Chapter 3: Social Group Camp

Chapter 3: Social Group Camp

Chapter 3:

Social Group Camp

T HURSDAY MORNING, 9:30 a.m. A pack of buses were idling on the school grounds. The students hopped onboard with light steps and the scent of exhaust fumes in their noses. For most of the second-year students (excluding those in clubs that went on excursions for competitions and such) this was our third outing this year, following the Uninhabited Island Special Exam—and it was a camp event that all grade levels were participating in.

However, they’d already informed us that this was going to be very different from last year’s Mixed Training Camp exam. And although you could call this a camp event, it wasn’t like any of the ones we’d been to before, so we weren’t calling it a special exam.

Something that caught my attention before we departed was the number of buses. Usually, there was one bus per class, which would make for twelve of them if all grade levels were to participate. However, this time, there were only nine buses parked on the school grounds.

Then I saw the students boarding the buses, and the mystery was solved: Only one bus had been prepared for the third-years. That seemed to be because there were an exceedingly small number of third-year students gathered—just twenty. Although it was impossible to be certain since I couldn’t see everyone’s faces, it looked as though five students had been called from each of year three’s four classes, A through D.

Upon receiving our instructions and boarding the buses, we were told that there was no assigned seating, and that we could sit wherever we liked. When Kei heard this, she came over to me as fast her legs could carry her and hugged my arm tightly.

“Sit with me, Kiyotaka,” she urged.

Despite the cold stares from some of the guys, I agreed and took the window side of the third seat from the back, to the right of the aisle. Kei sat down next to me on the two-seater right after.

“Wouldn’t it have been better to stick with the girls?” I asked.

“I’ll do that on our way back. It’s fine for us to sit together on our way there at least, right?” said Kei.

We already spent most of our private time in each other’s company, but she even wanted to be together when we were on the bus. I wasn’t sure what was different, but she seemed happier than usual. By the time everyone had boarded their respective buses, Chabashira-sensei got on.

“This makes me think back to last year’s camp,” said Kei. “I think I remember talking to you a lot during that too, Kiyotaka.”

“Yeah,” I affirmed.

One year had passed since then. Back then, neither of us had thought that our relationship would’ve deepened this much. Not only with Kei, but my relationships with other people around me had changed greatly as well.

“Oh yeah, that reminds me. I just found out that a movie I like is gonna be playing soon. Let’s see it together when it starts, okay?” said Kei.

Her eyes creasing into a happy squint, Kei showed me an image of the film poster. This was just one casual topic of conversation that came naturally to Kei. However, there was one thing I had to ask.

“When is it scheduled to start playing?” I asked.

“Uh, let’s see, when was it?” She wondered aloud. “When I saw the trailer before, I felt like it said it was gonna start in spring, if I remember right.”

“I’d like to know the specific date,” I replied.

“Hm? What, is there something wrong?” asked Kei. “Uh, let’s see… Oh, they posted it here.”

Kei showed me the website, which said that the film would start playing on March 26th. Fortunately, that was just before the start of the new term, when we were on break from classes for spring vacation.

“Got it,” I replied. “Let’s go check it out.”

“Yay! It’s super interesting,” said Kei. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it too, Kiyotaka.”

Kei said that with a smile, but that smile hardened as she looked at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s nothing,” said Kei.

Then Kei looked away from me and started humming a tune and mumbling to herself as she looked over a web page that seemed to be relationship chart of the movie’s characters.

The students were chatting away as they pleased while they enjoyed the view outside their windows. Approximately twenty minutes after the bus had departed, Chabashira-sensei stood at the front of the bus and looked down the aisle at the assembled students, microphone in hand.

“I suppose it’s about time I explained to you details about the camp,” she said. “As we mentioned briefly before we left, You’ll be spending three nights and four days engaging in a social function that will take the form of an experiential learning event, with all grade levels working together.”

Normally, this would’ve been the moment when everyone got tense, but the atmosphere didn’t change at all. The mood was different from usual, as the students were enjoying the scenery outside and relaxing while listening to Chabashira-sensei. She had already said that this wasn’t a special exam, but something different—a social gathering.

“I will reiterate that you should not perceive this social event to be a special exam,” said Chabashira-sensei. “There will be no increase or decrease in Class Points this time whatsoever. There will also be no danger of expulsion, unless you engage in obstructive behavior that is unacceptable for a student. You may receive some Private Points for participating in games, but that participation will not be mandatory this time.”

The fact that Chabashira-sensei was explaining things to us in this way, like she was giving us a thorough reminder, was only natural. The students were becoming more wary the longer they spent at this school. They’d developed a habit of suspecting that there would be something going on behind the scenes, even if they were told something was a social gathering. That was why Chabashira-sensei had announced that this was not a special exam, that there wouldn’t be any fluctuation in Class Points, and that no penalties such as expulsion waited in store. This allowed the students relax.

“It’s unfortunate that Ichihashi had to be absent due to illness, but I suppose there’s a silver lining there,” added Chabashira-sensei.

While colds were common at this time of year, there were a surprising number of students who weren’t feeling well.

“I’m sure that some of you have already noticed this, but even though we say that all grade levels are involved, only five representatives from each third-year class will be participating. This decision was made in light of various circumstances,” explained Chabashira-sensei, without providing any further details about those circumstances. “For that reason, your main goal will be to socialize with the first-year students, but I’m sure you won’t be able to become friends so easily by me just telling you, ‘Go and make friends with everyone.’ So, first, as soon as we arrive at the camp, we will divide you all into twenty groups. The twenty third-year students who will function as representatives for each of those groups have already been selected, based on the formations of the groups.”

I supposed that meant that, rather than deciding the groups when we arrived, they had already been decided and we just hadn’t been told yet.

“I will be distributing the group lists now, so please make a note of which one you will be in. While there are some slight differences in the gender ratios, the balance between grade levels and classes has been fine-tuned as much as possible. As for games, winners will be determined in group vs. group competitions,” explained Chabashira-sensei.

Chabashira-sensei handed a stack of printouts to the students sitting on either side of the aisle. Those students took their papers and passed the remainder to the students seated behind them.

“The printout also lists little rewards that you can earn from the games, as well as the conditions for obtaining them. You should look over that information too, while you’re at it.”

“Well, it’s not an exam, so I’m feeling pretty relaxed about that, but I still want Private Points. Whether we get a good group or not will totally change our odds of winning, won’t it?” asked Kei.

“Yeah,” I replied.

It was natural to hope that you had as many exceptional students as possible in your group, even if it was only just one. Of course, what skills would be required in determining the winners remained to be seen. Hondou, who was sitting in front of Kei and me, stood up and offered us the stack of printouts. Kei took it and passed the remainder back behind her.

“I hope I’m with you, Kiyotaka,” said Kei.

The printout included five sheets of paper bound together with a paperclip. They listed the group activities and the participation rewards, and at the bottom of the fifth page, the names of the students listed neatly in a row. As I flipped through, I noticed that a card about the size of a business card had been tucked in between the pages, folded in two. The printouts were made for this class, so the student names were marked up and it wasn’t too much trouble to find your own. The names of the absent students were also listed, and while Ichihashi and Ichinose were the only two second-year names listed, there were quite a few absences among the first-year students, with four students out, including Ishigami. I thought it was a coincidence that he was out due to illness, but still, this meant that I wasn’t getting an opportunity to interact with him.

