Chapter 14: He Thought He Wouldn't Lose, But He Wasn't So Sure About Class D
In the Year 1 Class C queue, the atmosphere was different from both Class A and Class B. It wasn't gloomy, nor was it relaxed; it was restless. Some people were looking around, some were looking down at their phones, and others were listlessly kicking small stones on the ground with their toes. The queue was crooked, and the distance between the front and back rows was off by half a body's length, but no one corrected it, and no one cared.
Ryuen Kakeru stood at the very front of the line, hands in his pockets, legs slightly apart, his posture as arrogant as a cheetah ready to pounce on its prey. His gaze fell on the podium, looking at Nagumo Miyabi, the Vice President of the Student Council, but there was no awe or curiosity in those eyes—only a cold, predatory scrutiny.
He had finished listening to Nagumo Miyabi's speech. The rules weren't complicated: a Red vs. White confrontation, total scores added up, points added for winning and deducted for losing—to put it bluntly, it was a large-scale game played by four hundred students of the entire grade. But what Ryuen cared about wasn't the rules themselves, but the things outside the rules.
For example—in a situation where the whole school is gathered, what would happen if someone just walked away while someone was speaking on stage?
Thinking of this, a curve suddenly formed at the corner of his mouth.
Ishizaki Daichi, standing nearby, noticed Ryuen's expression and leaned in, lowering his voice. "Ryuen, what are you thinking?"
Ryuen didn't answer. He just waited quietly, waiting for Nagumo Miyabi to finish reading those tedious rules, waiting for the perfect moment.
Finally, Nagumo Miyabi put down the paper in his hand and said, "Now is the best time for each grade to gather and discuss."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ryuen raised his hand. It wasn't a formal gesture with the hand raised above the head. He just lazily lifted his right hand to shoulder height, fingers spread casually, as if hailing a waiter.
The playground fell silent for a moment.
Everyone's eyes were focused on him. First-years, second-years, third-years—nearly four hundred pairs of eyes stared in unison at this arrogant boy standing at the front of Class C.
Nagumo Miyabi, standing on the podium and preparing to put down the microphone, paused slightly when he saw the raised hand. He recognized that person.
Ryuen Kakeru.
The bastard who, before the deserted island exam, took his money but turned around and recorded him, selling the voice recorder to Arisu Sakayanagi. The brat who got him disciplined by the Student Council and made him lose face in front of the second-years.
Nagumo's smile stiffened for an instant, but he quickly regained his composed expression. He gripped the microphone again and cleared his throat.
"That student, do you have a question?"
Ryuen lowered his hand and stuffed it back into his pocket, replying to Nagumo Miyabi's inquiry with total indifference. "If we don't follow discipline today, will points not be deducted?"
As soon as those words came out, the playground immediately erupted.
Whispers surged from all directions like wasps from a disturbed nest, buzzing into a single drone. In the first-year area, some eyes widened, some mouths hung open, and some couldn't help but laugh out loud. The second and third-year areas were quieter, but the glances thrown at Ryuen held a hint of amusement and the expectation of a good show.
Standing on the podium, Nagumo Miyabi's smile nearly cracked. He took a deep breath, forcing down the "Are you kidding me?" that almost escaped his lips. His fingers involuntarily tightened around the handle of the microphone.
"Yes." Nagumo's voice remained steady, though his tone was a few degrees lower than before. "This meeting is only for each grade to have contact with their respective teams. Therefore, technically, points will not be deducted for not following discipline."
He paused, straightened up, and looked directly at Ryuen.
"However—"
Nagumo Miyabi emphasized his tone, assuming his posture as Vice President, his voice echoing across the playground through the speakers.
"If you refuse to cooperate or are not keen on participating, it will be highly undesirable and will result in bitter fruit, whether in your future life path or in the current Red and White teams. You should know that if the entire group fails because of your actions, your own class will also suffer a 200-point deduction."
His words were well-crafted. Every word made sense, and every sentence stood on the moral high ground. He deliberately put Ryuen on display before the whole school—Look, this first-year student doesn't follow discipline, isn't keen on cooperation, and might cause the entire Red Team to fail.
So, Nagumo was smart. He wasn't answering the question; he was labeling Ryuen.
The playground went quiet. Everyone looked at Ryuen, waiting for his reaction.
Ryuen looked at Nagumo Miyabi on the podium, the curve of his mouth deepening. He naturally heard the meaning in Nagumo's words—Trying to roast me on the fire? Trying to make me the public enemy of the whole school?
