The afternoon after my conversation with Matsushita-san.
Sitting at my desk, I glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly 4:00.
"Good grief, I'm getting a lot of stares today."
The piercing looks from all around me were starting to grate.
The cause was obvious: my conversation with Matsushita-san.
In this isolated school, even a short trip through Keyaki Mall—where so many students congregate—was tantamount to putting your private life on public display.
The spread of information was inevitable.
Add to that the fact that a boy and a girl had been seen walking together right before Christmas, and the rumors had exploded.
"Kamukura-saaan. Got a minute?"
In the middle of this supremely annoying situation, my classmate Sonoda-kun stopped in front of my desk.
He had come alone, but several boys and girls nearby were watching us intently, ears pricked, as if ready to pounce.
Since this was a good chance to clear up any misunderstandings, I decided to hear him out.
"You were out with Matsushita-san from Class D yesterday, right? I've got a few questions about that—mind if I ask?"
Most classmates keep a certain distance when they talk to me, but Sonoda-kun and I had spoken often during the sports festival, so he addressed me politely yet casually.
He even initiates conversations when we run into each other at school.
The reason, of course, is that he belongs to the anti-Ryūen faction and still believes I'd make a better leader.
"I don't mind."
"Thanks. Then I'll get straight to the point.
Kamukura-san, are you interested in Matsushita-san?"
"No."
My denial produced visible reactions around us.
Some looked disappointed, some triumphant, some began gleefully speculating.
All of it was irritating.
"What did you two do yesterday?"
"Nothing worth mentioning."
"I-I see… Um, did she confess or anything?"
"No. Is that all?"
"…Just one more thing, then. Who asked whom out yesterday? And I'd like to know how the invitation went, too."
"She did. Though it would be more accurate to say she was simply honoring a prior commitment."
"A commitment!? W-what kind?"
"I believe you said that was your last question."
Sonoda-kun had started pressing too eagerly, so I narrowed my eyes at him.
He mistook it for displeasure and immediately reined himself in.
"…So it's not some rushed holiday romance, then."
"Correct. Did it concern you that much?"
"Of course it did! Everyone thought you'd end up with either Ibuki-san or Shiina-san, but then a third contender shows up. It's huge gossip!"
"Pointless gossip. Who likes whom is irrelevant."
"No, no—that's exactly what makes it fun!"
Sonoda-kun clenched his fists enthusiastically.
I understood why most people would find the topic entertaining, but to me it was utterly trivial.
"Oh, shoot, it's already this late. I've got club activities—see you.
Next time, tell me about that commitment, okay?"
"If I feel like it."
Even without me using any talent to steer the conversation, Sonoda-kun remained upbeat throughout.
He shrinks and goes quiet in front of Ryūen-kun, but this cheerful side is clearly his real personality.
"Yo, ladykiller."
The voice that stopped me as Sonoda-kun left belonged to Ryūen-kun.
From the smirk on his face, it was obvious he had overheard everything.
"Looks like that pickup you mentioned yesterday went well."
"I didn't pick her up. It's more accurate to say I was the one approached."
"Kuku, then Matsushita's got poor taste. What on earth did she see in you?"
Ryūen-kun laughed merrily, the insult rolling off his tongue like breath.
"So what was this 'commitment'? A date promise with Matsushita?"
"…More precisely, an agreement to meet again and exchange contact information. I made it the day I sounded out Matsushita-san and Satō-san."
"I see. So she fell for you that day."
"No. She harbors no romantic feelings toward me.
It was simply a step toward building a deeper connection."
"Hoh. Then the question becomes: why did Matsushita want a deeper connection?"
"Simple. She hoped to get close to me and reap some indirect benefits.
After the recent Paper Shuffle, Class D lost any realistic chance of reaching Class A.
So she devised her own path to promotion and set her sights on me."
"Sly little thing. But I don't dislike people who refuse to abandon the idea of 'winning,' no matter the method. Didn't think Class D still had someone like that."
Finishing his thought, he swung a leg over the desk in front of me—Ibuki-san's seat—and sat.
"Matsushita's not bad-looking either. Once I've crushed Class D, I might just make her mine."
"Based on my observation, she has high standards for the opposite sex. You'd be rejected, unfortunately."
"Kuku—breaking a woman like that is the greatest pleasure of all."
"Predictable. And boring."
"Watch your mouth, you talentless hack."
Stab and counter-stab.
These verbal sparring matches with him have become routine.
"So, what do you want today?"
"Can't I talk to you without a reason?"
"Please don't answer a question with a question."
I sharpened my tone.
He gave an exasperated shrug and continued.
