"Eliminate the underperformers for the sake of the class?" Matsushita frowned as she heard Horikita's suggestion—it didn't sit well with her at all.
Her mind instantly went to her two close friends, Satou and Shinohara. Neither of them stood out in academics, sports, or social skills. If it weren't for Karuizawa's influence, plus their naturally flashy personalities, they probably wouldn't hold much standing in the class.
If she followed Horikita's reasoning, didn't that make her two best friends prime candidates for elimination? That was going way too far. Betraying your friends like that? No way.
Just imagining herself organizing the class to vote out Shinohara or Satou gave Matsushita chills. If she got one of them expelled, the other—plus Karuizawa and probably every girl in the class—would turn against her completely.
From a girl's perspective, betraying your close friends like that was unforgivable. They'd all start to distrust her, wary that one day she might sell them out too. She'd be socially iced out.
Rationally, she understood that Horikita's suggestion made sense—it served the class's overall interests. But emotionally, Matsushita couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't want to betray her friends, nor did she want to bear the guilt of such a move.
Sigh. She exhaled silently, thinking to herself—if only she hadn't stepped up back during the workplace special exam. Maybe she should have just kept hiding her abilities.
From the start, Matsushita had always had a clear self-awareness. She could act as a strategist, giving solid advice. She could support someone else in charge, like Kanzaki did for Ichinose's class. But to be the one uniting the class herself? That was hard. She lacked the presence to make everyone follow her lead, and she didn't have the toughness to endure being hated by the entire class.
This had been bothering her for a while now.
And yet, if she kept hiding her strength too well, people might start seeing her as weak—a burden—and vote her out instead.
The more she thought about it, the more her head hurt. This new acting chairman's design for the special exam… it was practically lethal.
Just then, Koenji, who was usually indifferent to everything, suddenly voiced his opinion: "Horikita-girl makes a good point. In such an ugly class, cutting off a useless branch might make the tree a bit prettier."
The way he spoke—with his theatrical, mocking tone—made everyone in Class D turn toward him. And as his words sank in, the weaker students visibly changed color.
"Koenji! What the hell do you mean by that?!"
"Yeah! If we're talking about useless, isn't that you? Back during the uninhabited island exam, you snuck back to the boat without permission and cost us thirty class points!"
"Not to mention the sports festival! You totally flaked out! Perfectly healthy and still went and lounged around the medical tent!"
But Koenji only scoffed at their accusations. He even chuckled with disdain. "Tch tch tch. A class full of defects, and still so eager to bark. You all forget already? During the summer camp special exam, who placed first in the individual rankings?"
"...!" Silence fell.
Only now did many students remember—compared to Koenji, they hadn't actually contributed much. At least when he did act, it made a real difference.
And just like that, the more ambitious students realized—vote out whoever you want, but don't vote out Koenji. He was one of Class D's few reliable powerhouses.
"Hahaha! Finally, you all realize! Recognize my brilliance!" Koenji laughed haughtily. "Honestly, isn't this special exam just a pair of shears gifted by the school?"
"Didn't Chabashira-sensei say it herself? The final rule addendum—this expulsion won't negatively affect the class's overall standing. That means we've got a free chance to prune away the most useless branch from the class tree."
Plenty of students couldn't handle his arrogance.
"Koenji, you son of a—! We don't need you, even if that's true!"
"This is all Horikita's fault. Why'd she have to bring up this stupid idea?"
"Yeah! Horikita's no better. Maybe we should just vote her out instead. She's never led us to a single victory anyway!"
"Right? And she's pretty close with Matsushita too. Maybe Matsushita'll protect her?"
As the classroom grew louder and more chaotic, both Matsushita and Horikita realized just how serious the situation had become. Compared to the other three classes, Class D seemed the most terrified of this kind of exam.
Just look at Yukio's class—the news said they trusted him completely. No arguments. At most, just a bit of cursing at the new acting chairman's entire bloodline.
Then look at Sakayanagi's class—both Sakayanagi and Katsuragi, even though he was about to be expelled, were calm. No unrest. Everything was moving forward smoothly.
Even Ichinose's class—though they had panicked at first—was quickly stabilized by Ichinose herself. Everyone was now focused on doing their best to ensure no one got expelled.
And then there was Class D…
Zero unity. Endless arguments. And already, multiple names were being thrown around as possible expulsion targets.
Ayanokoji. Horikita. Koenji. All listed as likely to be voted out.
It made one wonder—could this class really climb its way to Class A?
"Matsushita, what do you think?" Horikita asked calmly, unbothered by the classmates' chatter. Her expression was still cold and aloof, not the least bit worried about being expelled.
Thanks to Yukio's guidance, Horikita had learned something important: don't just listen to what people say—watch what they do, and weigh it against the group's collective benefit.
From a purely strategic viewpoint, both she and Koenji were crucial to Class D's chances. Voting them out would only hurt the class, so she didn't take the noise around her seriously.
What mattered to her now… was whether Matsushita had come up with any ideas.
But Matsushita was stunned. What kind of idea was she supposed to have?
Then, as she glanced around at the spiraling classroom, a thought rose unbidden—Yukio, that scoundrel who had toyed with her so thoroughly back during the summer camp exam.
Ugh, why am I thinking about that jerk now?
But if it were him, wouldn't he surely come up with something?
The news from Yukio's class made it clear: they all trusted him. Entirely.
Her drifting thoughts sharpened. Matsushita's expression firmed.
"Horikita-san, if it's alright with you, could you… help me invite Yukio-kun for coffee at Palette Café this afternoon? I have something I'd like to ask him."
"Yukio? You want to invite him?" Horikita blinked, quickly piecing together Matsushita's intent. "You want to ask how he plans to lead his class through this internal voting exam, don't you? Do you really think he'll tell you?"
Matsushita could only offer a strained smile. Honestly, she wasn't that confident either.
"But if I don't try, I'll never know. And I… I don't want anyone to get expelled because of me…"
That's where the difference between the two girls lay.
Horikita could cast aside a classmate without hesitation—because she had a goal she desperately wanted to reach.
But Matsushita was different. Coming from a wealthy background, she didn't share the same desperate need for Class A, nor was she worried about her future. What weighed on her far more… was the guilt and regret that would come from voting to expel someone she shared a classroom with.
That was a burden she didn't want to carry. Not if she could help it.
...
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