Chapter 5: The Candidates

Nearly two grueling hours of alternating between academic hurdles and physical exertion had finally come to an end. The supervisor announced a thirty-minute break, bringing the trials for the four teams of Group 3 to a temporary pause.

Some students collapsed right where they stood, while others made a beeline for their backpacks, desperately digging out bottles of mineral water. It was perfectly understandable; the ordeal had felt like taking a comprehensive exam while baking under the blazing sun.

“That really took a toll on me... I don't think I'll be able to manage even a single step for a while.”

Slumped on the ground, Sanada removed his glasses and let out a heavy sigh, voicing his sheer exhaustion. His dirt-streaked jersey was a clear testament to his efforts; anyone looking could see he had given it his all. He was usually the type who kept his composure intact. His cool manner rarely cracked, and he did not often allow fatigue or emotion to show plainly on his face. But under these conditions, even he could not conceal the toll.

“You're seriously insane, you know that? Sweeping every single individual match across both the academic and physical tasks…”

Yoshida wandered over as he spoke, his expression caught somewhere between exasperated disbelief and genuine admiration. Although his tone was casual, a distinct gleam of shock lingered in his eyes. Sanada, twisting the cap off his plastic bottle, too, offered several firm nods of agreement.

A single victory could be brushed off as a fluke or a favorable matchup. But consistently crushing such a diverse range of tasks painted a very different picture. Even to classmates who hadn't known me for very long, it was undeniably clear that this stemmed from true ability.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Sanada looked at me with an expression of quiet acceptance.

“To be honest, I knew you were capable to some extent, but... this far exceeded my expectations.”

He took a slow sip of water before meeting my gaze once more. Unlike Yoshida's, his words held no trace of exaggeration.

“No, seriously,” Yoshida added. “While we were desperately trying to just survive the tasks, this guy was completely unfazed the whole time. Honestly, I'm just glad he didn't go all out against us back when he was still in Horikita's class.”

6

When people genuinely acknowledge someone who produces results, and at the same time feel that they belong to that same circle, they become far more honest than one might expect. The tense atmosphere softened slightly, and within this brief period of rest, the outline of Class C was steadily growing firmer, taking shape once more.

“Still,” Sanada said after a moment, glancing around, “I was just thinking it was unusually quiet around here. It turns out Morishita-san isn't with us.”

Catching sight of Morishita resting her back against a distant tree trunk, Yoshida followed up on Sanada's observation.

“Well, she's terrible at anything physical,” he said. “She probably doesn't even have the energy left to open that loud mouth of hers.”

2

After the two of them had recovered a little, I began handing over the tokens in order. With each transfer, a matching electronic chime rang out from my smartwatch and echoed from Yoshida's and Sanada's as they received them.

I set off toward Morishita to hand her the tokens as well, but no sooner had I started walking than I heard another set of footsteps hurrying toward me.

“U-Um, Ayanokōji-kun…” The voice came from close by, soft enough that it was almost swallowed by the noise of the break. “Do you have a minute?”

Mii-chan stood there looking visibly unsettled. Her eyes did not stay in one place for long, and even before she said another word, it was clear that she had not come to speak casually.

“Um... over here.”

She gestured for me to follow, slipping away from the prying eyes of the other students and moving to a secluded spot where our voices wouldn't carry.

“There's something I want to consult you about,” she began, lowering her voice even further. “I know it's not really my place since we aren't in the same class anymore, but this is something I feel like I can only tell you, Ayanokōji-kun…”

Her restless gaze darted around, and it was plainly obvious who she was looking out for: her own classmates from Class A. Judging by the fact that Ike and the others were currently nowhere to be seen, she had clearly waited for the perfect window to make her move. I stayed silent, gently prompting her to continue.

“It's... about Kushida-san. Since today's tasks started, right up until this break... Shinohara-san hasn't given her a single token. And so…”

1

“I understand why you wanted to keep this quiet, but that's highly sensitive internal information,” I interrupted. “Are you sure you want to be telling me this?”

“Even though our classes are competing against each other, Ayanokōji-kun,” she replied, hesitating over each word. “we're still allies in the same group right now. Plus, it seemed like you genuinely value Kushida-san's abilities, so…”

4

Normally, information about who had handed over how many tokens, and to whom, was something that should never be revealed carelessly. But the fact that she was bringing this to me meant that it had finally begun.

“Assuming what you're saying is true, you and Ike have still been receiving your shares without any issues right?”

She responded to my question with two small nods. “Yes, we've both... received ours perfectly fine.”

“If Shinohara is keeping hold of all of Kushida’s tokens and refusing to hand over only her share, then that is certainly a problem.”

Even without witnessing the scene firsthand, it was easy to picture the suffocating atmosphere it must have created.

“Shinohara-san was complaining last night,” Mii-chan continued. “She said Ike-kun was constantly staring at Kushida-san. Even during the one-legged balancing task this morning, them being paired up was purely a coincidence, but her mood has been terrible ever since.”

“Knowing Ike, he's always had a soft spot for cute girls. Throw Kushida into the mix, and it's bound to be even worse.”

“B-But Shinohara-san is his girlfriend…” Mii-chan’s voice trembled with an earnest kind of discomfort. “I honestly think Ike-kun is completely at fault here…”

She wasn't wrong. In reality, however, one cannot spend an entire eternity with eyes only for their precious girlfriend. It is often said that as a relationship went on, intimacy deepened while the initial spark inevitably faded. Considering Ike had harbored feelings for Kushida to begin with, a wandering eye was, to some extent, unavoidable.

1

“I thought that once Ike learned more about Kushida’s true nature, he would put some distance between himself and her,” I said. “But I suppose that hasn’t happened.”

