Chapter 6: I'll Do Anything You Want

The morning of the third day dawned. Just as most of us had anticipated, the supervisor explained that today’s itinerary would center heavily around the ‘Group’ category. Our schedule had been pre arranged by the school, pitting us against a gauntlet of rival groups throughout the day.

Victory against an opposing group would yield tokens, which could be distributed through one of two distinct methods. The first was an equal split, awarding a uniform number of tokens to everyone in the victorious group; under this system, no disparity in standing would arise among the members of Group 3. The alternative method rewarded individual merit rather than collective success: regardless of whether the group won or lost overall, the top three performing students would be evaluated and granted a set number of tokens. Yet, no matter which distribution method was applied, the tokens would still be handed over in bulk to the group's representative first.

To make matters worse, shorter Individual and Team tasks were slated to be squeezed into the brief intervals between these larger events. It was guaranteed to be an exhausting day; just as much as the second, if not more so.

That collective sense of dread shared by the students soon proved entirely justified.

The moment we broke camp at eight o'clock, we immediately ran into Group 10, which belonged to Hashimoto. With scarcely a moment to exchange pleasantries, we were thrust right into a unique task that made use of the uninhabited island's terrain.

1

By the time the hour-long match concluded, there wasn't even a spare second to congratulate one another on a hard-fought battle; we were immediately herded toward the next designated area. After repeating this exhausting cycle of marching and competing against other groups three separate times, our much-needed lunch break finally arrived.

Though this thirty-minute window ostensibly doubled as free time, most students still huddled closely with their respective teams to eat. There were probably various things to discuss, such as checking the tokens acquired in the morning and consulting about the afternoon. Even someone as typically solitary as Ibuki remained close to the Class B encampment.

Amidst all that, Kushida stood out as the sole, glaring exception.

While she was seated nearest to Class A, she maintained a deliberate physical distance, quietly eating her lunch in total isolation.

The rift that had formed between her and Shinohara was painfully obvious, and there was no doubt she was suffering the fallout of that fractured dynamic. It wasn't as if her sudden isolation had gone unnoticed, students like Yoshida and Katsuragi cast concerned glances her way, but given the nature of the exam and the constant friction between teams, no one could afford to carelessly extend a helping hand.

“I can barely stomach watching this,” Yoshida muttered. “They keep hiding behind excuses like ‘strategy’ and ‘team policy,’ but isn't this going a bit too far? Does Shinohara have some kind of vendetta against Kushida?”

“If you observe her boyfriend's attitude, it's not entirely incomprehensible. His eyes are constantly chasing after Kushida Kikyō, after all,” Morishita noted.

“You mean Ike? ...Are you saying he's comparing her to Shinohara or something?” Yoshida shot Morishita a skeptical look, clearly thinking she was reading too much into it.

“Even you would hate it if your girlfriend was mesmerized by another man, right, Yoshida so-and-so? Oh, wait, since you don't have a girlfriend and never will, that might be too hard for you to grasp.”

8

“Shut up. Don't just casually spit venom at me,” he grumbled. “...Though, if that were true, yeah, I'd definitely hate it.”

Even without a girlfriend of his own, he could easily imagine how much that would sting.

“But it can't really be helped, can it? I mean, between Kushida and Shinohara, they're just on entirely different levels, or rather…”

“That line of thinking makes you absolute trash, Yoshida so-and-so.”

“Stop with the ‘so-and-so’ already. At least call me Kenta. If you're going to use my full name, that is.”

Those two seemed convinced that Shinohara had isolated Kushida, but the reality was likely quite different. It was far more probable that Kushida was intentionally distancing herself, carefully orchestrating her own isolation.

She was playing the tragic heroine to the hilt, monopolizing the sympathetic gazes of everyone around her. Her goal was simple: to firmly establish Shinohara as the villain unless she coughed up some tokens to make amends. It was a brazen, all-or-nothing tactic, and whether it would actually work on Shinohara remained to be seen.

“Ayanokōji-kun. Nishikawa-san is requesting to contact you via the radio,” the supervisor said.

6

I had been curious to see what Nishikawa would do after I’d given her a day to mull things over. So she was already reaching out again, huh?

I accepted the radio handed to me by the supervisor.

“Is she calling to confirm Shiraishi Asuka's survival again?” Morishita asked.

“Huh? What about Shiraishi?” Yoshida chimed in.

"Please do not butt into the conversation without permission. Having you listen in will only make things unnecessarily complicated, Kenta Yoshida."

“Why is my first name first!?”

3

Leaving Morishita to handle Yoshida— no, rather, leaving Yoshida to handle Morishita— I stepped a short distance away to take the call.

Ultimately, her questions were identical to the ones she’d asked the other day: she wanted to verify Shiraishi's token count and needed reassurance that the girl was absolutely safe. My answer hadn't changed, but the situation certainly had. I told her over the radio to sit tight just a little longer, assuring her that within a few hours, I would arrange an outcome she would find acceptable.

5

Once everyone had finished their lunch, I returned the radio to the supervisor.

I then made my way back to Class C, who were already packing up.

“That was quite a long talk. Did Nishikawa Ryoko persistently cling to you?” Morishita asked.

“No, I was speaking with someone else about a separate matter.”

“A separate matter? I see, so Ayanokōji Kiyotaka has finally made his move?”

1

Morishita's gaze sharpened slightly. I had expected her to follow up with one of her usual nonsensical jokes, but it seemed I was mistaken.

