Chapter 4: The Start of a One-Year Period

Chapter 4: The Start of a One-Year Period

Chapter 4:

The Start of a One-Year Period

N OW, LET ME WIND the timeline back to just a little earlier, right after the opening ceremony. I didn’t return to the Class A classroom from the gymnasium, but rather, I headed straight to the faculty office. However, since a faculty meeting was in progress, I made my way to the chairman’s office instead. When I informed him of my intentions, he seemed somewhat surprised, but he didn’t pursue the matter too deeply, which perhaps meant he had been told about it by that man. Afterward, he confirmed that I had the twenty million points in my possession, a check was arranged to confirm the source of the generous sum, and the transfer was hastily initiated.

It was probably going to take some time for Mashima-sensei, who had just learned about my transfer before homeroom, to understand that this was real. Class C’s homeroom teacher still had a shade of bewilderment on his face, but he cleared his throat and turned his gaze toward me.

“I think that it might be a good idea to do a self-introduction at this juncture. What do you think?” he asked.

Of course, it wasn’t like I had just come to this school for the first time. Though we’ve been in different classes all this time, I had everyone’s face and name memorized. All of the students in Class C recognized me as well. However, I still needed to perform my social obligations properly, for formality’s sake.

“I know that we’ve gone through the opening ceremony already, but allow me to introduce myself: I’m Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, and I just transferred to this class by using twenty million Private Points. I cannot replace Sakayanagi, who has voluntarily withdrawn from school. However, if all of you, my classmates, still have the will to fight, then I am confident that I can help in breaking us out of this situation, even after the major setback this class has suffered,” I announced.

I was concise, but I made sure to convey what was necessary. A safe choice of words, made after reflecting on when I failed to introduce myself in my first year. Though I thought that I had gotten a passing mark, I wondered if my intentions had been conveyed to the students. While everyone gawked at me without uttering a word, one student broke the silence and gave me a round of applause.

“Welcome, Ayanokouji!”

It was none other than Hashimoto Masayoshi, the biggest investor in my transfer to Class C. Following his lead, several other people joined in with some scattered applause. Despite this, I could see that this was a situation where not everyone was quite so welcoming. Not all the looks I was getting were filled with warmth. Rather, many were cold, and the majority of the students seemed to genuinely not be welcoming me with open arms.

Of course, I wasn’t expecting everyone to be receptive from the start, not by any means. Rather, I wouldn’t expect such a thing. The reason being that, if I were warmly welcomed, it’d be because the class was made up of a bunch of cowardly wimps. It would have been like the class had, as a result of the loss of Sakayanagi, lost their decision-making abilities and left everything in the hands of some untrustworthy helping hand. They needed to be alert, suspicious, and even demand results quickly and assertively. However, Mashima-sensei, who had no idea that his students were contemplating such things, interpreted the feeling in the air to be one of awkwardness, and resumed homeroom.

“Now then, as for your seat, Ayanokouji… Let’s see…” he said aloud.

He looked around the classroom, still unable to hide the look of bewilderment on his face. There were currently thirty-six students in this class, excluding me. If you were to look at it in terms of formation alone, there was more than enough space to add four seats without any problems. It would have been better for me to have been placed somewhere in the fourth row, where there were fewer students…or was it possible that the class would end up changing all of the seating assignments? Before Mashima-sensei could give his answer, a female student seated in the far back near the window sharply raised her hand.

“I think that in front of me would be a good seat for now.”

Perhaps Mashima-sensei hadn’t expected such a declaration to be made right then, or perhaps he was surprised that the student in question made such a declaration, but he appeared visibly puzzled, so much so that he couldn’t hide it.

“In front of you, Morishita…?” he replied.

That’s right. It was none other than the oddball Morishita Ai who had made that declaration.

“Yes, indeed. Allow me to explain. First of all, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka has experienced a sudden life change, or, in other words, he is new to this class and in an unfamiliar situation. Therefore, if you were to suddenly place him in the center of the classroom, for instance, he will likely end up retreating into his shell like a gloomy, depressed loner. However, it would be much too kind to give him the most comfortable position, a spot in the far back near the window, which many students envy, or, in other words, the same position that I am currently in. Also, since we were enemies until just moments ago, he will be considered a foreign entity residing within this class. Therefore, it will be necessary to keep a watchful eye on him. After taking all of these factors into consideration, I have humbly decided that it would be better for him to be seated in front of me. If there are any objections to this proposal, I would ask that they be brought forward here and now,” stated Morishita.

The students had no counterarguments in response to Morishita’s logic, which was mixed with dogmatism and bias. Well, it wasn’t really a big issue for me personally no matter where I sat. Also, as a homeroom teacher, Mashima-sensei probably wasn’t going to reject the proposal flatly out of hand if there were no objections from the other students about the seating arrangement. There was only one obstacle that remained: whether the student sitting in front of Morishita was going to accept this proposal…

“Sugio, are you fine wi—” began Mashima-sensei, speaking up to get confirmation from Sugio Hiroshi, who was currently seated in that spot.

“It’s more than fine. I beg you, please change my s—I mean, it’s all right to change my seat,” said Sugio.

He suddenly interrupted Mashima-sensei to accept the seating change. If anything, he looked visibly happy to be moved.

“I see. Well, then, Sugio, how about we have you move to an empty spot in the back row?” said Mashima-sensei.

“Yes, Sensei!” he exclaimed.

Sugio, after giving a nice, polite response to the teacher, promptly collected his things and immediately stood up from his seat. Now that the students were satisfied with the new seating arrangements, Mashima-sensei quickly brought in a new chair and desk for me.

“All right, Ayanokouji, take your seat. I’ll continue homeroom,” said Mashima-sensei.

“Understood,” I replied.

I was then positioned in front of Morishita, just as she had suggested. As soon as I sat down, Morishita’s voice echoed from behind.

“I look forward to collaborating with you, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka,” she said.

“Yeah, same here,” I replied.

The entirety of Class C was still somewhat unsettled, but unlike Horikita’s class, which I had been familiar with, it was considerably quiet here by comparison. I’m sure that even though the students here had been told in advance that I would be transferring in, more than a few of them probably thought that I wasn’t actually going to do it.

It seemed like their fundamental qualities as students were in harmony. I was grateful for this environment, which would allow me to easily make moves at this current point in time, saving me a lot of time and effort. Through OAA, I already knew the faces and names of all of the students, and I had a surface-level grasp on their abilities. However, there were many aspects of an individual student’s capabilities that couldn’t be seen through school assignments alone, just as was the case for me personally. Getting to know these students would be one of my top priorities as I began my new school life.

With only one year left, I couldn’t take things slow. However, there was no way that I could rush or compromise, like by immediately opening up to people simply because I didn’t have much time left. I needed to strike a balance.

“What are you thinking about, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka?” Morishita whispered to me softly from behind.

“About what I’m going to do from here on out,” I replied.

“Can you make one hundred friends?” she asked.

For some reason, she said that in a somewhat rhythmic fashion. It was certainly true that getting to know my classmates wasn’t unrelated to the idea of making friends, I supposed.

“That’s not what I was thinking about…” I replied. Since her phrasing was somewhat off, I’d decided to deny it.

“Are you not thinking about how you would like to eat onigiri with one hundred people?” asked Morishita.

“I’m not… Actually, I don’t even understand what you mean. Why onigiri and why one hundred people?” I asked.

And furthermore, why was she continuing this rhythmic intonation?

“Please turn around and face me,” said Morishita.

When I followed her instructions and turned around, I saw Morishita glaring at me with a hard stare.

“Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, contrary to expectations, you are an idiot, aren’t you?”

“That’s quite a thing to say,” I replied. I thought that the idea of making one hundred friends and wanting to eat onigiri together with them was an unrealistic notion, though.

“I can’t believe that you don’t even know this set-up for a joke,” she said. “No, it’s such a common, well-understood conversation starter that one couldn’t even call it a set-up. Are you okay in the head?”

“That’s a conversation starter that probably no one would understand,” I replied, earning me a deep, deep sigh from Morishita.

“I suppose it would be more accurate to say that you are ignorant of the ways of the world rather than an idiot,” she said.

She seemed to have felt dejected by this of her own accord, but I had absolutely no clue why she was feeling that way. Could I make one hundred friends? Did I want to eat onigiri with one hundred people? I tried to calmly think through it for a moment, but I just couldn’t understand what it meant after all.

