The clock ticked toward 17:55.
Kiyotaka Ayanokoji walked calmly through the pristine hallways of the cruise ship's academic wing, a sharp contrast to the carefree atmosphere that still buzzed in the lounges and poolside areas. Students who weren't yet summoned had no idea what was coming; laughter still spilled from open doors, and music echoed faintly from the recreation deck.
But here, silence reigned.
He reached Room 204 exactly five minutes before the appointed time. The door, a heavy metallic gray, stood shut. Kiyotaka pressed the buzzer once.
"Enter," came a voice from inside.
The door slid open, and Kiyotaka stepped in. The air carried the sterile tang of disinfectant, and the lights were dim but even. At the center stood a long rectangular table, five chairs placed neatly around it. Three were already occupied.
At the head sat Mashima, Class A's homeroom teacher — stern, composed, the faint lines on his face suggesting both discipline and disappointment in equal measure. His sharp gaze flicked toward Kiyotaka but offered no greeting.
Two other chairs were occupied by students. Hideo Sotomura, the bespectacled trivia fanatic from Class D, fiddled with his fingers nervously. Beside him sat Teruhiko Yukimura, his expression rigid as always, posture stiff with a mix of suspicion and tension.
"Take a seat, Ayanokoji," Mashima instructed curtly. "We are waiting for one more."
Kiyotaka gave a small nod and slid into the seat nearest Yukimura. Silence thickened again, broken only by Sotomura's occasional fidgeting.
The clock hands moved slowly.
At precisely 18:00, the door banged open.
"Sorry! I—I'm late, right?"
Kei Karuizawa stumbled inside, hair slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Her eyes darted nervously between her classmates and Mashima.
The teacher's eyes narrowed. "Correct. You are late, Karuizawa. In this exam, punctuality will be the baseline of discipline. Consider this your warning."
Kei bit her lip and muttered a soft, "Yes, sir…" before sliding into the empty chair beside Sotomura.
Mashima gave the table a sharp rap with his knuckles. "Now that you are all present, we will begin."
Mashima's voice carried the weight of absolute authority as he outlined the framework of the new special exam. The students listened in silence, eyes locked, expressions shifting subtly with each new rule revealed.
"The exam begins tomorrow at 8:00 AM sharp. The groups have already been formed and the VIPs chosen. You will each soon receive confirmation via email. During the day, you are free to act as you please. However, twice daily — for about an hour each — groups must gather to discuss. The content of these discussions will be at your discretion."
Kei shifted uncomfortably, glancing between Yukimura and Sotomura.
"At the end of the exam," Mashima continued, "your task is to identify the VIPs of the other groups. The submission will take place between 21:30 and 22:00. Only one answer can be submitted by each group, and it must be sent to a designated faculty address provided to your phones. Remember: the VIP themselves may not submit the answer."
Sotomura raised a hesitant hand. "Sir… what happens if we guess wrong?"
Mashima's gaze flicked toward him. "The results depend on the circumstances. Allow me to elaborate."
He began to detail the Possible Outcomes, his tone steady, his words crisp as if etched into stone:
If the VIP's identity is shared truthfully within the group and everyone answers correctly, all members will pass and receive private points.
If only the VIP is correct, they alone receive 500,000 private points.
If someone betrays the group by revealing the VIP's identity early and correctly, their class gains 50 class points and they themselves earn 500,000 private points. The VIP's class, however, loses 50 class points.
If the traitor answers incorrectly, their class loses 50 class points — but the VIP still receives the 500,000. The VIP's class gains 50 class points.
Kei's lips parted slightly in shock. "That's… that's awful. So someone could just—just sell out their own group for points?"
Mashima gave her a chilling smile. "Exactly. Betrayal is an expected component of this exam. Do not underestimate it."
Yukimura clenched his fists tightly on the table, the veins on his hands taut. "So this entire test is designed to force us into suspicion and manipulation."
"Correct."
Mashima's gaze swept across them all. "This is a test of trust, calculation, and strategy. Survival will not depend on strength or intelligence alone, but on your ability to read intentions. Fail, and you risk your class's downfall. Succeed, and you gain power."
The words sank deep, heavier than iron.
Finally, Mashima pulled out a single sheet of paper, sliding it across the table for them to see.
"This is the composition of your assigned group. Memorize it now. You will return the list before leaving this room."
The four students leaned forward, eyes scanning the carefully typed names.
Rabbit Group
Class A: Shigeru Takemoto, Kōji Machida, Takuro Morishige
Class B: Honami Ichinose, Tetsuya Hamaguchi, Ryōta Beppu
Class C: Mio Ibuki, Shiho Manabe, Nanami Yabu, Saki Yamashita
Class D: Kiyotaka Ayanokoji, Kei Karuizawa, Hideo Sotomura, Teruhiko Yukimura
Fourteen names. Four classes. One rabbit's burrow.
Kei's eyes widened. "I—Ichinose is in our group? Oh no, this is going to be awkward…"
Sotomura muttered under his breath, "Ibuki from Class C… she's dangerous…"
Yukimura's brows furrowed, absorbing the implications. "So we're forced into mixed groups. That means—cooperation between rivals."
Kiyotaka said nothing, his eyes calm as he traced the names silently, committing each one to memory.
Mashima folded his arms. "You will now return this list. Forget nothing. From this moment on, ignorance is failure."
He collected the sheet, sliding it into a locked folder.
"This concludes your briefing. Tomorrow, the real exam begins. Dismissed."
The four Class D students exited the room together.
Kei immediately broke the silence. "This is seriously the worst! What if someone betrays us? What if they figure out our VIP?" Her voice trembled, her fear poorly masked beneath her bluster.
Sotomura wrung his hands nervously. "If one person slips… our entire class could lose fifty points. That's catastrophic."
Yukimura exhaled sharply. "Which means we can't afford even one weak link. Everyone must stay disciplined." His gaze flicked briefly toward Kei, who shrank under it.
Kiyotaka remained silent, walking in step with them. His mind was already weaving threads: calculating probabilities, assessing personalities, predicting betrayals.
The rules invite treachery, he thought. Which means it will happen. The only question is where, when, and who benefits most from it.
At the same time, in another corridor, Soshi Miyamoto stepped out of his own briefing room, his team's list of names already etched into memory. His group would not intersect with Kiyotaka's directly — but the same rules bound them all.
He thought back to Mashima's words, and to the nervous glances his own group had exchanged.
So this is the game now. Not just survival — but betrayal.
The Zodiac Test had begun, and no one would leave unscathed.