“It looks like I’m in…Group 7, with Tanaka-senpai,” Kei said. “I guess we’re not together, then… But…”

I wondered why Kei, who immediately found her name in the middle of the page, seemed disappointed but also somewhat relieved at the same time.

“But, what?” I asked.

“Well, it’s like, we’re staying together overnight, and it looks like I’ll be sharing a room with the rest of the girls in my group, and it’s just, like, I mean, there’s someone who I don’t want to be around… I’m glad that a certain someone isn’t here, I guess, is what I mean.”

First thing in the handout, it was printed that, in addition to the fact that attending group activities would be mandatory, guys and girls would be rooming together as well. I guess Kei noticed that, and that’s why she reacted the way she did. Kei didn’t specify, but I had no doubt that she was referring to Ichinose. Likely because, although it was actually part of a strategy, Ichinose had surprised Kei by relentlessly nominating her over and over during the last special exam.

“And it’s not like I hate Ichinose-san or anything, okay? It’s just, I dunno, I feel a little scared,” said Kei. But as she muttered those words, she shot me a glare. “You’re getting awfully close with Ichinose-san, Kiyotaka.” She spoke in a small voice so she wouldn’t be overheard. “I just, like, can’t help but have a lot of suspicions.”

“So that’s why you sounded conflicted?” I asked in return.

“Well, I mean,” she replied, “there was a possibility that you and Ichinose-san could be together, right?”

It appeared as though Ichinose’s presence had unexpectedly grown in Kei’s mind, in a bad way.

“My group is the last one, on page five. It looks like I’m in Group 20, with Kiryuuin-senpai,” I remarked.

I just took a cursory glance at the list of the twenty total groups, and just as Chabashira-sensei had said, the male-female ratio was as balanced as possible, and in terms of the number of people distributed by class, groups were essentially made up of two people from each class in most classes, with a maximum of three in some and a minimum of one in others. That was probably done to make things as equal as possible.

However, I felt like there was still a sense of inequality to certain aspects of each group, and deviations that bordered on bizarre. The other students were still preoccupied with searching for their names, but it was probably only a matter of time before they erupted with questions.

Kei, who hadn’t noticed anything yet, was still disappointed that she couldn’t be together with me and was staring at the list aimlessly. So, once again, I directed my attention to the rewards noted at the top of the first page.

Group Rank Rewards

1st Place: 30,000 Private Points for Each Student

2nd Place: 20,000 Private Points for Each Student

3rd Place: 10,000 Private Points for Each Student

4th - 10th Place: 5,000 Private Points for Each Student

11th - 15th Place: 3,000 Private Points for Each Student

16th - 20th Place: 1,000 Private Points for Each Student

* Private Points obtained in Social Group are nontransferable.

* Usage is limited to shopping within Keyaki Mall.

* To receive your rewards, you must fulfill the requirements on your point card.

It didn’t seem like we were going to be able to get huge rewards, probably because this event wasn’t being categorized as a special exam. There weren’t any systems in place where only certain classes would benefit, either. Even so, if a high school student could get extra income, whether that was only 1,000 or 2,000 yen, they naturally couldn’t ignore the opportunity, and their fundamental desire would be to want to aim for the top spot. The nontransferability and limited use factors were a downside, but if you were to turn that around, there was an upside too, in that it was virtually impossible to use them for strategies, meaning that those points could be spent freely without reservation. The students continued to stare intently at the list for a long while.

“Um, excuse me… Chabashira-sensei?” Sonoda raised her hand once she had a general grasp of the group distribution. “May I ask a question?”

“Is there something on your mind?” asked Chabashira-sensei.

“Yes. If we’re to play each game separately for each group, then…would this be fair? I mean, I suppose that even if it is impossible to make things completely fair, it does feel like the balance is a little, well, off… I feel that way about Nagumo-senpai’s group, for instance.”

“That is because the OAA standards have not been taken into account whatsoever in balancing.” Chabashira-sensei gave a forthright answer in response to Sonoda. “It isn’t surprising, then, that there are some instances of extreme bias.”

“Whoa, for real, though. Isn’t Nagumo-senpai’s group pretty crazy?” remarked Ike, having checked Nagumo’s group after Sonoda used them as an example.

Nagumo was impressive, as both the former student council president and a student who had scores of A or better in every OAA category. But what was astonishing was the overall remarkability of the lineup.

First-years:

Class A – Takahashi Osamu, Toudou Rin, Amasawa Ichika

Class B – Hagiwara Chihaya, Fukuchi Hinano

Class C – Namekawa Azuki, Iguchi Yuri

Class D – Tatewaki Aoi, Oosaki Noa

Second-years:

Class A – Sanada Kousei, Sawada Yasumi

Class B – Horikita Suzune, Hirata Yousuke

Class C – Kaneda Satoru, Katsuragi Kouhei

Class D – Kanzaki Ryuuji

In addition to the fact that all the students obviously excelled academically, the group was made up of students who were either highly athletic or, failing that, were otherwise able to follow instructions precisely. Although when it came to outstanding individual ability, there were students such as Sakayanagi, Ryuuen, and Kouenji, but there was no telling what kind of chemical reactions would occur if you threw any of those students together. Considering that this group looked stable, that meant this was probably one of the most versatile, all-around exceptional groups.

Given that, many of the other groups were probably going to be upstaged, whether they liked it or not. Now, if we were talking about a group to which Sakayanagi or Ryuuen belonged, like that earlier example, they might’ve been able to make waves to win against this balanced group, but defeat was inevitable for every other group. If there was a game focused solely on academic ability, they would be the first to win on the basis of their overall strength.

“I’m sure that some may find these group allocations somewhat unfair, but it is what it is. The fact that exceptional students are pulled into stable groups is the natural order of things,” said Chabashira-sensei, with a printout held in one hand and a hard look on her face.

That look made Sonoda, who had posed the question originally, shrink back in her seat. She just couldn’t argue with such a plausible statement. Chabashira-sensei, perhaps thinking that she’d been a bit too threatening, relaxed her expression and smiled a little.

“But it’s not as though those people will always win just because they’re exceptional. Especially in this case,” said Chabashira-sensei, pointing out that it wasn’t totally hopeless. She continued her explanation. “We’ll be holding games in round-robin competition format over three days during this Social Group camp. Groups will be competing against each other, one-on-one, and the competition order will not be publicly disclosed. Also, in every instance, games will be chosen at random from the list.”

Chabashira-sensei verbally communicated detailed rules to us, but here is a summary of the Social Group rules.

Social Group – Overview of Experiential Learning Games

Duration: Held over a period of three days.

Five matches on Day 1

Seven matches on Day 2

Seven matches on Day 3

* Thirty-minute intervals for each game.

Method of competition: All twenty groups will participate in a round-robin tournament.

The competition order will be kept private.

Rules: For each game for each group, five participants will be selected by their third-year representative to play against each other.

