Chapter 3: Human Nature Put to the Test

IT WAS PAST SIX in the morning when lighthearted music began to reverberate throughout the room from speakers, clearly a signal for us to get out of bed. The room was still dark. I couldn't even see sunlight through the thin curtains.

"The hell? God, shut up."

Ishizaki's grumblings were the first words that we heard. Some students lay in bed even after hearing the music, but most of us slowly started to rouse, sitting up in bed, putting on our glasses, and so on.

"I guess we're getting started," Hashimoto muttered with a sigh. "For the time being, it'd be best if we all get up. If even one of us is

absent, we'll get hit with a deduction," said Keisei, putting on his jersey. As

long as we shared a room, collective responsibility was unavoidable. "Hey, Kouenji's not here."

"Good morning, gentlemen. Were you about to search for me?" said Kouenji, entering the room covered with a thin layer of sweat, wearing a pleasant smile. Apparently, he'd gotten up even before we did.

"Doesn't seem like you went to the bathroom or anything."

"Heh. It was such a nice morning, I went ahead and did my training." "What training? There's no telling what we're facing today. I can't

approve of you pointlessly exhausting your stamina," said Keisei. Not that

Kouenji was listening. On the contrary, he offered a gleeful rebuttal.

"Even after a full session of training, I have unimaginable reserves of stamina to spare. This is nothing, really. Besides, if you are so worried about stamina, shouldn't you have warned the group yesterday?"

"I didn't…think there'd be any kind of training happening."

"No, no. I'm afraid that's not going to cut it. I remember sharing a room with you back on the cruise ship. Surely you recall that I am the sort of

man who never skips out on training," spat Kouenji, as if it were outrageous Keisei would forget such a thing.

"Enough with the high-and-mighty act, Kouenji," said Ishizaki. He wasn't trying to defend Keisei—everyone was just fed up with Kouenji, who'd been behaving selfishly from square one. He was probably used to being a disruptive element.

We didn't have time for this now. The thing I most wanted to avoid was being late on the first day. Someone like Hirata would have gotten the group in order, but without a clear leader…

"Enough already. Promise us you'll cooperate."

"What do you mean, 'promise'? Have you sworn allegiance to this randomly selected group? I don't see it that way."

"Well I don't wanna cooperate, either," said Ishizaki, scanning the room and unintentionally settling his gaze on me.

"Because of Class A? Is that the reason why you hate this?" asked Hashimoto, coming down from the top bunk to stand next to me. Ishizaki's gaze settled on him.

"Tch. It ain't just 'cause of A. It's everyone," said Ishizaki. He turned back to Kouenji.

"You seem to be heading down the same delinquent path as Red-Hair- kun," Kouenji said. "It's been amusing to watch, but now that I've dealt with you directly, I've frankly had my fill. Shouldn't you hurry along to the meeting place? Leave before your incompetence is exposed."

The fact that the only person here who grasped what was happening was Kouenji just added fuel to the fire. He was choosing his words to agitate Ishizaki, and it was working.

"All right, bring it on! Yaaaah!" shouted Ishizaki.

Keisei checked the clock as Kouenji mentioned time and started panicking. "We don't even have five minutes until assembly. Leave the fighting for later."

"Ain't my problem. If we're late, it's his fault!"

It looked like no amount of water could douse the fires of Ishizaki's

anger now. On the contrary, the flames were just growing hotter. Keisei could see what was happening, but he didn't know how to manage their feelings in a way that would let him wrap this up.

"You've got a one-track mind. That's probably why you got demoted to Class D," Yahiko commented, only adding more fuel to the fire. The Class B students just watched, waiting for the situation to blow over.

"This is pitiful. I don't know whether we'll make it with these clowns." Hashimoto sighed. "Well, guess there's no helping it."

The way he said it made me think he was washing his hands of the matter, but then he punched the wood of his bed frame with his balled fist. Everyone except Kouenji reacted to the sound.

"Just calm down, you lot. It's fine to duke it out, but this is the worst possible time and place. Get it? If our furniture gets banged up, we'll be held responsible. And if someone's face gets bruised, we'll be in trouble for it.

Right?"

Having cut through the silence with a sound other than his voice, Hashimoto said what needed to be said. Ishizaki, who had been hollering about how our problems didn't concern him, had to understand now that he was putting even himself in jeopardy.

"Hey, Four Eyes-kun. What's your name again?" "Yukimura."

"That's right. It's just like Yukimura-kun said. There's no time. So

how about you bury that anger deep, deep down, and we go to assembly? If you're still mad after breakfast, you can decide if you want to beat each other up. That's what being a group is about, right?"

"You should be happy, Kouenji. You get to live a little longer." "Oh, my, yes. I happen to be a pacifist," said Kouenji.

Just what you'd expect from Class A, huh? I didn't know exactly where Hashimoto fit in the class hierarchy, but he'd expertly solved this problem for us. The fire was still burning, but it was contained for now. We left the room, still cradling a bomb with a lit fuse.

The boys from all three grade levels gathered in one classroom.

Approximately forty people, give or take. You could almost say it was like

we made one class. The first-year students all extended brief morning greetings to the second- and third-years. Not too long afterward, the teacher entered the room.

