Chapter 2: A Rule-less Exam

It was a Thursday, already past the midpoint of May.

Among the third-year high school students, some had begun studying at a pace far beyond what they had shown last year. Shimazaki, who I’d gone to the bookstore with the other day, was one of them.

But it was hardly surprising. This was the time when students began to seriously consider which university they wanted to attend and what field they wanted to pursue.

And studies were only the beginning. It would also be important to request university brochures and gather information for open campuses.

Normally, students enrolled at this school had very limited chances to go outside the premises, but during summer break, third-years were permitted to attend open campuses, provided they submitted the proper applications.

There, they could sit in on mock lectures, receive admissions guidance, talk one-on-one with advisors, and participate in trial experiences such as bootcamps.

Feeling the atmosphere of the place firsthand and sensing whether it’s a good fit, things no pamphlet or website could ever fully communicate, was an essential part of the process.

And this wasn’t limited to just those aiming for university.

Students hoping to join the workforce had their own set of preparations to make: company orientation sessions, workplace tours, internships, and more.

As summer approached, the pressure to prepare for life after graduation began to mount from every possible angle.

The majority of students typically had to decide between higher education and entering the workforce at this juncture, though exceptions were always present.

Some already had their futures decided for them due to various other reasons, such as taking over a family business, or to become part-time workers by choice.

Others simply couldn’t decide yet, leaving their future up in the air until the very last moment.

But regardless of the path, one thing was certain: things have become overwhelmingly busier compared to the last two years. As the homeroom droned on, I heard a soft voice from behind.

“Getting used to the class yet?”

It was Morishita, her voice casual but probing.

“More or less,” I replied, not turning around.

“More or less, huh? If you’re just acting tough, it’s okay to be honest, you know?”

“I’m not acting tough.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps you should treat me like a priest and confess to what weighs down your soul.”

2

I wasn't putting on a brave face at all, but I wonder why she was so concerned.

“Could it be that you're... worried about me?”

Caught off guard, I turned slightly to look at her. Maybe that sudden question was just her own awkward way of showing concern.

“Exactly,” she said with a smirk. “I was planning to laugh hysterically if you told me you hadn’t fit in.”

1

“That's not 'exactly' at all. You don’t seem even a slightest bit worried.”

Apparently, she just wanted to make fun of me.

I regretted even turning around to look.

“Eh? did you want me to be worried about you?” she teased.

“Not at all.”

I meant it sincerely, but Morishita didn’t believe me, on the contrary, her suspicion only deepened.

“Oh dear, putting on such a brave face. This is exactly why people with names that start with 'A', end with 'Ka', and are 10 characters long in hiragana are hopeless. The statistics totally make sense.”

That’s… a statistical sample size of one. How oddly specific could you get?

Since it's homeroom, it's probably best not to engage with her any further.

“Did you just think it's best not to engage with me right now?”

2

“...I won't deny it.”

2

I decided to ignore the student behind me and faced forward again.

“—Starting from tomorrow, a new Exam will begin,” Mashima-sensei announced just as homeroom was about to end.

A wave of mild confusion spread across the room.

The suddenness of 'starting tomorrow,' combined with homeroom being only a minute or two from dismissal, created an odd timing.

Despite the school’s usual procedure, something about how today’s announcement was brought up felt off.

Normally, things like Special Exams, which tend to require lengthy explanations, are introduced with ample time left in the homeroom.

Does he intend to continue talking even after we've entered the break time?

No, in the first place... Was the way Mashima-sensei just phrased that a coincidence?

While a certain phrasing caught my attention, I decided to wait for him to continue.

“The rewards are as follows,” Mashima-sensei began. “The class that ranks 1st will receive +50 class points, 2nd place will receive +20, 3rd place will have no change, and the 4th placing class will end up losing 25 respectively. The announcement of the details, including how the rewards will be handled in an unlikely event of a tie, will be in one week from now. Until then, strive to act in a manner befitting a student. Furthermore, this time, we’ll not be accepting any questions whatsoever.”

Without displaying any rules or rewards on the monitor, he finished his explanation with just plain words.

With a final "That's all,” the bell rang.

And just like that, without offering any further clarification, Mashima-sensei walked out of the room.

Though brief, the announcement left a lasting impression with several points of concern.

Phrases that could be taken two ways… that remark about ‘student-like behavior’… and then—

The class fell silent for a moment, until Hashimoto scraped back his chair and rose.

“This school seems to like pushing one troublesome thing after another on us. So, what's the plan, leader? Do we start the discussion right away?”

As if to ensure the discussion would proceed smoothly, Hashimoto said that and looked at me as he turned around.

“If possible, I’d like to begin by hearing everyone else’s thoughts. I’ll organize the information and share my own perspective later.”