"Kuku, no real business. If anything, I just came to tease you."
"You must have a lot of free time."
"Don't be an idiot. I've got work after this—hunting for X. You think I'm idle?"
He'll just dump it on his lackeys anyway.
"And my assignment?"
"Nothing. Find your own."
"Meaning I'm free to act as I see fit?"
"On the condition that you bring definite profit."
"Then I have a proposal."
I raised my index finger toward him.
I laid out the idea.
Ryūen-kun considered the unexpected suggestion for a moment before replying.
"…Hah, I get it. Not a bad plan at all.
We were going to make contact sooner or later anyway, but if you take that part, we can move now. No one's better suited than you."
"It may mean taking one of your targets."
"I'll let you have it. But is it actually feasible?"
"Who knows—it depends on luck. However—"
"—you've got the talent for luck, so it'll be fine? Kuku, you really are a ridiculous bastard."
Ryūen-kun smiled, shaking his head in disbelief.
He stood, pulled out his phone, and began typing quickly—likely something related to X.
"If you're going to raise the subject, do it after we've dealt with X. Until then, improve the odds however you can."
"Understood. To make your plan succeed, I'll start moving in earnest as well."
With those final words, Ryūen-kun left the classroom.
I stood as well, reorganizing my schedule for the day around his strategy.
I headed toward another class to meet a certain individual.
...
After finishing my walk, I stepped through the open door and surveyed the classroom of another class.
A few students were tending to light cleaning duties: wiping down the whiteboard and tools, adjusting the positions of the teacher's desk and the forty student desks and chairs.
That class was Class B.
Since this school is government-run, classroom cleaning is handled by janitors.
In other words, student-led cleaning isn't part of the curriculum.
Yet here they were, doing it voluntarily.
It reflected a mindset of taking care of the space they themselves used.
"My, my, a rare visitor. Looking for someone?"
Standing in the doorway and peering in, I was noticed immediately.
A girl with well-groomed peach-colored long hair and a curvaceous figure called out to me.
"Yes. I was looking for you… Ichinose-san."
Ichinose Honami.
The leader of Class B and someone who could be called the most popular student in the entire school.
Her personality was the very embodiment of kindness.
She was like the protagonist of a story—gentle to everyone and always ready to lend a hand to those in need.
"Oh? You have business with me? Being personally summoned by the man of the hour is kind of embarrassing~"
Ichinose-san flashed a mischievous, teasing grin.
The "man of the hour," of course, referred to yesterday's events.
"That topic is already stale."
"Ahaha, I figured. So, what's the real reason?"
"Nothing in particular."
I answered curtly and tried to move to the main subject, but my eyes landed on a certain girl.
She held a cleaner and stood in front of the whiteboard—light green hair, bob cut, adorned with a cherry-blossom hair clip. A student whose presence was somewhat faint.
"Shiranami Chihiro, correct?"
When I spoke her name, her shoulders twitched.
Ichinose-san immediately sensed the shift and moved to block my line of sight to Shiranami-san.
"Just to be clear—"
"—I understand everything."
I met Ichinose-san's eyes directly, and she dropped her earnest expression.
"Shiranami Chihiro. Please listen while staying as you are."
She was still hidden behind Ichinose-san.
But for her, who still feared me, that was probably preferable.
I opened my mouth without using any talent related to conversation.
"First, I apologize for cornering you mentally during the uninhabited island exam.
My priority was winning the special exam, so I used you by threatening you.
Since this is a world of competition, I don't consider that choice wrong.
However, I am sorry for causing you terror and, as a result, triggering androphobia.
I won't ask for forgiveness. In fact, you don't have to forgive me. From your perspective, I'm sure I remain someone hateful and frightening."
I kept it concise, conveying my true feelings as directly as possible, and finished the apology.
There was no reply.
Confusion over this belated apology, revulsion from recalling the uninhabited island exam, and fear of me—her thoughts were probably a jumbled mess.
Ichinose-san turned her back to me and checked on Shiranami-san.
"…Chihiro-chan. Kamukura-kun wanted to apologize much earlier. But Kanzaki-kun and I asked him to wait, thinking of how you felt.
I'm sure you still can't forgive him, but I can guarantee that his feelings are genuine…"
"…It's okay, Ichinose-san."
Shiranami-san answered weakly.
Then she walked over steadily, positioned herself behind Ichinose-san, and peeked at me through the gap in her arms.
"I-I still can't forgive you, or rather… my feelings aren't sorted out yet.
…Anyway, I can't come to a conclusion. B-but I thought it was unfair for you to apologize while I said nothing.
So… for apologizing today, um… thank you."