"I'm Onodera, the instructor in charge of third-year Class B. We're going to take roll call now, and then you will go outside and clean your designated areas. After that, you will clean the school building. These cleaning duties will be part of your morning routine for the next week. In the event that it rains, you will be exempt from working outside but not let off work; you'll just spend twice as much time cleaning indoors instead. As for your lessons—they won't just be taught by school instructors. There will be individuals coming in to cover a variety of different topics. Please give them a proper welcome and behave yourselves."

With that brief explanation, our group went off to clean.

3.1

THE SCENT OF SOFT RUSH from the tatami mats tickled my nostrils. The space before me made me feel strangely nostalgic. The teacher had escorted us to a spacious dojo, where it seemed we'd be working alongside some other groups.

"Starting today, you will practice zazen here in the mornings and evenings."

"Zazen? I myself have never before engaged in such an activity," said the Professor from the other side of the dojo.

The man in charge, hearing this comment, approached the Professor. "Wh-whatever do you want with one such as I?" asked the Professor,

looking up at the man. He looked unnerved by the silent, almost intimidating

aura the man radiated.

"The way you speak. Is that something you were born with? Or is it a hometown dialect?" asked the man.

"Mayhap I would say that is not the case…"

"You're not a time traveler from the Muromachi Period or the Edo Period, are you?" asked the man.

"Huh? No, of course, I myself have never engaged in the luxury of time travel…"

"I see. I don't quite understand what you think you're achieving by talking like that, but here's some advice. Fix that ridiculous speech pattern and grow up."

"Wh-what?"

"What would someone think of you if you spoke that way to them upon your first meeting? Do you need me to elaborate?"

I didn't know why the Professor chose to speak that way, but even I could tell it was a deliberate affectation. He certainly wouldn't be permitted to speak that way in the real world, or at the very least, in a formal setting.

There were no rules against it, of course, but it went against socially accepted codes of morals and manners. You could dig in your heels and defend it as a personal quirk, but very, very few people could successfully get away with that.

"All right, listen up, and listen well. There are people out there who sling their words and actions around without consideration for others in an attempt to stand out. To show that they're special. This is true not only for the young, but also for the elderly too," our instructor said sternly. "You don't need to change your personality to be a part of society. You're free to express your individuality, of course, but you must take other people's feelings into consideration as you venture out into the world. These lessons will help you cultivate that mentality, using techniques such as zazen. By bringing your words and movements to a halt, you will be unified with the people around you, merging with the group. Consider others, and finally, think. What kind of person am I? What can I do?"

He deliberately directed his gaze over toward the Professor, as if to say, 'Get it now?'

"I-I have felt fe—ack, gotta be careful."

He might not be able to get rid of his speech pattern right away, but practicing zazen might teach the Professor to look inward—for instance, at why he'd slipped just then.

The groups were seated individually and then given a brief explanation. This room was called the zazen dojo. While in here, we were to ball either our right or left hand into a fist and wrap the other hand around it. We had to keep it that way whether walking or standing. Also, we needed to keep it at the height of our solar plexus. That was a stance known as shashu. Depending on which sect you were in, there were different rules about how to form your hands.

We received an explanation on one more thing regarding zazen.

Simply, it was nothing more than one form of meditation. Practicing zazen wasn't about emptying your head but about forming an image. There was also something known as Ten Bulls, a series of poems and accompanying pictures that illustrated the path toward enlightenment.

I was new to this zazen stuff, myself.

"After you've crossed your legs, place your feet on your thighs.

Practice a lot, because sitting in the lotus position will have an effect on your exam results."

"Ow. Wait, for real? I can't even get one leg up."

"If you are unable to do it at the start, you may instead use half-lotus position, with just one leg crossed."

The man in charge demonstrated the pose. I was able to cross my legs without any problem, so I decided to go with the lotus position. Surprisingly, it seemed a lot of students couldn't do it…though Kouenji, who was starting to intrigue me, had his legs crossed effortlessly. He wore a faint smile, looking as though he'd already entered a state of zen.

Since his posture needed no correction, the man in charge moved past him without complaint.

"He can really do it, huh," said Tokitou in a hushed voice. He was also able to pull off the lotus position.

"He doesn't appear to dislike this kind of thing. That's a relief." "Yeah."

Our instructor was a scary-looking guy, but this was Kouenji, after all.

He might have simply refused to do the lesson.

Now that all of the students had grasped the general idea, zazen time began. However, since we'd spent quite a bit of time having things explained to us, our first session was limited to just five minutes.

3.2

AFTER MORNING CLEANING and zazen, it was around seven o'clock— breakfast time. But we were led outside instead of into the large cafeteria we'd used yesterday evening. There, we found a spacious eating area prepared for us. Several groups had already arrived.

"The school will provide a meal for you today, but starting tomorrow, provided that the weather is clear, you will be making breakfast with your group. You must discuss how you wish to divide the work with your whole group."

"For real? I ain't ever cooked a meal before," grumbled Ishizaki.

But if that was the rule, then there was no avoiding it. Preparations for breakfast were underway while we received instructions on how to prepare food from tomorrow onward. It looked as though the breakfast menu had already been set, and handouts on how to prepare the items were being distributed. At least we'd know what to cook.