Heh.
"Whatever you say."
Ryuen's voice was still lazy. He raised his hand and waved it dismissively, as if shooing away an annoying fly.
"Then let's not waste everyone's time, or ours." Saying this, Ryuen turned around to face the Class C queue.
Then he said loudly, "Let's go back. This meeting is meaningless and won't earn us a single point."
At this, the playground exploded once more. This time it was louder than before. Whispers turned into open discussion; some gasped, some hissed, and someone couldn't help but shout, "Holy crap!" All eyes were fixed on the Class C queue, on Ryuen Kakeru's back.
And then—
The students of Class C moved. It wasn't a hesitant or slow movement, but a neat, unhesitating turn. The other thirty-nine people, like shadows of a single man, turned around following Ryuen Kakeru's direction.
Ishizaki Daichi was the first to follow, then Albert. Kaneda Satoru pushed up his glasses and followed. Ibuki Mio frowned, glanced at Ryuen's back, and ultimately stepped forward. Shiina Hiyori stood in the queue, her silver hair fluttering in the wind; her expression was calm as her gaze swept back and forth between Ryuen and Class A in the distance before she sighed softly and followed.
Forty people. Not a single one stayed behind.
A deathly silence fell over the playground.
Over three hundred pairs of eyes watched the Class C students walk toward the exit of the playground like a well-trained army, in perfect unison. The sight was so shocking that even the sounds of discussion were swallowed up.
"Wait—"
But at that moment, a voice came from the first-year area.
Everyone's eyes turned toward that direction again. It was Hikigaya Hachiman, the class representative of Year 1 Class A, who had stepped out. Or rather, he had to step out. Because of the Red and White grouping, as a member of the Red Team, he would also be affected.
Hachiman's pace was unhurried as he walked to the front of the queue and stopped. His thin black frames glinted slightly in the sunlight, but the eyes behind the lenses were quite calm.
"Ryuen," Hikigaya Hachiman spoke up in everyone's view, "Are you sure you want to go back now?"
Ryuen stopped. He didn't turn around, only slightly tilted his head, his peripheral vision landing in Hachiman's direction.
"This boring gathering is completely uninteresting." His voice was still in that lazy tone, but every word was clear. "Anyway, no matter what, in order not to lose, the members of the Red Team will always work desperately hard, won't they?"
Saying this, he seemed to let out a mocking laugh.
"So, since you're all working hard, what's the point of staying to listen, discuss, and cooperate?"
The playground went quiet again.
This statement was too cunning. On the surface, it seemed to praise the others in the Red Team for their hard work, but in reality, it was saying—You guys just work hard; we in Class C don't care. You strive for points while we slack off and drag you down. If the Red Team loses, everyone loses points together; let's see who breaks first.
This was coercion!
Using the fate of the entire Red Team as a bargaining chip to force the other classes to submit. Forcing the other classes to desperately do their best to earn points to compensate for the score Class C might lose by slacking off.
Now, everyone's eyes turned to Hachiman. Hachiman felt the gazes around him. He just quietly looked at Ryuen's back and was silent for two seconds.
Then he spoke.
"Since you've decided, then feel free to leave first."
These words caused whispers to break out on the playground again. This time, the subject of discussion shifted from Ryuen to Hachiman.
"He actually agreed?"
"Isn't that letting Class C drag them down?"
"The representative of Year 1 Class A is just letting them go like that?"
Voices came from all sides, but Hachiman's expression remained unchanged. Ryuen finally turned around. He looked at Hachiman and actually let out a laugh.
"You're quite interesting, Hikigaya."
Saying this, Ryuen turned back and continued walking. The Class C queue followed behind him, the footsteps of forty people making a dull sound on the plastic track as they faded into the distance.
On the podium, Nagumo Miyabi watched this scene, his finger lightly tapping the handle of the microphone. His expression returned to its composed state, but there was a hint of irritation in his eyes that even he didn't notice.
Because of Ryuen Kakeru, he was now also a member of the Red Team. If Ryuen's Year 1 Class C slacked off, it would also affect the record of his own Year 2 Class A. Of course, he had basically brought Year 2 Classes A, C, and D under his control, so he could still manipulate the scores. He wouldn't let the Red Team lose, but being forced to work hard by a guy like Ryuen made him feel ashamed.
