The time was 23:47.The ship was silent, except for the faint rumble of waves hitting the hull. Most students were already asleep — exhausted after their first day of calculated lies and mental warfare.
Kiyotaka Ayanokōji, on the other hand, wasn't like most students.
He returned to the room quietly, his mind already sifting through the events of the day like puzzle pieces. The door clicked softly behind him as he stepped inside.
The room lights were dim. Hirata and Yukimura were sitting by the table, speaking in hushed tones.Across the room, Kōenji Rokusuke was shirtless, doing one-handed push-ups in front of the window, his reflection shimmering against the dark sea.
And in the middle of it all, sitting cross-legged on his bed, was me — Miyamoto Soshi — the so-called "unofficial boss" of Class D, idly spinning my phone in one hand while listening to Hirata explain something.
Kiyotaka's eyes flickered briefly across the room. "You're all still awake."
Hirata looked up, relief flashing across his face. "Ah, Ayanokōji-kun! You came back at the right time. We were just talking about something important."
Yukimura nodded. "Yes. Hirata received new information about the VIP students."
Kōenji didn't respond. He was on his 98th push-up, humming a classical tune like he was performing for an invisible audience.
Kiyotaka walked closer, quietly taking a seat beside Hirata.
"Two of our classmates," Hirata began, lowering his voice, "have already been confirmed as VIPs. I think it's better if we all know about it, so we don't end up accidentally exposing them."
Yukimura crossed his arms. "We're only sharing this because we trust each other. So don't say it out loud."
I leaned back, half-listening, half-smiling. "You guys sound like we're in a mafia meeting. Should I dim the lights more?"
Yukimura sighed. "This isn't a joke, Miyamoto."
"I know," I said lazily. "I'm just setting the mood."
Hirata took out his phone, glancing around cautiously. "We shouldn't say their names out loud. Just look."
He held up his screen, showing a message from a trusted source — and two familiar names:
Dragon Group: Kikyō Kushida – VIPHorse Group: Minami – VIP
Kiyotaka's gaze lingered for only a second before he nodded. "Understood. You made the right choice not saying it aloud."
"Right?" Hirata said, smiling with relief. "I thought so. It's safer to keep it this way. Even walls have ears, after all."
I snorted softly. "And this ship has cameras."
Hirata froze mid-nod, then gave a nervous laugh. "Let's hope not in our room."
"Yeah, Hirata," I said, grinning. "We wouldn't want the school to catch your top-secret night meetings."
Kiyotaka remained silent. He was watching how everyone reacted — every tone, every micro-expression.For him, information wasn't just in words. It was in hesitation.
Yukimura tapped his chin. "So Kushida and Minami are confirmed. That means… it's possible there's a third VIP among us."
"Possible," Kiyotaka said. "But unlikely that Class D got three out of twelve. Still—"
"No," Yukimura interrupted, adjusting his glasses sharply. "Think about it. Ayanokōji's group — Rabbit — still hasn't had any major progress. If we assume the school distributed VIPs evenly across class strength, that group could easily have another from Class D."
His eyes shifted toward me. "Right, Miyamoto?"
I froze for a moment — then smiled.
"Yeah," I said, leaning back. "You're right. There is another one."
The room fell silent.
Even Kōenji, mid-push-up, paused and glanced over with a raised brow.
Yukimura frowned. "Wait—you're serious? You know who it is?"
"Of course I do," I said lightly. "Karuizawa Kei. She's the VIP in the Rabbit Group."
Hirata's eyes widened. "Karuizawa? Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," I replied, stretching my arms.
Yukimura stared at me like he was trying to solve an equation. "Then tell us — how do you know that?"
I smiled faintly. "Sorry, that's top secret."
"Top secret—?" Yukimura's brows twitched. "We're supposed to be working together. This isn't a game."
"Maybe not," I said calmly. "But as the boss of the Miyamoto Gang, I can't just reveal how I think. A boss who explains every move isn't a boss at all."
Kiyotaka's gaze flicked toward me, unreadable.
Yukimura clenched his fists. "That's ridiculous. You expect us to just believe you?"
I shrugged. "You can think whatever you want. If it turns out I'm wrong, I'll buy you dinner after the exam. Fair deal?"
Hirata tried to laugh off the tension. "Let's not fight, okay? Soshi's just… being Soshi."
"Exactly," I said, smirking. "Unreliable, mysterious, and annoyingly charming."
"Just annoying," Yukimura muttered under his breath.
While we were talking, Kōenji finished his set of push-ups, stood up, and began adjusting his hair in the mirror.The sound of his humming filled the silence again — loud, confident, and completely off-tempo.
