The morning of the second day of the special exam. Even on this uninhabited island, my mornings come early.
From this unobstructed stretch of beach, I had predicted the sunrise would possess an exceptional beauty. When I step out of the tent, it greets me exactly as expected.
I bathe in its light and stretch repeatedly, loosening my tense body and improving circulation throughout.
I spent the night in a sleeping bag comfortable enough to allow decent rest, so there is no muscle soreness from sleeping on hard ground.
"They must have partied late into the night—everyone's sleeping so soundly despite the circumstances."
Inside the tent, I could hear murmurs and steady breathing.
Yesterday they stayed up late, getting carried away around the campfire, so they're probably still short on sleep.
Unlike me, they're still growing. They need their rest, so I have no intention of waking them.
"Boring."
The sunrise alone gazes down at me in serene indifference.
Its brilliance is incomparable to a mere flashlight, so I shield my eyes with my hand.
How many times must I say this word? I passed the point of simple boredom long ago. Perhaps, deep down, I truly crave the unknown.
Yet even knowing how predictable it all is, there are still things that must be done.
Hydration, for instance. I am, after all, human—activity requires water.
I cross the sunlit beach and reach the tent storing food and drink. Opening the cooler box, I take a single bottle from the chaotic pile of meat, portable rations, beverages, and ice packs, then drink deeply.
The cold, smooth flow courses through me. Once it has circulated fully, it's time for food. But the bland portable rations hold no appeal this early.
"Perhaps a change of pace…"
To kill time, I take the fishing line and bait Ryuuen had purchased with points and head toward the river.
Along the way, I spot scattered nuts and fruits and pick a few.
By the time I've decided what dish to make, I've already reached the river without issue. I sit on a suitable rock and cast the line.
But—it hardly seems worth narrating.
The moment the baited hook hits the water, a fish strikes within seconds.
It happens again and again.
In just two minutes, the bucket is filled with fish.
Boring. I didn't even need angling talent; sheer luck talent was enough.
In the end, it provided no change of pace at all. I simply retrace my steps and return.
"I knew you'd be awake."
When I reach the beach again, Ryuuen is there to greet me.
There are no dark circles under his eyes, and he shows no trace of sleepiness—he seems strong in the mornings.
"Want some?"
I walk straight up to him and show him the fish I just caught.
"Feed me."
"I'll charcoal-grill them. Mind if I borrow the barbecue set?"
"Go ahead."
With his permission, I begin preparing the fish.
While I work, Ryuuen doesn't simply wait. He takes the key card and leaves the area.
—Spot occupation. He appears to be living extravagantly, yet he's steadily securing points.
At this stage, we've claimed only one spot, so he'll be back soon.
"A reward for growth—shall I consider it that way?"
He still can't satisfy me, but I contemplate a small reward for the possibility that he possesses considerable talent beyond mere courage.
I have no real desire to celebrate. Calling it "expectation for the future" is probably just an excuse to look away from my own all-too-accurate vision.
"…It seems even I am bound in unexpected ways."
I discard the self-mocking thought and take out six golf-ball-sized pieces of charcoal.
I place one piece beneath the head, body, and tail of each fish—six in total for the two fish—then light them effortlessly.
I don't place the fish yet. I heat the wire grill thoroughly first, and while it warms, I clean the guts and blood from the fish and skewer them.
A few minutes later, judging the grill sufficiently hot, I lay the two fish across it.
The flames were too strong, so I remove a few charcoals to lower the heat, then use the remaining time to prepare side dishes and seasoning.
"Smells damn good."
A few minutes after grilling begins, a rich, savory aroma spreads through the air.
It's probably coincidence, not the smell, that brings Ryuuen back at the perfect moment.
"Making me work first thing in the morning, huh?"
Dressed in his jersey, he says this while attempting to sprawl on the beach chair just like yesterday.
"Help me."
"…That's what you say to someone already working since dawn?"
Despite the complaint, he stands immediately and retrieves two paper plates and two pairs of disposable chopsticks from a separate storage box.
"Kuku. I've been waiting for this."
I transfer the finished grilled fish to the plates.
I carry water and the fish to the table beneath the parasol and sit in a beach chair.
Without any pretense of manners, we both dig in.
But partway through, Ryuuen's chopsticks stop moving.