He cleared his throat and gripped the microphone again.
"The first-years certainly have stubborn tempers." Although he had cursed Ryuen thirty-eight times in his mind, Nagumo's tone showed a hint of helplessness and elder-like tolerance. "Well then, that concludes the explanation of the rules. Next is the free discussion session. Each grade can make their own arrangements."
After speaking, he put down the microphone and turned to walk off the podium.
His pace was still light, and the smile on his face was still proper. But the moment he stepped down the stairs, his gaze involuntarily swept toward the Year 2 Class A queue. He saw Asahina Nazuna.
She stood at the very front of the girls' queue, her orange hair flowing like a waterfall, and the sunflower hair clip pinned in her hair was particularly conspicuous. She was holding a phone, screen up, seemingly prepared to take a photo. However, the direction the lens was pointed—was not the podium.
It wasn't the exit.
It was Hikigaya Hachiman.
Nagumo Miyabi's pace paused slightly. He watched her press the shutter, watched her put the phone away, and watched the faint, almost imperceptible smile at the corner of her mouth.
This caused Nagumo's steps to falter. Then, without hesitation, Nagumo turned his gaze toward Hikigaya Hachiman. He saw that the dead-eyed kouhai was still standing in front of the Class A queue. However, he was wearing a pair of glasses today. After putting them on, incredibly, it felt as though his atmosphere and spirit had changed.
At this moment, even Nagumo almost didn't recognize him. But he still knew. This guy Hikigaya... after putting on glasses... the external image Hikigaya-kun gave at first glance was—reliable.
Very reliable.
The kind of reliability where you could hand things over to him and not worry about problems arising. Not just reliable, he actually looked quite handsome.
Aside from his appearance, the fact that Hikigaya-kun had led his class from Class B to Class A in the first semester made his record prominent enough. On top of that, being the Vice President of the Student Council made him even more conspicuous.
Initially, there were flaws in his appearance that made Nagumo feel unconcerned, but now, there were no problems with Hikigaya-kun's appearance either.
Nagumo Miyabi withdrew his gaze and took a deep breath. He remembered Asahina's action of holding up her phone, the smile on her face, and the words she had said before—"I've always wanted to see what the guy who could pin Sakayanagi-kohai and Katsuragi-kohai to the ground at the same time looks like."
Now she had seen him. And she had taken a photo.
Nagumo Miyabi stepped down the final stair, his footsteps a bit heavier than usual. He didn't look back, nor did he look toward Asahina again. He just quietly walked back to the Year 2 Class A queue and took his place.
The sunlight was good. The wind was good. But his mood was not so good.
.
.
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On the playground, the discussions continued. In Year 1 Class D, unlike the other classes, the air was filled with pure, undisguised complaints.
Ike Kanji stood in the back row, one hand over his forehead to block the sun, the other fanning his face. His expression was full of the impatience of "Why isn't this over yet?"
"The weather is too hot."
"Can't the school pick a cooler day for the sports festival?"
Yamauchi Haruki stood next to him and immediately chimed in.
"Exactly. And Vice President Nagumo was too long-winded. After all that talk, it's basically every class for itself. Red vs. White, total scores added, points for winning and deductions for losing. Even I can understand something that simple; he didn't have to talk for so long."
But Ike Kanji lowered his hand and looked at Yamauchi. "Did you really understand?"
Yamauchi was stunned. "Of course I did!"
"Then explain to me: what is the victory determination method for the Red and White confrontation?"
"It's... it's the total score of the Red Team vs. the White Team. Whichever team has the higher total score wins."
"Then what happens if you lose?"
Yamauchi opened his mouth and got stuck. He scratched his head, thought for a long time, and then said uncertainly, "Deduction of points?"
"How many?"
"..." Yamauchi fell silent.
Seeing him like this, Ike Kanji couldn't help but laugh. "And you say you understood. You don't even know how many points are deducted."
Yamauchi's face flushed red. "You know? Then say it!"
Ike Kanji opened his mouth and also got stuck. The two looked at each other and turned away simultaneously, neither looking at the other.
Sudo Ken stood nearby with his arms crossed, thinking about something else. That guy Ryuen Kakeru had actually just walked away in front of the whole school. He remembered the scene where Ryuen had mocked him publicly at school, remembered the cold smirk on that bastard's face, and his fingers involuntarily tightened.
"That guy is still so arrogant," he whispered.
