6.1
Narrator: Kikyō Kushida
Deck 10 was mostly deserted at this late hour past midnight, with only the sound of the ocean and the occasional distant murmur of other students still enjoying the ship's facilities. I had found this isolated corner—far from the main pool, hidden behind some maintenance structures—specifically because I needed to be alone.
I needed to vent.
I'm wearing a red sweater to protect myself from the cold at night, some casual pants, and since I didn't want to wake any of my roommates, I had to put on some very comfortable and warm slippers.
My hands gripped the metal railing so tightly that my knuckles turned white. The sea breeze whipped my hair, but I barely noticed it. All I could feel was the frustration bubbling inside me like lava about to explode.
"Damn it," I muttered softly, loud enough for me to hear but not so loud as to attract unwanted attention. "Damn it."
The island exam had been an absolute disaster for me. Well, not for the fake Kikyo Kushida that everyone knew and adored. That version of me had been as helpful and friendly as always, helping everyone, smiling non-stop, being the perfect popular girl.
And yes, some had thanked me. Some had congratulated me on my help.
But for the real Kikyō Kushida, the one buried under layers and layers of falseness... it hadn't been enough.
And to make things worse, Horikita Suzune—that damn arrogant bitch—was being praised as if she were some kind of heroine. As if she had been the reason Class D had won first place.
"Stupid Horikita," I hissed through my teeth softly but loud enough to hear myself, staring at the dark ocean in front of me. "Damn presumptuous bitch. Who the hell does she think she is?"
My fingers drummed against the railing with irritation, the metallic sound barely audible over the waves.
"Everyone's treating her like she's special," I continued softly, letting the venom in my voice flow freely. "Like she's better than me. That cold, friendless bitch who can't even have a normal conversation without insulting someone."
The rage built up in my chest like a fireball.
"And Karuizawa," I spat the name with disgust. "That stupid blonde and her gang of pretentious bitches. Acting like they're better than everyone. Like their opinions matter." I laughed without humor. "Pathetic. All of them are pathetic."
I looked at the view in front of me—the endless ocean stretching as far as the eye could see, the stars shining in the night sky—but found no solace in the beauty. It only made me feel more... empty.
More furious.
"I wish Horikita would just disappear," I muttered venomously. "I wish they would all disappear. This class would be so much better without—"
Without really thinking about it, I raised my fist and slammed it against the metal railing harder than I intended.
CLANG.
The sound resonated in the night air, and a sharp pain shot through my knuckles. I grimaced, gritting my teeth to keep from screaming.
Stupid. That was stupid.
I stood there in silence, breathing heavily as I looked at my reddened knuckles. The pain was... almost welcome. A distraction from the storm of negative emotions swirling inside me.
I needed to calm down. I needed to put my mask back on before someone—
"Well, well. What do we have here? Kikyō Kushida venting like she's in a bad teen drama movie?"
I froze.
Every muscle in my body tensed instantly as my brain processed the voice that had just spoken.
A male voice. Familiar. With that strange accent that had appeared out of nowhere recently.
No. No, no, no, NO—
Slowly, very slowly, I turned around.
Ike Kanji was standing a few meters away, leaning casually against the maintenance structure with his hands in his pockets. A lazy smile played on his lips, and his eyes—those eyes that looked extraordinarily tired with dark bags under them—watched me with a mixture of amusement and... curiosity?
"How long...?" My voice came out weaker than I intended.
"How long have I been here?" Ike pushed off the wall and walked casually toward the railing, positioning himself a few meters from me. His eyes were narrowed and he had a smug smile, though I could notice some annoyance in him.
Ike leaned against the metal, looking toward the ocean as if he didn't have a single care in the world. "Long enough to hear some very interesting things about our dear Horikita-san. And Karuizawa-san. And basically half the class."
My heart pounded hard in my chest.
How much did he hear? What exactly did he hear?
I tried to assess the situation quickly. Ike Kanji was... well, he was supposed to be an idiot. An immature brainless pervert who spent most of his time drooling over girls and failing exams.
But that Ike Kanji had changed.
I had noticed it during the island exam. The way he handled the fire incident, the way he spoke with the girls, the way he moved with a confidence that definitely hadn't been there before...
And now he was here, looking at me with those tired but surprisingly alert eyes.
I needed to act fast.
Quickly, I adjusted my expression to one of innocent surprise and embarrassment. "K-Kanji-kun! I didn't... didn't know you were here. I was just—"
"Save the act, Kikyō," Ike interrupted without even looking at me, his eyes still fixed on the ocean. "I'm not in the mood for your fake personality tonight."
I froze.
Kikyō?
He used to call me "Kikyō-chan" with that annoying but harmless tone. But now just "Kikyō"—without the affectionate suffix, with that tone... casual. Almost intimate but in a completely different way.
And what was worse—he had just called my personality "fake" directly to my face.
The mask cracked.
"What did you say?" My voice came out cold. Dangerous.
Ike finally looked at me, and that damn amused smile was still on his face. "I said I'm not in the mood for your act. I'm tired, cranky and honestly a bit fed up with life in general right now. So why don't we drop the pretenses and have an honest conversation for once?"
Something inside me broke.
All the rage, all the frustration, all the fury I had been holding back exploded.
In one quick movement, I closed the distance between us and grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands, pushing him back against the railing.
"Listen to me carefully, Ike," I hissed, completely dropping my sweet mask. I had dropped any formality. At least that was something good about not having to pretend. My voice was venomous, full of all the malice I normally kept hidden. "I don't know what shit you think you heard or what shit you think you know, but I suggest you forget everything immediately. Understand?"
Ike didn't look intimidated in the slightest. In fact, his smile widened, and his eyes deliberately slid down—from my face, past my neck, stopping briefly at my chest before coming back up to my eyes.
"You know, Kikyō," he said in a mocking voice, "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd grab me like this. Though I must admit," his smile became mischievous, "if you wanted to pin me against a wall, there are much more... pleasant ways to do it."
My cheeks burned—not with embarrassment, but with fury.
"I'm threatening you," I growled, gripping his shirt tighter. "Do you understand the situation you're in?"
"Oh, I understand perfectly," Ike responded calmly. Then, to my absolute surprise, he reached up and gently—almost softly—placed his hand over mine that was still gripping his shirt. His fingers wrapped around mine, squeezing lightly. "The question is, do you understand the situation you're in?"
The warmth of his hand over mine caught me completely off guard. It was... unexpected. Confusing.
"What—?"
Before I could finish, Ike freed himself from my grip with a smooth but firm movement and took a step back. Then, with casual movements, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone.
A bad feeling settled in my stomach.
Ike held up the phone like it was a trophy, his smile becoming more mocking. "You know what? We live in a wonderful era. Smartphones are true technological marvels." He waved the device in front of me. "Especially the recording functions. So convenient. So... useful for preserving special moments."
No.
My blood froze.
"Especially," Ike continued with that sarcastic tone I was already beginning to hate, "when you want to have a backup of, say, very interesting conversations where a certain sweet and kind person says not-so-sweet and not-so-kind things about their classmates."
He pressed the play button with a theatrical gesture.
At first, I heard absolutely nothing.
Just silence.
I frowned, looking at the phone with confusion. "I don't hear anyth—"
But then I saw how Ike's cheeks heated slightly—a touch of color rising up his neck. His confident expression faltered for a fraction of a second as he quickly brought the phone to his own ear.
His body visibly relaxed with relief.
"Ah, there it is," he muttered to himself, then looked at me with an embarrassed smile. "Okay, maybe you were speaking softer than I thought. My mistake."
My eye twitched with irritation. For a moment I considered that he might just be lying, but...
Then, to my absolute horror, Ike began to walk toward me. He didn't stop until his face was inches from mine, so close I could feel his breath.