“I suppose not. Lately, Kushida-san has often been isolated in the classroom, and Ike-kun has been going out of his way to talk to her. That's probably been bothering Shinohara-san for a while too.”

“But even taking all of that into account, the root cause of everything goes back to the Unanimous Special Exam... doesn't it?”

Mii-chan closed her eyes tightly, and then nodded deeply.

“In truth, the words that Kushida hurled at Shinohara back then were so intense, they were impossible to forget.”

1

I remembered it clearly enough.

During the Unanimous Special Exam, Kushida had mocked Shinohara in front of the entire class, casually declaring her to be ‘on the ugly side.’ If Shinohara's boyfriend had then been constantly doting on and acting chummy with the very person who had humiliated her, it was all too easy to imagine the resentment boiling inside her.

Even so, maliciously withholding tokens exclusively from Kushida was a secret she couldn't possibly keep forever.

Up until now, Shinohara had likely bitten her tongue for the sake of the class. She had kept Kushida's toxic nature under wraps, taking a step back to avoid causing any public friction. But now that she had been handed the power of a representative, it seemed her restraints were finally beginning to snap.

“Still, this is surprising,” I noted. “I thought you'd come to hate Kushida too, Mii-chan.”

While it might not have been quite as brutal as insulting Shinohara's physical appearance, Mii-chan had also been a victim; her innocent crush on Hirata had been ruthlessly exposed during the Unanimous Special Exam.

Putting aside the fact that most of our classmates had already noticed her feelings long before the reveal, the humiliation had still driven her into such a deep depression that she temporarily stopped coming to school.

“It's true that Kushida-san... really hurt me,” she admitted softly. “But even so, I feel like if I let myself become a hateful person just like her, it would be wrong.”

2

She was bringing this delicate issue to me, someone who had essentially betrayed her class by transferring out, despite knowing full well the complex circumstances at play. It was safe to assume her words were grounded in genuine moral conviction, not just surface-level pleasantries.

“From what you've told me, there's no doubt she's abusing her position as representative to harass Kushida,” I said. “But your biggest concern is the worst-case scenario: that Kushida might actually end up in last place. Am I right?”

“Yes…”

If Shinohara monopolized all the tokens and refused to give Kushida a single one, Kushida would be fighting a steeply uphill battle, no matter how many tokens she managed to earn on her own.

This Special Exam was divided into three categories— individual, team, and group— but having the entire class united was an overwhelmingly massive advantage.

If a class treated the trivial Private Points reward as an afterthought and simply distributed their tokens equally, that solidarity alone would act as a tremendous shield against falling into last place. To counter such a strategy, the other classes would be forced to unite as well, ultimately boiling the exam down to a sheer numbers game where the expulsion would fall on the class with the lowest overall total.

However, the logistical hurdles required to reliably execute that kind of strategy were staggering. It demanded trusting unseen classmates, coordinating meetups in the forest, transferring tokens, and meticulously adjusting the totals. The entire plan rested on the fragile premise that no one would betray the group.

“There's no doubt that Shinohara's pent-up frustrations are manifesting in her actions,” I continued. “However, it's highly unlikely she'll withhold Kushida's tokens all the way to the bitter end. If word of this reaches Horikita, Shinohara's own standing within the class would be in serious jeopardy.”

“So... I don't need to worry?”

“For now, it should be fine. Do you honestly think she would go so far as to force Kushida into expulsion over a personal grudge? It's safe to assume this is just her way of exacting petty revenge.”

Driving a classmate to expulsion solely out of personal dislike wasn't a simple line to cross.

When I added that, Mii-chan seemed to relax slightly. A small breath escaped her, as though she had finally been allowed to set down a little of the weight she had been carrying.

“But if you're still worried, just keep a close eye on the situation for me,” I added. “If Kushida still hasn't received any tokens by the end of the third day, or going into the final day, I'll step in and contact Horikita myself. After all, if Shinohara finds out you were the one who tipped her off, she might end up holding a grudge against you instead.”

“...You're really willing to help?”

“If we want Group 3 to take first place, we'll need the cooperation of every class,” I replied. “The order in which we cross the finish line on the final day has a massive impact on our score multiplier. I don't know the precise rules yet, but there's no guarantee we'll win if we're carrying around a powder keg like this.”

When I told her that, Mii-chan bowed her head deeply. “Thank you so much...!”

1

“More importantly, you should probably head back now,” I cautioned. “It'll be a hassle if Shinohara and the others spot us together.”

Giving a small, earnest nod, Mii-chan hurriedly jogged off. She nearly tripped over her own feet in her haste, but she managed to slip away, successfully putting enough distance between us before Shinohara's group ever noticed she was gone.

2

“Pray tell, what mysterious matters were you whispering about just now, Ayanokōji Kiyotaka?”

3

Appearing beside me seemingly out of nowhere, Morishita leaned in with her sudden question.

“Looks like you've recovered your stamina,” I noted.

“Pardon? Whatever do you mean? My boundless energy is simply overflowing in an endless fountain of vitality, you know?”

3

Perhaps her panting heavily just a few minutes ago had merely been an optical illusion.

3

I decided not to press the issue any further.

And so, the quiet dissonance brewing within Class A was steadily beginning to take root.

After completing several more Individual and Team category tasks, with lunch and a longer break in between, we followed our supervisor’s instructions and made our way toward B7.

As we ventured deeper into the forest the dense canopy overhead gradually swallowed the sunlight, casting the area into a dim greenish gloom. Cut off from the breeze, the humidity clinging to our bodies felt even more oppressive.

The ground beneath our feet was soft, mixed with patches of deep mud, giving us the constant, dreadful sensation of our feet sinking into the earth.

Exhausted from the relentless string of tasks, the students' footsteps were heavy and sluggish across the board.

