Chapter 5: A Means of Escape

Chapter 5: A Means of Escape

Chapter 5:

A Means of Escape

A FTER HOMEROOM BEGAN at 6 p.m., Chabashira-sensei left the classroom. Hirata, glancing sideways at the perplexed students, stood and went up to the podium. No more time for games. We were about to have a serious discussion.

“During homeroom today, I’d like to discuss our strategy for the short quiz tomorrow. I’ve received Chabashira-sensei’s permission. First, Horikita-san, would you please come up?”

As if she’d been waiting for him to say the word, Horikita stood and went to Hirata. Some students probably felt it was weird to see the two in solidarity. Hirata had always welcomed a partnership with Horikita, but until now, she never took him up on the offer. Horikita had always fought alone.

However, as a result of the crushing defeat she had suffered during the sports festival, she understood the limits of fighting alone, and it was like she had been reborn. That didn’t mean she had become a perfect being, of course.

The Swiss biologist A. Portmann said it best. He said that human beings are born physiologically premature. He argued that, from a zoological point of view, humans are born about a year early in comparison to other mammals’ developmental states. When a human baby is born, its sensory organs are developed, but its motor skills are not. On the other hand, many large animals, like deer, are capable of moving on their own soon after birth.

Horikita might have been reborn, but she was still underdeveloped. However, she contained limitless possibilities. Perhaps she still felt conflicted, deep down. She was probably struggling. The best course of action would be for her to change and accept it.

I thought Horikita would immediately start discussing the final exam, but she didn’t. “First, there’s something I’d like to say. Please allow me to apologize.”

Something appeared to have festered inside her heart for several weeks now. “My performance during the sports festival was disappointing. Though I act tough in front of you all, in the end, I didn’t do anything for Class D. For that, I apologize.”

Horikita bowed her head deeply. Naturally, this display shook many students. It was as if she was taking the entire blame for Class D’s defeat. Onodera, who had become a little distant with Horikita after the three-legged race, spoke up in response.

“B-but it’s not like it’s only your fault we lost, Horikita-san. Please, don’t bow to us. You don’t have to,” she said.

“That’s right, Suzune. I mean, Haruki and the Professor weren’t really much help either.” Sudou’s words were sad but true. Yamauchi and Sotomura shot vexed glares at him.

“Regardless of whether you win or lose, a humble attitude makes it easier to move on. But that’s not what I’m talking about here. I contributed almost nothing to any area of the festival,” said Horikita.

She looked over at Sudou for an instant. By giving him that look, she implied that the one thing she’d gained was becoming Sudou’s ally. Sudou couldn’t have missed that message. While he scratched his cheek in embarrassment, he smiled quietly.

“But now, I’m finished apologizing. Next, I’d like to use my energy to take on the upcoming short quiz. Unless we all come together as a class, we won’t get through this challenge.”

“I can understand that, but do you have a plan? Like, we don’t even know how they choose the pairs yet.”

“Actually, the partner selection process has already been made clear. If we handle things right, each student could feasibly end up with their ideal partner. Hirata-kun, if you would.”

Hirata, now playing the role of Horikita’s support, wrote out the rules on the blackboard.

Deciding How Pairs Are Formed:

After the school looks at the class as a whole, it will pair the highest-scoring and lowest-scoring students.

This process will continue with the second-highest and second-lowest-scoring students pairing up, and then the third-highest and lowest, and so on.

For example, the student with one hundred points will pair with the student with zero points. The student with ninety-nine points will pair with the student with one point.

“So, there’s the method—and the meaning behind our short test. Simple, right?” Horikita said.

“Wh-whoa! You cracked the code, Horikita! Awesome!”

“It’s fairly obvious. However, remember this: though students who earn lower grades will almost automatically partner with students with higher grades, there are always exceptions. I’m going to explain a strategy that we can use to end up with reliable, appropriate pairs,” said Horikita.

She’d called it obvious, but that wasn’t the case. The hints were easier to dissect for this than other trials we’d faced in the past, but she had probably only noticed as a result of her prior failures. She walked to Hirata and faced the classroom. Her face betrayed no hint of fluster; she had only the drive to keep facing forward.

“I’d like to have the students who worry about their grades partner up with high scorers to help them out. However, looking at our grades so far, the truth of the matter is that we can’t cover everyone,” said Horikita.

Eleven students had an average score of eighty points or higher. Only six students had an average of ninety points or more. It didn’t exactly make one feel at ease; less than half the class had excelled. Meanwhile, the number of students with an average of sixty points or below made up more than half the class. In other words, it would be impossible to pair every low-scoring student with a high-scoring counterpart.

Instead, therefore, Horikita aimed to create stability by forcing the top ten and bottom ten students into specific partnerships. Hirata listed the lowest-scoring students’ names on the blackboard, one by one.

“Um, I don’t really get it. What are we supposed to do?” asked Yamauchi, who knew that his name would have been written on the board.

“It’s okay for the ten lowest-scoring students, whose names are written here, to simply score zero points on this test. You could merely write your name. Since your final grades won’t reflect your scores, that’ll do you no harm. Conversely, the ten highest-scoring students should definitely try to score eighty-five points or above. Similarly, we’ll divide the remaining twenty students in the class into two groups of ten. The higher-scoring of those two groups should aim to score a maximum of eighty points, while the lower-scoring group only needs to score one point. By doing things this way, we automatically achieve a good balance in our pairings,” said Horikita. “I will properly confirm the details with you later, because it’s entirely possible that we’ll run into some kind of hiccup.”

The important thing was to ensure that the students who scored zero points and those who scored one point weren’t paired. We needed to ensure that the school partnered the students with the most significant differences in academic ability.

“I think this is a great plan. We’ll definitely need a countermeasure for this test.” Hirata didn’t dissent. He wanted to create a harmonious atmosphere.

Kouenji usually refused to participate in anything, but he didn’t appear to either support or reject the plan. Actually, it was more like he didn’t seem interested whatsoever. His social skills were even worse than Horikita’s, but for once, it didn’t matter that he was up to his usual tricks. Kouenji never took exams too seriously, but he had avoided the kind of results that would get him kicked out of school so far. However, this time, it was possible that you could still fail the final exam even if you got a perfect score, depending on how well your partner did.

That said, if we got Kouenji into a preselected pairing, he’d probably be fine. In other words, while he might not be interested, he basically seemed willing to cooperate. Actually, we didn’t know how Kouenji would react, in some ways. He might be unpredictable.

“Do you have any objections, Kouenji-kun?”

“No. What a nonsensical question. Naturally, I fully grasp the situation.” He rested his long legs across his desk and started combing his hair, like always.

“Then would it be appropriate for me to expect you to score eighty points or higher?”

“Well, I’m not too sure about that. Wouldn’t that depend on the test’s contents?”

“If you intentionally scored a zero, and got matched with one of the higher-scoring students, you’d destroy the balance we’re trying to achieve. Do you understand that?”

The only thing to fear from this test was someone getting an irregular score. If an academically gifted student like Kouenji deliberately held back, he could throw off the class’s balance. We needed to avoid having highly gifted students like Horikita and Kouenji paired together.

“I will consider the matter carefully, girl .”

Even though Kouenji’s response was suspicious, Horikita couldn’t pursue the matter any further. There was no way for us to manipulate the scores on the final exam.

5.1

T HE DAY OF THE SHORT QUIZ arrived, and though I expected us to start immediately, Chabashira-sensei had something to discuss first.

“We will begin shortly, but I’d like to say something. You nominated Class C as the class you wanted to attack for this test. Since there was no conflict with any other class, your nomination was approved,” said Chabashira-sensei.

“Did Classes A and B both nominate Class D, then?” It seemed we’d managed to overcome our first obstacle, and Horikita was relieved. “In any case, the fact that we’ll be able to challenge Class C, with their chronically poor performers, is a huge bonus for us.”

“Class C will attack Class D. They also had no competing nominations that conflicted with that decision.”

So, the battle was going to be Class D versus Class C, and Class B versus Class A.

“That’s an ideal match-up,” said Horikita.

“Seems that way.”

In summation, the higher classes had chosen to attack their direct rivals. Each class was fighting to either lengthen the gap between themselves and others, or to shrink it.

Sakayanagi had likely chosen Class A’s nomination. Katsuragi probably would’ve nominated Class D, as that would give Class A the highest chance of winning. You could sense that Katsuragi’s influence was on the decline.

Class C was our challenger, just as Horikita had hoped it would be.

“At any rate, you look like you’re doing quite well, Ike. Yamauchi, you usually have dark circles under your eyes right before you take a test. Did you happen to come up with some secret strategy?”

“Heh heh heh. Watch and learn, sensei.” Ike was completely self-confident, as expected. He hadn’t needed to study at all.

What he should have been afraid of was getting a middle-of-the-road score. The test questions were almost implausibly low difficulty, but he could just write down his name and turn in a blank sheet of paper. If he seriously tried to take this unique exam, it would only increase the risks we’d face.

Chabashira-sensei had to see what was happening. “Don’t do something you’ll regret later. It would be better if you took this quiz seriously.”

“Wh-what do you mean? This isn’t going to have an effect on my grades, right?”

“Right. Your final grade won’t reflect your score on this at all.”

“In that case, I don’t need a good score,” said Ike.

“Sure. If things go the way you expect them to go, that is.”

What Chabashira-sensei said stirred our class’s anxiety. “Should we try to get good scores after all?” muttered Sudou, letting his feelings slip.

“Don’t get flustered. There are no problems with our plan,” said Horikita.

Her calm, collected response managed to settle the students. Sudou regained his composure instantly. “Yeah. All I have to do is believe in Suzune.”

Chabashira-sensei scanned the class to confirm that everyone had returned to normal, then produced the quiz papers. “Well then, let’s begin. I needn’t remind you that no form of cheating is allowed. If someone gets caught cheating, then there will be no mercy.”

The teacher handed stacks of paper to the students in the front row and had them pass the tests back. Because we had to keep the paper facedown until the test started, I immediately flipped mine upside down when I received it.

“Aren’t you worried that you’re wrong about how the pairs are selected?” asked Chabashira-sensei.

“Not at all. I’m confident that I’m right,” said Horikita.

She was unfazed by what Chabashira-sensei said. Ike and the others could stand tall because of their leader’s confidence.

Class D was changing. They were slight changes, but I figured that our homeroom teacher had taken notice. After all, she was watching over us day in and day out.

“Begin.” Chabashira-sensei gave the signal, and the test started.

I slowly turned the papers over. “Oh…”

I couldn’t help but make a noise. I probably wasn’t the only one who was surprised. Though we’d expected that the difficulty level would be rather low, it really was extremely easy. Even small children could have completed this test. Of course, there were a few difficult questions in there, but even someone like Ike could easily score around sixty or higher if he didn’t panic.

It was a very tempting trap. If we’d gone rushing into this test thoughtlessly, it could have been a disaster. However, that was exactly why Horikita came up with her strategy.

5.2

T HE SHORT QUIZ ended without incident. The results were announced the very next day. Class D had previously sat all its exams while lacking any kind of cohesion, but we were so united this time that it felt almost too good to be true.