Shiranami-san was stuttering from fear.
Yet even in that state, she faced her terror and responded—I praised her for it.
"You two are amazing."
For some reason, Ichinose-san sounded impressed with both of us.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you're both courageous. Chihiro-chan for facing her trauma, and Kamukura-kun for reflecting on his mistakes."
Ichinose-san spoke with a hint of self-deprecation.
The lowered tone of her voice carried heavy emotion.
But she quickly smiled brightly again.
"Sorry, I made the mood a little gloomy.
Let's get back to the real reason you came, Kamukura-kun."
Worry surfaced on Shiranami-san's face.
It was understandable; anyone could see she wasn't herself.
"Very well. But let me say one thing first.
Ichinose-san, if it were me, I could resolve the knot in your heart."
"Eh?"
"Why are you surprised? I possess counseling talent as well.
I could solve your troubles in an instant.
Of course, the favor you earned during the sports festival would be considered repaid."
The favor referred to her cooperation during the scavenger race.
"Ahaha, that's pretty transactional…"
"Naturally. A favor from you is extremely valuable to me.
I recommend saving it for a more effective occasion, but if you insist, I can use it here and restore your mental state to perfect condition."
I explained quickly, pressing the point.
"N-no, I'll pass."
"Then recover quickly. Many people are worried about you."
I shifted my gaze to Shiranami-san, and Ichinose-san followed.
Realizing it, her weak smile faded, replaced by a genuine one at the corners of her mouth.
"…You can be pretty mean, Kamukura-kun."
Though often praised as a good person, she couldn't fully embody perfect goodness.
She had a heart, and a past that weighed on her.
The darkness she couldn't confide in anyone was gnawing at her—I'd analyzed that much from our conversations.
Removing that darkness would be simple for me.
But it would hinder her growth, which would be boring.
So instead, I showed her Shiranami-san's worried expression to stir her emotions.
For someone like her who valued connections, acting to avoid worrying a friend could temporarily shake off her hesitation.
It was sufficient as a stopgap measure.
"You're imagining things."
Ichinose-san gave a wry smile.
Then, with a brighter voice, she steered the conversation back.
"All right, let's get to the point!
What brings you here, Kamukura-kun!?"
Her expression held no trace of gloom, and her clear, carrying voice rang out.
She seemed back to normal—but that in itself was somewhat tiresome.
"I had questions about the student council. What's required to join or to do a trial membership?"
My business concerned the student council.
Specifically, I wanted to hear the requirements from Ichinose-san, the only first-year student council member.
"…That's it? You'd get a faster answer from a teacher, though."
"I thought asking you would allow more flexibility.
So, what is it?"
"…Well, for a trial membership, you'd need to ask the student council president… but to officially join, you apply and then pass an interview with the president.
The tricky part is that it's not just any interview!"
"In other words, I need to go through Nagumo Miyabi. Then I'll take my leave."
Having gotten the answer, I turned away.
The student council at this school holds considerable power.
For example, former president Horikita Manabu had access to detailed results of the recent inter-year special exam.
The conditions for joining such a position of influence are generally strict.
I had assumed it would require a recommendation from a current member or top academic standing in the year.
But it seemed my guess was off.
"E-eh!? You're leaving already? That's really all?"
"Yes. My questions are finished."
With my business concluded, there was no reason to linger.
I started walking toward the entrance.
"You never change, huh~ …See you, Kamukura-kun!"
Ichinose-san saw me off with her usual cheerful voice, showing no hint of taking my cold attitude personally.
You never change—that's my line.
Her excessive kindness remained as strong as ever.
"Let's meet again."
I said it without turning back.
She was probably waving goodbye.
I walked briskly down the hallway and headed straight for the school gate without stopping.
.
.
.
After parting ways with Ichinose-san, I reached the school gate without anything unusual happening.
I had intended to pass straight through and head back to the dorms in one go, but right then my phone notified me of an incoming email.
To avoid blocking the path, I moved to the side of the gate and checked it.
The sender was Ichinose-san.
It was a long message detailing the full process for joining the student council.
Even though I hadn't asked, she had gone out of her way to send it. Typical of her meddlesome nature.
I sent a casual reply, then turned to gaze at the school building.
A structure every bit as impressive as Hope's Peak Academy.
The thought that I was enrolled here as an ordinary student struck me as strangely ironic.
An unremarkable daily life.
A life where food, clothing, and shelter were guaranteed, where I could freely manage points as financial assets—free of want in every way.
Friends had appeared, and I had found a purpose in exploring the unknown.
Dramatic change was beginning to color the monochrome world I saw.