Everyone unconsciously shortened their strides, trying to conserve whatever stamina they had left.

This was especially noticeable with Morishita. Her shoulders drooped as she tried to maintain a steady rhythm, but her breathing had begun to falter slightly.

“What in the world is going on...? Are we seriously still not there yet...?”

“They're literal demons!” Ike groaned, his voice carrying the same exhaustion he was clearly unable to hide. “Do they have any idea how much we've been walking around these past few days?!”

Shinohara glanced sideways at him, offered a few words of comfort, and slowed her pace to match his. She did not say much, but fatigue was clearly visible on her face as well. Even so, she did not stop walking. She was probably conscious of not falling behind the others.

In stark contrast, Katsuragi remained completely unfazed. He walked at a steady, consistent pace, with a perfectly straight posture. It wasn't as though he was free of fatigue, but he didn't show any of it on the surface, simply keeping his eyes fixed dead ahead as he continued walking. His efficient, waste-free movements likely helped suppress unnecessary stamina loss.

1

Ibuki walked a little behind him, wearing an expression of complete boredom.

Her gaze wasn't fixed on her feet or straight ahead; instead, she seemed to be staring blankly off into space. She walked while occasionally kicking a loose pebble, using the small motion to distract herself from the faint irritation simmering inside her.

A considerable number of assignments had been thrown at us over the course of the day, but to put it plainly, Ibuki’s results had been extremely poor.

At the start, the number of tokens she held had probably been almost the same as mine. Now, though, there was no need to check the exact figures. Within Group 3 as a whole, she was competing with Kushida for last place.

So far, Katsuragi had shown no signs of leniency.

There was probably a deliberate reason for that. By being strict with Ibuki, he may have been trying to force her to produce results. But that was only one side of it. The more immediate reality was that he simply had not secured enough surplus tokens to spare any for her.

2

When it came to contests of academic ability, the advantage inevitably went to the other classes. No matter how many assignments we cleared, the more we completed, the more the gap between us and them would gradually widen. And even in physical contests, the one area where Ibuki should have had her chance to shine, luck had not been on her side. There had been cases where the teammates she was paired with dragged her down, and other times when she had the misfortune of running into me in succession.

1

There was no way she could possibly find this situation amusing.

A thin veil of light slipped through the gaps between the trees, faintly illuminating the path ahead. Our destination was still nowhere to be seen. Conversations had dwindled until only the sound of footsteps remained, falling into a steady, almost mechanical rhythm against the damp forest floor.

Each of us continued forward in silence, confronting our own exhaustion in our own way.

What exactly was waiting beyond the forest?

No one had the room to think about it, let alone confirm it. We simply kept moving our feet, one step after another, as though our bodies had been reduced to that single repeated motion.

1

Suddenly, the supervisor leading the way slowed his pace. He didn't come to a complete stop, but he did glance back over his shoulder, his eyes sweeping across our entire formation.

After a few more steps, he called out in a clipped voice.

“Kushida-san, there's an incoming call for you over the radio. Can you take it?”

Kushida gave a small jolt the moment she was called out by name.

“Me?”

The faint tilt of her head was natural enough, but there was a distinct hint of caution laced in her voice. It was the first external contact we had received since the exam began, so her wariness was perfectly understandable.

The supervisor offered no further explanation, simply gesturing lightly to the device in his hand.

Kushida looked around once, then quickly complied without breaking her pace. She reached out, accepting the radio from the supervisor, and placed the small earpiece into her ear.

Shinohara and the others stared at her intently, wondering what was going on.

After a few moments of nodding to whatever was being said through the earpiece, Kushida exhaled softly and spoke.

“It seems to be Horikita-san.”

With that single sentence, the air around us shifted.

She had kept her voice low, but it was loud enough to be easily heard by anyone standing nearby.

A contact from outside the group, and from Horikita no less, was unlikely to be some mere routine work.

From where we were, there was no point in trying to eavesdrop on the radio itself. Whatever came through the receiver would belong to Kushida alone. Her own voice, however, was another matter. If someone wanted to listen, it would not be impossible to catch what she said.

Because of that, the gazes around her naturally began to gather.

The first to move were the three students from Class A.

As Kushida separated from the supervisor, they adjusted their positions and began walking around her, forming a loose screen. At the same time, they kept watch, making sure no one tried to come too close.

There were no explicit rules stating we couldn't approach, but it was an unspoken agreement. Maintaining our distance now would make it easier to demand that same level of privacy when we inevitably needed it for ourselves.

Katsuragi and I issued quiet instructions almost at the same time and moved toward the front. A moment later, the students from Class D also began putting distance between themselves and Kushida’s group.

As I walked ahead, I cast a quick glance over my shoulder.

Shinohara was walking beside Kushida, and the expression on her face held a different shade from before.

The faintest hint of irritation.

The fact that Horikita had called Kushida, not her.

2

During the Unanimous Special Exam, Kushida had revealed her true nature and placed the class in danger. Her credibility had fallen visibly after that, as had her standing within the class’s internal hierarchy.

And yet, despite all of that, Horikita had contacted Kushida first.

For Shinohara, those two facts were becoming a source of invisible stress, quietly eating away at her from within.

On top of that, there was a faint trace of anxiety. If Kushida reported Shinohara’s petty behavior as a representative to Horikita, a reprimand would almost certainly follow. While I couldn't be absolutely certain, with Shinohara hovering right over her, Kushida likely wouldn't do that.

After all, in the eyes of those around her, Kushida was not the kind of bad girl who would go around voicing complaints.

Even so, a different kind of silence from the one we had been carrying earlier had undoubtedly fallen over the group.

We had crossed into Area C9, our destination finally within reach, when the supervisor stopped in his tracks and turned to face us.