“That’s enough. Make sure you face forward properly so that you can listen to what the homeroom teacher is saying in earnest,” said Morishita.

Morishita, you were the one who made me turn around though…

4.1

T HE SCHOOL DAY ENDED after Mashima-sensei gave us an explanation regarding the schedule and classes from tomorrow onward. Unlike the previous two years, third-year students seemed like they would have to make substantial changes in how they spent their time. It was one of the turning points of their lives: They would need to decide on their future path by the summer and work toward it in parallel with their school activities. For those who had already decided on their futures, or for some students like me who were already on a set track even if they didn’t do anything, this was irrelevant, though.

“If no one has any further questions, this concludes today’s homeroom,” announced Mashima-sensei.

Mashima-sensei decided to bring today to a close. It was possible that the students of Class 3-A, beginning with Horikita, would come after me in droves as part of the aftermath of them not being informed that I was transferring to Class 3-C until just moments before it happened. Still, that didn’t mean I was going to run away in a panic. Even if I did, it was a given that I’d be hounded for answers at some point in the future anyway. Though, if such a ruckus were to occur here, that could lead to unforeseen troubles arising.

It would probably be safer to change locations before that happened, if possible. Besides, I had a meeting with a certain student later. I was just about to get up from my seat when homeroom ended, but Hashimoto quickly pulled out his chair and got up, practically flying out of his seat.

“Yo! Hey everybody, I know this real sudden, but how ’bout we throw a class-wide welcome party for Ayanokouji? Let’s live it up at Keyaki Mall!” said Hashimoto, offering a suggestion to his classmates.

However, immediately afterward, the class was enveloped in a tense, prickly vibe. I quietly, stealthily settled back down onto the chair after I had almost gotten up, so as not to be noticed. Mashima-sensei too, who was about to leave the classroom himself, stopped and turned to check the reactions of the students. For a few seconds, there was a period of quiet, where no one said anything. It was Yoshida who broke the silence.

“Sorry, but I’m against that,” he said. He uttered that rejection indifferently, with as little emotion injected into it as possible.

“Hey, come on now. Why, dude?” replied Hashimoto, slumping his shoulders in an almost overexaggerated fashion after his parade had gotten rained on. “Think about how Ayanokouji must feel after suddenly bein’ kicked to the curb by his close friends?” he added.

Did he think I’d been kicked to the curb? At any rate, I needed to try and parse out how I should feel. Well, at the very least, I assumed that I shouldn’t…feel good, anyway.

This development was frustrating—not because I wasn’t welcomed, but because I couldn’t just stand on the sidelines as a bystander in this situation when the vibe in the classroom was worsening due to my presence. I had never thought that someone would’ve proposed a welcome party in a situation where I hadn’t established any kind of relationship with anyone, but now that the suggestion had been made, I had no choice but to observe. That was because I was in no position to be able to say something like “By all means, sure,” or “I refuse.” Personally, I thought it would’ve been better if they just carried on as usual, but…Hashimoto had, for his part, suggested this with my best interests in mind, so I couldn’t take him to task over it.

“It’s not like I’m rejecting Ayanokouji himself, really,” said Yoshida. “We were prepared to welcome him into the class, and that’s precisely why we all contributed Private Points toward his class transfer. But you do get that we can’t honestly welcome him with open arms in this situation, right? Now that we’ve fallen to Class C, we can’t afford to fail a single one of the upcoming special exams. He needs to first produce results that demonstrate he’s on our side and beneficial to our class. Once he does, we will all recognize Ayanokouji as a friend and ally and welcome him even without your say-so, Hashimoto.”

Yoshida, after giving his reasons for refusing the welcome party, then got up from his seat. Machida chimed in next.

“I’m in agreement with Yoshida,” he said. “I don’t feel like I could bring myself to throw a welcome party with a fake smile on my face when he hasn’t done anything yet and there’s still a non-zero chance that he might be a spy.”

Then he and the other Class C students started to leave the room one after another.

“Damn dude…guess I messed that one up,” said Hashimoto. He turned to me, scratching his head dejectedly as a small sign of apology, but I gestured back to him that I didn’t mind.

Other students started leaving the room one after another, and in almost no time at all, there were only a few remaining. But that was expected, as we had been enemies up until this point, and I hadn’t been very engaged with the students of this class. Incidentally, I suppose that’s why Hashimoto, Morishita, Yamamura, and Sanada were among the remaining students. They were the ones I had cooperated with in the past and with whom I had shared a few friendly interactions. Putting it another way, aside from them, there was no one else who stayed in the room.

“I see that you are magnificently unpopular, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. It is almost as though you are an unsold commodity that has remained on the shelf , ” said Morishita.

“It’s only natural that they wouldn’t welcome someone new with open arms,” I replied.

“That may be true, but would the same thing have happened if, hypothetically speaking, it had been a student like Ichinose Honami, Kushida Kikyou, or Hirata Yousuke who had transferred into this class?” asked Morishita.

“Well, that’s…” I began.

I tried to imagine how things would have gone if it had been one of the students she listed here in my place. Even with only a little effort, I could clearly picture the scene in my mind.

“I’m sure that, while this likely wouldn’t be everyone in class, someone like them would be met with smiling faces on all sides,” said Morishita.

“Well…sure, maybe so,” I conceded.

“No, not ‘maybe so.’ That is how it would be. Also, that was a somewhat poor attempt to get insurance on your part,” said Morishita.

Morishita shattered my slight “maybe so” future with all of her might.

“Which means that, in other words, the fact that you are unpopular is an undeniable truth, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka,” added Morishita.

She was laying into me harshly. I couldn’t deny what she was saying even if I wanted to.

“Shall we start with you accepting that reality?” she asked.

“I guess I’d better, yeah…” I replied.

I didn’t know for sure, but I felt that maybe I had grown a little bit sentimental. Yamamura and Sanada also left apologetically as Morishita’s sticking points continued to ring in my ears. After watching those two go, Hashimoto approached and gently patted me on the right shoulder.

“Sorry, Ayanokouji. The number of people joining us will be a teensy bit, uh, lower than I expected, but lemme give you a welcome party, ’kay?” said Hashimoto.

“Who will be attending?” I asked.

“As of right now, the only confirmed attendee is me,” said Hashimoto.

That really wasn’t a “teensy bit” whatsoever, but I saw no reason to refuse. If even one person was going to welcome me, I thought I’d go ahead and try to be open to it.

“Oh, hey, that’s right. You’ll come, won’t you, Morishita? After all, it’ll be extra unappealing if there aren’t any girls there,” said Hashimoto.

Hashimoto called out to Morishita, who still remained in the classroom, desperate to get a second person to come. But…

“I will decline.”

Morishita turned him down flatly without even a second delay.

“Wait, wait, hold on. Come on, don’t turn me down. You’re on our side too, aren’t you?” protested Hashimoto.

“Please stop. It would be problematic for me to be lumped together with a traitor and a social outcast,” declared Morishita. “Also, I have plans to embark on an adventure after class, so please excuse me. Poof!”

She then hurriedly grabbed her bag, stood up, and practically dashed out of the classroom. With her departure, only a few students, both male and female, remained. The female student sitting next to me was staring at me, but when her eyes met Hashimoto’s, she instantly got up from her seat. It seemed like it was inevitable that it was just going to be the two of us at this welcome party.

“So, what’s this adventure she’s embarking on anyway?” I asked.

“Oh, don’t pay any attention to her choice of words,” Hashimoto replied. “You only really need to listen to like half…no, like one-fifth of the words that come out of Morishita’s mouth. It’s pointless to take what she says seriously.” Clearly dismayed, Hashimoto gently patted me on the back and walked ahead. “It ain’t good for the body to be breathin’ in this congested air. How about we head somewhere else?”

With Hashimoto leading the way, I left the classroom.

4.2

H ASHIMOTO AND I left Class C together and stepped out into the hallway. It seemed like we were the first class to start leaving, so that must have meant that the other classes hadn’t finished their first homeroom of the year quite yet.

“Guess this means we can get you outta here without any fuss on the first day of your transfer,” remarked Hashimoto.

“It’s only a matter of time before something happens though,” I replied.

