Chapter 5: Yamamura's Courage

It was already Monday, the fourth day since the exam announcement, with the weekend in between, the after-school time had arrived once again.

I had lost count of how many times I had hesitated, yet each day now seemed to pass incredibly quickly.

Outside the window, the sky was still bright, but it wouldn’t be long before it bathed in the warm hues of sunset.

Maybe this was what people referred to as sentimental. Not a bad feeling at all.

“Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. Let me have a word with you.” As soon as Mashima-sensei left the classroom, that downer voice flew from the seat behind me, pulling me back to reality.

Yes, just like having the hair on the back of my head pulled forcefully.

Tug, tug...

Tug, tug...

Not just like that, I was actually being tugged with quite some strength.

2

“Can you hear me properly?”

“I can hear you just fine, so stop pulling my hair. Also, your tone leaves much to be desired.”

Having no choice, I reluctantly turned around to hear what she had to say.

“Yamamura Miki wants to see you now.”

“Yamamura?”

While I was looking outside the window, she had disappeared, without even a sound or a trace. In an instant she must've slipped silently into the hallway.

1

Apparently, she had left behind a message with Morishita.

“I suppose she could have said it directly, but approaching the current Ayanokoji Kiyotaka face-to-face would make her stand out badly, despite her presence being as thin as shrink wrap. Yes, I admit my magnificent metaphor was a bit of a flop. Is that a problem?”

“I haven't said anything, though…”

She made a joke, retorted to herself, and then quietly got defensive all on her own.

I planned to go to the library today, but I could certainly spare some time to meet with Yamamura.

2

More importantly, if I miss this chance, there's no telling when she'll call on me next.

“What should I do?”

“You should come with me. I'll guide you. You owe me one for this, you know?”

She quickly stood up and struck a pose with her thumb raised like a helper coming to the rescue.

3

Honestly, I wouldn’t mind going alone if she just told me the place, but she instead put me in her debt....Well, refusing would be a hassle, so I decided to go along with it.

It could be that Morishita wanted to tag along too.

I lightly glanced around the classroom to see who was still left.

Shiraishi and Nishikawa were chatting with a small group of girls, but Hashimoto and Kito had already left.

Usually, when I’m planning to meet someone, the location was often somewhere inside Keyaki Mall. Even for someone like Yamamura, who kept her presence as low as possible, this was no exception. But the place she specified was a bit unusual, not a cafe or anything like that.

“Oh? She’s not here,” Morishita remarked as we arrived at a break area on the second floor lined with vending machines.

1

Instead of Yamamura, a few first-year students were gathered, chatting on a nearby bench.

No matter how inconspicuous Yamamura was, if she hid right next to the vending machines with a crowd around, she would surely draw unusual attention.

“Seems like she backed out after seeing the group of first-years.” Morishita guessed.

“Seems that way. But if she’s not here, where could she be? Have you tried calling her?” I asked.

Without answering, Morishita nodded at me to follow her. Crossing her arms, she approached the vending machines and placed her right palm on the floor.

I had no clue what she was doing, so I watched silently.

“Hmm... she must have been sitting here just moments ago. It’s still faintly warm,” Morishita observed.

“Is that so?”

Even if she’d been sitting on the floor, once she stood up, the warmth should have faded within seconds, or at most, tens of seconds, but...

“If you don’t believe me, go ahead and touch it. That way, you’ll indirectly feel the warmth of Yamamura Miki’s butt.”

4

The way she said it was unpleasant, but curiosity got the better of me, so I touched it with my palm.

7

Instead of warmth, it felt surprisingly cool.

“Whoa, he actually touched it! What a pervert.”

“It was you, who told me to touch it…”

“Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, if someone told you to grope someone, would you just obediently do it?”

4

“No.. I wouldn't…”

“That's right. You shouldn't be so easily fooled or swayed by others. From now on, you should learn to judge for yourself what's right or wrong, and not get deceived. Got it?”

2

She just confessed she deceived me.

1

I wanted to point it out, but what troubled me more was the first-year students nearby who were watching with interest as this small girl scolded me. Probably, they also overheard words like ‘butt,’ ‘warmth,’ and ‘pervert.’

From start to finish, it was all misunderstandings, but I wasn’t about to get a chance to explain myself.

“Anyway, let’s move. Yamamura Miki has moved to just outside the south exit.”

Morishita said, showing me a message from Yamamura on her phone.

A message had indeed arrived:

「Sorry, please allow me to change our meeting place to just outside the south exit. I am truly sorry.」

But the timestamp showed it was sent five minutes ago.

“Just to be sure, when did you notice this message?” I asked.

1

“As soon as it arrived. Why?” she replied casually.

Five minutes ago, that would've been about the time we entered Keyaki Mall.

I had seen her make the motion to take out her phone... so the message had indeed come.

“So that means you knew Yamamura wasn’t here, and that the floor was already cold?”

“Of course I knew all of that,” she answered confidently.

4

It turned out this whole detour was utterly pointless, no, a completely wasted action.

“Come on, let's hurry to the south exit. If we keep Yamamura Miki waiting for too long, she will disappear from the face of the earth.”

Despite her causing a huge delay herself, she turned back around without a hint of remorse.

Just outside the south exit, we simultaneously scanned the area.

“Oh my? She's not here either.”

“Yeah, she’s not.”

