Chapter 2: A New Special Exam: Mixed Training Camp

ON A THURSDAY MORNING, shortly after the start of the third semester, several buses traveled in a row down the highway. The buses carried not only first-year students, but second- and third-year as well—the entire school jointly embarking on one big road trip.

The bus that carried us—the first-year Class C students—entered a tunnel. My ears were assaulted by the pressure change.

This was the second time I'd ridden a bus since enrolling at this school. No one had explained where we were headed or what we were doing. All we knew was that we had to wear jerseys, and it was strongly recommended we pack several spare jerseys and changes of underwear before we left. This didn't sound like a vacation, though.

Since the bus ride was about three hours or so, everyone had brought along fun items considered acceptable by the school. Cell phones were a given, but people had also brought books, playing cards, and snacks and juice. Some had even brought along game consoles.

Our seats were designated, with our names written on them, and I was seated next to Ike Kanji. I'd intended to get along with him when I enrolled here, but our relationship was still at the "just fellow classmates" stage, and opportunities to hang out with him had decreased dramatically. Instead of talking to me, his literal seatmate, he knelt on his seat, turned around, and had a loud conversation with Sudou and Yamauchi, who were seated further away.

I occasionally heard the girls tell them off for being annoying, but they didn't pay much mind. It was uproarious in here, anyway, so it was no wonder that they weren't holding back. I felt a bit lonely, but there was nothing I could do about it.

On the bright side…the recent round of exams had let me grow closer to students like Akito and Keisei.

The atmosphere on the bus was pleasant, but I could tell this wouldn't be a mere field trip. If we'd done this in the middle of winter vacation, I might have held out hope of it being just a fun outing, but the third semester was already underway. It would probably be for us to anticipate an exam like the one we'd had on the deserted island, just so we could prepare ourselves mentally. It wasn't as though Ike and the others hadn't matured at all since then. Probably.

Chabashira observed the students doing as they pleased with a look of deep interest. She stood close to the driver, rather near my seat, as she stared at us. Since I didn't want our gazes to meet, I decided to stare out the window. This was a long tunnel. It'd been two or three minutes since we entered.

Just as I thought that, it began to get brighter. We'd made it through. Chabashira, who had been waiting for us to emerge from the tunnel,

started to move. At the same time, the pain in my ears increased.

"Sorry to interrupt your enthusiasm, but be quiet," she said, addressing the students through a hand-held microphone. "I thought you might like to know where this bus is headed, and also what you'll be doing once we arrive."

"Well, yeah, 'course we're curious. We're not going to another deserted island, are we?" asked Ike.

Chabashira answered quickly. "I see that special exam is still seared into your collective memory. Allow me to give you some peace of mind; we don't hold special exams on that grand a scale very often. Nor are we so cruel as to put you through something like that when it's no longer summer.

However, as you can already guess, there is a new special exam ahead. Compared to the island, though, you'll be in significantly better living conditions."

So she said—but I didn't trust her. The island aside, every special exam we'd faced so far had been insanely difficult from an average student's perspective. Hanging over our heads was the ultimate penalty of failing one of these special exams: expulsion.

"Now, the special exam that you Class D students will—" Chabashira paused. My classmates smiled with a touch of pride as,

immediately after, she bowed her head in apology.

"I'm sorry. You are Class C now. Allow me to give you newly promoted students an overview of the special exam."

Having been formally promoted to Class C in the third semester, our class seemed to be trying its best to calmly face the upcoming exam.

Receiving an explanation of how that special exam worked on the bus meant we could prepare countermeasures, or at least try to. We couldn't just get up and walk around while the bus was in motion, but the bus was small enough that everyone could hear you if you spoke, and we could always use our phones to correspond privately with specific people.

Ike and the other noisemakers shut up, listening to what Chabashira had to say. Proof that they had matured, if only a little.

"We are taking you to a school camp in the mountains. We will arrive in just under an hour. The less time I have to spend explaining, the more time you'll have to strategize," said Chabashira.

An hour until the exam started, huh? In other words, if it took twenty minutes to explain the rules, we'd have forty minutes left over to plan.

"Don't students normally attend school camps and stuff in the summer?" asked Ike, who used to be a boy scout. He knew quite a bit about the mountain range we could currently see from our seats as we traveled down the highway. It was covered in white snow, even now.

"Please be quiet and listen. Remember, this is the only time you have," Chabashira rebuked, but she sounded gentle, rather than angry. Ike scratched his head sheepishly and apologized. A brief moment of laughter ensued.

School camp. I'd never heard of it, so I looked it up on my phone.

"Typically held in the summer months on days when the weather is nice. Commonly held in locations where greenery is abundant, such as the mountains. Group activities are conducted with the express purpose of promoting the development of healthy bodies. Can also refer to an educational facility."

Just as Ike had said, it sounded like these school camps were usually held in the summer. Clearly, however, they could also take place any time of year.

"Normally, opportunities to connect with senior students are few and far between, especially for those not involved in club activities. At this school camp, you'll participate in inter-class group activities for eight days and seven nights, making this a step beyond the Sports Festival. The name we've given this special exam is the 'Mixed Camp.' Since I'm sure a verbal explanation won't satisfy you, I'll be distributing printed materials now," Chabashira continued.

She handed a stack of printouts to the students sitting in the front row, who each took one and then passed the rest back. The syllabus consisted of about twenty pages. Since she hadn't specifically told us not to look, I began to flip through it.

There were clear photographs of what I assumed to be the camp, including the dormitories, public baths, cafeteria, and so on. It was actually kind of exciting to look at these; I felt like I was paging through a travel guide. The all-important words special exam, however, curbed our enthusiasm.

Still, this was twenty pages of documentation on top of a verbal explanation. We'd only received a brief verbal explanation for the Paper Shuffle, which meant this exam was probably shaping up to be pretty annoying.

After confirming that everyone had received the handouts, Chabashira resumed speaking.

"Feel free to keep reading, but I'm going to explain the Mixed Camp now. These materials will be re-collected before you get off the bus, so please make sure you clearly understand the rules. Questions will be accepted at the end, so pay attention. Do you understand?" asked Chabashira, looking at Ike as she spoke.

Ike nodded.

"The main goal of the Mixed Camp is to foster your mental development. In order to accomplish this, we're going to start with the fundamentals of participation in civilized society—ensuring you can build stable relationships with people you don't know very well. Each and every one of you will learn these skills."

So that was why they were making us do group activities with senior

students, huh?

As Chabashira had just said, students who were in clubs might have already developed relationships with their juniors or seniors. Even so, those interactions were mostly limited to the club activities themselves. As for students who weren't in any clubs, hardly any of us had interacted with upperclassmen at all. You might think the school would want us to fraternize voluntarily, without need for exams or club activities to serve as incentive. Of course, it wasn't that simple in reality.

So, how did they plan to get the upperclassmen involved in this?

Unless the need for direct contact was a high priority, most students would probably keep their distance from one another, just like we had during the Sports Festival. Well, we were headed into the mountains to a place designated as a camp, so that might be easier said than done…

At any rate, if the rules for the special exam weren't set in stone, it should be easy to find loopholes. There was a marked difference in maturity, both physically and mentally, between first- and second-year students. A year is a significant period of time in the life of a teenager. I couldn't say how extreme the gulf would prove to be, but the reality of the situation was that we wouldn't be on a level playing field.

"Once we arrive at our destination, we will divide you by gender. Next, we'll hold a school-wide discussion with all grade levels and then further divide you into six groups."

"Divide men and women, then make six groups…" muttered Ike, as though he were trying to memorize the information.

Chabashira continued, "The minimum and maximum numbers of people in each group have already been decided. Take a good look at the guidelines on page 5 of your handout."

The students all looked at once.

Group numbers are calculated based on the total number of students, then separated by grade and gender. For instance, if there are 60 or more male students in the same grade level, the minimum number of participants in a group is 8, and the upper limit 13. If the total is 70 or more, the limits are 9 and 14. If the total is 80 or more, the limits are 10 and 15. However, in the

event the number of students is under 60, please refer to a separate table.

Let's assume the ratio of boys to girls in a class didn't vary between grade levels. If there were 40 students in one class, with a boys to girls ratio of 1:1—20 boys and 20 girls—then that meant, basically, that there were a total of 80 boys across the four classes of a single grade level. That would mean between 10 and 15 people per group, with a total of six groups overall. But the fact that the syllabus referenced the total number of students first meant that these numbers would change depending on how many people had been expelled across all grade levels.

"You're probably already aware of this, but sorting you into six groups divided by gender means that students from different classes will be mixed together. For the duration of the test, your group members will be your allies. You'll be in the same boat, as it were."

"Isn't it kinda ridiculous to ask us to be in groups with people from other classes? I mean, they're our enemies," muttered Ike loud enough so that Chabashira could hear him.

He'd probably been unable to contain himself any longer. But his own words must have jogged something in his brain, because he brightened.

"Yeah, that's it! We don't really have to do that, do we? We can divide Class C into two groups. That'll take care of it, right? Ayanokouji?" he asked, lowering his voice.