When I addressed the class, Hashimoto let out a small laugh.

“Oops, my bad, didn't mean to laugh in a weird way. It's just, this feels like the total opposite of when Sakayanagi was our leader. She often made decisions on her own without asking anyone for their input, you see.”

Sakayanagi preferred to reflect alone on the essence of every affair.

I suppose in some ways, I’m no different.

3

But right now, I’m in the midst of gathering intel from the class. I want to pay attention to what kind of remarks others will make during the discussion.

For a brief moment, the room was wrapped in silence, until Sanada decided to speak up.

“The teacher not touching on the contents of the exam at all is quite natural, but this time it was different. The only things revealed were the rewards and that it starts in a week from now—”

As we mulled over Mashima-sensei’s cryptic words, Tamiya raised her hand as if to follow up.

Barely five seconds into the discussion, just a few words were enough to set things in motion.

“Wait. I thought the exam period is the upcoming week,” she said.

Despite the limited amount of information received, it was quickly evident that our interpretations were already diverging.

“I agree with Tamiya. I took it as the exam period starts tomorrow, and the results will be announced a week later”

In agreement, the one to voice her thoughts was Shimizu, who joined the discussion without hesitation.

“Really? Didn’t Mashima-sensei say the details would be revealed in a week? Doesn’t that mean this coming week is the preparation period?” she argued, offering a calm but contrasting view.

Soon after, Motodoi raised her hand and countered Shimizu’s reasoning with a thoughtful perspective.

The two phrases in Mashima-sensei’s earlier statements: ‘Starting from tomorrow, a new Exam will begin’ and 'Announcement of details will be in one week’, both seemed relevant to the timeline, yet each gave a different impression.

If you take only the former at face value, the exam starts tomorrow.

Conversely, if you take only the latter at face value, the details will be given in one week, and the exam will then be held.

It was phrased in a way that interpretations could subtly differ depending on the listener.

“I see, it's true that Mashima-sensei’s words could be interpreted in either ways.” Sanada took charge smoothly. “Well then, let’s first take a quick poll. Who believes this coming week is the preparation phase, with the special exam happening after one week?”

Nineteen hands shot up, more than half the class.

“And now, who thinks the exam starts tomorrow, with the announcement of details and results to follow a week later?”

Only twelve students raised their hands this time.

Those who didn’t raise their hands for either option likely couldn’t make a decision or simply didn’t want to commit to a stance.

1

Since this wasn't something that could be resolved by a majority vote, Sanada didn't pursue it further.

Shimazaki then casually raised his hand, he was among those who believed that the upcoming week was meant as preparation time for the exam.

“What seems clear right now,” he began, “is that the rules aren’t going to be overly complex. The fact that they haven’t bothered to explain anything backs that up. And the potential reward fluctuations don’t seem major either. Since the school will be overseeing the whole thing, we're probably going to compete in a visible, straightforward manner, maybe even just based on test scores. The mention of 'student-like behavior' also led me to believe he might be referring to studying, the primary duty of a student.”

It was evident that Shimazaki had been listening closely to Mashima-sensei. He’d picked up on that particular phrase “student-like behavior”, and fixated on it as the key.

“Another test? Right after the last one?” Hashimoto grumbled, clearly skeptical. He was still recovering from the recent 'Whole-Class and Minority Comprehensive Academic Test' a more rule-heavy exam. The idea of jumping straight into another written exam left him doubtful.

Shimazaki, however, wasn’t imagining some elaborate challenge, rather just a plain test weighted on the basis of average or total class scores. Still, Hashimoto’s concern was valid. Would they really hit students with two back-to-back written tests?

“It does feel strange when you think about it that way,” Shimazaki admitted, “but on the other hand, it seems totally plausible, doesn't it? If you interpret it as studying isn't something you do because you're told to, but something you do properly without someone needing to tell you, then the lack of rules is understandable. The possibility of competing with a pop quiz…... yeah, that might be it.”

Tsukaji, a female student listening next to Shimazaki nodded quietly, seemingly in agreement with the idea.

If a test were to be suddenly held in a week, that was certainly a strong possibility.

However, the expression 'pop quiz' also contains a contradiction. After all, the whole point of a pop quiz is that it comes without warning. If they’d already been told that some kind of test was coming, the element of surprise, and therefore the meaning, would be lost.

Even so, that doesn’t mean a written test is off the table, and that's what makes it complicated. With no details on what subject or how difficult it might be, students are forced to choose: cast a wide net in their studying, or gamble on a narrow focus. They must weigh their options and prioritize subjects themselves. In such a setup, sheer academic ability may not be the only deciding factor. If someone makes the right call, even a class like Ryuen’s, which is usually seen as academically weak, could stand a chance of winning by luck and insight alone.