"Ugh, is this all there is?"

The meal was simple. A Japanese breakfast, consisting of soup, rice, and three other dishes. For students with hearty appetites, this wasn't going to be enough. While it seemed we could choose to swap in other dishes, we'd need to prepare everything ourselves.

"Thank goodness for that island test. Compared to that, this is luxury," said Keisei, sounding somehow relieved, as he began eating.

"If we're going to do this fairly, let's have each grade level take turns at cooking," said a third-year boy who appeared to be a representative, addressing his mealtime rotation proposal to Nagumo.

"Yeah. I've got no objections. I'd like to start with the first-years." "How about it, first-years? Any objections?"

There was no way anyone could object. Assuming we had clear

weather for the remainder of our time, we'd be making breakfast six times. The order in which we'd be cooking would be different, but that wasn't

reason enough to complain. I wouldn't say it was unquestionably the kind of thing underclassmen should knuckle under and accept, but I was fine with it.

"We accept," said Keisei.

"Since we'll be cooking breakfast, what time should we wake up tomorrow?"

"To make sure we have enough time, let's wake two hours early," proposed Keisei.

Ishizaki vigorously rejected the idea. Keisei's proposal meant he'd have to be up and ready to go by 4:00 a.m.

"Still, we don't have any choice. If we can't prepare breakfast, it'll be awful."

"Then you guys do it. I'll be sleeping."

Ishizaki had never made such statements while under Ryuuen. But in this group, he'd already risen to the top of the hierarchy. It was interesting how his behavior had changed when his status did. Being celebrated as one of the distinguished few who had overthrown Ryuuen probably had something to do with it.

I couldn't really blame him for being standoffish with me, given I knew what had really happened. Also, being placed in the same group as me must have shaken him. His actions and words weren't just hurting other people; they were hurting him too.

Ishizaki and Albert weren't cut out to be leaders or strategists. They were more suited to be third in command., the ones corralling the rest of the students. Ryuuen should have made sure they kept those roles—though, to be honest, Keisei and Yahiko were similar. They weren't as foolhardy as Ishizaki, but they weren't qualified to be leaders, either.

I would've thought Class B would take a more active role, but they'd been unusually quiet so far. Maybe they weren't as proactive as I thought, with the exception of certain individuals like Kanzaki and Shibata.

That made Hashimoto the person most qualified to hold the group together. His prestigious Class A position, together with his ability to assess situations clearly and communicate effectively, were all key. However, he didn't seem willing to lead.

3.3

AFTER OUR PLAIN—no, our healthy morning meal— the real lessons began. Our large group gathered in a classroom that was a bit more spacious than those in the Advanced Nurturing High School. I wondered if it was supposed to resemble a college classroom.

There was no assigned seating, so it was inevitable that students from the same grade level would cluster in small groups. You could sit in the corner by yourself, but that might gain you unwanted attention from other grade levels. You might even get a warning. Since the second- and third-year small groups hadn't arrived yet, we first-years had our pick of seats.

"Would it be better to sit up front?"

"No, we should probably wait before taking out seats. Shouldn't the seniors take their seats first, and then we grab whatever's available?"

Keisei didn't want to run the risk of getting chewed out.

"Don't go being selfish again, Kouenji. You might end up sitting off by yourself."

"If we're free to choose our seats, I believe I shall sit wherever I please."

Despite saying that, Kouenji showed no sign of sitting down. So he wasn't entirely an agent of chaos after all. He did actually listen quietly during our normal lessons too. The man just lived by his own rules.

"Seems like you first-years are struggling a bit," said a second-year student. "Need any help?"

"We're okay," replied Keisei, lightly bowing in response. "Ugh. Why do I have to be the representative?" he muttered.

After all, communicating with the second- and third-year students was the representative's responsibility. Keisei seemed to be under a large amount of stress. If I left him hanging like this, it would only be a matter of time before he exploded.

3.4

IN THE AFTERNOON, we had PE—or rather basic physical fitness conditioning. We were told the main focus would be marathon training, and that a long-distance relay race was scheduled for the last day, undoubtedly part of the final exam. We'd practice outside for a few days, and then later on the track.

"Huff huff," panted Keisei.

The many tasks we'd already completed since morning had depleted our stamina, and he was struggling. I could have helped him with a knowledge-oriented problem, but when it came to physical fitness, there was nothing I could do but watch.

Surprisingly, Ishizaki and Albert had more stamina than the average student. They made it through practice easily, perhaps because, delinquents though they were, they didn't smoke.

"All I've done since morning is analyze things."

For whatever reason, I was growing tired of this. Putting aside the question of whether I intended to play an active role, I'd come to the realization that I wanted to improve our group's performance enough to keep us safe from expulsion. If we came in last place and scored beneath the minimum threshold set by the school, then Keisei would be expelled.

The likelihood of him taking me down with him was almost infinitesimally low but not zero. If we lost, he might resent me for not offering a helping hand despite seeing him struggle. Should I provide the bare minimum of assistance necessary to save him? Or should I work to put the group on the right track? Maybe I should just observe everything and hope that the problem resolved itself? No—I quickly eliminated that last option.