Only first- and second-year students can be selected to compete as participants in games.

Games are one-on-one, and the group with three wins will be declared the winner.

Even if it has been determined a group will lose, all five participants must play.

There is no limit to the number of times someone can participate in games; they can participate as much as they like.

Game contents: The school will select from the list at random and announce the game contents as needed.

Victory conditions: Ranking order is determined by the number of wins.

* In the event of a tie for third place or better, additional games will be held.

Looking at the list of games, it became clear that the camp experience really was going to be light. There were activities that you would find at a camp, like pottery and pressed flower making, and there were activities that really were games, like playing cards and table tennis. I had to wonder if these were only possible because we were at a training camp. Of course, there were also some games that would involve academic ability and require you to use your head, but those were probably not important.

There were also creative cultural activities like flower arrangement and bonsai, making for a truly diverse selection. Plus, it looked like we could try them out when we weren’t competing, on top of being able to compete two or three times in the same game. Our printouts had all the details: For three nights and four days, we’d be interacting with our classmates while making things, playing games, and competing in the rankings. This might have been boring for students who weren’t interested, but honestly, I was very much looking forward to the experience of being able to tap into my creative side.

“Tucked inside your handout is your point card. You can collect stamps whenever you do the various experiential learning activities at the camp. Filling up your card is a condition for receiving the rewards, so be mindful of that,” said Chabashira-sensei.

So it was an item meant to encourage voluntary participation in those learning activities, huh? There were a few small rules, such as a limit on the number of stamps that could be collected in a day and that you couldn’t receive multiple stamps in the same game, but that didn’t seem to be particularly concerning. At any rate, I wanted to try a variety of things that you couldn’t normally do at school. Now that I had an understanding of the content, I could definitely see opportunities for even groups with low OAA scores to make it through. With these rules, you could say that there’s a chance to win, no matter what group you were up against.

“I’m sure that by now you all understand that there’s no need to be overly concerned with winning or losing on this trip,” said Chabashira-sensei. “Of course, it’s fine for you to aim for first place with its rewards, but as I’m sure you can see from the list of various games, the principal focus is on interaction through hands-on learning experiences. It’s even completely fine to interact with other groups and focus on deepening your friendships.”

Thus far, the school had given us various assignments with their various rules, like the special exams. This was the first time that we’d been given the stamp of approval that it didn’t matter whether we won or lost.

“Wow, this is actually, like, really laid-back, isn’t it? For real. Even if you come in last place, you can still get a thousand yen,” said Kei.

After hearing what the camp was about, many students felt relieved, including Kei.

“Yeah. The fact that nothing happens if we lose is pretty significant,” I replied.

After getting their explanations, my classmates began to spend their time congenially, some of them in such good spirits that they burst into song.

“Even though you have a certain amount of freedom, don’t forget that you still have to follow the schedule set by the school,” warned Chabashira-sensei.

But just like that, the students were given a reminder that there were still some rules. Both Kei and I checked the schedule in the printout.

Wake up

7:00

Breakfast

8:00–9:00

Lunch

12:00–13:00

Afternoon break

13:00–14:00

Dinner

19:00–20:00

Bath times

6:00–8:00 & 20:00–22:00

Social Group

Morning session: 9:00–12:00

Afternoon session 14:00–18:00

Lights out

22:00

Basically, all of our time when we weren’t competing was free time. This was an extreme example, but even if you wanted to skip out on lunch to take an afternoon nap or to immerse yourself in the experience of making something, that was left to your discretion. Of course, that wouldn’t be the case in the event the leaders of each group ordered their people to participate in games, but there didn’t seem to be any penalties if you refused. As for our first day, we would be arriving around noon, and then we would have lunch with our groups followed by the afternoon Social Group session.

“I would like for you to endeavor to behave yourselves in such a way that will not embarrass yourselves as senpai at this camp,” said Chabashira-sensei.

That must’ve been the end of the explanation, because Chabashira-sensei turned off her microphone and took her seat.

3.1

A FTER ABOUT TWO HOURS on the expressway, the view outside my window had changed completely, and we were now deep in the mountains. The bus stopped in front of a facility different from the one we were at last year, and the students began to disembark. The area out in front of the main entrance, where the buses were lined up, was much wider and more open than I had imagined. The building where the students would be sleeping was built like an old ryokan with a long history.

According to the explanation we received from the school, it was built during the bubble era as lodging and a space for events. Inside, the building was equipped with classrooms and other facilities for individual experiential activities. That was probably the reason there were so many different activities available.

“Assemble in your assigned groups. Now, for the next three days, make sure to follow your leader’s instructions while talking with everyone and getting to know each other as you engage in activities,” said Chabashira-sensei.

The twenty third-year students assigned to lead the individual groups put some space between themselves to help their group members spot them. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Kiryuuin standing there with her hands shoved in her tracksuit jacket pockets.

“Well, see you later then, Kiyotaka,” said Kei.

I watched Kei walk off toward her group for a minute before making my way over to Kiryuuin.

“I’m looking forward to working together with you over these next three days, Kiryuuin-senpai,” I remarked.

“Same here,” she replied.

The sixteen total first- and second-year students assigned to be in Kiryuuin’s group, Group 20, were as follows:

First-years:

Class A – Toyohashi Garou, Kosumi Dan

Class B – Yanagi Yasuhisa, Eikura Mami

Class C – Tsubaki Sakurako, Shintoku Tarou

Class D – Obokata Kouki, Jitsute Misora

Second-years:

Class A – Hashimoto Masayoshi, Yamamura Miki, Morishita Ai

Class B – Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, Nishimura Ryuuko

Class C – Oda Takumi, Shiina Hiyori

Class D – Hatsukawa Maho

Added to that list of people was our leader, Kiryuuin. I had the impression that this group had a fairly equal mix of strength between academics and athletics. It was the kind of team balance that would make it difficult to win if we were in an even match, but I supposed that this wasn’t really an issue in a relaxed social gathering where games were the main focus.

As for the members, there were many second-year students with whom I interacted on a regular basis, but I wasn’t acquainted with any of the first-years whatsoever, except for Tsubaki. In that sense, I could understand the school’s goal in implementing this Social Group camp.

“Yo. Man, never thought I’d end up bein’ together with you like this,” said Hashimoto, coming up to me and speaking frankly, just as our group was forming.

“Same,” I replied. It was a strange twist of fate that the four people I talked to that day would be in the same group as me now.

“I’m happy, but also kinda disappointed. Given the choice, I would’ve much preferred if I coulda been with you for a crazy special exam,” said Hashimoto.

It sounded like his expectations were high. I still hadn’t said a word about being able to meet those expectations, but I figured I’d just let it go.

“Still,” he continued, “even though this is just a social group thing, I’m grateful for the fact that we can get a ridiculous amount of cash if we get in the top spot. At any rate, we definitely have to exchange contact info with the first-years. I’ll put together a group chat with everybody and invite you to it after.”

Honestly, it was immensely helpful of him to volunteer to take on the time-consuming task of being the manager and organizing the group without even being asked.

“Though they might remove your name from their contacts next month, Hashimoto,” I replied.