My breathing stopped.
Ike was taller than me—not by much, but enough that he had to tilt his head down to look directly into my eyes. And those eyes... there was something different in them. Something that definitely hadn't been there before.
"Listen more carefully," he murmured, raising his phone and placing it right next to my ear.
The proximity was overwhelming. I could feel him—his warmth, his presence, the slight scent of soap and a bit of lotion clinging to him.
And then I heard my voice, clear as crystal this time:
"Stupid Horikita... Damn presumptuous bitch... Who the hell does she think she is?... And Karuizawa, that stupid blonde and her gang of pretentious bitches..."
Panic turned into genuine fear.
"Give me that," I demanded, reaching for the phone.
But Ike was already moving. With an elegant movement—surprisingly elegant for someone who was supposed to be a clumsy idiot—he dodged my grab and took a step back, tucking the phone back into his pocket in one fluid motion.
"Ah, ah, ah," he sang with that damn smile still on his face. "No touching."
"Give it back!" I reached again, but he simply moved to the side.
Frustration exploded into fury.
I lunged at him, trying to reach his pocket, trying to grab the phone, trying to do anything to recover that damn evidence—
But Ike was faster than he looked.
In an instant, he had grabbed both of my forearms with his hands. Then, with a sharp pull that caught me completely off guard, he yanked me toward him.
My back hit the ship's wall with a soft but firm thud.
"Hey—!" I started to protest.
But Ike had me completely immobilized. His hands held my forearms against the wall on either side of my head, his body blocking any escape route. It wasn't painful—his grip was firm but not brutal—but it was completely effective.
"Calm down, Kikyō," he said softly, looking directly into my eyes. There was a flash of mocking amusement in his gaze that made me want to scream. "We don't want to make a scene, do we?"
I struggled against his grip, trying to free myself. But despite his seemingly unimpressive physique, Ike was surprisingly strong. Or maybe I just wasn't as strong as I thought.
"Let me go!" I hissed, trying to push him.
"Not until you calm down," he responded with that same calm and irritatingly collected voice.
We struggled for a few more moments—me trying desperately to free myself, him keeping me immobilized with what seemed like minimal effort.
Finally, I realized it was useless. I wasn't going to beat him physically.
I forced myself to stop, my breathing coming out in furious gasps as I glared at him.
"Are you done yet?" Ike asked, tilting his head.
"Go to hell," I spat.
He smiled. "Considering my roommate, I'm already there. And believe me, Yamauchi's snoring is worse than anything the devil could invent."
There was a moment of tense silence as we stared at each other. His eyes—those damn tired eyes standing out because of the slight dark circles beginning to form—studied me with an intensity that made me feel... exposed. As if he could see right through all my defenses.
"What do you want?" I finally asked, my voice cold and dangerous. "To blackmail me? Extort me? Or maybe..." A cruel smile formed on my lips. "You want my body? You'd be that kind of pervert, wouldn't you, Ike?"
I expected him to blush, to get nervous, to show some sign of the weakness he used to have.
Instead, Ike simply looked me up and down—slowly, deliberately—before responding with a simple word:
"Maybe."
His eyes stopped briefly at various points on my body before returning to my face, that mischievous smile still in place.
My cheeks burned with indignation and disgust.
"But honestly," he continued with that casual tone that was driving me crazy, "that's not the reason I have in mind. And as beautiful and sexy as you are, Kikyō," his smile widened, "I'd rather not wake up with a knife in my chest. I have a lot of plans for the future and none involve being murdered by a pretty girl with anger issues."
I didn't know whether to feel insulted, relieved or more furious.
"You're different," I said abruptly, the words coming out before I could stop them. "Since the island exam. You're... different."
Something passed through Ike's expression—too fast to identify.
"Have you been pretending?" I pressed, studying his face. "All this time, have you been acting?"
Ike was silent for a long moment, his eyes still fixed on mine. Then, with a casual smile, he shrugged.
"Or maybe I hit my head and now I have a completely new personality," he said lightly. "You know, like Jekyll and Hyde. Or maybe I lost my memory and now I'm a secret genius. Or maybe—"
"Don't be ridiculous," I interrupted sharply, my patience wearing thin. "People don't just—"
"Or maybe," Ike continued as if I hadn't spoken, tilting his head with that irritating smile, "I simply decided to stop acting like an idiot? Who knows." He shrugged again, clearly amused by my frustration.
I gritted my teeth. "You're not answering my question."
"No," Ike agreed cheerfully. "I'm not."
There was another moment of tense silence.
"Well," Ike finally said, his tone becoming more contemplative, "you have very bad luck, Kikyō."
"Bad luck?" I repeated with disbelief, frowning with annoyance.
"Mm," he nodded, though he still hadn't released my forearms. His grip was firm but not painful, effectively keeping me immobilized against the wall. "You see, I was in my room, desperate to sleep. But Yamauchi..." He made an exaggerated grimace. "That bastard snores like he's trying to communicate with whales in the Atlantic. It's a miracle I haven't suffocated him with his own pillow yet."
Despite myself, I almost—almost—felt a pang of sympathy.
"I was so fed up," Ike continued, running a hand—well, trying to, since he still had me grabbed—through his hair with evident frustration, "that if I stayed in that room one more second, I was going to start screaming. So I left. I came here to clear my mind, see the ocean, maybe find some peace and quiet." He gestured vaguely with his head toward our surroundings. "And it turns out you had the same brilliant idea."
He laughed sarcastically.
"Wow. Looks like we think alike."
"We don't think anything alike," I snapped, struggling again against his grip uselessly.
"If you say so," Ike responded with that damn smug smile. "Though we both came to the same isolated place to escape our respective frustrations. I'm just saying it's an interesting coincidence."
"That doesn't mean anything," I growled.
"Of course not," he agreed easily, clearly not believing me.
I struggled once more, but his hands remained firm around my forearms.
"Are you calm yet?" Ike asked after a moment. "Can I let you go without you trying to attack me again?"
I considered lying. I considered saying yes and then immediately attacking him the moment he lowered his guard.
But... there was something in his eyes. Something that told me he knew exactly what I was thinking.
"Yes," I said finally, though reluctantly. "I'm calm."
Ike studied my face for a moment longer, then nodded.
"Mm," Ike nodded, finally releasing my forearms and stepping back.
I immediately rubbed where he had been gripping. He hadn't hurt me—didn't even leave marks—but the grip had been... firm. The sensation of his touch still lingered on my skin.
"You grabbed me really hard, asshole," I muttered, glaring at him.
"Sorry," Ike said, though he didn't sound particularly apologetic. "But in my defense, you were the one who attacked like a wild cat. Not exactly my fault I had to restrain you."
Before I could stop myself, I raised my leg and tried to kick him in the shin.
Ike dodged it with surprising ease, stepping back with a mocking smile.
"Wow, you're pretty slow," he commented with amusement. "Sure you don't want to consider some self-defense classes? Though honestly, with that speed, you'd probably benefit more from basic athletics classes."
"Shut up," I hissed.
"Careful, Kikyō," Ike warned, though his tone remained light. He pulled his phone from his pocket and waved it in front of me. "Keep acting like that and I might decide to upload this audio to the school forum. Imagine what everyone would think if they heard the sweet and kind Kushida Kikyō calling Horikita a 'damn presumptuous bitch' and Karuizawa a 'stupid blonde' with her 'gang of pretentious bitches'."
I froze instantly.
Genuine fear shot through my spine.
No. No, he can't do that. If he does, everything—everything I've built—will collapse.
Ike must have noticed my reaction because his expression softened slightly. Instead of pressing the threat, he simply began to walk, circling around me until he was standing behind me.
"Relax," he murmured, and then I felt his hands landing on my shoulders.
I jumped. "What—?"
