It had been three days since the end of the Deserted Island Special Test.
The ship sailed smoothly across a sea of shimmering blue, sunlight dancing across the waves like glass. The scent of salt and perfume still lingered in the corridors, a reminder that luxury and discipline could somehow coexist in this strange school.
For most students, these days had been a well-earned paradise.
Kiyotaka leaned against the ship's railing, watching the water churn below. The hum of the engines was constant, steady, almost hypnotic.
He wondered — had anything really changed?
The laughter of his classmates echoed faintly from the deck behind him: Hirata chatting cheerfully with Karuizawa, Ike shouting about who was the "MVP" of the island, and even Koenji laughing flamboyantly at his own reflection in the glass.
It was peaceful.Too peaceful, perhaps.
He remembered Chabashira-sensei's words — her calm but cutting voice when she'd cornered him after the test.
"Your father wants you expelled. He says you'll leave the school sooner or later — just like Icarus, who flew too close to the sun."
At the time, he hadn't reacted. He rarely did.But now, three days later, the weight of that conversation still lingered like a shadow over the calm sea.
He had come to this school because of its isolation — contact with the outside world until graduation is forbidden.It had been the perfect cage to escape the White Room.Or so he thought.
But if his father could still reach him here… then nowhere was truly beyond his grasp.
A soft breeze stirred his hair. Kiyotaka sighed quietly.He didn't believe Chabashira entirely — not yet. But he also couldn't ignore her leverage.
Until I find the truth, he thought, I'll play along.
While Kiyotaka contemplated the quiet storm inside him, I had been living the opposite life.
The past three days had been pure, unapologetic leisure.
I spent the mornings hanging out with Wataru Ijuin and Kyosuke Okitani in the game lounge, where Wataru had somehow smuggled in a new fighting game from the ship's store.We'd spent hours shouting over the screen — Okitani mashing buttons like his life depended on it, Wataru bragging about "secret combos," and me crushing them both with cheap tactics.
"You're cheating!" Wataru yelled as his character was once again kicked off the virtual stage.
"It's not cheating," I said, grinning. "It's called strategy."
"That's not strategy, that's button spam!"
"Hey, if it works, it works."
Kyosuke groaned, flopping back on the couch. "I'm never teaming up with you again, Miyamoto."
"Good. I don't carry dead weight anyway," I said smugly.
We all burst out laughing.Moments like this — simple, dumb, and human — felt almost unreal after the chaos of the island.
Afternoons, though? Those were Ibuki time.
It wasn't intentional. Really.We just… kept running into each other.
Sometimes she'd be walking through the hall alone, earbuds in, pretending not to see me. Naturally, that only made me want to tease her more.
"Yo, Ibuki," I'd call, "you stalking me again?"
Her glare could've melted steel."You wish, idiot."
"Come on, admit it. You just can't stay away from me."
That was usually when she'd swing a kick, and I'd dart away laughing — the chase resuming like a ritual neither of us fully understood.
She'd never admit it, but I could tell she didn't hate the attention. Maybe, deep down, she even enjoyed the chaos a little.
Still, if I was being honest, it was nice to have someone like her around — someone sharp, someone real.Even if she wanted to strangle me most of the time.
That evening, while we were still laughing over our game scores, Kiyotaka walked in.
He'd changed into a clean shirt, looking as expressionless as ever."Done brooding?" I teased.
He gave a mild look. "You're unusually energetic, Miyamoto."
"Energy's all I've got. What's your excuse?"
"I prefer efficiency over noise."
"Spoken like a true robot."
He ignored that and sat down nearby, flipping through his phone.Airi peeked into the lounge a moment later. "Oh, Kiyotaka-kun, there you are. Everyone's gathering on deck soon."
He looked up. "For what?"
"Probably another announcement," she said, smiling nervously. "The teachers have been moving around a lot today."
Kiyotaka pocketed his phone.Another test already? He hadn't been told anything, but this school's silence was never comforting.
He looked out through the window. The sun had nearly set — the sea was gold and blood-red. The calm, it seemed, was ending.
At precisely 19:00, a clear chime rang throughout the ship.
Ding-dong.
Then came the voice — calm, formal, unmistakably mechanical.
"Attention, all students. You have just received an important message through your school devices. Please check your mail and follow the instructions carefully."
"A new Special Examination will be commencing soon. Gather at your designated rooms at the specified time listed in your message. Students who arrive more than ten minutes late will receive a penalty."
The voice clicked off.For a moment, silence reigned.
Then — chaos.
The corridors erupted with murmurs."Another exam already!?" Ike shouted."Didn't we just finish one!?" Yamauchi groaned.Even Hirata looked uneasy. "That's… sudden."
I pulled out my device immediately. A red notification flashed on-screen.
Special Examination — Instructions Enclosed.Designated Meeting Room: Deck Lounge 3-A.Time: 20:30.
I whistled low. "Well, looks like playtime's over."
Okitani groaned. "You think it'll be like the island again?"
"Probably worse," I said with a grin. "They wouldn't give us a vacation just to let us rest."
Meanwhile, across the room, Kiyotaka's gaze lingered on his own screen.His meeting room was different.So was Kushida's.
He noted it silently, brow furrowing.Different rooms meant randomized groups — possibly across classes.It wasn't just another class competition. It was something else.
Within an hour, the whole ship had transformed.
Students rushed through the halls, checking times, comparing rooms, trying to predict what kind of exam awaited them.
"Room 2-B," Hirata said as we walked. "That's me. You?"
"3-A," I replied. "Which means I won't be stuck with you."
He smiled faintly. "That might be a blessing for you, Miyamoto."
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," he said, chuckling as he disappeared down another corridor.
Ibuki passed by me on her way to the stairs, her phone in hand.She glanced at me briefly. "Room 1-C," she muttered.
"Oh? Different rooms, huh?" I said. "Guess I'll miss our daily fights."
"Good," she said sharply — but there was a flicker of a smile before she turned away.
I watched her go, shaking my head."She's totally gonna miss me."
Wataru rolled his eyes. "You're delusional."
"Probably," I admitted.
When I arrived at Deck Lounge 3-A, about 12 students were already seated — a mix of faces from different classes.That alone was surprising.
Across the room, I spotted Class A's Yahiko Totsuka and Class B's Chihiro Shiranami.C-Class's Ishizaki leaned against the wall, grumbling loudly, while a few first-year girls whispered nervously among themselves.
A handful of teachers stood near the front, clipboards in hand.
The room buzzed with low tension.
Kiyotaka wasn't there — his assignment must've led him elsewhere. I glanced at the clock. Five minutes to go.