Kouenji's presence would be a cause for concern too. I should probably make a move sooner rather than later.

I slowed down in order to run alongside Kouenji, who was jogging nonchalantly. Even as I approached, he didn't even glance at me. He wouldn't leave his own private world unless I forced him to.

"Hey, Kouenji. Can't you go a little easier on them all?" "By them, you are referring to the group, Ayanokouji Boy?"

"Yeah. They're confused. Not everyone is as incredible as you."

"Ha ha ha, I certainly am one of a kind. However, wouldn't it be the absolute height of stupidity to hold myself back in order to keep pace with common riffraff?"

"Well…I don't know if that's right. But…" "What are you trying to say?"

"It would be nice if the group could score reasonably well. I'd like to avoid expulsion."

"If that's what you want, then you must work hard to make it happen, hmm?"

"I'm saying this to you because I intend to work hard."

Kouenji didn't respond, leaving our pounding feet as the only sound we heard. He'd gone right back into his own little world. Guess talking to him was a wasted effort after all.

Half-assed threats or pleas were meaningless when it came to Kouenji.

Reflecting on everything that had happened so far told me that much. It didn't matter if the class joined forces to plead with him or if the teachers put their weight behind us—if he didn't want to do something, that was that. He was an obstinate, utterly self-involved person.

3.5

PERHAPS BECAUSE it was our first day of classes, or because our marathon training had been so demanding, the rest of the lessons consisted solely of explanations for what to expect this week. It was, however, made clear to us that the primary goal of these lessons was to teach us socialization skills.

Of course, the first-years had no idea what that meant. The second- years, on the other hand, seemed to take it calmly in stride. The experience gap between us was impossible to ignore.

"Ugh."

Our final lesson for the afternoon, zazen, had ended. Keisei collapsed, unable to move.

"Are you okay?"

"I'd like to say I am, but my legs feel all numb. Please…give me a minute."

Looked like the lesson had been unexpectedly hard on Keisei. He remained stiff and motionless for about two minutes, waiting until the numbness in his legs subsided. Ishizaki hadn't done so well with zazen either. He bent forward in agony.

"Damn. Okay, food and bath. Yeah, bath. Give me a hand, Albert." Albert approached Ishizaki, grabbed his arm, and pulled him up. "Gah! More gently! Let go!"

Thud! Ishizaki collapsed. "Gaaah!"

I couldn't help but be amused by watching that interaction play out.

The rest of our group, however, just found Ishizaki and those like him a pain in the neck. Keisei moved to leave, ignoring them, but I purposefully held my ground.

"They're an amusing duo, huh?" I asked, deliberately drawing Keisei's

attention.

"Kiyotaka, just leave them alone. They're goofing around. Don't look at them too much or you'll draw their attention." Keisei moved in front of me, blocking my view. "He might not be as bad as Sudou, but Ishizaki's still the type to punch first and ask questions later. This might end up being like Ryuuen all over again."

"Still, we're in the same group. I'm sure they won't mind a certain amount of contact, right?"

I pointed. Ishizaki noticed us and glared. Keisei flinched, but Ishizaki just left the dojo, dragging Albert with him.

"What?" I asked.

"You're surprisingly bold, Kiyotaka."

That was because I knew what was really going on with Ishizaki and his posse. I wanted to find a way to indirectly tell Keisei not to worry too much about it. As long as he was in charge of our group, he had to maintain a certain degree of control over the students from other classes.

"Keisei, we need to peel another layer off this school." "A layer? What do you mean?"

"We might need to befriend Ishizaki and Albert to at least some degree."

"That's ridiculous. We're in the same group, but we're still enemies. I can't befriend them."

Like Keisei, I'd also believed there was no way rival classes could ever get along when I first enrolled here. In fact, the school encouraged us to compete with each other. Lately, however, I'd begun to imagine another way forward.

"It seems Student Council President Nagumo has been able to bring people together, irrespective of class," I said.

"That's…because he's charismatic," said Keisei. "Or he's just special. I don't have that kind of talent… In fact, that's not something anyone outside of Class A could even do, right? We don't know what Nagumo-senpai's planning, or if his methods will work all the way to graduation. But no matter

how much he unites the second-years, the ones who graduate from Class A will have the last laugh. The rest will be left in tears." With that, Keisei left the dojo.

3.6

AFTER DINNER, I decided to head back to the room before the others.

There were a few people gathered in the hallway, both guys and girls, making me think something was wrong.

"Sorry, sorry. Are you okay?" "Yes. No need for concern."

Yamauchi, a member of my class, reached his hand out apologetically.

It looked like he'd knocked over Sakayanagi Arisu from first-year Class A. She didn't take Yamauchi's hand but instead tried to get up herself.

She couldn't do it unaided, though, so she grabbed her cane, which lay on the ground. Then, leaning against the wall, she slowly got back up. It didn't take her long, but with everyone staring at her, it probably felt like an interminably long time to Sakayanagi.

Yamauchi awkwardly retracted his hand. "So, uh. Guess I'll be going?"

"Yes. Don't mind me."