"Shhh," Ike interrupted me softly. Then, to my complete and absolute surprise, he began to... massage my shoulders.
His fingers pressed against the tense muscles with firm but not unpleasant pressure, working out knots I hadn't even realized were there.
"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded, though my voice came out weaker than I intended.
"Giving you a massage," Ike responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're tense. And frankly, being around someone so stressed is making me more stressed, so this benefits both of us."
I tried to pull away, but his hands kept me in place with gentle firmness.
"Stay still," Ike ordered softly. "And listen."
His fingers moved from my shoulders to my neck, finding knots of tension I had been accumulating for days—probably weeks. The pressure was perfect—neither too soft nor too hard.
He was... surprisingly good at this.
"You have to be more careful about where you vent," Ike spoke softly as his fingers continued their work. "You chose a good place—isolated, away from everyone—but still not private enough. You were lucky it was me who found you and not someone else."
His thumbs pressed against a particularly tense spot at the base of my neck, and I couldn't completely suppress the small sound that escaped my throat.
"Besides," Ike continued, his voice taking a more casual tone, "I want you to know something. Horikita didn't do much in the island exam."
I blinked, surprised by that. "What?"
"The result of our victory wasn't really because of her," Ike said simply. "There were... other factors at play. But everyone's so busy praising her that they missed what really happened."
Something in his tone made me believe him.
"And you know what's funny," Ike continued, his voice taking a more sarcastic edge, "I did quite a bit during that exam too. I handled the fire incident, kept the class from killing each other..." He laughed without humor. "And how many congratulated me? Seven people. Seven. Inogashira, Yamauchi, Sudō, Onodera, Nishimura, Yosuke and Ayanokōji. That's it."
There was a touch of genuine frustration in his voice now, though he hid it with jokes.
"My reputation barely moved," he continued with a snort. "The girls still think I'm a hopeless pervert. The guys still think I'm an idiot. And Yamauchi—that damn snoring master—is driving me crazy every night." His fingers kept working mechanically. "So yeah, I understand the frustration. Though at least I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not 24/7. That must be exhausting."
I remained silent, processing his words.
Then I felt his head resting against my neck, his breath warm against my skin.
I tensed immediately. "What are you doing?"
"Just resting," Ike murmured, his voice sounding genuinely tired. "On the beautiful and innocent Kikyō-chan."
"I'm many things," I said flatly, "but 'innocent' is definitely not one of them. And you know it." I wanted to give the asshole a good hit.
"Mm," was all he said, his breathing steady and warm against my neck.
My mind raced, trying to think of ways to get the phone from him. I could try to reach for it now while he was distracted, but his hands were still on my shoulders and he could react before I could grab it.
I could wait until he was more relaxed, then attack—
But... what was the point?
He was faster than me. Stronger than me. And he had clearly thought about this more carefully than he appeared.
With a sigh of irritated resignation, I decided to simply... let this happen. For now.
We stayed like that for two full minutes—him resting his head against my neck, his hands still on my shoulders but no longer massaging, and me staring at the ocean and the stars above us.
It was... strangely comfortable.
Which annoyed me immensely.
Finally, Ike straightened up and pulled away, letting the cold night air fill the space where his warmth had been.
"Listen, Kikyō," he said, his tone becoming serious again. "I don't want to be your enemy. Honestly, I don't. You have your secrets, I have mine. We can... coexist."
I turned to look at him, crossing my arms. "But?"
"But," he continued firmly, "if you betray the class—if you do something that harms our classmates—I'll post that audio on the forum without hesitation. Understand?"
His eyes met mine, and there was steel in them now. A determination I definitely hadn't seen in the old Ike.
"I understand," I said coldly.
"Good," Ike nodded. "So here's your choice: we can get along—genuinely get along—or we can pretend to accept each other and maintain this awkward truce. Either way works for me."
He didn't wait for my response.
He simply turned around, put his hands in his pockets and started walking toward the stairs with that irritating calm that now seemed glued to his body. Not a glance back. Not a "see you later." Nothing.
I stood there, alone, with the night wind whipping my hair and the echo of his footsteps fading away.
What. The. Hell. Just. Happened?
I felt the rage rising again, hot and acidic, but this time it had nowhere to explode. There was no one to hit, no one to insult, no one to destroy. Just me and the black ocean that swallowed everything.
I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms.
Ike Kanji.
That fucking third-rate idiot who before only served to make bad jokes and drool over any skirt now had a recording that could destroy everything I had built for years.
Everything.
One single post and the Kikyo Kushida everyone adores would be over. The cheerful girl, the one who always helps, the one who never says a bad word. It would be over. And underneath would only remain... me.
The real me.
The one who hates Horikita with every fiber of her being.
The one who wants to see Karuizawa and her gang of idiots on their knees and crying.
The one who gets frustrated with most of the students and just wants to hit them to shut them up.
And he knows it.
He knows it and he's not scared.
That's what burned me the most. He wasn't scared. Not nervous. He didn't even seem to enjoy the power like any other idiot in his place would. He just... was there. Calm. As if having my life in his hands was something normal from day to day.
«We can get along or pretend to accept each other.»
What kind of shitty choice is that?
Get along? With Ike Kanji? With the same pervert who used to turn red if I spoke to him up close? With the same one who now pins me against a wall, gives me a fucking shoulder massage and rests his head on my neck as if we were... what? Friends? Accomplices? Something more?
I brought a hand to my neck, where I still felt the phantom warmth of his breath.
It disgusted me.
It disgusted me... and something else I didn't want to name.
Because the worst of all is that, for a second—just one—when his hands were on my shoulders and he spoke with that low and tired voice... I relaxed.
I relaxed.
Me. Kikyō Kushida. The one who never lowers her guard. The one who smiles even though inside she's wishing to tear someone's throat out (not literally).
And he noticed. Of course he noticed. That's why he allowed himself to rest his head. Because he knew that in that moment I wasn't going to push him into the sea.
Shit.
I gritted my teeth so hard it hurt my jaw.
I'm not going to let this happen.
I'm not going to let a nobody like Ike Kanji have me by the neck.
That recording has to disappear. Somehow. With points, with favors, with fake tears if necessary, with threats, with whatever. I don't care.
Because if he thinks he can play with me...
...then he's very wrong.
I'm the one who plays.
I'm the one who destroys.
And if I have to pretend to be his friend, his ally, his damn confidante until he lowers his guard and deletes that recording...
I'll do it.
I smiled at the ocean, a sweet smile, perfect, the same one I use every day in front of the class.
And when I turned around to return to my cabin, I already had the plan forming.
Ike Kanji wants to play.
Perfect.
Because I also know how to play.
ᕕ (⌐ ■ _ ■) ᕗ ♪ ♬ ᕕ (⌐ ■ _ ■) ᕗ ♪ ♬ ᕕ (⌐ ■ _ ■) ᕗ ♪ ♬
6.2
Narrator: Sae Chabashira
6:00 AM.
Dawn was barely beginning to tint the horizon with orange and pink tones as I walked across deck 10 of the cruise ship, a steaming cup of coffee in my hand. At this hour, the ship was practically deserted—most students still asleep after another night of unbridled celebration.
Idiots. All of them.
Enjoying their "victory" in the island exam as if they had really accomplished something significant. As if first place with 225 points was enough to change their pathetic situation as Class D.
I took a sip of my coffee, savoring the bitterness.
Class D had won, yes. But not for the reasons they thought.
Ayanokōji Kiyone had been the real factor behind that result. That girl... was an enigma I still couldn't completely decipher. Even now, after having observed her for months, I still couldn't predict her movements with certainty.
She only acted because I threatened her, I thought bitterly.
But there was something else that had been bothering me lately. Another student who had shown an... unexpected change.
Ike Kanji.