"It looks delicious."
"…Hiyori, don't scare people like that."
The person who suddenly appears from Ryuuen's blind spot is the laid-back book-loving girl, Shiina.
Her eyes—sharp with analytical prowess—fix on the grilled fish.
"I'm sorry. But when something smells this mouthwatering, you can't help wanting to see it up close, right?"
Unable to resist her appetite, she deliberately masked her presence and approached.
She slipped past Ryuuen's detection entirely—proof of considerable skill. That alone offers a tiny sliver of the unknown.
"So, what do you want…?" He pauses. "…Actually, never mind."
Ryuuen glances at me briefly, sees me quietly enjoying my fish, and reluctantly begins portioning his own with his chopsticks.
"Get your own plate and chopsticks."
Though he speaks gruffly, Shiina's eyes sparkle as she eagerly dashes back and forth to the storage box.
The girl who anxiously consulted me about her athletic ability before the exam is nowhere to be seen; she returns with light, quick steps, plate and chopsticks in hand.
"Fufu, I could easily finish a whole fish like this."
"Ha. You're a bigger eater than you look, huh?"
"…I'm not greedy about food."
"Really? Word is you stuffed yourself with sakura mochi."
"…Where did you hear that?"
For a moment I thought he was being gentlemanly, but no—this is Ryuuen Kakeru after all.
He casually steps on the ultimate landmine... a woman's weight.
"And the clincher was yesterday. Every girl changed into swimsuits and played in the water—except you, who turned down the invitation because you 'didn't want to show skin.'"
"…I refused because I'm bad at sports."
While chewing my grilled fish, I silently compare Shiina's gentle smile (which is actually a glare) with Ryuuen's relaxed smirk.
His boldness in probing unnecessary topics is impressive, but this time he's clearly picked the wrong opponent.
"…Fufu. Ryuuen-kun, there's no need to portion it anymore." Her voice sweetens. "I'll feed you myself."
An invisible pressure radiates from the usually soft, ethereal beauty.
Despite her gentle smile, an intimidation bordering on killing intent presses in.
"…Kuku. I'll pass for now."
"You should accept a girl's kindness."
Even Ryuuen realizes he's stepped on a landmine he shouldn't have and refuses.
"You'd find it easier if you just gave up."
"That 'easier' carries quite a loaded meaning."
"Loaded meaning? Ryuuen-kun, you're surprisingly well-read. Shall we read together sometime?"
Regardless, what could possibly make the normally gentle Shiina this angry? For her to bite back so fiercely, there must be a significant reason.
The question piques my mild curiosity. To analyze it, I organize my thoughts.
To reach the truth beyond, I place an avatar of myself on a snowboard-like construct in my mind and begin gliding down the mental pathway.
As I advance, a fork appears, so I ease my speed slightly.
"How does Hiyori Shiina spend her holidays? Reading books in her dorm room. How many hours?"
→ A: About 3 hours
→ B: About 5 hours
→ C: About 7 hours
Without hesitation, I choose route C.
She sometimes reads late into the night, and even before classes start in the morning, she devotes time to reading.
She is that much of a bookworm. I am certain this is correct.
As if confirming the answer, a sound hinting at correctness echoes somewhere in my mind.
I continue forward, navigating the complex path with precise control.
Soon another fork appears—this time with only two branches.
"Does Hiyori Shiina, who wants to fully enjoy her holidays, generally leave her dorm room?"
→ A: Yes
→ B: No
There is no direct information. Yet based on the previous reading time, the answer is obvious.
—I choose route B.
The path straightens. I glide smoothly to the end, and the same confirmatory sound rings in my mind.
(Because she is absorbed in books, she stays in her dorm room on holidays. Thus, she has no opportunity for exercise. Eating the meals I cook increases her intake, and her weight rises steadily. Therefore, she wished to avoid exposing her skin.)
—This is the truth behind the question.
Having dived deep into logical thought, I return my awareness to reality and reach this conclusion silently.
It wasn't a particularly high-level puzzle, but after a long while thinking at a leisurely pace and arriving at the correct answer, I feel faintly refreshed.
"Here, Ryuuen-kun. Say 'ahh.' Ahh~"
"…Oi, Kamukura. Do something about this."