“You don't need to hide it,” she continued. “This special exam has felt a bit too ordinary, or rather, devoid of any significant developments. I had a sneaking suspicion you were just biding your time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.”

4

For all her eccentricities and goofing around, she truly possessed a sharp mind beneath the surface.

“Yes, I did let an arrow loose,” I admitted.

“Oho-ho-ho, an arrow, you say? And what exactly are we supposed to do from here on out?”

1

“Instructions haven't changed. As long as the groups are operating separately, your fundamental goal is simply to collect tokens in earnest. Even though there’s no restriction on transferring them, the moment a token changes hands, it’s treated as a back-side token. Therefore, all you need to focus on is tackling the tasks and acquiring as many front-side tokens as possible. That remains the most optimal path toward victory.”

“Indeed. Within Group 3, Ayanokōji Kiyotaka is undoubtedly a head above the rest and currently winning. Even if there's a student in a rival group who has amassed a similar number of front-side tokens, as long as you secure a 100% multiplier on the final day, you'll have a solid chance of clinching the win. Well, I suppose our opponents are banking on that exact same logic.”

“It's not a system that strictly demands overwhelmingly dominant individual scores,” I explained. “If anything, it’s designed so that any well-rounded student can amass a high number of front-side tokens depending on how the match-ups play out.”

Despite the structural elements of teams and groups, the exam was ultimately a framework where individual talent and effort directly translated into results. Overcomplicating the mechanics would only leave you overwhelmed.

“But that’s only if you're solely focused on winning,” I added. “The other face of this special exam is the severe weight of its penalties. The real test lies in devising a strategy to reliably avoid them.”

“Ah, so that's the kind of arrow you let loose… Well then, how exactly do you intend to avoid it?”

“That is still a secret.”

“Good grief. Do the higher-ups not understand that excessive secrecy only leads to unnecessary casualties?”

With a dismissive shrug, Morishita turned and walked away, looking as though she’d entirely lost interest in the topic.

“She backed down surprisingly easily,” I muttered to myself.

1

Or perhaps she judged that simply confirming I had set things in motion was enough.

Whether she trusted me or not, she was undeniably a difficult person to read.

The trials marched on, though the routine quickly grew monotonous. We were essentially just tackling tasks reminiscent of past special exams, scraping together whatever tokens we could across the three categories.

Naturally, the other students were fighting tooth and nail to secure every last token, but my focus had long since shifted past that stage. The total number of tokens in circulation had been fixed from the very beginning; the only variable was which group, which class, and which specific individuals they would ultimately fall to. To put it bluntly, I had already concluded that winning or losing the exam itself was little more than an added bonus.

The arrow I let loose now sped unerringly toward its destined victim.

Tomorrow, it would find its mark.

Before they even realized it, most of the students had already found their eyes drawn to its flight, quietly predicting how it would all end. Only a select few remained ignorant of what was coming.

If everything proceeded according to plan, the arrow would pierce its intended target, and the masses would emerge unscathed.

Yet there were always exceptions.

With so many eyes following its flight, it wouldn't be surprising if someone tried to snatch the arrow from the air before it struck.

1

By six o'clock that evening, we reached our final destination for the day and were finally granted a reprieve.

At that moment, Yoshida let out a heavy sigh, exhaling the day's accumulated exhaustion all at once.

“This is the last time we'll have to pitch these tents, isn't it?” Sanada asked.

“Sure feels like the end is finally in sight, but who knows?” Yoshida answered. “Even if this specific special exam wraps up tomorrow, there's always a chance the school keeps us out here on the uninhabited island.”

“I'd really prefer to hope... that isn't the case,” Sanada replied.

As I listened to their exchange, movement caught the corner of my eye. Shinohara was marching off with Kushida in tow, with Ike and Mii-chan trailing slightly behind them. They began setting up their camp a considerable distance away from the rest of us.

Of the four classes in our group, only theirs was isolating itself to such an extreme degree.

“What's with that? What are those guys doing?” Yoshida muttered, following my gaze.

“Perhaps they're dissatisfied with having outsiders meddle in Class A's policies,” Sanada suggested. “If they distance themselves that much, there's no way we can eavesdrop on their conversations.”

He was right. No matter how hard we strained our ears, picking up their voices from here would be impossible. And if anyone tried to close the gap, the attempt to make contact would be instantly obvious to Class A.

“That's definitely Shinohara's doing,” Yoshida concluded. “Let's just leave them be.”

After that, we slowly proceeded with our preparations, and by the time we finished eating dinner, darkness had fully settled over the surrounding area.

Mii-chan, who emerged from the vicinity of Class A's tents, scanned the area before her eyes locked onto mine.

Her gaze sent a clear, desperate signal: Help.

“Sorry, but I'll leave the rest of this to you for a bit,” I told Sanada. He willingly agreed, and I briskly made my way over to Mii-chan.

Seeing me approach, she jogged over to meet me halfway.

“This is about Shinohara and the others, isn't it?” I asked.

“...Yes,” she admitted. “Kushida-san begged them to share some tokens with her, but Shinohara-san completely refused to listen... They're arguing about it right now.”

“Understood. I'll go see what's going on.”

“Um, but... that might be a problem…” She stopped me, her expression fraught with guilt, and quietly began to explain why. “I was told to keep watch and make sure no one else comes near them. If anyone tried to approach, I was ordered to stop them at all costs... especially you, Ayanokōji-kun... Those were Shinohara-san's orders.”

