Three days passed.
The cruise ship continued its leisurely journey back to the mainland, the students settling into a routine of rest, recreation, and quiet anticipation. The special exam was behind them, but the competitive spirit that defined Kōdo Ikusei Academy never truly slept.
Ayanokoji used the time to observe. He watched the interactions between classes, noting the subtle shifts in alliances and animosities. The Rabbit Group's cooperative outcome had created a strange sort of camaraderie among its members—even Manabe, who had been the most hostile, now nodded to Class D students in passing.
But not everyone had benefited equally.
Class B's position remained unchanged. Class C had neither gained nor lost points. Class D had survived without damage. And Class A...
Class A had won. Again.
The 780 points from the uninhabited island exam, combined with the zero-loss outcome of the Rabbit Group exam, had solidified Class A's dominance. The gap between them and the other classes had never been wider.
Which meant, Ayanokoji realized, that the next exam would be designed to close that gap.
The school wouldn't allow one class to become untouchable. The system demanded competition—real competition, not just the illusion of it. Something would change. Someone would act.
On the afternoon of the third day, a familiar figure found him on the observation deck.
"You've been avoiding me."
Horikita Suzune stood a few paces away, arms crossed, her expression cool but not unfriendly.
"Not avoiding. Thinking."
"Same thing, with you." She moved to stand beside him. "What have you concluded?"
"That the next exam will be different. The school won't let Class A run away with everything."
"Agreed. But that's obvious. What else?"
Ayanokoji considered how much to share. Horikita was intelligent and capable, but she lacked the instinct for strategy that came naturally to Sakamoto—or to himself. Still, she was his closest ally in Class D, and she deserved honesty.
"Sakamoto is preparing for something. Something beyond the exams."
Horikita frowned. "What do you mean?"
"He asked me questions about the school's fundamental nature. About why it divides students into classes from the very beginning. About whether the rules are meant to be followed or broken."
"That's... dangerous talk."
"Yes."
"Did he give any indication of what he's planning?"
"He said the rules are a 'medium' rather than an end. That they exist to shape students, not just rank them."
Horikita was silent for a long moment. "He's not just trying to win. He's trying to understand why there's a game at all."
"Exactly."
"That's terrifying."
"That's what I keep hearing."
Horikita turned to face him. "What do we do about it?"
"For now? We watch. We learn. And we prepare for whatever comes next."
"And what about the beneficiary? From our group? Do we still not know who it was?"
Ayanokoji shook his head. "I have suspicions, but nothing definitive. The beneficiary could be anyone. It could be Sakamoto. It could be someone we haven't considered."
"It could be you."
"Yes. It could be me."
They stared at each other for a long moment.
"I don't believe it's you," Horikita said finally. "You're too... direct. If you wanted the points, you'd find a way to win them without hiding."
"That's a comforting assumption."
"It's an observation."
Ayanokoji smiled—a small, almost invisible smile. "What about you? Could you be the beneficiary?"
Horikita's expression didn't change. "I suppose I could be. But I'm not."
"That's what I thought."
They stood in silence, watching the sea. The sun was beginning its descent, painting the horizon in shades of gold and amber.
"Something's coming," Horikita said quietly. "I can feel it."
"So can I."
"Will we be ready?"
"I don't know. But we'll try to be."