Shiina wearing a beaming smile tries to force the chopsticks holding fish toward Ryuuen's mouth.
He grabs her wrist to resist, but the strength is feeble—almost playful.
"Fufu. Kamukura-kun, would you like me to feed you too?"
"No, thank you. I'm full from my own portion."
"That's what he says, Ryuuen-kun."
Her voice is chillingly cold, a stark contrast to the warm smile that usually softens everyone around her.
The tone is completely opposite the gentle one I heard from her on the bench yesterday—this, too, is a small unknown.
"Not a bad view, all things considered."
"You…!"
In the end, an entire grilled fish is shoved into Ryuuen's mouth.
His personality—reviving again and again no matter how many times he's beaten down—could, from another angle, be seen as masochistic. The feeble resistance might stem from exactly that.
The new discovery lifts my mood ever so slightly.
…
8:00 a.m.—time for morning roll call, yet no one gathers.
There's simply no need. Class C currently holds 0 points. According to the rules of this exam, points cannot drop below zero, so there is nothing to lose.
The king's strategy proceeds smoothly.
Even Sakagami-sensei only needs to show his face for roll call; he must be inwardly relieved at how easy his job is.
"Komiya, Kondou."
The king, reclining on his beach chair, summons two of his pawns. I observe with only a shift of my eyes.
I instantly understand the grinning king's scheme.
It's so predictable that I grow bored and lie down on the beach chair beside him.
"Take these and go mock the Class D losers. Make sure they understand just how luxurious our spot is."
He hands them the bag of chips on the table and two unopened cans of soda.
One of the cans is mine, but I say nothing—I already knew he'd have Ishizaki retrieve it later.
"Y-Yes, sir!"
The two pawns reply in unison.
"To get to Class D, just go straight through that thicket over there."
"Ah—thank you!"
Feeling a touch of pity for them (they probably don't know the way), I point out the direction with my finger. They dash off toward it.
"Ishizaki."
As predicted, the tough-looking delinquent boy is called next.
He had been playing beach volleyball nearby with Albert and the others; at the king's summons, he hurries over in a slight panic.
Since the future unfolds exactly as foreseen, I feel no drowsiness, yet I close my eyes anyway.
"Bring two ice-cold bottles of water."
"Yes, sir!"
Like the previous pair, Ishizaki obeys without question and heads to the cooler box.
"He's not your friend?"
"That's only what he thinks."
I can't see the expression Ryuuen wore when he said those words—my eyes are closed.
But from the only clue I have, the tone of his voice, it doesn't sound like a lie.
When vision is taken away, even someone like me suffers a slight drop in judgment accuracy. I idly think it might make for a decent handicap.
"Then how come you don't hang out with your friends?"
"I don't have any friends."
"I see. Guess we've got that in common."
"You're overestimating yourself."
"You really get me, don't you?"
"I-I brought them!"
Ishizaki arrived, breathing hard.
The sandy path is far harder to run on than asphalt. The extra resistance makes his exhaustion understandable.
"Good work."
"Yessir!"
With that, he starts to leave—probably heading back to beach volleyball.
Before he can return to the group, I open my eyes and sit up in the beach chair.
"Ishizaki."
"W-What is it, Kamukura-san?"
"Let me join the beach volleyball game."
"Huh?"
The moment he hears my request, Ishizaki's eyes go wide and he freezes.
"Kuku. Oi, Kamukura. Don't tell me my earlier words actually got to you?"
"No. I simply thought of something I'd like to test."
"Test?"
"Whether I can play beach volleyball with both eyes closed… That's the experiment."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Ryuuen voices his frank disbelief with an exasperated look.
But I'm not joking.
"So, that's fine with you, right, Ishizaki?"
"Y-Yes, sir! Kamukura-san being able to do something like that is just awesome!"
"…What are you saying too, Ishizaki? Why aren't you doubting him?"
Leaving the perpetually stunned Ryuuen aside, I set down the ice-cold water bottles and head toward the group playing beach volleyball.
"You're fidgeting too much."
"S-Sorry. But playing like this with you feels so new, Kamukura-san."
As anyone can see, Ishizaki's attitude toward me remains unchanged.
The same goes for his attitude toward Ryuuen. After the violence incident, Komiya and Kondou received punishment and have since become frightened puppets, their fear of the king only growing stronger. Ishizaki, however, is the same as ever.