I frowned, recalling the reports I had received from other teachers and my own observations during the island exam.
The boy who had been classified as a hopeless immature pervert—one of the class's "three idiots"—had demonstrated surprising competence throughout the entire test, apparently he knew a lot about camping, which is why Ike turned out to be the most useful, but that wasn't all, there was also the fire incident. He had taken control of the situation when even Hirata Yousuke had been overwhelmed.
And then there was his recent behavior. The strange accent that had appeared out of nowhere. The way he spoke now—more calculated, more... mature.
What changed?
I shook my head, dismissing those thoughts for the moment. I had more important things to focus on.
The next special exam would be announced soon. The zodiac exam—a test designed to prove not only individual intelligence, but also the students' ability to work in mixed groups while hiding their true loyalties.
It would be... interesting to see how Class D handled that challenge.
I continued walking across the deck, enjoying the morning silence and the fresh ocean breeze. This was my favorite time of day—before the noisy students woke up and ruined the peace.
I headed toward a more secluded section of the deck, away from the main pool and recreational areas. It was a place that students rarely visited, hidden behind some maintenance structures.
Perfect for thinking without interruptions.
But when I turned the corner, I stopped short.
There was someone there.
A figure asleep in one of the reclining chairs, curled up in a position that looked incredibly uncomfortable. Even from a distance, I could see how they trembled slightly—the morning air was considerably colder than during the day.
I approached silently, narrowing my eyes to identify the student.
Disheveled brown hair. Informal uniform. And that face that had been appearing in my thoughts lately...
Ike Kanji.
What the hell was he doing here at this hour?
I approached closer, studying him with clinical attention.
His position was terrible—head hanging at an uncomfortable angle, arms crossed over his chest as if trying to conserve heat, legs awkwardly extended. No wonder he was trembling.
The dark bags under his eyes were prominent even in sleep, suggesting he hadn't been sleeping well lately. His face showed tension even unconscious, brow slightly furrowed.
Pathetic.
I considered simply leaving him there. It wasn't my problem if the idiot decided to sleep outdoors and got sick.
But... there was something about the scene that bothered me.
Ike Kanji had been an unexpected factor in the island exam's success. And though I didn't like to admit it, I needed Class D to stay in good shape—or at least functional enough—for the coming exams.
A sick student was a useless student.
With a sigh of irritation, I approached and extended my hand, shaking his shoulder firmly.
"Ike. Wake up."
The reaction was instantaneous.
Ike woke with a violent start, his eyes flying open as his body straightened abruptly in the chair. The movement was so sudden he almost fell sideways, his hands gripping the armrests to maintain balance.
"What—?!" he began, his voice hoarse and disoriented.
Then he froze when his eyes focused on me.
"C-Chabashira-sensei," Ike stuttered, blinking rapidly as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Immediately, his right hand flew to his neck, gripping it with a grimace of pain. "Shit," he muttered, rotating his head slowly with careful movements that clearly caused him discomfort.
I also noticed how he shivered—a violent shudder that ran through his entire body.
"It's cold here," I commented emotionlessly, taking another sip of my coffee as I observed him. "What are you doing sleeping in a chair at this time of the morning?"
Ike looked at me for a long moment, still clearly disoriented from sleep. His eyes—those eyes with prominent dark bags—showed confusion before gradually regaining some mental clarity.
"I... fell asleep," he finally said, his voice still hoarse. He cleared his throat, rubbing his neck harder. "It wasn't intentional."
"Obviously," I responded dryly. "Do you have any reason to be here instead of in your room?"
Ike hesitated, his expression becoming cautious. It was a look I hadn't seen in him before—calculating, carefully considering what to say.
Interesting.
"My roommate snores," Ike finally said with a flat tone that somehow conveyed deep frustration. "A lot. Like... extremely a lot. Like he's competing in some kind of world snoring championship."
Despite myself, I felt the slightest impulse to smile. I immediately suppressed it.
"So you decided to sleep outdoors," I said, raising an eyebrow. "In an uncomfortable chair. In the cold. Without blanket or pillow."
"I didn't plan to fall asleep," Ike defended himself, straightening more in the chair and making another grimace when his neck protested the movement. "I just came here to clear my mind. Look at the ocean. Enjoy the silence. And apparently..." He gestured vaguely around, "...my body decided it was a good time for an unplanned rest."
I studied his face carefully.
He wasn't lying—at least not completely. I could see the genuine fatigue in his features, the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept rubbing his neck with almost involuntary movements.
"How long have you been sleeping here?" I asked.
Ike pulled his phone from his pocket, blinking at the bright screen. "Uhh... it's 6:03 AM, and the last time I checked the time was..." He frowned, clearly trying to remember. "...Around 2 AM, I think. So... four hours?"
Four hours sleeping in a terrible position in the cold of dawn.
Idiot.
"You're going to get sick," I told him bluntly.
Ike shrugged—a movement that clearly caused him more neck pain because he grimaced immediately. "Probably. But honestly, I'd rather be a bit sick than have to listen to Yamauchi turn our room into a snoring serenade all night."
There was genuine resentment in his voice now.
"Besides," Ike continued, his tone becoming more sarcastic, "it's not like I can just change rooms. Assignments are assignments. So my options are: (A) suffer in silence while I slowly lose my sanity, or (B) find alternative places to sleep." He gestured at the chair. "Option B turned out to be less ideal than expected."
I said nothing for a moment, simply observing him.
Ike Kanji was... different. Not just in his appearance or his way of speaking, but in something more fundamental. The way he moved. The way he looked at me—without the typical nervousness most students showed in a teacher's presence.
It was as if... he was speaking with an equal. Not with forced respect or fear, but with a kind of... casual familiarity.
When did this change?
"Your behavior has been unusual lately," I said abruptly, deciding to address the topic directly.
Ike blinked. "Unusual?"
"During the island exam," I continued, studying his reaction carefully, "you demonstrated competence you hadn't previously shown. You handled the fire incident with surprising efficiency. Your way of speaking has changed—that accent you didn't have before." I paused. "Explain yourself."
Ike looked at me for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Then, slowly, a small smile appeared on his lips—not the silly, perverted smile he used to show, but something more... cunning.
"Have you been watching me, Chabashira-sensei?" Ike asked with a mocking tone. "I'm flattered."
My eye twitched slightly at his casual tone.
"Answer the question, Ike."
"Mm," Ike leaned back in the chair—or tried to, before his neck protested again and he decided to stay still. "What do you want me to tell you, sensei? That I suddenly had an epiphany and decided to stop acting like an idiot? That I hit my head and now I'm a genius? That I was possessed by the spirit of a much more intelligent student?"
"Don't waste my time with sarcasm," I warned him coldly.
"It's not sarcasm," Ike responded, though his smile suggested otherwise. "I'm just pointing out that sometimes people change, sensei. They mature. They realize their previous behavior isn't getting them anywhere." He shrugged—carefully this time. "Maybe I simply decided to take things more seriously."
"People don't change so drastically overnight," I pointed out.
"Don't they?" Ike tilted his head. "Have you never met someone who had a moment of clarity? An experience that made them reevaluate their priorities?"
I thought of my own past. Of that exam so many years ago. Of the betrayal that had changed everything...
I shook my head, dismissing those memories.
"And the accent?" I pressed.
"Ah, that," Ike touched his throat lightly. "Honestly, I didn't even realize I had developed it at first. I think... maybe it's an unconscious defense mechanism. A way to distance myself from my 'former self'." He made air quotes with his fingers on "former self". "Or maybe I just watched too many foreign movies and my brain decided to adopt an accent. Who knows."
I didn't completely believe him.
But... I couldn't prove he was lying either.
"Your academic performance remains mediocre," I observed, changing tactics.