4

Just as I suspected. Shinohara was highly vigilant against Kushida and me making contact. Ever since this special exam began, my stance of consistently evaluating Kushida highly while treating Shinohara and Ike with dismissive indifference had triggered her intense wariness. From her perspective, my motives were an unknown variable, so physically preventing us from interacting was the safest play. Given her limited options, it was probably the best strategy she could muster. Still, if I simply forced my way past here, the chances of Mii-chan becoming their next target weren't zero. I wanted to avoid that outcome.

“But... maybe I should let you go...? I just don't know what to do…”

Although we were technically functioning as a single, unified group, we spent the vast majority of our time segregated by class. It seemed the internal environment within Class A was considerably worse than it appeared on the surface.

1

Because the entrance to their tent was facing away from us, I couldn't get a read on the three of them from here.

“For now, I'll circle around through the trees and quietly check on the situation. Mii-chan, just stay here and keep playing the lookout.”

I instructed her to return to her post before slipping away into the forest. Moving swiftly through the cover of the trees, I looped around to the front of Shinohara's campsite. The two Class A tents were pitched side by side. I could see Shinohara and Ike standing just outside the one on the right.

Was Kushida… inside the tent?

At a quick glance, I couldn't see her anywhere, so I slowly shifted my angle until I had a clear line of sight into the tent's interior. That was when I realized exactly why I hadn't spotted her right away.

There at the entrance, Kushida was down on the ground in a full dogeza, prostrating herself entirely before Shinohara and Ike.

10

Looking down at her, Shinohara wore an expression of sheer, unadulterated delight.

2

I could only imagine the violent vortex of anger currently swirling inside Kushida's heart. But even with their campsite pitched an unusually far distance from the rest of the group, they were still in a shared area. If she carelessly raised her voice, or if her foul-mouthed true nature was exposed to a third party, all the effort she had spent endlessly enduring hardships to maintain her ‘good girl’ facade would come crumbling down in an instant.

It seemed she was utterly committed to acting the part of the humble, submissive victim from beginning to end, hoping to somehow smooth things over.

Knowing I couldn't carelessly call out to them either, I was trying to figure out my next move when Shinohara's jeers finally reached my ears. Because she was directing her vitriol down toward the tent, the exact words were muffled, but the sheer fury in her tone was unmistakable.

As I observed the situation from the shadows for a moment longer, I noticed another presence approaching the area.

Having grasped the gist of the conflict, I decided it would be best to slip back to the Class C tents before I was discovered.

Just shortly before Ayanokōji began circling through the trees, Shinohara’s festering suspicions had finally exploded into outright fury. She simply couldn’t let go of the incident on the second night, when it became glaringly obvious that their policy of cutting Kushida out of the tokens had been leaked to the other classes.

“You're the one who blabbed to everyone that I wasn't going to give you any tokens, didn’t you, Kushida-san?” Shinohara demanded. “Just admit it already.”

“I didn't…” Kushida pleaded. “No matter how much I deny it, you still won't believe me, will you...?”

“Then what? If there's someone else, who is it? Are you saying Mii-chan leaked it?”

“I don't know about that, but... it wasn't me. It would have to be either Mii-chan or Ike-kun.”

Despite her desperate denials, nothing could shake Shinohara’s absolute conviction that Kushida was the prime suspect.

“Satsuki,” Ike interjected hesitantly. “it doesn't feel like Kikyō-chan is lying, though…”

“Huh?” Shinohara turned on him at once. “Then who are you saying leaked it? It wasn't you, Kanji, was it?”

“Of course it wasn't! There's no way I'd do that!” Ike shook his head quickly, then searched for somewhere else to place the blame. “Look, maybe that Ayanokōji guy spread it around or something... You know he's capable of anything.”

5

“Listen to me,” Shinohara said sharply, “Even if that were true, Class A was the one who decided on this policy in the first place, right? Even if Ayanokōji-kun is involved, it still means one of our classmates had to leak the information to him first. Seriously, Kanji, you're such an idiot.”

“M-my bad…”

“Mii-chan hates Kushida-san, so she has no reason to leak it,” Shinohara pressed on. “Kushida-san is the only one who stands to benefit from making this public. The culprit was obvious from the very beginning.”

“But still, Kikyō-chan is smart enough to know you'd scold her if she carelessly leaked it, right?” Ike argued.

“She's trying to outsmart us! Kushida-san is supposed to be this brilliant, excellent student, isn't she?”

Unable to look directly at Kushida, who was sitting formally in a seiza position looking apologetic, Ike averted his gaze and squeezed out his voice.

“But you don't have solid proof it was Kikyō-chan, right? In that case—”

“Kikyō this, Kikyō that! that’s all you keep saying!” Shinohara’s anger burst out all at once. “Why are you so comfortable calling only Kushida-san by her first name!?”

“N-no...!”

It was a sudden, violent eruption of emotion. Ike panicked, choking on his words as he scrambled to formulate a defense. Before Shinohara could lay into him again, he forcefully talked over her.

“Even if you say that... I've called her that since way before you and I started dating…”

“Then you should just change it back to her last name starting right now!” Shinohara snapped. “I mean, seriously! Kushida-san is the one who called me ugly right in the middle of the classroom! She said those awful things to your own girlfriend, and you're still acting all buddy-buddy with her? Don't you think that's pathetic? It's embarrassing for me!”

5

Her eyes red and glaring, Shinohara snapped her gaze away from Ike and back down to Kushida.

“If you don't want to tell the truth, that's fine. I might not have hard proof that you betrayed us, but this relationship of trust is officially broken. Because of that, I can't give you any tokens anymore.”

