The morning of the seventh day began with a quiet chill.The mist rolled off the mountain paths in faint streaks, fading into the sky like exhausted breaths. The group gathered for breakfast in the dining hall — their last meal together before the dissolution of teams tomorrow.
Even with fatigue heavy in everyone's eyes, there was a strange sense of calm. The end was near.
Ayanokōji sat quietly, observing his teammates. The atmosphere had softened over the past few days. The countless hours of shared training, the snow-laced mornings, and the repetitive chores had worn away their initial hostility. Even Ishizaki, whose loud voice often grated nerves, had grown less combative.
Only one person still stood apart — Kōenji.
He leaned elegantly against the wall, arms crossed, avoiding any responsibility as usual. When asked to help with breakfast, he simply smiled and walked out of the hall. Not even a word of excuse.
Yukimura sighed, half exasperated, half resigned. "It's always him…"
Ayanokōji stirred his soup without comment. He knew by now — Kōenji was an outlier. A man who followed only his own rules.
As the morning dragged on, the students were led to the dojo for one last session of spiritual training. This time, meditation.
"Sit still, breathe, and focus inward," the monk instructed.
Around him, students closed their eyes and crossed their legs, their posture rigid. The smell of tatami and incense filled the air.
Ayanokōji obeyed quietly, his breathing steady. He could feel the faint tremor in his muscles from days of physical strain, yet his mind remained sharp. His eyes drifted open slightly — across the rows, he could see Ichinose sitting perfectly upright, serene but distant.
She's calm… but her calm feels forced, he thought.
He noticed her hands — trembling faintly before she clenched them into her lap.
By the time night came, the tension had shifted.The camp had grown quieter, yet heavier. A calm before the inevitable storm.
During dinner, Ayanokōji sat at a corner table, idly scanning the room when a familiar figure caught his eye.
Ichinose Honami — alone.
Her smile was there, but it was smaller, fragile, like paper stretched too thin. She carried her tray with both hands, walking carefully as if trying not to draw attention.
"Hey," he called out.
She turned, startled. "Ayanokōji-kun?"
He gestured to the seat across from him. "Sit down. You look… different today."
Ichinose laughed softly, trying to brush it off. "Ahaha, do I? Maybe I'm just tired."
Her tone was light, but her eyes betrayed her.
Ayanokōji tilted his head slightly. "You can fool most people, but not me. You're troubled."
Her hands froze mid-motion. "…You noticed?"
"I'd have to be blind not to."
For a few seconds, she didn't speak. Then, quietly, she began to talk — about her fears, her doubts, and the creeping unease that had taken root in her since the start of this camp.
"The exams," she said softly, "they're getting harder every time. Not just academically or physically… but morally. It's like the school is forcing us to question who we are."
Ayanokōji listened, eyes half-lidded. "It's natural. We're entering the final semester. The difficulty spike is intentional. They're pushing us to our limits — to see who breaks."
"I know…" she murmured, lowering her gaze. "But it's not about points or rankings anymore. What scares me isn't losing… it's losing someone important. Watching a friend disappear."
The faint tremor in her voice was real. She wasn't talking as Class B's leader — but as Honami Ichinose, the girl who still cared too much.
Ayanokōji leaned back. "And what will you do," he asked quietly, "if the one standing on the brink of expulsion… is someone you care about?"
Ichinose blinked, then — unexpectedly — smiled."…You really are scary, Ayanokōji-kun."
He raised a brow. "Scary?"
"That question. You weren't just talking about expulsion, were you? You were asking what happens after someone leaves. What they become."
For a moment, her eyes sparkled again, just a hint of her old confidence. "You always hide meaning in your words. I almost didn't catch it."
Ayanokōji feigned modesty. "You're overestimating me."
She shook her head lightly, standing up with her tray. "Maybe. But you always say less and mean more. It's… strange."
He watched her walk away — quiet, tired, but with a faint determination in her steps.
When other students called out to her — "Ichinose! Over here!" — she waved them off with a polite smile and said she needed rest. Her smile faded as soon as her back was turned.
She's avoiding them, Ayanokōji thought. Sakayanagi must have moved already.
The exam would begin tomorrow. The first cracks were forming.
Later that night, the corridors were dim and silent.Ayanokōji walked along the quiet hall, planning to return to his room — until he heard a muffled sob.
Behind one of the pillars, Akane Tachibana crouched low, her face hidden in her hands.
Karuizawa had mentioned her earlier — she was supposed to be watched.