“H-hey, come on, man. Stop makin’ jokes that aren’t funny, that’s Morishita’s job!”

Come to think of it, what I said had indeed sounded a bit like something Morishita would say. I wondered if she might be affecting me in unexpected ways. Just as I had that thought, a soft voice reached my ears.

“Good morning to you, Ayanokouji-kun.”

It was none other than Hiyori who called my name, as she strolled over to our group to approach me.

“Morning,” I replied, “I’m looking forward to working with you. It’s reassuring to have you in the group.”

“I feel the same way. I was relieved when I found out that you’re in my group, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Hiyori.

Knowing Hiyori, I had a feeling that she’d be accepted by everyone right away, unlike me. However, no two people saw the world in the same way. I was honestly glad to have a reassuring friend here with me.

“I’m looking forward to working with you as well, Hashimoto-kun,” said Hiyori as she bowed slightly.

“Hey, always happy to be with a cute girl. Y’know, I gotta say, seeing you standin’ next to each other, Ayanokouji, Shiina-chan, you two look good together. Like, you fit,” said Hashimoto.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Look, I really don’t want you to take this the wrong way or anything, but it’s just, you know, I don’t feel like something’s off when you two are together, compared to Karuizawa that is,” said Hashimoto.

Perhaps that was because I shared different things with Hiyori than I did with Kei; Hiyori and I both loved reading, for example. At any rate, there was no need to take Hashimoto so seriously about everything. While I mulled over his words, Hashimoto had already dropped the issue and turned his attention to the group as a whole. Kiryuuin basically abandoned the whole group to stare off at the wintry mountain landscape, which was probably why Hashimoto felt that he had to step in.

“Uh, let’s see here… Is this everyone? Oh, wait, aren’t we short one person? One, two, three…” He muttered as he quickly counted heads. “Fifteen. And including me, that’s sixteen. Yeah, looks like we’re short one person after all.”

Short? I thought everyone was here, but perhaps I was mistaken.

“We have seventeen. Yamamura Miki is here as well,” remarked Morishita.

“Oh, yeah, okay. Guess everyone is here…” It sounded like he considered it a serious oversight, because Hashimoto quickly corrected himself. “Sorry, Yamamura, my bad.”

“It’s all right… I’m the one who’s sorry,” replied Yamamura.

For some reason, Yamamura was even more apologetic than Hashimoto, even though he was the one who forgot to count her. I supposed that she was still as lacking in presence as ever, If Kiryuuin could overlook and bump into her and Hashimoto could completely omit her from a headcount, she was certain as lacking in presence as ever, but lately I’d been feeling that shadowy lack of presence had gotten to be even more distinctive.

However, once I’d become aware of her, I felt like I could pick up her presence more precisely, specifically because there was less there. It might have just been me, but I could feel her by the absence of anything to feel. When I asked Hiyori about Yamamura, she said that she’d never talked with her before, so I decided to go over to Yamamura and give the two the chance to get acquainted.

“Guess we’ve had some kind of connection lately or something,” I remarked, “considering we were together for the school trip before too.”

“Y-yes, it seems that way. I’m…looking forward to being with you this time as well,” said Yamamura.

“I’ll be looking forward to working with you too, Yamamura-san,” said Hiyori. She turned to Yamamura with a gentle, inviting smile, but she just stiffened up.

“Oh, uh, y-yes. Um, you are, um, Shiina-san?” Yamamura greeted Hiyori in a shy, reserved manner, but she seemed shaken and restless, like there was something on her mind.

“Oh? Is there something you want to ask me?” asked Hiyori.

“Ah! Well, uh, it’s… It’s just that I-I s-suppose that, um, well, you seem completely different from, well, the impression that I had of you, and…” stammered Yamamura.

“Of me?” asked Hiyori.

Hiyori cocked her head to the side, puzzled.

“It’s because I thought that you were…more indifferent…” Yamamura muttered quietly in response.

I used to have the same impression of Hiyori, before I started talking to her and getting to know her better. Yamamura was observing from a distance, and it seemed like there was still a gap between her mental image and the reality of her schoolmate’s personality.

“I’m sorry. I’m not good at speaking, so I might have said something rude…”

“It’s perfectly fine. I’m not particularly good at speaking with people either, so I suppose that makes us comrades,” said Hiyori.

“Yes… I suppose so,” Yamamura agreed aloud; although from the look in her eyes, it didn’t seem like she fully believed it.

“Do you not think so? Well, if I seem talkative, I suppose that’s thanks to Ayanokouji-kun,” said Hiyori.

“Thanks to Ayanokouji-kun…?” asked Yamamura.

Thanks to me? I thought that Yamamura and I might have the same doubts running through our minds.

“Yes. While I’m not good at it, I’ve come to really love talking with friends.” Yamamura was on her guard, but Hiyori took her hand as she spoke to her. “So I’m sure that you’ll come to enjoy talking too, Yamamura-san.”

Hiyori’s statement that it was thanks to me was an exaggeration, but I did hope that Yamamura would feel the same one day.

In any case, the entire Kiryuuin group was now present and accounted for.

“Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. I look forward to working with you,” said Morishita.

And there she was: Morishita, with her polite way of speaking and her habit of calling someone by full name but dropping honorifics.

“Same here,” I replied.

“You are…let’s see… Shiina Hiyori, yes. I am Morishita Ai. Hello, hello.” Morishita bowed head, adding, “It is a pleasure.”

“Yes, I’m Shiina. I look forward to working with you, Morishita-san.”

Starting with Yamamura, the second-year students exchanged casual greetings with one another. Then, we introduced ourselves to the first-year students, who were all clustered together and looking anxious. Kiryuuin, who had been waiting for the conversations to end without really interjecting herself, turned around.

“All right then, I think we’ve more or less finished with the greetings, so let’s have lunch, shall we? Let’s disperse for now,” said Kiryuuin.

“Please wait a minute, Kiryuuin-senpai. Don’t you think it would be better for everyone to have lunch together, to get started on that whole group bonding thing?” suggested Hashimoto, hurriedly speaking up on behalf of the group.

And it seemed like he had a point, given that when I looked around, it seemed like many groups were already acting as a unit.

“Well then, I’ll leave you to it,” said Kiryuuin.

She was giving him free rein, but it was because she wouldn’t be sticking around. Kiryuuin immediately left the group and disappeared into the building, alone.

“Hey, come on, seriously? For real?” Hashimoto sighed in frustration at Kiryuuin’s vanishing act. “Man, talk about one hell of a choice of leader.”

“You can just ignore her.” It wouldn’t be fair to leave everything up to Hashimoto, so I casually spoke up in support. “I’m all for the idea of having lunch as a group.”

“All right. Yeah, she said it was up to us, so it’s fine if we don’t want to disperse,” said Hashimoto.

He quickly took action, explaining the plan to our group’s first-years. Some of them may have been reluctant to share a meal with their seniors, but this event was supposed to be a social function. Unless there was a student with a bad habit of throwing their weight around like Housen here, objections were unlikely.

“Hey, wait a minute! Hey! Kouenji!”