Putting aside the pairing system, having to create test questions, and the competition that was to come, the simplicity of these rules was a real godsend. It was simple now: take the test, achieve the necessary grade. We’d been doing the same thing over and over during the nine or so years we’d been in school anyway.

“The best part is that it looks like I didn’t need to get involved,” I muttered. I really was grateful for that.

“Well, I will now announce the pairings for the final exam,” said Chabashira-sensei.

The short quiz’s results were as follows: Horikita Suzune and Sudou Ken, Hirata Yousuke and Yamauchi Haruki, Kushida Kikyou and Ike Kanji, Yukimura Teruhiko and Inogashira Kokoro.

The pairs were almost perfectly in line with what we’d predicted. My partner was…Satou Maya.

“God really does have a bad sense of humor.”

How had it ended up like this? I couldn’t help but wonder. Satou noticed that she was paired with me, and looked in my direction with a smile. I raised my hand to let her know I’d noticed, too.

“It looks like Kouenji-kun acted just as we hoped he would this time.”

Kouenji was partners with Okiya. It seemed he’d gotten a sufficiently high score. Well, he’d scored highly on every test thus far, so it was more like business as usual. Kouenji crossed his arms, grinned, and let out a laugh.

“The results indicate that some among you understood this short quiz’s purpose,” said Chabashira-sensei, sounding quite impressed as she glanced over the list of partners. “Students were to be paired based on the difference in points, with the highest scorer partnered with the lowest, and so on. If students had the same scores, the pairings would have been determined at random. It’s probably not necessary for me to explain the system, but I thought I would anyway.”

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but knowing that we’d been right on the money was a relief. “There don’t appear to be any blatant problems with the pairings,” I said to Horikita.

“Yeah. Everything’s been going so smoothly it’s almost scary. But the real challenge starts now. How will we come up with our exam questions, and how will we overcome the final? You’re paired up with Satou-san. You should be fine.”

I hadn’t intentionally chosen Satou or anything like that, but those of us with middling scores had muddied the strategy a little. That was just statistics at work, and in a way, it was kind of convenient. Still, I wasn’t entirely safe—she might fail the exam. I needed to keep my scores high from this point onward.

“I’ll hold study groups until the final exam to raise our class’s average scores,” Horikita said. “If Hirata-kun and Kushida-san agree, I’d like to hold two study sessions per day. There will be a two-hour session beginning at 4 p.m., right after classes end, until 6 p.m. The other two-hour session will be held from 8 p.m. to 10 p.m. We’ll each lead a session in turn. I’ll be counting on you, Hirata-kun,” said Horikita.

“Because of my club activities, I’ll take the second study group. Let’s all work together and do our best,” Hirata replied.

Things were certainly moving forward. More people could tutor the study group now, so we were able to utilize this kind of strategy.

Horikita and Hirata discussed the study sessions’ format until they nailed down the finer details. Horikita would handle the first session, while Hirata volunteered to take the second. That way, they could support the entire study group and provide guidance to the more anxious students at the same time. Kushida would attend both sessions and adopt a unique role, tutoring the students who were worried about whether they could reach fifty points.

There were quite a few girls who scored around this middle range, including Onodera and Ichihashi. That being said, this plan wasn’t free of problems. Compared to the first-semester study group, significantly more students wanted a tutor, and only three could handle being tutors. Naturally, the more students there were per teacher, the lower the quality of instruction would be. When lunch came, Horikita met with Hirata and Sudou.

“Dang it! Suzune’s not leading the second group? There goes my motivation, man.” Sudou couldn’t attend the first session due to his club activities, and was clearly unhappy to miss Horikita. Then again, the old Sudou probably would’ve lashed out by now.

“No matter who’s teaching, it’ll bother me if you don’t try. Okay?” said Horikita.

“Okay. We’re a team, after all,” he replied. Horikita had excellent control over the untamed stallion that was Sudou. Bravo.

“Your efforts reflect on me,” she added. “I’d appreciate it if you understand that. Besides, I’ll try to make appearances at the evening sessions as often as I can.”

Horikita laid out the finishing touches to her request, raising Sudou’s motivation sky-high.

“Yeah! All right, I’m ready for this! I’m countin’ on you, Hirata.”

“Likewise. Let’s do our best together, Sudou-kun.”

Now that he was partnered up with Horikita, he was really fired up. Just then, however, an interloper came onto the scene.

“Excuse me, may I talk to you?” Miyake Akito asked, approaching Horikita. I hadn’t ever really spoken to him before. He looked apologetic.

“What’s the matter, Miyake-kun?” asked Horikita.

Miyake was with Hasebe, a beautiful girl who was a frequent topic of discussion amongst the boys. These two normally kept quiet and rarely interacted with anyone. It was unexpected for them to approach Horikita.

“Wait, you two are paired together for the final exam, right?” asked Hirata, creating an opening for conversation.

“Well, yes. We’re partners, but we’re equally good and bad at all the same subjects. We’re a little nervous about how we’ll perform in the final, so we wanted to ask for your advice.”

Miyake handed Hirata their completed answer sheets for both the short test and the midterm. Their scores on the short test stood in stark contrast, with Miyake getting seventy-nine points and Hasebe getting one point, as intended. This was the product of Horikita’s plan to pair the high and low scorers together. However, their midterm scores were sixty-five and sixty-three, respectively. There was almost no difference in academic ability between them. They were both exceptionally average, but they’d still been split between the upper and lower groups.

At first glance, it looked as though they could probably score high enough to pass the final, but there was a problem. Miyake and Hasebe got the exact same kinds of questions wrong. They were equally bad at all the same subjects. To pass, they needed a score of at least sixty points for every subject. This would be a perilous bridge to cross.

“I see,” said Hirata. “This is a little unexpected. Let’s make sure to check the other pairs later.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Hirata, really,” replied Miyake. “I’m always causing trouble for you, between the cruise ship and the sports festival.”

That made me think back to the sports festival. I could only vaguely recall the situation at this point, but Miyake withdrew from the final relay because he hurt his leg. It looked like he moved without any problems now, so his injury must have completely healed.

“Please, don’t apologize,” said Hirata. “If I had trouble, I’m sure you’d do the same for me.”

The answers that Miyake and Hasebe got right and wrong on their sheets were extraordinarily similar. In fact, they were so similar you might think the same person took both tests. Even if it was possible for someone to adjust their scores, not every matchup would be perfect. Having an irregular pair like this was unavoidable.

“This is really unfortunate,” added Miyake. “I don’t want to complicate your plans or mess up the study groups.”

You could tell that the two were by no means unintelligent. They were different from Sudou and the rest, who struggled with studying. The problem was that these two were too similar. Because of that, group tutoring was going to be insufficient. One-on-one tutoring was necessary.

“Kushida-san, could I ask you to take on additional students? These two should have a pretty strong foundation that won’t bring down the group’s overall cohesion,” said Horikita.

“Sure,” replied Kushida. “If you’re all right with that, Miyake-kun and Hasebe-san, I’ll do it.”

Miyake didn’t appear to accept or reject Kushida’s offer, but Hasebe spoke up. “I’m going to pass, I think. I don’t get along too well with Ichihashi-san and the others.” Fortunately, Ichihashi and the other girls weren’t in the classroom and didn’t hear that remark. “Besides, I’m not really good at studying in a group with a lot of people.”

It seemed Miyake was the one who had wanted to come to Hirata for help, while Hasebe hadn’t been too keen on it. I’d thought it would be the other way around.

“But the two of you have trouble with the same subjects. If you take the final exam as is, even if you clear the overall score requirement, you might score under sixty points somewhere,” Horikita said.

“Yeah, I know,” replied Hasebe. She averted her eyes from Horikita and started walking away.

“Where are you going?”

“Miyacchi, I’m sorry to have wasted your time, but I guess this just isn’t the right fit for me,” said Hasebe. With that, she left the classroom.

“Sorry, Horikita,” Miyake muttered.

“I don’t mind. Well, even if it’s just you, would you mind studying with Kushida-san?” asked Horikita. If Miyake improved his weakest subjects, he could effectively cover for Hasebe, too.

“I’ll pass. I don’t really feel like I could study with a group of just girls. I’ll try and do it on my own,” he replied. He got up, grabbed his bag, and left.

Horikita couldn’t force anyone to study. If a student didn’t participate of their own free will, it would be nearly impossible to get any results. It would probably lower the serious students’ morale to boot.

“What now?” asked Hirata. “I think we should follow up with those two.”

“Yeah. If only we had another tutor,” said Horikita.

She glanced at me, so with my own eyes, I sent her a message saying “absolutely not.” Putting aside whether I could even do the tutoring, I wasn’t sure I could communicate with Miyake and Hasebe. Well, at least they would disregard my existence after this point.

“I’ll see if I can make time,” Horikita muttered. After giving it some thought, she’d concluded that she just had to take it upon herself.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ll overwork yourself. If you do that, you won’t be an effective tutor. Besides, Horikita-san, you also have to create Class C’s test problems,” said Hirata.

“But what other choice do I have?”

She’d responded bluntly under the assumption that there was no one else for the job. While Hirata could advise her not to, he couldn’t force her. Evidently, Horikita would take on Miyake and Hasebe, and that would be that.

“In that case, I’ll take care of tutoring them,” said Yukimura, inserting himself casually into our conversation.

“We’d be glad to have you aboard, Yukimura-kun. You’re diligent and academically gifted. But are you all right with this? I thought you didn’t really like this kind of thing?”

“If I don’t help out where I can, we won’t be able to pass the test,” Yukimura said. “Same goes for you, Horikita. You can’t do everything yourself.”

Yukimura might’ve chosen to intervene because he’d seen Horikita change since the sports festival.

“There’s just one problem. I can teach Miyake and Hasebe how to study, but I’m not friendly with them. After seeing what happened here earlier, I get the feeling that talking to them will be tricky. I was hoping you could do the work of convincing them to study with me.”

So, he had a condition. Well, it was a small price to pay, under the circumstances. Horikita was overjoyed. Yukimura was like the cavalry in a movie—the sort who arrives in the nick of time, charging over the hill to save the cornered protagonists.

“Got it. I’ll think of something,” Horikita promised. Yukimura left the classroom, and she turned to me. “Is it okay to be optimistic for now?”

“Not necessarily. Think about it: you don’t know how to talk to those two, either,” I told her.

“Hirata-kun, do you think Miyake and Hasebe will listen to Yukimura-kun?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. All three of them are loners,” said Hirata. “It’ll all come down to whether they can see eye to eye with Yukimura. It might make them a little anxious.”

Horikita turned to me after a moment of thought. “Hey, Ayanokouji-kun. Would you manage Yukimura-kun and the others?”

“Manage?”

“You were Yukimura-kun’s roommate on the cruise ship, so I thought you might have broken the ice with him. Miyake-kun and Hasebe-san could be difficult, but with you as the middleman, I think it’ll be easier for us to communicate with them,” said Horikita.

Well, it was probably as good a plan as we had. No one else here would be able to act as the go-between for Horikita. Still, why me? I’d been happy not getting involved for once.