Ike Kanji, standing next to him, didn't hear clearly. "What did you say?"
Sudo shook his head. "Nothing."
Just then, Ryuen's voice drifted over from the Class C area.
"Let's go back. This meeting is meaningless and won't earn us a single point."
Hearing this, everyone in the Class D queue was stunned.
Shinohara Satsuki stood in the front row of the girls' queue, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide. She watched the Class C students turn in unison and follow Ryuen Kakeru toward the exit. Her expression changed from surprise to disbelief.
"He... he just left?" Her voice was a bit dry. "That Ryuen Kakeru is way too arrogant, isn't he?"
Sato Maya stood next to her, watching Class C's departing backs. She was silent for two seconds and then sighed softly.
"In that case, the members of the Red Team—specifically Year 1 Class A—are in a bit of a rough spot."
Shinohara Satsuki turned to look at her. "You think so too?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Sato nodded. "The Red vs. White confrontation depends on the total score. Class C is on the Red Team. If they slack off and drag everyone down, the Red Team's total score will be pulled low. No matter how hard Year 1 Class A works, they can't fill the gap left by forty people, can they?"
Shinohara Satsuki nodded thoughtfully, then shook her head. "But then again, what good does this do for Class C? If they lose, everyone loses points together; they'll lose points too."
"Who knows." Sato shrugged. "Ryuen never plays by the rules. Maybe he has other plans."
She paused, her gaze landing on the direction Class C had left, her tone carrying a hint of envy. "But to be honest, being able to just walk away is pretty cool. No need to bake in the sun, no need to listen to those wordy rules, just go back to the dorm and blast the AC. Just thinking about it feels comfortable."
Shinohara Satsuki looked at her. "Are you envious?"
"Of course I am." Sato nodded without hiding it. "Aren't you?"
Shinohara Satsuki was silent for a second and then sighed softly. "...A little."
The two looked at each other and laughed at the same time. The laughter was light, but in the quiet queue of Class D, it was still heard by those around them.
Sato withdrew her gaze and turned to look at Karuizawa Kei beside her.
"Kei, what do you think?" she asked. "With Class C leaving like that, isn't Year 1 Class A of the Red Team going to be in trouble?"
Karuizawa Kei stood in the queue, her blonde ponytail particularly conspicuous in the sunlight. Perhaps because she had joined the Student Council, Karuizawa no longer wore nail polish, and she looked much cleaner than usual. But it was undeniable that she also seemed to have become a bit cuter.
But she didn't answer. Her gaze was fixed in the distance, on the Year 1 Class A area, on the boy wearing thin black frames.
Sato followed her gaze and was momentarily stunned. "Eh?" Her voice carried a hint of surprise. "Isn't that Hikigaya-kun? He's wearing glasses? I almost didn't recognize him!"
Shinohara Satsuki also looked over. Her gaze lingered on Hachiman's face for a second, and then she let out a soft "Oh."
"Isn't it quite good?" Her tone held a hint of 'it makes sense.' "He looks reliable at a glance. Hikigaya-kun used to give off a lazy feeling, but he looks much more spirited after putting on glasses."
She turned her head toward Kushida Kikyo nearby. "Kushida-san, what do you think?"
Kushida Kikyo stood in the queue, holding her small notebook with a pen clipped between her fingers. Her expression was calm, with that standard smile still on her lips, but in those reddish eyes, a flash of complex emotion flickered.
"Hikigaya-kun wearing glasses certainly gives off a different feeling." Her voice was soft, her tone perfectly balanced—neither too enthusiastic nor too cold.
Wang Mei-Yu stood next to Kushida. She glanced at Hachiman in the distance following Kushida's gaze, then turned and asked softly, "Kikyo-chan, when you were in the Student Council, did you already see Hikigaya-kun wearing glasses?"
Kushida's fingers paused slightly. She shook her head. "No. This is also the first time I've seen it today."
She was telling the truth. In the Student Council, Hachiman had never worn glasses. Whether in meetings or handling documents, he was always his usual self—dead-eyed, with his hair sticking up, always looking like he hadn't slept enough.
She thought he was always like that. Until today.
Kushida's gaze fell on Hachiman again, on those thin black frames. Just by adding a pair of glasses, the outline of his entire face had become clear.
He looked good. She reluctantly admitted this in her heart.
Then her fingers lightly squeezed the cover of her notebook. August 2nd. Today was August 2nd. August 8th was Hikigaya Hachiman's birthday.