It was a place originally far away from the dorms and sparsely populated, so I thought we would find her right away, but we couldn't. I looked towards the roadside trees, but there was still no sign of her.

“What a pain she is. Leading people on a merry chase.”

“You’re one to talk.”

We continued scanning every corner, but found neither her nor any trace she had left behind.

“This is like a live-action version of Where's Wally. What a waste of time.”

“You're one to ta— ah, never mind.”

No matter how many times I retort, it was probably meaningless by now.

“Even so, I will end up retorting again. That’s the role of the ‘tsukkomi’ in a comedy duo.” She said, giving herself an imaginary reply from my side.“Don’t just pair us up without asking.”

If only we had headed straight for the south exit, we’d been here ten minutes earlier. Maybe Yamamura would have been standing quietly, waiting, though who really knows.

The air was still and quiet when suddenly Morishita’s phone vibrated faintly in her hand.

“It's from Yamamura Miki. 'Find me if you can'? How provocative!”

A message like that from Yamamura? I glanced sideways at the phone screen, only to find it was just a notification about the latest economic news.

4

“Don’t sneak a peek at someone else’s phone, you rude person,” came the sharp rebuke. I realized my impulsive action was indeed a bit rude.

2

“It can’t be helped. Shall I try calling her?” Morishita offered.

“It's not that it can't be helped. Wouldn't it have been better to do so from the start?”

“Radio waves are bad for the brain. I want to avoid using them as much as possible,” she explained.

1

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I felt it was better not to dig deeper.

Just as Morishita put the phone to her ear and started to make a call, I felt a faint breeze from behind.

“Ah, um—”

“Wow, Yamamura Miki just appeared out of nowhere. Don’t scare me like that.”

“S-sorry.”

Without a sound, Yamamura appeared, lowering her head slightly with a look of apology, likely for the sudden scolding and the changed meeting place.

“I heard from Morishita that you have something to talk to me about, is that true?”

It's a sad state of affairs that I have to be suspicious from that point, but the wonderful relationship of trust I've built up with Morishita so far makes it unavoidable.

“Ye... yes. Since Ayanokoji-kun transferred classes, we haven't, um, spoken a single word... so…” Yamamura stammered.

It had already been about a month, and counting greetings to and from school as conversations, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she was the only student in the class I hadn’t properly spoken to.

“Yeah. That was out of consideration since you didn’t want to stand out, but did it bother you?”

“N-no, not at all. I was grateful...” she muttered, voice trembling.

Her nervousness seemed even greater than when we first met. To the untrained eye, it might look like she had regressed, but that wasn’t the case.

Until now, Yamamura had quietly suppressed herself, making her presence nearly invisible.

But now, seeing her desperately trying to speak, I interpreted it as a sign of her trying to break free from her past self, an evolution in progress.

However, considering the life she’d led until now…

For someone who has lived passively 99% of the time, being suddenly told to be proactive is a huge challenge.

She tried in vain to move the conversation forward, but couldn’t quite manage it.

Morishita probably doesn't know this side of Yamamura, flailing about like this. Passive people speak in a certain way, and until now, their conversations were probably conducted in that familiar manner.

“Well… I, um… so…”

I decided to just watch over her for now. If I were to jump in ahead and say, “Is this what you want?” or “Do you want that?” it would only make her more passive.

“Ah, and… so…”

Yes… watching patiently was what mattered.

Yet, a full minute had nearly passed with her still fidgeting, unable to finish her sentence.

Should I give her a little nudge to make it easier to speak?

No, for the sake of her growth, I should wait here for as long as it takes for Yamamura to speak on her own.

“So, what I mean to say is…”

The conversation stalled endlessly.

There are quite a few students who are not good at communicating, and I don't deny that I fall into that category, but it's impressive how many different types there are.

1

There are people like me who can't think of words to say in the first place, and there are people like Yamamura who have things they want to say but find it difficult to voice them.

In contrast to me, who had taken a stance of waiting patiently, Morishita, next to me, seemed to have run out of patience and moved to stand beside Yamamura.

For a moment, I thought she was going to offer some subtle support—

“Fwoosh!”

Morishita puckered her lips and blew a sharp breath right into Yamamura’s ear.

2

“Eeek! Wah! Wah! What!?”

Yamamura, who had been seemingly staring at me but wasn’t really paying attention, hadn’t noticed Morishita sneaking up so close. The scream she let out, the loudest in Yamamura's History, echoed loudly around us.

“Wh-wh-wha-what are you doing...!”

Morishita smirked without a hint of remorse. “Hmph. This is the Ear Gun. Everyone gets startled when it catches them off guard.”

I couldn’t help but comment, “You just twisted the word ‘air gun’ to make it sound like that, but… isn’t it still basically the same?”

“Now that you mention it, that's true. I’ll give you some credit, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.”

It might have been the least satisfying praise I’d ever received in my life.

Meanwhile, the tension Yamamura had painstakingly built up seemed to snap and vanish like it had never existed.

Morishita, proud as ever, wore a smug grin and reached out to lightly pinch Yamamura’s cheek.

“Wha-what are you…!?”

“Well, Yamamura Miki. Don’t you feel a little more relaxed now?”

“Eh? Ah… maybe… so.”

“Tension and release are important in all things. That is the secret bestowed upon those who have mastered comedy.”