“You don’t seem pleased with this. Are you unwilling to cooperate with me? All you need to do is help corral them into studying with Yukimura. I didn’t say I wanted you to teach them.” Although that was true, just managing Miyake and Hasebe likely wouldn’t be an easy task. “Can I count on you?” Horikita asked.

Her request was morphing into a threat. All I could do was nod. If I accepted, she could save face, and the plan was pretty low risk. I just didn’t want to have to do anything truly exhausting, like tutoring or preparing test questions.

“I’ll do what I can.” I sighed, but made sure that Horikita didn’t notice.

5.3

I STARTED PREPARING immediately. I spoke to Hirata and Yukimura, then got in touch with Miyake. We talked about holding a study session later. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be so easy.

As soon as class ended, Hasebe vanished from the room. “Huh? Where’s Hasebe?”

“Did she run away?” muttered Yukimura.

“Hasebe isn’t like that,” said Miyake. “Maybe she just went on ahead of us?”

“Why would she need to?”

“A bunch of different reasons.” Miyake seemed to understand Hasebe quite well, and wasn’t especially worried.

We decided to head toward Pallet, our designated study hangout. En route to the café, we saw Hasebe in the hallway.

“Why did you rush out?” pressed Yukimura.

“What? Maybe I just don’t like standing around. Hanging out in a group is a little awkward,” she replied vaguely.

Yukimura seemed to take this as a personal attack, as if she found our company embarrassing. “So, you hate being seen talking to us?” he asked.

“That’s not it at all. There are a lot of reasons.”

“Don’t sweat it, Yukimura. Hasebe’s just like this,” said Miyake.

“Well, all the seats at Pallet will probably be taken while we stand around talking. Let’s keep moving,” I suggested. I understood how Yukimura felt, but we needed to stay on target. Classes were over for the day, so students were starting to trickle into Pallet one after another.

“Yeah, you’re right… It’d be a hassle if we had nowhere to sit. Let’s go,” replied Yukimura, regaining his composure and taking the lead.

“You should be a little more careful about what you say,” Miyake told Hasebe.

“Was it that annoying? I’ll think about it, I guess,” she replied. Evidently, she hadn’t been intentionally rude.

We managed to secure four seats at Pallet. Yukimura sat next to me, while Hasebe sat across from us. Miyake was beside Hasebe. It was a really odd combination, and the four of us clearly felt incredibly uncomfortable and out of place. I hardly understood how this group had come to be in the first place. Still, we had to get down to business.

“Um, I guess I’m counting on you, or whatever,” said Hasebe.

“Well, if you have any questions, feel free to ask,” I told everyone.

Hasebe, the only girl in the group, raised her hand right away. “So, you can talk, Ayanokouji-kun?”

“Is that really the question you’re going to ask?”

Hasebe looked as if her interest was piqued. Apparently, the fact that I was speaking to them was quite mysterious. “I guess I don’t have any impression of you at all. Do people even notice when you’re not there?” she continued.

Well…I mean, I didn’t talk to Hasebe on a regular basis, or at all. So, maybe it was understandable that she had that kind of impression.

Miyake brought up the sports festival. “But Ayanokouji was awesome in the relay. Everyone’s eyes have been on him since then.”

“Seems that way. But I went to the bathroom during that race, so I missed seeing it. It all feels kinda bizarre to me. Didn’t you compete against the former student council president? That’s what everyone was buzzing about right after the festival ended,” said Hasebe.

“Did you do track and field back in junior high, Ayanokouji? After seeing you run, a talent scout from the track and field club came looking for you,” said Miyake.

“Ah, yeah. I got some offers. But I refused,” I replied. The track and field club’s enthusiasm was only temporary. They couldn’t keep trying to recruit me forever. The people in the club probably weren’t talking about me anymore. Even if someone was fast, if they had no interest in joining a club, hounding them to join would be pointless.

“To be honest, I’ve never been in a club before,” I added. “I don’t really know much about that stuff.”

“Oh, really? What a shame,” said Miyake.

Yukimura just listened, never speaking once. Hasebe, disinterested, switched the conversation’s topic to Miyake. “Miyacchi is in the archery club. Is it fun shooting bows every day?”

“I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t fun. By the way, you don’t shoot the bow, just arrows,” he replied.

Well, he’s not wrong there.

“I’m just not interested in clubs, I guess. I’m fine with spending time by myself,” said Hasebe.

My current impression of these two was quite different from what I’d previously imagined. They were far more talkative than I thought.

“Hey, Miyacchi. Is it okay for you to miss your club stuff?” asked Hasebe.

“I took time off.”

“Wow. You shouldn’t do that.”

“When something takes priority, I focus on it. Besides, my club’s pretty lenient, so I won’t be in any trouble.”

“Excuse me? I’d like to say something before we begin,” said Yukimura. Finally, he’d spoken up. He focused not on Miyake or Hasebe, but on me. “No hiding anything, Ayanokouji.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Studying. Horikita says you’re quite capable.”

“Ugh, Horikita,” I muttered. What a blabbermouth. I needed to give Yukimura something if I wanted to earn his trust. “Well, I’m relatively good at memorizing things. I think I can get a pretty high score if I concentrate.”

“Are you the type to hide his abilities?”

“Well, I can’t hold a candle to you, Yukimura. Please don’t expect too much of me. I’m not very good at teaching,” I replied.

“You should take this study group seriously, then. With me tutoring you, you’ll definitely score higher than you did on the midterm. Even if it’s just by one point.” Yukimura turned to Hasebe and Miyake. “Did you bring your answer sheets from the midterm and first semester exams like I asked?”

“Yeah,” said Hasebe.

Miyake nodded as well. They took their test papers from their bags and handed them over. I glanced at their papers and scores.

“Both of you excel in the sciences. Your humanities scores are a complete disaster,” said Yukimura.

Miyake and Hasebe had scored relatively high in math, earning around seventy points. But they only got about forty points in language and world history. It was obvious why the two of them were worried.

“I didn’t know you two were so close, but you certainly do share the same strengths and weaknesses,” added Yukimura.

“Well, Hasebe came and talked to me when I was studying in the library one day,” said Miyake.

“Miyacchi and I are both independent people. We don’t really fit in with everyone else,” Hasebe added.

“I feel the same, in a way,” said Miyake. “Even in this group, I feel awkward and distant.”

The two of them were certainly distant from the rest of the class, and they didn’t belong to any specific clique. Was this the reason why?

“So, why did you agree to join us?” asked Yukimura.

“Because this isn’t really a club, I guess. It’s just a study group. Besides, it’ll be quiet with just the few of us, right? When I study by myself, nothing bothers me or gets in the way. I think I’ll have to process my new study method, then. Sorry, but I’ll need a little time.”

“Got it. How about we have a little tea break?” Hasebe asked. She immediately took out her phone and relaxed. I supposed it was easy for anyone to pass the time nowadays, as long as you had a phone. Would it be appropriate for me to take mine out now, too?

Suddenly, I felt as if someone was watching me. I turned around. Several male students, each on the phone with somebody, were in fact eyeing us. I recognized three of them; all were from Class C. I only recalled the name of the one in the middle, Ishizaki.

Hopefully, they weren’t about to drag me into another troublesome mess. It didn’t seem like Ishizaki and the others were picking a fight. Although they looked at me now and again, they walked over to the display case next to the register. The case was lined with various cakes, which you could either order to go or enjoy there in the café. The strawberry shortcake and the Mont Blanc appeared especially popular, but I wasn’t exactly knowledgeable about that stuff.

The cashier seemed to be having some difficulty hearing what the Class C students wanted to order. As she listened, she never leaned over to take out, say, a strawberry shortcake from the case. Before long, she looked anxious and apologetic.

“There’s no way you can do it?!” roared Ishizaki. The lively café quieted at once.

“Sir, we need to have at least one week’s advance notice for any special-order cakes,” the cashier replied. “I’m afraid it’s not possible to prepare something on the same day.”

After hearing the cashier’s response, people began chatting in the café once again.

“What’s that all about?” asked Hasebe. She twirled her pen around and looked at Ishizaki and his friends with disgust.

“Who knows? Doesn’t have anything to do with us,” replied Yukimura, indifferent. He was writing something down on Hasebe and Miyake’s test papers, probably figuring out which subjects they were having trouble in and coming up with a plan.

“Cake, huh?” I wasn’t the least bit interested in what Ishizaki was talking to the cashier about, but the topic of cake reminded me that it was my birthday tomorrow. Honestly, I didn’t know how to spend a birthday like a normal person. My birthday always meant that I was simply another year older.

I knew that a birthday was often celebrated with family, a lover, or friends. I just didn’t understand what I should feel.

“What’s the matter, Ayanokouji-kun?”

“Nothing.”

Tomorrow was October 20. Some other students or teachers might share my birthday. Nothing unusual there. The only difference between those people and me was that I didn’t have anybody to celebrate with. I wondered whether someone would acknowledge my birthday next year.

5.4

“I ’M GOING TO GET another coffee,” said Hasebe.

“Me too,” said Miyake. More than thirty minutes had passed, and Yukimura still hadn’t looked up from their papers. It seemed like his review and plan of attack was going to take a while yet.

Hasebe and Miyake went to the counter with their empty cups. Pallet had a policy that, if you brought your receipt back on the same day, you could get another cup for half price. The coffee was inexpensive and delicious, and the café offered the perfect amount, so it was becoming quite popular amongst the first-year students. Hasebe and Miyake were already on their third cups. Yukimura, still focused, had half of his first coffee remaining. He was intensely focused on the textbooks, notes, and test papers, calmly marking things down as he went along.

“Seems like hard work,” I said.

“I’ve never really taught someone else how to study before. I mean, a long time ago, I taught this one junior-high idiot to pull an all-nighter, but I couldn’t stand it. I wasn’t able to concentrate on the material, because he didn’t have the fundamentals down,” said Yukimura.

He briefly set down his pen and looked up at the ceiling.

“Even now, I can’t forget the time I wasted. I thought it was so stupid, trying to teach people how to study. When you and Horikita rounded up those guys who were about to fail, and held those study sessions, honestly, I was laughing at you. The same goes for Hirata’s group. I mean, doesn’t it seem like a waste? Nearly everyone who hates studying just can’t study in the first place. I felt like teaching them to cram for a couple days was useless, since they’d just go back to how they were before.”

Rather than coming off like he was spewing vitriol, it seemed more like Yukimura was simply expressing his honest thoughts.

“So, why did you decide to help tutor?” I asked.

This test was unlike anything in junior high; his anecdote and our current situation couldn’t really be compared. If we didn’t study enough for our upcoming monster of a test, then that was the end of it.

Yukimura was taking on some significant responsibility. If Hasebe and Miyake did get expelled, he might blame himself. That was the kind of person he was.

“I was useless in the sports festival. I got tripped up by the thing I dismissed as unimportant. Ultimately, the only difference between me and other students is what we’ve given up on, be it athletics or academics.”

