Three days.
That was all that separated us from the final exam — and from the chaos that was sure to come with it.
For most students, that meant sleepless nights buried in textbooks and practice sheets. For me, however, it meant watching the tides of conflict shifting between the classes like invisible currents beneath calm water.
I sat in the quiet corner of the library, my eyes drifting over the open notebook in front of me — notes from Yukimura's study group, hastily scribbled formulas, and the occasional doodle Haruka had left when she got bored.
Across from me sat Ayanokōji Kiyotaka, seemingly relaxed as always. But I could tell, from the way his pen tapped rhythmically against the desk, that his mind was spinning faster than any of ours.
He finally broke the silence."Three days before the final exam. At this point, Class C only has two options left."
I raised a brow. "Only two?"
"Yeah." He turned a page, calm as ever. "Either they study seriously, or they prepare a trap — something like creating near-impossible exam questions for us to answer."
Yukimura, sitting to my right, frowned. "Given their history, I'd bet on the trap."
"Same," I said, stretching my arms behind my head. "Ryūen isn't the type to stay up late memorizing kanji."
Ayanokōji nodded slightly, eyes drifting toward the window. "What's strange," he continued, "is that I haven't seen anyone from Class C studying seriously. Not even their so-called elite students."
That, I thought, was concerning.
When Ryūen wasn't acting, he was plotting.
And if he was quiet now, that only meant one thing — he was waiting for someone else to make the first move.
The following day, I found myself walking behind Horikita Suzune and Ayanokōji, both heading toward the faculty office.
In her hands, Horikita carried a sealed envelope — the question set that Class D would submit for the final exam.
She was calm on the surface, but her stride was quick and firm — she had confidence in her questions, confidence in Yukimura's predictions, and confidence in her strategy.
We turned a corner, and that's when he appeared.
Ryūen Kakeru, leaning casually against the wall, a grin curling his lips.
"I've been waiting for you," he said.
Horikita didn't slow down. "You seem to have a lot of free time, Ryūen-kun."
He chuckled, pushing off the wall to follow. "Can't help it. I'm curious to see what kind of brilliant questions the 'new and improved' Class D came up with."
His words dripped with mockery, but neither Horikita nor Ayanokōji rose to the bait.
They handed in the questions together, standing before Chabashira-sensei, who, as usual, wore that cool, detached expression that gave away nothing.
Horikita placed the envelope on her desk. "These are Class D's questions."
"Understood," Chabashira said, taking them.
"But," Horikita added, her voice firm, "I request that no one outside of Class D — including the opposing class — be allowed to view them. Not unless I'm present."
Ryūen raised a brow. "How cautious. But sure, do what you want."
Chabashira nodded. "That can be arranged."
As we turned to leave, I couldn't shake the strange sense of ease radiating from both Chabashira and Ryūen.
Too calm. Too compliant.
Something was off.
Ayanokōji must've sensed it too because he didn't leave the room right away.
He lingered, silent, eyes narrowing slightly as Chabashira slipped the envelope into a drawer.
Then, in that still air, Horikita suddenly turned back.
"Sensei," she said slowly, "those questions will actually be used in the exam… right?"
Chabashira's expression flickered — not visibly, but enough for someone observant like Ayanokōji to notice.
Her answer was vague. "Of course. As long as there are no irregularities."
And just like that, everything clicked.
Horikita's eyes widened. "Don't tell me—"
A low chuckle cut her off. Ryūen's.
"Too slow, Horikita." He stepped closer, smirking. "You really thought you could outwit me this easily?"
The truth hit us all at once — Kushida Kikyo had already handed in a different set of questions before Horikita arrived.
And Ryūen knew it.
He was enjoying every second of this.
Horikita's grip on the desk tightened. "So she betrayed us again."
Ryūen laughed openly now. "Of course she did. You should've known better. That girl's got more faces than you can count."
Chabashira gave a small sigh, confirming our worst suspicion. "Kushida did indeed submit a set of questions earlier today. They appeared valid at the time."
I could see the realization dawn on Ayanokōji's face — not surprise, but quiet acknowledgment. He must've predicted something like this.
Horikita lowered her head slightly, her voice cold and precise. "I see."
Ryūen turned to leave, smirking like a cat that had cornered its prey. "Guess I'll see you on exam day. Oh, and Horikita—try not to cry when you lose."
He pushed open the door and left, his laughter echoing through the hallway.
But instead of collapsing into despair, Horikita did something unexpected.
She smiled.
And not the cold, cutting smile she usually wore — this one was small, calm, knowing.
Ayanokōji caught it immediately. "You planned this."
Horikita nodded. "Of course."
She turned to Chabashira. "When Kushida came to you, I had already informed you not to accept any alternate question submissions, didn't I?"
Chabashira met her gaze — and for once, a trace of surprise flickered across her composed face. Then, slowly, she smiled too.
"You're learning, Horikita."
Ryūen hadn't outsmarted her — he'd walked right into her countermeasure.