“If we proceed at this pace, I think we'll cross into Area B7 in about fifteen to twenty minutes,” he announced. “We're almost there, so hang in there just a little longer.”

Receiving those words of encouragement, a few students offered weary murmurs of acknowledgment before we resumed our grueling march.

Not long after, a burst of noise reached us from somewhere nearby; voices, footsteps, the faint disorder of another group in motion. A moment later, the first figure to come into view was another sweat-drenched supervisor, walking at the head of the formation. And behind him came Group 6.

1

The supervisor assigned to Group 6 approached Urushihara almost immediately, and the two exchanged a few brief words.

On the afternoon of the exam's second day, this marked our first genuine encounter with another group.

Among the Class C students assigned to Group 6 were Kitō, Yamamura, Satonaka, and Machida. From the look of them, they had also covered a considerable distance. Fatigue clung visibly to many of the students, weighing down their shoulders and slowing their steps.

While many students likely felt a flicker of relief at seeing fresh faces, a seed of suspicion no doubt took root alongside it.

“Please rest assured, everyone,” Urushihara called out. “We simply happened to cross paths. There are no inter-group tasks scheduled for today.”

1

With that single announcement, the tension in the air dissipated. The students' underlying suspicions had fortunately been off the mark. With the reassurance that this was nothing more than a chance encounter, they dropped their guard, and tentative smiles slowly began to spread across their faces.

“It appears Group 6 is heading to Area B8, so you're welcome to travel together for the time being,” he continued. “There's no issue with you chatting or exchanging tokens if necessary. Please, feel free to do as you like.”

That permission was all it took.

Students from the other classes began moving toward one another, closing the distance quickly. Questions were exchanged almost at once. How was your group doing? Were you managing to collect tokens? A little later, the Class C students; Satonaka, Machida, and Yamamura, also approached us.

“You guys holding up alright with the tasks?” Yoshida asked, casually opening with some small talk.

Machida gave a noncommittal nod. “We're barely scraping by right now. It's hard to tell exactly how much everyone else is earning. Would it be faster if we just showed you our tokens?”

His gaze shifted to me for approval, so I quickly shot the idea down.

“No, that won't be necessary. Right now, instead of worrying about where we stand, it's better to focus entirely on gathering as many tokens as possible, even if it's just one more.”

“You might be right…” Machida admitted. “But honestly, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious.”

“You can rest easy,” I assured him. “I've already decided on a strategy for how we'll survive this Special Exam. Right now, we're just waiting for the right moment to put it into action. I have no intention of letting anyone from Class C get expelled. When the time comes for detailed instructions, I'll definitely contact you over the radio.”

Leaving the rest of the intra-class chatter to Yoshida and Sanada, I shifted my focus beyond our class.

My primary concern right now was Class B's movements. Katsuragi was already at the center of a discussion, where the events and developments within Group 3 over the past day would undoubtedly be shared in meticulous detail.

He would pass on any information he could without relying on the radio, such as exactly how many visible tokens I currently held.

I knew it wouldn't be long before that intel reached Ryuen's ears, prompting him to formulate his countermeasures.

There was no need to rush, I will just proceed with the strategy as planned───

“Hey, Ayanokōji-kun...“

2

The voice came hesitantly from beside me.

“Do you have a minute?”

It was Hasebe from Class A. When I glanced past her, the other Class A students were gathered a short distance away, smiling and talking with Kushida at the center of the group. Hasebe’s departure from them had not drawn any particular attention. At least for the moment, no one seemed to be watching us closely.

“Let's walk a bit slower,” I suggested.

“Yeah, thanks.”

We hung back to let the other students move ahead, then stepped off the main path toward the nearby beach, staying just close enough to keep the trail in sight. The sound of footsteps and conversation thinned behind us, replaced by the dry rush of wind and the steady breeze of the sea.

Spotting a large rock nearby, I had Hasebe take a seat to keep her from burning through any more of her stamina.

“How are your legs holding up?” I asked. “You must be burning through a lot of energy too with the endless hiking and tasks.”

“Yeah, I'm managing,” she replied. “What about you, Ayanokōji-kun? Are you... actually, never mind. I doubt I need to worry about you.”

“I'm doing well enough in my own way,” I said. “How are things on your end?”

“I'm not really sure. It’s hard to say without knowing how the other groups are doing, but I think we’re holding our own well enough.”

It seemed that, for now at least, neither Hasebe nor the rest of the Class A students were feeling overly anxious.

A stronger sea breeze swept across the shore.

Hasebe narrowed her eyes against it and turned her gaze toward the water, where the sunlight scattered in countless bright fragments across the surface.

“Do you feel guilty?” I asked.

At my question, she turned back to face me, pausing for a moment in quiet contemplation.

“If I said I didn’t feel any guilt at all,” she said at last, “that would be a lie…”

With that preface out of the way, she continued. “But it's better than seeing you get expelled, Ayanokōji-kun. That's what I told myself... so I can honestly say I don't have any regrets. Was my advice helpful?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Thanks to you, I managed to avoid taking the fall and getting expelled.”

2

“I see. I'm glad.”

It wasn't a forced smile; it was a genuine expression that Hasebe showed from the bottom of her heart.

“Can I... you know, um... go back to calling you Kiyopon...?”

5

“You really fixate on the strangest things,” I noted. “I don't mind, if that's what you prefer.”

“...I'm glad. For me, using that nickname is kind of like a barometer, I guess? It just makes me feel a certain way... probably. Ugh, I don't know. What am I even saying?”

She let out a self-deprecating laugh, fully aware her words were turning into a jumbled mess.

“Once this uninhabited island exam is over and we're back at school, we should hang out over summer break,” she suggested.