It was certainly true that Class C could form two groups of ten.

However, Ike's idea just wouldn't work.

"A good idea, but things aren't that simple. The rules forbid forming a group with students from just one class. As long as groups abide by the approved headcount, you are free to team up with any class you wish. But each group must have a combination of students from at least two classes.

More importantly, these groups aren't selected through discussion. They must be agreed upon unanimously," said Chabashira.

What she'd just said was written plainly in the syllabus. "Every group must consist of students from at least two or more classes."

"So this means we have to make friends with the enemy?" Ike blurted

out. It was less of a question and more of something that had just slipped out.

"Yes, exactly," replied Chabashira, looking slightly exasperated. "Of course, you could form a group that consists almost entirely of students from your own class. If you can get just one student from another class, you'll meet the requirements."

In other words, we could form a group of ten people—the lower limit

—and then have nine of those students be from Class C. I couldn't imagine that kind of group composition would be unanimously approved when we held our school-wide discussions, though. Very few students would be willing to join a group almost entirely composed of people from another class.

However, I doubted a group like that would meet unanimous school- wide approval. Very few students would likely be willing to join a group that only had members from another class.

Also, was it better to have more people, or fewer? The same number?

If the difference in numbers could create an advantage or disadvantage, a smaller group was a risk. But we couldn't know which number would be superior without learning the test's conditions. Our luck would depend on the nature of the exam.

"I'm sure you're wondering if it's better to have more people in a group or fewer. Numbers will certainly be significant to this test, as you'll see if you turn to the section marked 'Outcomes'," said Chabashira wryly. "I will explain it now."

Apparently, it was easy to tell we'd all been thinking the same thing. "Excuse me, but could you please continue explaining the rules first? I

want to learn about the outcomes, but before that, I'd like to know what we'll

be doing as a group," asked Hirata.

"I suppose you're right. If I respond to every one of Ike's concerns, we won't get anywhere."

Ike scratched his head apologetically again.

"Each group will function like a temporary class. I say temporary, but your time together will be significant. Group members will take classes together, of course, but will also cook and clean, bathe and sleep together.

You'll be sharing a variety of life experiences."

Both guys and girls let out agonized wails when they heard the words 'bathe and sleep together.'

"I really don't feel like I could live with people from the other classes though," grumbled Ike. I understood how he felt. Though we'd cooperated with another class during the Sports Festival, that had been a brief and temporary alliance. we hadn't spent much time together. We hadn't exactly been together through thick and thin.

However, this exam was about to collapse those boundaries.

Depending on how things went, some groups might even wind up with a mix of people from all four classes.

"As for outcomes, those are determined by a comprehensive test given on the last day of camp. The contents of this rather significant test are outlined on page 7 of your handouts. Give it a look."

Everyone checked that section.

Ethics Fortitude Discipline Initiative

These weren't typical school subjects. This exam was going to be something removed from the course of normal classes like English or mathematics, which tested academic ability, huh? Unfortunately, I doubted the tests we were about to face would have clear answers. The four concepts outlined in the syllabus were abstract ones. I had yet to see any concrete details of how the test would be conducted.

The schedule laid out in the syllabus only proved my point. After waking up, we'd do morning assignments. Then we would gather at the dojo and engage in zazen, meditative discipline exercises (such as cleaning), followed by breakfast, then by various lessons in a classroom setting. After lunch, students would work on afternoon assignments, and then practice more

zazen. Then we would have dinner, bathe, and go to bed. Quite the departure from our lifestyle up until now.

Incidentally, unlike our usual school routine, there would be additional lessons on Saturday mornings. We'd only have Sunday off.

"More details about your schedule will be announced upon arrival at camp. Right now, I cannot tell you what kind of exam you will face on the final day," added Chabashira.

So we'd need to stay on our toes and play things by ear during the special exam. Maybe the final day would test us on things like zazen, including fine details like posture and manners. Words like Speech and Production jumped out at me as I scanned the syllabus. They didn't feel like good signs.

"Choosing your groups will be of the utmost importance. All six groups must work together and get through the week-long school camp as a unit. No matter the reason, you cannot withdraw from your group at any time, nor can members be changed. If a student has to withdraw due to illness or injury, then their group must simply deal with their absence and operate as though that student is still part of the group."

In other words, we'd get nowhere if there was discord within the group, or if we antagonized each other. It was looking more and more like we were going to have to juggle vying with other classes with balancing the internal functioning of our own group.

Going by the schedule, lessons began tomorrow morning, which was Friday. We'd be in session until Wednesday of next week. Next Thursday, all grade levels would take the final exam.

"Once the first-year students have finished creating their groups, they will rendezvous with the second- and third-year students, who will form their own groups at the same time. In the end, we will have six final groups, each consisting of a mix of approximately thirty to forty-five first-, second-, and third-year students."

It was already tough forming a group within the same grade level, but now we were adding other grade levels on top of that. The bus got weirdly quiet.

"To put it more simply," Chabashira said, "think of groups formed of

students in the same grade level as small groups. The groups formed from students in all grade levels, on the other hand, will be large groups."

Each of the six groups formed by students in the same grade level would be a small group. Then those small groups would join with the second- and third-years to ultimately form six large groups.

"Outcomes will be determined based on the average exam results of all members of the six individual large groups. The strengths and weaknesses of the other grade levels will heavily influence your results."

What concerned me here was the difference in group membership numbers. The large groups would consist of about forty people. Averaging out our results should help reduce inequality, but depending on how the smaller groups were formed, there might be significant differences in the number of people in the large groups.

How we chose to form those large groups was now the most important thing. If this were an academic exam, a large group with only exceptional students in it would easily win. Conversely, students who were deemed unexceptional would inevitably be excluded from the top groups, thus forced to form a lower ranked group. However, this exam couldn't be won by simply gathering the academically gifted in one place.

"I think you've probably got the gist of things now. I'll conclude with the most important piece of information—that is to say, the results of this special exam."

Good question. What did we stand to lose?

"The members of large groups whose averaged scores take first through third place will receive both private points and class points. Large groups whose average scores place fourth or below should expect to have points deducted," explained Chabashira.

The details were, naturally, outlined in the syllabus.

Basic Rewards

1st Place: 10,000 private points. 3 class points. 2nd Place: 5000 private points. 1 class point.

3rd Place: 3000 private points.

The aforementioned rewards will be distributed to each individual student.

So if a small group of ten people included nine people from the same class, that class would be awarded twenty-seven class points as a result of the group taking first place. Of course, that was describing an ideal scenario, but it would be best to aim to have as many students as possible from our class take first place.

However, the more students from the same class there were in a group, the more points that class would have deducted if the group ranked fourth or below. And the larger the group, the trickier it would be to control everyone. The negatives at stake outweighed the relatively few positives.

4th Place: –5000 private points.

5th Place: –10,000 private points. –3 class points. 6th Place: –20,000 private points. –5 class points.

The aforementioned penalties will be deducted from each individual student.

Private points and class points couldn't fall below zero, but the deductions would remain as a cumulative deficit that would be applied against any points awarded for future exams. It was something the school had never done before. If the rewards seemed relatively small, compared to the risks, it was because there was a trick to it.

Chabashira read the next section aloud.

"Depending on the number of classes represented in a small group, rewards may be multiplied. They may also be multiplied based on the total number of people in a small group. Please relax, though. These multipliers only apply to rewards gained from placing first, second, or third. They do not apply to the point deductions for fourth place and below."

These potential reward multipliers went as follows.

If a small group comprised students from two classes, they would receive only the base rewards. However, a small group comprising students from three classes would be rewarded with double the amount of class and private points. A group comprising students from all four classes would be rewarded with triple the amount of class and private points.

Finally, the multiplier changed depending on the number of people in a small group. A group of ten people got the base reward. A group of fifteen people got 1.5 times the reward. In the special event that a small group had only nine people, their reward would be 0.9 times the default.

In other words, if a group comprising students from all four classes obtained first place, they'd hit the 3× multiplier. If that same group also had the maximum number of allowed members, i.e., fifteen, they'd earn an additional 1.5× multiplier. Rounded to the nearest whole integer, this meant each member of the group would be awarded 45,000 private points and fourteen class points.

So far, this seemed like a standard special exam; tricky but interesting.

But what came next changed everything.

"Also…" Chabashira said. "There is a significant penalty for the large group that comes in last place."

"A penalty…? No way."

"Yes. The penalty is expulsion." No surprises there.

"Granted, not every member of the large group that comes in last will

be expelled. If we did that, we'd be expelling nearly forty students at once. Expulsion will only apply to the small group within that large group whose average score falls below the threshold set by the school."

So overall rankings were calculated based on the average score of each large group, but when it came to expulsions, it was the average scores of the small groups that were taken into account. That was troubling.

"If a small group fails to meet that standard, then that small group's representative will be expelled."

"How do we pick the representatives?"

"You will discuss it with the members of your small group and appoint

somebody. That is all."

"The hell? Who'd willingly want to be the representative knowing they might get expelled?"