Although opinions in the room were clearly split into two camps, no one was trying to stubbornly push their viewpoint onto others.

What united them was the simple desire to win. That shared goal drove them to contribute ideas freely and gather materials to build a path forward, so no one would walk away with regrets.

At this point, it was impossible to determine for certain which direction was correct, so the discussion continued.

Watching them genuinely try to decipher what little Mashima-sensei had said, with a forward-looking attitude doing their best to stay positive, was something worth admiring.

This rule-less exam, for all its ambiguity, undoubtedly carries a deliberate purpose: to test just how long one can sustain a sense of tension.

People can brace themselves and be on high alert against a danger they can see. But chasing after a vague, abstract goal suspended in uncertainty is a different matter entirely. Sustaining tension in such a fog for prolonged time is not an easy feat.

In addition to not knowing whether the test would span a week or take place a week later, even its contents remained a complete mystery.

Thus, the students were compelled to establish "provisional" goals, temporary targets to keep moving, to avoid stagnation. The very discussion they were having was their way of crafting a compass in this fog, a signpost to keep progressing. Just engaging in this conversation was, in itself, a valuable chance for growth.

“I get the point,” said Shimazaki, his voice cutting through the lingering indecision. “But preparing for this week and preparing for next week are entirely different strategies. We should make a decisive call and choose a path.”

With recess half over, Shimazaki, unwilling to let the discussion stall any longer, proposed we decide on a clear policy.

“What do you think, Ayanokoji? Isn’t it time you gave us your answer?”

Recognizing that the moment called for leadership, Shimazaki turned to me, not just personally, but on behalf of the entire class.

“My opinion is mostly the same as what's been brought up. The fact that the school deliberately didn't explain the rules this time means… it must be something that can be understood and established without an explanation. Also, considering the relatively short span of one week, written or physical exam, the extensions of our usual class activities, are of course valid candidates.”

“So, you're saying you, like me, see the special exam as taking place one week from now?”

“No, I’m just not ruling out any possibility. It's entirely conceivable that the exam will begin unofficially tomorrow. For example, the exam might be to present the conclusion we've drawn through this discussion and debate.”

I answered while retracing the flow of everyone’s thoughts, and blending my own insight along the way.

“…So, what we prepared for, that’s what the school plans to check after a week?”

“Yes. Maybe one class focused on studying, thinking it would be a written test. Another might’ve trained physically, expecting something athletic. Some might’ve taken a balanced approach, composite of both. Any of those could become the basis for evaluation.”

“I see...?”

Even so, it's unlikely that any student was confident enough to stamp their seal of approval on it.

The important thing was to expand the view and acknowledge that, while limited, there were still many possibilities.

“Many ideas were brought up,” I continued, “but one I feel is highly probable that, starting tomorrow, what’s really being evaluated is the behavior in our daily lifestyle”

In everyday life, there are all kinds of themed campaigns, such as Anti-Delinquency Week, Disaster Prevention Week, Reading Week, Greeting Campaign Month, Traffic Safety Month, Compassion Month. If you tried, you could list many more.

“Lifestyle...? That's something I didn’t think of…”

Sanada, who had remained silent for most of the discussion, murmured the words with a hint of surprise, his hand resting on his chin.

He seemed puzzled by the idea that this could be a likely outcome.

“So you’re saying it’s something similar to what happened back in our first year?”

“That's right. Back then, it lasted a month, but it wasn’t even announced as a test beforehand. As a result, the former Class D that I was in suffered a major defeat, losing all of its class points—.”

“But this time,” I continued, “it’s like the school is assuming all four classes have caught on. And now it’s testing whether we can lead a clean, proper school life based on that awareness. Even if the ‘Lifestyle behavior’ is unrelated to this exam, just keeping this in the back of our minds has great significance.”

“I see. ‘Lifestyle behavior’ refers to everyday actions that aren't bound by specific rules. It's a matter of course that we should take classes seriously, avoid being late or absent as much as possible, and be prudent in our actions before and after school.”

Since it didn’t require any extra effort or time, there's no harm in including it as a candidate strategy.

“Still, if every class starts displaying careful behavior, then the bar for evaluation will get just as much stricter. We'll be required to exhibit exemplary behavior not just when we're on campus, but also outside, all the way to Keyaki Mall and the school commute routes.”

The difference between victory and defeat might come down to a truly small margin.

Walking past a single piece of litter without picking it up. Even something like that could lead to a one-point deduction and, consequently, defeat.

“I was kind of thinking the test might involve our personal lives too.” said Nishikawa, her voice slightly reserved. “That's how I interpreted sensei’s words about striving to act in a manner befitting a student.”

Her words seemed to echo a shared sentiment. A few students, who had ideas but hadn’t voiced them, nodded in agreement.