1

“C-comedy...?”

“Well, that doesn't matter, so just hurry up and go tell Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.”

The rigid stiffness in Yamamura’s expression softened visibly, and the flush on her cheeks mellowed just a little.

Despite being rough and somewhat nonsensical, Morishita’s antics had an unexpectedly good effect on her.

1

Her gaze, which had been fixed awkwardly on the tip of my nose this whole time, finally lifted to meet my eyes.

But perhaps that was asking too much, she quickly looked away again, retreating back into her shell.

“…T-today… I called you here because… there’s something I wanted to tell you…”

Her voice, though still carrying a trace of hesitancy, was far clearer than before. The stammering that once chained her words was gone, replaced by an earnest steadiness.

“I want to change. I want to gain more confidence in myself and be able to smile in front of people. I truly… mean that.”

2

She took another breath, almost like a diver surfacing for air, then continued carefully, but without retreat. Each word was chosen, connected with effort, carrying the weight of everything she had been holding back.

How much courage had it taken for her to expose something so vulnerable, so painfully self-conscious? She still couldn’t hold my gaze for long, her eyes flitting away after each glance.

But even so… this was good. It was already a small victory in itself.

The seed of change had sprouted within her. And with that newfound resolve in her heart, she had reached out to me.

“Please… let me help you. To reach Class A.”

1

“Yamamura,” I replied, “you already have the grades. You’re already an asset to the class.”

She shook her head. “I want to do more. I think… there are things only I can do.”

1

From beside me, Morishita cut in, her tone pointed yet supportive. “You understand, don’t you, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka? This is where you answer Yamamura Miki’s expectations.”

“Yeah. You’re right,” I replied calmly. “In that case, there’s something I’d like you to do right away.”

“Y-yes!”

A simple enough task, one perfectly suited to test her capabilities, and the first step in seeing just how far Yamamura Miki could go.

“I want to know about Shiraishi Asuka.”

“Sh-Shiraishi-san...?”

She had likely been prepared for any kind of espionage, as long as it was aimed at other classes. Being asked to investigate someone within her own class, was something she clearly hadn’t anticipated.

Morishita, of course, wasted no time. “So the man who came to save the class turns out to just be a lecher…? The end times are truly upon us.”

1

“You’re as freewheeling in your interpretations as ever,” I sighed.

“Am I wrong? Shiraishi Asuka is the class’s hidden Madonna. Surely even you, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, have already fallen prey to her charms. Why not be honest with both your body and your heart? Now then, care to explain?”

She curled her hand into a fist and began pressing it insistently against my cheek. Apparently, she was pretending it was a microphone. It would have been almost funny, if it didn’t actually hurt.

1

“I’m trying to improve the resolution of my understanding of the class,” I explained. “I’ve made progress with people like Yoshida and Shimazaki, but with Shiraishi… it’s like pushing against a curtain. I can’t afford to focus endlessly on one classmate, which is why I want your help.”

Morishita tilted her head, as if weighing my words.

“Well, that’s a very plausible argument. I suppose there’s some room for sympathy if you’re struggling to understand her.”

“R–really…?” Yamamura murmured.

“Well, you wouldn’t know, Yamamura Miki,” Morishita continued. “You use your low profile to spy on other classes or on people like Hashimoto Masayoshi, the type you can’t trust. Someone like Shiraishi, who appears harmless on the surface? You’ve never kept watch on someone like that.”

“I… I think I could try,” Yamamura said after a pause, her voice soft but steady. “If you want me to, I’ll look into Shiraishi-san in my own way. But I can’t promise I’ll find anything useful…”

“That’s fine,” I replied. “Even the smallest detail will do, just find out if she has a side she doesn’t show to me or the rest of the class.”

Espionage against another class always carried risks. But with a classmate, the chance of it snowballing into something serious was low.

Even if Shiraishi realized Yamamura was involved, her resentment would likely be directed at the person pulling the strings, not Yamamura herself.

And if she actually thought Yamamura was acting alone… well, that would tell me all I needed to know about her perceptiveness, my analysis of her could be considered complete, no matter how unclear her personality might remain.

Since transferring, I’d never worked this closely with Yamamura before. Within the class, only Morishita seemed to have noticed any connection between us.

It was around the time I finished relaying the information about Shiraishi, bolstered by Yamamura's sudden courage.

The stillness of the south entrance, where not a single soul had passed by until now, was broken.

From the quiet corridor beyond, a lone figure emerged, stepping into view with an almost theatrical casualness.

Upon spotting us, he shook his head with a ‘good grief’ look, a faint smirk on his face, and began walking over.

“Well now, ain't this a cold shoulder? Not invitin' me to what looks like an important conversation.”

Morishita’s eyes narrowed immediately. She didn’t even bother to hide the distrust in her voice

“How did you even know we were here, Hashimoto Masayoshi?”

“Process of elimination,” Hashimoto replied with a shrug. “I ran all over the school and the Keyaki Mall, you know. Wondering where the two of you might’ve gone together… well, I might have imagined a tryst we can’t exactly talk about.”

“Please,” Morishita replied flatly, “Save the jokes for your face.”

1

“That’s a bit harsh,” Hashimoto chuckled, feigning injury. “I'm pretty confident in my looks, you know.”

I had to give him some credit. The fact that he hadn’t followed after us the moment we left the classroom spoke to his sense.