That's because he resisted enough during the incident to be exempt from punishment—a hidden circumstance.
"Hey, everyone! Kamukura-san's here, so now the numbers work out!"
We arrive at the spot where the net is set up.
Ishizaki announces it to Albert and the other two students.
With me included, there are six of us—perfect for rotating three teams.
"The bet's the same as before! We rotate, and the team with the worst record gets the penalty game."
Ishizaki says this with a laugh that somehow reminds me of Ryuuen.
"Then I'll team up with Kamukura-san, cool?"
"Hold it, Sonoda! I'm the one pairing with Kamukura-san."
"Don't screw around, Ishizaki. I'm done with penalty games. Besides, I was the odd one out today, so it's my turn, right?"
"…Tch, fine."
Before I can say anything, my teammate is decided for me.
It saves me the unnecessary effort, but honestly, it doesn't matter.
—No matter who my partner is, the result won't change.
"Then, pleased to be working with you, Kamukura-san! Oh, I'm Sonoda Masashi. Feel free to remember the name if you want."
"I already remember it."
I reply flatly to his greeting.
Sonoda Masashi. A student with unusually well-rounded abilities for Class C.
Yet, like the others, he has a very strong sense of self.
As seen just now, he casually trades banter with the intimidating Ishizaki, and around a month after enrollment he openly complained to Ryuuen without hesitation.
Of course, he's now just another pawn working under the king.
"First match can be us against Kamukura-san's team, yeah?"
"No problem, Ishizaki. We'll crush you."
Sonoda slams his fist into his open palm, brimming with determination as he declares it.
It seems the opening matchup is me and Sonoda versus Ishizaki and Albert.
"You stand out, you know."
"Yeah, you're the only one in a jersey!"
Only after stepping onto the court do I notice, belatedly, that I'm dressed differently from everyone else.
All the students here—and even Shiina this time—are in swimsuits.
"Don't blame me if you get dirty, Kamukura-san."
Ishizaki jokes cheerfully while holding the ball, grinning widely.
"I'll start with my eyes open, so any dirt will come after I close them."
"Huh? Close your eyes?"
Ignoring Sonoda's confusion, I do some light warm-ups.
"If I want to know the difference, a controlled comparison is the quickest way."
I'll play first with my eyes open, then closed.
That should show how much it changes things.
"Here we go!"
Ishizaki takes a run-up in what passes for proper form.
"Sei!"
His pathetic jump serve—barely getting off the ground, feet sinking into the sand—kicks off the match.
At the same moment, cheers erupt from the mixed crowd of boys and girls who have somehow gathered to watch.
The ball comes flying toward me.
I perfectly toss the slightly wobbly ball while taking a big backstep to create distance from the net.
"Take the first point… go ahead and finish it."
Sonoda is waiting at the drop point of my toss.
He raises it a bit high, setting it perfectly for my highest spiking reach.
I look up at the gently descending ball and fully utilize my beach volleyball talent.
To leap high on sand, a normal jump isn't enough. You need power from the hips and legs, not just the knees, to reach the maximum height.
"…OMG."
Albert lets out a dumbfounded exclamation at the sight of my jump.
—I coil my whole body like a spring and swing through.
"…Huh?"
Ishizaki, positioned at the target spot, can't even get into receive stance against the bullet-like spike. A few beats later, he lets out a bewildered yelp.
In that time, the ball whistles past his face.
My shot gouges the sand with force.
The crowd that had been cheering moments ago falls silent, staring at the deflated, punctured ball leaking air with a hiss.
.
.
.
I sit with my right leg propped up and my left dangling loosely. This posture somehow calms me.
"—Kukuhahahaha! So that's why they kicked you out!"
I, who had been participating in beach volleyball until moments ago, have now been banished from the court.
The reason is I got a little serious and ruptured the supplied ball.
Bursting one ball wouldn't normally get you banned—there were spares, after all.
But remember how these balls were obtained. And how many are left now?
—The answer is points. And our remaining points are 0.
It should be clear by now, if I continued, I'd destroy the second ball too. Even holding back.
That's why I was exiled from the court.
Being apologetically banned by Ishizaki, who usually looks at me with pure admiration, felt like a tiny sliver of the unknown.