After delivering that ultimatum, Shinohara forced a venomous smile.

“Or maybe you've already figured out a plan to avoid expulsion?” she continued. “Kushida-san is smart, after all. I wouldn't be surprised if you were out wagging your tail at guys other than Kanji, sweet-talking them into promising you their tokens.”

“I haven't done that…” Kushida whispered. “I haven't even thought about it…”

“This isn't like you, Satsuki... Just stop it already,” Ike pleaded.

“I said shut up! Why... why are you always defending someone like Kushida!?”

Dropping all honorifics, Shinohara dissolved into a hysterical fit. Ike couldn't hide the bewildered, helpless expression on his face.

“We're supposed to be comrades, aren't we?” Ike pressed. “You've been acting really strange ever since this special exam started, you know…”

Ike dropped his voice low, quickly warning her to quiet down. Even with this kind of distance, someone from another class was bound to hear her if she kept yelling.

“I can't help it! Kanji, Yoshida, Ayanokōji— all of you! You guys always just take Kushida's side!”

Rather than calming down at Ike's warning, Shinohara's emotions flared even higher.

“Your voice! You're being too loud!” Ike hissed.

Shinohara's chest heaved with ragged breaths. For several seconds she said nothing, only stood there trying to steady herself, until at last she dragged in a breath and violently brushed her disheveled bangs out of her face.

“Nobody is listening out here,” she said, her voice lower now but no less sharp. “so why don't you just show us your true colors, Kushida-san? You might feel a lot better if you do.”

“...Even if you tell me to show my true nature, it troubles me. I don't really have any intention of fighting with you, Shinohara-san…”

“Oh, really? Then why are you parading around like some tragic heroine? Making me out to be the villain. Why are you putting on this big show, whining ‘I can't get any tokens~’ to everyone?”

“That's just…” Kushida faltered, then corrected herself. “I just want you to keep your promise... No, I just want you to properly transfer my share of the tokens up until today. When I think about the fact that I might get expelled, I can't help but feel anxious…”

“Anxious?” Shinohara repeated. “Even though I told you I'd give them to you later? See, you really don't trust me after all.”

“...It's not that I don't trust you. But───”

“I've told you over, and over, and over again, haven't I?” Shinohara immediately cut her off. “I will definitely give you your tokens before we reach the goal. Until then, I'm just holding onto them for the sake of adjustments. Get that through your head already.”

‘Adjustments’. It was a highly convenient excuse. She hadn't revealed a single detail about what this supposed strategy was or how it benefited anyone.

Naturally, Kushida understood what was actually happening. Her tokens were being confiscated purely out of spite; they were being held hostage as insurance to guarantee that Shinohara and Ike wouldn't be the ones expelled in a worst-case scenario. Forced to endure this one-sided oppression, Kushida's own frustration had to be boiling over. Yet, she didn't simply explode in a fit of rage like Shinohara. Even though their camp was isolated, they were still relatively close to the others. There was no telling when someone might wander by and see her.

“In the first place,” Shinohara continued, “this is all your fault for insulting me in front of everyone. You're at least aware of that much, aren’t you?” Shinohara demanded.

“...You're right,” Kushida replied. “I'm truly reflecting on my actions regarding that…”

1

“Hmph. If you're really so sorry, then show me some actual sincerity for starting all this.”

“Sincerity...?” Kushida asked quietly. “Is it enough if I quietly leave the tokens in your care until just before the goal?”

At Kushida's questioning words, Shinohara let out a derisive snort, rejecting the idea entirely before thrusting her true demand forward.

“People might make fun of me for this, and maybe it is a bit unreasonable. But everyone has a line they absolutely will not let someone cross, right? Kushida-san, you crossed that line. I think an appropriate display of submission is necessary.”

With that, Shinohara pointed down at the dirt floor inside the tent.

“Then get down and do a dogeza right here in front of me. As proof that you trust me. Me, of all people.”

2

It was a demand that truly crossed the line. For a split second, both Kushida's expression and her heart completely froze.

Shocked by the absurdly cruel ultimatum, Ike reached out to touch Shinohara's shoulder to soothe her, but she violently brushed his hand away.

“Can you do it?” Shinohara asked. “Or not?”

It was, in essence, a forceful binary choice: Do you want your tokens or not?

For Kushida, there was no room to choose.

“I beg of you... please believe me───”

Placing her hands on the ground, she lowered her head deeply, executing a flawless, beautiful dogeza at Shinohara's feet.

It was a deeply humiliating posture. Yet, far from being satisfied, Shinohara found an unspeakable irritation swelling inside her.

For Shinohara, it was an unbearable reality that even while groveling in the dirt, a posture meant to be ugly and degrading, Kushida still looked infinitely more poised and put-together than she ever could.

4

“...Somehow, I'm just not feeling any heartfelt sincerity in that. I mean, you have two different faces, right, Kushida-san? You must be so pissed off at me right now you can hardly stand it.”

It wasn't as if Kushida's mere existence was causing Shinohara any direct harm. Ike's feelings for Shinohara were genuine, and nothing romantic had ever actually happened between him and Kushida.

Even so, Shinohara was consumed by a suffocating inferiority complex, the inescapable feeling that she was lesser in every conceivable way, from her face and her intelligence to the very curves of her body. It was a merciless reality; even after learning just how rotten Kushida was on the inside, it was no wonder Ike still found himself captivated by her.

