Chapter 211 Kushida Kikyo Happens to Love Kissing the Most
Kushida Kikyo emphasized heavily in her heart—She! Kushida Kikyo! From start to finish, had no intention of getting a boyfriend!
Calling Shimizu Akira out was absolutely not for a date or to enjoy some "world of two"! Her primary goal had always been clear: she was simply feeling irritable just now and wanted someone to talk to, to get a few words of comfort from Shimizu.
Thanks to him, she managed to tide over her stomach with wild fruit at noon; and just now... they had kissed again.
Come to think of it, kissing actually felt very comfortable.
After all this time, the interactions between her and Shimizu weren't exactly few. Occasional hugs were nice; being wrapped in his warm scent made her feel inexplicably at peace. Lap pillows were also good; whenever Shimizu lay on her legs, a subtle sense of control would rise in her heart—as if at that moment, he was completely relying on her, something that belonged to her.
But Kushida herself couldn't explain why, among all these interactions with Shimizu, she happened to love kissing the most. That soft, intimate touch was more private than a hug and more burning than a lap pillow.
The moment their lips touched, a fine numbness would spread through her body. Once that numbness slowly dissipated, the unhappiness she had been bottling up seemed to be diluted along with it, and even her irritability vanished for the most part.
In short, the act of kissing had cleared away most of the frustration in her heart.
She was in a great mood now—so good that even if she had to maintain "Angel Mode" for the next 24 hours and greet the whole class with a smile, she felt she could do it with ease.
Now that her mood was smoothed out, it was time to think about business. What she most wanted to understand now was Shimizu's perspective: was Hirata Yosuke's decision actually reasonable?
"150 points? What exactly is it primarily being used to buy?" Hearing this, Shimizu raised an eyebrow, his tone becoming inquisitive.
"Let me think!" Kushida placed a hand lightly on her chin, carefully recalling the conversation. "When he discussed it with me, he said the manual made it clear that food and water are calculated by class packages, 10 points per set. Since this is a seven-day survival test, he calculated based on a minimum of two meals a day. Excluding the last day where we just grit our teeth and endure, that's exactly 110 points. Add 20 points for the portable toilet and 20 points for two male-only tents, and that totals 150 points. He also set aside 30 points as a reserve, so he's actually planning based on a budget of 180 points."
Shimizu pondered for a moment before slowly speaking: "Looking at it that way, it's acceptable. Hirata probably considered all possible scenarios and intentionally inflated the class point expenditure. But in reality, we can save a lot on water and food—for instance, at the river where we are staying, we can likely skip buying water. The wild fruit we found can serve as a supplement, so we won't need that many meal packages."
In Shimizu's view, this was a very effective method for collective action. Hirata Yosuke was indeed a qualified leader.
As soon as he said this, Kushida realized immediately: Hirata had intentionally overestimated the budget.
This was human nature. If the actual spending exceeded the budget, the morale of Class D would suffer—once people find that things aren't going according to plan, they inevitably panic.
Conversely, if they not only stay within budget but also save part of the class points as planned, it's easier for everyone to persevere. Especially by the fifth or sixth day, when they are struggling toward the finish line, the confidence brought by this "surplus" can stabilize many people's mindsets.
"Wait?! You mean the water in this river next to us can be drunk directly?" Kushida's eyes widened slightly, her tone full of surprise—she had only thought the stream looked clear and pretty, never considering it "drinkable."
"Drinking it directly should be fine," Shimizu added.
"I checked specifically earlier; there's no rotting vegetation or animal remains upstream, and no sources of pollution nearby. The water quality is very clean. When we go back, you can tell everyone this. If someone is worried, they can gather dry wood to start a fire and drink it after boiling. Also, we can apply to buy water kettles from Chabashira-sensei—in the wild, being able to drink hot water is always important."
"Mhm, mhm!" Kushida nodded repeatedly, trusting his words almost without reservation. Shimizu had never lied to her; what he said was true nine times out of ten.
What made her heart leap most was his phrase "you can tell everyone this"—wasn't this another tacit approval for her to take the lead on this matter? Just like the Sudo incident before, this man was truly clever.
At this thought, a smile spread across her face. If she proposed the constructive suggestion of "discovering a safe water source," her popularity in the class would surely soar, and everyone would see her even more as a thoughtful and reliable "Angel."
As she was happily calculating, she suddenly remembered something—when Horikita Suzune found the Base, she specifically mentioned it was "with Shimizu's help." That deliberate attempt to show proximity made Kushida feel a secret sense of satisfaction now.
After all, what was her relationship with Shimizu compared to that?
Horikita clearly liked Shimizu; when she saw Kushida proactively find him earlier, her face almost couldn't take the strain, looking like she was wearing a "mask of pain." If she knew that not only had Kushida kissed Shimizu, but even a reputation-boosting act like "discovering the water source" was something Shimizu specifically let her propose, wouldn't she explode with rage?
The thought of the expression Horikita might make deepened the smile in Kushida's eyes—this feeling of secretly having the upper hand was far too satisfying.
"Oh, right! I'm planning to suggest that Horikita Suzune be our class Leader!" Kushida suddenly recalled.
"Ah? You don't want to do it?" Shimizu asked back, somewhat surprised. Given Kushida's nature, she usually loved showing herself off in front of others; logically, she wouldn't easily pass up an opportunity to lead.
"I can't be the Leader," Kushida said with a beaming smile, waving her hand.
"You know I'm somewhat famous among the first-years. If I'm the leader, it'll be easy for other classes to target me. It's too much trouble having every move watched. Choosing Horikita-san is different—her reputation in class isn't great, and she isn't very conspicuous. That way, it won't be as easy for other classes to guess our plans. It's much safer."