Yet, this alone wasn’t enough to be conclusive. There were still too many missing pieces.

Notably, no one brought up the words of Mashima-sensei. He never said “Special exam”, only “Exam.” And it wasn’t the first time.

During the month-long lifestyle behavior observation after enrollment, they never officially called it a special exam either. Chabashira-sensei too had a history of omitting that word during past events like first-year sports festival.

However, the possibility that it was just an omission of a word couldn’t be dismissed. Which is why I figured it wouldn’t hurt to gather more information first.

“There's no need to be certain. The assumption that some kind of test might be coming by the end of this week still stands, spending this time building on that premise is also something we need to consider. Let’s just add this idea to our plans.”

Shimazaki also accepted the possibility of lifestyle behavior being a part of the exam without denying it.

“If it were something that took up time, we'd have to prioritize, but our private lives are inseparable from us. It doesn't require a great deal of unique effort on its own, I can get behind that.”

The idea didn't pose any real drawback even if the interpretations were split in two. And since it was something everyone could engage in on equal footing, the room naturally settled into quiet consensus, with each person nodding in agreement.

It was lunchtime on the day the rule-less exam had been announced.

“Ayanokoji-kun. Do you mind sparing a moment?”

Just as I slid back my chair to stand, Shiraishi, seated beside me, softly called out.

“I don’t mind, what is it?”

2

“If it's alright, would you like to have lunch with me in the cafeteria today?”

An unexpected invitation from my neighbor.

Apparently, Yoshida sitting a little farther away, had been listening in. He suddenly spun around and approached us with a light jog.

“Hey, Ayanokoji! Let’s grab lunch together, yeah?”

8

He was clearly pretending to be the one inviting me, a lie so transparent it was almost admirable.

Still, from the fire in his eyes, I could tell he was giving it his all, like an actor gunning for a Best Supporting Role award.

3

Shiraishi narrowed her eyes and gazed fondly at the easy-to-read Yoshida.

In this situation, there was probably only one best course of action I could take.

“It's quite a coincidence for invitations to overlap like this. You don’t mind if Yoshida joins us too, right?”

If this had been something more serious like a personal consultation or exam-related topic I’d have had to steer others away. So, I decided to check just in case.

“Of course, it’s no problem. I wasn’t planning to bring up anything heavy. In fact, would it be alright if I invited Nishikawa too? I figured it might be more fun with a few more people.”

1

Realizing it was nothing more than a casual lunch invitation, I had no reason to refuse.

“Yoshida, that okay with you?”

“What, Shiraishi and the others are coming too? Well... I guess that’s fine.”

This, too, was a blatantly obvious act. He couldn't quite hide his happiness. In fact, he was trying so hard to put on a straight face which only made his grin leak out even more. He’s painfully obvious.

4

Such an easy-to-read guy, Yoshida, must be irresistibly amusing (or perhaps cute?) to Shiraishi. She kept watching him with a gentle warm smile.

“Morishita-san, would you like to come too?” she asked, ever polite.

1

As Nishikawa also stepped in, a small circle began to form. Just then, Shiraishi turned her gaze behind me.

“I'm all good, I'm o-cluck-ay.”

Morishita replied in a deliberately strange and playful tone, clearly turning down the offer in her quirky way.

1

It was just after the exam announcement when the lunch invitation happened.

Hashimoto glanced over at me briefly, but hearing it was just a regular meal, he had no intention of joining the group. He stood alone and strode down the hallway, presumably deciding to make good use of the time by gathering information or scouting around on his own.

Soon after, Morishita quietly slipped out of the classroom too.

“Looks like I got turned down,” Shiraishi murmured.

“Don't worry about Morishita or anything. Come on, let's go.”

Yoshida said that to Shiraishi, and turned his eyes towards the classroom exit.

“Hold on. There’s someone else I want to invite. Mind if I ask them too?”

“Someone else? Ah, Hashimoto?”

“No, he’s already left.”

“Oh, is that so? He's usually the one to talk to you, though. Then who is it?”

I turned my gaze toward the back of a certain student still seated at their desk.

The three of them followed my gaze, understood who I meant, and blinked in surprise.

“You're serious?”

“Dead serious,” I affirmed.

1

After showing a stern face, Yoshida glanced at Shiraishi and the others.

“You okay with this Shiraishi? Things could get... complicated if we include that person,” he warned quietly.”

Concerned that the gathering might not turn into an enjoyable meal, Yoshida hesitated and left the decision up to the others.

“Hehe, doesn’t it sound interesting? I’m all for it,” Shiraishi said with a cheerful smile.

Yoshida had secretly hoped they’d turn down the idea, but instead, Shiraishi welcomed it with her smiling permission. He looked a little thrown off by her unexpected support, but Nishikawa too chimed in with great enthusiasm without missing a beat.

