The classroom buzzed with quiet anticipation. The morning sunlight spilled through the window blinds, painting golden stripes across the desks. Even though everyone tried to look calm, it was obvious what day it was — midterm results.
Chabashira-sensei walked in, holding a thin folder under her arm. Her usual cold expression was replaced with something softer — almost approving.
"Good morning, Class D," she said, placing the papers down with a faint thud. "Let's start with the good news. Every single one of you passed."
For a second, there was silence. Then the class erupted. Cheers, sighs of relief, and a few overdramatic groans filled the air.
"YES! I actually passed math!" Ike yelled, nearly falling off his chair.
"Guess miracles do happen," Yamauchi snickered.
"Shut it!" Ike barked back.
Even Sudō, who looked half-asleep, blinked in surprise. "Oi, sensei, you serious?"
Chabashira smiled faintly — the kind of smile that said, I can't believe it either. "I am. And before you ask — yes, even you, Sudō."
That got another wave of laughter.
Sudō puffed his chest, trying to look proud but couldn't hide his grin. "Ha! Guess my training paid off!"
Horikita, seated near the window, narrowed her eyes as she scanned the result sheet Chabashira handed out. Her expression stiffened.
"You went up twelve ranks," she said to Sudō, almost sounding impressed.
"Of course I did! I told ya I ain't dumb, I just don't like studying," he said with a smug grin.
Chabashira interjected. "That sudden improvement was likely a result of your determination during the sports festival. Effort can do wonders, even for students like you."
Then her gaze shifted toward the back of the class — to me.
"And Miyamoto."
I blinked. "Eh?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You've made quite a bit of noise in the school forum lately. I didn't expect that a lazy guy like you would have something Ibuki Mio couldn't hate."
A few snickers spread across the room.
I groaned and sank lower into my seat. "Sensei, can we not bring that up again?"
"Why not?" Chabashira replied coolly. "You've practically become a celebrity overnight. I'd call it… a kind of achievement. Though I'd suggest focusing more on exams than romance scandals."
Even Horikita cracked a small smirk at that.
"Anyway," Chabashira continued, "while you've all passed, don't get complacent. The real challenge begins now — the final exam of the semester."
The atmosphere immediately stiffened.
Chabashira began writing on the board. Each stroke of chalk echoed like a warning bell.
"Eight subjects," she said. "Fifty questions each."
A groan swept across the room.
"There are two ways you can be expelled," she continued. "First — if the combined total of your pair for any test is below sixty points. Second — if your total cumulative score as a pair doesn't reach the required minimum threshold. In the last exam, it was seven hundred points. That means you must average at least 43.75 per test to pass."
The math hit the class like a cold slap.
"That's brutal," Hirata murmured.
"Harsh, but fair," Horikita said.
Chabashira looked over her shoulder. "This test will also determine your pairs for the final exam. And the way it works is simple — the top scorer will be paired with the lowest scorer, the second with the second-lowest, and so on."
Gasps rippled through the class.
"W-wait, what?!" Ike stammered. "That means if I screw up, I'll drag down someone like Horikita?! No way!"
"That's the point," Chabashira replied. "This school rewards teamwork and punishes selfishness."
Then she added something that changed the entire tone of the room.
"Oh, and one more thing — you won't just be defending. You'll also be attacking."
A hush fell over the class.
"Attacking?" Karuizawa repeated.
"Yes," Chabashira said. "This final exam is designed as an inter-class competition. Each class must create exam questions for another class to solve. The class that scores higher wins — and gains fifty class points from the loser."
The room exploded with reactions.
"So we can mess with other classes?" Yamauchi grinned.
"To an extent," Chabashira said. "The teachers will screen your questions. Anything unreasonable will be rejected. And if you don't submit your exam, the school will use a standard template."
Ayanokōji raised his hand. "And how do we decide which class to attack?"