It wasn’t only the students in Horikita’s class who would have been talking about the transfer. It was likely a hot topic between members of Ichinose’s class and Ryuuen’s class as well. Most likely, with each passing hour, more attention would be piled onto me, and some students were bound to approach me out of curiosity.

“If you don’t want to be bothered, we could always go to karaoke…but I suppose two guys bein’ all alone in a locked room together might feel a little, y’know,” said Hashimoto.

“I agree. I’ll pass on that,” I replied.

Perhaps Hashimoto was seriously planning on throwing me a welcome party, because we headed straight to the school exit together, directly leaving the building almost as if our escape from any stares directed my way were preplanned.

“Still, I gotta say, it’s like, I’m really, really wowed by your boldness, dude… I had no idea that you were seriously planning to transfer into our class. And what’s more, you used my money to do it,” said Hashimoto.

“How many times have you complained about that now? It seems like you really didn’t like doing it,” I replied.

It hadn’t been that long since I told Hashimoto about my transfer, but still, he brought it up at almost every opportunity.

“Well, yeah, of course I’ve got thoughts on the matter, man, that’s normal. My money was a valuable insurance policy for me after all,” said Hashimoto.

It was a considerable sum that he had obtained by working himself to the bone, going in all directions, and even betraying Sakayanagi in the end. No wonder his resentment practically came pouring out of him, since he had to give up most of his Private Points.

“Would you want to nullify it then, if you could go back to before the transfer was decided?” I asked.

“Well…to be honest, I’d probably be lying if I said I wasn’t of two minds about it,” replied Hashimoto.

“That’s fair. You might have had a future where you could’ve saved up twenty million Private Points on your own,” I answered.

Hashimoto responded with a small scornful chuckle and nodded, never denying what I said. It was a tough road to save up as an individual, but if you could, you were 99 percent guaranteed to graduate from Class A. That was precisely why it took courage and determination to abandon that dream.

“You’ve got to shoulder an appropriate amount of risk in order to graduate from Class A,” I remarked.

“You said it, man. I’ve really crossed a number of dangerous bridges in my own way over these past two years, y’know? I took part in the fight between Sakayanagi and Katsuragi, and I brought Ryuuen and Katsuragi together on that uninhabited island. I even rebelled against Sakayanagi! I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’ve done and what results I’ve achieved,” sighed Hashimoto.

Hashimoto spoke as though other students’ business were things that he had been deeply involved with of his own accord. Though for sure, it was certainly true that his actions would’ve definitely involved risk.

“In that case, you have to interpret this move positively. You succeeded in pulling me into your class because of your risk-taking efforts. That’s an undeniable accomplishment,” I replied.

“Yeah, I guess,” he answered.

Even so, Hashimoto couldn’t be genuinely happy about this, and he couldn’t be optimistic either. That was understandable, though. No matter how much stock Hashimoto put in me, we were currently in Class C. If there was going to be a transfer, the odds that Hashimoto would win would’ve been higher had he transferred into Horikita’s class. Or if he and I had both transferred together into Ryuuen’s class. Without a doubt, either one of those options would’ve been easier for him to accept.

Of course, it was precisely because such thoughts were so transparent that I had thrust two choices upon Hashimoto: Either he would give up his assets and accept me, or he wouldn’t. If he had refused, then there wouldn’t have been any cooperation from me until graduation. He would have fought for a year while making an enemy of his class, all while in a position that was obstinately antagonistic against me. There would be nowhere where his personal safety would be guaranteed, and he would’ve never known when Ryuuen would turn on him either. I made him weigh his options to see which choice would’ve given him a higher chance of winning.

“Believe you me, Ayanokouji. You’re gonna seriously shoot for Class A from here on out. I’m gonna make you stand out in spectacular fashion, so much so that you’ll hate it. Got it?” said Hashimoto.

He spoke excitedly, intensely expressing his wishful thinking. I figured that he thought he had the right to insist on that much, as a matter of course. It was certainly true that Hashimoto’s contribution was a major factor in lowering the hurdle for my transfer. However, that didn’t mean that Hashimoto’s wishes would be granted so easily.

“I’m sure I told you when I talked about my transfer. There were no guarantees about the choice to bring me into your class. I said that you would just have to make your choice based on whether you trusted me or not,” I replied.

Was I going to go for Class A or not? Even if the assumption was that I had the intention to do so, I didn’t tell him what the plan to get there was, what kind of strategy would need to be executed, or even provide an outlook on the situation. That was precisely why Hashimoto hadn’t been able to give an immediate response when prompted to make a decision about me, and even now, felt ambivalent.

But Hashimoto had antagonized Sakayanagi, and the fact was that he ended up being complicit in her voluntary withdrawal from school as a result. Even if not all of the students in Class C knew everything about him, there were still more than a few who were wary of and disliked him. It was by no means a comfortable class for him to be in. He was put into the kind of position where, if there were any inconveniences, he would be the very first to be cast aside. It had been a substantial risk for him to invite me in, when there was no guarantee that I would be even remotely helpful.

“Yeah, I know… I know you’re right,” said Hashimoto.

Despite all of his uncertainties, Hashimoto had ultimately decided to accept me. It wasn’t the ideal situation of using twenty million Private Points right before graduation day so that he could graduate from Class A with certainty; he went with another ideal, which was to graduate from Class A by working with me. Now, the person in question had concluded that it was not an ideal any longer, but a reality.

Hashimoto continued, “I accepted your terms, yeah? But if you have some idea about the road ahead, you could at least tell me a little bit about it. That’s what buddies do.”

“What’s the rush? I’m simply worried that you’ll betray me like you did Sakayanagi,” I replied.

“H-hey, come on dude, knock it off with the bad jokes. I’ve bet everything on you Ayanokouji. And besides, I am literally broke right now, man, I’ve got nothing! Remember? What would I even get from betraying you here?!” he wailed, persisting stoutheartedly in the face of my cold, dismissive words.

Seems like he had gotten flustered after all, because Hashimoto’s roundabout way of speaking had now transformed into frantic gesturing in an appeal to show his innocence.

“Even so, that’s your thing, Hashimoto. Surely there’s at least a 1 or 2 percent chance that you’re plotting something, is there not?” I replied.

“No, no, no, there isn’t, seriously. Come on man, I’m fine with other people suspecting me still, but can you at least cut me a break?” said Hashimoto.

Of course, deep down, I wasn’t concerned about whether Hashimoto was going to betray me or not. For Hashimoto’s sake, I figured now was the right time to cut down on the tension a bit.

“Okay, I probably went a bit too far there. I wouldn’t have been able to make this transfer to Class C happen so easily without your cooperation. Let’s talk about some thoughts about… No, let’s discuss a plan of action for the future,” I replied.

“Sheesh, you should’ve just honestly come out and said so right from the start then, dude,” sighed Hashimoto.

I took out my phone and made sure that I had gotten a reply. I figured that it might be better to take Hashimoto with me to my rendezvous later.

“I’m going to head over to Keyaki Mall now,” I declared.

“Meaning that what you’re hoping for isn’t a welcome party, but an opportunity to tell me about your plan?” he asked.

When I nodded in affirmation, Hashimoto responded with a satisfied nod of his own.

“By the way…what about you, Morishita?” I turned my head as I called out to Morishita, who had likely been watching us from the shadows. Though she had supposedly left the classroom earlier, she appeared from behind me.

“Well done, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka,” said Morishita. “Though your lack of popularity will get you no presents, you make up for it by picking up on the presence of others.”

Was that some corny wordplay with the word “presence”? I think I understood what she meant this time, unlike the one hundred friends thing from earlier.

“The hell, so you were curious in the end, huh? What happened to going on an ‘adventure’ or whatever?” sighed Hashimoto.

“The truth shall now be revealed. This is the adventure. The suddenly arrived Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, the one synonymous with unpopularity, and Hashimoto Masayoshi, the one synonymous with betrayal. What would you call coming into contact with these two but an adventure?” asked Morishita.

“That isn’t… Ugh, forget it. It’s only a waste of time trying to correct you,” retorted Hashimoto.

“You finally admitted it yourself. That you are a traitor,” Morishita stated.

“Oh, I see. Are you sure you’re okay being seen with a traitor like me? You turned down the welcome party earlier, remember?” said Hashimoto.

