"Looks like there's no point talking anymore." Matsushita used that line to end the meeting.
Horikita agreed as well. She nodded, stood up with Matsushita, and Ayanokoji—who had followed along without saying a single word, basically a little tagalong—blinked.
Maybe he hadn't fully caught up to what was happening, or maybe he was wondering when Housen and the others planned to make their move. Either way, he didn't look anxious. He simply followed Horikita and Matsushita out of the café.
Housen couldn't sit still anymore either—but not because he was worried the negotiation had failed. If anything, he looked pleased.
"Let's follow them, Nanase. The plan's starting."
Nanase nodded silently and followed behind him. But the way she looked at Housen's back carried a hint of pity. In the end, she still didn't say anything.
After they caught up, Housen quickened his pace, tailing behind Horikita's group.
"Alright, alright—deal if we can deal, whatever if we can't! My condition's simple. You give me two million private points, and I'll cooperate."
"Hmph." Horikita glanced back coldly, letting out a short scoff before continuing toward the dorms. "Still two million. So that's your real goal."
"Everything for points, and yet you're unbelievably short-sighted. Compared to Yukio—who's also doing it for points but can actually plan long-term—you're not even in the same league."
The moment she said Yukio's name, Housen's face went completely dark.
That memory—his head being grabbed and slammed into the wall by Yukio—flashed through him, and his expression twisted. Still, he didn't rush into violence. The school roads were covered in cameras; this wasn't the place to strike. Even with his anger warping his features, he didn't lose his basic restraint.
"Say whatever you want."
"But like that other senpai said—your second-year classes and our first-year classes, the other groups have all found teammates already."
"If you don't pay up, then go ahead and watch your classmates get expelled."
Horikita didn't even turn her head. Her voice stayed cool. "Even if I had two million, I could just find another first-year to cooperate with. Why would I hand it all to you? It's not like we don't have options this time."
"..."
Housen fell silent for a long while. The group kept walking until they reached the fork where the first-year dorm building (the previous third-year dorm) split from the second-year dorm building—right before they'd separate.
Only then did Housen speak again, as if suddenly conceding.
"Fine. I'll agree to it."
"Hm?" Horikita and Matsushita exchanged looks. He changed his mind? Really?
But they both stopped instinctively. If they could finish teaming up without spending points, that was still ideal.
So they turned back together, facing Housen. Only Ayanokoji remained silent, waiting—waiting for Tsukishiro's plan to finally come.
"Don't look so confused." Housen pointed toward the small grove inside the fork. "Negotiations are just pushing and probing, trying to squeeze the other side's bottom line. That's all."
"It's not that I have no sincerity. I just want to maximize profit for my class. That's not too much, is it? Every class thinks like that, right?"
"Talking out here isn't smart. Someone could overhear us."
"Let's go in and talk again properly. This time, I won't ask for points."
"Ten minutes," Horikita said flatly.
And just like that, they walked into the dark little grove—an area with no surveillance cameras.
When they'd gone deep enough and could be sure nobody was nearby, Horikita and Matsushita faced Housen, waiting to hear how he intended to "cooperate" now that he'd supposedly changed his mind.
Ayanokoji watched Housen as well.
Nanase, meanwhile, didn't seem to care about the negotiation at all. She kept scanning around, as if searching for something.
And high up in the distance, on a treetop branch—Yukio and Amasawa sat there steadily, like VIP seats in a theater, watching everything below at a glance.
"So your plan's starting?" Yukio asked, like he was just here for the show.
Amasawa was as lively as ever. Even sitting on a branch, she couldn't stay still—she toyed with her twin ponytails while lowering her voice.
"They're in the no-camera zone. So yeah… it's probably starting now."
…
As early as the second day of the new school year—when Amasawa went to the student council—she had already learned the details of the cross-grade team-up special exam from Tsukishiro.
The first-years Tsukishiro summoned were all smart kids. One look at the exam rules and they understood: as long as you find a way to team up with Kiyotaka Ayanokoji, then turn in a blank paper and score zero, you can kick Ayanokoji out.
But here's the problem: If they were all smart, then who would be willing to give up three months of private points? That was a huge loss.
Yes, if they successfully expelled Ayanokoji, they could receive twenty million private points from Tsukishiro.
But every little bit helps. Nobody wanted to throw away three months' worth of points for nothing.
And besides—If they just followed the special exam exactly the way Tsukishiro designed it, wouldn't that make them look like obedient idiots?
If they came up with a new plan to get Ayanokoji expelled, then Tsukishiro would be satisfied, right?
So the smart first-years discussed a plan on the spot.
The outline went like this: First, they'd make sure Year 2 Class D couldn't find teammates. Every first-year class would keep Year 2 Class D on the hook—no matter what conditions Class D offered, they wouldn't agree.
After dragging it out for a day or two, Amasawa would step in with an excuse like "I like food cooked by a boy with his own hands"—or something similar.
Then they'd make Ayanokoji the one who had to satisfy that excuse. Amasawa would specify the menu and the tools, and that would naturally force Ayanokoji to spend points—leaving proof like camera footage, store receipts, and the like—that he purchased a brand-new knife.
After that, Amasawa—or someone else—would steal the knife from Ayanokoji's dorm, hand it to the short-tempered Housen…
Housen would go pick a fight with Year 2 Class D, and then—at the end—stab himself.
And finally, they'd frame Ayanokoji as the one who did it, getting him expelled.
That was the plan the first-years produced—after a bit under half an hour—a whole chain of steps: keeping people hanging, tricking someone into buying a knife, self-stabbing, framing… ridiculously complicated.
It sounded like it could work.
…
Watching the dim grove—Housen preparing to execute the plan in secret, Nanase standing guard nearby, Ayanokoji on alert, and Horikita and Matsushita completely unaware of the real situation…
Yukio, sitting up in the tree, let out a long breath.
"So… self-styled smartasses."
"They could've just done it the simple way Tsukishiro designed—no matter which first-year Ayanokoji teamed with, that first-year turns in a blank paper on purpose, then after taking the twenty million, they split off a million and it's done fast."
"So why the hell did they have to make it this messy, complicated, and inefficient?"