The cafeteria was nearly empty, its quiet broken only by the hum of air conditioning and the clatter of a lone staff member cleaning trays. Yukimura sat across from me, his shoulders hunched, his frustration still palpable from earlier.
I leaned forward, folding my hands.
"Yukimura," I said quietly. "Tell me honestly… do you hate me?"
His eyes widened slightly. "What are you talking about?"
"Because I keep secrets from our team. I order things around without always explaining my reasoning. I've felt it. The tension. The doubt."
He looked down, conflicted. "…I don't hate you. But sometimes, it feels like you treat us as pawns, not allies."
A bitter smile crossed my face. "Then I've been a bad boss. I admit that. Maybe I thought it was for the best. Maybe I was just too used to carrying things alone."
I pulled out a slip of paper, sketching characters as I spoke.
"The VIP isn't random. It follows a logical rule."
Yukimura's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"When the surnames of the group members are arranged by the Kana phonetic order, the VIP corresponds to the position of the animal in the Chinese zodiac."
He blinked. "Wait… you mean…?"
I nodded. "Yes. That's how I already knew who our class's VIPs were. And that's why I asked Sakura Airi to submit her answer early — Yume Kobashi from Class B is the VIP of the Cow group. Our Class D's VIP, Karuizawa, also follows this rule."
Yukimura exhaled sharply, staring at me as though seeing me for the first time.
"…So that's how you knew," he whispered. "And you didn't tell us sooner?"
I sighed. "Because I wasn't sure if Ryūen had discovered the same method. He might already know. That's why we can't rely on just logic — we need to rely on trust. And that's why I'm telling you now. Help Ayanokōji. He can see further than either of us."
Yukimura studied me in silence, then gave a small, reluctant nod.
"…Alright. I'll trust you, Sōshi. For now."
Hours later, the ship was cloaked in silence, broken only by the soft lap of waves against its hull. At the poolside, under dim lights reflecting off the still water, Ayanokōji waited.
Sae Chabashira stood beside him, arms folded.
"You called me out here at midnight. What do you want, Ayanokōji?"
His voice was as calm as ever. "I wanted to ask… is there anything that can't be bought with points?"
She arched a brow. "Straight to the point. Yes. You can't buy a life. Not of a student, not of a teacher. No matter how many points you offer."
Before Ayanokōji could respond, a new voice drifted in, honey-sweet and teasing.
"Well, well. Fancy seeing you two here."
Ichika Hoshinomiya, Class B's homeroom teacher, approached with deliberate steps, her eyes glinting mischievously.
Ayanokōji's gaze sharpened. No coincidence. She followed Sae here.
"Hoshinomiya," Sae muttered coldly. "You're in the way."
"Oh, come now. Can't I say hello to my favorite colleague?" Hoshinomiya's eyes slid toward Ayanokōji. "And this must be the famous quiet boy from Class D. Cute. Are you Sae's little secret?"
Chabashira clicked her tongue, grabbed her arm, and started dragging her away. "We're done here."
As they retreated, Hoshinomiya called back with a laugh, "Don't keep him up too late, Sae~!"
Silence settled once again.
Ayanokōji continued as though nothing happened. "Then tell me, what's the most expensive thing anyone's bought with points?"
Chabashira exhaled. "Someone once changed a school rule. Nothing major. Just the timing of a class so they wouldn't be marked late anymore. That's the level of 'realistic' the system allows."
Ayanokōji nodded slightly. "So that's the boundary. I understand better now."
"You could've sent me that question by mail," she muttered.
"I don't like leaving records. Besides, I'll need a favor from you soon." His voice carried no hesitation.
She studied him for a moment, then turned away. "…Fine. Just don't waste my time."
At 2:00 AM, the dorm room door clicked softly. Hirata Yōsuke slipped out, his expression troubled.
From the shadows, Ayanokōji followed. As expected.
They met in the hallway, Hirata startled but not angry.
"…Ayanokōji-kun? Why are you…?"
"You were planning to meet Karuizawa, weren't you?"
Hirata stiffened. "How do you—?"
"We're in the same group. I've seen enough."
He hesitated, then exhaled. "…You're sharp. Too sharp."
The two made their way to a lounge on the second floor. Karuizawa was already there, arms folded, irritation plain on her face.
"What the hell, Hirata? Why'd you bring him?"
"Because he understands," Hirata said firmly. "And maybe he can help."
"What are you talking about?! I don't need his help!"
But her protests only deepened the tension.
The discussion spiraled quickly. Hirata explained her request: that he take revenge against Manabe and the others.
"I can't do that," he said firmly. "I won't hurt someone else just for you."
"You liar!" Karuizawa shouted, eyes glistening. "You said you'd protect me!"
"I told you from the start," Hirata replied quietly, "that we're not really boyfriend and girlfriend. I was just helping you. I won't fight a war for you."
Karuizawa's voice cracked, trembling with fury and fear. "Then it's over! We're done!" She stormed out, the door slamming behind her.
The silence she left behind was deafening.
Hirata sat heavily, his face pale. "…She doesn't understand. Or maybe she can't."
Ayanokōji studied him. "You've been her shield for months. Why?"
Hirata hesitated. Then, with a long breath, he spoke.
"I had a friend. Sugimura. My neighbor. My classmate. We walked to school together every day. But in junior high, we ended up in different classes. I made new friends. He… didn't. He was bullied. Every day, he sent me signals, little pleas for help. And I ignored them."
His hands clenched.
"By the time I realized… it was too late. I came back from soccer practice one day, saw him in the classroom. He climbed out the window and jumped. He… he never woke up again."
His voice cracked with pain.
"I killed him. With my selfishness. With my cowardice. I couldn't protect him. So now… I protect everyone I can."
Silence fell. Ayanokōji's eyes were unreadable, but inside, calculations ticked. So that's Hirata's root. Guilt. Atonement. That's why he accepted Karuizawa's request without question.
Finally, Hirata handed Ayanokōji a folded slip of paper.
"…I know the last Class D VIP. It's Karuizawa. But what I don't understand… is how Sōshi knew before any of us."
Ayanokōji accepted the paper silently, his gaze flickering with interest.
So Miyamoto Sōshi had the answer before anyone else. More than coincidence. More than luck. Another piece I need to account for.
He folded the paper into his pocket. "Thank you, Hirata. Leave the rest to me."
Hirata nodded, his face pale but determined.
In the shadows, the threads tightened. Karuizawa's mask was cracking. Hirata's guilt was laid bare. And Sōshi's secret rule gave Class D an edge, but also painted a target.