Sakayanagi smiled lightly and looked away from Yamauchi. Everyone began to disperse, looking relieved the issue hadn't escalated.

"Sakayanagi-chan sure is cute, but she's also clumsy," muttered Yamauchi. Apparently, it hadn't even occurred to him she might've fallen because he bumped into her.

Somehow, Sakayanagi's gaze had found mine. "Are you okay?" I asked her as I approached.

"Thank you ever so much for your concern. However, it's nothing major."

"I'll talk with Yamauchi later."

"Well, he didn't do it on purpose. I just fell, that's all," said Sakayanagi with a chuckle. But her eyes weren't laughing. "Well, then. Please excuse me."

Kamuro was usually by her side, but wasn't here. She'd probably been placed in a different group. I had no way of knowing how things were going with the girls, and I didn't care, either. However, as Sakayanagi started to leave, she stopped and glanced back at me. Did she feel me staring?

"I remembered something I wanted to discuss with you, Ayanokouji-

kun."

She tapped her cane once, a thin smile on her lips.

"Class B is quite unified. Ichinose Honami-san has earned the trust of

her comrades by giving it her all. However, what if they're trusting her too much?"

"That has nothing to do with me," I replied.

But Sakayanagi continued, not caring what I said.

"There was a rumor going around about her. She's said to possess a tremendous number of points, despite her lack of significant achievements— enough points to even warrant an investigation by the school, I hear. It shouldn't be possible for a single student to earn so many points alone. She's likely the treasurer for Class B. Don't you think?"

"Who knows? Only Ichinose or her classmates could answer that question. Why tell me this?"

"I'm saying, is it wise to entrust her with all of those private points?

For example, if she suddenly needed a large number of points to protect herself after making some mistake, or to save a classmate, no one would blame her for it. Perhaps she's acting as treasurer for that purpose."

"Probably, yeah."

"However, if she squandered a large sum of points purely to serve her own goals, the school might investigate on the basis of fraud."

In any case, this wasn't about me. This applied to no one else but Ichinose and the students of B Class. If Ichinose really was acting as their treasurer, then the students who had deposited their points with her would be the ones who had the right to complain about it.

"I can't imagine Ichinose using private points for selfish reasons, though," I said.

"I suppose that's true. At the very least, no one doubts her. Yet." In other words, she was implying that might change. "I do so look forward to finishing this special exam and going back to school."

Looking satisfied, Sakayanagi turned and walked away without looking back.

3.7

THERE WAS ABOUT one hour left until ten o'clock, which was lights- out time. None of us really had anything to talk about, so we sat around in our shared room in silence.

Breaking the ice was proving to be surprisingly difficult. Even if you made an effort to initiate conversation with someone from another class, it could easily feel forced. Ideally, someone would bring up a topic we could all chime in on, but seemed like it might be too much to hope for.

Trying to force conversation would be off-putting. If only someone would strike up a conversation.

A knock came at the door. Apparently we had a visitor. "Who could that be?"

Everyone looked perplexed.

"Maybe it's a teacher," said Ishizaki disinterestedly.

That was certainly a possibility. Keisei got up, went to the door, and asked who it was. The answer was surprising.

"Are you still awake?"

"Student Council President Nagumo! Is something wrong?" asked Keisei.

"I came to check on you since we're in the same group. Can I come in?" asked Nagumo.

There probably wasn't a single first-year student brave enough to refuse him. Keisei immediately complied. Apparently, Nagumo hadn't come alone. Vice President Kiriyama and two other third-year students accompanied him: Class B students named Tsunoda and Ishikura.

Once inside, Nagumo scanned the room.

"It appears all the rooms are identical, senpai," he said to Ishikura with a grin.

"It looks like it. Now, how exactly do you plan to deepen our bonds of

fellowship by bringing us to the first-years' room?" asked Ishikura.

The question was directed at Nagumo, but Keisei, not understanding what he meant, spoke up. "Bonds of fellowship?" he asked.

"I already told you, didn't I? I came to check on you, since we're in the same group. We don't have TV or computers or smartphones. There's nothing remotely resembling entertainment. But it's not like we have nothing to play with," said Nagumo, pulling a small box from his jersey pocket.

"Cards?"

"You're probably thinking, 'Cards, in this day and age?' Well, cards are a staple game at camps like this."

Nagumo sat down in a random spot, peeled the plastic tape from the sealed box, and opened it.

"Take a seat, senpai. Sorry first-years, but there isn't much space. You stay in your beds," said Nagumo as some of the first-years began to get up.

"I'm not playing," said Tsunoda. He turned his back to Nagumo. "Come on, don't say that. Let's play. It might help us chat a bit more

freely," said Nagumo.

Tsunoda stopped in his tracks, seemingly giving up, and took a seat.

Ishikura sat beside him.

"We should bet something to make the game more exciting. Any ideas?"

The first-year students, nervous in the presence of upperclassmen, said nothing. They didn't know how to address the student council president, and Nagumo, of course, had anticipated they would shrink back that way.

"We decided on the order in which people will making breakfast, right?" he said. "Let's bet on that. If, for example, you lose constantly, you'll be on meal duty until the end of camp. On the other hand, if you never lose, then you never have to cook breakfast."