“I highly doubt Miyake or Yukimura would welcome that.”

“Oh, right. I guess so. Then it can just be the two of us... ah, I mean, just for starters, you know?”

13

“Alright. Just let me know whenever.”

Seeing that I hadn't rejected her, but instead agreed without a second's hesitation, Hasebe broke into a genuinely delighted smile.

4

It was half past six in the evening.

The campsite for the second day had been fixed at B7, and no sooner had the decision been made the students began moving with practiced efficiency. Packs were lowered, tools were brought out, and the quiet rhythm of preparation spread through the site.

Back when we were first-years, pitching a base camp had been an agonizing struggle. Now, regardless of whether they were boys or girls, it was something they had all grown incredibly well-accustomed to.

“Their movements are finally starting to look the part, aren't they?” Morishita said, folding her arms with an air of authority. “If you ask me, they still have a long way to go, but I suppose I should offer some praise for achieving this much as mere high school students.”

A rather bold stance for someone who had done absolutely nothing but watch since day one.

2

“Ayanokōji-kun, you have an incoming radio call. It's from Nishikawa-san in your class. Can you take it?”

The supervisor walked over relaying the message as he extended a two-way radio in my direction.

I accepted it immediately and slipped the earpiece into place.

“Could it be some sort of trouble?” Morishita mused aloud. “How bothersome.”

“Sorry, but could you get the fire started in my place?” I asked.

“Eeek.”

I engaged the safety lock on the utility lighter and handed it over to Morishita, who had made a small joke (I guess?) with an expressionless face.

“Well, just leave it to me,” Morishita said solemnly. “I'll make sure Ayanokōji Kiyotaka's bed is reduced to ashes.”

4

“That would almost certainly result in expulsion, so please take this seriously.”

1

I was slightly concerned, but I couldn't afford to keep Nishikawa waiting. Deciding to put my faith in her, I left the lighter in Morishita's hands.

“Sorry for the wait.”

The moment I responded, Nishikawa launched right in, her tone brimming with her usual energy.

“Yahoo, Ayanokōji-kun. Do you have a second? There's something I wanted to get your advice on.”

Advice? Did something happen?

“What is it?”

“I was just getting a little worried about the token counts for the other groups. Aren't you worried, Ayanokōji-kun?”

“Of course it's on my mind. I'm especially concerned about Shiraishi and the others who ended up in Ryūen's group. Under normal circumstances, I don't think they'd make a mistake that would wipe out their tokens, but in this case, even that isn't a guarantee.”

The possibility that they could fall into some sort of trap and hit zero, even if only for a fleeting moment, couldn't be completely ruled out.

“Even if they haven't hit zero, someone might be struggling because they're dangerously close to it.”

“Is there a specific student you're worried about?”

Her tone practically gave the answer away, but I deliberately feigned ignorance.

“I want to know how Asuka is doing.”

Perhaps sensing I had seen right through her, Nishikawa dropped the pretense and got straight to the point. She must have been harboring the same concerns I had since early on.

To find out a specific person's exact token count, the only surefire methods were to make direct physical contact or call them on the radio. The former relied heavily on luck, while the latter cost precious tokens. Neither was a simple matter.

“Wouldn't calling Shiraishi directly solve your problem?” I asked.

“She's a kind girl. Even if she were in trouble, I feel like she'd hide the truth from me. But since you're the class leader, Ayanokōji-kun, I think she'd answer you honestly.”

“I see. It's true that the only way to confirm her exact tokens without meeting in person is over the radio. Unfortunately, I have no intention of wasting a token just for that. I don't approve of how you're using the radio right now, either.”

“...But what if she really is in trouble?”

I had laced my words with a hint of reprimand, but Nishikawa's voice remained completely unfazed.

“She might be desperately hoping for help,” she added.

“You really don't want to see Shiraishi expelled, do you?”

“Of course I don't. She's a dear friend of mine.”

“That may be true. But plenty of other students share those exact same feelings and relationships. ‘I don't want him to be expelled,’ or ‘I want to protect her’— you aren't the only one who thinks that way, Nishikawa.”

“That's why I came to you for advice,” she said. “Honestly, I'm perfectly willing to use my own tokens to contact her. But it might end up being a waste, and more importantly, I don't want to disrupt the class's harmony. That's why I'm asking.”

“So, if I tell you ‘no’ right now, will you obediently hold back?”

“I wonder about that…”

Perhaps Nishikawa also understood what my answer would be, as she muttered evasively but with a hint of irritation.

“How you use your personal tokens is up to you. If you absolutely must know how Shiraishi is doing, I have no right to stop you. However, confirming her token count now will only buy you a fleeting moment of peace of mind. In fact, if you find out she really is struggling, it will only fuel your anxiety.”

If that happened, she would inevitably use the radio to contact Shiraishi again a few hours later, wasting even more tokens. Her focus on the exam would fracture, leading to a drop in efficiency. Factoring that in, even if Shiraishi were to inflate her token count to reassure her, she certainly wouldn't under-report it.

“Shiraishi is highly capable. Don't you think the odds of her falling to last place are quite low right now?” I asked.

“I won't deny that. But there are no absolute guarantees, right?”

“I suppose it depends on who she's up against.”

“If she only has a few tokens left, I have to do something.”

“Are you prepared to protect her even if it means sacrificing yourself?”

“No way, that's impossible. It wouldn't mean anything if Asuka gets to stay at this school but I get expelled,” Nishikawa answered without hesitation. “However, if it means protecting Asuka, I don't care if someone else has to be the sacrifice.”

2

“Are you saying that, in a worst-case scenario, I should sacrifice someone other than you or Shiraishi?”

“Exactly. That's precisely why we made you the leader, Ayanokōji-kun. Because I believe you're capable of making ruthless decisions for us.”