I doubted there'd be many volunteers.

"There are significant benefits to being a group representative. The representative and the representative's classmates will receive double the rewards."

"Did you say double?" muttered Horikita, who had been silent until

now.

"That's right. To secure the highest possible payout from this exam,

you would have to form a group comprising twelve Class C students and one student from each of the remaining three classes. If you then appoint someone from Class C as your representative and take first place…"

"Wh-what do we win?" asked Yamauchi, unable to perform the calculations himself. He was practically hyperventilating.

"You'd get 1.08 million private points and 336 class points." "Th-three hundred thirty-six?!"

If that happened, it would overturn the class rankings entirely. Even jumping all the way to A Class as a result of this exam wasn't out of the question, depending on how the other groups scored. The more risks we took, the greater the rewards—and the odds of securing the highest achievable reward weren't too low, either.

"Once the small groups have been decided, you will have until tomorrow morning to appoint your representative. In the event a group cannot choose a representative, that group will immediately be disqualified, and every single one of its members will be expelled. Of course, no group would ever be so stupid as to make such a mistake."

So the school wouldn't be picking representatives—it was solely up to us to decide who to appoint. A difficult decision, to be sure. If no one volunteered, we might wind up having to draw straws or play rock-paper- scissors…an inevitable conclusion in light of the fact we'd all be expelled otherwise, but in an already fraught situation such as this, it would put a strain on the group's unity.

"Finally, the representative who is expelled may choose one other person from within their group to share their fate. We're calling this one the solidarity rule. Think of it as going down together.'"

"H-huh?! What's with that?! That's just crazy! So, if we appointed some random dude as the representative, they could take down the leader of another class?!"

I couldn't imagine it would be that easy. Selecting a representative would involve a certain degree of screening. We probably wouldn't be picking obvious sacrificial pawns to fill the role, and if we did, it would be the group's fault. It was unlikely we'd find someone willing to both sacrifice themselves for the group's sake and take down a student from an enemy class in the process…unless, of course, we were talking about someone who'd been trapped in Class D for years and was on the verge of dropping out anyway.

But if there were students who were contemplating giving up in that way, their peers were probably aware of the fact.

"Don't worry," Chabashira said. "The representative can't just take any student down with them. Only students whom the school deems contributory to the group's failure can be selected for expulsion in this way. Unless you deliberately score poorly or boycott the test, you'll be fine."

Well, that was something, at least. However, I had my doubts about the representatives for this exam. This was unlike any previous situation we'd been in—particularly the fact that this time, the exam was the same for all grade levels. The other classes were probably receiving the exact same instructions right now.

In other words, many different strategies were currently in the process of being formed. This wasn't just a fight between the first-years. The second- years were battling other second-years and third-years other third-years.

I sent off a text message to a certain individual, hoping to clear a few things up. I wanted to know if the student council was somehow involved in creating this special exam.

"One more important detail. If a student is expelled, that student's class will be penalized accordingly. The specifics of the penalty change depending on the exam. In the case of this test, one hundred points will be deducted

from the class. If the class has insufficient class points to pay off the penalty, they will be in debt. Until that debt is paid off, their total will remain at zero."

The benefits were enormous, but the negatives were just as vast. The promise of doubling your points by being a group representative was tantalizing, but it came with the risk of being expelled. No one would willingly volunteer for such a role unless they were confident in the abilities of their small group. Nor, however, would they want the spoils of the representative's victory to go to another class.

Then there was the solidarity rule, which was clearly designed to leave you at an impasse.

"That concludes my explanation. I will now open the floor for questions."

Hirata immediately raised his hand.

"If someone were to be expelled…would there be any way to help that person, like a lifeline?" he asked.

"If you're expelled, you're expelled. Nothin' ya can do 'bout it," replied Sudou.

Hirata rejected that outright. "That can't be true. You were almost expelled once, Sudou-kun, but were saved thanks to Horikita-san's quick thinking. It would be strange if there was nothing we could do."

Chabashira smiled.

"That's correct. You can buy a Revocation of Expulsion using private points as a last resort. Naturally, the price will be high. The Revocation of Expulsion costs twenty million private points and an additional three hundred class points. This lifeline will only prevent a student's expulsion. It won't cancel out the penalties suffered by the class as a result of that expulsion. Of course, if you don't have the points to pay for the lifeline, then that option is unavailable."

An exorbitant price. It meant a minimum of four hundred class points would be required to save a student on the brink of expulsion, which made it a lifeline we were unlikely to extend. The whole class would have to pay a great toll to save one person.

"Regarding the twenty million points you mentioned, can the entire

class pitch in?" asked Hirata, who was clearly considering a future where we might use the lifeline.

"Yes, everyone may pitch in. But this is completely irrelevant, since you have only a few points available."

With that, Chabashira was done reviewing the materials.

"There isn't much time left before we reach our destination. You are free to use the remaining time however you like. Right before we arrive, I will re-collect the handout. Also, the use of phones will be forbidden for a week. I will be collecting those shortly. Other than that, you are free to bring daily necessities or playthings along with you, but not food. Perishables must be consumed before we arrive, or you'll have to throw them away before you get off the bus. That's all."

Students who hadn't reacted to the dangers of the special exam now let out agonized wails at that last comment. We'd already gone through this on the uninhabited island, but I supposed it was painful to have your phone confiscated for a whole week.

"I have a question!" Ike raised his hand energetically. "You said that guys and girls would be separate, but, like, exactly how spread out are we gonna be?"

Chabashira wore a wry smile. "There are two buildings at the camp. The boys will use the main building, and the girls will take the other. The buildings are next to one another, but you'll be living apart from each other for a week. You will not be allowed to go outside during recess or after school without permission either."

"So we won't be able to talk to each other?"

"No, boys and girls will take meals together in the cafeteria in the main building for one hour a day. The school issues no directives to students during that time period. You can do as you please then. Understand?"

"Yes!" Ike rejoiced, probably happy he'd be able to talk to girls.

I sat up slightly and glanced at Shinohara, who was sitting nearby. While she looked slightly exasperated, her face brightened at Ike's words. Maybe their Christmas dinner had gone well.

"If there are no further questions, that'll be all," said Chabashira,

probably anticipating a lot of silly questions coming her way. "Sensei. May I borrow your microphone?" asked Hirata.

"Of course." Chabashira handed it over and returned to her seat. Hirata took her place at the front of the bus.

"Based on what sensei said, we're running out of time. Still, I'd like to try to hear everyone's opinions. How can we get through this exam? What kind of groups should we shoot for?"

"Wouldn't it be best if we tried to get as many of our classmates in as possible? Pick twelve toppers and then get one person from every other class. That'd be perfect," said Sudou.

"That would be ideal, but I doubt three students from other classes would want to join that group. They'd naturally be on their guard."

It would be obvious that such a group wanted to win badly. I couldn't imagine single students from each of the other classes being willing to join them. Besides, if such a group ranked poorly, the damage to the class would be considerable.

"Hey, if all the smart people get in one group, then the rest of us don't stand a chance," said Yamauchi. Apparently, he still hadn't figured out that this wasn't about academics. "I mean, we really wanna get some private points ourselves."

His complaints were understandable. This issue had come up during the exam on the cruise ship too. The large group who ranked first would earn private points, but the students in the bottom groups gained nothing. In fact, they would lose a great deal. Given that, most people obviously wanted to bet on the winning horse by joining a large group that was likely to win.

"If everyone here agrees, I'd like to propose an even distribution," Hirata said. "We don't know which group will come out on top. If any of us gain private points from this exam, we'll distribute those points evenly across the class. That should be fine, since point transfers are allowed."

And if we got hit with a deduction, it wouldn't be so bad, since everyone would be sharing the load.

"Ah, I see. That's okay."

Of course, the more exceptional students would complain about this,

but considering what was at stake, a consensus seemed likely. "Heh."

After hearing Hirata's proposal, Chabashira chuckled, facing away from him.

"I didn't tell you this because you didn't ask, but as a reward for your promotion to Class C, I will give you one bit of helpful advice."

Advice?

Hirata looked cautious, not ready to accept this reward at face value. "When the rules don't forbid it, you're certainly free to transfer points.

Be it in the middle of an exam or in the course of your daily life—you can transfer points as much as you please, as long as you don't break any rules in the process. However, private points are not pocket money. You'd do well to remember that."

"Are you saying we could, like, transfer to any class we wanted if we accumulated like twenty million points? Or is this about the lifeline?"

"I'm saying there are many different ways of using private points.

Having as little as one point can help you in a time of need. Getting along and supporting each other isn't always going to be the correct answer, you understand? For example, let's say Ike made a mistake that would lead to him being expelled unless a million private points were paid right away—and the school disallowed transferring points in that instance. Ike would have to produce the million points himself or be expelled. What then? If you divide your points up equally, you might end up doing something you can't take back."

Ike gulped loudly when he heard himself used as an example.