Hearing this, Shimizu narrowed his eyes slightly. He could tell that while Kushida's words seemed to be an analysis of pros and cons, she was actually implying that Horikita had no friends and low presence—it sounded like an objective evaluation, but upon closer inspection, it carried a hint of deliberate belittling.
"So, what's your opinion?" Kushida asked, unaware of his thoughts.
"My view is a bit different; actually, the key is the location of the Base." Shimizu paused, his gaze landing on Kushida's face. He spoke frankly as the topic progressed: "However, given Horikita's personality, she will likely be happy to agree."
He knew Horikita Suzune too well—that girl was always competitive and constantly looking to prove her abilities. She wouldn't easily pass up an opportunity to take the lead and win benefits for the class; instead, she would embrace it. For her, this was an excellent chance to showcase her strength.
However, being the Leader actually involved two troublesome issues.
First, the manual clearly required the Leader to check in every eight hours. This meant that whether it was day or night, Horikita would have to check in at least three times a day—even if she was sound asleep at night, she'd have to set an alarm to get up, which would be quite an energy drain.
Second, the Leader would definitely become the primary target for other classes' probing. If a class correctly guesses another class's Leader, they gain 50 points and the other class loses 50. This 100-point swing is the core "zero-sum game" design of this exam. Once Horikita takes this position, she will undoubtedly be watched and tested by other classes, or even targeted.
He suddenly couldn't quite understand Kushida's intent. For Horikita, this was undoubtedly a great opportunity to perform—if she could handle the Leader's responsibilities well, she could shed her "antisocial" image and secure her footing in the class.
But thinking about it from another angle, given the previous relationship between Kushida and Horikita, why would she proactively give away such a good opportunity?
This felt strange upon reflection: if Horikita performed poorly, it wouldn't matter much; at most, it would be a wasted effort. But if she actually did well, using this deserted island exam as a springboard, she might solidify her position as the core leader of Class D, and her voice in class decisions would only grow heavier.
This was no joke—the Leader was the most critical role in this exam, holding tangible power. Take the "guessing other classes' Leaders" part, for example; the final decision on whether to submit a guess and who to guess must be filled out by the Leader personally. Other students don't even have the right to intervene. In other words, whoever is the Leader holds the important bargaining chip that affects the direction of the class points.
Would Kushida Kikyo be willing to hand over such power to Horikita Suzune?
As Shimizu was pondering the mystery of this, he suddenly heard a "rustle" in the grass ahead—the sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet woods. His attention was instantly captured, his eyes fixed on the gap in the bushes. A second later, a gray-brown wild rabbit hopped out, ears standing straight, lowering its head to nibble on the tender grass.
"A little rabbit?!" Kushida saw it too, her tone full of surprise, her eyes widening slightly.
"It's food," was Shimizu's more direct reaction. When his gaze landed on the rabbit, he already instinctively thought of the aroma of roasted meat.
"...You plan to catch it? But you don't even have a bow and arrow!" Kushida was stunned and asked back instinctively. In her view, hunting required tools—at the very least a bow. Did he really intend to chase it on foot?
Before she could finish, she saw Shimizu bend down and pick up a palm-sized stone from a pile of rubble—the stone wasn't perfectly shaped, but it was heavy and fit perfectly in his hand. Without waiting for Kushida to react, Shimizu raised his hand and threw the stone. The movement was crisp and decisive, and he didn't even seem to take special aim.
Yet the stone seemed to have eyes of its own. With a whoosh, it accurately struck the rabbit's head! The rabbit gave only a short, miserable cry before falling straight to the ground. After a few twitches, it went completely still.
???
Kushida's mind was instantly filled with question marks. She remained frozen on the spot, unable to keep up with the pace of what she had just seen—what exactly had just happened? This man actually used a stone he picked up at random to hunt?! No bow, no traps, she hadn't even seen a clear aiming motion; he just lightly tossed it and actually hit? This was too ridiculous!
She quickly walked forward, knelt down, and poked the rabbit's body. Confirming it was dead, she looked up sharply at Shimizu, the surprise in her eyes nearly overflowing. "How did you ever think of using a stone to hunt?"
Shimizu walked forward and picked up the stone—its surface was stained with a bit of damp mud, but the edges were unworn. He weighed the stone in his hand, his tone remaining calm. "I'm actually quite good at bowling; I have decent control over force and precision."
Before Kushida could figure out the connection between "hunting" and "bowling," she saw Shimizu suddenly look up, his gaze locking onto a distant thicket. A second later, he flicked his wrist, and the stone in his hand was hurled out with the sound of rushing wind—the speed was incredible and the force sufficient; it inexplicably reminded her of a professional baseball pitcher's moment of delivery on TV.
A moment later, a short, miserable cry came from the distance.
Shimizu walked over quickly and, before long, lifted a wild pheasant from the bushes. The pheasant was also quite heavy, estimated at about one kilogram, with blood dripping from its head—it had clearly also been downed by a stone to a vital spot.
Kushida looked at the slightly twitching pheasant in his hand, taking quite a while to find her voice. "Another one? And you actually hit it again?!"
No, was this man really a normal human being?! In less than a few minutes, he had caught his second prey?! And using only stones as tools?!
Shimizu placed the pheasant and the rabbit together, carrying one in each hand.
"It was luck. The prey here doesn't seem to have seen humans much, so their vigilance isn't very high. Plus, that pheasant just happened to stop in the open without being blocked by leaves. It wouldn't be this easy in the dense forest. I think this was also something the school put in on purpose to lower the difficulty level."
Kushida instinctively licked her lips.
'Doesn't this mean we get to eat meat?!'