2

It seemed Nishikawa's little ‘consultation’ carried far more weight than I had originally anticipated.

“Sorry, but I have my own way of doing things.”

“Are you saying... you won't help her?”

“My role isn't to decide whether or not to save Shiraishi. It's to ensure we never end up in a situation where we have to make that kind of binary choice in the first place.”

“That's reassuring,” Nishikawa said. “But doesn't that also mean if push comes to shove, we have no idea what kind of decision you'll actually make?”

“If you can't trust me, then you'll just have to handle it yourself. If you manage to earn more tokens than anyone else, there's a chance you could save Shiraishi entirely on your own.”

“Hey, Ayanokōji-kun. You don't actually think our class doesn't matter, do you? Because if you're secretly a spy for Class A, that really wouldn't be funny.”

1

With a cold, accusatory tone, she mercilessly stabbed the words into me.

“I won't say it's too late to be bringing that up now,” I replied. “I know it will take time to earn everyone's understanding.”

“I guess so. I just can't place my complete trust in you yet. So, if you want me to get to that point, cooperate with me. Contact Asuka.”

“I have no intention of repeating myself.”

1

“Right... That's a shame, but it looks like we're out of time. I'll hold back for today, but I’ll make no promises about tomorrow.”

Saying that, Nishikawa ended the call.

1

“Thank you,” I said as I handed the radio back to the supervisor.

I turned my eyes toward Morishita at once, who was supposed to be busy setting up the fire.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Eeek.”

3

“No, never mind that.”

Instead of holding the ignition lighter I had just given her, Morishita was crouching on the ground, drawing a picture in the dirt.

“I thought I'd leave behind a dying message,” she said. “It's a sketch of the culprit.”

2

“I have no idea who that's supposed to be, but more importantly, I’m fairly certain I asked you to start the fire.”

“Oh, details like that hardly matter,” Morishita replied, “It will be all the same if Ayanokōji Kiyotaka does it now. Please, feel free to burn it to your heart’s content.”

Saying that, she lifted her foot, picked up the lighter she had been stepping on, and held it out to me: the nozzle pointed directly at my face. Much like a pair of scissors, common sense dictated handling these tools over in a way that posed no danger to the recipient, but she clearly didn't care. To make matters worse, her finger was resting right on the lever.

Just as I reluctantly reached out to take it, she suddenly squeezed the trigger, attempting to ignite it right in my face.

However, nothing happened..

“A misfire?!” she gasped.

Naturally, it didn't ignite. I had engaged the safety lock before handing it to her.

“You're a dangerous person, you know that?”

“It was a joke, of course,” she replied. “I knew the lock was on; I merely wanted to give you a fright.”

“Knowing the lock is on doesn't excuse trying to ignite a lighter while pointing it at someone.”

2

“More importantly,” Morishita said, brushing past that point with no sign of reflection, “what were you discussing with Ryōko Nishikawa?”

“She said she was worried about Shiraishi and wanted me to check on her. When I refused, she accused me of being a spy for Class A.”

“Oho. A rather sharp observation, coming from her. I must admit, I was just beginning to harbor that very same suspicion once again myself. The ‘Ayanokōji Kiyotaka is a Class A Spy’ theory.”

“Is that so?”

“Watching you up close these past two days, I can't help but feel like you've been particularly preoccupied with Kushida Kikyō. It certainly seems to go far beyond simply worrying about a former classmate.”

"I see. So it looks that way even from an outside perspective?"

"It certainly does. Or rather, that ‘even’ is practically a confession! You just said, ‘even from the outside.’ I caught that!”

She flashed me a smug little grin, looking exactly like a detective who had just backed a criminal into a corner.

1

"It's true that Kushida Kikyō appears to be quite capable in her own right,” Morishita continued. “But even so, you two have been a bit too close. To the point where I'm honestly startin' to think, ‘Are ya actually in love with her or somethin', yo?’”

3

Why did she suddenly switch to a casual tone? Or rather, why does she sound like a total delinquent now?

“Let me ask you something. Even if that were the case, would it cause any problems?” I asked.

“Let me ask you this in return: do you honestly think it wouldn't?”

“Anyone can see that Kushida is an exceptional student,” I said. “Even you can't deny that. Therefore, there's no doubt that she's the most suitable person to keep this group running smoothly. The presence or absence of romantic feelings is completely irrelevant.”

“If you desire an exceptional student, why not your classmate Sanada so-and-so, or Katsuragi so-and-so? There's no need to limit it exclusively to Kushida Kikyō, is there?”

2

“We were in the same class for two years. I have a much clearer understanding of Kushida's capabilities.”

“Because she's a former classmate, you say? My, my, how very suspicious. The plot thickens. It almost sounds like you'd swoop in and protect her from Shinohara so-and-so and her friends if push comes to shove. Let me be perfectly clear: I will not give you a single one of my tokens, you thief.”

1

I had already settled today’s portion properly, but it seemed likely she would continue pressing me on the details from tomorrow onward.

“Interpret it however you like.”

“Well, rest assured, I won't get angry at you for looking at Kushida Kikyō through rose-tinted glasses and playing favorites. Because as long as I am kept safe, I'm perfectly willing to turn a blind eye to it. Therefore, please make absolutely sure to prioritize me over Sanada so-and-so and Yoshida so-and-so.”

So, in the end, all that mattered to Morishita was that her own safety was guaranteed.

1

“Even so, you sure use ‘so-and-so’ a lot. I've been pondering this for a while now, but if you don't know their given names, there's no need to force yourself to use their full names, is there?”