"You can't count on other students to save you, because every single one of them might find themselves in need the next moment. The only one who can protect you is you, yourself," said Chabashira. "People who work hard are rewarded. That much is obvious. Once you enter the real world, it's exceedingly unlikely you'll find people who'd gladly share their salary and bonuses with friends."

Perhaps we should be grateful for the advice…but this was just going to make it harder to unite the class. I didn't doubt everything she was saying

was true; I couldn't imagine any teacher at this school would stir up trouble just because there was no precedent for something. Chabashira always played by the rules.

That said, there was more to this conversation.

I was sure there had been prior instances of individuals saving up private points. But conversely, I was equally sure there had been incidents where students were saved because their classmates had accumulated a great many points. How did I know this? Well, from personal experience. In the past, Horikita and I worked out a solution to provide Sudou with points when it seemed he was about to be expelled. That then set a precedent.

Ultimately, sharing points evenly among ourselves could be seen as a preventative measure to be deployed in unforeseen situations. Having individual students hold onto a large number of points raised the risk of that person embezzling those points or betraying the class.

Chabashira had just said something that disrupted her own class's chances at cohesion. I couldn't reject the possibility that it was just school policy, of course, but…

"Well, shall we put it to a majority vote? I'd like to at least hear what everyone is thinking. Can the people who want to split the rewards please raise your hands? It's okay if you change your mind later," said Hirata. He lifted his hand at once.

Only a few hands went up. Most of my classmates looked worried.

Coming together as a class was important, sure, but when push came to shove, you had to have a way to protect yourself. Most students probably had only somewhere between ten thousand to a hundred thousand private points. Given that, it was no wonder many wanted to keep those points as a safety net.

Students who lacked confidence in their own abilities, on the other hand, were more likely to want points to be shared across the class. There were a few more such students than I'd expected, but in the end, less than half the class raised their hands.

"Thank you."

The majority was against point splitting. Hirata's motion had failed.

"Was my advice unnecessary, Hirata?" Chabashira asked.

"No, I'm thankful for it. It's valuable information at this stage."

My phone vibrated. Thinking the certain individual whom I'd messaged might have replied, I took my phone out of my pocket—but it was his little sister, Horikita, who'd texted me. Naturally, it was about the special exam.

"Do you have any ideas?" she wrote. Jeez, always trying to make me do things.

"None," I replied. After thinking it over, I sent another message. "Guys and girls are going to be separated in this exam. I can't help with anything. Do your best."

My attempt to offer her some encouragement. I was sure Horikita had a lot she wanted to say in return, but I didn't want to listen. I closed the text thread and checked on another of my group chats: that of the Ayanokouji Group (named after myself, but not in a boastful way).

Keisei, Akito, and even Airi and Haruka all happily discussed the exam. I read through their texts, closed the chat without adding any comments, and resumed listening to Hirata.

"We don't have enough time to come up with a strategy," he was saying. "If the boys and girls are going to be separated, sending advice to each other will get tricky."

"No way…" The girls looked understandably uneasy at the prospect of being unable to turn to Hirata, who held the class together and had always been a guy they could rely on.

"Since the boys won't be able to lend a hand, I think the girls should decide on a leader right now. Will you accept the role, Horikita-san?"

Hirata had probably been chewing over this since Chabashira began to explain the exam. He'd singled out Horikita because she was the only one capable of handling the role.

"Very well. If anyone's having difficulties, feel free to approach me at any time. I don't mind," replied Horikita. She showed no signs of displeasure, but, even though she was gradually becoming more of a person our classmates could depend on, she didn't warrant anywhere near the level

of trust that Hirata did. Of course, being Horikita, she was surely aware of that.

"However, I'm sure quite a few of the other girls will find me lacking," she continued. "I don't like to say this of myself, but I have a somewhat abrasive personality."

Yeah, that really wasn't something anyone would want to admit. "Which is why I'd like Kushida-san to assist me. What do you think?"

said Horikita, directing this to Kushida, who sat near the front of the bus. "W-will I even be useful?" asked Kushida.

"Of course. Everyone in our class trusts you."

"Um… Well, okay. If you'd like, I'll help."

"Thank you. In the event someone finds it difficult to speak directly with me, you can do so via Kushida-san. I don't mind. I will respond to any issue, no matter how trivial."

While Kushida's trustworthiness was a matter of some concern, this strategy was unquestionably the best we had right now. The exam rules made it fairly difficult for guys and girls to meddle in each other's affairs. Despite being held in the same general facility, our classes and tests would take place in separate locations. The guys would have no opportunity to participate in any of the battles being fought on the girls' side. With our phones being confiscated to boot, our only opportunity for contact would be the one hour we had for dinner.

That being said, it was vital we be able to gather as much information as possible. I was going to need a gofer to funnel information to me from the girls. Kushida worried me. This left Horikita or Kei as options, and the former had a lot on her plate right now. I also had to consider the fact that she tended to read too much into my intentions and take unnecessary actions.

More importantly, if she was going to be fielding consultation pleas from the other girls, she probably wouldn't have energy to spare for much else. I supposed I'd have to use Kei after all, though I couldn't force her to survey the entire group by herself.

I sent the bare minimum of necessary information over to Kei's phone. She immediately replied with a blank message to confirm receipt. Given we'd

just learned that the unique nature of this test would force the guys and girls to do battle separately for a while, she must have assumed I'd be contacting her.

Kei probably wanted some advice herself right now. Considering the rules of this exam, particularly the ones about the representatives and their ability to take someone down with them, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that Kei might wind up as a sacrificial pawn. I couldn't say she was doing well at the moment, whether in terms of her test scores or her behavior in class.

That was why I was going to teach her a few tricks to protect herself.

They weren't things that every student could pull off, but they could keep you safer, if only slightly so.

As for me, I couldn't really care less about the special exam. I had no intention of executing any winning strategies. All I wanted was to make it through safely and without incident.

This didn't mean I wouldn't be making any moves at all—like what I'd just done by giving Kei advice. In a worst-case scenario, this special exam could lead to several students getting expelled from C Class. I couldn't protect the entire class by myself. I had to narrow down the list of people I wanted to safeguard.

Besides myself, I wanted to protect Kei, who'd become a staunch ally, and Hirata. Considering my involvement with the student council, I needed to ensure that Horikita stuck around, too. Then there were my friends: Keisei, Akito, Haruka, and Airi. They couldn't be my top priority, but as their friend, I certainly hoped they wouldn't be expelled.

Finally, given this rare opportunity for grade levels to intermingle, I should keep an eye on Nagumo's movements. Any other minor skirmishes that occurred around me were beneath my notice.

2.1

THE BUS GOT OFF the highway and began to drive up the paved mountain road. I wondered why our school outings always took place in nature, like this location or the ocean.

At any rate, a new special exam was about to begin. Given they were confiscating our phones, this was certainly going to be that annoying kind of test where you had to gather information either on your own or by using your connections. And, since more information would be leaked the more carelessly you acted, prudence and discretion would be vital.

"I'm not cut out for this…" I muttered, letting my honest thoughts slip

forth.

No matter how many special exams we went through, I just couldn't

get used to them. I'd so rarely had to cooperate with other people before.

"We will arrive shortly," Chabashira said. "Once there, you will form your groups. Then, as soon as room assignments have been completed, you will have lunch, followed by free time in the afternoon."

"That means… Yay! We don't have to study!" Ike beamed at me.

True, but this wasn't vacation. It was a school day. Even taking the travel time into account, it was odd that they were letting us off the hook this afternoon—it felt almost like a normal field trip, which couldn't be right.

The bus pulled into the stop and slowed to a halt.

"When your name is called, hand over your phone and get off the bus.

Ayanokouji. Ike—"

Chabashira started with the boys, calling our names in syllabary order. I turned my phone off and put it in a plastic box that sat next to our teacher. As I disembarked from the bus, an unfamiliar teacher approached, instructing us to wait a short distance away from the bus.

"Dude, it's cold!" shouted Ike, hugging himself tightly. Probably because we were in the mountains. It was certainly colder here than at school.

However, the sight before us made us forget the cold for a moment.

"Whoa. What is this place? This seems a lot for a 'school camp'…"

Enormous grounds spread out before us, with some extremely old- fashioned school buildings visible in the distance. Our home for the next week. They were huge, probably because they had to accommodate the students of all three grade levels.

It felt similar to the test on the uninhabited island. As with that test, I really didn't have much experience living out in the wilds like this. People like Ike, who had been a boy scout, were going to be useful here. So would those like Sudou, with their physical strength.

The girls filed off the bus next. It seemed like Horikita wanted to come talk to me, but unfortunately, we were already being queued up into separate lines. The boys and girls each headed for our respective school buildings, with the boys being directed to the larger one, referred to as the main building. Once inside, I found my nostrils tickled by the nostalgic scent of the wood-paneled interior.

"This really is a traditional wooden school building, isn't it? It's old, but still beautiful. It must be exceptionally well maintained," said Hirata.

Everyone else agreed.

Along the way, we saw what appeared to be a classroom. There was no air conditioning, only a single stove placed in the center of the room. We'd most likely be having classes from tomorrow in rooms like that.