“I do not plan to attend a welcome party. It’s just that it is natural that, as a part of this class, I would want to talk about the future course of it. You are most likely going to be meeting with Ichinose Honami later, yes?” said Morishita.

Morishita touched on what my plans were for later that day with a sly grin on her face.

“Ichinose? Why are you bringing up her name now?” asked Hashimoto.

“Heh heh heh . From the looks of it, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka does not trust traitors after all. It seems he has not told you his plans for the future, or even just the end goal.”

Even Hashimoto, who had managed to keep a semblance of a smile on his face until this point, now stiffened slightly, responding to what Morishita said as though it was a provocation.

“Don’t tell me you talked to Morishita first…” he asked.

I could see the thought running through Hashimoto’s head as clear as day: Without me? The person cooperating with you the most?

“The consent of all members of Class C was an ironclad requirement for my transfer. You have a huge target on your back, so you weren’t the person I could ask to make sure the class was fine with me joining. And besides, you have a high opinion of me, whereas Morishita is deeply suspicious of me. It was necessary to give her a reasonable amount of information in order to secure her cooperation,” I explained.

“Well…okay, fine,” Hashimoto said. “It’s not like I don’t get what you’re tryin’ to say, it’s just…I dunno, I don’t feel happy about it. It’s like I lost to Morishita. Well, whatever! You can make up for it by letting me hear what you’ve got to say later.”

With a sigh, Hashimoto started walking toward Keyaki Mall, perhaps because he thought that standing around and talking about this any further would’ve been pointless. I started following after him, and Morishita lined up right beside me.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

“What?” asked Morishita.

“I already explained the plan of action to you, so you don’t need to go out of your way to join us today,” I replied.

The fact that she had been hiding earlier and was now tagging along suggested that she had set her sights on joining up with us from the very beginning.

“It may be true that I don’t need to hear from you , Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. However, Ichinose Honami is a different matter,” she said. “Until I see it with my own two eyes, I cannot judge whether Class D, that class full of gullible good-natured goody-goodies, will be of any use to us or not. At the very least, if their leader remains the one I know, I do not hold out much hope.”

Morishita was trying to say that Ichinose was trustworthy but not dependable. That Ichinose’s strength encompassed weakness at the same time. As Morishita saw it, Ichinose was unreliable as a leader, to put it bluntly. It sounded as if she was saying that she wanted to confirm for herself whether there was any point in joining forces with Class D.

“In that case, go ahead and sniff out your own keen, great detectivelike deductions to your heart’s content. But refrain from any funny business,” I replied.

“That goes without saying,” said Morishita.

The three of us headed for the café, the meeting place that Ichinose and I had agreed upon beforehand.

4.3

W E EACH ORDERED our respective drinks at the café counter. Though I initially had zero points in my possession after my transfer, I had borrowed twenty thousand Private Points from Hashimoto with the condition that I was going to pay him back with the deposit made into our accounts this May, so payment wasn’t a problem. While I was waiting for my coffee and getting my receipt, I absentmindedly gazed at the poster advertising that the café was looking for part-time workers.

Similar notices were posted in other stores here and there, not just in the café. As far as the students at this school were concerned, though they did meet the age requirements, they weren’t permitted to work because having a part-time job in itself was prohibited. However, teachers weren’t going to be working those part-time jobs either. If so, were these posters meant to be a call to those people already working in Keyaki Mall in the hope that they’d change jobs? I couldn’t help but wonder.

I waited while thinking about meaningless things like that, and soon the coffee I ordered was ready. Since Hashimoto had secured a spacious seating area for us in the back, I also grabbed his drink for him and made my way over to him. After a few minutes, I saw Ichinose enter the café, gently waving at me. After she had finished a brief exchange with the worker at the counter, she approached with a cup in hand.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Ayanokouji-kun,” she said. “And I see that Hashimoto-kun and Morishita-san are with you as well. Hello.”

Ichinose directed a polite greeting to Morishita, who only nodded slightly but didn’t say a word. It was easy to tell that these two didn’t see each other much on a daily basis.

“There’s no problem if the two of them are here, is there?” I asked.

“Of course not, it’s no problem at all,” Ichinose replied.

Hashimoto wore a wry smile after hearing this brief exchange between Ichinose and me.

“I see that you don’t seem surprised… Does that mean you knew? About Ayanokouji’s transfer, I mean,” asked Hashimoto.

If Ichinose had first heard about my shocking transfer from the school this morning, then her surprise would have naturally come to the forefront. However, she had come to meet us without even feigning surprise, nor did she seem the slightest bit curious about my change in class. It was no surprise that Hashimoto reached the conclusion he did.

“Since a little while ago, yes,” she replied.

“Morishita, you also seem to know that Ichinose knew about it beforehand, from the looks of it,” remarked Hashimoto.

“I seemed to have known that she knew, hmm? So that must mean you remember all those who didn’t know, yes? That’s a rather interesting way of phrasing it,” replied Morishita.

“What are you on about? Are you trying to dodge the question by saying something that doesn’t make any sense?” answered Hashimoto.

“I have no such intention. Of course, I knew that she knew. The only person here who hadn’t heard anything at all was…” Slowly and smoothly, Morishita thrust her index finger toward Hashimoto, pointing directly at his eyes in a nasty, mean-spirited manner.

Hashimoto gently brushed her finger aside and looked back at her with resentment. “So I was the only one out of the loop, huh? This ‘relationship of deep mutual trust’ we have going on here sure is making me wanna cry,” he said.

“She’s only talking about the people present right now. I haven’t told any of the other classmates,” I replied.

“The same goes for my class as well,” added Ichinose. “Everyone was surprised when they heard the news, except for me.”

Even with that kindhearted follow-up from me and Ichinose, it seemed that Hashimoto still felt that this wasn’t something he could just swallow so readily.

“Thanks for the consolation attempt, but I’m going to go for the throat now and demand answers, including about why Ichinose was told about the transfer,” said Hashimoto. He was scowling now, not so much because of the strategy plans, but due to other factors. “Seriously though, why Ichinose? Don’t tell me you broke up with Karuizawa so you could date Ichinose?! Is that why you told her about all this?”

He came out and asked me that question without any hesitation. Had Hashimoto intuitively sensed the closeness between me and Ichinose, or was it unjust suspicion on his part, I wondered.

“That’s a rather audacious question. However, there is a part of me that somewhat agrees with you,” added Morishita.

They both looked at both me and Ichinose in turn.

“I wouldn’t talk about my transfer just because of circumstances like that,” I replied.

“If that’s the case, how come Ichinose knew about your transfer when she isn’t even in the class you transferred into? You got a properly convincing reason for that?” demanded Hashimoto.

“Of course. It’s because the cooperation of Ichinose and her class is indispensable for Class C to aim for Class A in the year ahead. Without Ichinose’s cooperation, my transfer into Class C wouldn’t have become a reality,” I explained.

“Okay this is a big deal you’re bringing up now… What do you mean by cooperation?” asked Hashimoto.

“An alliance with Ichinose Honami’s class… So, you were serious about that,” Morishita mumbled.

I nodded in response to what Morishita had quietly muttered to me.

“Huh?” blinked Hashimoto, his face distorting into a look of flabbergasted shock at sudden mention of a word like alliance .

“I am serious. In fact, the truth is that Ichinose and I have entered into a full-fledged alliance. Not just situational cooperation for the short term, but we have an agreement to fight together hand in hand for most of our battles as third-years from here on out,” I explained.

In order to first get the message across simply, I figured that touching on the fundamentals of my strategy, which Hashimoto wanted to know about, would suffice. However, he wasn’t satisfied with that, and if anything, the look of bewilderment on his face grew more intense.

“How is something like that even possible though? I mean, only one class can graduate from A, no matter how hard anyone tries. There’s no way you could have something like an alliance up until the end,” said Hashimoto.

I supposed that meant he had interpreted what I had said to have been a ridiculous statement or a joke. His reaction was within expectations, so there was no need for me to panic or strongly deny it.

“Not necessarily. While it’s true that we can’t form an alliance to get to the same goal, the fact is that we are neatly divided into two groups in the class struggle: top and bottom. It is significant that Ichinose and I aren’t aiming to win alone. As long as we can add the condition ‘as long as the four classes are in close competition on equal footing,’ it’s not difficult to maintain an alliance relationship,” I explained.

If I spoke calmly, he would surely understand that I was serious.