Behind Hashimoto and the first-years, another nearby group was experiencing a bit of a problem. Apparently, Kouenji had been assigned to Group 6, which he was just arbitrarily walking away from without listening to his leader’s instructions. The other second-year students didn’t call after him, and they even looked like they felt somewhat nostalgic looking at the perplexed expressions on the first-years’ faces. My classmate Inokashira anxiously looked at his retreating form, but she ultimately had no other choice but to let him go. My and Inokashira’s eyes met for a moment, but the voice of her indignant leader made her turn toward him in a hurried panic.

“I wonder what’s going on with Kouenji-kun,” Hiyori muttered, watching his back as the subject of her wondering walked off. Apparently, she didn’t fully understand what was going on.

“He’s always doing things his way, on his own. He probably won’t be coming back,” I replied.

“Is that so?” asked Hiyori.

“Kouenji Rokusuke is a person who cannot act in a group. I have come to understand that.” Apparently, she fully understood what Kouenji was like, because Morishita put her hands together as though in prayer for Group 6 and their breakdown. “My sincere condolences.”

After her moment of silence, she turned to me to ask, “Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, if you had been in the same group, could you have stopped that person, as a member of the same class?”

“It’s precisely because we’re in the same class that I would’ve looked the other way, convinced that it’d be pointless,” I replied.

Being from the same group or not wasn’t important. If someone called out to him and he actually stopped and listened, there wouldn’t have been any difficulty.

“Okey dokey. All the first-years are on board. Let’s head this way,” said Hashimoto.

With Hashimoto’s order, Group 20 started walking, even without our leader. I noticed a damp smell in the building as we entered without taking our shoes off, so it likely wasn’t a place that was used often nowadays. As more students poured in, they formed a line headed toward the cafeteria.

In the absence of our assigned leader, it seemed inevitable that Hashimoto would take over her duties, since he was the one taking initiative. He took the lead directing the group’s lively conversation while they enjoyed lunch. He gassed up the more reserved first-years and made sure that there was a wide range of topics, but he also didn’t fool around or get too rowdy. Frankly, he was an immense help to students like me, who were often stuck listening in silence.

“Um, excuse me… Hashimoto-senpai? I know that it says in the rules that this is a social event, but we don’t all have to be present during games, right?” asked one of the first-years.

“Yeah, that’s right. The max number of participants is five people, plus the same people can participate as many times as they want. Feels pretty relaxed, doesn’t it?” said Hashimoto.

All you would need would be the required number of people and the leader present at the given time.

“From the looks of things, Kiryuuin-senpai doesn’t appear to be interested in the Social Group camp. I guess that’s all well and good, but…I just wish she would’ve at least told us what her plans were, in any case,” added Hashimoto.

Since the leader had appointive power, Kiryuuin should’ve been the one making decisions about participation once the games were determined. Hashimoto seemed bothered by the fact that Kiryuuin didn’t ask any questions that might help with that, such as who was good at what.

“At any rate, we’ll just have to do what we can for now, and take it seriously,” said Hashimoto.

“People say that Kiryuuin-senpai is an amazing person. Maybe she already understands everything there is to know about us, or something like that?” said Jitsute, a girl from Class 1-D, offering her theory to Hashimoto.

It wasn’t surprising that people knew about Kiryuuin’s skills even without having spoken to her themselves.

“Yeah, no, that’s not likely. Besides, there’s no way she’d know stuff like who among us is good at makin’ pressed flowers.”

The exasperated Hashimoto was exactly right about that. No one could know what our individual strengths and weaknesses were.

“That’s one reason why I said that we should all eat a meal together,” Hashimoto said, “So, for the games mentioned in your handouts, let’s have everybody rate themselves on a scale of one to five on how confident they are at each. With a rating of one being not confident at all.”

Normally, the leader would perform this simple but necessary action, but Hashimoto stepped up again and asked everyone to give themselves a score for each game. Hashimoto asked everyone to use their phones to give a self-evaluation for each game, but he started running into difficulty with the sheer variety of unusual activities. Basically, you could probably only put a one for the things that you didn’t have any experience with, and a maximum of two or three for things that you felt like you could manage to do. Moreover, many of these activities were things that we hadn’t prepared or practiced for in advance. Anything that required artistry or improvisation would be particularly difficult.

Everyone tapped their phones while they ate. As there was a huge amount of information to go through, some people finished their meals by the time they were done inputting everything. At any rate, we collected enough data on everyone to have some rough estimates, more or less. Hashimoto then immediately shared in the group chat he’d already made.

“…Well, this ain’t good,” said Hashimoto.

The first words out of Hashimoto’s mouth after he scanned through the information were grave. Just as I had feared, most of the students had generally rated themselves with ones or twos for most of the games, with hardly any fours or higher to be found. As far as I could see, Hashimoto had no hope of us winning.

“Well, I s’ppose it’d be fine if we just give up on winning and just try to have fun,” he said.

But it was too early to make that call, especially since I was sure that other groups were going through something similar.

“I feel like there aren’t many groups that’ll take this seriously, but… Well, anyway, for the time being, I’ll go ahead and show this information to Kiryuuin and let her decide on our strategy,” said Hashimoto.

Ultimately that was what this Social Group camp came down to. If Kiryuuin was motivated to aim for the top, then the juniors just had to do as she said. On the other hand, if she wasn’t motivated to do anything, they would only participate at a reasonable level and spend most of their time relaxing at the camp. Personally speaking, I would’ve preferred to take things easy.

3.2

B Y THE TIME I finished my lunch, there was a message on my phone from a certain someone. It was just before 1 p.m. when I got up from my seat, so I had roughly an hour to spare before our first game of the day.

“Sorry, but I’m going to step away for a bit. Do you mind if I meet back up with you in the room?” I asked.

“Yeah man, no worries. I’ll take the first-years around and see if we can do some experiential learning,” replied Hashimoto.

I was grateful to Hashimoto for taking on the hassles of our responsibilities as upperclassmen. I headed over to the lounge. When I arrived, the person who had called me was sitting alone on a two-seater sofa, gazing out the window with a bored expression. There was one more person standing nearby as well, also looking out the window. Looking at this combination of people, I determined it was likely not a coincidence they were together.

“Is there something you need from me, Nagumo-senpai?” I asked.

“Need? No, it’s nothing so much that I’d call it a ‘need,’ really.” As he said that, he gestured lightly with his fingertips, beckoning me over. “I wanted to talk to you.”

I did as he instructed and sat down on the empty sofa. Asahina, from her position by the window, turned to look at me.

“Hey there, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Asahina.

She then moved away from the window, practically forced Nagumo to move over to the right end of the sofa, and sat down next to him.

“I was expecting some kind of special exam, but I never imagined that this would just be a social gathering. To be perfectly honest, I’m disappointed.” The first words he said to me as he sat facing me were about how he was let down by this camp. He sighed and shook his head lightly, a small smile on his face. “Man, I am really, really unlucky. Don’t you agree?”

Exasperated, Nagumo rested his elbow on the armrest of the sofa and then rested his cheek lightly on his fist.