“Sounds like fun. I’m in too.”

“Geez… girls are really fearless when it comes to stuff like this…” Yoshida muttered, though perhaps the real reason for their enthusiasm was the simple joy of watching him squirm.

As I watched the amused smiles on Shiraishi and Nishikawa’s faces, I couldn’t help but think so.

Pleased by their approval, I wasn’t about to let the chance slip.

With a nod of thanks, I turned and began walking toward the seat of the person in question— Kito.

5

The five of us made our way to the cafeteria, each purchasing a meal ticket from the vending machines and placing our orders. With trays in hand, we found an empty corner seat in the back and sat down.

To my right was Yoshida, and to my left was Kito. Across from me sat Shiraishi. And in front of Yoshida was Nishikawa.

4

I had actually intended to have Yoshida and Shiraishi sit facing each other. Whether it was out of reservation or shyness, but he subtly avoided that arrangement.

He probably thought he was acting natural, but Shiraishi and Nishikawa seemed to pick up on it. Especially Nishikawa, who didn’t even try to hide her amused grin.

“Ugh... It's Ayanokoji…”

I heard a voice nearby, turning my gaze, I saw Ike and Hondou, trays in hand, eyeing our direction. They were likely planning to sit nearby, but upon noticing me, they abruptly veered away.

2

“It seems you've become quite an object of dislike, Ayanokoji-kun.” Nishikawa quipped.

“Well, that’s hardly surprising. From their perspective he's a complete traitor, after all.”

That's right. If I had been the one avoiding them, it would’ve been absurdly presumptuous. But them avoiding me was a normal reaction. Acting friendly with me now would only invite suspicion.

“The special exam’s coming up. Probably don’t want to risk leaking anything,” Nishikawa added.

“That's probably it.”

Listening to the exchange between Nishikawa and Yoshida, I entertained a similar thought.

Honestly, I want them to have at least that much of a defensive mindset, and if I were to hope for more, I’d prefer if they were cunning enough to sit near their enemies just to steal intel.

If Ike and the others just sat nearby, the five of us here would be unable to make any careless remarks, that would also act as a subtle form of harassment against me.

Yet from Ike and Hondo, there wasn’t so much as a whiff of such intent, it seemed they were just about to sit near us by chance.

Without even turning back, the two of them seemed to settle into seats farther away.

“Ah, right, right— I meant to bring this up earlier,” Yoshida said suddenly, eager to shift the mood. “Have you seen this month’s OAA rankings yet?”

We’d only just passed by some of my old classmates when Yoshida, as if skimming over the moment, steered the conversation elsewhere, drifting the question to everyone seated around the table.

“I haven’t yet,” replied Shiraishi. “Was there something unusual?”

Nishikawa and I shook our heads in sync. Kito didn’t even bother to react.

After glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Yoshida smirked and casually pointed a thumb at me.

“This guy’s…. Ayanokoji’s OAA.”

He then pulled out his phone and showed the screen to Nishikawa and Shiraishi, before turning it toward us.

Apparently, this was my OAA, displaying the latest school evaluation.

“Is there something special about it?” I asked.

1

“Don’t 'is there something' me,” Yoshida shot back.“ Just look at the overall score B+. That’s top-tier among all third-years. It proves that everything from the class transfer, and the previous special exam, had a major influence on your academic ability, critical thinking, and social contribution scores.”

1

It’s true that I haven't been intentionally holding back since transferring to Class C.

I haven't slacked on written exams, and I've been participating as usual in PE and other assigned tasks. Compared to my first and second years, it was probably inevitable that my scores would improve.

Of course, transferring classes could’ve hurt my social contribution score, depending on how the school viewed it. But I used a legitimate, school-approved process. It was all within the rules. So it probably didn’t impact my evaluation too much positively or negatively.

“And now, even if it’s just temporary, you’re the leader of Class C. Damn, man… you’re seriously amazing,” Yoshida said, a genuine note of admiration in his voice.

“You seem awfully happy, Yosshi. Ayanokoji-kun might be amazing, but in the end, aren't those someone else's grades? To think you can be that happy over grades that aren't your own.” Nishikawa chimed in with a teasing smile.

Yoshida puffed up, throwing his hands as he spoke.

“Of course I’m hyped, he’s one of us now. You cheer on national baseball and soccer players even if they’ve got nothing to do with you, right? It’s that same feeling of camaraderie. That home run the other day, or that epic comeback goal? Gave me chills, man. The whole country was partying.”

4

Yoshida argued passionately, but his passion didn't seem to get through to Nishikawa.

“Really? I don’t get it. I don’t like sweaty, smelly sports like that,” she said, dismissing his excitement without hesitation. Yoshida winced and quickly turned to Shiraishi.