“Wait…hold on a minute,” said Hashimoto. “That’s still impossible, though. Even if the lower-ranked classes work together, it’s the school that decides what kinds of exams there are and what kinds of matchups take place. Which is exactly why, if the next battle is against Ichinose’s class, this whole alliance thing wouldn’t mean shit. The most we could do would be to have, like, a gentleman’s agreement that we’d try to make sure no one gets expelled from either side, as best we can. It’s not like either side can lose, so cooperation, that’s…”

If it were an alliance with a winner and a loser, then that would create a contradiction from that perspective. But that was not all that the word “alliance” meant. Before I could supplement my argument with anything else, Ichinose spoke up to explain.

“There are many times when we can’t do anything to influence the match-up, yes,” she said, nodding. “That has been proven many times over the past two years, and I think that’s only natural, on the school’s part.”

Make each class compete in a well-balanced manner and sometimes nominate or designate. That was the law of special exams that had been repeated throughout our time at this school up until this point.

“Which is why we’ve already worked out the finer details for those situations, in anticipation of that,” she continued. “In the future, in cases where it’s a one-on-one fight between Ayanokouji-kun’s class and mine, the arrangement would be ‘the class with at least one Class Point fewer will be handed the win.’ Technically, the actual agreement is a little more detailed than that, but what I’m trying to say is that if the winning class and the losing class are decided beforehand based on the conditions, there won’t be any trouble.”

Morishita abruptly let out a sigh after hearing Ichinose’s explanation, whereas Hashimoto immediately pushed back.

“Are you for real? I mean, sure, okay, an arrangement like this is easy to understand, but what I’m trying to point out here is that there’s no point in an alliance where we hand wins over to each other. I mean, really, handing over the win to whoever’s got at least one point less? And wait a second, hold on…that means that one side would end up losing a valuable opportunity to earn Class Points, basically. That’s like taking away a part of the special exams, which only happen a limited number of times in a year, and flushing it right down the drain!”

“You’re talking as though you and your class are going to be in the superior position in all of the special exams, Hashimoto-kun,” said Ichinose.

“Well, yeah, we’ve maintained our position as Class A all this time,” he replied.

“Until a little while ago, that is. Now that Sakayanagi-san has lost and voluntarily left the school, the strength of your class has been reduced by quite a bit, hasn’t it?” Ichinose pointed out.

“That’s why we brought Ayanokouji into our class,” argued Hashimoto.

“It was entering into an alliance with Ichinose’s class that supported my transfer,” I remarked.

“You’re saying that…the alliance is already established policy?” said Hashimoto.

When Ichinose and I nodded our heads almost simultaneously, Hashimoto responded with an exaggerated shake of his.

“Okay, even if it’s on the condition that there’s an alliance, first of all, there’s no guarantee anywhere that a class will just give up a win. At that rate, we’d just clash in a special exam and—”

If there were a special exam right now, Class C, which was currently slightly ahead of Ichinose’s class, would be the one accepting a loss.

“The trust that Ichinose has built up over these past two years will be the key to making this alliance work,” I declared, cutting Hashimoto off.

Hashimoto’s eyes widened and he choked down the words he was about to say. I guess that meant he didn’t want to follow a conversation that was beyond comprehension.

“I suppose that you, Hashimoto Masayoshi, who is constantly betraying others, can’t possibly imagine what that’s like, no?” said Morishita.

“Can you knock it off with the harsh commentary? Anyway, do you even understand how this works?” asked Hashimoto.

“I think that it all sounds ridiculous no matter how many times I hear it,” replied Morishita.

“There ya go, Ayanokouji. Apparently, even Morishita agrees with me,” said Hashimoto.

“I am not of the same opinion as you, though,” countered Morishita.

“Come on, just come out and say you agree with me on that part! Anyway, whatever. Sure, I can understand that Ichinose is far more credible than I am, yeah, but that ain’t the problem here. There’s always the risk that we’ll be betrayed, after all.”

“In that case, let’s talk about a hypothetical situation,” I said. “Suppose that we’re up against Ichinose’s class in the next special exam, and that we hand over the victory to Ichinose’s class, which is now Class D. Do you really think that Ichinose would then betray us afterward and break our alliance?”

Hashimoto crossed his arms and looked at Ichinose. Then, he averted his eyes slightly and let his mind go to work. There was a moment of silence, and then he eventually turned to face Ichinose, who was looking straight at him.

“Well…it’s not like I can’t trust you…” conceded Hashimoto.

“I’m glad to hear you say that, even if you’re skeptical,” said Ichinose.

Seeing Ichinose smiling warmly with happiness in her eyes, Hashimoto bashfully averted his gaze and scratched his cheek.

“Men are so simple. They truly are stupid creatures,” said Morishita.

At Morishita’s exasperated words, Hashimoto seemed poised to launch into a rebuttal, as though he had just come back to his senses. But just as quickly, he appeared to lose interest in the topic, because he began to mumble quietly to himself, holding both hands over his drink.

“B-but, that’s only because we’re still just at the very beginning of our third year right now, right? What if we fight together for a few months, and then her class attempts a coup? What then? Even if Ichinose can be trusted, her classmates might be tempted to betray us. And besides, we might end up in a similar situation ourselves. The eleventh hour isn’t exactly the time to be talking about whether someone can be trusted or not,” argued Hashimoto.

“Of course, the alliance will be dissolved when the time comes. I’m sure that you’re concerned about this, Hashimoto-kun, and you’re right, it’s not as though we can keep the alliance going for the entire year. However, there’s no benefit in us unilaterally severing it before the time comes. It’s precisely because we have our backs against the wall that I would like to maintain our cooperative relationship with Ayanokouji-kun as long as we can,” explained Ichinose.

There was more benefit in not betraying than what there was to be gained from betraying. Just like how I had evaluated Ichinose’s trustworthiness from her past, she had evaluated my ability from my present. Truly, an exquisitely balanced relationship had been formed.

“You sure hold Ayanokouji in high regard,” remarked Hashimoto.

“Yep. Just like you do, Hashimoto-kun,” answered Ichinose, looking straight at Hashimoto as she spoke without any hesitation whatsoever.

“I see… Well, I understand what you mean, Ichinose. And sure, maybe it’s true that there’s no advantage for you in betraying us. But there’s no guarantee that someone from our side won’t betray you, Ichinose, right? Or is that also factored into the agreement? For example, is this all firmly stipulated in a written contract? If that’s the case, then…” Hashimoto trailed off, looking to Ichinose for an answer.

But Ichinose smiled kindly, and said no. “There’s no written contract or anything. We just made a verbal promise to each other,” she explained.

“No matter how you look at it, that’s way too lax,” said Hashimoto.

“Well, it’s plenty good enough for me. Because just as Ayanokouji-kun trusts in me, I also trust in Ayanokouji-kun.”

Ichinose once again answered without any hesitation. She was so far outside of Hashimoto’s realm of understanding since, once again, he looked to be at his wits’ end.

“I just don’t understand it,” he huffed.

“I suppose those that treat betrayal as a given would not get it. However, I cannot understand it either,” said Morishita.

Morishita, who had been mocking Hashimoto from beginning to end up until this point, also seemed to be dissatisfied with the contract between Ichinose and me.

“Let us put aside the matter of credibility for the time being. Does this alliance really have much meaning in practice? I am not saying that it would be totally ineffective, but can you say that Class D is capable enough to contend for Class A?” asked Morishita. Her eyes were full of doubt, the tenor of her argument being that it wasn’t very realistic at all.

“Yeah, I agree with that too,” said Hashimoto. “Before even getting to the whole trust thing, how could this alliance be the key to anything? What do we get out of it? In the end, even if you call this thing an alliance or whatever, you’re just saying it’s going to be handing over wins whenever we end up having to butt heads with each other. I can’t imagine how that would be enough to help us catch up to Horikita’s and Ryuuen’s classes.”

From Hashimoto’s point of view, this was far from an opportunity to increase the number of chances to gain Class Points, but something that would decrease those chances. There was no doubt that was how he saw the alliance.

“The results of this alliance won’t just be us handing over wins to each other or simply not antagonizing each other. When we’re all completely on the same side, as allies, the amount of information that we can get in our everyday lives will double as well. This means that we’ll be more effective in many situations, and needless to say, that means when studying or taking a sports-centric exam as well,” I explained.