"Kuku. I see, I see. So you've got a talent for comedy too, huh?"
I do possess it, but I can't honestly agree. It puts me in something close to a dilemma.
"Sports are better as individual events."
The murmur slips out unintentionally.
"Well, don't get depressed, Kamukura. It's about time the messengers from Class D show up. Let's bully the hell out of them."
"As if I'd bother with something that boring."
"Kuku, yeah? …Speak of the devil."
From the bushes just before the forest, the two pawns emerge, dragging along one boy with an overwhelmingly strong presence.
"Hmm. So he didn't retire on the first day."
"Yeah, figures. From the rumors about that guy, it's not surprising."
Without standing from my beach chair, I observe the visitor.
Tall stature—one of the traits said to make someone popular with girls. Muscles clearly defined even through his jersey. Above all, an expression brimming with confidence.
That man finally arrives in front of us.
"Kuku. You brought an interesting guy, Komiya, Kondou."
"!? S-Sorry! He just insisted on coming himself…"
"No skin off my back. Get lost already."
"Y-Yes, sir."
Even treated roughly, Komiya and Kondou say nothing in return and scurry away in fear.
"Hahaha, like the king of the mountain."
The striking blond—Kouenji Rokusuke—lets out his unchanging, arrogant laugh.
"Hey, hey, that's your opening line? Manners, young master."
"My apologies, naughty boy. I simply call everyone like you by that unified term. If you wish to be distinguished, won't you tell me your name?"
"Kuku. Calling me a naughty boy. Just as arrogant as the rumors say.
… I'll only say it once, so listen well, young master. I'm Ryuuen Kakeru, the 'king' of Class C."
Our king sits up in his beach chair, crosses his legs, and declares it.
From my perspective—having spent about four months with him—I can sense his presence has grown.
"Hmm. Then how about Dragon Boy?"
"Hahahahaha! …I'll kill you, bastard."
Kouenji's nickname is instantly rejected, igniting the short-tempered king's anger.
"It's easy to understand, isn't it? Why get so angry?"
"Because it's tasteless."
"Tasteless? What are you saying, Dragon Boy? There is no human on this earth with better naming sense than me."
He isn't lying… meaning he genuinely believes it.
An eccentric—exactly as the word describes. Veins begin bulging on Ryuuen's forehead at the ridiculous reply.
He clenches his fists, on the verge of resorting to violence.
Normally there'd be no need to stop him. But during this special exam, there is.
The special exam rules include prohibitions on violence and destruction—rules carrying quite heavy penalties.
If it goes unnoticed, there'd be no issue, but there's no need to create extra trouble.
Above all, even if he used violence—Ryuuen right now couldn't beat Kouenji.
As I thought, the opponent is still too heavy for him. So I'll take over without permission.
I restrain Ryuuen with my arm as he starts to stand. At the gesture, Kouenji grins.
"I'll ask instead. What do you want, Kouenji Rokusuke?"
"Hmm. Then I'll answer honestly. I merely followed their message. If I come here, I can enjoy a pleasant vacation, yes?"
"Yes."
"Then the answer is simple. I desire permission to freely use the equipment you purchased and swim in the sea. That's acceptable, correct?"
"No problem."
I continue the conversation with him calmly.
Once a pause arrives, I call Ishizaki and ask him to relay the gist to the whole class.
"Thank you for the swift response, Kamukura Boy. I truly wanted to compete one-on-one with you, but that can wait for another time."
Kouenji flashes a perfect row of teeth in a smile.
"If I'm going to play with you, a test that highlights individual strength would be better than this exam."
"Hahaha, you understand well."
Still laughing annoyingly, he turns and starts walking toward the sea.
But after a few steps, he stops dead.
"Oh yes, Kamukura Boy—there was one thing I wanted to ask."
I say nothing and wait for his next words.
"Why did you ask… that question at the very beginning?"
"If you figure that out, you'll be able to play with me as an equal."
"…Hahaha! I see, I see. Being treated as an inferior is a first in my life!"
How people interpret it varies. I don't care how he feels.
As long as he eventually becomes someone who exceeds my predictions, that's enough.
"Well then, adieu!"
This time without stopping, Kouenji heads toward the sea.
***
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