"Hey, Nagumo. Shouldn't we discuss that with the entire group?" said Ishikura.

"It's only breakfast duty. Come on, give me that much. Please."

He was the acting student council president for our school, and yet he

was so completely casual in how he talked, even to seniors. The other third- years seemed unable to respond. They probably knew of the tension between Nagumo and Horikita Manabu and didn't want to get involved.

"Fine. Let's decide by playing cards."

"We're okay with this?" Keisei asked the other first-year, sounding slightly apprehensive. Ishizaki, Hashimoto, and the others nodded, as did I. The others eventually nodded too—except Kouenji.

"Kouenji, you object to this?"

Nagumo should've just ignored him. Their little exchange in the gymnasium this afternoon probably made him want to poke the bear.

"I neither approve nor object. The majority has already spoken." "I don't care about the majority. I want to know what you think."

"Then allow me to answer, student council president. I haven't the slightest interest in this exchange. I don't care enough to either approve or object. Does that satisfy you?"

Kouenji's comments seemed designed to cause more problems.

However, Nagumo let loose an unexpectedly amiable laugh.

"Why don't you join the student council, Kouenji? I'd love to have someone as interesting as you aboard. I've heard you're fairly accomplished in both academics and athletics too."

Everyone in the room, including the third-years, was shocked. Kouenji was the only one who didn't react.

"Well, that's quite unfortunate. I have no interest in the student council."

"I suppose you wouldn't. Well, you're welcome any time. If you do happen to develop an interest, call me. Now then, how about we get this card game started?" Nagumo looked away from Kouenji.

"What game exactly are we playing?"

"How about something simple. Old Maid? The person holding the joker in the end loses. Two players from each grade will participate in six games total."

I wasn't very familiar with cards, but even I knew about Old Maid.

"The participating students are free to switch out. Just don't switch in the middle of a round," said Nagumo, shuffling the deck.

Once he was done, he handed the cards to the third-years so they could shuffle as well. To truly ensure that no one could tamper with the cards at all, the deck was then handed over to the first-years to shuffle. Keisei shuffled while he looked at us, seeking one other student to participate. Since there were no volunteers, Hashimoto raised his hand with a look of resignation.

3.8

OUR GAME OF Old Maid with first-, second-, and third-years had begun. Each grade level was scheduled to take two turns at rising early to make breakfast. So if you played six games of Old Maid with five wins and one loss, you'd still be fine. Four wins and two losses would be okay too.

"Playing silently isn't fun at all. Let's chat," proposed Nagumo. He received the deck back from Keisei and dealt the cards.

"I'll deal the first round. From the second round onward, the loser has to shuffle and deal."

The players nodded in agreement. Nagumo hadn't looked at me once since entering the room. Even though we'd already met during winter vacation, I apparently didn't exist to him.

"Oh, first-years who aren't playing…just relax. Pretend we're not here. Being nervous around your seniors all the time will affect your performance this week."

Nagumo could say that, but we couldn't be as relaxed as we had been a little while ago. Except Kouenji, who ignored them completely and went to sleep.

I decided to quietly observe the game to the end.

"Even though it's just a game, we can't lose to the first-years, senpai." "Unfortunately, I don't have the best luck. If you expect too much of

me, you'll be disappointed."

"It'll be fine. I think my senpai are all pretty strong. You won't lose the first or second game."

Despite this being a game where chance dictated much of the outcome, Nagumo brimmed with confidence. They were already approaching the game's halfway point.

"Done."

Ishikura successfully got rid of all of his cards. Vice President

Kiriyama was next, and Nagumo was third. The second-years clinched victory quickly, adding pressure to the first-years.

"Done."

Hashimoto put down two cards with matching numbers, bowing to the third-years as he did so. The remaining players were Keisei and Tsunoda, a third-year. For such a tense game, the players seemed rather calm. Keisei had two cards left and Tsunoda one. That meant Keisei was holding the joker. If the third-year picked the joker, Keisei would be the winner. But after some deliberation, Tsunoda picked the winning card.

"That settles it." "I lost."

The first round ended with Keisei's defeat. The first-years had to make

breakfast at least once.

"Let's keep calm. Losing once or twice isn't a big deal," said Hashimoto. Keisei nodded but seemed apologetic. He was probably worried he'd lose another round.

"Hey, I already told you, didn't I? The loser collects the cards and deals them," Nagumo said.

"S-sorry," said Keisei, collecting the cards in a panic.

The second round soon began. From where I was seated, I could see one of the third-years' cards. He had the joker. He held it until about halfway through the round but eventually passed to another student.

The final two players were Kiriyama and Keisei. Keisei couldn't help but look incredibly nervous at being in the one-on-one showdown for the second time in a row. On top of that, judging from the number of cards remaining, I knew that Keisei was holding the joker.

Kiriyama slowly, hesitantly picked a card. Keisei struggled to keep his poker face, but he hung his head in defeat. Within the span of a few minutes, the first-year students had suffered two consecutive defeats. Yahiko, who had been watching the situation unfold, signaled to Keisei that it was time to switch.

"Probably for the best," said Nagumo. Hearing that, Keisei obediently tagged out and let Yahiko in.