"For now," Ike agreed easily. "But Rome wasn't built in a day, right? I can't just wake up one day and get outstanding grades in everything. That would be... suspicious." He gave me a significant look.
I frowned.
He was right, damn it. If he suddenly started getting perfect grades, it would raise too many questions.
"So you plan to improve gradually?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Something like that," Ike responded vaguely. "Though honestly, sensei, grades aren't the only thing that matters at this school, right?" His smile became more cunning. "This school values 'ability' in its broadest form. Social intelligence, practical skills, leadership capability... all those things that don't appear on a written exam."
He wasn't wrong.
In fact, he had articulated one of this institution's fundamental principles with surprising precision.
"And you think you possess those abilities?" I asked, maintaining my neutral tone.
"I'm working on it," Ike said simply. Then he yawned—a big, shameless yawn that revealed how exhausted he really was. "Though it would be easier if I could sleep more than four hours a night without snoring interruptions."
Another shiver ran through him, this one more pronounced than the previous ones.
I took another sip of my coffee, considering the situation.
Ike Kanji was... a mystery. Not one as complex as Ayanokōji Kiyone, but a mystery nonetheless.
And mysteries bothered me.
"Get up," I ordered abruptly.
Ike blinked. "What?"
"Get up," I repeated firmly. "You're going back to your room, taking a hot shower and resting properly. I can't have students getting sick from avoidable stupidity."
"But Yamauchi—" Ike began to protest.
"—will still be sleeping for at least another two hours," I interrupted him. "Students don't usually wake up before 8 AM during these vacations. You have enough time to rest properly before your roommate wakes up."
Ike looked at me for a moment, then slowly stood up. He immediately swayed slightly, grabbing the back of the chair to maintain balance.
"Are you okay?" I asked, though my tone was more irritation than concern.
"Just a bit dizzy," Ike admitted, rubbing his face with both hands. "Getting up after sleeping in a terrible position apparently has consequences. Who would have thought?"
Sarcasm remained present even when he clearly felt miserable.
"Walk," I ordered, beginning to head back toward the stairs that led to the lower decks.
Ike followed me, though at a slower pace than normal. I could hear him behind me, his steps slightly irregular as his body adjusted to being awake and moving.
We walked in silence for a few moments, only the sound of our steps and the ocean waves filling the air.
"Sensei," Ike finally spoke, his voice more serious now. "Can I ask you something?"
"Depends on the question," I responded without turning around.
"Why do you care?"
That made me stop.
I turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
Ike stopped too, looking directly into my eyes. The dark bags under his eyes were even more prominent under the growing dawn light, but his gaze was firm.
"Why do you care?" Ike repeated. "If I get sick, if I sleep badly, if my performance suffers... technically, it's not your problem. You're the class teacher, but you have no obligation to worry about the individual well-being of each student. Especially not someone like me—a mediocre student from Class D."
There was something in the way he said it. Not with self-pity, but with... genuine curiosity.
"This school," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully, "is designed to create exceptional individuals. Students who can thrive in any situation, who can adapt and overcome challenges." I paused. "A sick or exhausted student cannot fulfill that potential. It's... a waste of resources."
It wasn't completely a lie.
But it wasn't the whole truth either.
The truth was I had seen something in Ike during the island exam. A flash of genuine competence, of intelligence hidden under layers of feigned stupidity.
And it reminded me of...
No. I wasn't going there.
Ike studied me for a moment longer, then nodded slowly. "I understand."
I wasn't sure if he really understood or was simply dropping the subject.
"Besides," I added, starting to walk again, "Class D needs every advantage it can get if it hopes to rise. I can't afford to lose students to avoidable negligence."
"Ah," Ike said behind me, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "So I'm an 'asset'. How flattering."
"Don't get too excited," I responded dryly. "You're a low-value asset at the moment. But even low-value assets have their utility if handled correctly."
"Wow, sensei. You really know how to make a student feel special."
The sarcasm was thick in his voice, but there was a touch of genuine amusement too.
We reached the stairs and began to descend. The hallways were as deserted as the deck had been—only the occasional ship staff member passing by for their morning duties.
"Ike," I said as we walked, "a warning."
"Mm?"
"Whatever game you're playing," I continued, keeping my voice low but firm, "make sure you don't overstep. This school doesn't tolerate students who cause unnecessary problems."
There was a moment of silence behind me.
"I'm not playing any game, sensei," Ike finally responded, his voice equally low. "I'm just... navigating the situation the best way I can."
I stopped in front of the stairs leading to all decks, Ike would stop at deck 3—where the male students' rooms were.
"Your deck," I said, gesturing toward the stairs.
Ike nodded, beginning to descend. But after a few steps, he stopped and looked up at me.
"Sensei," he said, and there was something different in his tone now. More... sincere. "Thank you. For waking me up. And for... well, for caring, I guess. Even if it's just because I'm a 'low-value asset'." He smiled slightly with arrogance and mischief.
I didn't respond immediately, simply studying his face for a moment longer.
"Get some sleep, Ike," I finally said. "And consider finding a better solution to your roommate problem than sleeping in chairs outdoors."
"I will," he promised. Then, with one last smile—this one genuine, without a trace of sarcasm—he turned and continued down the stairs.
I watched him go, listening to his footsteps fade until I could no longer hear them.
Then I sighed, taking another sip of my now lukewarm coffee.
Ike Kanji.
Another enigma to add to my growing list.
But unlike Ayanokōji Kiyone—who was an enigma by design, raised specifically to be incomprehensible—Ike was an enigma by change.
Something had happened. Something that had transformed him from a hopeless perverted idiot into... this.
But what?
And more importantly...
How can I use this?
Because in the end, every student at this school was a piece on a larger chessboard.
And I needed to figure out exactly what kind of piece Ike Kanji was.
And if I could use him to finally—finally—bring Class D to Class A.
With that thought, I turned and began to walk back toward my own room.
The dawn was fully up now, painting the sky with bright colors.
A new day.
And with it, new opportunities.
And new mysteries to solve.
ᕕ (⌐ ■ _ ■) ᕗ ♪ ♬ ᕕ (⌐ ■ _ ■) ᕗ ♪ ♬ ᕕ (⌐ ■ _ ■) ᕗ ♪ ♬
6.3
Narrator: Kiyone Ayanokōji
I walked through the hallways of the third floor in my complete school uniform, my steps silent against the polished floor of the cruise ship. Most students were enjoying the ship's recreational facilities—pools, restaurants, karaoke rooms—but I had preferred to spend the afternoon in a more... productive manner.
Or at least, that's what I had told myself.
In reality, I had simply been walking aimlessly, observing, analyzing behavior patterns among students, memorizing escape routes and locations of important facilities.
White Room habits that would probably never disappear.
I was considering returning to my room when a familiar voice called out to me.
"Ayanokōji-san!"
I stopped and turned to see Nishimura Ryuko approaching with a bright smile. She was carrying a beach bag in one hand and a towel in the other, clearly preparing to go to the pool though she still wore casual clothes.
"Nishimura-san," I greeted her with a nod.
"What are you doing walking alone around here?" Nishimura asked, tilting her head with curiosity. "Most people are enjoying the ship. Isn't it boring being alone all the time?"
"It doesn't bother me," I responded honestly.
Nishimura studied me for a moment, then smiled more broadly. "Well, how about you come with us to the pool? It's going to be fun. We're having a little gathering."
I was about to decline—as I generally did with these invitations—when Nishimura continued.
"Sudō-kun, Yamauchi-kun—" she grimaced in disgust at mentioning that name, "—Onodera-san, Inogashira-san and Ike-kun are also going to be there."
I stopped.
Ike.
I had been... observing him since the island exam. His behavior change was too drastic to be natural. The way he spoke, moved, thought—everything was different from the Ike Kanji I had known at the beginning of the school year.