He’d factored in the risk of getting spotted tailing and adjusted his timing accordingly.

“I’m on your side, you know? You don’t have to be that cautious,” he said, stepping closer to Morishita despite her habit of openly avoiding him.

“If you so much as touch me, I’ll let out a maidenly ‘glass-shattering’ scream, you beast.”

I wasn’t sure “glass-shattering” and “maidenly” could coexist in the same metaphor, but I could see the vision.

Although, I had to admit, a small part of me was genuinely curious, what would a Morishita scream even sound like?

2

“Well, I suppose I can understand why you didn’t want me in on this one,” Hashimoto said, his tone light but his eyes still sharp.

He shifted his gaze away from the unyielding Morishita and onto Yamamura. Under his stare, she shrank back a step, her eyes darting away like a startled animal.

“So… are you making Yamamura one of your close aides, Ayanokoji?”

“That’s not what this is,” I replied. “To me, this is still my first term in Class C. There aren’t many people I can truly trust. But Yamamura and I have been together during the school trip and the training camp. I believe we’ve built at least some degree of a bond, and I’ve judged her as someone I can trust as a person. So it’s not about adding her to my side, it’s about having her choose to join me.”

That reversal in position was important.

“Well, well,” Hashimoto chuckled, “looks like you’ve really earned Ayanokoji’s trust, Miki-chan.”

“E-eh… M-Miki…?” she stammered, startled by the sudden familiarity.

Morishita’s voice cut in, sharp as a blade. “Calling a girl by her first name without permission, how uncouth, Hashimoto Masayoshi.”

“You’re one to talk, calling me by my full name like that,” Hashimoto shot back, “Come on, Ai-chan, why don’t we get along too?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Harsh. What’s it gonna take for you to trust me?”

“Trust is not built in a day,” Morishita declared “In your case, perhaps it would be more accurate to say it takes years to build… and only a single moment to lose.” She jabbed her index finger right in front of his face, the gesture as precise as it was cutting.

“Even if Ayanokoji won’t back me up, at least Miki-chan would, wait, what?” Hashimoto blinked.

In the brief moment his attention had been stolen by Morishita’s verbal dagger, Yamamura had already slipped away again, as silent as falling snow.

“As expected of a ninja’s descendant,” Morishita said with a knowing smile. “The talent clearly transcends time.”

1

I was certain she had no such ancestor.

2

“I’ll be heading back as well,” Morishita added, already turning on her heel. “And don’t even think about following me.”

“Don’t worry,” Hashimoto said, turning to me with a crooked grin, “you’re the only one I’ll follow, Ayanokoji.”

“My condolences,” Saying that to me Morishita tossed over her shoulder.

Then, without taking a single step towards the Keyaki Mall, she veered away and continued down the street, clearly heading straight home.

Once it was just the two of us, Hashimoto dropped his shoulders in an exaggerated manner.

“Am I really that untrustworthy?” he asked, as though fishing for a different answer.

2

“Do you think otherwise?”

“…Nope,” he admitted after a pause.

“Then you should be prepared for people to keep things from you, or avoid you entirely.”

He winced. “Ouch. That stings.”

Hashimoto wasn’t stupid. He knew full well that his past actions had earned him a reputation as someone to be wary of, and he had made peace with it.

Even so, he’d chased after me. From where I stood, that sort of move could only bring him trouble, and no benefits.

“You find it strange?” he asked. “Me showing up when I’ve been told not to come.”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wonder about it.”

“Heh. Yeah, I want to get to Class A. I used to be the guy who thought it was fine to betray my class if that’s what it took. I really did try everything to cozy up to the other classes. But now, I’m convinced this class can win. I even threw away my private points, that’s proof enough, isn’t it?”

It was true. He’d sacrificed a hefty sum, so buying a transfer ticket to jump ship if we sank was now all but impossible. For Hashimoto, that was his declaration, he was ready to go down with the vessel, no matter how rough the waters got.

“You're an amazing guy, Ayanokoji,” he went on. “Even without my help, I figure you’ll win. I know it’s smarter not to stick my neck out and get myself hated like this. But I can’t help it. I want to throw myself into it and give it everything I’ve got, so we can reach Class A.”

2

He said it with a seriousness that didn’t quite match his usual demeanor… then quickly let a grin slide back into place.

“Not that you’re gonna believe me. But I’m still gonna keep tagging along.”

It seemed he had no intention of holding himself back, regardless of how people saw him.

“Do whatever you want,” I told him. “Though I expect Morishita to keep up her endless… complaints. Or rather, insults.”

“That’s my only real headache,” Hashimoto muttered with a lopsided grin. “She’s noisy, you know? So, what now? Wanna go somewhere?”

“I’d like to, but I’m heading to school.”

“School? What, the library? Didn’t you meet Shiina on Friday?”

“No, she had already gone home that day, so I couldn't see her. This is my reattempt, so to speak.”

“......I see?” His tone carried a thin veil of skepticism.

On Friday, he’d let me go without batting an eye, but hearing the same reason two days in a row seemed to stir a different reaction.

His expression shifted, just slightly, into something more doubtful, as though weighing whether I was simply brushing him off.

“You know, you—” he began, but stopped short. A small laugh escaped him, followed by a long exhale as he shook his head from side to side.