Two people were better than one. Three people were better than two. It was possible for people who were good at something to get together and to help support those who weren’t so good at it as well, and this also would create incentive and increase synergy. There would surely be cases where students would work together, such as the uninhabited island exams held last year and the year before, where all students participated.

“Also, our classes joining forces means that Private Points can conveniently be made available to each other as needed. And, in the unlikely scenario that a considerable sum is needed, we can be flexible then as well. It’s conceivable that it could even be helpful to us in special exams,” I added.

Of course, there were no guarantees that any of that would be necessary, as it was only a small benefit. However, simply having the option of being able to achieve what would be impossible for a single class would be a weapon in our arsenal.

“Okay, yeah, I can wrap my head around that,” said Hashimoto. “It’s better to be able to borrow points rather than not being able to, but… It’s just that, the fact that we’re forming an alliance or whatever will be immediately obvious though, won’t it? What if the top two classes join forces now that we’ve formed an alliance? That’d just obliterate all the advantages that you just mentioned.”

“That’s not a concern at this current time,” I replied. “It’s precisely because they’re the top two classes that they can’t be in a give-and-take relationship. It would be more of a disadvantage for them to allow Class Points to shift between them without any losses to each other. Besides, even putting Horikita aside, Ryuuen has no credibility whatsoever. They can’t have the kind of relationship where one side would say, ‘Let us win first,’ or ‘Lend us Private Points,’ or where they could lend a hand unconditionally. Though, that being said, I also can’t imagine Horikita compromising either, really.”

Besides, even if they could be a little flexible with each other, “a little” wouldn’t be enough for Ryuuen. More importantly, there would also be significant challenges associated with trying to win over Ryuuen, because he was someone who liked to go big and bold.

“Well…yeah, that’s true. But that’s exactly why we’ve got things called contracts . If they’ve got a written contract, that would force them to stick to the rules, just like when Ryuuen and Katsuragi joined forces,” said Hashimoto.

“Sure, something like that is possible if they produce a written contract and involve the school, but that would put us at a major advantage if it were to happen,” I replied.

“Them forming an alliance would?” asked Hashimoto.

“Yeah. Because if the upper classes join forces, they’d naturally end up putting their hands around each other’s necks and strangling each other. If they bind themselves to words in a contract like ‘we’ll mutually concede victory to the other in give-and-take,’ that would mean having to bear losses at times when they need to win. Because of the binding nature of an agreement, it couldn’t possibly be violated, either,” I explained.

“Meaning that a tightly fixed contract could sometimes be a fatal blow,” concluded Morishita quietly, muttering those words to herself as she held her cup in her hands.

“On the other hand, we have no useless binds like a written contract. We can adjust our policies based on the state of the conflict, adapting as needed—flexibly, and without betrayal. And if there’s a gap in Class Points, one side can provide kindhearted relief to the other until that gap is filled,” I continued.

Generally speaking, a contract should have been put in place. But there were a wide range of strategy options available by not having one.

“Well, this is a real surprise. So the lack of a written contract actually works to our advantage, huh? I never thought of it from that perspective… Anyway, in the end, we’re gonna break off this alliance and compete with each other, right?” asked Hashimoto.

“I believe that Ichinose already said as much herself, but yes, that’s exactly right. When we get to the point where Class C and Class D rise up and are side by side with Horikita and Ryuuen’s classes, then our cooperative relationship will naturally dissolve,” I explained.

That was, of course, with the consent of Ichinose’s side. That was exactly why Ichinose nodded in response to what I just said, as an easy way to show Hashimoto and Morishita that she agreed.

“Okay, I’m more or less convinced,” said Hashimoto. “But that brings up a new concern. Let me come right out and ask you this question here: Why’d you decide to cooperate with Ayanokouji? It’s true that Morishita and I are planning to set up Ayanokouji to take over from here on out, but most of our classmates still haven’t agreed to that. If Ayanokouji is branded as unfit to be a leader, this whole alliance won’t have any meaning, and if anything, it’ll actually drag us down. Are you able to handle that kind of risk?”

Hashimoto threw that question not at me, but at Ichinose, most likely intentionally. I concluded that Hashimoto guessed he could strip everything away and see the naked, unvarnished Ichinose with his insight, but it wasn’t going to be that easy. How far would his perception take him against someone who had clearly changed and grown?

“We’ve fallen all the way down to Class D, and we’ve got our backs against the wall. You’re aware of that, right?” said Ichinose.

“Yeah, of course,” said Hashimoto. “Which is exactly why an alliance would be an uncomplicated way to make progress. Not a full step forward at a time, but a half step. Honestly, this alliance proposal makes me feel anxious and impatient.”

“I’m going to borrow your phrasing here, but for us, it’s better to take a guaranteed half step than it is to take a gamble on a full step that we don’t know will actually pan out. We’ve been walking for two years now, but instead of moving forward, we’ve been going backward. Our situation is different from yours, Hashimoto-kun. That was why I was able to accept an alliance from the very beginning.”

Hashimoto nodded once in response to Ichinose’s positive, forward-facing attitude.

“Okay, then I’ll rephrase my question. What if Ayanokouji doesn’t become the leader after this? Or, if he does become the leader, what if the major prerequisite for our class to accept his leadership is that we don’t ally ourselves with Class D? Would you be honestly fine with pulling out of this relationship if that time comes?” What Hashimoto feared was a half-baked framework for cooperation, or that Ichinose’s class would become dependent upon us and collapse. “I hope you don’t take offense at me saying this, but honestly, I feel like this’ll be a burden. I mean, between our class and yours, Ichinose, it’s obvious which one of us would be in control. So, if you’re saying that you want to form an alliance, don’t you think we’d want something in return for being on equal footing?”

“Something in return? What kind of ‘something’ in return would you want?”

Without rejecting the idea of it entirely out of hand, Ichinose showed a willingness to first hear a proposal from Hashimoto.

“You are a shameless man, indeed. What is it you wish Ichinose Honami to do?” said Morishita.

“Don’t just go ahead and heap unjust suspicion on what I’m gonna say,” snapped Hashimoto.

“But what if she says it’s okay?” asked Morishita.

“Well…” Hashimoto paused for a long time, lost in thought. “No, I’m telling you, that’s not what I meant!” he cried.

“That pause just now said all that needs to be said,” replied Morishita.

Hashimoto waved Morishita aside after she interrupted the conversation.

“Anything. Like, paying us Private Points, or—” began Hashimoto.

“Sorry, Hashimoto, but the only alliance that I want to reap the benefits of is not one of subordination, but of an equal relationship. Carelessly establishing a hierarchical relationship would actually be more of a disadvantage,” I remarked, interrupting him.

You could also expect that in times of disagreement and strife between our classes that Class C would naturally take advantage of their higher-level position to pressure Class D to comply. That was something I wanted to avoid.

“One thing I want to reassure you about is that if Ayanokouji-kun—no, if even a single person from Class C opposes this idea, then I’m prepared to accept that,” said Ichinose.

“Oh? So, you’re saying it’s fine if we scrap this alliance proposal if there’s dissent?” said Hashimoto.

“Yes. But I don’t think we will have to worry about that.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s Ayanokouji-kun’s proposal.”

Ichinose’s eyes pierced straight through Hashimoto.

“I believe in him, and because of that, I don’t think this alliance will be called off , ” said Ichinose.

“I see,” replied Hashimoto.

I jumped into the conversation. “Sorry, but we’ll need to stop this conversation for the time being.”

“Why is that?” asked Morishita.

When I shifted my gaze in a way that made it easy for the others to understand what I was doing, Hashimoto and Morishita followed where my eyes were. There, they saw Horikita and Matsushita, my former classmates who still hadn’t fully grasped the current situation, approaching.

“Aw man, of course they’d be looking for you. I’ll handle this,” said Hashimoto.

“Whatever you do, keep the matter of this alliance a secret,” I cautioned. “It’s impossible for those two to predict the possibility that we’d be forming an alliance at this stage, so it’s not necessary to tell them.”

“I know that much. No need to give things away this early in the process, after all,” said Hashimoto.

Perhaps Hashimoto’s interpretation and my calculations did not align.

“To be honest, it doesn’t really matter even if the alliance is revealed today or tomorrow,” I replied.

“Really? Why is that?” Hashimoto asked.