She remembered it clearly. Because since the holiday started, she had been thinking about it. As the little angel of Class D, as the well-loved Kushida Kikyo, and as someone who had taken quite a few points from Hikigaya, she should naturally prepare a birthday gift.
She had thought about it for a long time. She had observed for a long time.
She noticed that Hikigaya never wore glasses, but his facial features weren't actually bad; it was just those dead eyes dragging him down. If he could wear a suitable pair of glasses to cover them up, he would probably look much better.
So she had chosen a pair of non-prescription glasses.
Of course, she knew that someone else had already prepared to give Hikigaya this gift. But she felt that the other person probably didn't have the courage. After all, Karuizawa was now Hikigaya's girlfriend.
But now, the glasses Hikigaya was wearing were clearly the same ones she had seen Matsushita hesitating to give him when she went to give Matsushita points after the Special Exam.
So, was Matsushita actually that brave?
To give Hikigaya a gift even after he and Karuizawa started dating? Or was it that Matsushita didn't know they were dating yet?
And since they were hiding their relationship even after starting it, it wasn't a healthy relationship. Based on Kushida's experience helping others, this kind of situation often developed into a troublesome love triangle.
Thinking this, she looked at the "very brave" Matsushita Chiaki.
However, Matsushita was standing half a step behind Sato Maya, her face wearing a faint, delicate makeup. Even though she wore the same school uniform as everyone else, she gave off a fashionable vibe. But Matsushita's expression was a bit strange—she seemed somewhat lost.
"..."
Kushida quickly judged that the glasses Hikigaya was wearing were likely not from Matsushita.
"..." Kushida.
Then, who gave the glasses Hikigaya was wearing? It couldn't be... that girl Horikita, could it? That girl really has no sense of boundaries...
Kushida immediately entered a state of deep thought.
And someone was also very focused on Kushida.
"Even after the holiday, Kushida-san is still like a little angel, so cute... But the way she's thinking, could it be she's strategizing for this exam?" "Indeed, for this exam, we have to get serious."
While they thought this, they were all wrong.
And another person, Karuizawa, also fell into thought. Her expression was calm, but her heart was anything but. In the Class D queue, the discussions continued. Some were talking about Class C leaving, some were discussing the rules of the Red-White confrontation, and others were already calculating which events they could rank in. But Karuizawa Kei didn't say a word the entire time.
Her gaze remained fixed in that direction. Fixed on those thin black frames.
She remembered the message Hachiman sent at noon today—"At the opening ceremony this afternoon, I'll be wearing glasses. Non-prescription, thin black frames. You've seen them before."
She had replied "That's good" and then stared at the screen for a long time, waiting for him to continue. But he didn't. He only said, "We'll talk about the details when we meet."
Talk when we meet. Now they had met. Separated by the entire playground, separated by hundreds of people, she stood in the Class D queue, and he stood in the Class A queue. She
could see his profile, see the thin black frames on the bridge of his nose, and see the slight tilt of his head when he spoke to the student next to him.
But of the things he said he would "talk about when we meet," he hadn't said a single word.
Karuizawa withdrew her gaze and looked down at her fingers. Her nails were clean, without any color. She wasn't like this before; she used to wear various colors of nail polish, match different hair ties and clips, and pin a cute brooch to her uniform collar.
Now she didn't wear anything.
It wasn't because of the Student Council's requirements, but because she felt he might not like that "gyaru" style. She wasn't sure; it was just an intuition. So when he messaged saying "I'll be wearing glasses this afternoon," what she thought in her heart was—Why wear glasses today? Is it to leave a good impression on the upperclassmen? Or is he also changing himself?
Clearly, Karuizawa had also fallen into a brainstorm.
And another person who was very prominent in Class D was Horikita Suzune.
At this moment, Horikita Suzune was standing on the edge of the Class D queue, holding her phone. The screen was lit, showing her chat history with Hachiman. The last message was still that long explanation he sent during the holiday—about his goals, his plans, and the fact that he was dating Karuizawa.
She stared at the chat box for a few seconds, then locked the screen and put her phone in her pocket.
No new messages.
From the morning until now, not a single one. She didn't know what Hachiman was busy with, nor did she know if he would message today. She just habitually checked her phone every so often, and then put it away when she found nothing.
She told herself she wasn't waiting for a message. She was just checking the time.