The fake acceptance was all part of Horikita's trap to gauge the enemy's strategy and confirm Kushida's betrayal beyond doubt.
Even Ayanokōji looked mildly impressed. "You've grown more cautious than I expected."
Horikita's eyes glimmered faintly. "We can't afford to underestimate Ryūen anymore. Or Kushida."
Chabashira folded her arms. "Still, this situation worries me. That girl… she's more unstable than you realize."
The air turned heavy.
None of us needed to say it aloud — the real battle wasn't the exam itself. It was trust.
The morning of the exam arrived like the calm before a storm.
The classroom buzzed with quiet energy. Strangely enough, there wasn't the usual panic that came with tests. Everyone was composed — too composed.
Maybe it was confidence. Maybe it was fear hiding behind routine.
The required total score for each pair had been set: 692 points.
No one said it out loud, but everyone knew — fail, and someone might be expelled.
As I sat near the back with Yukimura and the others, I caught glimpses of Ayanokōji flipping through his notes, his face as unreadable as always.
Hirata leaned toward him. "Karuizawa's been paying a lot of attention to you lately," he said softly. "It's… noticeable."
Ayanokōji looked up. "Is that so?"
Hirata smiled faintly. "Also… I know, you know. About you being the one Class C's after."
A pause.
Ayanokōji didn't confirm or deny it — just looked at the front of the class again.
When the papers arrived, everyone held their breath.
He scanned the questions briefly — and the corners of his lips twitched. Yukimura's predictions had been perfect.
But then his gaze shifted.
To Chabashira. Then to Kushida.
She hadn't moved. For two, maybe three minutes, she sat completely still, pen untouched, her eyes fixed on the paper.
Then, softly — almost a whisper — she said:
"...Why?"
It was quiet, but I heard it. Everyone did.
Whatever she saw on that test paper — it wasn't what she'd expected.
The trap had sprung.
5. After the Exam
Hours later, after the final math paper, we all filed out of the room like exhausted soldiers returning from battle.
Horikita was the last to stand. She approached Ayanokōji, her posture relaxed but her voice brimming with confidence.
"I'm certain of it," she said. "At least ninety-eight percent."
That number was insane — even for Yukimura.
But looking at her, I believed it.
She was calm, collected, and in full control.
Then she turned away. "I'm going to settle things with Kushida."
Ayanokōji nodded. "And Ryūen?"
"She'll go to him," he replied. "After she loses."
6. The Bet's End
When the three of them met later — Horikita, Kushida, and Ayanokōji — the tension was thick enough to choke on.
Kushida stood there, silent, her expression unreadable.
Then, finally, she exhaled and said, "I lost."
Her voice trembled, not from sadness, but from something else — acceptance laced with fury.
"I'll keep my word. I won't interfere with Class D anymore," she said flatly. "But don't expect me to help, either."
Horikita nodded. "That's fine."
Ayanokōji, however, watched her closely. Something in his eyes said he didn't believe this truce would last forever.
He was right not to.
Because even though Kushida agreed to the deal, her gaze as she left the room wasn't that of surrender. It was of someone quietly promising revenge.
7. Ryūen's Countermove
That night, Ayanokōji received a message.
No words — just a single image attachment.
It was Manabe, sitting somewhere unfamiliar, her expression uneasy.
The message read:
"Having fun playing god, 'X'?"
I was there when he opened it — standing by the vending machines, holding two cans of coffee.
"Ryūen?" I asked.
He nodded slightly. "He's making his next move."
Meanwhile, somewhere else on campus, Kushida Kikyo met with Ryūen Kakeru.
It was late — the night air sharp, the faint sound of waves crashing against the nearby shore.
Ryūen's grin was as sharp as ever.
"So," he said, "you really thought you could fool me and Class D?"
Kushida clenched her fists. "I was supposed to win! You promised—"
He interrupted with a laugh, pulling something from her blazer pocket — folded pieces of paper.
Cheat sheets.
Her eyes widened in horror.
"These were all over your uniform," he said lazily. "If I reported this to the school, you'd be expelled in an instant."
She stepped back, trembling. "Y-you planted those!"
Ryūen smirked. "Did I? Or did someone else?"
He leaned in close, voice low. "The event at the karaoke bar? That was a setup. Everything that's happened — every reaction, every move — has been orchestrated by one person. 'X.'"
Kushida stared at him, shaken. "Who is it?"
Ryūen laughed quietly. "Not Horikita. Not Karuizawa. Not anyone you'd expect."
He pulled out his phone and showed her a picture — Karuizawa Kei, smiling innocently.
"She's the key," he said. "Figure her out, and you'll find 'X'."
Kushida swallowed hard. "You… you're working with them?"
Ryūen shrugged. "Let's just say I'm enjoying the game."
He turned to leave, his words drifting behind him like smoke.
"Keep playing your role, Kushida. But if you go after Horikita again…" He glanced back, his smile gone. "…You'll be destroyed first."
Result:
Class A:874-->974
Class B:703-->603
Class C:592-->492
Class D:337-->437