4

Shinohara knew this. She knew that if they competed on an even playing field, she could never win. It was an insurmountable gap in natural-born gifts. Therefore, her only recourse was to leverage her position and power to forcefully grind Kushida down into the dirt.

“That's not true…” Kushida pleaded, still bowing low. “Please, you have to believe me…”

The words repeated themselves. Shinohara knew full well those words were completely hollow. The true, venomous nature Kushida had exposed during the Unanimous Special Exam had been far too intense to ever forget.

But it was also true that she couldn't force her to stay in a dogeza forever. She had to consider when to pull back.

“Aren't you a good girl, groveling so obediently like that?” Shinohara said at last. “...Yeah, I get it. I'll give you the tokens just as promised. But it's going to be right before the goal on the final day. Right before transfers become impossible, that is.”

Within Group 3, the most likely candidates to finish dead last in tokens were Ibuki and Kushida.

From Shinohara's perspective, as long as she crossed the finish line with even a single token more than either of them, she was 100% guaranteed to survive this special exam.

As for Ibuki, Katsuragi was currently clamping down on her for failing to produce results, but there was no telling when or if he might step in to save her at the last minute. Shinohara needed to hoard as much insurance as she possibly could.

1

“Is this... enough now?” Kushida asked quietly. “Someone might come by…”

“No,” Shinohara ordered. “Stay exactly like that for one more minute. Still, it really is a shame we don't have our phones on us, right, Kanji?”

1

“N-no... how should I put it,” Ike’s voice faltered. “aren't you going a bit too far? At this point, it's just bullying…”

1

“Huh?” Shinohara’s anger, which had only barely begun to settle, flared again in an instant. She turned on him with a glare. “What about the humiliation I suffered? That was bullying too, wasn’t it? Why do you keep taking her side?”

“You prefer Kushida over me, don’t you?” Her voice rose, sharp and unstable. “That’s it, isn’t it!?”

“N-No! I'm telling you, it's not like that!”

With his face twitching at her unstoppable rampage, Ike cautiously touched her shoulder again in a desperate bid to calm her down.

“Hey— what kind of sickening game are you guys playing?”

An unusually low, entirely deadpan voice suddenly echoed from the darkness behind them.

Ike panicked, grabbing the hand of Kushida who was still in a dogeza, trying to haul her to her feet, but it was too late. Ibuki, who had circled around to investigate the noise, had a crystal-clear view of Kushida groveling on the floor of the tent.

“...Huh?” Shinohara stammered. “What... what are you talking about, Ibuki-san?”

“About that dogeza.” Ibuki’s gaze remained flat. “You guys are supposed to be allies, aren't you?”

“This was something Kushida-san did voluntarily,” Shinohara said quickly. “Right, Kanji?”

“W-Well, yeah…” Ike answered with lacked conviction. “Something like that... Wait, why the hell are you even here, Ibuki!?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? I was just taking a walk when I heard all that ‘gyaa gyaa’ yelling, so I came to take a look.”

After saying that, Ibuki added, as though she had suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, by the way, I already know all about Kushida's true nature, so don't sweat it. The girl has a genuinely piss-off personality, so I totally get the urge to make her grovel.”

Hearing her casually touch upon the secret they were most desperate to protect, Shinohara and Ike exchanged terrified glances.

“W-What, you knew...?” Ike asked. “Wait, do the other guys in Class B know, too?”

“Pretty sure they don't,” Ibuki replied. “So that little secret you're trying so hard to protect is safe. However—”

Not breaking her stride, Ibuki looked away from Kushida and stepped right in front of Shinohara.

“What is it?” Shinohara snapped, defensive. “Do you have a problem with me? You just said you understood how I felt, didn't you?”

“Well, yeah. If I made Kushida grovel, I'd probably feel pretty damn good about it, too. But I just realized that watching someone else make her do it is incredibly obnoxious. Anyway, why don't you get up already?”

3

“...Just leave us alone, Ibuki-san,” Kushida finally spoke up, her voice calm. “This is an internal Class A matter. It has nothing to do with you.” Then she turned her words toward Shinohara. “And don't worry, Shinohara-san. Ibuki-san really does know about me, so you don't need to worry.”

Hearing that, Shinohara's resentment cooled slightly, allowing her to regain a measure of composure. The fact that Ibuki had wandered over meant other students might follow soon. If word of this dogeza leaked to the rest of the camp, it would only spell trouble for Shinohara and Ike.

“I’m glad you’re on my side, Kushida-san,” Shinohara said, her voice returning to something closer to calm. “Come on, Kanji. Let’s go back to everyone else.”

“...Y-yeah.”

Still harboring a visible knot of guilt, Ike let Shinohara grab his hand and drag him hurriedly away into the dark.

Ibuki watched them leave, then looked back at Kushida.

“I went out of my way to save your ass, and you tell me to ‘leave you alone’?” She scoffed at Kushida. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I'm just fighting desperately to survive in my own way,” Kushida replied flatly. “As long as Shinohara holds the actual power over the tokens, I have to do whatever it takes, right?”

“And ‘whatever it takes’ means kissing the dirt? Do you have zero pride?”

“I’m fighting because I do have pride. I suppose you wouldn’t understand that, Ibuki-san.” Kushida rose slowly, touching her knees as though soothing the ache left by the position she had been forced to hold. “Sorry, but if something happens from here on, could you not interfere? Even if I look miserable right now, it’s still better than being expelled. If I obey those two, I can get more tokens than you. In that case, something like this isn’t a big deal.”

