The cruise ship's lights shimmered across the surface of the night sea, reflected like a broken mirror.
We had returned to comfort — showers, warm meals, air conditioning, soft beds — yet the atmosphere aboard was anything but restful.
The island test had ended. Results were in. Leaders revealed. And for the first time since stepping foot in this school, Class D had proven we were not destined to sit at the bottom.
But the shock still lingered.
That I, Soshi Miyamoto — quiet, ordinary, nearly invisible to most of my classmates — had been the true leader.
The ripples of that truth had not yet settled.
The following afternoon, my group gathered in the lounge.
"We should take a break," Haruka announced, stretching. Her voice carried the fatigue of a week's worth of strain, but her smile was bright. "If I see another tree or mosquito, I'll scream."
"I agree," Mei added softly. "The pool looks… inviting."
Airi's cheeks colored as she fidgeted with the strap of her bag. "Um… I wouldn't mind swimming a little, if it's not too crowded."
An clapped her hands together. "Then it's decided! Girls' pool time!"
The four of them rose, chattering lightly. Even Airi looked relieved, though she trailed behind the others nervously.
That left the boys.
Akito looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "So where to for us?"
"The cafeteria," I decided. "We'll need food that isn't dried rations."
Wataru groaned. "Yes. Actual meat. If I see another packet of hardtack, I'll throw it overboard."
Yukimura pushed up his glasses. "Fine. But we should also talk. There are things to discuss."
Kyosuke smirked. "Cafeteria meeting it is."
We parted ways with the girls, agreeing to regroup later.
The cafeteria buzzed with life — laughter, relief, the clatter of trays. Students from every class mingled, celebrating the end of hardship.
We claimed a corner table, trays stacked with steaming plates. The aroma alone felt like salvation.
Wataru bit into a hamburger like it was heaven. "God, I missed this."
Akito ate with controlled speed, but his eyes drifted toward other tables. "Listen. The class still doesn't know how to feel about you."
I nodded. "That was expected."
Yukimura leaned forward, voice low. "They're divided. Some think you betrayed them by hiding it. Others think you saved them. Either way, you've become a symbol. That won't fade."
"Symbols can be dangerous," Kyosuke added, swirling his drink. "People either worship or resent them."
I ate calmly, letting their words settle. "That's fine. Loyalty doesn't need to come from the whole class. Only from the ones who matter."
Their gazes flicked to one another, then back to me. They understood.
Meanwhile, the girls lounged by the pool.
Haruka floated lazily, arms spread. "So? Our fearless leader was hiding something big."
An giggled. "I knew it. Miyamoto-kun always looked like he was planning something."
Airi, blushing in her swimsuit, shook her head quickly. "N-no… I didn't know. He never said."
"But you trust him, don't you?" Mei asked gently, her voice barely above the splash of water.
Airi hugged her knees at the pool's edge. "…Yes."
Haruka smirked. "Well, then, that makes us his inner circle. Everyone else can deal with being shocked."
The four of them laughed, light rippling across the water.
For them, my secrecy hadn't bred doubt. It had only solidified trust.
But the rest of Class D wasn't so settled.
I could feel the stares when we walked the halls. Whispers lingered as I passed. Some sounded impressed — others suspicious.
"Why him?""Wasn't Horikita in charge?""Did the teacher know?""Is Miyamoto just manipulating us?"
The storm brewed quietly.
And that storm found me in the cafeteria that evening.
I'd just finished my second plate when three familiar figures appeared before our table.
Horikita Suzune.Hirata Yosuke.And Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.
The cafeteria noise seemed to dull as they approached. Hirata wore a troubled expression, Horikita's eyes were sharp, and Ayanokoji's calm gaze lingered on me longer than the others.
"May we talk?" Horikita asked, though it was less a question than a command.
I gestured to the empty chairs. "Sit."
They did.
Horikita wasted no time. "Why did you become the leader on the island without telling anyone?"
Her tone was clipped, demanding.
I leaned back, unfazed. "Because secrecy was essential. If everyone knew, it would leak. Ryuen's spies were everywhere. You saw how convinced he was it was you."
"But—" Hirata started, his voice tight. "Shouldn't we have trusted each other as a class? We're supposed to move forward together. Hiding something so important… it feels like betrayal."
"Trust doesn't win survival tests," I said evenly. "Results do."
Hirata flinched, torn.
Horikita's lips thinned. "And Chabashira? She knew. Why didn't she tell us?"
"Because the rules didn't require her to," I replied. "The leader must register with a teacher. I did. Beyond that, the system is confidential. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't disclose it."
Horikita glared. "You used the system to your advantage while keeping the rest of us in the dark."
"Yes."
The bluntness made her eyes widen slightly.
"I bought supplies, ensured our survival, and disguised my identity. If I had announced it, Class D would have argued, panicked, or leaked it. This way, we survived and scored higher than expected."
Hirata's hands clenched on the table. "But… isn't unity important?"
"Unity built on illusion crumbles," I said softly. "Unity built on results lasts."
For a moment, silence fell.
Then Ayanokoji finally spoke.
"You calculated everything," he said, voice low. "From the supplies to the exploration teams to Horikita's decoy role. Even the timing of when Hirata would announce the guesses."
His eyes met mine. They were unreadable, but sharper than before.
"You remind me of someone," he murmured.
I held his gaze without blinking. "Is that a compliment?"
He didn't answer.
Horikita rose abruptly, frustration radiating from her. "You may think this was clever, but deception fractures trust. Don't assume I'll approve of this again."
Hirata stood too, conflicted but unwilling to press further. "I just… hope we can work as one next time."
Only Ayanokoji lingered a moment longer. Then he stood, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"…Interesting," he said softly, before following the others out.
Elsewhere, on another deck of the ship, Kakeru Ryuen seethed.
The luxury of the cruise ship did nothing to soften his rage. He slammed his fist against a railing, startling Ishizaki and Albert beside him.
"That bastard," Ryuen spat. "That no-name Miyamoto made a fool out of me."
Ishizaki stammered, "B-but Ryuen-san, it wasn't your fault—"
Ryuen's glare silenced him.
"I don't care what excuses you make. I don't forgive humiliation. That guy thinks he's smart? Thinks he can outplay me?" His grin returned, sharp and dangerous. "Fine. I'll crush him. Doesn't matter if it's during a test or outside one. I'll make him regret ever crossing me."
The vow hung heavy in the humid night air. Ryuen's grudge had been born.
Later, my group gathered again in the lounge. The girls glowed with the aftereffects of the pool, hair damp, cheeks flushed. The boys smelled faintly of food and soap.
Haruka plopped onto a couch. "So, how was cafeteria life?"
"Intense," Akito said dryly. His eyes flicked toward me. "Interrogation, more like."
"Oh?" Haruka smirked. "Horikita and the others corner you?"
"Yes," I admitted. "They wanted answers."
Airi fidgeted nervously. "D-did they… accept them?"
"Not entirely," I said. "But they don't have to. As long as we know the truth, that's enough."
Mei gave a small smile. "We believe in you."
Their trust warmed me, though I kept my face neutral.
"Then we'll move forward," I said. "Together."
They nodded, one by one.