“It is certainly true that, compared to last year’s Mixed Camp, this event is significantly scaled down. I can’t deny that. That’s probably why it’s being called a social event rather than a special exam, though,” I replied.

We’d gone from the risk of expulsion to no penalties at all. I could understand Nagumo’s feeling of intense disappointment.

“But Miyabi, you already kind of knew things would be like this, right? This is the time of year when we have camp stuff , ” said Asahina, pointing out that it was hard to imagine having a difficult special exam involving all grade levels now, in February.

“…Well, yeah,” replied Nagumo.

“It would have been virtually impossible for all the third-year students to participate like they did last year anyway, right?” I added, with a mutter.

“Yes, that’s because many of us third-years are dealing with entrance exams and job hunting around this time of year.” Nagumo had to acknowledge that I was right about that. “Only the students who had already decided on their career path a long time ago already could afford to take the time to participate in this camp. Even if you tell them that they could get a number of Private Points as a reward, many of them don’t want to spare a single second.”

The third-years had their Private Points collected and managed by Nagumo, through unique rules that they had come up with. If 20,000,000 points were accumulated, then someone could be pulled into Class A. However, the rewards this time were non-transferable, and could only be used within Keyaki Mall. On top of it all, the amounts weren’t even that large. Although I was by no means an expert and couldn’t tell you when a single college’s entrance exam was scheduled, generally, entrance examinations were held in January for private universities and late February for public universities.

Given that it was now February, many students were probably busily preparing themselves for those exams, so spending four days and three nights to watch over their juniors came at far too great a cost.

“Last year’s Mixed Training Camp was held about a month earlier, but I imagine that must have been pretty tough for the third-year students regardless, wasn’t it?” I asked.

“I think so too. It looked like more than a few of the third-years brought their textbooks with them. And I think that’s probably one of the reasons why they’ve gotten more lenient this year,” replied Asahina.

Thinking about that, I supposed that Horikita Manabu’s generation might have struggled quite a lot in ways that I couldn’t see. Or I supposed it was possible that the school had some sort of relief measures in place as well, but there was no way of knowing about them until we reached our third year. Even though Asahina said they’d gotten lenient, it was a busy time. It was safe to assume that the third-year students participating in this Social Group camp were those who had set prospects for higher education or employment.

“Can I assume that the third-year students who are here to participate came voluntarily?” I asked.

Asahina nodded in response to my question, chirping, “Yep, yep.”

“They wanted five applicants from each class. Even if they didn’t get exactly twenty though, I guess that they would have made adjustments,” said Asahina.

It seemed that the school showed proper consideration to the third-year students too.

“By the way, I haven’t asked before, but what are you planning to do after graduation, Nagumo-senpai? Asahina-senpai?” I asked.

Nagumo looked up, perhaps because he was surprised to suddenly hear that question in the flow of the conversation.

“You want to know?” he asked.

Was he happy that I was interested? I felt that if I replied with something like, “More or less, I guess,” he might sulk, so I decided to just give an honest nod.

“I’m going to college. And just FYI, I’m not going to be using the Class A privileges at all, okay?” said Nagumo.

Which meant that he was convinced he would be able to pass the entrance exam on his own merits.

“I’m going onto higher education too, like Miyabi. Though, I’m going to a different school than he is. I took the Common Test for University Admissions the other day and scored it myself, but I only just barely got a passing score. Plus, I think it’d probably be impossible for me to go where he’s going. If I can graduate from Class A, then I might be able to force my way in with help from our school and all, but… Yeah, I probably won’t be doing that,” said Asahina.

Although Nagumo hadn’t specifically mentioned the name of the university he was going to, it sounded like it was an especially high-level one. Asahina’s plan to not force herself and reach beyond her ability was probably the correct course of action. Forcing your way into a university that is higher than your own level with the help of ANHS came with various risks after admission. Just like Keisei had said before, it was best to utilize the privilege of Class A for employment-related purposes.

“I don’t find any value in the privilege of Class A itself, personally. You know why that is?” asked Nagumo.

“Because you have the power to seize your goals with your own two hands, yes?” I replied.

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons why I rule over the third-years now and how I built up my presence. I figure that, even if I graduated from B or D, I could just get into the college of my choice or land a job at a company on my own merits,” said Nagumo.

Asahina deliberately shot a look at Nagumo that seemed to say, “ Wow, what a jerk ,” but what Nagumo said was probably true.

“I suppose even if a lot of people banded together to try and drop you to Class B, Nagumo-senpai, the end result would be obvious to everyone. That wouldn’t increase their motivation—they wouldn’t even maintain it. That’s what led to the current results,” I remarked.

Nagumo nodded. Of course, it was still better to have the privileges of Class A. The difference was whether you considered it the main lynchpin of your plan, or simply as an insurance policy.

“By the way, Horikita-senpai is at the university that Miyabi is going to. You have to wonder just how much he likes him, huh?” teased Asahina.

Was the presence of Horikita Manabu the deciding factor for Nagumo in choosing that university, rather than it being the college that he wanted to go to himself?

“Come on, lay off,” Nagumo shot back. “Anyway, Ayanokouji, take the entrance exam for my school next year and I’ll welcome you with open arms.”

“If you want to go, though, you’ll have to try really hard to do well on the Common Test, since it’s a pretty tough place to get into, y’know?” added Asahina.

“In that case, I’d best decline,” I replied, “I think that would be pretty difficult for me with my academic ability.”

Asahina listened earnestly and seemed to believe me, but Nagumo wasn’t buying it. He snickered at me for not having answered seriously and shrugged his shoulders.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” he said. “Frankly, the only thing there is to gain from this social event is Private Points, and there’s nothing to lose. Which is why not many people will take things seriously. It’s not very stimulating for me, but I’ve decided to look on the bright side: It’s better than nothing.”

A showdown was still a showdown, even if it was just a game. And with graduation looming, this would be his last opportunity.

“I figured that was the case. So then, you want to have a competition against me here at camp?” I asked.

“Bingo,” said Nagumo.

This Social Group camp had little to offer the third-years, which meant that Nagumo had purposefully taken the time out of his schedule to make a competition with me a reality. Asahina, after hearing what Nagumo said, quickly leaned in closer to Nagumo.

“So that’s what this is really about? Do not do anything awful to Ayanokouji-kun, okay?” snapped Asahina.

“So, you joined us for this meeting to protect Ayanokouji then, huh? Wow, aren’t you exceedingly kind?” said Nagumo.

“I mean, Ayanokouji-kun hasn’t done anything wrong. I feel sorry for him, with you zeroing in on him like this, Miyabi. Besides, why are you so obsessed with him, anyway?”

Sitting next to Nagumo, Asahina could get right up in his face, moving fast enough that it seemed like she was going to give him a shove on the shoulders. However, that must’ve irritated Nagumo a little bit, because he got right up in her face too, a faint half smile on his face.

“Nazuna, do you know why Horikita Suzune joined the student council?” asked Nagumo.

“Why? Probably because she wanted to follow in her big brother’s footsteps or something, right?”

“Wrong. I don’t know about right now, but at the very least, that wasn’t the case when she joined the council.”

“Huh, really? Okay then, in that case, what was her motive?”