“I see.” Ibuki’s expression twisted faintly. “Now that you mention it, you were always thick-skinned.”

Kushida stepped out of the tent, then turned her back as if the conversation no longer mattered.

“You should try harder too, Ibuki-san,” she said. “Otherwise you’ll be expelled.”

“Shut up. I know that.”

“Could it be that you've half-given up?”

Ibuki, who had already turned to head back to her own tent, froze mid-step.

“I haven't given up or anyth—”

“That's fine. Honestly, if you end up dropping out, my chances of survival go up by exactly that much.”

With a small, dismissive scoff over her shoulder, Kushida walked away into the night.

“What a total bitch. I never should've called out to her,” Ibuki muttered to herself in the empty clearing.

Even after spitting those words out into the dark, she couldn't bring herself to move from that spot. She was irritated, certainly. But it wasn't just anger.

Shinohara's distorted, petty obsession. The spineless half-measures of Ike, who couldn't bring himself to properly stop her. And that infuriatingly pragmatic attitude of Kushida's.

2

She despised all of it. Every single part of this situation pissed her off. But what angered her the most right now was her own existence.

If this were a problem she could solve just by punching it, things would be easy. But this special exam... this wasn't something she could just fight her way through. She couldn't subdue it with physical violence, nor could she bulldoze through it with sheer stubborn emotion. It was a deeply frustrating, suffocating school life.

To survive, she had no choice but to think. Yet she never expected the act of thinking itself to be this troublesome and infuriating.

She clicked her tongue once and dropped her gaze to the dirt.

She knew her token count was sinking straight to the bottom of the rankings. But even knowing that, she had no clear idea of what her next move should be.

Should I simply leave things in Katsuragi's hands? When it comes down to it, would he save me in the end, saying it couldn't be helped?

No. She didn't possess that kind of value.

Then should I take matters into my own hands and seize an opportunity myself?

In this exam, someone was absolutely going to be expelled. That harsh reality was why Kushida was fighting so ruthlessly, not even hesitating to do a dogeza.

I couldn't find an answer. Or perhaps─── I already had.

“...There's no point in me clinging to this school if it means obsessing over crap like this,” she whispered into the empty air. “I'm just hopelessly unsuited for this place.”

3

Spitting out that quiet realization, Ibuki finally forced her feet to move.

Afterward, Shinohara strolled back over to the rest of the group, wearing a perfectly innocent expression as she joined in on the idle chatter. Her expression gave nothing away. She chatted lightly, wearing the same casual face as before, and then confirmed with her own eyes that Ayanokōji was still there, speaking amiably with Yoshida.

A few seconds later, Ike arrived as well.

Unlike Shinohara, he could not quite conceal what had happened. His steps were restless, his movements faintly unsettled, as if some part of him were still caught back at the tent.

“Thanks, Mii-chan. It looks like Ayanokōji-kun didn't make a move after all,” Shinohara whispered.

“Y-yes,” Mii-chan replied hesitantly.

A few minutes later, Kushida emerged from the tent. Having properly dusted herself off and fixed her appearance, she wore her usual, impeccably bright expression.

Are you okay? Mii-chan desperately wanted to ask her that softly, but with Shinohara standing nearby, wearing a smug, triumphant smile as she kept a watchful eye on them, she didn't dare to speak up.

“Shinohara-san, you have an incoming call from Horikita-san,” Urushihara called out, approaching their group.

“From Horikita-san...?” Mii-chan murmured.

“...Looks like it,” Shinohara replied.

During the first radio check-in, Shinohara had been deeply irritated that Horikita had contacted Kushida instead of her. Because of that, she had forced Kushida to tell Horikita to direct all future communications to the actual group representative, meaning her. Seeing that demand finally come to fruition filled her with a petty, lingering sense of joy.

1

Right before accepting the radio from the supervisor, Shinohara reached out and tightly clamped her hand around Kushida's wrist just as the girl tried to turn away.

“Don't try anything funny that might betray me, okay?” she said in a low voice. “If you do, I'll expose your true colors to everyone here.”

“I know,” Kushida replied softly. “I won't do anything like that.”

Shinohara was actively preempting her, aggressively tying down Kushida's every word and action.

Even if Kushida somehow managed to secretly lay the groundwork to receive token assistance from someone else, the actual transfer of points would require direct physical proximity right in front of the others. Deceiving Shinohara during that critical moment would be a monumental task.

Here, on the night of the third day, Shinohara's resolve hardened. She decided right then and there that she absolutely would not take her eyes off Kushida until the very moment they crossed the final finish line. Whether it was someone from Class A, Ayanokōji, or some random student trying to earn Kushida's favor with an ulterior motive, it didn't matter who it was. The second anyone showed even the slightest sign of transferring tokens to her, Shinohara would intervene and shut it down.

If Kushida suddenly claimed she didn't need any tokens right before the goal, or if she refused to disclose her current count, Shinohara would instantly judge that a secret transfer had taken place. If that happened, she and Ike would simply keep the stockpile of tokens she was supposedly ‘managing’ for Kushida and split it entirely between the two of them. By doing so, they could completely eliminate their own risk of finishing dead last in the school year.

Without even realizing it, Shinohara's twisted obsession with Kushida had continued to swell, completely eclipsing her concern over Ibuki, the person who was actually heavily favored to finish in last place.

“Sorry, Kanji, but keep a close eye on Kushida-san for a second.”

“U-understood.”

A moment later, she lifted the radio.

“Hello, Horikita-san? Do you need something?”