My existence had been swallowed by turmoil since birth, yet only now had I finally touched something called peace.
That was why I could sense the change within myself—and accept it.
But peace is always nothing more than the prelude to conflict.
As I stood gazing at the building, a man who looked like a politician—wearing an obviously expensive suit—approached the gate.
A man in his forties, exuding an unusual air of authority.
He could never be mistaken for mere staff.
He glanced at me for a moment, then stopped dead in his tracks.
"…You."
Suspicion colored his voice.
His eyes—sharp as honed blades—locked firmly onto me.
Some people might feel as though those powerful eyes could read every secret in their heart.
But I met them head-on.
A solemn tension spread between us.
The man continued glaring without a word.
The stare grew sharper, probing for my reaction.
Then something unexpected happened.
"…Ugh."
A few seconds into our silent standoff, the man suddenly groaned and clutched his head with his right hand.
And then—
"Do I… know you?"
He asked it as a question.
The unforeseen words almost amused me, but judging from his state, I recognized this as an emergency.
I didn't know this man.
Yet there was a chance he knew me.
"…May I ask your name?"
Once the pain subsided, he adjusted his tie with one hand and addressed me.
"Kamukura Izuru."
His eyes widened.
As if another wave of headache struck, he pressed a hand to his head again.
But it passed in an instant. Immediately, he fixed me with a predator's gaze that wouldn't let prey escape for a second.
Vitality returned to those frozen, arctic eyes.
A boiling, magma-like intensity burned within them as they captured me.
"…Why have I only just remembered your existence now?
Infuriating. Truly infuriating. —You genius of falsehood."
His words carried raw malice—disgust, envy.
The killing intent in his eyes revealed emotions far beyond the ordinary.
"But now Kiyotaka's words make sense.
…Remember this. The White Room never conducted education like yours.
I have no intention of accepting the conclusion you reached."
"The White Room?"
The man pressed forward without any concern for explaining himself to me.
One term in particular didn't ring any bells, so I reacted without thinking.
But there was another word I wanted to address.
Kiyotaka.
From the context, it was clearly a person's name.
Since the man was a visitor to this school, the individual named Kiyotaka must be connected to it.
And I knew a student named Ayanokōji Kiyotaka.
"…Professor."
Just as I was about to press him, a third party intervened.
The newcomer was a younger man in a sharp suit.
He could have been a bodyguard or a butler.
He stood impeccably beside the driver's seat of a black limousine parked in front of the gate.
"It's time."
The older man checked his watch and announced it.
Given the commanding presence, the gestures, and the subordinate's demeanor, this man clearly wielded considerable power—and wielded it as naturally as breathing.
It wouldn't be strange for his schedule to be packed.
"Where do you think you're going? I still have questions for you."
To prevent him from leaving, I stepped forward.
But the younger man immediately positioned himself protectively in front of the older one.
"My apologies, but the professor is extremely busy. He has no time to converse with a student."
"He's the one who spoke to me first."
"Time is time, regardless."
The bodyguard smiled, but even my superhuman analytical ability couldn't read the true emotion behind it.
He gave away nothing—no fluctuation in presence, no tells in expression, posture, or tone.
This was professional technique.
And the man in the suit who could make such a professional call him "professor"—who was he?
Questions piled up endlessly.
"Farewell… culmination of Hope's Peak."
With those forceful words, the man departed.
He slipped into the back seat of the limousine as if swallowed by it.
The car pulled away smoothly, leaving no trace.
"Good grief."
On any other day I might have enjoyed such a rare, wintry gust of an encounter, but right now it only felt troublesome.
There were two reasons.
The first: letting the man escape.
He might have provided clues about this world.
But honestly, that hardly mattered.
The real problem was the second.
I was being watched.
More precisely, the man was the target—but since we had spoken, I was likely included as well.
I whipped around toward the source of the gaze I sensed.
In my field of vision: a classroom. An empty one.
On the third floor of the east building, with curtains drawn on both sides.
But looking closely, there was a slight gap.
Then, as if to hide something they didn't want seen, the curtains snapped shut with force.
Both sides simultaneously. That meant at least two observers.
"…Too far from here."
I tensed my legs, preparing to sprint, while calculating the distance to the destination and the shortest route.
But the distance was simply too great. Even using parkour talent, I could arrive in under seven seconds—but then playing tag inside a school riddled with surveillance cameras would guarantee negative consequences.
The conclusion is I had no choice but to give up for now.
"Well, let's look forward to an unpredictable future."
It was an unsettling incident, but if it led to a future I couldn't foresee, I was fine staying on the receiving end.
I turned my back to the school building and headed home.
***
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