“This guy here, in front of us. Ayanokouji has been using Suzune to monitor me,” said Nagumo.

Asahina’s mouth hung open, flabbergasted, with a “Huh?” like she didn’t understand.

“I’m sure you’ve been judging me, thinking I’m a bad student council president, but in the end, I wasn’t like that after all, was I?”

Of course, while some of Nagumo’s behaviors and actions had been overkill, he hadn’t caused so many problems as to make Horikita Manabu wary of him.

“Yes, you’re right. If anything, I think that what you did brought about positive changes in the school, Nagumo-senpai,” I replied.

“Guess you were influenced by Horikita-senpai too, for better or worse, weren’t you?” he answered.

Horikita Manabu’s presence had certainly affected me more than I had imagined, because I had no social interaction with other people before I entered this school. Manabu, who preferred stability, and Nagumo, who preferred change. These two ideologies were supposed to be constant from the very beginning.

“Because Horikita-senpai had passed the baton, in a manner of speaking,” I said.

“So, you admit it?” asked Nagumo.

“Even if I denied it now at this stage, it wouldn’t do any good.”

“W-wait a minute, hold on. Huh? What? So, I had it wrong?” asked Asahina.

Asahina was flustered, glancing back and forth between me and Nagumo with her mouth open.

“He’s got this quirk where he’s got dead-face going on, but under the surface, he’s pulling lots of different strings. Anyway…” Nagumo trailed off, pausing briefly before he spoke again. “Am I correct in assuming that you’re willing to accept a match against me?”

“Do we need to attach any conditions, apart from the rules and rewards already provided for the Social Group camp?” I asked.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought, but no, there’s not. Hypothetically, even if I were still acting student council president, it would cause offense if I somehow trapped you for personal reasons,” said Nagumo.

It was true that the school wouldn’t look kindly on it if two students from different grade levels put up stakes against each other, especially with a big penalty.

“At any rate, calling it a ‘match’ is overstating things. I’m just talking about a little wager,” said Nagumo.

“A wager?” I asked.

“Yeah. If you win, I’ll reward you with a nice gift.”

“Does that mean it’s safe for me to assume that I don’t have to hand over Private Points even if I lose?”

“Yep. Easy, huh?”

So then it wasn’t a match or a wager, but more like an extension of play. However, the fact that I apparently had no disadvantages made me feel a little uneasy.

“In that case, I don’t have any reason to refuse, but there’s truly little either of us can do considering the rules. After all, my senpai are the leaders, so they can’t participate directly in the games,” I answered.

My group’s leader was Kiryuuin, no one else. In short, the third-year students were the ones who lead while the first- and second-years competed. The stages we were standing on were different from the very beginning.

“Or perhaps you want to ignore the Social Group rules and have a contest in some other fashion?” I asked.

This experiential facility was well equipped with the tools to make that a reality.

“An off-the-field battle ignoring the Social Group activities wouldn’t be so bad, but in that case, we wouldn’t really need to hold it at this camp then,” said Nagumo.

“Indeed. If it was something at school, then we could even have a real showdown,” I added.

“If the school is telling us to participate in this social event, then I will act in accordance with the rules,” said Nagumo, before continuing with, “Formally, at least. At first, I thought about having you be the leader and have you direct the first-years and second-years,” said Nagumo.

On the surface, our third-year Kiryuuin-senpai would be the leader, but I would be the one making any actual decisions, then. And it sounded like I could expect that him not to participate in the game directly.

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea,” I replied.

“Yeah. But to make that work, you would have to be given authority over your group’s personnel, otherwise we couldn’t call it fair, could we?” said Nagumo.

Nagumo could decide upon all his group members himself. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be fair if I got stuck with a formation of group members that Kiryuuin had decided on without my input. In truth, we underclassmen weren’t told anything until we got on the bus.

“Besides,” Nagumo said, “once this exam gets started, there’s a rule that it’ll be a round-robin format. Which means that after three days of doing things slowly and leisurely, we’ll only get to compete directly against each other once at the very end, which wouldn’t be terribly exciting, would it? That’s why I decided to stop being so hung up over having the same conditions.”

With that, he pointed his index finger at me.

“You will participate in every game. And if you lose three times, you lose the contest,” he announced.

“You’re saying it doesn’t matter if the group as a whole wins or loses?” I asked.

“That’s right. Even if Kiryuuin’s group loses nineteen times in a row, as long as you don’t lose to anyone personally, you still win,”

A total of nineteen games. Which meant that I would need to get seventeen wins as an individual.

“So it’s fine even if I lose twice? You’re very kind,” I replied.

“Well, if I made the win condition that you had to be undefeated and you lost in your first game, wouldn’t that spoil all the fun?” Nagumo couldn’t be more clear about setting the three-loss threshold for his own enjoyment. “It’ll be more fun if I can have you ride it out as long as possible.”

“Huh? Aren’t you putting Ayanokouji-kun at way too much of a disadvantage? Stuff like playing cards would be completely up to luck,” Asahina said.

“There’s nothing for him to lose even if he fails, right? Obviously, I would have the right to set the rules,” said Nagumo.

“O-oh, I see… Well, I guess that might be true, but still,” said Asahina.

Asahina seemed dissatisfied, but it was true that no matter how much effort Nagumo was demanding, if there was no risk for me, there was also no reason for me to refuse.

“All I want is Ayanokouji’s defeat. It’s only natural for me to make a request that gives me a high chance of winning. And I’m even willing to pay Private Points in exchange,” said Nagumo.

“Are you sure you’re fine with toying with and defeating one of your juniors from a distance while you’re on the verge of graduation?” I asked.

“That’s perfectly fine, if I’m dealing with you,” said Nagumo.

It was a good idea to respond one way or another, and I decided I might as well react as expected. Because after all, come March, Nagumo would graduate.

“Understood. In that case, I will accept your thoughtful consideration, without reservation,” I replied.

Nagumo lightly nodded his head to show his acceptance.

“I’ve already informed Kiryuuin as well, of course. She said that you’ll be participating in all the games.”

It sounded like there were some behind-the-scenes negotiations held with the assumption that I was going to accept the offer.

“Look, I know that I’m speaking as an outsider here, but if you don’t like this, it’s okay for you to say no, nice and clear, all right? Even if he’s saying that you won’t have to pay anything when you lose, the fact remains that you’ll have lost,” said Asahina.

That was exactly what Nagumo wanted: the fact that there would be a “winner” and a “loser.”

“Ayanokouji said that he accepts, so there’s no need to say anything unnecessary.”

Asahina puffed out her cheeks in apparent discontent over Nagumo’s unkind treatment, but she backed down when she saw that I consented to it.

“Besides, my seniors appear to have been rather unreserved in their selection of people. The other groups were a little taken aback when they saw the placements,” I remarked.

Far from appearing disgruntled, he smiled in response, as though it were only natural.

“A contest is a contest, even if it’s some stupid social camp. And as the former student council president, I have to show some dignity,” replied Nagumo.

Apart from his battle with me, he apparently also intended to win the Social Group activities that he’d be participating in as a leader. That was none of my concern though, so Nagumo was free to do what he wished.