“S-Shiraishi? You get what I mean, right?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling gently. “I’m one of those cheering for Ayanokoji-kun too. I’m truly happy we were able to welcome someone so exceptional to our class.”

“Right!? I knew I wasn’t the only one!”

“I mean, I’m more jealous than happy,” Nishikawa chimed in, rolling her eyes. “Those are grades anyone would envy.”

1

“You're just narrow-minded, Nishikawa.”

“Are you claiming you're seeing things as they really are? Besides, blind faith strikes me as a perilous mindset. The whole 'go with the flow' mentality or 'a red light isn't scary if everyone crosses together' doesn’t sit well with me. Sadly, I refuse to unconditionally cheer for those so-called heroes. I’m the kind who grows tired of one-sided media coverage.”

2

As Yoshida’s enthusiasm clashed with Nishikawa’s cynicism, her unwavering bluntness painted her stance clear.

“You really do have a great personality,” he said, his sarcasm thick in the air.

“Thanks.”

Nishikawa narrowed her eyes and smiled, unfazed by Yoshida’s sarcasm.

“What about you, Kito-kun?” Shiraishi turned to the boy who’d silently followed them to the cafeteria. “What do you think of Ayanokoji-kun’s OAA?”

Though seated among us, Kito hadn’t spoken a word. His eyes remained fixed on his curry rice, unmoving.

2

Would he praise it like Yoshida and Shiraishi? Or react with the same skepticism as Nishikawa?

By this school's standards, it's still easy for me to aim higher, which is precisely why I want to grasp the effect my superficial scores have on the class dynamics in as much detail as possible.

If too many students like Nishikawa harbored resentment, I might need to reconsider my approach.

2

“Pointless,” Yoshida scoffed. “No use asking. He’ll just say he’s not interested.”

“I have no interest in others’ OAA scores,” Kito replied quietly, but with a calm conviction that left no room for doubt.

“Told you,” Yoshida said with a shrug.

“But—”

Suddenly, Kito’s sharp gaze cut across the table, as if piercing right through me.

“…What I am interested in is why someone with that much talent would keep it hidden for two years. And more importantly… why you’ve decided to reveal it now.”

OAA was first implemented at the beginning of our second year, around the time Nagumo took over as student council president.

Back then, my scores were as average as they could get.

“Come to think of it, what was Ayanokoji's old OAA score like? I know I looked through all the classes' at one point, but I’ve no memory of it now.”

“I don't remember either~. My impression of Ayanokoji-kun was super faint. How about you, Asuka?”

1

“Hmm... I’m afraid I don’t recall anything either.”

Apparently, none of the three had any recollection of what my OAA data used to look like. I stayed silent and quietly pulled the numbers from memory:

Undeniably, it was the very definition of average, a set of scores with no traits worth noting, no achievements to catch the eye. Just another unremarkable student lost in the crowd.

That’s precisely why, when compared to a year ago, my growth is undeniably among the top in the entire grade. It's for no other reason than that I was deliberately holding back, so it's natural for others to find my current growth unusual.

However, it's certainly not something to be proud of.

I won't touch on it here since it involves another class, and one I used to belong to at that, but in terms of pure improvement, Sudo is the one with an OAA to be proud of.

1

“I'm sure they were normal grades, but that's precisely why I find your current OAA is so compelling. If you had demonstrated your potential from the very start, Ayanokoji-kun, I’m certain Horikita-san's Class A would have earned far more class points and been in a much higher position by now. Sorry to get off-topic, but… why did you start getting serious all of a sudden?”

Kito, seemingly handing the rest of the conversation over to Shiraishi, scooped up a mouthful of curry and rice with a large spoon and shoveled it into his mouth.

“I don’t like standing out,” I said simply. “Back then, I had no interest in graduating from Class A, so I never had any intention of getting too involved in the class’s success or failure.”

“So what changed? Before third year? Or after?” Nishikawa tilted her head, eyes sharp. “If you’re being honest, that’s a huge change. That is if you’re being honest.”

Just like she did with Yoshida, she greeted my words with visible skepticism.

“I am aware that you may not believe me, but it’s the truth.”

Nishikawa leaned in carrying the same skeptical look.

“Well then tell me, what made someone like you, who didn’t like standing out and couldn’t care less about playing seriously, suddenly decide to go all in?”

“I believe I've explained this already, so it's a bit late to bring it up now. A major factor was Hashimoto asking me for help, saying they couldn't win anymore now that Sakayanagi was gone. I figured if I could put my abilities to use, then I might as well take on the role of class leader.”

Here, I took a moment to re-emphasize that the transfer was Hashimoto's accomplishment.

Hashimoto, after all, was still viewed with suspicion and largely shunned by the class.