2

“Then allow me to ask you this,” Morishita said. “What would you do if there were thirty people in the class with the surname Yamada? If you called out, ‘Hey, you there, Yamada,’ thirty boys and girls would all turn around at once. It would be absolute chaos! Surely it would be more convenient to know whether one meant Yamada Jirō or Yamada Hanako?”

4

While Yamada is certainly a common surname, it wasn't exactly the most populous in the country. A scenario where thirty people in the same class shared the exact same surname was practically unthinkable anyway.

It had been quite some time since I first met Morishita, but I still couldn't figure her out.

4

“Ayanokōji, come here a sec.”

1

Yoshida raised his voice and beckoned me over. A shadow had fallen over his expression, leading me to suspect that, right on the heels of my conversation with Nishikawa, yet another problem had cropped up.

“Let's go, Morishita,” I said.

“No, thank you,” Morishita replied at once. “It may be a troublesome matter, and I would prefer to avoid such things. I shall remain here and light the fire. Please lend that to me.”

With that, she snatched the lighter right out of my hand.

Leaving her in charge of the fire felt incredibly risky, but I decided to put my faith in her just this once. Then I hurried over to Yoshida to hear what was going on.

“I don't really want to stick my nose in other people's business, but Shinohara is seriously crossing a line,” he muttered gesturing vaguely with his chin toward the members of Class A, who were huddled together in a tight group. “It looks like she distributed tokens to Wang and Ike, but Kushida hasn't been given a single one.”

“Kushida hasn't? Why?” I asked.

It appeared that Class A's internal drama, which was supposed to be kept under wraps, had already leaked. Whether Shinohara had let it slip, Kushida had skillfully orchestrated the leak, or it had come from an entirely different source altogether, I couldn't be sure. Regardless, there was no point in trying to track down the culprit now.

A short distance away, Katsuragi and several Class D students who had evidently caught wind of the rumor were already approaching Class A. An argument seemed to be breaking out, and I could already see the anger flashing across Shinohara's face.

“We should probably head over there,” Yoshida said. He broke into a jog, and Sanada and I quickly followed suit.

“You guys are here too? What the hell is going on?” Shinohara immediately directed her frustration at Yoshida before shooting a sharp glare in my direction.

“I heard you aren't giving any tokens to Kushida,” Yoshida said. “Just because you're the representative doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want.”

“...This has nothing to do with you, Yoshida-kun.” Shinohara shot back. “We in Class A have our own strategies we're desperately trying to figure out in order to win. I don't know if you eavesdropped or what, but mind your own business. Don't butt in when you're from another class.”

Her counterargument was perfectly valid; under normal circumstances, this wasn't a matter Yoshida and the others had any right to interfere in.

“But we're in a group together,” Yoshida argued. “Stop disrupting the harmony.”

“Who's the one disrupting things here?” Shinohara demanded. “If we change our strategy because of you and end up losing, are you going to take responsibility for it?”

“That's…”

Faced with her forceful rebuttal, Yoshida faltered and took a step back. I, on the other hand, stepped forward, closing the distance between Shinohara and myself.

“What?” she said, fixing me with a hard, unflinching stare. “Do you have something to complain about too, Ayanokōji-kun?”

Her eyes held a stronger wariness toward me than they had toward Yoshida.

“If Horikita were to find out about this,” I said. “Wouldn't your position be in a bit of jeopardy?”

“Huh? Is that a threat?” She scoffed. “...This has nothing to do with you, Ayanokōji-kun.”

“If this were a strategy meant to secure victory, I could understand it. But what you’re doing is letting your own self-preservation and personal resentment take priority.”

“Satsuki ain't that kind of person! You just don't get her!”

1

Stepping in to protect his girlfriend, Ike shoved himself right into my face. He was practically seething, radiating an intensity that made it seem like he might grab me by the collar at any second.

Sonoda and Morofuji, who had been watching from farther away, seemed to notice the rising tension as well. Drawn by the commotion, they began moving toward us.

“Perhaps you really are executing this as a legitimate strategy,” I said. “But to the people around you, it certainly doesn't look that way. It looks like you're abusing your authority as the representative to suppress and control someone more capable than yourself. It looks like, in a worst-case scenario, you're planning to save your own skin even if it means kicking Kushida down to do it.”

“Are you kidding me? What's with these baseless accusations!” Shinohara snapped. “I became the representative for the sake of Class A, and I'm managing things so we can win. Stop making up stories based on your own warped speculation!”

Ever since we had formed this group, a lingering grudge had festered between us. Naturally, confronting her with such a harsh rejection of her methods was bound to invite hostility.

At this point, I shifted my gaze toward Katsuragi, who had been observing from the sidelines, and the two Class B students who had hurried over.

“Since we're on the subject,” I continued, “I’ll say this as well. I have some doubts about Class B’s policy too. I’m not saying a performance-based reward system is inherently bad. But when it’s handled too openly, I can’t say I’m impressed.”

Sonoda, clearly not expecting the sparks to fly his way, furrowed his brows in annoyance.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he said. “Another class has no business criticizing our policy. And I hate to put it this way, but especially not you.”

A class traitor. It was obvious they had no intention of taking advice from me, a person already at odds with Class A.

“Yeah, exactly! This ain't something for an outsider to butt into, Ayanokōji!” Seizing the opportunity, Ike quickly sided with Sonoda, attempting to drag their representative into the fray. “Right, Katsuragi?”

“It's true that it's none of his business. But the same goes for you and Class A, Ike,” Katsuragi replied heavily. Unable to stand being lumped into the same category as Shinohara, he made his dissatisfaction clear. “I am making judgments fairly in my own way, and distributing tokens among my three group members accordingly. But as Ayanokōji pointed out, Shinohara is controlling Class A's tokens entirely on a whim. That is not fair.”