“Even in the unlikely event you get on a winning streak, it’ll be easier to stop you because I can give commands directly,” said Nagumo.

“Whoa. You really are merciless, Miyabi,” remarked Asahina.

“No, that isn’t true. I believe that Nagumo-senpai’s approach is correct,” I replied.

That would also assess whether someone could create a situation where they had the advantage and then drag their opponent into that arena. Due to the nature of the competition, where you would only be competing against each group once in a relaxed manner, it was safe to say that it would be virtually impossible to count how many times a particular individual had participated in games.

That was also a desirable windfall. As a second-year student, it would be far too conspicuous if I had to take on group battles, but it would be possible to avoid the spotlight if I was just fighting individual battles. While Nagumo had been setting the stage to give himself an advantage, he had given me consideration as well.

“It seems like you’re misunderstanding something, Nazuna. Winners and losers aren’t necessarily determined by whether someone is exceptional. To make proper use of competent people, the person in charge must be even more capable, otherwise their competence won’t be utilized to the full potential.”

Nagumo was right. No matter how many shoji pieces you had, you still might not be able to win with unpolished skills.

“Sorry I’m late.” The voice was Kiryuuin’s, butting in as she appeared in the lounge. “Has the discussion reached a conclusion yet?”

“Yeah, settled without incident. Just as planned, Ayanokouji and I will be having a showdown. Ayanokouji,” he addressed me specifically, “Kiryuuin had gotten wind of me trying to have a contest with you and volunteered to take on this role.”

Kiryuuin nodded to indicate he was telling the truth.

“If necessary, I’ll even hand over leadership authority to you. Of course, on the surface, I’ll act as though I was the one who selected the participants. If I do that, then you can have your showdown, even if it’s as a group,” said Kiryuuin.

Kiryuuin made that proposition, which would be killing two birds with one stone, but I suspected that, more than anything else, she simply wanted to have a good seat to watch events unfold.

“I see. That was the part I was somewhat stuck on. Now I understand why I’m in a group with those three from Class A,” I replied.

I bumped into Yamamura when I went to the convenience store with Hashimoto and Morishita, and then by sheer coincidence Kiryuuin happened to drop in. That had probably been the deciding factor in choosing them for my group, to save me the time and hassle of having to develop a relationship with someone from scratch if I took over from Kiryuuin.

“Well, I don’t know about your current relationships in depth, after all. They were the ones I happened to encounter by chance, and the rest were chosen at random. It would be difficult to demonstrate your real ability if you’re not comfortable within your group, no?” said Kiryuuin.

Hashimoto and Hiyori already seemed to be helping things along.

“I appreciate the consideration, but I think I’ll have to pass on your offer. Unfortunately, I’m not good at socializing. If anything, I’ll have my hands full just getting to know my juniors, forget about properly making use of them,” I replied.

Kiryuuin responded by saying that was unfortunate, though her words fell flat.

“Although I have to say, I hadn’t imagined that you would’ve been involved in this matter, Kiryuuin-senpai,” I remarked.

Nagumo and Kiryuuin weren’t exactly good friends. Rather, they stood at opposite ends, in conflict with one another. Kiryuuin smiled at my comment.

“At any rate, I bet you’re glad this contest is going ahead, eh, Nagumo? Though it’s just a pity that the third-year students can’t participate in the games directly,” said Kiryuuin.

I had no way to know if Kiryuuin’s words reflected her genuine feelings regarding the Social Group camp.

“If the rules allowed us to participate directly,” said Nagumo, “would you have taken it seriously?”

“It would have been a rare opportunity to work with Ayanokouji, so of course I would have met expectations,” she replied.

“Hah. Sounds like you think highly of Ayanokouji too. If you want, although we both know that this is a social event, how about you and I have a little contest of our own, separately? Since we’re both third-years, there’s no need to go easy on each other. I’ll even put up a ticket to Class A, as a wager,” said Nagumo.

“Sorry, but I’m going to have to turn down your offer. That ticket is soaked with the blood and sweat of our entire grade level. That’s too significant a thing for me to accept when I wasn’t involved in the first place, wouldn’t you say?”

Nagumo and Kiryuuin were both confident, but Kiryuuin didn’t seem to even consider that she might lose. She was good at getting the last word in—and this time, those words said that any contest would be a formality and her victory was assured.

“That’s too bad,” was all Nagumo said.

However, Nagumo was used to it. It sounded like he didn’t take her very seriously after spending three years with her.

“Well then, I have some things to do as the leader, so I’ll be excusing myself now. See you later.” Her business with us taken care of Kiryuuin pardoned herself and left.

“Fuuka-chan is as cool as ever, isn’t she?” said Asahina with admiration in her voice.

“Sure, but she’s still just a woman,” said Nagumo.

“Ugh, Miyabi,” Asahina replied, “that comment was just horrible. You’re the sort of person who can’t complain if he gets canceled in this day and age.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m just trying to rise above the people of my own gender, that’s all. Discrimination is bullshit,” said Nagumo.

Which meant that he couldn’t get passionate about competition with anyone but another man.

“Even so, the way you said it was kind of problematic,” replied Asahina.

She had a point there. It wouldn’t have hurt if he had expressed his thoughts a little more delicately, so as not to offend. I got up from the sofa before Nagumo and Asahina followed suit, and the three of us left the lounge.

“After this, you’d better practice or do whatever to prepare for what’s to come,” said Nagumo.

“Yes, I will,” I replied.

“Ahh, you finally came out! You’re done talking now, riiight?”

Moments before Nagumo and I were going to part ways, Amasawa approached us, apparently having gotten tired of waiting at the end of the hall. At the sight and sound of her, Nagumo scratched the back of his head in annoyance, like Ugh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.

“Did you not hear what I said? I told you later , didn’t I?” said Nagumo.

“Come oooon, it’s fine, isn’t it? I work twice as hard as other people during exams,” said Amasawa.

“At the moment, I can’t trust anything you say. The next time you do something selfish, you won’t get any time on stage. Remember that,” said Nagumo.

“Jeez, so strict. Fine, I get it. I will do as I’m told.”

“Miyabi, this girl… Um…” began Asahina.

“Amasawa. Class 1-A,” said Nagumo, finishing her thought for her.

“Ah, yes, of course. Amasawa-chan, that’s right. You must be really amazing to be invited to be part of Miyabi’s group, huh?” said Asahina.

“Well, enough, I suppose,” said Amasawa.

Both her Academic and Physical Ability scores were As, so it was no wonder she was selected. However, taking into account factors like group integration and simple tact, Amasawa wasn’t exactly the first candidate to come to mind.

“It’s not like I evaluated her myself. I don’t know if she heard talk about it somewhere, but she already knew about the Social Group camp,” said Nagumo.

“That’s why I promoted myself, to be part of the group. I told him that I’d contribute to getting first place,” added Amasawa.

“To be honest, I agonized a little over whether or not to let her in.”

Nagumo neglected to specify whether that was due to Amasawa’s personality or his suspicions about my relationship with her. If he ultimately appointed her to the group, it was likely because he determined those things to be trivial.