Finally, we arrived at what seemed like a gymnasium. The guys from Class A and Class B, who were already there, looked over our way. The Class D students showed up right after us, so the second- and third-year students were probably on their way in next.

We were ordered to form a line and await further instruction. Classes A and B looked calm and didn't chat amongst themselves. They'd probably already finished strategizing on the bus, huh?

2.2

BOYS FROM EVERY grade level assembled inside the gymnasium. The bashful first-year students clumped together to wait in silence, and soon after, a teacher from one of the senior classes took to the stage, microphone in hand.

"I'm going to assume you all understand the contents of the exam after the explanation you were given on the bus ride," he addressed us. "Each grade level will now hold internal discussions and form into six small groups. The large groups will be formed at 8:00 p.m. today. That is all. As a reminder, the school will play no part in the formation of these groups, whether large or small. Nor will school officials act as mediators."

Okay, then. I wondered what the other classes' strategies were? They should have some plans in place already, but…we'd see how it went.

Each grade level—first-, second-, and third-years—distanced themselves from one another, and the discussions began. I was curious about what the seniors were doing, but it was hard to make out any details from here.

As I attempted to observe them, though, there was already movement taking place within the first-year classes. I'd thought we'd try to feel each other out a little longer, but Class A got straight to work, forming one large group. A pretty attention-grabbing move, given the stalemate we were in.

There were twenty boys in first-year Class A. Fourteen of them formed up into a single group, then made the following declaration to the people in Class B and below.

"As you can see, we in Class A intend to form a single group in this fashion. We have fourteen people at present and need one more person to meet the requirements. We are looking for someone to join us."

The person who said this was a Class A student named Matoba. I saw Katsuragi among the fourteen boys in the group, but if Matoba was the leader, did that mean Katsuragi wasn't the representative either? At any rate, this made it clear that Class A's strategy was to form a group made up of as

many of their own people as possible.

"Hey, hey! What the hell are you selfish punks doing? It ain't fair if you're the only ones who go and do something like that," said Sudou, glaring angrily at Class A.

"Is it selfish? Our group would comprise students representing only two classes. Even if we take first place, our modifier will be low. I don't think this is a greedy proposal at all."

"W-well, sure. But it's unfair that there's fourteen of ya."

"On the contrary, it's very fair. Since the remaining three classes can create three groups of fifteen people each, you can all make groups similar to ours. Right?"

"Uh, I guess?" said Sudou, not quite understanding. He looked to Hirata for help.

"That is correct, yes," said Hirata.

"Then this discussion is pointless. By the way, we've agreed that the six remaining boys from Class A will happily join whatever groups you make, no matter their makeup," said Matoba, smiling broadly. He turned to Class B's Kanzaki and Shibata as well.

"Um… Well, I guess this isn't really a bad deal at all. What do you think, Kanzaki?"

"Sorry, I need more time to answer that," Kanzaki said.

"I can't imagine that Class A students would go so far as to deliberately drag the other classes down, but I suppose it's best to be cautious…"

Class A was pushing everyone to come to a decision right away, but Kanzaki didn't seem inclined to rush. In response to his stalling, Matoba came back with a strongly worded statement. "You have five minutes. Please make your decision by then."

"A time limit? We've only just begun to discuss this. Class A gave us an opinion, not an order—you don't get to make an unilateral decision here. A five-minute window is absurd."

Despite Class A's claim that going along with their proposal meant

each class could make their own group of fourteen people, it would be a lie to say that this was fair for all classes. If you thought about it, Class A was the only class that could afford not to care about a low reward modifier. They were currently ranked first and leading in points.

"I suppose it wouldn't be fair of us to make this decision solely by ourselves," Matoba said. "But you misunderstand. We're not saying we won't negotiate after the five minutes are up. We're just offering special terms for someone within that five minutes."

"Special terms?"

Matoba continued to control the conversation, precisely because the other classes had yet to solidify what they wanted. This was certainly close to what you'd call a preemptive strike.

"Class A is going to form one group of fourteen people, meaning we require one student from another class. Setting aside the merits of this strategy, it's certainly true that we're selfishly pushing this idea on you. As such, the single person whom we will welcome into our group will receive special treatment," he explained eloquently.

This had to be the strategy they'd come up with on the bus. "The student who joins our group will bear no risk whatsoever.

Katsuragi-kun will act as the group's representative, and in the unlikely event that we place last, he will take full responsibility. No one will be dragged down via the solidarity rule. Of course, this only applies so long as the special entrant doesn't intentionally lower our scores or hurt our friends. If your exam scores are genuinely poor despite your best efforts, that's fine."

So these were the special terms, huh? "Are you serious…?"

The proposal had its merits. Gathering skilled team members in one place to create a group with a high point modifier might be necessary to advance a class, but it was those skilled people—the people at the very heart of the class—who bore the risks of such a strategy going sour. From the perspective of an average student, who grappled with fears of expulsion, Matoba's proposed system of special treatment wasn't a bad idea at all. It would guarantee they made it safely through this special exam.

Still, why wasn't Katsuragi the one suggesting this? Was this the fallout of him losing status within the class?

"We intend to take first place, meaning there is a strong possibility that our special entrant will be rewarded with private points. Aren't many of you nervous about this special exam?" asked Matoba, looking around. His words clearly resonated with the less secure students. "However, if you cannot decide within the five-minute window, the special offer expires. In the unlikely event that our class does receive a penalty, we will not hesitate to drag that student down with us."

"It's an interesting proposal. But after the five minutes have passed, the value of joining your group plummets significantly. No one wants to join a team with such a high risk of taking them down with it," said Kanzaki.

"Yeah, that's right. Who'd be crazy enough to do that?" said a student who'd been briefly charmed by the idea of the special terms.

"I don't mind what you think. But these are our terms," said Matoba, taking a step back. His group moved with him, signaling the end of the discussion.

"I think we're better off ignoring them. Once five minutes have passed, no one will want to join their group. They'll be back," said Kanzaki.

"Suppose so," said Shibata.

Having said that, they moved calmly away. I didn't see Kaneda and the other newly demoted Class D students making any strange movements either.

Hirata, however, seemed to be the sole person who felt differently about Class A's proposal. He approached Keisei, Akito, and me, asking, "What do you think?" in a low voice.

"About their strategy?" replied Keisei, taking the lead in the conversation.

"Yeah. Surprisingly enough, I don't think it's a bad deal. It is absolutely essential that everyone in Class C makes it through. We've only just been promoted, and I don't want any of my classmates to be expelled. If a student who's nervous about this exam joins Class A's group, they should be able to rest easy," said Hirata.

As a defensive strategy, Class A's proposal had its merits.

"Of course, it remains to be seen whether Class A will keep their promise of special treatment. If they wind up taking last place, they might use the solidarity rule to take someone down with them, after all," he added.

Hirata's anxieties were understandable. Verbal agreements were binding in nature, but even if we confronted Class A about it in the wake of a betrayal, they could trap us in endless arguments that went nowhere. If they feigned ignorance, then things would get complicated. After all, their promise hinged on no one intentionally sabotaging the group. If a student's exam scores were low, it would be difficult to prove whether or not it was intentional.

Still, we couldn't exactly get it in writing; there weren't any pens or paper at hand. The teachers had been ordered not to help, so asking them to bear witness to a verbal promise would probably be useless too.

That being said, Matoba's words had piqued the interest of all of the first-year students. He stood to gain nothing by going back on his words. It might be okay to trust Class A on this.

"…It might be possible to have them protect one person," I stated, joining Hirata and Keisei's conversation.

"Yeah. If we make a move now, that just leaves the question of what B and D decide…"

Accepting the offer would be seen as siding with Class A, who had opted for a heavy-handed approach. Even though we only had a tiny window, Hirata seemed to want to think this over until the last possible second.

Roughly three minutes had passed since Class A's sudden proposal. We didn't know whether they were dutifully counting every second, but Matoba and the others seemed to be leisurely standing by.

Maybe they were expecting someone to raise their hand. Or maybe they were thinking up another strategy. We watched them carefully for the remaining two minutes, waiting for them to make their move—though what they would do, of course, depended on the leaders of classes B and below.

"Kanzaki-shi. I have a proposal. Would you care to hear it?" said Kaneda.

Rather than whisper, he raised his voice boldly so that everyone could hear, beckoning Hirata to join them too.

"I've determined that this is an opportunity we should seize," he said. "Thanks to Class A forming up like this, even if their group does happen to win in this exam, they only get a point modifier for representing two classes. Moreover, if we accept their conditions, we can assign the remaining Class A students as we see fit. We could configure the remaining groups to include students from all four classes, meaning the higher those groups ranked, the greater the likelihood of their members closing the gap between their class and Class A. Correct?"

"That's only if we can rank higher than them, though."

I didn't know what the exact scores were, but during the Paper Shuffle, Class A had destroyed Class B. In a test of academic skill, this could end badly.

"It's certainly risky. However, this isn't merely a question of academics. What do you think? I say we try to overthrow Class A here and now," said Kaneda.