And it had me... curious.
"Sounds... interesting," I finally said, which was probably more enthusiasm than I normally showed.
Nishimura blinked, clearly surprised by my acceptance. "Really? Great! See you there then. I'm going to change right now."
"I also need to pick up some things," I said. "I'll see you at the pool."
"Perfect!" Nishimura waved goodbye with a cheerful gesture before heading off toward her room.
I headed to my own room—408 on deck 4. When I entered, I found the space empty. Matsushita, Nishimura and Wang were probably all enjoying the ship's various facilities.
The room was spacious—much more than I had expected. Four single beds, a private bathroom, and enough storage space for each person's belongings. It was... comfortable.
I quickly gathered what I needed—my black two-piece bikini, a towel, and some basic products—and headed back toward the pool.
As I walked through the hallways, I noticed a familiar figure standing near one of the rooms, looking... uncomfortable.
Sakura Airi.
She was standing outside what presumably was her room, her hands clasped in front of her, her expression showing clear anxiety.
"Sakura-san," I called softly so as not to startle her.
Even so, she jumped slightly, turning to look at me with wide eyes. "A-Ayanokōji-san!"
I approached her, tilting my head slightly. "Are you okay?"
"I... yes... well..." Sakura stuttered, her gaze falling to the floor. "I was just... thinking."
"About your roommates," it wasn't a question.
Sakura nodded miserably. "Shinohara-san, Ichihashi-san and Maezono-san... they're all so... strong. Confident. And I..." Her voice trailed off.
I studied her expression carefully. Sakura was... fragile wasn't the right word. She had strength—she had demonstrated it during the incident at the shopping center. But it was a quiet strength, hidden under layers of social anxiety and shyness.
"Have you tried talking to them?" I asked.
"I try," Sakura admitted quietly. "But every time I start to speak, I get so nervous that the words don't come out correctly. And then I give up." She paused. "Shinohara-san in particular intimidates me. She's so... direct. She says exactly what she thinks without hesitation."
"And you don't," I observed.
"No," Sakura confirmed miserably. "I've never been good at talking to people. Especially people like them who seem so... comfortable with everything."
I considered her words for a moment. In the White Room, this type of social interaction hadn't been necessary. Everything had been direct competition, training, tests. There was no room for the subtleties of friendship or navigating complex group dynamics.
But here, at this school, these skills were essential.
"Sakura-san," I began carefully, "do you remember when I helped you with the incident?"
Sakura nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly.
"I didn't ask you to be brave or to act like someone you weren't," I continued. "I only asked you to trust. To take one step at a time."
"But this is different," Sakura protested weakly. "They're my roommates. I'm going to have to see them every day. If I mess this up—"
"Then what?" I interrupted gently. "Do you think they're going to hate you? Or do you think they'll simply continue without paying you much attention?"
Sakura blinked, clearly not having considered that.
"Shinohara-san may be direct," I said, "but that also means she's honest. If she has a problem with you, she'll tell you. Silence isn't rejection, Sakura-san. Sometimes it's simply... neutrality."
"So... what should I do?" Sakura looked at me with hopeful eyes.
"Take small steps," I suggested. "Don't try to force a friendship. Simply... be polite. Respond when they speak to you. Make small comments about shared things. Eventually, familiarity will generate comfort."
Sakura considered this, then nodded slowly. "Small steps," she repeated softly. "I think... I think I can try that."
"Good," I said with a slight nod.
"Thank you, Ayanokōji-san," Sakura said with a small smile—genuine, though shy. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."
I wasn't sure that was true, but I nodded anyway.
"I have to go," I said, gesturing toward my beach bag. "But if you need to talk again, you can contact me."
"I will," Sakura promised, looking a bit more animated than before.
I waved goodbye and continued toward the pool.
I hadn't gone far when another familiar voice called out to me.
"Ayanokōji-san!"
Kushida Kikyo was approaching with her characteristic bright smile, looking as perfectly friendly as always. She wore casual clothes—shorts and a light t-shirt—but was clearly prepared to go out.
"Kushida-san," I greeted her with a nod.
"Are you going to the pool?" Kushida asked, noticing my bag.
"Yes," I responded simply.
"What a coincidence! I was going to meet some friends from Class C, but I still have some time." Her smile widened. "Do you mind if I accompany you for a moment?"
Not particularly, though I wondered what her objective was.
"I don't mind," I said.
We began to walk together, the silence filling with the distant sound of other students enjoying the ship.
"You know," Kushida began casually, "I've noticed you've been spending some time with Ike-kun lately."
I stopped internally, though my expression remained neutral. "Have you been observing me, Kushida-san?"
"No, no!" Kushida laughed, waving her hands. "It's just that... well, it's hard not to notice. Kanji-kun has been... different since the island exam. And I've seen you talking to him a few times."
Something in the way she said it made me pause. There was a note in her voice—so subtle I almost missed it—that suggested... suspicion? Curiosity?
Interesting.
"We've had some conversations," I admitted vaguely. "Nothing significant."
"Mm," Kushida hummed, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's just that... I was wondering if you noticed anything strange about him. You know, with all the changes."
So it wasn't just me who had noticed.
"People change," I said neutrally. "The island exam was stressful. Maybe it was a catalyst."
"Maybe," Kushida agreed, though she didn't sound completely convinced.
I decided to change the subject before she could press further.
"How has sharing a room with your roommates been?" I asked.
The subject change worked. Kushida's expression immediately brightened. "Oh, it's been wonderful! My roommates are Hasebe-san, Mori-san and Inaba-san. We're all very close."
She continued talking about her roommates, about the activities they had done together, about how fun the cruise had been so far.
I listened with polite attention, occasionally nodding or making small comments when appropriate.
Finally we arrived at the pool entrance on deck 10. The area was quite full of students enjoying the water and sun, though not as crowded as it might have been during peak hours.
"There they are," Kushida pointed toward a group near the pool's edge.
I followed her gaze and saw exactly the people Nishimura had mentioned: Sudō, Yamauchi, Onodera, Inogashira, Nishimura... and Ike.
But it was the scene we witnessed that caught my attention.
Yamauchi was standing near the pool's edge, looking at the water with a curious expression, leaning slightly as if trying to see something at the bottom. Ike was beside him, pointing at something in the water while talking animatedly, his voice loud enough for us to hear from where we were.
"Look at that, Haruki! It looks like a fish or something. Lean closer," Ike was saying with an innocent smile that didn't fool anyone observing closely.
Yamauchi, the gullible idiot he was, leaned closer, squinting. "Wait, I don't see any—"
In one quick and precise movement, Ike pushed him from behind.
Splash.
Yamauchi fell into the water with a shout of surprise, the waves splashing nearby students. Ike burst into laughter, bending slightly as he laughed, his body trembling with genuine amusement. Sudō immediately joined in, his deep, booming laughter resonating over the ambient noise, giving Ike a pat on the back in approval.
The girls—Onodera, Inogashira and Nishimura—showed various degrees of amusement. Onodera laughed openly, covering her mouth with one hand while saying: "Ike-kun, that was cruel! But Yamauchi asked for it by being so naive."
Inogashira smiled more reservedly, shaking her head while murmuring: "Boys... always doing silly things."
Nishimura, for her part, let out a giggle and added: "At least now Yamauchi is fresh. It was hot anyway."
Some other nearby students also laughed at the prank, and Yamauchi emerged from the water, looking absolutely furious as he spit out water and brushed his wet hair from his face.
"IKE, BASTARD!" he shouted, starting to swim toward the edge with clumsy, enraged strokes.
"Sorry, sorry!" Ike managed to say between laughs, backing away from the edge before Yamauchi could grab him. "I'll buy you a drink, okay? Whatever you want!"