Ike, Yamauchi, and Sudou couldn’t study. Yamauchi couldn’t do sports. No matter who specialized in what, the school had determined that those two areas were of equal importance, which was probably why Yukimura had come to this conclusion.

“Just being able to study isn’t enough for this school. Just being athletic isn’t enough. If you combine those two things, that still isn’t enough. Even people like Horikita and Hirata, who are gifted both academically and athletically, definitely can’t make it through the challenges ahead with just those skills alone. Intuition, insight, and taste. We have to rely on those traits, which are essential for living in society. Working as a team is vital. That’s the only way we win,” said Yukimura.

He had probably suffered through several hardships before he came to this school.

“So, I decided to help. I’ll do what I can to contribute.”

In order to do that, he would use his specialty to his advantage by holding a study group.

“Also, I was self-centered. I thought I’d be fine as long as I could study. All I worried about was myself. I was just like my selfish mother. That’s why I took a good hard look at myself, and… Ah, that’s not important. Forget it.”

He looked down. “If I had to tutor Ike and the other guys, I’d probably have a much worse time of it. Miyake and Hasebe both take their studies seriously, so it might be easy. Besides, they’re already good at science. It shouldn’t be too hard to cover the rest. I don’t know much I’ll be able to help, but we’ll probably see at least some improvement.”

Such positive thinking. Well, Yukimura probably realized that this was where he could do the most good. Even I could tell that Hasebe and Miyake took their studies seriously and had decent attitudes. They could focus and understand the material. Seeing that, Yukimura wanted to match their efforts.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I said.

Hasebe and Miyake hadn’t returned. Since it seemed like it’d be a little while yet before our study session started, I got up to leave.

The real reason was that I felt Ishizaki and his friends gazing at me.

Also…I felt someone else’s presence. I didn’t have the clearest view, but indeed, someone was secretly watching me. Yukimura was preoccupied at the moment, so I walked straight over and sat next to my new stalker. She didn’t seem to notice me stroll up.

“What are you doing out here, Sakura?” I asked.

“Hyaaah?!” Sakura practically jumped out of her seat in fear. “I-It’s just a coincidence, Ayanokouji-kun!”

“A coincidence, huh?”

“Yes, a coincidence.”

“Well, I thought you were looking over at me from time to time.”

“Well, that’s… I mean… I’m sorry.” Sakura immediately apologized. She wasn’t confident enough to carry out the lie.

“Is there anything you want to talk to me about?” If it wasn’t urgent, she could just have called or sent an email. She wasn’t the type to hang out at Pallet with friends. “Did you want to join the study group?”

“Wh-wh-why do you say that?!”

“Well, I see study materials in your bag.”

This was odd. Naturally, you’d only have all of your notebooks with you if you were going to study. Quite a few students were hitting the books on their own. However, Sakura would never choose to study in such a crowded place.

“Ah…um!” Sakura panicked and tried to close her bag, but it was too late. The way she was acting screamed that she wanted to participate.

“Well, why not sit with us? I’ll ask everyone else.”

“B-but I…I’ve hardly ever spoken to them before.” Sakura wasn’t good at interacting with people, so she couldn’t approach our table. I understood that much.

“Well, you probably came here for a specific reason. I mean, the Sakura I know likely wouldn’t come all the way to Pallet and risk bumping into people pointlessly,” I told her.

Being in public still wasn’t easy for Sakura. She’d probably been tempted to leave or run back to her dorm, but managed to keep herself here. That meant something was going on in her mind.

“Well, you decide, Sakura. It’s not totally up to me. We have to consider how Yukimura, Hasebe, and Miyake would feel,” I said.

Sakura might be dejected to hear me say that, but her passivity could be bad for her. If I wanted her to step up and grow, the best plan of action was to keep my distance and watch over her. Then again, I felt as though communicating with Miyake and Hasebe was relatively easy, compared to the rest of our classmates. I’m sure Sakura felt the same.

“It’s okay if you want to think about it. We’ll probably be here for another hour,” I told her.

Though it might have been a little cold of me, I left Sakura and returned to my seat. The place was popular, but if I spent too long standing beside her, Hasebe would take notice. Yukimura glanced at me and said nothing. After about two minutes, Miyake and Hasebe returned.

“Did you finish checking everything?” Miyake asked.

“Just a little longer,” replied Yukimura. He picked up the pace.

“Ah, that reminds me. There’s something I want to ask you, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Hasebe.

“Knock it off, Hasebe,” said Miyake. Well, this sounded ominous.

“Come on, it’s fine. It’s not like it’s the end of the world if someone hears,” said Hasebe.

“That’s not the problem. There’s a time and place for this,” he replied.

Very ominous.

“Well, classes are done for the day. Isn’t right now the absolute best time to talk?” Hasebe countered.

Miyake shook his head, as if he didn’t know what to do. What in the world was Hasebe up to?

“Ayanokouji-kun, are you going out with Horikita-san?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Whoa. Not even a pause to think about it? I’d say it sounded like that answer was pretty well-rehearsed. Kinda suspicious, don’t you think?”

“Several people already asked, that’s why. It’s not like Horikita and I are always together or anything,” I answered.

“I suppose. But you know what they say—rumors about love are half truths, half lies.”

For a solitary girl, Hasebe really seemed interested in romance. I suppose a sensible man in this situation would see whether Hasebe had a boyfriend. Of course, I wasn’t going to do that. More specifically, it was impossible for me to do so.

“Okay.” Yukimura suddenly lifted his head. It seemed he’d finished checking everything. “I feel like I’ve figured out where you two struggle. I’d like to propose a detailed study plan.”

He handed Miyake the test papers, his comments written in the margins.

“I tried coming up with some sample humanities questions for you to work on. I’ll have Hasebe go through the same problems later, so don’t write your answers directly into my notebook. The time limit is ten minutes. There are ten questions in total,” said Yukimura.

Miyake took the notebook without complaint. He knew Yukimura was doing this to help him. After he’d struggled for ten minutes, he passed it to Hasebe so she could do the same. Yukimura had probably designed these questions to pinpoint their weaknesses.

When the twenty-minute testing period ended, Yukimura immediately began writing down their scores.

“Seriously, you two…”

He returned their answer sheets, letting out an exasperated sigh. Miyake and Hasebe had each gotten only three answers correct and six incorrect, and each scored half points on one question. What was really surprising was that they managed to get the exact same questions right and wrong.

“You don’t just have similar strengths. You also tend to memorize things in exactly the same way,” said Yukimura.

“Wow! Doesn’t it feel as if this is kind of like fate, Miyacchi?” Hasebe asked.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Oh, come on. You never play along. But, uh, isn’t this kind of a problem?” she asked Yukimura. She was starting to panic a little, but it wasn’t entirely something to worry about.

“Actually, this situation is convenient. It’ll only take half the effort to solve.”

If Hasebe and Miyake’s academic skills and tendencies were that much in sync, then Yukimura could basically think of it as actually teaching one person. Of course, there’d be at least a few minor differences between them, but everything would proceed more smoothly than expected.

“Do you think this is going to be easy?” Miyake asked.

“Well, that depends on how much effort you’ll put in. Even though the questions I came up with were kind of basic, your scores weren’t good. It makes me a little anxious, frankly. I’d like us to meet up seven or eight times before the final. Rather than tutoring constantly, it’ll be good to give you some time for self-study, too. Are you three okay with that? Miyake, you might have conflicts with club activities, right?”

“Since the final exam is getting closer, we’ll probably take a break from club activities, but let me ask for the time off,” replied Miyake.

Yukimura nodded. That just left Hasebe.

“Okay, so let me just ask one thing,” she said. “Won’t this just feel like typical studying? I mean, I don’t like studying or anything, but if this is just reviewing stuff, I think I can do it on my own. So, how does a group help? Obviously, I understand that having a smart person tutor me is good and all. But I came here because Miyacchi recommended it, and I’m still on the fence.”

“I doubt your anxiety stems solely from my teaching methods,” remarked Yukimura, having read between the lines. “This isn’t a normal study group. If this were a regular test, the school would prepare the questions. But this time, another class will write them. These questions won’t be standardized and easy to study for. With other students making problems, there are unknown variables. It’ll be difficult to anticipate them. That’s exactly why studying’s necessary.”

Miyake was convinced. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure Class C will try to trip us up.”

“Yeah,” Yukimura said. “Well, the questions might seem impossible for us to imagine right now, but what if we identify the people coming up with them? Personally, I think Kaneda will do it.”

I’d heard that name before.

“He’s that one creepy weirdo with the glasses, right?” asked Hasebe.

“I don’t know if I’d put it like that, but yeah. He’s the best student in Class C,” said Yukimura. It was reasonable to assume that the best student would make the questions.

“But if Class C is trying to trick us, won’t Ryuuen or maybe Ishizaki come up with some, too?”

“No way. Without a thorough understanding of the subject, they won’t be able to come up with anything. Take you two, for example. Think about subjects you’re poor at, like the humanities. Do you really think you’d be able to create a tricky question?” asked Yukimura.

“No. I wouldn’t even be able to think of a question.”

“Yeah. Besides, what kind of social studies problems would even be on the test?”

“Exactly. At best, you’d think of the most obvious problems. It would be a challenge to come up with obtuse or tricky questions no matter how you tried. Even if you scoured the textbook for the really difficult parts, if you didn’t establish the problem properly, the school would probably turn it down,” said Yukimura.

He made good points, but they weren’t quite strong enough to instill confidence.

“It’s ultimately up to the school to decide whether to use a question, right?” I interjected. “In that case, don’t you think we should clearly understand the line between a question that’s acceptable and one that isn’t?”

“True,” said Yukimura. “We wouldn’t have to struggle if we knew that.”

“So, if Class D deliberately submits a number of extreme questions that border on going too far, then we see what’s accepted. Wouldn’t that give us a solid understanding of what’s okay and what’s not?” I asked.

“That’s certainly a good idea,” said Miyake.

“You’re really smart, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Hasebe.

“We’ll probably need to come up with provisional questions as soon as possible so we can identify the school’s standards. I’ll try to create questions myself, but would Horikita and Hirata be willing to help out?” Yukimura asked.

“I dunno. I’m just spitballing here.”

“Well, that’s not good. You’re the only person who can get in touch with them, Ayanokouji,” Yukimura said. Miyake and Hasebe nodded in tandem.

“Well, I’ll do whatever I can. Just don’t expect too much of me,” I replied. Did Horikita and Yukimura both intend to make me their middleman?

“Yeah. Okay.” Hasebe smiled, her doubts about the study group gone. “Well, I’m not in any clubs, so I’m good. Let’s decide when to meet based on what works for Miyacchi.”

Miyake looked over at Hasebe in surprise. “I thought you were going to back out, Hasebe. This is unusual. You don’t normally want to get involved with other guys,” said Miyake.

“If it were just me getting expelled, I wouldn’t care. But I don’t want to drag you down with me, Miyacchi. You know? It’d be bad if I didn’t actually study this time around.”

“Well, I suppose this is enough for today. The first study session is the day after tomorrow.” Yukimura brought things to a close. Was he planning to explore their problem areas today and tomorrow, then devise countermeasures? I couldn’t be sure.