Yukimura's patience, already fragile, finally snapped.
"Can you not do that while we're talking about something serious?"
Kōenji turned with a dramatic flourish. "Oh? And here I was thinking my melody might stimulate your meager intellects."
"This isn't a joke, Kōenji!" Yukimura shot back. "Don't tell me you're planning to drop out of this exam like you did in the island test!"
Kōenji placed a hand dramatically on his chest. "Drop out? My dear Yukimura-kun, I merely follow the path of a free man. I have no need for these childish games."
Yukimura slammed his hands on the table. "You're unbelievable!"
I quickly stood up, moving between them before Yukimura actually lunged. "Alright, alright, cool down. We don't need a fistfight in our room. That'd be a pain to explain to the teachers."
"Tell him to take this seriously, then!"
Kōenji chuckled, brushing his golden hair back. "My seriousness, my dear boy, is reserved only for beauty, wealth, and myself. This exam is nothing but a simple quiz — a little riddle to find the liar among us."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone with a flourish. "And I despise quizzes."
Kiyotaka's eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you doing, Kōenji?"
"Ending this farce," Kōenji said simply, tapping his phone screen a few times.
The room fell silent.
Then, within seconds, all of our phones buzzed simultaneously.
Yukimura blinked. "What—?"
Hirata looked down at his phone and went pale.
[Notice from the School Administration]"The Monkey Group's Zodiac Test has concluded."
A heavy silence hung in the room.
Kōenji smiled triumphantly, tossing his phone up once before catching it again. "There. I have now regained my freedom."
He threw the phone onto his bed, where it bounced once before landing with a dull thud.
"Gentlemen," he said with a smirk, "enjoy the remainder of your tedious exam. I, Kōenji Rokusuke, am off to cleanse myself of this boredom."
And with that, he strutted into the bathroom, humming Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 like a victorious soldier marching home.
The door clicked shut.
No one spoke for a full ten seconds.
Hirata's phone began vibrating again — dozens of notifications lighting up the screen.
He looked at the flood of messages from classmates in shock.
"What happened?""Did Kōenji just finish the exam by himself?""Is that even allowed!?"
Hirata looked helpless. "This is… unbelievable. Everyone's panicking."
Yukimura pinched the bridge of his nose. "That idiot! He probably submitted an answer just to end the exam. Do you realize what this means for the class? We'll lose points—"
"Or maybe not," Kiyotaka said quietly.
They all turned toward him.
"If his answer was correct, our class could actually gain points. But since it's Kōenji, the probability of that is… uncertain."
Yukimura groaned. "You think he even read the rules properly?"
"No," Kiyotaka said simply.
I leaned back on my bed, whistling. "Well, at least the Monkey Group lives up to its name. Guess our golden monkey found the quickest way out."
Yukimura shot me a glare. "You're taking this too lightly, Miyamoto."
"Because I already knew something like this would happen," I said. "When you have someone like Kōenji in your class, expect chaos. He's like a natural disaster — unpredictable, unstoppable, and impossible to argue with."
Hirata sighed, rubbing his temples. "Still, we'll have to deal with the fallout tomorrow. Everyone's going to want an explanation."
"I'm not explaining anything," I said, stretching. "Let Kōenji enjoy his freedom. Maybe he'll start a skincare vlog next."
That earned a quiet chuckle from Hirata, though even he looked exhausted.
After a few more minutes of discussion, the tension began to fade. Hirata and Yukimura continued debating about what to tell the class, while Kiyotaka quietly stood and slipped toward the door.
"I'm going to take a walk," he said.
Hirata nodded. "Be careful, Ayanokōji-kun. Don't stay out too late."
Kiyotaka left without another word.
Once the door closed, I finally pulled out my phone again. The screen glowed faintly in the dark.
For a moment, I hesitated — then found her name in my contacts.
Calling: Ibuki Mio
It rang twice before she answered, her voice soft and slightly irritated."What do you want at this hour?"
I smiled. "Just wanted to hear your voice before sleeping."
"Are you drunk?" she snapped immediately.
"Nope. Just sentimental."
She sighed. "You're unbelievable. Don't you have better things to do?"
"Not really," I said honestly. "I was thinking about today. Kōenji ended his exam, Yukimura nearly punched him, and now I can't stop imagining you in a maid outfit calling me 'darling.'"
There was a long silence.
"…You really want to die, huh?"
I laughed softly. "Maybe. But at least I'll die happy if I dream of that tonight."
"You're insane," she muttered, but her tone had softened — that familiar mix of annoyance and embarrassment.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Good night, idiot."
"Good night, Ibuki."
The call ended.
I stared at the dark screen for a few seconds, a faint grin still on my face.