“Never mind. If you want to see Shiina, I'll yield quietly today too. Well then, I'm off.”

6

Without another glance, he turned and disappeared into the crowd at the Keyaki Mall.

I watched him go, the faint trace of something in his tone lingered in my mind. But time was already slipping away.

I quickened my pace, setting my sights on the school.

After parting with Hashimoto, I made my way back towards the school.

The clock had already crept past five. The campus felt emptier now, most students had gone home, and the few who remained were scattered across the grounds, swallowed up in their club activities.

From the field came the sharp chorus of shouts, from the gym, the squeak of sneakers cutting across polished floors.

I wasn’t here for practice. My destination was the library. Or, more precisely, the person waiting there, Hiyori.

It was a meeting I had been postponing again and again.

Friday had only given us a brief exchange of greetings. No real conversation. No chance to explain.

She had invited me to transfer to Class B. I had refused, choosing instead to join Class C, completely unrelated to her, because of my own objectives.

I don’t regret that decision.

And yet… something still tugged faintly at the back of my mind.

Maybe it was because part of me had genuinely wanted to accept the invitation, to step into Class B where she was waiting.

4

As just another boy at Advance Nurturing High School.

Not as a leader. Not as a strategist.

Just one student among many, living a year free of obligation.

It could have been my future.

A future I had the power to choose.

My thoughts wandered back to the end of my second year, to that day when Ishizaki had grinned, grabbed my hands, and shoved them together with Hiyori’s.

“...Do I regret it?”

I stopped, staring at the faint reflection of myself in the glass window I was passing.

All this time my feet had kept me away from the library under the guise of ‘personal errands’ and flimsy excuses.

It was true that the timing had often been bad, with many things overlapping at once.

But it wasn’t as if I couldn’t have gone to the library at all.

2

I should have been able to find a gap somewhere and made time to at least show my face.

Maybe… I’d been unconsciously avoiding it. Avoiding her.

Why?

I already knew the answer.

Because I didn’t want to see that sad expression on Hiyori’s face. 

9

Because I’d betrayed the smile she had given me when she genuinely invited me, even though I knew I shouldn’t have.

It wasn’t logical.

The longer I stayed away, the worse things would get. Her sadness would only deepen. If I was in the wrong, the sensible thing to do was to face her, apologize, and try to repair what I’d broken.

4

And yet, I kept asking myself the same question, even knowing the answer wouldn’t change.

No answer came back. Of course. The answer had been sitting in my head from the start. Pretending otherwise, pretending I didn’t know, wasn’t like me.

It felt… off, as if my thoughts were running out of rhythm.

I had been the one to choose Class C, to turn down Hiyori’s invitation. So the next step should have been obvious: apologize to her.

So why had I let such a simple thing drag on for so long?

1

It wasn’t as though I lacked the means. I could have called her, or sent a message. Yet I hadn’t even entertained that as a real option.

And Hiyori wasn’t the only one who had been hurt by my decision. My departure had affected many. Horikita and the others in Class A who were aiming to graduate in that class had been among the first to bear the cost.

And yet, why am I— only concerned about Hiyori...?

14

I drew my eyes away from the reflection in the glass, took a breath, and set my stalled feet into motion again.

2

I didn’t have any real proof, but… if I went and faced her, I felt I’d understand something.

“Ah…”

Just as I made that decision and resumed walking, I saw Hasebe emerge from the corridor leading to my destination.

The hallway was empty except for her. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing here alone at this hour.

A small part of me was curious, but we weren’t exactly on friendly, casual-speaking terms. Most likely, we’d just pass each other without a word.

And it seemed she thought the same. She noticed me immediately, but dropped her gaze, her expression hidden behind lowered lashes.

We passed each other in silence.

However—

“H-hey...”

It was a voice so soft, so uncertain, that for a moment I wondered if I’d imagined it entirely.

It was faint, but there was no mistaking it, the voice had come from Hasebe.

I stopped in my tracks and turned. She, too, had turned back, though her gaze remained fixed somewhere else, refusing to meet mine.

“I'd like to talk... for a little bit, if that's okay...?”

1

It would have been easy to refuse, but I could see a strong resolve in Hasebe.

She had approached me in the same way at the end of the school year, but due to Amasawa's interference at that time, I wasn’t able to hear what she had to say.

3

If I were to let it slide again here, she might never try to approach me again.

That time, I hadn’t yet transferred classes. Now, I had already left. Whatever she wanted to say might have changed, but… it still felt like something I should hear.

“…Yeah. You tried to talk to me before, but I didn’t get the chance to listen.”

“You remembered?” she asked softly.

“It was only a short while ago,” I replied.

“That’s true…” She hesitated, then continued, “…But in that time, you transferred to another class. Was that… my fault? Did I make you uncomfortable by talking to you?”

“It's completely unrelated, so you can rest assured. I’d been approached by people from the current Class C even before the year-end special exam. Sakayanagi’s expulsion just made it possible.”

That was a lie, a harmless fabrication. The truth didn’t matter. Whether my reasons for leaving or of betrayal were one or a hundred, it made no difference.

“I see... I get it.”

Whether she believed my words or not, she let out a breath as if relieved, or rather, a little happy.

“I’d thought resentment would come first,” I said.

“Resentment… no. It’s not like I have the right to hold something like that against you. If anything, I feel like your changing classes has created a more appropriate distance between us. Of course, I’ll be in my current class for the long run, so I get that much at least.”