As we got up to leave, I realized Sakura still hadn’t come over to talk to us.

5.5

A FTER I SEPARATED from the other three members of the group and returned to my dorm, I immediately contacted Horikita for instructions. I told her all about what Yukimura had said.

“This is good. We’ll definitely want to test the school,” she said. “Hirata and I are already making progress coming up with questions to use against Class C, but I’d like to know just how far we can go. I’ll be sure to fill you in. I’m glad that everything seems to be going well, but are we really sure that Kaneda-kun will be the person in Class C creating questions?”

“There’s no way to be sure,” I replied. “But trying to anticipate the kinds of questions Kaneda would come up with is certainly one way we can handle these study sessions. It’s not the worst, right?”

“I suppose. If we imagine that this test will be full of difficult questions, we might need to try to get eighty or ninety points,” said Horikita.

If this exam ended up being far more difficult than anything the school itself would have created, there would probably be a limit to how many points we could get.

“By the way, how did the study group go, if you don’t mind my asking?”

There really wasn’t any reason for me to hide it, so I filled her in, though I did exaggerate a little. I tried to make it sound as though I’d managed to make friends. Horikita didn’t touch on that subject at all. She only cared about Hasebe and Miyake’s academic abilities.

“I doubt they’re doing it on purpose, but it’s quite the coincidence,” she mused.

It wasn’t unusual for people’s strengths and weaknesses to overlap, but this degree of similarity was uncanny.

“I know, right? For the time being, I’ll see what I can do. They seem easy enough to supervise, anyway,” I said.

“Thank you. Also, there’s one more thing. On the days when Yukimura-kun’s study group doesn’t meet, would you please come to mine?”

“That’s not what we agreed.”

“It’s still within our terms. You don’t have to tutor. I just want you to manage everyone,” Horikita replied.

The word “manage” was vague, so vague that I had absolutely no clue what she meant. I understood it as much as I understood the expression “more than friends, less than lovers.” Which was to say, not at all.

“What do you mean, ‘manage’?” I asked.

She sighed heavily.

“Too many people need tutoring, compared to the number who can teach. I can’t keep my eye on everyone, no matter how hard I try. I’d like you to make sure everybody studies properly,” said Horikita.

“The teachers manage to teach dozens of students all by themselves, right?”

“At the risk of sounding self-aggrandizing, it’s not as though even our teachers can watch everyone by themselves. That’s why you have some students, like Ike-kun, who fall behind. It’d happen regardless of whether we have surveillance cameras—which we do. Even if they fool the teacher into thinking they understood, in the end, they struggle to keep up,” said Horikita.

I’d thought my argument was swift and decisive, but she had managed to topple it in one fell swoop.

“Yukimura-kun isn’t accustomed to tutoring, and I’m having trouble with the sheer number of people I have to teach. Ike-kun and Yamauchi-kun are especially problematic. They have shorter attention spans than a kindergartener.”

Ike and Yamauchi were attending the study sessions, but they were apparently just goofing off and doing whatever they wanted.

“Any objections?”

“None.”

“Excellent.”

“It’s okay if I don’t go to the night sessions, right?”

“That’s fine. The nighttime study sessions are significantly better than the daytime ones, anyway, though some of the girls in that group can be troublesome,” said Horikita.

I guessed that some girls only showed up at the sessions to be around Hirata and didn’t mind that Karuizawa was there. I didn’t see the harm in those girls chatting with a hot guy like him. Surely it wouldn’t be so bad if the ladies’ man controlled by Karuizawa happened to become more popular in Class D. Regardless, that had to be an interesting dynamic.

I realized that Horikita didn’t mention Sudou among those causing issues. “Has Sudou been behaving?”

“Yes. He’s taking this seriously, though he still hasn’t reached junior high level yet.”

Subjects aside, it seemed as though he was really trying his best to improve his attitude.

“I’m counting on you.” I still didn’t have a good feeling about this. “Oh, yeah. While we’re on the subject of the study groups, what about Kushida?”

“What do you mean?”

“Has nothing changed with her?”

“Of course not. I do think that she’ll help. She also promised to attend the study sessions every day,” said Horikita.

That wasn’t quite what I was asking. But I supposed that, as far as Horikita was concerned, there wasn’t much to worry over. After all, it was just the very first day of the study sessions. There wasn’t much opportunity for her to investigate further. From my point of view, though, we simply couldn’t kick back and casually watch this problem develop.

“Have you started creating test questions?”

“Of course I have. Mine, Hirata-kun’s, and Yukimura-kun’s will form the fundamental basis. I wanted more people to help, but the more classmates I involve, the greater the risk that the problems will leak to Class C,” said Horikita.

She was exactly right. The questions and the accompanying answers were the key components of Class D’s defense. Even if we tried our hardest to study and come up with a way to attack, we wouldn’t stand a chance if Class C conquered those. We can’t allow our test questions to leak, by any means. We also needed to consider that we might run into someone snooping for information.

“It’d certainly be difficult to rule out any possibility of leaks if we factored in Kushida. Wait, aren’t you and her both participating in the evening study sessions? I mean, it’d be hard for you to discuss things with Hirata if you didn’t.”

“Yes, you’re right. She can’t just act freely, however. As long as we don’t ask for her help with the test questions, it should be okay.”

This chat about Kushida and what she might do next was pure speculation on both our parts. “Our test questions and answers are Class D’s lifeline. If that information leaks, we’re doomed,” I said.

Setting her desire to make an ally out of Kushida aside, she needed to focus on the topic of leaks. We couldn’t just ignore the potential dangers.

“I’ll keep things locked down. But that alone won’t solve the issue, will it?”

“I’m not worried about the ‘creating questions’ part. If anything, I fear what comes after we submit them to the school. If you give the final questions and answers to Chabashira-sensei the day before the test, then they’ll be out there, ready to be stolen,” I told Horikita.

Kushida had employed a similar tactic with the participation table during the sports festival. It was more than likely that Ryuuen would make a similar request of her again.

“So, the only way we can deal with this is by talking it out with Kushida,” said Horikita.

“But what do we do if she leaks our questions to Class C?” I countered.

“I don’t want to think about it,” she said.

“You have to. This is about all of Class D. No matter how much we study or improve, if our opponents get a hundred points across the board, we have no hope of winning,” I told her. If Class C memorized all our answers, defeat was certain.

“I see what you’re saying, and I understand your anxiety. But I’m dealing with it. It’s already past ten o’clock. I’d like to come up with at least one more question before I go to bed, so is it okay if we stop here?”

I agreed, and she hung up. My phone’s battery was low, so I plugged it in to the outlet on my bedframe to charge.

We were now facing an ordeal like that of the sports festival. Just like our participation table, the questions we’d craft for the final exam were our lifeline. Surely Ryuuen and Kushida would come up with two different strategies this time around.

Horikita said she was working on countermeasures, but I didn’t know how well they’d go. I wasn’t criticizing her strategy to persuade Kushida directly, but rather, didn’t have much to say about it. If I had to bring Kushida over to my side, I’d threaten her like Karuizawa. No—I’d probably need to do something far worse to make Kushida surrender to me. However, I didn’t know the details of Kushida’s past, and she might not fold under pressure.

“What should I do?” I muttered.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t come up with a solution. Then, I received an email from Ryuuen.

After the sports festival, I’d asked Manabe and her friends for Ryuuen’s email address and sent him a message. I hadn’t received a response until now.

What are you?

That was the entire message.

“Another meaningless email…”

I wasn’t nice enough to answer him, and besides, he couldn’t trace my email. It was a dummy account. He should’ve known that, so I figured he was playing games.

I decided to go to sleep.

5.6

I T WAS STILL PRETTY EARLY in the day. The library bustled after classes ended, absolutely full of students. Normally, barely a tenth of the seats were occupied, but now the place was at half capacity. Although it was crowded, it was quiet. Most students were completely immersed in studying rather than chatting with their friends or reading books.

“Wow. So, this is the library, huh?” muttered Satou. She sounded interested.

Ah, yes. That brought me to my own little problem. Satou had decided to join the study session. I hadn’t spoken to her since we exchanged contact information. This was extremely awkward.

“This is my first time here. What about you, Ayanokouji-kun?”

“I’ve been a few times,” I replied.

“I see. You’re so studious!”

“Well, it’s more like I come here to kill time.”

“You come to the library to kill time? That’s strange.”

Apparently, my pretty-generic answer was weird. I had no idea what to think, so I was feeling a little distracted. I just didn’t know what Satou was trying to do. She was a girl, though, so I figured she’d pick up on my emotions.

“Hey, um, Ayanokouji-kun… I’m not a bother, am I?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I did just suddenly tell you I was joining the study session and all.”

“I don’t mind. Horikita and Kushida are the ones tutoring, and they should be happy to have more people.”

No one wanted to see their classmates expelled. I tried to pivot our conversation in that direction. Obviously, that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“That’s not what I mean.”

Satou looked a little depressed. Being in the library was kind of annoying; I had to whisper to avoid bothering other students, and as a result, got far closer to Satou than I normally would’ve. I could practically feel her breath on my skin.

Was this a youthful moment of hedonism? If so, youth was kind of a pain in the butt. I wasn’t enjoying this in the slightest. I was nervous and worried about Satou. I discerned what she was feeling and chose my words carefully based on that.

I basically just wanted to go home.

But…did I really?

I tried to examine my current situation. I could certainly grow perplexed when faced with the unknown. This was too abstract to be called “love,” and I couldn’t really put a finger on it. From my perspective as a nobody, I was always prepared for immediate rejection.

But hadn’t I come to this school because I was looking for something other than routine?

“Wow. Everyone looks so serious,” said Satou. “They’re really studying.”

“The library’s a pretty normal place to study, actually,” Horikita replied, appearing out of nowhere.

I regained my composure and cleared my mind. I wanted to get through this study session.

Horikita, who had been to the library before, didn’t seem fazed by the spectacle in the slightest.

“Okay, you guys,” Horikita said to Ike and Yamauchi. “No commotion tonight, okay? Next time you make a scene, there’s a chance they’ll kick you out of the library.”

“Y-yeah, we know already. Sheesh.”

Satisfied that the problem children had heard her warning, Horikita went to secure us seats. Even though more than half the chairs were vacant, that didn’t necessarily mean that they were free. It was an unspoken rule that the seats near the café window and next to the library drinks station were for senior students only. In this territorial division, first-year students were only allowed to use the noisy area near the entrance. This visible hierarchy was pretty much present in every school.

However, we had an additional concern this time. We wanted to avoid being near Class C students as much as possible.

“What are you doing, Horikita?” I asked.

“If it’s the thing you’re concerned about, Ayanokouji-kun, don’t worry. I’m already dealing with it.”

Directly ahead of us, Ichinose Honami—a Class B girl—entered the first-year students’ area. She waved, inviting us to come talk to her. Eight other Class B students, four guys and four girls, hung around Ichinose. Nine people total. I glanced over at Horikita. Judging by her expression, she wasn’t perturbed by this. Ichinose approached us.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said Horikita.

“Oh no, not at all. We just got here ourselves,” said Ichinose.