“Because there isn’t much point in keeping the alliance hidden or anything like that,” I said. “In fact, it’ll be much more effective when it’s made known. However, Horikita and her classmates have already suffered quite a bit of damage because I’ve transferred classes. Which means that it’d be a waste to tell them about our alliance, since it would only cause further confusion. It’s better to let them know about the alliance after their wounds from the truth of my transfer have healed a little. That way, it’ll damage them more deeply.”

“Got it… You mean you’re not showing any mercy, huh,” said Hashimoto.

My explanation contained some lip service directed at Hashimoto, Morishita, and Ichinose. Other people, who would be happy as long as Horikita’s class got taken down, would probably feel awe and relief at the same time over this. But my goal wasn’t to bring Horikita’s class down. It needed to lead them to growth. The weight placed on their minds would be considerable if they were faced with an unexpected threat, such as an alliance, in addition to my transfer.

Of course, Horikita’s heart might be deeply affected by this, but there was no need for concern. There were the last two years, and there were the relationships that Horikita had built with her classmates. I had faith that those things would help Horikita get back on her feet.

4.4

H AVING ONLY MANAGED to extract some evasive answers from me, Horikita and Matsushita went back the way they came. Afterward, Ichinose said goodbye and left to go meet up with some friends. Hashimoto let out a sigh as she watched her go.

“Man, the reaction from those two… I’m sure the news must’ve been quite a shock to ’em,” said Hashimoto.

“Indeed. So, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, you intentionally waited to transfer until the first day of school after the opening ceremony in order to provide the maximum degree of upset to Class A, do I have that right?” asked Morishita.

“I couldn’t discard the possibility that the school would have notified them in the event that I had done it by the day before, or that information would’ve been leaked somehow, such as by a homeroom teacher. Therefore, I determined that it was best to do it when it would be as instantaneous a transfer as possible. If I had done it during a class period, the margin of error would’ve been less than one period. However, we were in the same classroom before the opening ceremony, and I even attended the opening ceremony alongside them. It was a natural start to the term, the same sort of progression with friends as before. I’m sure that Horikita and her classmates must have subconsciously felt that this was it, that it would be our last year together,” I explained.

Ideally, I would reap the benefits of those faint hopes and expectations. I had calculated that exact timing.

“You seriously plotted that much? Dude, you’re merciless. To be honest, even though I’m on the side that snatched you away, it was hard for me to look directly at them when it looked like they were about to cry. On the other hand, though, you really don’t seem to have any sympathy, Ayanokouji,” observed Hashimoto.

“It’s preposterous that I’d have any,” I said. “Nor should I have any. I came to Class C to get into a position to bring them to Class A without fail in the year I have left. It’s a perfectly natural strategy to use transfers where they will be most effective.”

If I were someone who had any lingering attachments, there was no way that the students of Class C would accept me. They couldn’t trust such a person to be a leader.

“Man, I am truly, deeply grateful that you’re my ally,” said Hashimoto.

The current gap in Class Points was significant. Even if I were to force an expulsion, that wasn’t a tool that could be used incessantly. I was at the point where even the slightest wasted effort to improve the odds wouldn’t be acceptable.

“While I can’t say that I’m not still skeptical about this alliance thing, I’m more or less on board with it,” said Hashimoto.

“I am as well. However, you have a mountain of problems, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. If it becomes known that you are trying to form alliances and selfishly move things forward in a situation where you are not yet recognized as the leader by the majority of the class, the backlash from within will be even stronger,” cautioned Morishita.

“I’ve taken that all into account. Eventually, students who have opinions about me will come forward,” I replied.

Even if they were dissatisfied, the students in the class would have no other choice but to watch quietly for the time being. The entire class had collectively poured their Private Points into recruiting me. It was what was commonly referred to as the Concorde effect, or sunk-cost fallacy. Simply put, they couldn’t easily accept the investment they paid for turning into a loss.

Therefore, while they would criticize me, I would invariably be given leeway in the hopes that the results I would provide would be commensurate with that investment. The strategy of this alliance too, which at first glance may have appeared to have been reckless, would also be something that, from a position of compromise, they’d have no choice but to first simply watch unfold. A splendid example of the effect in action would be Hashimoto, who had allocated more Private Points to me than anyone else.

“So the first thing you need to do is be accepted by the class—and quickly,” said Morishita.

“You’d have a lock on that real quick if you’d clinch a special exam for us or somethin’,” suggested Hashimoto.

Morishita pulled out her chair and stood up, casually glancing over at Hashimoto.

“How do you mean?” asked Morishita.

“What do you mean, how do I mean?” asked Hashimoto.

“Could you entrust an unknown student to handle our plan of action for a special exam unconditionally?” asked Morishita.

“Well, I—” began Hashimoto.

“I think that if you hadn’t taken part in bringing over Ayanokouji Kiyotaka in this instance, you would have been at the top of the list of those opposing it. If I am wrong, provide a flawless rebuttal in one word,” said Morishita.

“It’s impossible to do that in one word though…” sighed Hashimoto.

“Heh,” chuckled Morishita.

Morishita, upon seeing no flawless rebuttal coming from Hashimoto, walked away from the table.

“Dealing with her is exhausting,” huffed Hashimoto.

“Was Morishita like that before she and I started talking?” I asked.

“Yeah, she’s never changed. Though, she definitely wasn’t the sort of person who ever actively got involved with anyone, that’s for sure. So, in that sense, it must mean you’re someone incredibly special to her,” said Hashimoto.

I wondered if I should have been honestly happy about that, but I had slightly mixed feelings.

4.5

A S I WALKED BACK with Hashimoto to the lobby of the dormitory, a student stood up upon seeing us. Hashimoto, sensing that this student was going to try to talk to me, was about to step between us on my behalf. But I stopped him, letting him know that it wasn’t necessary.

“You go on ahead,” I told him.

“Okay. If you got a buttload of stuff to talk about, then take your time,” said Hashimoto.

Hashimoto knew very well that this wasn’t a person who posed any particular threat, so he went on ahead and pressed the elevator button with a faint smile. The student waited for Hashimoto to get into the elevator before calmly opening his mouth to speak.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I think I’d like to take this somewhere else. It feels like we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we talk here,” said Yousuke.

“As long as it’s okay with you, Yousuke, I’m fine with that. You want to go to my room?” I asked.

“I think it’d be better to do this outside, actually,” he replied.

Granting his request, Yousuke and I left the lobby and were about to move away from the dormitory. However, it seemed that things wouldn’t work out so conveniently, because we ended up bumping into some students from Horikita’s class as they were coming back. It was the evening hours when everyone was heading back to their dorm rooms after all, so it was inevitable that something like this would happen.

“Hirata and…Ayanokouji,” muttered Sudou, somewhat bewildered.

Next to him was Ike, along with two who could be described as students who didn’t usually associate with this group, Keisei and Akito.

“I just met up with Suzune a minute ago and talked to her a bit… I hear that you actually transferred to Class C on your own, not ’cause of some kind of strategy?” asked Sudou.

It was unclear if Horikita hadn’t returned to the dormitory yet or if she had already gone back to her room.

“Yeah. Sorry,” I replied.

“Why though?” asked Sudou, looking heartbroken.

Just as Sudou was about to draw closer to me, Yousuke stepped between us.

“Sudou-kun. I think that we’ll attract a lot of attention if we continue this conversation here,” said Yousuke.

“Yeah…you’re right. Sorry,” Sudou replied.

“If there are things you want to discuss, I’m open to listening. For the time being though, how about a slight change of scenery?” I asked.

I responded in such a way to go along with Yousuke’s suggestion, and we all went around to the back of the dormitory. Sudou didn’t tag along alone, but the other three students all followed behind us without hesitation. As soon as we were in a spot that was out of view from the entrance of the dormitory, Sudou, perhaps unable to hold back any longer, immediately kickstarted the conversation once more.

“Why, Ayanokouji? Why’d you transfer classes? We finally got up to Class A, so there was no need for you to drop down to Class C, right?” said Sudou.

“Hah hah, maybe Karuizawa was the reason after all, huh?” said Ike.

I figured that Ike hadn’t meant to poke fun at me, but those words ended up involuntarily spilling out of his mouth.

“Hey, Ike!” snapped Akito.

