48 The Class Vote Special Exam - 2

The discussion at the Ayanokoji Group's table continued.

Yukimura proposed a simple strategy. "We should at least use our three praise votes on each other," he suggested, "to guarantee some level of safety within the group. Then, for the criticism votes, we can target someone else in the class."

Kiyotaka, Airi, Hasabe, and Akito all nodded in agreement. Yukimura's suggestion provided a baseline of security for their group while allowing them some flexibility with their criticism votes.

After finishing their lunches and snacks with a sense of urgency, the group dispersed. Ayanokoji, however, wasn't quite finished. He slipped away from the bustling cafeteria and made his way towards a secluded alleyway. Here, away from prying eyes, he met with Sakura Airi. Gone was the casualness of the group setting, replaced by a more intimate atmosphere.

"Kiyotaka," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

They moved deeper into the darkness, their bodies pressed close together. Here, away from prying eyes, they shed their masks of student and classmate, becoming simply Kiyotaka and Airi.

"I need your help," Kiyotaka began, his voice devoid of emotion. "Use your influence to find out how the others are planning to vote."

Airi tilted her head, her brow furrowed in thought. "You want me to pry into their decisions?"

"Not pry," Kiyotaka corrected, "but subtly gauge their opinions. Can you manage that?"

Airi considered this for a moment, then a confident smile bloomed on her face. "Leave it to me. I can probably sniff out the choices of at least ten or eleven classmates, boys and girls alike."

Kiyotaka raised an eyebrow, impressed by her reach. "Eleven? You've built quite a network within the class."

A soft blush crept up Airi's cheeks.

Ayanokoji's impassive facade softened a fraction. Eleven students was a significant portion of Class D, and with Sakura's insights, he could formulate a more sophisticated strategy.

Their conversation concluded with a passionate kiss, the intensity a stark contrast to the calculating nature of their earlier exchange.

With a quick farewell, Sakura disappeared back into the bustling school grounds.

He didn't stay there long.

Kiyotaka sent a discreet message to Kushida Kikyou, another valuable source of information. He needed a complete picture of the situation, not just within his own class.

Returning to his dorm room, Kiyotaka found Kushida Kikyou waiting outside, a hint of apprehension flickering in her eyes.

"Ayanokoji-kun?" she stammered, her eyes wide. "I, uh, I got your message."

Kiyotaka opened the door, a blank expression on his face. "Come in, Kushida-san," he said, his voice monotone.

Kushida stepped hesitantly inside, the door clicking shut behind her with a finality that made her swallow nervously. The room was sparsely furnished, the only decorations a few strategically placed books and a lone chessboard.

Kiyotaka gestured towards his bed, the only other place to sit. Kushida sat down on the edge, her hand hovering over the soft comforter, her eyes darting around the room.

"You wanted to know about the Class Vote?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Indeed," Kiyotaka replied, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me, Kushida-san, what are the other classes up to?"

Kushida launched into her report. From what she'd gathered, Class A seemed to be targeting Katsuragi Kohei for expulsion. Apparently, Sakayanagi had somehow convinced the class to view him as the weakest link," Kushida finished, her voice laced with a hint of surprise. "Who would've thought?"

Kushida continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "As for Class B, they're a mess. They haven't settled on a strategy yet. Apparently, they're banking on Ichinose somehow acquiring enough points to avoid expelling anyone."

Ayanokoji leaned back against the headboard, his eyes narrowed in thought. "And Class C?"

"Disaster," Kushida said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Ryuen seems to be public enemy number one. Everyone in his class is planning to vote him out."

A flicker of amusement crossed Ayanokoji's face, quickly replaced by his usual stoicism. "Ryuen's expulsion would certainly be interesting," he mused.

As Kushida finished her report, a heavy silence settled in the room. Kiyotaka, still impassive, reached out and started unbuttoning her shirt. Kushida's breath hitched. This wasn't part of the plan. A flicker of fear, quickly masked by a practiced smile, played across her features.

"Kiyotaka-kun," she began, her voice barely a squeak. "What are you doing?"

"Relax, Kushida-san," he said, his voice calm and devoid of emotion. "This conversation requires… a certain level of trust."

He continued unbuttoning her shirt, revealing glimpses of her pale skin. Kushida, caught off guard, found herself frozen. Her mind raced, trying to decipher his motives. Was this a threat?

As the last button came undone, revealing a glimpse of creamy white skin and a lacy bra, he gestured for her to remove it.

Kushida's breath hitched. Her mind raced, torn between the thrill of the situation and a flicker of unease. Ayanokoji's impassive gaze held hers, waiting.

With a resigned sigh, she slipped the garment off, exposing her curvaceous figure. Ayanokoji's eyes flickered down for a moment, taking in the sight before him, then returned to her face.

"What do you think of this exam, Kushida-san?" he asked, his voice devoid of inflection.

Kushida swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting the cool facade she usually wore. "Well," she stammered, "it seems like a way for the most popular student in the class to get a safety net with those protection points. And… the unpopular one gets expelled for not being well-liked."

Ayanokoji's lips curved into a cold, humorless smile. "A superficial understanding, wouldn't you agree?" He reached out, his fingers brushing against her waist, sending a jolt through her. "This exam is about influence, Kushida-san. The most popular student can use their sway to manipulate the class vote, essentially targeting a specific student for expulsion."