“Hmm… Still doesn’t quite add up, don’t you think, Asuka?” Nishikawa said, frowning.

Shiraishi paused to think before nodding slowly. “Even if your intention was to help… I doubt that alone would justify moving to a lower class. If you’d stayed in Class A, you could’ve led them instead, and things might have gone even smoother.”

“Exactly. There was no real need to go out of your way to take such a big risk and ‘betray’ your class, right~?” Nishikawa added.

1

“Hey, hold on, go easy on him,” Yoshida interjected. “What if he loses motivation because of all this?”

“If a little pushback is enough to make him quit, then maybe he wasn’t that serious to begin with,” Nishikawa said with a chuckle, casually brushing aside Yoshida’s attempt to defend me.

“Well... but still…” Yoshida seemed unsure, trailing off, but I cut in.

“It's not that simple. Class A had established Horikita as its leader, and her position was solid. If I suddenly stepped forward within that situation, it would have only created chaos. Besides, if I were to be a leader seriously, there would be no point unless I did something like rebuilding a class from the bottom ranks.”

“......So you're saying you want to climb to Class A with your own two hands, even if it's a struggle?”

When I nodded in response Yoshida returned it, nodding twice, maybe three times, like he was genuinely impressed.

“That kind of spirit... I respect it.”

“Or maybe you’re just a huge masochist,” Nishikawa chimed in, grinning. “I mean, seriously? You for real?”

Still laughing, Nishikawa relentlessly kept voicing her lingering doubts. It was unlikely her suspicions would be cleared here, but it would probably be best to keep answering.

However, before I could say anything, Yoshida’s expression tightened and he spoke up.

“Maybe not all of it, but I think what he's saying is, to some extent, true.”

“The words of Ayanokoji-kun's follower sound pretty light, don't they?”

“Who are you calling a follower!?”

“Okay then, how about 'Hashimoto-kun Number Two'?”

2

“Absolutely not. Anything but that.”

A short, fast rally of words took place. Nishikawa spun her chopsticks playfully in her fingers, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.

“Then why would you say it’s true?” Nishikawa asked sharply.

Yoshida shrugged, keeping his cool.

“You can tell just by watching. I mean, he’s as much of a weirdo as Morishita, no offense.”

2

I appreciate him defending me, but being put in the same category as Morishita is unwelcoming.

3

“You've managed to gain so much of Yosshi's trust in the short time I haven't been looking~” Nishikawa said, feigning surprise.

1

“Oh, Nishikawa-san. I also trust Ayanokoji-kun a great deal, you know?”

Shiraishi chimed in, flashing a mysterious smile, just like the one Yoshida had mentioned.

“Why, why? Because he got results in the special exam? Or... is it a personal preference?”

2

Nishikawa gave what could be called her biggest suggestive smile of the day as she turned to Yoshida..

“P-Personal preference... what's that supposed to mean?”

Yoshida, who took the bait as expected, pressed Nishikawa as he asked back.

“You know what I mean~” Nishikawa teased. “You want Asuka to look at you like that, don’t you, Yosshi?”

1

“Well... I mean... n-no way, that's not it at all!”

I remembered the interaction I had with Shimazaki the other day. He seemed to believe the whole “100-Man Slayer” thing was just a rumor. But still, that was only his opinion.

4

In fact, he had warned afterward not to speak of his denial to anyone.

And true to his nature, Yoshida wouldn’t so much as hint at it. If anything, he spoke and acted like the rumor was gospel.

Or perhaps, while wanting to deny it, he still wasn't completely convinced by Shimazaki's words.

“I'm still holding on to the theory that he's a spy sent by Horikita-san, you know.” Nishikawa teased, a grin curling her lips.

Her words, as usual, lacked any restraint. I noticed Yoshida’s expression tighten again. He was clearly not taking it well.

“Cut it out, Nishikawa,” he warned sharply.

“Why?” she shrugged, feigning innocence. “You want me to trust him completely like you, Yosshi? I’m not that easy to win over, you know.”

“Complete trust?” Yoshida scoffed. “Don’t twist my words. There’s no such bond between Class C and Ayanokoji yet. Right now, we’re still probing each other’s intentions. That’s all.”

1

“Hmm? And yet, you no longer doubt Ayanokoji-kun's transfer or his future contributions anymore, do you?”

“That's not it.” Yoshida shot back. “I'm trying to start by putting my trust in him. He earned at least that much with how he handled the first special exam. Or would you rather keep doubting him forever? Saying ‘Is he really one of us?’ out loud again and again? You think that’s helpful?”

1

Even as Nishikawa laughed playfully, Yoshida's irritation boiled over, his voice rising with conviction. He didn’t bother hiding his frustration anymore.

“For someone like Yosshi… that was unusually cool...”