“I mean, come on! I can’t think of any other reason! It’s embarrassing to get dumped,” said Ike.

“That’s true. That might have been one of the reasons,” I replied.

“See! Wait, did I seriously get it right?!” exclaimed Ike. He clapped his hands happily and said, “Dude, I was right!” and then got whacked on the back by an angry Sudou.

“Ayanokouji’s obviously lyin’, dude. C’mon,” snapped Sudou.

“Owww! If you say he’s lying but the man himself admits it, then I’m not so sure about that…” huffed Ike.

Ike furrowed his brow and glared at Sudou while running his hand over his back in an attempt to soothe the pain shooting through it.

“What’s the actual reason?” asked Akito in a tone that sounded like he was holding back his anger slightly.

It would’ve been easy for me to answer, but there was a mountain of circumstances that made doing so impossible.

“The reason, huh? I don’t see any point in answering that question,” I replied.

“There is a point! How do you think we’re feeling right now? I was just with Haruka up until a little while ago. She’s been really depressed this whole time. She keeps saying, ‘This might be all my fault,’ over and over and over again. She was wondering if her trying to reconcile with you for her own peace of mind ended up being a burden on you, Kiyotaka,” said Akito.

Now that he mentioned it, I did have the opportunity to speak with Hasebe before the End-of-Year Special Exam, didn’t I? It certainly wasn’t surprising that the others were wondering if the impact of their comments made at that time had any connection with my transfer.

“She’s been agonizing over this stuff for a long time now, even before what happened today. She said that she needed to properly express her gratitude for your help, Kiyotaka,” added Akito.

Keisei nodded in response to Akito’s appeal.

“I was saved by Ayanokouji-kun before myself. If he hadn’t helped me, I surely wouldn’t be at this school anymore,” said Yousuke.

It seemed like Yousuke had similar thoughts. Yousuke, who greatly feared others being hurt, had been heartbroken over the expulsion of three students from his class thus far. It was likely undeniable that he would’ve fallen apart without my support.

“That was why I respected your strength and relied on you as a classmate,” Yosuke continued. “But as we fought together during the Unanimous Special Exam and the End-of-Year Special Exam, there was a part of me that just couldn’t understand—no, couldn’t trust things the way they were. I won’t deny that I wish I had more strength myself, of course. But there were also more than a few times when I had suspicions about you.”

The end of spring vacation. He had hinted at that line of thinking before, even during the victory celebration that Horikita had planned. I was a little curious about the fact that he explicitly hadn’t been calling me by my first name since then, but considering the fact that he had kept doing so to this day, he might have been unconsciously wanting to put some distance between us. Just like how I had intentionally switched from calling a certain someone by their given name to their family name due to a change in our relationship.

“It’s just Sudou-kun and the rest of us here. Everyone in class is very worried and confused,” said Yousuke.

Everyone here wanted to know the reason. They wanted me to come out and make some kind of confession, like how I had transferred due to unavoidable circumstances.

“Worried and confused, huh? Well, that makes sense. I transferred classes without saying anything so that would happen,” I replied.

“What do you mean…?” asked Keisei.

Keisei, perhaps because his brain had momentarily refused to comprehend, asked me to elaborate on what I just said, adjusting the frame of his glasses.

“You can take what I said as is. I didn’t say anything so that I could make the class suffer. And the reason for that, if you wish to know, is simple: Class C was in trouble because Sakayanagi is gone, so I chose to help them by transferring into their class on the condition I be given Private Points in return,” I replied.

I conveyed and emphasized that this transfer was done only for my own sake.

A contrivance.

And a selfish one at that.

Even if what I said was peppered with lies, on the surface, it was an undeniable fact.

“Wh-wha… Are you being serious right now…?” asked Sudou.

Only Sudou said it, but Akito and Keisei were probably thinking the same thing, as they seemed similarly flummoxed by my cold explanation. Yousuke alone, however, seemed to be hardly perturbed at all.

“Ever since this morning, I’ve been asking myself, ‘Why’d things turn out like this?’ Y’know?” said Ike.

In the midst of this prickly vibe, Ike cocked his head to the side and brought his hands together at the back of his head.

“Sure, I get that their class is in a pickle with Sakayanagi gone,” Ike said. “But why is Ayanokouji the one they scrape together twenty million points for and bring over? I don’t get it at all . You’d normally think that if they were trying to weaken Class A, there’d be other students out there who they’d want more, right?”

That was a natural question to have, in a certain sense. With the exception of Yousuke and Sudou, the other people here likely couldn’t understand why I was the one who had been brought over to the other class in this current situation.

“I had thought so at first as well, which was exactly why I was curious, because I thought there had to be something behind this transfer. Do you really not feel like telling us the truth?” asked Keisei.

Keisei, while affirming what Ike suggested, wanted to know what was hidden behind it.

“Everything I said is true,” I replied. “Though it’ll be difficult to prove at this stage whether or not I’m worth the large sum that Class C paid to scout me. But I think that’s only a matter of time.”

“Wait, wait, hold on. No matter how ya look at it, it’s—” began Ike.

Just when Ike was about to question me on that, Sudou rushed up to Ike and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“This is a huge problem, Kanji,” said Sudou.

“Wh-what is…?” sputtered Ike.

“Ayanokouji’s transfer. You don’t get it…”

“So you’re saying you get it, Ken?”

“Ayanokouji’s—well, no, it ain’t like I know everything either, I guess…”

“What the heck’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means Ayanokouji’s real important to the class!” angrily snapped Sudou, his voice raised.

Yousuke approached him and asked him to calm down. He then quietly turned toward me.

“One thing I wanted to confirm today was what your intentions were in leaving our class. Because if it was something you did for the class’s sake, then I didn’t want anyone, me included, to get the wrong idea,” Yousuke said calmly.

“In that case, you can rest assured. This transfer was purely 100 percent for my own sake and that alone,” I replied.

“Indeed…it seems that way,” replied Hirata. Given our current positions, I could no longer simply call him Yousuke.

Yes, it seems so on the surface, but things may be different deep down . Right now, Hirata didn’t seem to have that kind of read on the situation. This was a man who was more sensitive than others when it came to discord in class. I figured that he wouldn’t be greatly upset when he found out that I had transferred, since I was a presence that carried both benefits and drawbacks. If that presence were to disappear, it could lead to stable class management.

“Hold on, ‘it seems that way’? That’s not good enough, Hirata. At this rate, Ayanokouji’s really gonna transfer!” shouted Sudou.

“Good or bad, this was Ayanokouji-kun’s choice,” said Hirata. “Besides, since the school has confirmed the transfer and this wasn’t a mistake, it would take the same number of Private Points to call him back to our class. That’s not an amount that we could prepare right away.”

“If Ayanokouji regrets leavin’, I’ll give him all the points I have on me. C’mon, you guys!” shouted Sudou.

Sudou tried to come to a mutual understanding with all of the boys present. But, well, you didn’t even need to ask about Ike’s reaction, and Akito and Keisei weren’t going to immediately nod their heads in response. They probably didn’t think that they could even bring me back to their class, as I was acting coldly toward them. Since I had called attention to the fact that I had left willingly, they probably didn’t even feel like bringing me back either.

“Kiyotaka left the class of his own volition. We gotta respect that,” said Akito.

“But…!” protested Sudou.

Hirata turned from Sudou, who was about to hound me, to face me directly.

“I was wondering if you had some kind of message that needed to be passed on to everyone,” asked Hirata.

“Nope,” I replied.

“All right… Fine, then. I’m sorry to have taken up your time,” said Hirata.

Hirata obediently accepted everything I said and walked away. He probably wasn’t calm deep inside, but the situation wasn’t going to change for the better if he scraped and struggled at this point. Rather, he needed to focus on how to conduct himself in such a way that wouldn’t cause issues for his classmates.

“Suzune was countin’ on you. How can you truly hold your head high from tomorrow onward?” asked Sudou.

“Knock it off, Ken. We ought to head back too. We know that Ayanokouji chose to leave us,” said Ike.

Sudou bit his lower lip in frustration and headed back, with Ike pushing his back to urge him forward.

“Even though you left the class, we’re still friends. So, if you ever have any problems, you can come talk to me, any time,” said Akito.

With that, Akito headed back to the dormitory together with Keisei. I watched my former classmates leave and decided to make my return to the dormitory a little later.