She remembered that dream during the holiday. Hachiman stood before her, grabbed her wrist, and asked, "Are you doing well?" That dream was too real—so real that she didn't think it was just a dream. She remembered the way he looked at her, his tone when he spoke, and the temperature of his fingertips when he grabbed her wrist.
And then she woke up. Since then, she had never dreamt of him again.
She thought there would be a second time, a third time; she thought that dream would play out episode by episode like a TV series. But there was nothing. That dream was like a one-time gift; once opened, it was gone.
Horikita was initially a bit disappointed. She couldn't say what she was disappointed about. She just felt that if she could dream of him again, if she could see Hikigaya again, if she could hear him say those mysterious things... maybe she would understand something.
But later, she was no longer disappointed. She told herself that dreams were just dreams. They weren't real, weren't prophecies, weren't the future. They were just hallucinations created by a tired brain in the middle of the night. So she didn't need to care, didn't need to expect, and didn't need to be disappointed.
She only needed to do what she should do. Like saving up twenty million points to transfer to Class A. Like getting points in the sports festival to prove her worth. After all, her brother was participating in this exam and would be watching, and she still wanted his recognition.
However...
Thinking this, Horikita Suzune's gaze landed on Hachiman. Coincidentally, he also looked over. Their eyes seemed to meet, but Horikita subconsciously looked away. Although her expression didn't change, her heartbeat skipped a beat in that moment.
Only one beat.
Then she withdrew her gaze, lowered her head, and took out her phone again. The screen was lit, showing the chat box with Hachiman. The last message was still from the holiday. She stared at those lines for two seconds, then locked the screen and put the phone in her pocket.
No new messages. But she was no longer disappointed. She just said silently in her heart—Not bad.
'The look with glasses... is not bad.'
.
.
.
At the back of the Class D queue, Miyake Akito stood behind Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, his gaze fixed on the direction Class C had left. His brow was slightly furrowed, and a hint of worry was on his face.
"Ayanokouji." He lowered his voice, ensuring only the two of them could hear. "What do you think of Ryuen's move?"
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka stood in the queue, hands in his pockets, his expression unchanging. His gaze fell on the distant exit, on the departing backs of Class C, those golden eyes showing no emotion.
"He likely has other maneuvers." Ayanokouji's voice was very soft, audible only to Miyake. "And—Hikigaya let him go."
Miyake was stunned. "Let him go?" His voice held a hint of disbelief. "You mean Hikigaya agreed to Ryuen doing that?"
Ayanokouji continued, "Because there are benefits to Ryuen doing this. First, by acting negatively, he forces the other classes on the Red Team to work desperately hard to avoid losing. It's like a group in internal strife suddenly finding a common enemy; the others are forced to unite."
Miyake's brow furrowed even deeper. "You mean Ryuen is using this method to force the other classes to exert themselves?"
"Yes." Ayanokouji nodded. "And Hikigaya—he clearly saw through Ryuen's plan. But he didn't stop him; he let him do it."
"Why?"
"Because he still needs Ryuen to do some other things." Ayanokouji's eyes flickered slightly. "Things that are inconvenient for him to do personally. For example, attacking our Class D."
Miyake was silent for a few seconds before slowly speaking, "So, the upcoming sports festival—"
"Class D's participation list will be leaked." Ayanokouji spoke quickly but calmly. "There is no doubt about that."
Miyake's pupils contracted slightly.
"And," Ayanokouji continued, "we will be severely targeted by Class C. Ryuen is someone who won't miss any chance to suppress an opponent. Especially Class D—in his eyes, Class D is the softest target."
Miyake's eyes widened slightly. "Then... what do we do? Is there any way?"
Ayanokouji glanced at him.
"Although preparations aren't complete yet," Ayanokouji added, "one thing is for sure—I won't lose this exam."
Miyake stared at him for two seconds. But in Ayanokouji's golden eyes, there was no fluctuation. This reminded Miyake of the scenes during this holiday where Ayanokouji had tutored him, significantly improving his academic ability. This guy Ayanokouji was indeed extraordinary. At the very least, he had brought Miyake's grades up; he didn't have to worry about failing the written exam and being expelled, and even if he were expelled, he would still have a chance to get into university.
Thinking this, Miyake took a deep breath, suppressed his unease, and nodded slightly. "That's good then."
But what he didn't know was that when Ayanokouji said "I won't lose," he meant he himself wouldn't lose.
As for whether Class D would lose... that was hard to say.
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