In other words, have B, C, and D cooperate to lay siege against Class A

here.

"Letting Class A have a group of fourteen of their people is a small

price to pay, compared to the point multiplier for representing all four classes in a single group. With their offer of special treatment on top of that, it should work out perfectly."

"That's right. I like Kaneda-kun's strategy," said Hirata. Kanzaki, more cautious, continued to ruminate on the benefits of having people from all four classes in a single group.

"But who's going to join Class A's main group?" he said. "I doubt any Class B students want to team up with them. Myself included."

Even if the special entrant would be protected from expulsion, he'd be spending the week in a group made up only of Class A students. It was safe to say it wouldn't be the most comfortable time.

"Let's ask students from Classes B and D. Would anyone like to step forward?" said Hirata.

We looked at each other. But no one raised their hand.

"Then I'd like to ask Class C. Would anyone like to step forward?"

asked Hirata, directing the question to our own class this time. But he got the same reaction.

Some were likely considering the offer because of the special quota but also anxious about having everyone's eyes on them. Not to mention being behind enemy lines for a week.

"This is just my opinion," said Hirata, "but I think Class A will keep their word."

"How can you know that?"

"Because they're Class A, I suppose. If they do force a lower-ranking student into expulsion despite their promise, no one will ever trust them enough to make a deal with them again. We're only in the third semester of our first year. To lose credibility now would be a significant setback."

Hirata's words made sense. If this were a final, decisive battle, Class A might act without care for their reputation. But they still had over two years to go. If they were seen to keep their word here, they could continue to use similar methods in the exams to come. Hirata was saying they wouldn't do anything too reckless just yet.

"Not to praise an enemy, but this is Class A. Their grades are simply better than ours. I doubt they'll come last or drop below the average. Your safety would be guaranteed."

Ike and the others could understand that temptation well. "Fortunately, there don't appear to be any Class B or D candidates. I'd

like to choose someone from Class C to join A's group. Even if they do win, our class would benefit, and someone would avoid the chance of expulsion. How does that sound?" said Hirata.

He specifically directed his gaze to Ike and Yamauchi, no doubt wanting to protect students who were anxious about their abilities. He made sure to confirm the truth of what he was saying with Matoba too.

"Even if the special entrant scores below the group's average, do you promise you won't seek to punish them?" he asked Matoba.

"Of course. We ask nothing of that student. If they uphold the conditions I outlined earlier, they have my word."

"I suppose I'll do it," muttered Ike. Upon hearing that, Yamauchi said

the same.

"I think I would like to volunteer myself as well," added the Professor, bringing us to three candidates.

"To keep things fair, how about we settle this with rock-paper- scissors? The winner joins the group," suggested Hirata. They did just that, with Yamauchi emerging victorious, making him the person chosen to join Class A's main group. And thus, the first group was formed. They reported to Mashima-sensei, leaving the six remaining Class A students behind.

"Now we can form the remaining groups however we wish. I suppose we could do as Class A suggested and form three groups of fourteen people from the same class. And, just like Class A, we could pledge not to invoke the solidarity rule against the one person from another class. Personally, however, I would prefer we do as I had suggested earlier and blend all four classes together."

"That's right. Now that we're goin' with Class A's plan, I think we should blend 'em."

"No objections here. What do you say, Class C?"

Kanzaki and Kaneda's strategy was one designed to secure the highest point multiplier.

"If we're aiming to win, this is what we need to do. No argument from

me."

"Wait a minute, Hirata. Is this really okay? Like, I don't wanna join a

group with someone like Ishizaki in it," interrupted Sudou.

It wasn't just Sudou either. Keisei and other Class C students felt similarly, and grumbled complaints could be heard from a number of Class B and D students too. Having students from all four classes got you a high multiplier, but it also courted conflict. If students who fought like cats and dogs got stuck in the same group, it might even affect scores.

"I understand. I don't think this is something we can decide immediately. What works for Class A may not work for us."

Given how satisfied the Class A students looked, they'd probably agreed to split the rewards equally among all their classmates. They might even have promised to give the six students excluded from their main group a

greater share of the rewards to offset the greater risks they faced. They could afford to do so precisely because they were Class A and in a relatively safe position.

"Why don't we form hypothetical groups for the time being? If anyone objects, we can stop and start over."

"Sounds good. Trying to feel things out wastes precious time and won't get us to a consensus, and Class A's already moved onto the next step."

Arguing back and forth would get us nowhere. The other students must have been leaving matters to their respective leaders, because there were almost no dissenting opinions.

"No objections here," said Kaneda, accepting the offer without any resistance. We began to form groups smoothly and efficiently. Even though no one had spoken up, though, many students still wore skeptical looks on their faces.

Ryuuen, not Kaneda, had been Class D's original leader. Everyone here was aware of that. But Ryuuen wasn't participating in the group discussion at all. In fact, he was keeping his distance from everyone and didn't even look like he was paying attention. Now that the third semester was underway, it was common knowledge that he'd vacated his position of authority a while ago. Among the students who didn't know the specific details behind his fall, there were several who suspected that the whole thing was a charade.

"I'd like to ask you something. Did Ryuuen tell you to do this?" asked Shibata, voicing the question Hirata and even Kanzaki didn't dare to.

Kaneda removed his glasses and blew dust off the lenses. "No. This was my idea. His opinions are irrelevant. And even if he and I were collaborating behind the scenes, I'm the one talking to you right now. Any problem with that?"

His expression turned somewhat grim.

"I just wanted to make sure. Sorry if I offended you," Shibata apologized.

"You didn't. Now let's continue with our discussion. We don't have

the time for chit-chat."

Designing these groups was a tricky task. Each group would have to work as a team, while their individual members tried to avoid expulsion and assist their class at the same time. It might sound easy, but it wasn't. The process of group formation involved securing capable players while trying not to get stuck with any duds.

We needed to make sure the students who were likely to drag the rest down wound up in someone else's group. Hirata, Kanzaki, and Kaneda chose to act as representatives for their respective groups, shelving the matter of the remaining small groups for now.

Immediate volunteers from Class C flocked to Hirata. Having a classmate as your group representative meant you were probably safe from being dragged down with them via the solidarity rule, and you already knew them well to boot. A good way to minimize interference from other classes. People clustered in this fashion, with Class B showing similar trends. Their group members were decided faster than I could have imagined.

Class D was the last to form up, and they did so slowly. I probably wasn't the only one keeping my eye on them. Prominent students like Kanzaki and Shibata were observing them, of course, but so were many others, all curious to know exactly how Ryuuen Kakeru fit into the Class D puzzle right now.

No one trusted Class D at all. Understandable, given how many times Ryuuen Kakeru had tried to entrap us.

"What are you going to do, Kiyotaka?" Keisei and Akito came over to check in with me.

"What about you?" I asked, batting the question back at them while donning a conflicted expression face.

"I'm thinking of sticking with Keisei. I mean, using my head really isn't my strong suit."

"…A group composed mainly of C Class students is appealing. It's just, well, to be honest…I'm not really satisfied with Hirata's way of doing things."

"Meaning?" asked Akito, not understanding what Keisei was getting

at.

"Hirata focuses on protecting his comrades, rather than winning. That's

not a bad thing, but it doesn't advance us as a class. Also, Ike, Onizuka, and Sotomura are hoping to join Hirata's group. How they perform will depend on the nature of the upcoming tests, of course. They might even score better than me. But it's far more likely that they won't, given what this exam is shaping up to be like."

"Well, that's true…"

"Class A isn't an unruly mob. Even if Yamauchi drags them down, it's doubtful Hirata's group could win against them. The only thing we accomplish under his strategy is avoiding being taken out by the solidarity rule. Given that, I think that I'd rather be the minority in another group. We should aim for victory, using an elite few."

"If this whole thing comes down to average scores, that's a solid approach, I suppose."

There were eighty boys in the first year, twenty in each respective class. If we divided them up, here's how the four main groups would look:

GROUP A (14 A, 1 C) = 15 people

GROUP B (12 B, 1 A, 1 C, 1 D) = 15 people

GROUP C (12 C, 1 A, 1 B, 1 D) = 15 people

GROUP D (12 D, 1 A, 1 C, 1 B) = 15 people

That left twenty people (three from Class A, six from B, five from C, six from D) who would probably have to form two groups. However, while the majority of students were doing as their class leaders directed, some didn't seem inclined to cooperate. One such student was unmistakably Class D's Ryuuen Kakeru, who had avoided interacting with anyone, standing around alone as if he had no interest in participating in this exam in the first place.

Despite being alone, it didn't look like he was wallowing in loneliness, or anything. If anything, he looked like he was proudly waiting out his

solitude. Either way, one of the remaining groups was going to have to take him in.

There was only one student I could imagine doing such a thing in a situation where even Ishizaki, Ryuuen's classmate, wouldn't talk to him.

"Ryuuen-kun. Would you care to join our team?" Of course, it was Hirata.

I could understand why someone like Ryuuen, who'd halfway retired from inter-class competition, would find a mandatory-collaboration exam like this one annoying. That said, he probably wouldn't imprudently defy the school's will either.