“I met with Ichinose-san yesterday and suggested we form a joint study group. Since we aren’t competing against Class B in this exam, I thought we could help each other,” said Horikita.

Evidently, Horikita had made some sort of proposal that involved a good number of people. This must have been what mentioned yesterday. Well. Every silver lining has a cloud, as they say. Ike and Yamauchi, who’d managed to keep calm up until now, suddenly jumped.

“Ike-kun, I warned you, didn’t I?” Horikita grabbed Ike’s arm. He locked up in terror, like a frog being glared at by a snake. Why had he and Yamauchi suddenly become so excited? I supposed getting together with Class B girls was appropriately stimulating.

“Ayanokouji-kun, you came, too!” said Ichinose.

“I was pretty close to failing. I might need your help,” I replied.

“Oh no, I’m sure I’m the one who needs help,” she said.

Even though the library was a quiet space, you could still hold a conversation. Because Ichinose managed to secure us some corner seats, the music playing throughout the library completely drowned out our low voices. The music was Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6, “Pastoral.” I didn’t know who’d picked the song, but it was something I could relax to; a pretty good choice.

To think Horikita had actually formed a joint study group. Assuming that we were able to work together with Class B, this would likely be more efficient. Mutual exchange of information meant more varied perspectives, which in turn meant more creative test questions.

However, we were also taking certain risks. If any Class B students had ties to Class C, our information might leak. Of course, Horikita already understood that. She probably chose to bring us together because the benefits outweighed the risks.

The students from both our classes had freely filled the seats in our area.

“Sit here, Ayanokouji-kun.” Satou urged me to sit beside her, so I did.

“Yeah, sure.”

“What’s going on, Satou? You’re sitting awfully close to Ayanokouji-kun.”

“It’s only natural, isn’t it? Since we’re partners.”

I took out my textbook and notes right away, so Ichinose wouldn’t think me tactless. Even if it was just for show, I probably still needed to study.

“Hey, Ayanokouji-kun, what would be the best way for me to prepare?” asked Satou.

“You should ask Horikita,” I replied.

“But this is a good opportunity, isn’t it? You’re partners, after all. Why don’t you take care of Satou-san, Ayanokouji-kun?” drawled Horikita, without consideration for anyone’s feelings.

“My test scores are only slightly different from Satou’s, so there’s probably not that much I can teach her. Besides, I wanted to get some tutoring myself,” I said hastily, hoping to save face in front of Ichinose.

“I see. In that case, I’ll tutor you both,” said Ichinose. I got the feeling she was drawing a commitment out of me.

“Let’s do our best together, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Satou.

“Y-yeah.” I was starting to feel pretty anxious about this study group. As it turned out, my hunch was right on the money.

“You’re always so calm, Ayanokouji-kun. You just have this really mature vibe. What were you like back in junior high?” Satou drew closer to me, looking into my eyes. Her uniform was slightly unbuttoned, and I caught a glimpse of her cleavage. I wasn’t sure whether she noticed, but her breathing was a little heavy.

“I guess pretty normal. I didn’t particularly stand out. Not very different from now. Maybe that’s why people say I’m gloomy.” I tried to inch away and emphasize how boring I was.

It was fine if Satou had a crush on me, but people were staring at us right now, and I hated it. Ike and Yamauchi, in particular, glared incredulously at me.

“You’re not gloomy at all, Ayanokouji-kun. I think you’re cool,” said Satou. “Or maybe really composed?”

“I don’t think ‘cool’ applies to me,” I said.

“Really? Well, I don’t know about other people, but that’s what I think.”

No matter what I said, Satou interpreted it as interesting. I needed an escape plan. “Okay, how about we find out what our weaknesses are? Did you bring your midterm with you?”

“I did.”

She took some crumpled-up test papers out of her bag. She’d scored around fifty points across the board in every test. Although she’d answered simple questions correctly and wasn’t quite in danger of failing, anything of medium difficulty or higher was disastrous. It was actually a mystery to me how Satou managed to stay in this school for this long.

“It’s kind of bad, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah…a little. Since we seem to be about the same level, we should study together.”

“Yes!” Satou looked incredibly excited, but I wished she wasn’t so loud.

“Aren’t you two getting along a little too well?” asked Ike, his eyes full of suspicion.

“We’re partners. It’s only natural, right?” replied Satou, radiating confidence as she used the test as a pretense.

“Ike, why don’t you study, rather than concentrate on things you don’t understand?” said Horikita, evidently not caring who got along with whom.

“Tch. Yeah, yeah. I know,” he grumbled, getting his materials ready.

Ike’s discipline. The gift that kept on giving.

5.7

O UR STUDY SESSION ended without incident, and everyone started to head back to the dorm.

“Aw, I’m beat!” Ike whined.

For people like Ike and Yamauchi, who couldn’t even concentrate during normal school hours, an after-school study session was the very definition of hell. They beamed with delight at being finally free, but Horikita glared icily at them.

“Today’s not the end. We have another session tomorrow,” she said.

“C-come on, I know that. Isn’t it okay for me to be at least a little happy? I worked hard!” Ike shot back as the two idiots raced out of the library. They looked like startled rabbits.

“Wow, Class D sure is lively. I almost wish you’d share some of that energy with us!” said Ichinose.

“Yeah, but they’re lively about all the wrong things. To be honest, I envy Class B,” replied Horikita.

She wasn’t mistaken to feel that way. The Class B students were more focused than Class D; they were calm and composed, and cooperated with one another.

“Goodbye,” Kushida said to Ichinose. “Horikita-san, goodbye to you, too.”

“Yeah, goodbye,” Horikita replied.

Kushida left without incident, a few other girls in tow. So, she was playing it cool for now. It seemed that both she and Horikita were checking each other out.

“Ichinose-san, can I ask you a few questions?” asked Horikita.

“Hmm? What kind of questions?”

“I’d prefer it if this was just between you and me. It’ll only take a few minutes,” said Horikita, scanning the other Class B students who were about to leave with Ichinose.

“A few minutes? All right. Sorry, everybody, but could you please wait for me in the hall?” asked Ichinose.

“Yeah, that’s okay. We’ll just chat while we wait,” one of them said.

The Class B students had amicably accepted her request, and Ichinose agreed to stay behind with Horikita. After that, the other Class B and D students departed, leaving the three of us here alone.

“Should I stay?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter either way,” said Horikita.

I thought she was being sarcastic, for a moment, but then realized she was probably employing reverse psychology to make me stick around.

“What did you want to talk about?” asked Ichinose.

It felt a little strange that the pair of them were alone like this. Ichinose and Horikita, two people with opposite personalities, stood shoulder to shoulder.

“Ichinose-san, if a friend or an ally were in trouble, you’d help them. Right?” asked Horikita.

“Um, yeah? Isn’t that only natural?” replied Ichinose.

“Mm-hmm. And it’s very kind of Class B to help us with these study sessions. But ‘help’ takes shape in a number of ways, just as there are myriad types of suffering. If someone reached out to you for help with studying, bullies, money problems, or even relationships between friends or with their teacher, you’d offer them a hand. Right, Ichinose-san?” asked Horikita.

“Of course,” Ichinose answered immediately. There was no indecision.

“Then, do you have clear criteria for determining who is and isn’t your friend?” Maybe Horikita’s conflict with Kushida prompted these questions. She may have been looking for salvation of her own.

“Hmm. I don’t quite understand. What do you mean?”

“Well, would you be unconditionally willing to help someone, as long as they were from Class B? Even if that student didn’t contribute much to the class?”

“No matter how the other person acted, I’d be on Class B’s side. If someone were in trouble, I’d definitely try to help.” Ichinose spoke without hesitation once more.

“Maybe this is a silly question, after all,” said Horikita with a sigh. “Well, let me ask you another silly question. Let’s suppose someone in Class B hated you, making your relationship rocky at best. Would you be able to like that person? Or would you end up hating them in return?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure. That’s a bit difficult. If they really hated me, my best option would be to avoid contact as much as possible, to keep them from disliking me even more,” said Ichinose.

“And if that person were in trouble, what would you do?”

“Help them,” said Ichinose immediately. “Even if they really hated me, I’m always Class B’s ally.”

“Class B seems extremely important to you,” said Horikita.

“Yes. They’re all good kids. I admit that, at first, I was sad I wasn’t in Class A. But now, I think I’m in the best class. Don’t you feel the same, Horikita?”

“Well…home is where you make it, I suppose. Class D isn’t too bad,” said Horikita.

“Oh?” I muttered, a little impressed.

“What, Ayanokouji-kun? Have something to add?” Horikita glared at me.

“Sorry to insert myself into your conversation, but can I ask you something, Ichinose?” I said.

“Sure.”

“I understand that your classmates are unconditional allies. I do think it’s necessary to be friends with everyone in your boat, so to speak. However, are the Class A, C, and D students your friends?”

“Well, you and Horikita-san are dear friends to me, Ayanokouji-kun.”

“Then what if we’re in trouble? What if we came to you, begging you to lend us a million points?” I asked.

“If there were a good reason, I’d help. The amount doesn’t matter,” said Ichinose.

“Sheesh. Your generosity knows no bounds. You’ll really help anyone?”

“Ideally, yes, but I know it’s not always that simple. There’s a limit to how much I can do myself. If Ryuuen-kun were in trouble, I couldn’t help him like I help others. But if it’s within my power, I’ll help,” said Ichinose.

I almost wanted to add that normally, an individual’s power had its limits.

She went on, “As long as you’re my friend, a problem’s nature or intensity doesn’t matter.”

“Although I appreciate that, I have my doubts. So, if I came crying to you, begging for help…?”

“I’d welcome you with open arms. My friends are my allies, too.”

Ichinose’s virtuousness must’ve made Horikita feel as though she were being teased a little. Her responses weren’t nearly as composed as usual.

“In that case…what would you do if Kanzaki-kun and I had the same problem?” Horikita asked.

“You mean if I had to pick one of you?” Ichinose was at a complete loss, even though it was just a hypothetical situation.

“If I allowed you to choose both, you’d do it in a heartbeat,” said Horikita.

“Ah ha ha, you got me.” She deliberated about it for a bit. “Sorry. I don’t know how to answer that. Both my friends are suffering from the same problem, and they’ve come looking to me for help—in a hypothetical scenario like that, no matter who I helped, I’d hurt someone else.”

That was just like Ichinose. Horikita seemed both genuinely surprised and impressed.

“I don’t believe purely good people exist. Humans are crafty animals who want their virtues rewarded,” said Horikita. This was her philosophy, but her argument practically dissolved before it had the chance to manifest. “But after hearing what you said… Maybe there really are good people in this world.”

She was being entirely sincere, yet Ichinose didn’t accept what Horikita had said. No, I supposed it would be better to say that she couldn’t accept it.

Ichinose seemed taken aback. “You’re giving me far too much credit, Horikita-san.”

She’d been honest and straightforward with us so far, but now, her eyes darted around the room. Ichinose stood up and walked over to the library window.

“Well, I at least think you’re a better person than anyone I’ve ever met,” said Horikita.