"I'm not good at games like this. Sorry, we're counting on you," Keisei said, settling down to watch the first-years battle.

Of course, Yahiko was probably nervous to face off against seniors.

However, perhaps because he was used to treating Katsuragi with the deference due an older student, he seemed relatively calm. Still, composure might not have helped much with Old Maid. I didn't know how much skill was involved, but you probably needed at least some luck not to draw the joker.

"I think it's time to let the first-years have one," said Nagumo, perhaps feeling slightly bad that we'd lost multiple times in a row. "By the way, Ishikura-senpai. How's the club been lately?"

"I thought you weren't interested in basketball."

"No, I am. I mean, I'm not as interested as I am in soccer."

"We had some pretty athletic first-years join, so we might expect some good things next year. We didn't really achieve much this year, pathetic as it is to admit that, as the captain."

Several first-years had joined, but he was probably referring to Sudou, whose skill had even caught the attention of even a retired third-year.

"I'm looking forward to it."

"You seem like you're devoting all your time to the student council.

Don't you have any lingering attachment to soccer?"

"I wasn't planning to go pro or anything. Besides, I can continue playing soccer wherever. Being student council president here was really appealing."

"It's good that you're putting in effort as president, but I don't like you picking fights with Horikita."

"I don't mean to pick a fight. I simply want my senpai to acknowledge me, especially when I've admired him for a long time."

Ishikura shot Nagumo a glance but then looked away.

"I'm first this time," said Ishikura, laying his cards down flat.

"I'm in, too," said Yahiko right afterward. He happily placed his final two cards down. For the first-years to win, Hashimoto had to pull through.

The number of cards in his hand was decreasing, but all that mattered was who held the joker.

"All right."

After another second-year student took third place, Hashimoto also got rid of his cards.

"Oh, ho, looks like the firs-years survived this time. Congrats." "Thank you very much, Nagumo-senpai."

The final players were Nagumo and Tsunoda. However, Nagumo had

the advantage, with a 50 percent chance of victory.

"Here goes," said Nagumo, claiming the card on the right. However, he'd grabbed the joker. "Too bad."

Nagumo held out the two cards in his hand. Tsunoda picked the card on the right, just as Nagumo had done.

"That settles it."

In the end, Nagumo had the joker, and the second-years suffered a defeat.

"Looks like I got beat. All right, should we start the fourth round?" Nagumo began dealing the cards, not looking frustrated in the least. "You first-years finally won a round, so how about you lose again this time? I mean, we are your seniors. I'd like you to take over our duties."

"If I remember right, Sudou is from Class D. Who here are Class D students?" asked Ishikura, looking around.

"Ah, we're Sudou's classmates," said Keisei, looking at me. "Oh, and we were just promoted to Class C," he added.

I didn't expect them to care much about what was going on in the other grade levels, but when Keisei said that, Ishikura looked impressed.

"Promoted from D to C, huh? That's amazing."

"Seems like the former Class D ran out of class points right after they started at this school, though."

"Yet they still managed to get promoted. What's the gap between you and Class B like?"

As someone asked that question, though, Ishikura stopped Keisei before he could answer. "Forget it. This group comprises all classes; I shouldn't be adding fuel to a fire," he said.

It certainly wasn't the best topic—and wouldn't be a fun conversation for Ishizaki, the rest of Class D, or Class B. In the end, the first-years barely spoke, while Nagumo and the third-years kept the conversation going.

It was the fourth round. After four out of the six players finished up, Nagumo called for the round to end.

"Both the remaining players are first-years. There's no need to finish, right?" he said.

No matter who won, it was still our loss. Yahiko and Hashimoto put their remaining cards back in the deck. We managed to win against the second-years just once and lost three times.

We'd only had to cook breakfast twice, but now thanks to this round of Old Maid, the number had risen. The more we lost, the worse our burden became.

"Maybe I should switch out," said Hashimoto. No one seemed willing to replace him, though, with the feeling of defeat hanging heavy in the air.

"It doesn't matter who steps in. Anyone is fine. You," said Nagumo.

He beckoned me over. I wanted to decline, of course, but obviously couldn't. Regardless of whether he'd called on me intentionally or randomly, I had to accept.

"Sorry, Ayanokouji. It's up to you." "Okay."

Well, three first-years had already played. It wasn't so strange that I'd been picked too. Besides, this was just for fun. Win or lose, it was just a normal game.

As we switched places, Yahiko asked me to deal the cards. I shuffled the deck and started to deal awkwardly.

"All right, this is the fifth game. I think it's about time the third-years go down. Come on, first-year," said Nagumo, trying to light a fire under our asses.

I fanned out my cards and assessed my hand. I had several cards with the same number and the joker. Unless I handed that card off to a second- or third-year, we had no chance of winning. I wasn't very familiar with playing cards, but I was curious about one thing.

In a sense, drawing the joker at the very onset might be a good thing.

As I finished assessing my hand, the game began, and people took their turns in order. It seemed no one was going to draw the joker from me.

Occasionally, one of the seniors would put their fingers on the card but then immediately pulled their hand back.