A distance that feels stifling, even when you’re on the same side.

A distance that feels strangely comfortable, even when you’re supposed to be enemies.

It seemed that was how Hasebe saw things now.

“So, if it's not resentment, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Ah, well… actually—” She trailed off, fumbling for words. Her fingers moved quickly over the phone in her hands, tapping and swiping as if searching for something in a hurry.

“I just really wanted you to see her, Ayanokoji-kun, to see how hard she's working—”

From the flustered motions and those few fragmented words, I could already tell what she meant.

Someone who had left this school.

Sakura Airi— her life after walking away from here.Hasebe must have some information about that.

I had heard briefly that she had passed an audition, but I only had that as knowledge.

A little while ago, I wouldn't have been interested.

However, through my contact with Tsubaki, I have developed a slight curiosity about what lies beyond for those who have dropped out.

Faint curiosity. That was all. Certainly not enough to make me stop and turn around.

But Hasebe was watching me now, her eyes clouded with uncertainty.

If I brushed her off here, the only thing I’d gain would be a handful of spare minutes that are hardly worth the trouble.

2

“…Is that not okay?” she whispered, gripping her phone tighter when I didn’t answer right away.

“That’s not it,” I said at last. “I want to hear it.”

“Eh—r-really?”

“Yeah. I didn’t have the courage to look it up myself… but, honestly, I’ve been wondering for a while.”

Their perception of me was growing more solid, more guarded. There were still small cracks here and there, but soon, prying out information from within would become much harder.

In that case, I just have to come at them from a new angle.

Having thrown everything away and betrayed my class, my position was now a delicate one. It was exactly because of that, that I couldn’t afford to let slip any chance to test the waters, to see how to reel someone in, or to search for the tiniest crack that might lead to a breakthrough.

1

Hasebe's eyes lit up as she held out her phone to me.

“That girl, she's starting to appear on TV bit by bit, though it's in a late-night slot.”

“On TV? That's amazing.”

Sakura was expelled around the start of the second semester last year. Not even a year had passed since then, and yet she was already on television.

2

The fact alone was enough to surprise me. I’d imagined her simply transferring to another school somewhere, and settling into an ordinary student life.

It seems she had wanted to talk about Sakura at the end of the school year, inviting Miyake and Yukimura as well, and I was able to confirm that the content she wanted to convey was exactly the same.

Our standing conversation went on longer than expected, and the scenery outside gradually began to turn red.

“Ah...! Sorry, Ayanokoji-kun. I got carried away talking... Weren't you on your way somewhere?” she said suddenly, realizing the time.

“It's fine. I enjoyed talking with you after so long, Hasebe, and I’m glad I learned about Sakura.”

“R-really? I still haven't said nearly enough about Airi, but... I'm glad.”

“If you don't mind, let's make time somewhere again sometime and you can tell me more. Or, if you want to be considerate and avoid backlash from Class A, we can do it over the phone.”

“Of course. I'll make sure Kiyopon becomes Airi's second-biggest fan.”

8

She didn't seem to notice, but she unconsciously called me by my old nickname.

We parted ways soon after. By the time I arrived at the library, just before six, Hiyori was already gone. The librarian, the same one as before, told me she’d left about ten minutes earlier.

1

There are two main routes from the library to the front entrance. I’d taken the wrong one.

When asked if I wanted to leave a message, I declined. “I’ll come again another day.”

There was no need to rush. Sooner or later, the moment would come when I’d learn the answer I sought.

Having just finished his dinner alone in the dorm, Kaneda stood before the bright, glass-fronted karaoke building, shifting on his feet.

The meeting time was set for eight, but he had arrived early, far earlier than necessary. His hands moved restlessly, sometimes adjusting his sleeves, sometimes his glasses, as his eyes wandered about the area.

1

Every now and then, he let out a quiet sigh or took a slow lap around the storefront trying to kill time without admitting he was nervous.

Such strange behavior instantly vanished with the appearance of a certain person.

“I-I look forward to working with you today, Shiina-shi.”

He stammered, bowing politely. His glasses, slightly askew from the movement, were pushed back into place in a practiced motion.

The smile that followed was stiff, almost mechanical. But when his eyes took in Shiina in her casual attire, something he rarely saw, he exhaled in a long, steady breath, as if trying to ease the tension coiled in his chest.

“I look forward to it as well, Kaneda-kun. This feels a little fresh, doesn't it?” she replied, her tone light.

“Yes, really. Though I have to wonder what Ryuen-shi is thinking with all this.”

Together, they tilted their heads back to look at the karaoke shop, its neon lights flickering in warm reds and golds, inviting passersby like a beacon. Kaneda, however, barely saw the building, his attention was fixed on Shiina, committing every detail of her to memory.

2

He had arrived this early for a reason, he’d guessed she might do the same. His hunch had paid off. Now, with twenty full minutes before the others were due to arrive, they were alone.

“We still have a little time before the meeting. I think it might be best if we went in and waited ins—”

He didn’t finish.

A booming voice rang out across the mall, shattering the delicate quiet between them.

“What the hell, I thought I’d be the first one here, but you two are already here?!”

Despite there being nothing to be particularly surprised about, Ishizaki arrived with an over-the-top reaction.