Yamauchi stopped in the water, considering it with a mixed expression of anger and greed. "Two drinks? And a hamburger."
Ike pretended to think about it, scratching his chin dramatically. "Fine, two drinks and a hamburger. But only if you don't kill me right now."
That seemed to calm Yamauchi, who finally smiled despite his irritation, getting out of the water with a snort. "Deal, traitor."
Onodera approached Ike, still laughing, and gave him a light push on the shoulder. "You're terrible, Ike-kun. Are you always this mischievous?"
Ike shrugged with a confident smile, wiping sweat from his forehead—or maybe it was water from an earlier splash. "Only when Haruki asks for it. Besides, it's good for the soul—keeps things fun. Right, Inogashira-san?"
Inogashira rolled her eyes, but there was a touch of amusement in her voice. "Fun for you, perhaps. Poor Yamauchi, he always falls for your tricks. Don't you get tired of that?"
"Get tired? Nah," Ike responded, winking at her. "It's tradition at this point. Besides, he always recovers quickly—look, he's already smiling."
Nishimura joined in, crossing her arms with a playful smile. "Well, at least you didn't push one of us. If you had, we would have drowned you for real."
Ike raised his hands in feigned surrender. "I wouldn't dare! You're all too smart to fall for that. Yamauchi is the easy target."
The conversation flowed easily, light and full of jokes, typical of a group of classmates relaxing. I observed from the edge, noting how Ike navigated the interactions with a confidence I hadn't seen before. It wasn't forced; it seemed natural, as if he had always been like this.
"Hello everyone!" Kushida called cheerfully, waving her hand as we approached the group, her voice cutting through the air like a fresh breeze.
The group turned toward us. Ike turned at the sound of her voice, and I saw how his eyes widened slightly with surprise upon seeing her—and then me.
Something passed through his expression: curiosity, perhaps, or a quick calculation. "Kikyō-chan, Ayanokōji-san," he greeted with a smile, though I noticed how he hesitated briefly on Kikyō's honorific, as if weighing his words. "Didn't expect to see you here."
Nishimura lit up upon seeing me. "Ayanokōji-san! You came! And Kushida-san too—how cool!"
Onodera and Inogashira greeted with smiles, Onodera saying: "Welcome! Just in time to see more silliness from the boys."
Sudō gave us a casual wave, still laughing about Yamauchi, and Yamauchi, now out of the water and drying himself with a towel, muttered a grumpy "hello," shooting a look at Ike.
Kushida immediately integrated, as she always did. "Looks like you're having a great time! What did I miss?"
Inogashira quickly summarized the push to Yamauchi, which made Kushida laugh with that perfect, contagious laugh of hers. "Poor Yamauchi-kun! Kanji-kun, you're incorrigible."
Ike shrugged with a smile. "Just keeping the atmosphere lively, Kikyō-chan."
Nishimura then turned to me, tilting her head. "And you, Ayanokōji-san? Are you ready to join the fun? The pool is great today."
I nodded slightly. "Yes, it looks refreshing."
Onodera joined in, floating at the edge. "Are you coming to swim with us? We can play a game or something."
"I'm not very good at games," I admitted neutrally, though I observed how the girls interacted—their camaraderie was genuine, but superficial in some aspects.
Kushida looked at me with a smile. "Let's go change together, Ayanokōji-san! I have time before meeting my friends from Class C. It'll be fun."
I saw no reason to refuse, so I nodded. "Alright."
After a few more minutes of light chat—Ike joking with the girls about who would be next to fall in the water, and them playfully threatening him—Kushida and I headed to the changing rooms. The group waved us off, Ike shooting me a quick look I couldn't fully interpret.
The changing rooms were spacious, with individual lockers and private showers. We chose a secluded area, and as we removed our clothes, Kushida began to chat casually, as if we were old friends.
"This cruise is amazing, right?" she said as she removed her t-shirt, revealing a pink bra that matched her vibrant personality. Her body was... notable. She had a curvaceous figure, with large, well-formed breasts that stood out even under the fabric, probably a D cup or larger.
Her skin was fair and smooth, with a narrow waist that accentuated her wide hips, giving her that feminine and attractive appearance that attracted so many. She was slender but not skinny, with a touch of tonicity in her legs and arms from her daily activities. She removed her shorts, showing matching underwear, then proceeded to put on her bright pink bikini, adjusting it with precise movements.
"Yes, it's luxurious," I responded as I removed my own blouse, revealing my simple black bra. My body was similar in some aspects, but different in others. My breasts were large—a solid C cup, perhaps bordering on D—but not as prominent as Kushida's; they were firm and proportioned to my athletic figure. My skin was a lighter tone, almost pale, and my build was slender but toned, with subtle muscles in the abdomen and legs from my White Room training.
I didn't have Kushida's dramatic curves, but there was an efficiency in my form—tall, slender, with straight shoulders and a posture that projected calm. I removed my pants, exposing my long, well-defined legs, and put on my black two-piece bikini, adjusting the straps with methodical movements.
Kushida glanced at me sideways as she tied her bikini top. "You have an enviable body, Ayanokōji-san. So elegant and strong. Do you play any sports?"
"Not particularly," I responded, though it was a half-truth. "Just the basics."
She laughed softly. "Well, you look great. I try to stay active, but it's hard with all the school stress. Don't you think these exams are killing us?"
"Yes, they're challenging," I said, folding my clothes carefully. I noticed how her chat was light, but her eyes occasionally drifted—as if she were evaluating me. "And you? How do you handle the stress?"
Kushida shrugged, adjusting her bottom. "Oh, talking with friends, I guess. It helps me vent. And you? You're so reserved... it must be lonely sometimes."
"It doesn't bother me," I responded, hanging my towel over my shoulder. "Solitude has its advantages."
She smiled, though I felt it was a bit forced. "Maybe. But it's good to have people around. Like Kanji-kun—he's changed so much, hasn't he? He's almost like another person."
I nodded vaguely. "Yes, it's remarkable."
With that, we both left the dressing room wearing our own swimsuits.
I joined the group at the pool, staying mostly in the shallow edges while observing the interactions.
Kushida immediately integrated with the group, laughing and chatting with everyone. I noticed how she particularly gravitated toward Inogashira, the two falling into easy conversation.
Ike and Sudō were in the middle of some kind of competition—apparently seeing who could stay underwater longer. Yamauchi was acting as judge, timing on his phone.
Onodera and Nishimura were floating nearby, occasionally commenting on the stupid competition.
Everything was... normal. Casual. The kind of social interaction that happened naturally among classmates during vacation.
And yet, I found myself watching Ike with particular attention.
The way he moved in the water was efficient, his strokes smooth and controlled. When he emerged after losing to Sudō, he laughed easily, without a trace of the wounded ego the old Ike would have shown.
"Hey!" Ike's voice cut through my thoughts. He was looking directly at Sudō with a challenging smile. "How about a speed race? Let's see who's faster."
Sudō scoffed. "Are you kidding? I'm going to destroy you."
"Maybe," Ike shrugged, though his smile didn't waver. "But I've learned an interesting technique. Worth a try."
That caught Sudō's interest. "A technique? Alright, you're on. But don't cry when I beat you."
"Inogashira-san, Onodera-san," Ike called, "can you time us?"
Both girls nodded, going to get their phones.
The rest of us gathered to watch as Ike and Sudō got out of the pool and began to stretch.
I found myself approaching, genuinely curious about this "technique" Ike had mentioned.
Sudō did his usual stretches—shoulders, arms, legs. Movements he had clearly been doing for years of athletic training.
Ike, on the other hand, did more... specific stretches. Shoulder rotations, trunk stretches, movements that seemed to focus on flexibility more than strength.
Interesting.
Once both finished, they positioned themselves at the pool's edge, adopting starting postures.