“No, no, it's completely different! Satsuki is managing things on our end so we don't lose. The strategy is to properly redistribute them at the right time. Were you even listening to the explanation?” Ike complained, as if to say, And here I went out of my way to become your ally.

“If that is truly the case, then you should conduct yourselves in a way that actually convinces Kushida of that.”

At Katsuragi's words, Shinohara let out a mocking laugh.

“Isn't that, like, the exact same for you, Katsuragi-kun? Can you confidently say Ibuki-san is completely convinced by your methods?”

As evidenced by the fact that Ibuki was nowhere to be seen, it was safe to assume she was highly dissatisfied with Katsuragi's policies.

“...Perhaps you are right.”

Receiving Shinohara's unexpected counterattack, Katsuragi averted his gaze, patted Sonoda on the shoulder, and backed away.

“There, see?” Ike said, raising his voice. “The rest of you, back off! Don’t get in our way!”

At his words, the Class D students began to withdraw. Class C quickly followed as well.

Within Group 3, irreversible misalignments in the gears had begun to steadily form due to the clashing policies of the representatives. On one side was Kushida, who was performing well enough but hadn't received a single token due to Shinohara's management. On the other was Ibuki, who was unable to perform as she wished and was thus drip-fed a meager amount of tokens.

Of course, Kushida simply hadn't received her distribution yet, so her situation wasn't completely identical to Ibuki's. However, since her chances of receiving her fair share rested entirely in Shinohara's hands, the two girls were in remarkably similar positions when it came to their underlying anxiety.

Without a doubt, within Group 3, those two were currently the prime candidates for last place.

“What a wonderfully harmonious group we are.”

As I looked over to find the source of the comment, I saw Morishita spectating from afar.

The campfire still had not been lit.

14

After a break filled with unrest, and after dinner had passed in much the same unsettled air, two more tasks were announced, just as they had been the previous day.

The category was ‘Team’.

In these tasks, Class A managed a respectable result of taking second place twice, but naturally, Shinohara showed no sign of handing any tokens over to Kushida.

Though a faint look of anxiety occasionally surfaced on Kushida's face, she outwardly maintained the stance that she had complete faith in Shinohara.

The student known as Kushida Kikyō was the type of person who was kind to everyone, perpetually cheerful, and deeply trusting of others. From the perspective of students in other classes, the impression she gave wasn't vastly different from Ichinose. Because of that carefully crafted image, she couldn't simply air her grievances in public and demand, ‘I can't trust you, Shinohara, so hand over my tokens.’

That was precisely Shinohara's aim, and it seemed Kushida was being successfully taken advantage of.

I walked over to where Class A was huddled together and called out to her.

“I need to talk to you for a second.”

“The hell do you want, Ayanokōji? What're you plotting?”

Ike immediately jumped to his feet, stepping into my path as if to protect Kushida.

More accurately, I figured he was doing it to prevent anyone from interfering with Shinohara's policies as the representative. However, far from pleasing his girlfriend, his aggressive posturing seemed to be having the exact opposite effect as Shinohara looked rather displeased with him.

“I just came to talk to her as a fellow member of Group 3,” I said.

“You think that excuse is gonna fly?” Ike shot back. “Sorry, but we don't trust you.”

“I wasn't asking you, Ike,” I said, before walking past him. “Kushida, there are too many distractions here, so why don't we go somewhere else to talk?”

At my invitation, Kushida slowly rose to her feet.

“You can't go,” Shinohara warned her. “You know it'll look like an act of betrayal, right?”

“It's fine, Satsuki, I won't let her go,” Ike said before turning toward Kushida, his tone softening at once. “Kikyō-chan, we're definitely not gonna treat you badly or anything, so you shouldn't get involved with Ayanokōji. We have no idea what he's scheming.”

“It's okay, Ike-kun.” Kushida looked away from me, turning to offer him a gentle smile. “People have been saying all kinds of things, but I believe in everyone from Class A. I believe in you, Ike-kun.”

Saying that, she shifted her gaze from Ike to Shinohara, then to Mii-chan, before looking back at Ike once more.

“You especially have been looking out for me this whole time. I’m really grateful for that.”

“R-Really?” Ike’s expression loosened. “Well, I mean, it's only natural since we're allies.”

He chuckled, lightly rubbing a finger under his nose in a bashful display. However, upon noticing Shinohara glaring daggers at him, he immediately snapped back into a serious expression.

“So, I'm sorry, but I can't go with you, Ayanokōji-kun,” Kushida said to me.

Mouthing the words ‘Serves you right’ from an angle where Shinohara couldn't see his face, Ike shooed me away.

“Looks like you got rejected pretty harshly,” Yoshida laughed teasingly, having watched the exchange from near the tents.

“It's only natural for Class A to be wary of you, Ayanokōji-kun,” Sanada added. “Even if I were in their position, I imagine I would have handled it similarly. Though, I wouldn't have been so hostile about it, of course.”

“But why are you so concerned about Kushida?” Yoshida asked. “I mean, sure, I feel bad for her, but like they just said, it's not really something another class should be sticking their nose into.”

“I just can't leave her alone,” I replied.

“Wait...” Yoshida’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t tell me…”

“Have you finally noticed?” Morishita chimed in. “It seems our dear Ayanokōji Kiyotaka harbors simply extraordinary feelings for her.”

“Oh, man,” Yoshida said, pressing a hand to his forehead.

1

Without giving an answer to the two of them as they got worked up over their own assumptions, I stepped away and headed into my tent ahead of them.

Not only Shinohara and Ike, but Yoshida and the others had now thoroughly taken note of my unusual behavior.

That was a major gain for me.

Ibuki and Kushida. The candidates I intended to have expelled from this school.

9

By the day after tomorrow, their fates would be sealed.