“…Hello, Ishizaki-shi,” Kaneda muttered, his tone edged with mild displeasure. Whether it was Ishizaki’s over-the-top attitude or something else entirely, the irritation in his voice was hard to miss.

“You're here early. I had the impression you were the type to be late.”

“You sound disappointed, Kaneda. Don’t tell me you—” Perhaps sensing the reason for Kaneda’s suspicious demeanor, Ishizaki grinned slyly.

“W-what is it…?” Kaneda asked, voice tight.

“Welcoming Ryuen-san is my job. I'm not gonna let you act all cool!”

“I see... so that's why you came early, Ishizaki-shi.”

“The three of us arrived at almost at the same time. So there’s no first place here, remember that.”

“Rest assured, I don't place importance on such things.”

“Still, I wonder what Ryuen-san is thinkin'. He said he's even calling that Tokito guy today, not just Kaneda. He's not a high enough rank to be called to a meeting, is he?”

“I don't know about Tokito-shi, but since I regularly meet with Ryuen-shi, I'd appreciate it if you didn't lump me in with him.”

Kaneda pointed that out strongly, pushing up the bridge of his glasses with his middle finger.

Indeed, Kaneda had spoken with Ryuen many times during the exam period, most of them in one-on-one settings where confidential strategies were discussed.

“The policy for the special exam should have been decided already, right?”

“Yes. We haven't received any additional instructions so far. Or, it's also possible that this is a meeting to report on some other possibility he's discovered…”

“Or maybe,” Ishizaki grinned again, “he needs our strength now, y’know, like when we get together, amazing ideas just burst out.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say,” Kaneda countered, “but not just anyone will do… Don’t you agree, Shiina-shi?”

It was an age-old saying, more hands don’t always mean better results. Kaneda was about to pull Shiina into the conversation when the air suddenly shifted.

Ryuen had arrived.

1

The moment he stepped into view, the lively chatter dissolved into a weighted silence. Ishizaki straightened, forcing a mask of seriousness onto his face before bowing deeply.

Without a word, Ryuen began walking toward the karaoke shop’s entrance, and the others followed.

Inside, the staff led the four of them down a short hallway to the quietest part of the building, where a private back room had been reserved in advance.

Ryuen leaned back in his seat, the dim glow of the karaoke room’s lights catching the faintest curve of his smirk as he slid the menu across the table.

1

“Order something,” he said flatly, letting the laminated sheet stop in front of the three waiting figures.

Kaneda, ever the precise type, was the first to break the silence. “It appears Katsuragi-shi and Tokito-shi haven’t arrived yet. Is that alright?”

“They messaged. Said they’d be late,” Ryuen replied, not even sparing him a glance. “More importantly, Kaneda. Heard from that guy Hashimoto?”

Kaneda slowly shook his head. “No. We were in regular contact up until right before we became third-years, but ever since Ayanokoji-shi’s transfer was confirmed… he’s been ignoring my messages.”

1

Ryuen closed his eyes for a moment, the corner of his mouth curling just slightly upward. “So, he’s made up his mind.”

Kaneda adjusted his glasses. “It would seem he holds Ayanokoji-shi’s abilities in very high esteem. I’ve had to revise my own evaluation of him multiple times recently, but… I still believed Hashimoto-shi would leave himself the option of transferring to another class.”

“Well, Sakayanagi would've found Hashimoto's bat-like diplomacy amusing, but with Ayanokoji, you never know how things will turn out. If he shows any sign of securing an escape route just for himself, he'll be cut off without mercy. Even that guy doesn't have the guts to cross that kind of bridge.”

Either curry favor with other classes at great risk, or commit fully and sink or swim with Ayanokoji. That was the result of his decision after weighing the options, Ryuen answered.

“...You really do hold him in high regard.”

Kaneda muttered, unable to fully share Ryuen’s conviction. He did acknowledge Ayanokoji’s abilities, but not to the same extent.

To him, Ayanokoji still looked like an ordinary student, someone who might have cracks to exploit, not the kind of razor-edged presence that Sakayanagi and Ryuen possessed, which made people think twice before even approaching.

Ryuen turned his gaze toward Shiina, who had remained silent ever since they’d entered the room.

“How does Ayanokoji look to you now?”

“...Me?” she asked, startled.

“Since he transferred classes. His actions. What do you think he’s after?”

Shiina hesitated, then recalled the expression on his face the other day, when they had met by chance in the elevator. It was a look that lingered in her mind, one she still couldn’t quite read.

“I’m not sure… I can’t really answer that well.”

Ishizaki shook his head with a wry smile. “That’s impossible, Ryuen-san. Shiina’s view of Ayanokoji is filtered, y’know”

1

“A filter? What do you mean by that, Ishizaki-shi?” Kaneda’s tone was curious, almost amused by the strange choice of words.

“Well, you know, it's a special filter. The Ayanokoji filter.”

At that, Kaneda’s expression stiffened, turning sharp and serious as if the words carried weight beyond mere joke.

“I—”

Even Shiina, who was dense about such things, understood what Ishizaki was trying to say, but she looked down awkwardly.

On the other hand, only Ryuen's gaze on Shiina didn't change at all.

“I don't care what feelings you have for Ayanokoji. But as long as you're a member of my class, you need to work to make the class win. Got it?”