"Wait, Hirata! Taking Ryuuen? That isn't funny!"

Everyone who'd joined Hirata's group resisted. Who'd want to work alongside the ultimate ticking time bomb? Ryuuen was the single most unnecessary element of a strategy to climb to Class A. The students understood this—but at the same time, they had doubts rising within them.

Doubts, that is, about the scenario where they graduated "from a class other than A."

Failing to graduate in Class A meant they would never benefit from this school's too-good-to-be-true guarantee of getting you into any institution or career you wanted. What was even the point of graduating if you couldn't do it in Class A?

That question haunted everyone at this school. It was the same kind of mingled unease you got when good news and bad news reached you at the same time. Without Class A, you'd be labeled an underperformer.

Universities or workplaces might outright refuse to admit or hire those who didn't have what it took.

Of course, there were undoubtedly many who held graduates of the Advanced Nurturing High School in high regard. Spending three long, hard years in the pure meritocracy of a government-sponsored school had its own value. Graduating from this school at all was still a substantial achievement, as long as you didn't get your hopes up too high.

As for the second-year students, Nagumo was already top dog of Class A, far ahead of Class B and below. With a year left to go, other classes could

still turn things around, but it was an uphill battle. The third-year students had it tough, too. While their situation certainly wasn't as one-sided as the

second-years, I had heard that Class A, where Horikita's brother was placed, had never once surrendered its lead and was still going strong.

At this point, there was almost no chance for the second- and third- years in Class D to make any kind of comeback, barring some kind of miracle… Maybe if this were one of those quiz shows where you could shoot to first place simply by getting the crucial final question right. But I doubted that would happen here.

Putting aside the first-year students who hadn't yet grasped the bigger picture, everyone was likely terrified of expulsion. I couldn't imagine a university or employer welcoming an expelled student with open arms.

The systems in place for this exam, like the solidarity rule, were deterrents at best.

The systems in place in this exam, like the representative being able to drag someone down with them, was at most a deterrent. It was a rule created to ensure that students wouldn't be getting forcefully expelled. However, being vigilant was still important. There was still a possibility that there was a student out there who didn't mind getting expelled, and in the off chance that a representative gets expelled, they probably wouldn't hesitate to bring someone else down with them.

This meant everyone would be wise to score higher than their representative, even if only by one point, to escape the solidarity rule. Also, it was important not to incur the representative's wrath.

"Oh, ho, ain't you a big shot, Hirata, takin' me in. But it doesn't look like people are on board," said Ryuuen.

That's right. They wouldn't agree, and the group wouldn't form unless Hirata managed to talk them into it.

"Hey, Keisei. Wouldn't being part of an elite crew be pretty risky?" muttered Akito, looking at the remaining members.

"Yeah, maybe more than I thought."

Keisei let out an exasperated sigh. Aside from me, the remaining five Class C students were Keisei, Akito, the Professor, Onizuka, and Kouenji.

The Professor and Onizuka had wanted to join Hirata's group, but that group was full up. As for Kouenji, he did his own thing, so to speak. He didn't participate in any discussion.

We could argue that we'd like those five to all stick together, but then we'd have two groups of ten remaining, meaning the other classes wouldn't be able to make the same move. On top of that, since there were practically no students left who would proactively step up and take on the role of representative, students' movements became rigid, as if time had come to a halt.

"As long as I'm not in a group with Ryuuen, I'm good," said a Class B student.

"I'd also like to avoid Ryuuen," said Keisei.

Everyone was on team Not Ryuuen, probably because they had no idea what he might do next. Even his old allies, like Ishizaki, kept their distance.

Shiina Hiyori, who hadn't been involved in that rooftop scuffle, might have supported Ryuuen, but she wasn't here.

"This isn't going to be easy."

"The best plan would be to put him with the Class D group." "That would be great, sure, but we're in a bit of a bind right now."

"I heard they had a falling out. But I don't have enough evidence to

know if that's true."

It was understandable that Kanzaki—no, that everyone here—would have doubts. They probably saw this whole situation as Class D intentionally cutting Ryuuen loose in the hopes he'd sabotage someone else.

"Kanzaki-kun," Hirata said. "If Ryuuen-kun really is having trouble, I think that we should do something about it."

"By 'do something about it,' you mean Classes B and C should help him. Is that it?"

"Yes."

"Even if it helps out Class D, two other classes would be hurt in the process. If you weigh the risks, it's not a good idea."

Kanzaki was right. If including Ryuuen meant taking a risk, then that

risk should be shouldered by his own class. Kaneda and Ishizaki might not like the situation, but they had no right to saddle another class with Ryuuen, and we didn't need to take responsibility for their problems.

Mind you, if we'd been competing in pairs, Hirata would probably have paired up with Ryuuen in the blink of an eye. But this was a group test. One person's goodwill couldn't carry the day, as evinced by the silence that followed.

It seemed forming groups was going to take longer than expected. The paranoia and suspicion emerging from the three groups that had formed right off the bat as a result of excluding Ryuuen didn't help.

2.3

"ALLOW ME to suggest something. The problem we're facing right now is Ryuuen. We're fighting over which group to put him in, right? In that case, I'd be willing to act as a group's representative in exchange for that group taking Ryuuen," said Akito, who had been carefully observing the situation next to me.

Of course, declaring that he would accept Ryuuen when no one else wanted to instantly raised people's suspicions.

"What are you plotting?"

"It's simple. In return, I want the lion's share of the reward for first place."

I didn't think people would resist the idea, but then again, they all understood that taking in Ryuuen came with great risks. It was just that, well…I never imagined

Akito would make a move with the intention of getting the reward. I suspected he was simply trying to come up with a reason to take Ryuuen in, since no one else was willing to do so.

"What are you proposing, exactly? You're not planning to use the solidarity rule to take someone else down with you if it comes to that, are you?"

"Unless someone tries to blatantly sabotage me, I won't do that. And the rules say I can't, anyway."

The members of the hypothetical groups fell silent after hearing Akito's well-reasoned argument. And so, despite encountering a few bumps in the road, the first-years finally managed to form six groups.

This included my group, which was composed as follows: From Class C, we had Kouenji, Keisei, and me. Three people.

From Class B, we had Sumida, Moriyama, and Tokitou. Three people. From Class A, we had Yahiko and Hashimoto. Two people.

Then, from Class D, we had Ishizaki and Albert. Two people. Ten people in total.

Our group was clearly unlike the other five. We had a far more even mix of students from different classes, though I supposed the group Akito was representing wasn't too far off. However, my group still needed a representative. None of us seemed to have great leadership skills, and no one was stepping forward to claim the role. With no one around to take the lead and guide everyone toward a consensus, we all sat there, not knowing what to say.

Anyway, we had to at least report to the school that we'd successfully formed our group. We could select the representative later. So the ten of us— group number six—headed over to report to the school officials.

"Even though we managed to avoid having Ryuuen, I'm still worried about getting a decent average score," said Keisei anxiously.

I wasn't certain how good the other students were either. Personally, I'd wanted to avoid being in the same group as Ishizaki and Albert, but there was nothing to be done about it at this point. Ishizaki was blatantly refusing to meet my eyes, but that didn't necessarily mean that a third party was going to notice anything was up. Most people would assume he simply thought nothing of me.

"Kouenji is going to be a problem too," I said.

If Kouenji would take things seriously, he'd be unstoppable. His athletic and academic abilities were impressive. But "take things seriously" was where things fell apart.

"I mean, he's Kouenji, but he wouldn't really do something that gets us penalized, right? If he does, maybe it's all over."

I had a feeling Kouenji would score above average, but would do it in an aimless, noncommittal way. The only certain thing about him was that his motives were impenetrable. If he remained unmotivated, our future was uncertain.

When we finished giving our report, I noticed a group hanging around. It was the one with mostly Class A students, who should've been long gone. At first, I thought they wanted to find out how the remaining five groups had

organized themselves, but it seemed that wasn't the case. There were second- and third-year students waiting around, too. More importantly, so was Student Council President Nagumo Miyabi, who ruled the second-years with an iron hand.

After confirming that all the first-year students had formed their groups, he called out to me. "You guys were surprisingly quick. I thought that would take you longer."

It seemed the second- and third-year students were almost all done composing their small groups too.

"I have a proposal for you first-years," Nagumo said. "How about we form a large group right now?"

"Aren't we going to decide that tonight, Nagumo-senpai?"

"That's just the school being flexible. They didn't expect that the small groups would form so quickly. Since all grade levels have finished, wouldn't it be best if we moved on to the next step?"

Apparently, his suggestion was unexpected—even to the teachers.

Sensing that we were about to start forming large groups, the teachers began to move in a hurry. Since the student council president himself had proposed this, the other students could hardly refuse.

"You don't mind, do you, Horikita-senpai?" "I don't. This is more convenient for us too."

Discussions were underway, with Nagumo at the center.