“I’m really not so wonderful,” replied Ichinose. She couldn’t even look Horikita in the face.

“Really, it’s not a big deal.” Horikita obviously noticed Ichinose’s strange reaction. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I went a little overboard. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t really make me uncomfortable.” Still, Ichinose was clearly shaken.

Judging by everything I had seen of Ichinose until now, I didn’t think anything that could have dampened her spirits. However, I may have been mistaken.

“Is that all you wanted to talk about? Chihiro-chan and the others are waiting on me. Can we call it a day?” Ichinose asked, as if she were trying to escape.

“Thank you for answering my silly questions,” said Horikita.

“No problem. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” replied Ichinose.

After she left, Horikita and I, a few third-year students, and the library staff were all that remained.

“Let’s head back,” said Horikita. “I still have things to do.”

“I’m just double-checking here, but what are you going to do about Kushida? It sounds like you came up with something,” I said. Horikita probably didn’t like being asked that question over and over, but I had to make sure.

“She’s special. I’ll have to be extra careful,” said Horikita.

“Special?”

“I’ve been thinking about several things. About the kind of life Kushida Kikyou would’ve had at this school had I not enrolled here. That was when it dawned on me. Everyone in class would’ve trusted and leaned upon her. She could have studied and played sports without any concerns. She would’ve carried on like that until graduation. However, my presence took that easy future from her. She worked with an enemy, Ryuuen-kun, in a desperate bid to drive me out. She didn’t hesitate to attack her own class. Of course, that isn’t my fault. It’s just bad luck that we ended up at the same school.”

So that was why she was trying to persuade Kushida, huh? It appeared she was taking on more of a burden than I’d initially imagined. No, perhaps it was more like she was trying to fulfill an obligation.

“I have a suggestion,” I told Horikita.

“What kind of suggestion?”

“I believe I found the puzzle piece you’ll need to reconcile with Kushida.”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you agree that Ichinose is a good person?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t doubt it, even if I caught wind of unpleasant rumors about her,” said Horikita.

“So, why not get a good person to mediate between you two? Frankly, I think nothing will come from a one-on-one conversation with Kushida. She would never reveal her true nature to anyone in Class D.”

“But wouldn’t Kushida act the same way in her presence? No matter who we asked for help, any students here would cause the same outcome,” said Horikita.

“Well, in that case, is there another student out there who might be able to mediate?” I asked.

“Well…”

“If you had to nominate just one student out of everyone here at school, you would name Ichinose, wouldn’t you?” I asked her.

“I can’t deny that… But even so, I don’t think it’s right to have Ichinose mediate,” said Horikita.

“I don’t think this’ll resolve everything. I’m just saying it’s a step in the right direction. Right now, you and Kushida aren’t even on good enough terms to talk. If Ichinose mediated, you could probably have an actual conversation.”

In fact, Ichinose was just the first step in resolving this problem. More puzzle pieces were yet to come.

Horikita shook her head. “You’re really going for the throat now. But I can’t accept that. I’m going to settle things with Kushida myself.”

In other words, she couldn’t bring Ichinose into it.

5.8

K USHIDA WAS WAITING for us out in the hallway. When she saw Horikita and I, she gave a small wave and smiled brightly. Horikita, however, was anything but surprised.

“Kushida-san. Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Horikita said.

“It’s all right. There’s still a little time left before we were scheduled to meet. What were you talking about with Honami-chan?” asked Kushida.

“Nothing important.”

“I’d still like to know. Is it something you can tell me?” Kushida’s tone of voice and smile remained unchanged, but the tension rose.

“Sure. After all, it’s completely unrelated to you,” said Horikita.

After being deliberately prompted to share what happened, Horikita began telling Kushida about her conversation with Ichinose, albeit with some changes.

“I asked her how I could talk to people equally, without showing distinction or favoritism.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not going to lie. I was asking about you, Kushida-san,” said Horikita.

“Listen here, Horikita-san. While you and I may not get along, I’d much rather talk about this without Ayanokouji-kun,” said Kushida. In other words, she didn’t want any more people to know her secret. “Or could it be…that Ayanokouji-kun and Ichinose-san now know something?”

She glared at us. Horikita, however, didn’t flinch.

“Sorry, Ayanokouji-kun, but could you head back without me?” said Horikita.

“Looks like I’m getting in the way,” I muttered. “I’ll get going.”

I left them and made my way toward the exit. After changing my shoes, I headed to the dormitory. En route, I got a call from Horikita and answered it.

I heard Horikita’s muffled voice through the phone’s speaker. “We attended the same junior high. Because I know about your past, you want to get me expelled. Do I have the facts correct?”

Apparently, Horikita had called me with her phone in her pocket. She was letting me listen in.

“Well, this is certainly sudden. Why bring up the past? I don’t like talking about that.”

“I don’t like it, either. But we can’t avoid it.”

“Well, we’ve rarely had the chance to be alone like this. But you’re certainly right — I do want you to disappear from this school, Horikita-san. And, yes, it’s because we were in junior high together, and you know about that incident.”

“I thought about this many times over. Although it’s true that I heard about an incident, I didn’t care. I didn’t have any friends back then anyway. All I heard were rumors. I don’t know what the truth really is.”

“But there’s no guarantee you don’t know, is there?”

“You’re right. That’s why you can’t let it go. No matter how much I deny it, you can’t be sure I’m not lying. I imagine that you’d like to have me kicked out of school because you can’t forgive me for knowing that there was an incident at all.”

Kushida didn’t deny it.

“How about we place a bet, Kushida-san?”

“A bet? What are you talking about?”

All went quiet for a moment. I couldn’t imagine that this was something Horikita had come up with on the fly. She’d most likely planned it.

“You don’t like that I’m here. I can’t do anything about that, right?”

“Right. As long as you’re here, Horikita-san, I can’t rest easy.”

“But we’re both in Class D. If we don’t work together, we can’t advance to Class A.”

“Actually, I think expelling you will solve the problem.”

“Do you plan on dropping out, too?”

“Of course not. Only you’ll drop out, Horikita-san.”

While their voices were muffled, and I couldn’t catch everything, both of them sounded very calm.

“I have no intention of dropping out,” said Horikita.

“Then there’s nothing we can do. I don’t think we can get along.”

“You might be right about that. I’ve been trying to come up with a way we can coexist.”

A solution didn’t come to mind for me, either. Not even now.

“Then. But I concluded that, no matter what I do, it’s impossible.”

“I think so too, Horikita-san. This won’t be over until one of us is gone.”

“We aren’t children. We can’t just fight. But you don’t trust me.”

There was a brief silence. Then Kushida spoke.

“What did you mean when you said ‘place a bet’?”

“If I score higher than you on the upcoming final exam, you’ll cooperate with me from now on without any hostility. I’m not expecting us to be best friends; I just want you to stop trying to hurt me. That’s all.”

“Are you challenging me personally, regardless of how many points we end up with in our pairs?”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous, Horikita-san. I didn’t beat your midterm score. Even if we based this bet on our total scores, it would still be hard for me to win. Besides, I’d gain nothing from winning.”

“Yes. That’s true. So…” Horikita’s voice was barely above a whisper now. “Let’s determine the winner based on one of the eight subjects. You’re free to choose whichever subject you’re best in. If your score is higher than mine, I’ll drop out of school. That’s my offer.”

I couldn’t believe this. This was no normal contest between two people of differing skill levels. Horikita was taking a huge gamble by putting her own expulsion on the table, and she gave Kushida rather favorable conditions to boot by allowing her to choose her best subject. If Kushida lost, she wouldn’t need to drop out. She’d just have to stop getting in Horikita’s way. On the other hand, if Kushida won, Horikita was done for.

“But this is just a verbal agreement, Horikita-san. If you lose, you could act like the bet never happened. Of course, I might not uphold my part of the arrangement, either. Can we both really trust what the other person says?”

“To make things official, I intend to involve a reliable witness.”

“A reliable witness?”

“If you would, please…niisan.”

“Wha—?!”

Kushida seemed honestly shocked when he showed up. I was, too. Horikita was so deadly serious about this agreement, she’d brought her older brother to act as witness.

“I’m terribly sorry to ask this of you, niisan. But I absolutely need your help.”

That’s right. She’d actually summoned Horikita Manabu, the former student council president and her older brother, to the spot.

“It’s been a long time, Kushida,” I heard him say. “Do you remember me?”

“I don’t forget people.”

The Horikita siblings had attended the same junior high as Kushida. But Horikita’s older brother graduated before the incident involving Kushida happened, so he couldn’t know that she’d caused it.

“I trust my brother the most in this school. You can trust him as well, Kushida-san. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him any details.”

“I was called to act as witness, nothing more. I’m not interested in anything else.”

“Are you okay with this, Horikita-senpai? If your little sister loses, then—”

“She made the bet. It has nothing to do with me.”

“I also swear that I won’t say a word to anyone if I lose, Kushida-san. I’d bring shame on my brother’s name if I went around breaking promises. I would never do that.”

The deal couldn’t possibly get any better for Kushida.

“You’re serious, aren’t you, Horikita-san?”

“I’m not the kind to wait around for people to strike.”

“Fine. I accept your challenge. And I’m all right with the terms of the bet. I choose mathematics. Can I assume that if we end up getting the same score, neither one of us wins?”

Horikita must have nodded. They’d agreed to terms right in front of Horikita’s brother. There was no way to back out now.

“I will fulfill my role as witness. Should either of you violate the bet, you’d best be prepared for the consequences.”

Even after retiring as student council president, Horikita’s brother still held a great deal of authority. Kushida would honor the arrangement until he graduated, at the very least.

“Thank you very much, niisan.”

The conversation went silent. Kushida and Horikita were probably waiting for Horikita’s brother to leave.

“I’m looking forward to the final exam, Horikita-san.”

“Let’s give it everything we’ve got. Both of us.”

“Yes. Give my regards to Ayanokouji-kun, too.”

“Why him?”

“Because you told him, didn’t you? About my past.”

“That’s—”

“Ah, you don’t really need to answer that. I don’t trust you, Horikita-san, so it doesn’t matter. I won’t violate our bet’s terms, so you can relax. Besides, Ayanokouji-kun has seen a little of my bad side.”

I felt Horikita’s panic through the phone. “Yes. I told Ayanokouji-kun.”

“I knew it. By the way, are you using your phone right now? You see, I’ve tried calling you over and over for the last few minutes, Horikita-san, but it seems like you’ve been on a call.”

It wasn’t just intuition. Kushida had some guts.

“Care to join us, Ayanokouji-kun?”

I heard Kushida calling me. It was probably best for me to obey.

5.9

I HEADED BACK to Kushida and Horikita.

“Yoo-hoo!” said Kushida. Although she had a cheery expression, I couldn’t tell what her true feelings were.

“You really got me, Kushida-san. Your insightfulness and your ability to take action are truly incredible,” said Horikita.

“Thank you. But, really, I’m merely observant,” replied Kushida.

“Why did you call for Ayanokouji-kun?” Horikita asked. “I thought our conversation was over. If you’re angry that I had him listen in, just say so.”