Ayanokōji approached slowly. "You shouldn't cry out here. Someone might see you."
She flinched. "A-Ayanokōji? What are you doing here?"
"Same as you. Wandering."
She wiped her eyes quickly, forcing a smile. "I'm fine. Really."
He tilted his head. "If you were fine, you wouldn't be hiding."
Her lips trembled. "I'm just… tired."
He crouched beside her. "Then why not talk to the former student council president? You're always by his side. Surely you can confide in him."
Her eyes widened in shock. "H-How did you—"
He gave her a calm look. "Manabu Horikita is strong, but he's still human. You're worried about him, aren't you?"
She froze, then looked away. "…Even if I am, it doesn't matter."
"Why?"
"Because he's fighting alone." Her voice cracked. "Always has. Against Nagumo, against the council, against everything. Even as president, he never abused his authority. He carried all of it… for us. For Class A."
Ayanokōji said nothing. Her loyalty was palpable — heavy with guilt and admiration.
She clenched her fists. "He's too kind. He protects everyone, even when it hurts him. But this time, with Nagumo's challenge… I can't help him. None of us can."
Her voice broke slightly. "I'm useless."
He sighed softly. "You're wrong. You just don't understand your role yet."
She looked at him, confused.
"If you really want to help him," he said, "don't throw yourself away. The moment you sacrifice yourself, you stop being his ally."
For a long moment, she stared — and then stood, trembling slightly."…Please," she whispered, "don't tell him I cried."
"I wasn't planning to."
She nodded and walked away, her shadow disappearing down the corridor.
Ayanokōji remained there for a while, his thoughts drifting.
So even Tachibana's on edge. That means Horikita-senpai's duel is already starting — just not officially yet.
Midnight came.
Ayanokōji lay still in the darkness, eyes open.Then — a faint creak.
He sat up silently. The dorm door opened, just enough for a figure to slip out.
Hashimoto.
Bathroom? he wondered briefly. No… too cautious for that.
Ayanokōji got up and followed, keeping his steps light.
Through the narrow corridor and into the cold outside air, Hashimoto walked briskly, scanning around before heading toward the forest path.
Moments later, Ayanokōji froze.
Ryuuen was already waiting there.
He hid himself behind the trees, listening.
"Did you really quit as leader?" Hashimoto asked, his tone almost mocking. "Hard to imagine you losing to Ishizaki of all people."
Ryuuen smirked. "Believe what you want. I got bored of leading."
Hashimoto chuckled. "Sure you did." He folded his arms. "You know, Sakayanagi's dangerous. But if the tide turns, I can always switch sides. Doesn't come cheap though."
Ryuuen raised an eyebrow. "You're that kind of guy, huh?"
"Practical," Hashimoto corrected. "I don't care about the journey — only the graduation line. Class A's my ticket."
They both paused when two new figures appeared from the shadows.
Nagumo Miyabi.Horikita Manabu.
The air turned cold.
"Leaving so soon?" Nagumo's smirk cut through the silence. "You should stay. It's not every night you get front-row seats to history."
Ryuuen scowled. "Not interested." He moved to pass, but Nagumo blocked him with a step.
Their eyes met — Ryuuen's glare sharp, Nagumo's filled with amusement.Then Ryuuen shoulder-checked him hard and walked past without a word.
Nagumo only laughed. "Still got a temper. I like that."
When the two first-years were gone, Nagumo turned to Manabu.
"So, senpai… how about excusing yourself from tomorrow's exam? Save yourself the embarrassment."
Manabu smirked. "That's a worse joke than Ryuuen's."
Nagumo's grin faded just slightly. "You should really consider it. Even your favorite protégé — Ayanokōji Kiyotaka — won't be able to save you this time."
Manabu's eyes narrowed. "You talk too much, Nagumo."
"Oh? You mean when I say that you put Ayanokōji above Sakayanagi, Ryuuen, and Ichinose?" Nagumo's tone turned mocking. "Funny thing is — you never denied it."
Manabu's response was cool and sharp. "Because I never said it to begin with."
Nagumo chuckled. "Too bad ."
The tension broke when Nagumo waved a hand dismissively. "This was a nice chat, senpai. Let's make tomorrow… unforgettable."
Ayanokōji quietly retreated, choosing another path back.
When he returned, Hashimoto slipped into the dorm not long after. For a brief second, their eyes met — an unspoken exchange in the dark.
Hashimoto's lips curled into a faint smirk before he turned away and lay down.
Ayanokōji closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.