Answering the radio in incredibly high spirits, Shinohara broke into a smug grin and walked a short distance away. It was a deliberate, exclusionary display, a physical declaration that she was the one holding the reins of power in their group, and that mere underlings weren't allowed to eavesdrop on her conversation.

“Ike-kun... do you have a minute?” Kushida whispered.

She kept her voice just low enough to avoid arousing Shinohara's suspicion as she spoke to her newly appointed guard.

“Hm? W-what is it.”

“Shinohara-san really is going to share the tokens with me before we reach the goal... right?”

“...Of course she is,” Ike answered. “Seriously, there's nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, I trust Shinohara-san. I just... I just can't help feeling anxious. It's true that I said some awful things about her, but... I was desperate back then. There were so many things I said that I didn't truly mean.”

As she spoke, Kushida reached out and gently gripped the hem of Ike's jersey between her fingertips.

1

“K-Kikyō-chan!?” Ike’s voice nearly cracked. “If Satsuki catches us doing this, it'll be really bad...!”

5

“Don't move,” Kushida whispered. “Shinohara-san can't see us from here.”

It was a veiled threat. If they were caught, Kushida would undoubtedly incur more of Shinohara's wrath, but Ike would find himself equally in the firing line.

“I don’t have anyone else I can rely on anymore,” Kushida said. “It’s only you, Ike-kun...”

“I-It'll be fine,” Ike said quickly. “I promise, there is absolutely no way Satsuki would ever abandon you, Kikyō-chan.”

“Really...?”

“If Satsuki seriously tries to say she won't give you any tokens, I'll step in and set her straight. You can rest easy about that.” His expression tightened with guilt. “I'm sorry... making you grovel in the dirt like that was going way too far, no matter how you look at it...”

1

“No, it was my fault, too... But still, just hearing you say that... makes me so happy.”

Kushida paused for a brief moment. Then, with glistening, teary eyes, she looked up softly into his.

“If you come through and save me when it really matters, Ike-kun... then when that time comes... I'll do anything you want.”

6

“Eh───?”

1

He could feel the sweet warmth of her breath ghosting over his skin. A split second after Ike inhaled her scent, Kushida's fingertips slipped smoothly away from his jersey.

Shortly after, Shinohara returned, radio in hand. Completely oblivious to the exchange, she grabbed the arm of a visibly flustered Ike and practically dragged him briskly toward their tent.

“Listen to this, Kanji. Ayanokōji-kun is plotting something completely unbelievable.”

1

Hearing Ayanokōji's name leave Shinohara's smugly smiling lips, Ike's eyes went wide.

The four students of Class A had initially been huddled together in their own isolated camp, but the moment Shinohara finished her radio transmission, she dragged Ike a short distance away.

After retreating to their tent, the two began discussing something in secret, occasionally shooting glances in my direction. The fact that someone, no, the fact that Horikita had directly contacted Shinohara meant she had finally begun making moves as well.

Considering the timing, it was safe to assume Horikita had set this up fully expecting me to catch wind of it.

“She has definitely grown, slowly but surely,” I murmured to myself. “So in the end, she did reach out for the arrow.”

4

I was genuinely surprised. I had calculated that there was a greater than fifty percent chance she wouldn't attempt to stop the arrow mid flight.

No, it was still too early to tell.

I didn't know yet if Horikita's hand was actually meant to stop the arrow's flight, or if she was merely feigning the attempt. Either way, by making this very visible move, she was probing to see how I would react.

Right now, with Shinohara thoroughly distracted by whatever she'd heard over the radio, making contact with Kushida would be incredibly simple.

“Yoshida, come here for a second,” I called out.

“Hm? Oh, sure.”

Without even asking why I'd called him over, Yoshida pushed himself up and stepped out of our tent.

With him in tow, I walked directly over to Kushida.

“Could you give me just five minutes? There's something I want to ask you,” I said.

Kushida turned to face us. She immediately flashed her perfectly crafted smile and answered without a second's hesitation. “Sure.”

“Sorry Yoshida, but could you head back to the tent?” I said, turning to Yoshida. “I want to talk to Kushida alone.”

“Huh? Wait, then why did you even bring me...?” Yoshida replied, surprised. “Well, whatever.”

He tilted his head in mild confusion, but rather than pressing the issue, he simply turned around and headed back toward the Class C camp.

“That was pretty underhanded, using Yoshida-kun like that,” Kushida remarked quietly once he was out of earshot.

“If I hadn't gone that far, I figured there was a solid chance you wouldn't even entertain the conversation,” I replied.

Because I had approached her with Yoshida present, Kushida, who was always hyper-aware of public perception, had been forced to readily agree to my request to maintain her friendly facade. Now that she had publicly consented, she had no choice but to stand there and listen to what I had to say, whether she liked it or not.

2

“What is it now?” Kushida asked, her tone shifting to her usual brusque self once we were alone.

“It seems Shinohara still isn't willing to transfer the tokens to you.”

“Looks like she's holding a serious grudge over me calling her ugly, so I guess I can't really blame her. But honestly, part of me wants to say, ‘What's wrong with stating a fact’─── lol, nevermind.”

11

With a derisive snort, Kushida flicked her gaze over toward Shinohara's camp without turning her head.

The root cause of Shinohara's refusal to hand over the tokens seemed to stem entirely from the grudge she had harbored since the Unanimous Special Exam. Over by their tent, Shinohara, who had been keeping a close eye on our movements, had clearly noticed us talking. Ike tried to head over in our direction, but Shinohara grabbed his arm and stopped him with a laugh.