Shiina nodded earnestly. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good. So, you’ve had a chance to talk with Ayanokoji since his transfer, right? Spill it.”

“No… actually, I haven’t properly talked with him yet.”

“Huh? Why not? I told him to go see you properly.”

Ishizaki cocked his head, confused, while Shiina’s energy visibly drained at the mention of Ayanokoji’s name.

“I’ll contact him right now—” Ishizaki started, but Ryuen cut him off.

“You’re done here. Just sing.”

As if to say there was no need for him to say anything unnecessary, Ryuen grabbed the microphone and tossed it to him.

“Whoa-ho-ho, y-yes sir!”

Ishizaki caught it deftly, a grin spreading across his face as he thought he was entrusted with the role of the hype man.

After picking his song, the intro music began to fill the room.

Just as Ishizaki’s voice started rising, the heavy wooden door swung open, and Katsuragi entered the room first, his voice cutting through the murmur.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

No sooner than he had spoken Tokito barged in, stepping close to Ryuen “What’s the meaning of this? Calling me out here too?”

Ryuen smirked “Sometimes, it’s good to hear from the useless ones as well. Just felt like it.”

As Ishizaki’s passionate singing filled the room, sparks started flying between Ryuen and Tokito.

“Calm down,” Katsuragi said. “First, explain why you gathered us here today. The special exam’s plan should already be settled, right?”

“The dismantling of Ayanokoji and the next special exam. I thought I'd touch on those.”

3

“...Hoh. That sounds like a rather interesting topic.”

“Do you have any new information on Ayanokoji?”

“No, I don’t. I haven’t talked to him much recently.” Katsuragi replied. “There’s always someone from Class C, usually Hashimoto, hovering around Ayanokoji. So I'm avoiding any unnecessary contact.”

Tokito on the other hand averted his gaze and remained silent.

“Ryuen-shi. If you don't mind, could you let me investigate Ayanokoji-shi? Since I haven't gotten close to him until now, I might be able to find out something new.”

1

“Do as you please,” Ryuen replied with no expectation.

With Ishizaki’s song finished, the discussion shifted toward the next special exam.

“In my opinion, the outcome of this special exam won't be much of a problem. However, looking at the lenient reward, it wouldn't be strange if the class points fluctuated considerably in the next special exam. Losing that will absolutely not be forgiven.”

Katsuragi, perhaps sharing Kaneda's prediction, nodded firmly.

“Exactly. Even if we’re Class B and Horikita’s group is Class A, we’re far from safe. Since our last loss, the pressure from below has only intensified beyond the narrowing gap. If we lose two or three times in a row, a tie is unavoidable. And many will start seeing us as the underdogs rather than equals.”

“That special exam will be our class’s final line of defense,” Kaneda concluded grimly.

It was still only May. With the next major special exam slated for June or July, the worst-case scenario might unfold even before reaching the halfway mark of the school year. The weight of impending challenges loomed heavy.

“If there’s any hope,” Katsuragi reasoned, “it’s that the likelihood of a special exam focused purely on academics isn’t very high. Studying is always part of student life, inseparable from it. But if we’re forced to compete only in that arena, this class doesn’t stand a chance from the outset. The school wouldn’t let the contest be so unfairly skewed all the time.”

At the stage of class sorting upon enrollment, Class A had been packed with a majority of honor students.

That was undeniably a hefty advantage, a large ‘savings’ banked at the starting line. Yet, if everything were determined solely by that, there’d be no need for competition at all, it would be a mere formality, completely superfluous.

“If the rewards are worth it,” Katsuragi added, “then we should use everything at our disposal, including the private points we saved last time. I’m not advocating it, but even threading a thin line on ethics might come into play.”

“You're starting to get it, Katsuragi. But I have no intention of fighting within the rules. Whether it's a foul or whatever, I'll use any means necessary to win.”

“I know, but I will stop you.”

Katsuragi held his ground firmly, maintaining his stance of strictly adhering to the rules.

The conversation lingered, spiraling into an impasse with no resolution. Between their words, silence fell heavily, underscored by the lively noise spilling from the neighboring room where other students were laughing and celebrating. In contrast, their tense deliberation felt oddly isolated.

“Ryuen-kun... you're not trying to force information about Ayanokoji-kun out of me, are you?”

“I just don't think I'll be able to pick up any useful information from you.”

“...Is that really all?”

“Huh? What are you trying to make me say? You want me to order you to use any means necessary, just to grasp his weaknesses?”

“—That's…”

Shiina struggled to answer, but Ryuen already knew her feelings well, the ones which went far beyond simple friendship.

“I’ll make sure you’re useful,” he declared, “not for Ayanokoji, but for this class.”

Even if it meant exploiting those feelings, Ryuen envisioned a future where they would defeat Ayanokoji.

“Yes. That resolve— I intend to make it.” Shiina nodded firmly.

Since the transfer, she hadn’t been able to share more than a few words with Ayanokoji. That unspoken distance weighed heavily on her, forcing her to steel herself.

To Ayanokoji, she might be nothing more than a mere acquaintance, perhaps even less. If that was true, then any lingering tender feelings would only serve as a heavy chain, weighing her down and preventing her from moving forward.

Kaneda silently observed Shiina’s sorrowful profile, as if she were on the verge of vanishing altogether. It was a poignant moment, the first true battle of spirit for a man who had always lived free from the fire of conflict.