"Simple," Chabashira said. "Tell me, and I'll forward it to the administration. If multiple classes target the same one, the match-ups will be decided by lottery."
Everyone started whispering, trying to figure out the best strategic move.
As the classroom emptied for lunch, I noticed Ayanokōji sitting quietly at his desk, his expression unreadable as always. Horikita sat across from him, flipping through her notes, her brow furrowed in thought.
I leaned against the desk beside them. "You look like you're planning something already."
Ayanokōji's gaze flicked to me, calm as ever. "Just thinking about what's next."
Horikita sighed softly. "He's probably already figured out how to manipulate the results."
"I prefer the term optimize," he replied dryly.
She turned toward me then, her voice lowering. "I need to tell you both something — about Kushida."
That name immediately changed the air in the room.
"What about her?" I asked.
Horikita's eyes hardened. "Why she hates me."
Ayanokōji raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Horikita exhaled slowly, like she'd been carrying this weight for too long. "We went to the same middle school. Back then, Kushida was… perfect. Friendly, popular, adored by everyone. But then — rumors started. People said she caused her class to collapse."
I blinked. "Collapse? How?"
"No one knows," Horikita said. "The school tried to cover it up, but students were whispering about graffiti — hateful messages written on desks and blackboards. It got bad enough that teachers had to intervene."
Ayanokōji's voice was calm, analytical. "So she was bullied?"
Horikita shook her head. "I don't think so. The rumors said she was the one who caused it. But no one ever found proof."
"And you think it was her?" I asked.
"I don't know," Horikita admitted. "But the rumors stopped almost overnight. As if someone forced everyone to forget."
Ayanokōji leaned back. "Then it's likely the school or someone powerful intervened."
I frowned. "But if she went through something like that… don't you think telling us would just make her hate you more?"
Horikita's gaze softened, just for a moment. "Maybe. But we need to understand what kind of person she is. Because as long as she and I are enemies, Class D will never have peace."
Ayanokōji nodded slightly. "If she really did destroy her class, she didn't do it with brute force. That kind of damage… comes from lies."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Later that afternoon, the "strategy group" gathered in an empty classroom.
It was a small circle — Ayanokōji, Horikita, Kushida, Hirata, Karuizawa, Sudō, and me.
The tension was thick enough to choke on. Kushida sat across from Horikita, her usual sweet smile plastered on, but her eyes were colder than ice.
"So," Hirata began cautiously, "we need to decide which class to attack."
"Class C," Horikita said immediately.
Kushida's eyes flicked toward her. "Ryūen's class? Isn't that risky?"
"That's exactly why," Horikita said. "They're aggressive, but they've shown all their cards during the sports festival. If we strike while they're disorganized, we can win."
Sudō cracked his knuckles. "Heh. Fine by me. I've been wanting payback since that sports fest mess."
Karuizawa nodded, though she still looked uneasy. "I guess that makes sense. But… we'll need to be careful with the questions we make."
Ayanokōji finally spoke. "Leave the coordination to us. Horikita, Kushida, and I will manage the attack questions. The rest of you focus on strengthening your weaker subjects."
Kushida tilted her head with a sugary smile. "Of course. I'll cooperate however I can."
Her tone was friendly, but her eyes said otherwise.
As the group discussed logistics, I leaned toward Ayanokōji. "You're planning something again, aren't you?"
He didn't look up from his notes. "Always."
"Mind sharing?"
He smiled faintly. "Let's just say… I intend to make Horikita stand out more. The more she shines, the more I can fade into the background."
I stared at him. "You're scary sometimes, you know that?"
"I've heard that before."
By the time the meeting ended, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. The classroom was bathed in the orange glow of sunset.
As we left, I glanced back at Kushida. She was standing by the window, her smile gone, eyes distant — like someone remembering a nightmare she could never escape.
Maybe Horikita was right. Maybe she was the reason her old class fell apart.Or maybe… she was just trying to survive in her own twisted way.