However, during the fifth round, someone finally took the joker from me. The senior who took it looked at me for an instant but then immediately regained his composure and resumed the game. This time, Yahiko was the first to finish, and then I finished second. The first-years were done.

"The first-years came out on top this time, huh? Maybe the tides have turned."

The game came down to a one-on-one between the remaining third- years. Exactly what Nagumo had hoped for, probably.

Only one game left. As a first-year, I wanted to avoid losing again. "This next game's the last one."

"I'll deal," said Ishikura. As he did, Kouenji spoke up. "Student Council President Nagumo."

"What is it, Kouenji? Do you finally feel like participating?"

"I'm feeling a tad bit curious, I suppose. How do you foresee this final game will end?"

Nagumo ignored Kouenji's pompous way of speaking, focusing only on the question.

"How do I foresee?" said Nagumo. Nagumo glanced over the participants.

"Even though this is just a game, the seniors are experienced. It's unlikely the first-years are going to win," he said.

Kouenji closed his eyes and smiled, as though satisfied.

Most probably didn't understand the intention behind Kouenji's question. Only the senior students had a grasp on the situation. I agonized over what I should do. If I relied on luck alone, I was almost guaranteed to lose. However, if I attempted to influence the results, I might end up drawing Nagumo's attention.

I checked my cards. One of the cards in my hand was the dreaded joker. I had to get rid of it if I wanted to avoid defeat.

"I'd like to leave the first-years with three losses. But I'm also okay with four," said Nagumo. I couldn't imagine that statement was random.

The final round started, turns being taken in clockwise order. Every player discarded two cards. In a minute or two, the outcome would be decided.

3.9

"SORRY, FIRST-YEARS, but I finished first."

That was Tsunoda. Kiriyama was the next player to finish. That left us first-year students, Nagumo, and Ishikura. The joker was still in my hand. I'd given up on winning, so I let the game continue. Yahiko finished next. He sighed in relief, hand to his chest.

Right after that, Ishikura finished. The match became a showdown between Nagumo and me.

"You don't seem to be having fun, Ayanokouji."

"That's not true. I just have a hard time expressing myself."

"Really? You've looked kind of pale ever since we started. Have you had the joker all this time?"

Nagumo's remarks weren't strange at all. Since he didn't have the Joker and I was the only player left, he obviously knew what that meant.

"You might be right about that," I replied, trying to be evasive.

Engaging him directly might be bad.

I knew what Nagumo wanted from me, after all. He wanted me to talk back to him like Kouenji had.

I silently offered him the two cards in my hand. One was the joker, the other the exact card Nagumo needed in order to win. In all likelihood, Nagumo would draw the winning card. But I didn't understand the look on his face.

Nagumo smiled as he put out his hand.

And then…

"You must be glad, Ayanokouji. Looks like you escaped." Nagumo had drawn the joker.

"Talk about a surprise. I was sure you'd draw the winning card," said Ishikura to Nagumo.

"In the end, card games come down to luck. When you lose, you lose." Nagumo shuffled the two cards in his hand, and offered them to me. "All right, take your pick."

From an outsider's perspective, I had a fifty-fifty chance, but that wasn't really the case here. Even though he'd taken the cards from a sealed box, Nagumo had been the first to deal. That was probably when he'd marked the joker. Though almost invisible, there was a minute notch on the card.

I'd arrived at this conclusion by looking at the spread of wins. In the five games so far, Nagumo had predicted the outcomes would be ahead of time, even though, with inexperienced first-years in play, there should have been no way of knowing how a game would go. But Nagumo was evasive, only saying which team had a high probability of winning and which did not.

The senior students who'd realized the trick…no, who'd been told about it…had an overwhelming advantage. Disgusting. From where I was sitting, the card on the right was marked, meaning it was the joker. There was no mistaking it.

If I picked the other card, though, would what happen? The answer was simple. Nothing. I'd have just won by a fifty-fifty chance.

"I can't tell which is which no matter how hard I try, so I'm just going to pick randomly. Here goes," I said, reaching out. But Nagumo pulled his cards back.

"Give it some thought before you pick."

"I don't know that thinking it over will do anything." "Still, try," he insisted.

"I understand. I'll give it some thought," I said, looking at the cards.

Of course, I wasn't really thinking. After about two seconds, I grabbed for a card.

"I like the one on the right. I'll take that one," I said.

As fine a reason as any. Nagumo didn't stop me that time, and I drew the winning card.

"Sorry," I said, showing that I'd won. "You lost. Huh, Nagumo?"

"Guess so. Well, we were already scheduled to cook breakfast twice anyway, so I don't really mind." He gathered up the cards that were scattered about. "That was fun, wasn't it? I think you and I might get along just fine, Ishikura-senpai."

"I wonder," replied Ishikura, brushing aside Nagumo's seemingly good-natured words and abruptly leaving the room.

"It's fine if we start with the first-years, right? Take care of breakfast tomorrow."

"Y-yes. Thank you very much," said Keisei.

The seniors cleaned up the cards, then got up and left.

"Y'know, we didn't really interact with 'em at all," muttered Ishizaki. I understood what he meant.

Ultimately, the game had done nothing but increase the first-years' ever so slight responsibilities.