Nishikawa kept her head turned toward Yoshida, but her eyes flicked toward Shiraishi for a moment.

4

“Yeah... maybe you’re right,” she said softly. “It’s not something I can do right away, but... I guess it’d be nice if I could start trusting you soon, Ayanokoji-kun.”

That was a shift. Up until now, she’d thrown suspicion at me without a hint of restraint, but just then, it was like she’d taken a small step back.

“I understand both of your feelings very well. So, how about we take this opportunity to dig a little deeper into each other? Visible results like the outcome of a special exam are important, but we can't truly know someone without knowing their private lives.” Clasping her hands together, Shiraishi made such a proposal.

1

“That might be a good idea,” Nishikawa nodded. “Honestly, I still don’t really know what kind of person Ayanokoji-kun is.”

1

Maybe it was just because it came from Shiraishi, but for once, Nishikawa readily agreed.

2

“Well, since we’re already having lunch together,” Shiraishi smiled, “why don’t we reintroduce ourselves properly?”

Even the irritated Yoshida had no choice but to accept Shiraishi's proposal... No... his expression was already softening, the corners of his eyes were already drooping with boyish joy.

“Then, I'll start. On weekdays, if I’m alone, I usually head straight back to the dorm. If Nishikawa-san or some other friends invite me, I might stop by Keyaki Mall, but even then it’s only once or twice a week.”

Most students, unless they’re strapped for points, tend to make a detour through Keyaki Mall on their way back. It’s the only place on campus that really allows them to enjoy every part of their daily life, from shopping to blowing off some steam.

“Asuka often turns me down, even when I invite her,” Nishikawa said with a faint hint of complaint.

"I'm sorry. I tend to prefer spending time alone. However, for that very reason, on my days off, I make a point of going out and increasing my opportunities to interact with people. Even then, I usually take it easy in the morning and am more active in the afternoon. I often go to cafes or general stores."

Shiraishi revealed more than I expected, offering a detailed picture of her daily life, clearly trying to bridge the distance between us.

Nishikawa picked up from there.

“Okay, I’m next! I’m usually at Keyaki Mall. Sometimes on my own, sometimes with friends like Takanashi-san or Tsukaji-san.” She launched into her story cheerfully, naming names, sharing conversations, and recounting outings with such vivid detail that I almost felt like I’d tagged along.

“Alright, alright. We get it, we get it, that’s more than enough.”

Yoshida, who had been listening quietly for a while, seemed to have reached his limit when it went on for several minutes, and he forcibly cut in to stop her.

Nishikawa still looked like she had more to say, but she reluctantly passed the baton to me.

“Honestly, I don't think I'm that different from other students. If I had to point out a difference, it would be that recently, I sometimes show up at the gym whenever I have some time to spare, regardless of whether it's a weekday or a day off.”

Nishikawa looked at me like she’d just discovered a new species.

“The gym on the second floor? There were actually students who went there?”

“Anyone from our class go there?”

“Hmm... probably not,” Yoshida added, scratching his head.

Apparently, no one from our group could think of a single classmate who goes. I don’t exactly go regularly myself, but I can’t recall seeing any Class C students around either.

“It might not be very popular, that's true, but there should be about 30 people from the entire school using it. And with the new first-years coming in, some new students will probably join from now on.” I said.

Besides, school staff are allowed to use the gym too. Factoring in adults, the total membership probably sits somewhere between forty and fifty.

Judging by the store's floor space and membership fees, if the rent is reasonable, it would undoubtedly operate at a loss, but it's likely able to cover the gap because the school provides some kind of generous subsidies.

“Anyone wanna join the gym?”

4

“Whoa, you're bad at this, Ayanokoji…”

“Seriously, inviting people like that outta nowhere? Zero sense of timing~” Nishikawa quipped with a teasing grin.

Yoshida and Nishikawa looked at me, voicing similar impressions at almost the same time.

Just then, Kito stood up abruptly, scraping his chair back with a bit too much force. He must’ve finished his curry, as he picked up his tray without a word.

“......I'm going back to the classroom.”

he muttered, then left the group without waiting for a response.

“In the end, he barely participated in the conversation at all... Hey, why did he even agree to eat with us?”

“Beats me,” Nishikawa said with a shrug. “Kito-kun’s always hard to read and his face is scary too.”

1

I wouldn’t go as far as blaming Nishikawa for being blunt, but that last part was definitely unnecessary.

In any case, bridging the gap with Kito isn’t going to be easy.

After he left, I continued eating in silence, thinking about what to do after school.

I had been considering dropping by the library soon, but unfortunately, today was the day an exam was announced.

There’s still not enough information to narrow down the rules, so I wanted to devote my after-school time on that.

Tomorrow then, I’ll make time for the library.

That way I'll have more time to catch up with Hiyori properly.

9