His voice dropped to a chilling whisper as he moved his hand to cup her breast. "In other words," he continued, his thumb grazing the soft flesh, "it's an exam where you have the power to get me expelled."

Kushida's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic counterpoint to Ayanokoji's calm touch. He could feel it, the rapid thumping beneath his palm, a stark contrast to his own controlled demeanor.

"You must have considered it," he said, his voice monotone.

A whimper escaped her lips as he squeezed gently. "I… I did," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "But I know you have people in Class C who would warn you if anyone started targeting you. So, I… I shelved the plan."

Ayanokoji remained silent for a moment, his hand still resting on her. "I see," he finally said, his voice betraying no emotion. He didn't remove his hand, but it no longer moved. The tension in the room hung heavy.

"But," he continued, his eyes locking onto hers, "that doesn't mean the option is completely off the table, does it, Kushida."

Kushida met his gaze, a mix of fear and defiance flickering in her eyes. "Perhaps not," she admitted, her voice barely above a breath. "But it would be a foolish move."

Ayanokoji's eyes showed a predatory glint as he spoke ahead. "Perhaps," he conceded. "But underestimating your ambition would be a mistake as well, wouldn't it?"

He released her, his touch leaving a phantom sensation on her skin. Kushida let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her like a wave.

"Now," Ayanokoji continued, his voice returning to its usual monotone, "tell me more about the details you've gathered from Class C. Who is the most likely student that will be eliminated from the class?"

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile, albeit a shaky one. "Alright," she began, her voice adopting a playful lilt despite the unease that still gnawed at her. "So, about Class C…"

Her voice trailed off as she noticed Ayanokoji's unwavering gaze. He was looking at her, not with his usual stoicism, but with a hint of something else – an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

Self-consciously, she pulled her arms across her bare chest, the rapid rise and fall of her breaths accentuated by her exposed skin. "There isn't a… a unified front yet," she stammered, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Ayanokoji's gaze remained fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke, his voice devoid of emotion. "Not yet?"

"No," Kushida confirmed, her voice barely a breath. "There's… discussion, of course. But no clear consensus on who to target with criticism votes."

A slow nod from Ayanokoji acknowledged her words. It made sense. Class C was still reeling from the initial shock of the exam, the internal politics yet to fully coalesce around a single target.

"What about Horikita?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. "What's her strategy?"

Kushida tilted her head, considering the question. "Horikita…" she began, then paused, a frown creasing her brow. "It's hard to say for sure. She's calculating that much is certain. But who she'll ultimately target…"

Ayanokoji's lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Someone weak, wouldn't you say? Someone who contributes little academically or physically?"

Kushida nodded slowly. "That's a safe bet. She'll want to eliminate a deadweight."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the back of her hand. The touch sent a jolt through her, a stark contrast to the coolness of her skin. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Then perhaps," he murmured, "it's time for me to secure some praise votes."

"So," Ayanokoji continued, his voice returning to its usual monotone, "for the praise votes, it would be most beneficial if…" He trailed off, a glint appearing in his emotionless eyes.

A slow smirk spread across Kushida's face. This was the moment she'd been waiting for, a chance to manipulate the situation. "If who?" she prompted, her voice laced with a hint of flirtatious curiosity.

"If I received the most praise votes," Ayanokoji finished, his voice devoid of any personal desire but laced with a calculated pragmatism. The protection point offered by the exam was a valuable tool, and he wouldn't let sentimentality get in the way of acquiring it.

Kushida's smile faltered slightly. She'd entertained the fleeting hope that he might ask her to use her influence to protect him, a subtle display of dependence that could potentially strengthen their bond. But Ayanokoji saw it purely as a practical advantage.

"That's a bit… unexpected, Ayanokoji-kun," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

"Unexpected?" He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement momentarily replacing his usual stoicism. "Why so?"

"Well," Kushida stammered, "you don't exactly strike me as someone who craves praise points."

Ayanokoji's expression remained unchanged. "It's not that I want the praise votes for some sort of popularity," he explained, his voice devoid of emotion. "But a protection point could prove very useful in the future."

The logic was undeniable. Kushida nodded, accepting his reasoning. "Okay, I understand," she conceded. "But I can't just tell everyone to vote for you without a reason."

"A reason?" He tilted his head slightly, a hint of curiosity breaking through his usual facade.

"Right," Kushida explained, regaining a measure of confidence. "People need justification. Why should they vote for you over someone else?"

Ayanokoji pondered for a moment. "During the Sports Festival," he began, his voice low, "I had demonstrated my speed when I ran that relay race. This could be a valuable asset in future exams that require physical prowess."

Kushida's eyes widened in understanding. She had witnessed his impressive agility firsthand during the relay race. "Physical ability, huh?" she mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "That's a good angle. I can definitely use that to convince some people."

A satisfied look flickered across Ayanokoji's face.

Ayanokoji didn't answer. He simply stood up, his gaze fixed on the window. "You may get dressed now, Kushida."

Kushida rose, a strange mixture of emotions swirling within her. Relief at escaping his close proximity, apprehension at his cryptic words, and a flicker of… curiosity.

With a quick movement, she reached for her discarded shirt and began pulling it back on, the coolness of the fabric a welcome sensation on her heated skin. As she straightened her clothes, she couldn't help but steal a glance at Ayanokoji. His expression remained unreadable, a mask that hid his true thoughts and motivations.