“I’m not particularly displeased. It’s just that I’d rather speak to you both face-to-face. I was wondering whether you would mind me adding another condition to the bet,” said Kushida.

“A condition?”

“If I beat your score, Horikita-san, I want Ayanokouji-kun to drop out, too.”

I’d thought that Kushida might propose this.

“No,” replied Horikita.

“I want to make everyone who knows about my past disappear. Even if you’re no longer here, Horikita-san, if Ayanokouji-kun remains, so will my troubles.”

“Maybe. But this is my gamble, so I can’t involve him.”

Before I could even answer, Horikita denied Kushida’s request, as if she had already come to a conclusion well ahead of time. That must’ve been why she hadn’t told me about the bet in the first place. She’d wanted to avoid doing something that would have made me an accomplice.

“Well, that’s too bad. I could’ve killed two birds with one stone.”

“So, you want me expelled too, huh?” I asked, incredibly disappointed.

“Ha ha ha! There’s no need to look so disappointed. It’s not your fault, Ayanokouji-kun. It’s just bad luck that you learned about my true nature.”

“There’s no problem if he doesn’t tell anyone, though,” said Horikita.

“If that were all it took, Horikita-san, you wouldn’t have challenged me to this bet.”

“Well, you’re vital to Class D, after all.”

Kushida certainly was very observant of other people. It was only natural that Horikita would want such talent on her side.

“You’ve changed. You wouldn’t have said that before.”

“If I’m always fighting with my peers, then I’ll never make it to the higher classes. I’ll be stuck in a vicious circle,” said Horikita.

Had the two of them ever talked this openly before? Yet they couldn’t see eye to eye. Such a tragic fate. If they hadn’t attended the same junior high, Kushida probably would have cooperated with Horikita. In that case, Kushida would’ve influenced the classmates Hirata and Karuizawa couldn’t reach, and Class D might have united much sooner.

“Can I join this wager? I bet that Horikita will win,” I said.

“Wait a minute,” said Horikita. “What are you saying, Ayanokouji-kun? This has nothing to do with you.”

“It started out that way. But now it does have something to do with me. Besides, I eavesdropped on your conversation. You can’t just ignore that.”

Horikita seemed as though she wanted to avoid taking on an even bigger responsibility, but I selfishly interpreted this as a convenient move. Even if Horikita won the bet and was temporarily free from Kushida’s attacks, Kushida could just focus her offensive on me instead. If I protected myself now, it would make things easier in the long run.

“I’d be happy to have you join,” said Kushida.

“But I also have a condition.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you to tell me the specifics of this junior high incident.” I was entering dangerous territory.

“That’s—”

I didn’t hold back, even if Kushida was visibly shaken. I’d be forcibly dragged into their bet. If I acted swiftly now, I could secure an advantage. “It’s my right to ask for this much. I don’t know any details, and yet you’re trying to get me expelled. You’re acting on the belief that Horikita knows about the incident, right? So, just explain it to us right now. As long as you beat Horikita on the test, the school will kick us both out, and you won’t have to worry.”

“I’m not interested in her past,” said Horikita.

“Well, I am. I can’t accept that Kushida’s threatening my whole life here on a selfish whim,” I replied, disregarding Horikita’s response.

“It’s true that you’re now involved, Ayanokouji-kun. I can’t deny that. If Horikita-san really hasn’t told you the details, I understand your feelings. But if I do tell you, there’ll be no turning back. Understand?” asked Kushida.

“Haven’t I already passed the point of no return? Are you saying you’ll spare me if I don’t know anything? Can you say for sure that you won’t treat me as your enemy?” I asked. Kushida had designated me her enemy, a target to be dealt with.

“No way.”

“In that case, tell me why it’s worth taking this gamble.”

Horikita probably wondered why I was going this far—why I would risk being expelled. Her eyes said as much, but she wouldn’t question anything in front of Kushida.

Sorry, but I can’t do what you want, Horikita. I finally have the chance to expose Kushida Kikyou’s past.

“Ayanokouji-kun, is there something that you’re the best at? Better than anyone else?” asked Kushida.

“I’m just an average person. What you’d call a jack of all trades, master of none. If I had to pick something, I guess I’m a little faster than average.”

“Then I wonder if you can understand what I’m feeling. Don’t you think that the best thing in the world is feeling valued in some special way? When you get the highest score on a test, or win first place in a race, everyone’s eyes are on you. You know those moments when people shower you with attention?” asked Kushida. “They’ll call you amazing, cool, cute, and so on.”

Of course I understood. People naturally desired the approval of others. Working hard enough to earn praise for accomplishments was fundamental to how human society functioned. It was perfectly legitimate.

“I think that I’m probably addicted to that feeling,” Kushida said. “More so than normal people. I can’t help wanting to show off. I can’t help wanting to stand out. I can’t help wanting to be praised. When I am, I truly feel how wonderful it is to be alive. But I know my own limits. No matter how hard I try, I won’t be number one in school or in sports—and coming second or third won’t satisfy my cravings. So, I thought I’d do something that no one else could—be nicer and kinder than everyone else.”

That was the root of Kushida’s kindness? It was better to be a genuinely kind, helpful person who made mistakes than someone two-faced who just bragged about being perfectly good. A kind but flawed individual was more honest than a saintly liar. What Kushida was doing wasn’t nearly as simple as she made it sound. Even if you wanted to be the kindest, gentlest soul, it didn’t automatically mean you would get along with everyone.

“Thanks to that, I became popular with both boys and girls. I took pleasure in being trusted and relied upon. Elementary school and junior high were really fun,” said Kushida.

“Isn’t it agonizing, though? Doing things that you don’t want to do? If it were me, I couldn’t take it. I think I’d break down,” said Horikita.

No wonder she’d ask that. Kushida had been doing things that others would consider impossible.

“Of course it’s agonizing. Day after day, I’m under so much stress I feel like I’m going to go bald. I’ve pulled my hair out and vomited from anxiety. But I can’t let anyone see that side of me. That’s why I continued to endure, and endure, and endure. But my heart couldn’t take it anymore,” said Kushida.

Clearly the stress had been insane. How had she kept this act up for so long?

“My blog saved me. It was the only place where I dumped out this hidden stress. I could tell it all my most painful secrets. Of course, I posted everything anonymously, you know? But I wrote the facts just as they were, and it made me so happy when I received encouragement from people I didn’t even know. Then, one day, a classmate discovered my blog. Even though I hadn’t named anyone, it was clear my posts were all based on real events. I’d badmouthed everyone so much that they were obviously going to hate me for it.”

“That’s how this incident started?”

“The next day, my posts were shared with the entire class. Everyone condemned me. I’d helped them so much, and yet they all turned on me. Selfish, right? The boy who’d told me that he liked me actually shoved me. It was understandable, though, since I’d posted that his romantic confession grossed me out and I wanted him to die. One girl I’d comforted after she was dumped even kicked my desk. I’d posted in detail about why she was dumped and made fun of her. Over thirty students decided I was their mortal enemy that day.”

She could have never won that fight to begin with. I could only see it ending with the class forcing Kushida out.

“So, how did you make it through? Violence? Or lies?” That was the mystery that Horikita and I still didn’t know the answer to.

“Neither. All I did was tell the truth. I revealed all my classmates’ secrets. Who hated whom, who thought whom was a disgusting creep. I exposed truths I hadn’t even written on my blog.”

We hadn’t anticipated this. Truth was a weapon that you could only obtain through trust. Horikita and I didn’t have that. Although truth might seem harmless, it was actually a powerful double-edged sword, only usable at the cost of more trust.

“At that point, my classmates stopped being angry at me and started hating each other. The boys got into fistfights, the girls pulled each other’s hair and shoved each other over. The entire classroom descended into complete chaos. It was honestly incredible.”

“So, that’s how it happened.”

“Because of everything I exposed, the class could no longer function. The school rebuked me, but my blog was anonymous, and all I technically did was tell my classmates the truth. They weren’t really sure how to punish me.” Kushida spoke indifferently, but every word she uttered carried weight. “I still don’t know that much about my fellow Class D students. However, I know enough to destroy a few people. That’s my only weapon.”

A threat. If we told anyone about her, we should prepare for the consequences. If Kushida felt it was necessary, she would tear a rift in Class D right after we’d finally started bringing everyone together. If that happened, the harmony we’d established would disappear.

“It was a mistake to use the internet to vent my feelings. Everything you put up there is saved forever. That’s why I stopped blogging. Now, I blow off steam by saying what’s on my mind out loud when I’m alone.”

Like the first time I’d seen that other side of her. She was probably spewing all the cruel insults she could muster.

“Do you want to remain as you are right now?” I asked.

“This is my reason for being. More than I love anything else in the world, I love everyone respecting and noticing me. When people trust me with their secrets, I feel joy that surpasses my wildest imaginings.”

Knowing the anxiety, suffering, embarrassment, and hopes that people held deep within their hearts was Kushida’s forbidden fruit.

“Boring, isn’t it? But to me, it’s everything.” Kushida’s smile disappeared. Now that she’d told us about her past, we became true enemies in her eyes. From this point onward, she wouldn’t show us the slightest compassion. “Don’t forget. If I score higher in math, both you and Ayanokouji-kun will drop out.”

“Yes,” said Horikita.

And that was that. Satisfied, Kushida left to return to her dorm.

I turned to Horikita. “Are you sure about this? Kushida’s involved with Ryuuen. She could get all of our questions and answers.”

“If you knew it was dangerous, why did you join? Because you believe I won’t lose?” Horikita countered.

“Well, yeah.” Truthfully, I went along with the bet because I had some ideas of my own.

“Even though Kushida might be able to help Ryuuen-kun, I really have to wonder whether it’ll come to that,” said Horikita.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?”

“Certainly, if she gets ahold of the test questions, victory will be within Kushida-san’s grasp. In which case, I would definitely have to drop out. But do you think that Ryuuen-kun really wants me to drop out?” she asked.

“It’s doubtful.”

Ryuuen wanted to entrap Horikita, but he wasn’t trying to get her kicked out of school. He hoped to see her brought low, and her expulsion would end those aspirations. Besides, would he really let Horikita go without finding out who was working with her in secret? Would he let her get expelled without exposing me first?

“But what if Kushida lies to get the questions from him? She might say that she wants to improve her personal score, and keep our bet’s details secret,” I said.

“Ryuuen-kun would see through something like that. If Kushida-san asked for the math answers, he’d want to know why,” said Horikita.

“You’re probably right. But this is dangerous.”

There were no guarantees. Kushida might successfully convince Ryuuen to help her. I hoped Horikita would consider that, but harping on it would be too harsh.

“There’ll always be danger, no matter the challenge at hand. It helps to have things you’re willing to put on the line.”

Horikita hadn’t expected me to actively take part in the bet. However, she was resolute in her conclusion. She’d made her offer sound more credible to Kushida by promising to keep her past a secret, swearing to drop out if she lost, and having the former student council president stand as a witness.

“There’s no turning back from this. We definitely need to win.”

“Of course.”

Horikita was making her biggest gamble yet.