’t be in violation of the rules. So, there was no risk over whether he felt like solving the problems, left them blank, or answered incorrectly.

Kouenji had readily agreed to Horikita’s proposal. If Horikita’s class won, that meant that they would see an increase of fifty Class Points, so there likely wouldn’t be much resistance on his part to answering those questions correctly. In fact, if Horikita’s class lost the exam because he didn’t make a move, thus losing fifty Class Points, he’d only be losing the extra Private Point income that he wanted.

It was precisely because you couldn’t predict what Kouenji would do using a commonsense perspective alone that Horikita had no other choice but to use this strategy.

The questions featured on this test were certainly not at a difficulty level that you could call easy. Though we couldn’t be optimistic, the conditions for success were favorable for us. Class A also wanted to get as high a score as they possibly could. The pressure put on the Class A students with a lower level of academic ability would be great. The leader of their class, Sakayanagi, probably had some scheme in place, but because each student would be in a separate room when they were answering questions, combined with the nature of the school’s surveillance, any unconventional plan of attack would be impossible. It would be safe to assume that it was not feasible for students with a low level of academic ability to earn a large number of points, nor could they engage in a risky balancing act such as passing around a cheat sheet.

In other words, what all of the classes could do was raise their current strengths to the highest possible level, and order their students in such a way that they maximized their abilities. Or, I supposed, in the case of people like Ryuuen, they could indirectly harass opponents outside of the exam. There were also some reckless strategies, such as entering into a secret contract to deliberately lose points, but all of the results for this test were going to be disclosed. If you were to make an obvious mistake, there was a risk that you’d be outed as a traitor—and, more importantly, there was no guarantee that you’d be able to win by bribing one or two people anyway.

In a school full of students who were essentially giving their best, it was most definitely a kind of accident that there were people like me and Kouenji mixed in among them; people who hadn’t been properly, accurately evaluated in OAA. You couldn’t scoff at the fact that students could get a few points added to their score because they had been judged as having low academic ability, when that evaluation wasn’t based on their actual academic ability. All things considered, you could see that there were several conditions that favored Horikita’s class.

Under the direction of Chabashira-sensei, who had appeared just as soon as the bell rang, we were brought to the special building, where we waited. Then, following the turn order set by Horikita, each student went into the neighboring classroom one by one, solving problems on their tablet. We would repeat this process until we got to the last person, Kouenji, and then we would be finished. In this room, under the supervision of the teachers, we couldn’t bring in any outside materials, nor could we use our phones. Chatting was also forbidden, so everyone waited for their respective turn in silence. All that remained was to see whether the students could demonstrate the fruits of their labors up until this point, without succumbing to nervousness.

7.1

A FTER THE SPECIAL EXAM was over—the long period of waiting included—the students felt relieved, for the time being.

They were met with words of appreciation from Chabashira-sensei for their efforts. “Good work, all of you,” she said. “The results will be announced tomorrow, and as of today, classes are now over. Your winter vacation starts the day after tomorrow, but don’t get too carried away. That’s all for today.”

All that remained now was to wait for tomorrow’s closing ceremony. Released from this period of great pressure, many students now freely let their hair down and relaxed. Some students were reviewing what they had done, how many problems they had each managed to solve, but Horikita hadn’t taken the initiative to organize people’s comments and start grading. Even if we could predict how many points we were getting, there was still the problem of our opponent. At any rate, it seemed like Horikita had decided that there wasn’t any point to that, since the results would be announced tomorrow.

“Hey… Um…” Kei came up quietly next to me and called out to me in a small voice.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

Kei addressed me fearfully, or perhaps like she was confused. “Um… Well, I was thinking,” she began, “it’s probably about time I forgave you, and—”

But almost as soon as she started trying to speak to me, Horikita also came over to where I was sitting. “Ayanokouji-kun, could I have a minute?” she asked.

“Sorry, Horikita-san, but can’t it wait until later?” said Kei.

“If I could put it off for you, I would,” Horikita replied. “But unfortunately, it’s a student council matter. I’ve been summoned by Vice President Kiriyama—I mean, no, Former Vice President Kiriyama. He wants us to meet in the student council office right away.”

As if to prove what she had said was the truth, Horikita showed me a message she had received on her phone. I also noticed Kushida standing some distance behind Horikita, smiling.

“Sorry, Kei,” I said. “Let’s talk when this is over. Text me whenever.”

“O-okay. See you…”

I exited the classroom with Horikita and Kushida, leaving Kei behind.

“Just when I was thinking, ‘Okay, the special exam is over,’ now we have student council business again,” Horikita sighed. “And apparently Nagumo-senpai is there, too.”

“Those two aren’t student council members anymore, though,” I pointed out. “They don’t need to comply with the rules anymore, do they?”

“It’s not like that,” said Horikita. “Even if they’re no longer associated with the student council, they’re still upperclassmen. Besides, this meeting is about Kiryuuin-senpai’s case, apparently. Remember that one?”

“I see. So, that’s what’s going on.”

I’d been expecting this, after the messages I exchanged with Kiryuuin last night. However, the fact that Kiriyama had gone through Horikita to tell me to come was a surprising development. The original plan had been for just the four of us to meet: Kiriyama, Kiryuuin, Nagumo, and me, at Kiryuuin’s urging.

“Hey, I don’t really understand what you two are talking about,” Kushida cut in. “What’s the matter with Kiryuuin-senpai?”

“Oh, that’s right. Kushida-san, you haven’t—”

“I’ll do the talking about this,” I said. “Besides, there’s something I should tell you too, Horikita.”

“Something you should tell me?” she repeated.

“About testimony I received from a third party regarding this shoplifting incident.”

By the time we arrived just outside the student council office, I had finished my conversation with Horikita and Kushida. I saw two first-year students waiting outside: Aga, from Class 1-A, and Nanase, who had recently joined the student council alongside Kushida. So, in addition to the minimum required members I had expected, the entire rest of the student council had been brought along as well, hm? It seemed like developments drawn up by someone else were being incorporated into this case, too.

“I guess this is my first job for the student council, or something,” said Nanase, holding her notebook with great care. “I hurried over here to take notes.”

“Is that for keeping meeting minutes?” I asked.

“Yes. I heard that the secretary’s job is to make a record of things.”