"Ready, Ayanokōji-san?" Ike looked at me, a spark of something—challenge? amusement?—in his eyes.
I realized he was waiting for me to give the starting signal.
"Ready," I confirmed, raising a hand. "On your marks..."
Both tensed.
"Set..."
Their muscles prepared.
"Go!"
They dove into the water simultaneously, their bodies cutting the surface with minimal splashing.
Immediately, the difference in their styles became apparent.
Sudō swam with brute force—powerful strokes that propelled him through the water with impressive speed. Each movement was full of energy and power.
Ike, by contrast, swam with... efficiency. His strokes were shorter but faster, his body staying more horizontal in the water, reducing resistance. His technique resembled more the style used by competitive swimmers—maximizing propulsion while minimizing wasted effort.
For someone with less muscle mass than Sudō, he was compensating with superior technique.
Still, Sudō's physical advantage was significant.
Sudō touched the opposite end of the pool first, emerging with a big triumphant smile.
Ike followed two seconds later, shaking his head to remove water from his hair while grimacing.
"24.6 seconds for Sudō-kun," Onodera announced.
"26 seconds for Ike-kun," Inogashira added.
"Ha! I told you," Sudō boasted, though there was genuine surprise in his voice. "But shit, you almost caught me. That technique of yours is pretty good."
Ike clicked his tongue with annoyance, but smiled too. "Next time I'll win. I just need to improve my physique a bit more and I'll kick your ass."
"Keep dreaming," Sudō laughed, but there was a tone of respect in his voice that hadn't been there before.
I observed the exchange with analytical interest.
Ike had lost—clearly—but the way he handled it, the way he immediately identified what he needed to improve and declared his intention to win next time...
That wasn't the behavior of the old Ike Kanji.
The old Ike would have made excuses. Or would have avoided the competition entirely. Or would have bragged about almost winning as if it were a victory.
This Ike simply... accepted the result and focused on future improvement.
Fascinating.
"That was impressive, Ike-kun," Kushida commented with a bright smile. "Your technique really was different."
"Thanks, Kushida-chan," Ike responded, swimming back toward where we were. "Though clearly it's still not enough to beat this monster." He gestured toward Sudō with a smile.
"Where did you learn that technique?" Inogashira asked curiously.
Ike hesitated for a moment, as if considering his response. "I've been practicing it," he finally said. "I watched some videos and decided to try it."
A vague answer. Interesting.
I was about to ask a question when a familiar sound cut through the air. The sound of Inogashira and Onodera's phone ringtone, I could also hear the sound coming from Ike's, from Kushida's and my phone.
Even in silent mode, the tone still sounded clearly; it must be important instructions sent by the school to all students.
"I wonder what it is," Kushida murmured.
Despite the various instructions we received after starting school, this is the first time they've contacted us this way.
During these summer vacations, it's the first time I've received instructions like this.
At the same time, an announcement began on the ship's speakers.
"This is an announcement for all students," the system voice resonated clearly over the ambient noise of the pool. "You should have received an email earlier on your phones. Check the content of the email and follow those instructions closely. If you didn't receive the email, contact the nearest available faculty member. This is a very important announcement, so please make sure not to miss it. I repeat—" The voice began to repeat the message.
"...that's the email we just received, right?" Kushida said.
"Probably," I replied. Inogashira, Nishimura and Onodera nodded, exchanging glances among themselves.
Ike raised an eyebrow with amusement, smiling with entertainment.
The school's message arrived on our phones at the same time, after all.
The following was written in the email on my phone:
"A special test will begin soon. Gather at the designated time in the designated rooms. Students who arrive more than 10 minutes late to the meeting will receive a penalty. Go to room 204 on the second floor before 18:00 today. Only 20 minutes remain until then. Wash your hands and keep your phone on silent mode or turn it off completely."
I looked at the time on my phone.
17:40 hours.
A special exam.
So the period of peace had ended.
This isn't going to be like the paper exams we received or a physical aptitude test. Like the island test, this is something normal schools wouldn't do.
Only our school would test us that way. Nothing more about the exam was written. Is it something we can infer from the email or is the exam still unknown?
Either way, there's only one way to find out. The meeting point seems to be room 204 at 18:00. There are only 20 minutes in between.
"Ike-kun," I called, approaching while everyone else checked their own messages. "What does your message say?"
Ike showed me his screen.
The message was almost identical, except for two key details: room 202 and the time was 18:40 instead of 18:00. And instead of 20 minutes, it said one hour.
"Sudō," Ike called, and the taller boy approached. "Show me your message."
Sudō did, and both Ike and I examined it.
Room 202, 18:40.
Identical to Ike's.
Something—a mysterious smile—passed across Ike's face.
"What?" Sudō asked, confused by Ike's expression.
"Nothing," Ike responded, though the smile didn't completely disappear. "It's just good to have someone I know at the meeting."
Liar, I thought. You noticed something. But what?
Kushida also approached, showing her phone without being asked. "I have room 204 at 18:40 too."
My phone vibrated again—a personal message this time.
From Horikita.
"Did you receive an email from the school just now?"
I quickly replied: "Yes."
Followed by: "I was designated to meet at 18:00. And you?"
"Mine is at 20:40. It seems our meeting times are assigned differently."
I see. At 20:40 huh? I said.
The same meeting time as Kushida, plus there was the fact that Ike and Sudō also have the same meeting time and room. I briefly wondered if they were going to divide boys and girls.
"I'm curious about this difference in start times; this could give rise to a feeling of unfairness among students in different groups."
"I can't say for certain at this point."
"There are things I'd like to talk about later, but there's no time apparently. Since your meeting time is earlier, please make sure to inform me."
"Understood."
I put away my phone, only to realize that while I was focused on conversing with Horikita, Kushida was looking at me as if asking what was happening, while Ike was watching me with curiosity.
I briefly thought about whether I should tell Kushida about the same meeting time as Horikita, but it would be a nuisance to do so. I decided to wait and see how things developed. It shouldn't be too late, even if I acted after getting more information.
"Anything interesting?" Kushida asked with her usual friendly tone, though there was something more in her gaze.
Ike simply raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"It's nothing," I said neutrally.
Ike studied me for a moment longer, then nodded slowly, clearly not believing me, but deciding not to press.
"Well," Ike finally said, looking around the group, "I guess the party's over. We should all go change and head to our respective meetings."
Everyone agreed, the group dispersing quickly as each headed to change and prepare for whatever this "special exam" would bring.
As I walked toward the changing rooms with Kushida—who insisted on changing together again—my thoughts were already analyzing the available information.
Different meeting times. Different rooms. Clearly separated groups.
And that mysterious smile from Ike when he saw that he and Sudō had the same message...
He knows something, I concluded. Or at least, he suspects something.
The question was: what?
And more importantly: how could I use this to my advantage?
.
.
.
Author's Note: A new chapter, and this time, there was no point of view from SIKanji. Instead, there were various points of view. The next chapter will deal with the explanation of the zodiac exam and perhaps the first meeting. By the way, Ike finding Kushida was pure coincidence, or Ike's bad luck acting up again, and he got the recording because he already knew her beforehand and recorded her as soon as he found her alone and isolated. If she hadn't said anything, Ike would have left quietly.
By the way, did you like the chapter? If you want to support my writing and help me continue, you can do so at ko-fi.com /paxkun12. Any support is incredibly valuable to me and will help me a lot. This is not an obligation— all my chapters and stories will always be free to read. But your support would really motivate me. Not to mention, if you want me to update a particular story, I'll do my best to make it happen. Everyone is welcome to enjoy it. PDT: Every donation will go toward repairing my computer because it broke down. And sorry for any spelling mistakes that might have slipped through. Since I'm working on a tablet, it's possible something got past me, but I tried to check everything several times.