“The way Ike looks at me... completely unable to hide his gross ulterior motives... makes me sick,” Kushida muttered. “They really are a match made in heaven.”

6

Perhaps because I was the only one listening, she freely spat out her venom right here in the middle of the campsite.

“If you distance yourself from Ike, won't Shinohara calm down a bit?” I asked.

1

“Doing that would only buy me more of Shinohara's animosity. Besides, even if I wasn't making eyes at Ike right now, his attitude toward me wouldn't have changed, would it?”

That might be true. The fact that Ike had such a glaring soft spot for Kushida, combined with the fact that I actively valued her while treating Shinohara with dismissive indifference, were likely just acts that added fuel to a fire that had already been smoldering.

“Either way, in the worst-case scenario, I'll be abandoned. To prevent that, I have to think about not only pulling tokens from Shinohara, but from Ike as well. Even if I try relying on Mii-chan, well, since she doesn't like me, it's probably impossible.”

During the Unanimous Special Exam, Mii-chan's private romantic situation had been publicly dragged out into the open as a direct result of Kushida's rampage. Even though Mii-chan interacted with her normally now, it was a humiliating trauma she wouldn't soon forget. Although she suppressed her resentment enough to worry about Kushida, her position meant she likely couldn't transfer any tokens to her anyway. It was certain she couldn't be counted on.

“I know this sounds bitchy,” Kushida continued, “but part of the reason I'm struggling this much right now is because of you, Ayanokōji-kun. You praised me in front of everyone when our groups were first put together, didn't you? It seems like that's what originally lit the fire under her. Is this your way of getting payback because I held a grudge and refused to tell you who the VIP was during the Survival Game Special Exam?”

When I had slipped into the Class A campsite just barely within the time limit back then, I had made a brief contact with Kushida, silently confirming if she would tell me the VIP's identity. She had refused through her attitude alone. It was a silent visual exchange that lasted less than a few seconds. No one could have possibly noticed it.

5

“I thought you were just hesitating about whose side to take,” I said. “Weren't you afraid I would expose your true nature to the others? If the entire school finds out, you'll have no place left here.”

“It's far too late for that. The people in my class already hold my secret anyway.”

In reality, Kushida had allowed herself to be completely controlled and rendered powerless by someone like Shinohara. But that wasn't the whole story. Clearly, her internal evaluation of Horikita had begun to shift, and her own way of thinking was gradually changing along with it. Not that she would ever admit it if I pointed it out.

“I didn't intend it as payback,” I told her. “What happened with Shinohara was entirely unintentional.”

“Well, if you tell me that I'm the one who sowed the seeds of this mess in the first place, I can't exactly argue back. Anyway, what's clear right now is that neither Shinohara nor Mii-chan are going to take my side. Given that, my only option is to rope in at least Ike and persuade him into transferring his tokens to me.”

There seemed to be an extraordinary resolve and determination in her expression.

“You have a look on your face that says you'll do absolutely anything.”

“Damn right I will,” she said flatly. “I'll even let him grope my breasts if that's what it takes. Even that idiot would hand over some tokens after that, wouldn't he?”

1

“That would probably be extremely effective.”

5

If she went that far, wringing out not just one or two, but ten or twenty tokens wouldn't be impossible.

1

“It seems a trump card like that didn't work on a certain someone, though,” she added, shooting me a cold, sideways glare for a fraction of a second.

3

It felt like a lifetime ago now, but of course, I remembered that incident perfectly well.

6

Kushida claimed her trump card had no effect, but that was strictly regarding the outcome involving my fingerprints and everything that followed.

1

If we were purely talking about my state of mind at the time... well, it had certainly been plenty effective for a healthy high school boy.

8

“If Ike ends up sacrificing his own tokens for my sake, Shinohara won't have a choice but to help him in the end, even if she's pissed about it. Making a move like that might completely cement them as my enemies here and now, but surviving this special exam takes priority. If Ike alone isn't enough, I'll go after Yoshida or Sonoda. In the worst-case scenario, I'll just shift my target to them.”

That meant if push came to shove, she was fully prepared to use the same physical trump card she had planned for Ike on students from entirely different classes. Of course, if she misread her target's personality, it could easily escalate into a serious incident, exponentially inflating the risk.

“I'll ask just in case, but... you have no intention of actually helping me, right, Ayanokōji-kun?”

“In exchange, are you willing to offer me that trump card— your body— again?”

13

When I asked her back with a completely straight face, Kushida froze for a split second before her jaw dropped.

“H-Hah!? W-What kind of stupid crap are you spouting!? Like hell I would!”

3

“I thought you were perfectly willing to throw away your dignity if it meant making Ike and the others fall for it?”

“...That's... well, because those guys are practically garbage... and they're incredibly simple-minded? Or rather, you're just messing with me, aren't you? You aren't actually going to help me, Ayanokōji-kun. Right?”

“Unfortunately for you, that's correct. I will produce results for my current class; that remains my absolute highest priority.”

2

“Then are we done here? I don't want to keep talking to you when you aren't even going to help me, only to gather more pointless hate from Shinohara. Just leave me alone.”

Saying that, Kushida instantly flipped her expression back into a perfectly crafted, bright smile. She offered a cheerful little wave, putting on a friendly show for anyone watching as she naturally distanced herself from me.

3

Whether things would actually play out as smoothly as she intended remained to be seen.

After all, the other party’s vault was considerably tough to crack.