"So, how do we do this? Should we have a draft-pick system? One person from each of the first-year small groups plays rock-paper-scissors against the others. The outcomes determine the order in which people make their picks. Based on that order, they can choose which second- or third-year small groups they want, and thus we'll get large groups. A fair and quick process."

"The first-years don't have much information to go on. That doesn't seem fair."

"It's never going to be completely fair. We all have different amounts of information, in the end."

A brief but important conversation between Nagumo and Horikita's brother followed. There was no way a first-year could interrupt

"What do you first-years think? If you have any complaints, speak up," said Nagumo, knowing full well that no one would talk back to him.

"We have no objections," answered Matoba, apparently now representing the first-years.

"I see. In that case, how 'bout we get started?"

Nagumo smiled, and then joined up with his own small group. The second- and third-year students reformed their groups so that it was easier for us to tell them apart. Then the representatives of five small first-year groups stepped forward. Nagumo regarded us fondly, like we were adorable children.

"Now all that's left is that group."

My small group was the only one that had yet to pick a representative, so naturally, none of us were stepping up to play rock-paper-scissors. I lightly pushed Keisei, making sure I wasn't noticed. He looked puzzled but then reluctantly raised his hand.

The six representatives formed a circle and started playing. Keisei was selected to pick fourth. First up was Matoba's group, which was mostly filled with Class A students. Second was Hirata's group, consisting mostly of Class C students. Third was the Class D group, represented by Kaneda.

"You can discuss among yourselves which group you'd like to pick."

Two groups that immediately stood out as top choices: the group containing the leader of second-year Class A, the student council president Nagumo, and the group led by Horikita's brother, a third-year student. But someone like Hirata, who had many friends and acquaintances across different grade levels, might be able to spot an excellent group that didn't appear to be one at first glance.

Matoba's group, the first to pick, chose the third-year group containing Horikita Manabu without hesitation. Next, Hirata carefully assessed each of the eleven groups. In the end, he didn't go with one of the two obvious choices I mentioned but picked a group of third-years that didn't have a single person I recognized.

"Hey, Hirata, you sure that's a good idea? Shouldn't you pick the student council president's or something?" Ike interrupted, unsurprisingly.

"Yes, I'm sure. I think this is a good choice. Exceptional people have their appeal, sure, but they can bring trouble in their wake. Besides, the seniors I chose aren't half bad," replied Hirata, nodding with apparent confidence.

Ike decided not to push the matter, a sign of the trust Hirata had cultivated with our class.

The majority-Class-D group was next. Kaneda consulted his classmates—which is to say he simply informed them which group he wanted to choose. There were no objections, and he made his selection immediately.

"I would like to join second-year Gouda-senpai's group, please." Once again, Nagumo's group had been passed over.

"I wonder why they're avoiding Nagumo," I muttered doubtfully.

Akito, standing next to me, offered an answer.

"Because aside from Nagumo-senpai, the other members are kind of

iffy."

"Is that so?"

"Well, I suppose they're not all iffy, but there are a lot of C and D

guys. The second-year group with lots of Class A students is the one Kaneda picked."

In other words, it wasn't that Kaneda had avoided picking Nagumo— just that he had chosen reliable, strong allies. I was curious as to why Nagumo hadn't formed a group of mostly Class A students. I knew he controlled all the second-years; bringing members of his own class together seemed like a more reliable option.

Finally, it was Keisei's turn. "Is it okay for me to decide?" he asked the rest of the group.

"I don't care. Don't really get it, anyway," said Ishizaki.

It seemed Ishizaki, and by extension the Class D students, were fine with leaving the decision to Keisei. The Class A students had no real opinion on the matter either. The Class B students said nothing at first, but after thinking it over for a while, they made the following request.

"Please pick Nagumo-senpai's group."

Though Nagumo's group was mostly composed of Class C and D students, I was guessing it was the presence of the council president that made them rate it so highly. After hearing the Class B students' request, Keisei chose Nagumo's group.

After that, discussion came to an end. The six large groups had formed successfully.

"Horikita-senpai, since we're in separate large groups, how about we have ourselves a little contest?" proposed Nagumo. Horikita shot him a sharp look.

I heard a somewhat exasperated sigh, and a third-year named Fujimaki stepped forward to admonish Nagumo. I recognized him as the person who'd taken charge during the Sports Festival, meaning he wielded a certain degree of influence.

"Nagumo. How many times have you done this? Enough already." "Whatever do you mean, Fujimaki-senpai?"

"You keep challenging Horikita to competitions. I've never interfered before, but this is a large-scale special exam that includes the first-year students. You cannot treat this like your own personal game."

"Why do you say that? Distinctions like first and third year no longer apply right now. Challenging someone under such conditions is hardly unusual, is it? There's nothing in the special exam rulebook to forbid it." Rather than cower before Fujimaki's impressive bulk, Nagumo chose to taunt him.

"We're talking fundamental morals here. Even if something isn't expressly against the rules, some actions are good, and some are bad. That's obvious."

"I don't really think so. If anything, it's precisely seniors like you who hinder the growth of younger students by refusing to do battle with them, wouldn't you say?"

"You may be student council president, but that doesn't mean you can do as you please. You need to be aware of the fact that you're overstepping your authority."

"If you think that's the case, then please, make me aware of it. How

about you be my opponent, Fujimaki-senpai? You're third-year Class A's number two, aren't you?" replied Nagumo, stuffing his hands arrogantly into his pockets, acting as though Fujimaki were an afterthought.

It was cheap provocation, but it seemed to successfully antagonize some of the third-years. A few students started to step forward. However, Horikita kept them back.

"I have rejected your demands until now," Horikita said. "Do you know why?"

"Hmm, let's see. I'd say it's because your friends are scared you might lose, but that can't be right. You are superior to every other person I've met, Horikita-senpai. You're not afraid to lose. You never even think that you could lose."

The second-year students listening to Nagumo wore worshipful looks on their faces. He wasn't a friend or a patron. He was a rival, a hated enemy, but also someone they deeply respected. It seemed he inspired a variety of powerful emotions, anyway.

In the two years he'd been at this school, Nagumo had accomplished many things that no ordinary person could. Not even the third-year students could comprehend the extent of his achievements. The first-year students even less so.

"I'm the same as you, Fujimaki-senpai. I don't want any futile conflict either."

"The conflict you do want gets too many other people involved." "But that's just how this school works. And I think that's the best part

of it… Well, I suppose it comes down to a difference of opinion. At any rate, I wish we could have had a little showdown in that relay during the Sports Festival, senpai. Alas, that didn't happen. I'm still really frustrated about that, y'know?"

"I can't imagine what a showdown between the second- and third-years would do to help us in this exam."

"You're probably right. You're that kind of person, senpai. But all I want is a battle between the former student council president and the current student council president. You're going to graduate soon. Before that

happens, I want to see whether I've surpassed you."

There was no telling if Nagumo would ever stop. It was like he was possessed by some kind of unceasing longing.

"What would the battle even be?" Horikita asked.

The third-year students looked shocked at the implication he might be about to accept Nagumo's challenge.

"How about which of us can get the most students expelled?" replied Nagumo.

Everyone, from first-years to third-years, started murmuring amongst themselves.

"Stop joking."

"I really do think that would be interesting. But if you insist…how about which group can earn the higher average score? Simple and easy to understand."

"Very well. I accept."

"Thank you. I knew you wouldn't disappoint, senpai."

"However, this is a personal battle between you and me. Don't drag anyone else into it."

"Don't drag others into it? Given the rules of this special exam, I would think getting someone to drag your opponent's group down was a valid strategy."

"That's the very opposite of what the essence of this exam is meant to be. This is, at most, an exercise to test our group's unity. The point of the test isn't to exploit a weakness in an opponent's group, even if you happen upon one by accident."

"…What does that mean?" said Ishizaki, seemingly directing his question at Keisei.

"It means we play fair and square, based on our abilities and nothing more. To put it simply—no dirty tricks. No kicking our opponents while they're down, like Ryuuen likes to do," Keisei answered.

"I see."

Ignoring Keisei and Ishizaki, Horikita's brother and Nagumo continued with their discussion.

"If you don't agree to my conditions, I won't accept your challenge," said Horikita. In all likelihood, the ultimatum was meant as a way to hamstring Nagumo.

"So I can't win by attacking Horikita-senpai's pawns, huh? Fine." I'd expected him to object, but surprisingly, Nagumo agreed readily enough.

However, Horikita's brother wasn't finished.

"This isn't limited to my group. I refuse to acknowledge any methods that cause harm to spill over to other students either. Our competition is invalid the moment I determine you've been meddling in others' affairs."

"Just as I'd expect, senpai. You miss nothing. I'd considered recruiting other groups to launch a joint attack, but…" Nagumo smiled audaciously. "Well, since I'm the only one who really wants to compete, I don't mind agreeing to a certain number of conditions. All right. Fair and square, let's see who scores higher and works better as a group or whatever. Ah, let me say this, though—no need to penalize the loser, yeah? After all, our pride is what's on the line here."

Horikita's brother said nothing to either confirm or deny that. That probably meant he didn't even intend to put his pride on the line for this.