Since the end of the Deserted Island Special Test.
The storm of exhaustion and anxiety had finally subsided, replaced by sunlight streaming through the wide windows of the luxurious cruise ship. The air smelled faintly of salt and perfume — a mix of the ocean's calm and the school's indulgence.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Class D could breathe.
"Man, this ship's paradise," Ike said, sprawled out on a deck chair with a drink in hand. "I don't ever wanna go back to the mainland."
"Don't jinx it," Yamauchi groaned beside him. "Knowing this school, they'll probably throw another test at us before we dock."
Hirata chuckled, ever the peacemaker. "Relax, you two. Let's enjoy it while we can."
The boys of Class D had claimed a corner of the open-air pool area, lounging under umbrellas. The girls were nearby — Karuizawa and her group dipping their feet into the water, chatting about skincare and the "horror" of island life without shampoo.
Meanwhile, Ayanokōji sat under the shade, reading as usual.
Suzune was at a nearby table, notebook in hand, still reviewing the island's results despite her fever having only recently faded.
And me?
I was somewhere between the two — half relaxing, half restless.
Even surrounded by laughter and sunlight, I couldn't quite turn off the part of me that stayed alert, watching. That habit had been drilled into me long before this school.
Still, the peaceful rhythm of the ocean was a welcome change from the constant tension of the island.
Airi and Hasebe approached, holding ice cream cups. "Miyamoto-kun, want some?"
"Depends," I said, smirking. "What flavor?"
"Chocolate," Hasebe said. "But if you want it, you'll have to win a round of rock-paper-scissors."
"High stakes, huh?"
We played; I lost. Naturally.
They giggled and walked away, and I leaned back, smiling faintly. Maybe peace wasn't so bad.
Later that afternoon, I decided to wander the ship. The hallways gleamed like mirrors, the faint sound of waves muffled beneath the floor.
That's when I spotted her.
Ibuki Mio.
Walking alone down the corridor, her usual sharp gaze fixed straight ahead. She wore the school's casual summer uniform — crisp white shirt, short skirt, hair tied in a ponytail.
There was still a faint bruise on her arm from the island incident.
She didn't seem to notice me at first.
Naturally, I couldn't resist.
"Well, if it isn't Ryūen's right hand," I said, leaning against the wall. "Or should I say, the great underwear thief herself?"
Ibuki froze mid-step. Then, slowly, she turned.
Her eyes narrowed like daggers.
"Miyamoto," she said flatly. "Do you want to die today?"
I grinned. "Depends. Are you offering?"
She glared, stepping closer. "You've got guts teasing me after what happened."
"Guts?" I shrugged. "Maybe I just like seeing that scary face of yours."
That did it. Her foot lashed out with a kick — fast, sharp, perfectly aimed at my ribs.
I barely dodged, stumbling back as her heel whistled past.
"Oi, oi, violence already? We just started talking!"
"This is me talking!" she snapped, lunging again.
I laughed, spinning out of reach. "You really don't do friendly conversation, huh?"
"Friendly conversation with you? Not in this lifetime!"
The chase began.
The hallway turned into our battlefield.
I darted around a corner, Ibuki hot on my heels.
"Get back here, you jerk!" she shouted.
"I'd love to, but I'm allergic to angry women!" I yelled back, sprinting past confused second-years.
A few students peeked out from their rooms as we tore down the corridor — one of them being Koenji, who raised an eyebrow.
"My, my," he mused, sipping his drink. "How delightfully primitive."
"Koenji, help me out here!" I shouted as I ran by.
"Absolutely not," he replied cheerfully, stepping aside to let Ibuki chase me past him. "Run, commoner, run!"
"Traitor!" I barked, diving into the stairwell.
Ibuki followed, jumping down two steps at a time. Her athleticism was ridiculous — almost Sudō-level.
I dodged into the lounge area, weaving between tables and startled students. She leapt over a couch, landing with feline precision.
"Stop running and fight me like a man!" she yelled.
"I would, but I'm enjoying this too much!"
We circled the room like predators — though to any bystander, it probably looked like an argument between two kids who'd had too much sugar.
Finally, she cornered me near the deck door.
I raised my hands. "Okay, okay, truce. I surrender."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're lying."
"Cross my heart," I said, though I probably looked like the least trustworthy person alive.
She lowered her guard — slightly.
Then I smirked. "You know, you're kinda cute when you're mad."
Her face turned red. "WHAT!?"
That was my cue. I bolted through the door and onto the deck.
The sea breeze hit my face as I ran, laughing like a madman.
"MIYAMOTO, YOU—!"
Ibuki burst out after me, shouting something unrepeatable.
The chase finally ended near the ship's bow, where the waves glittered beneath the sunset. I slowed, catching my breath, and leaned against the railing.
Ibuki stopped a few meters away, panting lightly but still glaring daggers.
"You… are the most annoying person I've ever met."
"Aw, don't say that. You'll hurt my feelings."
"Good."
I chuckled, watching the horizon. "You know, you could've just ignored me."
She crossed her arms. "And let you run your mouth? No way."
For a while, we stood in silence — the only sound the soft crash of waves. The sky was painted in gold and crimson, and even Ibuki's sharp features softened in the light.
"You still working for Ryūen?" I asked quietly.
She hesitated. "That's none of your business."
"Maybe not," I said. "But if you ever get tired of being someone else's pawn… you know where to find me."
She glanced at me, suspicious. "Why would you care?"
"Because I hate seeing talent wasted," I said simply. "And because you're not half as bad as you pretend to be."
For a moment, her expression flickered — confusion, maybe, or embarrassment. Then she turned sharply away.
"...Idiot."
I smiled. "I'll take that as progress."
That night, I joined the others at the dining hall. The atmosphere was warm — laughter, teasing, clinking glasses of juice.
Hirata gave a short toast. "To Class D — for surviving the island and coming back stronger!"
We cheered.
Even Horikita smiled faintly, though she rolled her eyes at the noise.
Across the room, I spotted Ibuki at another table with a few C-Class girls. Our eyes met for a moment. She looked away instantly, pretending not to notice me.
I grinned to myself.
Maybe she didn't hate me that much anymore.
Later, I stood alone on the top deck, the night wind brushing against my hair. The sea stretched endlessly in all directions — dark, calm, and infinite.
It felt strange to have peace again. Almost unnatural.
But peace never lasted long in this school.
I could feel it already — that faint tension in the air, like the moment before a storm breaks.
Ayanokōji was somewhere below deck, probably already planning for whatever came next.
Suzune would be organizing notes, Hirata thinking of team morale, Koenji admiring his reflection in the window.
And me?
I just laughed softly, gazing at the stars.
"Guess I'll enjoy this while it lasts," I murmured.
Behind me, a voice spoke — familiar, irritated.
"Still up here causing trouble?"
I turned. Ibuki stood at the door, arms crossed.
I smiled. "Couldn't sleep. Wanted to see the stars."
She sighed. "You're impossible."
"Hey, at least I'm consistent."
She shook her head, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips as she turned back toward the corridor.
"Goodnight, idiot."
"Goodnight, Ibuki."
The door closed, leaving me alone with the wind and the sea.
For the first time in a long while, I felt… content.