Chapter 092: This is the school I have painstakingly built; Mr. Tsukishiro, you are not enough!
Time goes back to half an hour ago.
The lights in the dormitory had been dimmed for the most part. The voice-activated light at the end of the hallway was glowing with a dim, yellow light, flickering occasionally as if a flying insect were circling the lampshade. Dull light leaked from underneath the cracks of most of the room doors—some people were not yet asleep; some were whispering.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka sat up from his bed. His movements were very light, producing no unnecessary noise; from lifting the covers to putting on his jacket, the entire process was as quiet as if it had been rehearsed countless times. He glanced at the others in the same room—Ishizaki was lying on his back, snoring; Albert was curled up on his side; Hirata seemed to be frowning in his sleep.
And Hikigaya Hachiman was not in bed.
Ayanokouji did not mind, because he knew that Hikigaya must have gone to see the girls.
Ayanokouji quickly stood up and silently slid open the dormitory's sliding door. The door frame made an extremely slight rubbing sound of wood, he paused for a moment, then walked out and gently closed the door.
The hallway was empty.
Ayanokouji walked along the stairs to the ground floor, passed through the corridor on the side of the main building, and pushed open a side door leading to the gymnasium. The door hinge let out a squeak, which seemed particularly clear in the quiet night. He did not look back and walked straight in.
There were no lights on in the gymnasium, only the moonlight filtering in from the high windows, spreading a patch of pale silver light on the floor.
The air still held the scent from the day's exercise—sweat, rubber flooring, and a little bit of the smell of disinfectant.
Ayanokouji walked to the center of the court, stopped, and stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, with his back to the entrance.
He didn't wait long.
Behind him came the sound of the door being pushed open, followed by the sound of leather shoes stepping on the rubber floor—neither hurried nor slow, carrying a composure only an adult would have. The footsteps stopped about three steps behind him.
"Long time no see, Ayanokouji."
The voice of the acting chairman, Tsukishiro, echoed in the empty gymnasium, then was completely absorbed by the walls and roof, leaving only a slightly trembling tail sound.
Ayanokouji turned around.
The moonlight shone in from the high window, landing on Tsukishiro's face, illuminating his face, which wore a gentle smile, in a half-light, half-shadow state. He was wearing a dark gray overcoat with the collar turned up. His expression looked like an elder visiting a close junior late at night—if one ignored the sharp light in those eyes.
"Acting Chairman Tsukishiro." But Ayanokouji's voice was flat, "You came to see me here in the middle of the night, it shouldn't just be to reminisce."
Tsukishiro smiled. The smile only stayed at the corners of his mouth and did not reach his eyes.
"Of course not. I came to see you because that person has something to tell you."
He bit the word "that person" a little harder.
Ayanokouji's expression did not change at all. But his hands were pulled out of his pockets and hung by his sides.
"...What instructions does he have?"
"I wouldn't call them instructions," Tsukishiro said, "However—he is very disappointed in your recent performance."
The gymnasium was quiet for a moment. From afar came the sobbing sound of the night wind blowing over the eaves, like something sighing low.
Ayanokouji did not respond to this sentence.
Tsukishiro continued, "I have carefully reviewed all the examination records for the first semester of the first year. Your participation in all exams is regrettable. Although you participated, there were no brilliant achievements; in fact, you even left behind a pile of negative evaluations."
His gaze fell on Ayanokouji's face.
"That person has invested so many resources in you—you should at least show corresponding value."
Ayanokouji still did not speak. He just stood quietly, the moonlight landing on his side profile, making his silhouette look clear and cold.
Tsukishiro waited for a few seconds and did not receive a response, so he continued: "So this time, I am prepared to take action. I will gather 20 million points, and then hold a special examination at the appropriate time. You need to obtain these points in that exam—and then, you can transfer classes."
"Transfer to which class?"
"Any one you choose," Tsukishiro said, "As long as you are willing to show the strength you should have, the class position is not a problem."
Ayanokouji was silent for a moment.
"...As for the matter of transferring classes, I will judge that myself. But before that—I want to confirm one thing."
"Go ahead."
"In this forest camp exam, what you really want to do is to recover resources, right?"
Tsukishiro did not deny it. He didn't even show an expression of being seen through—he just curved the corners of his mouth slightly, as if appreciating a smart student who finally agreed to speak.
"That's right. Because your performance is too poor, I have to use some means in advance. The resource allocation in this school is too unbalanced—Class A has gathered too many evaluation points and private points; if those points are not recovered, they will always settle in the hands of a few. And my task..."
He paused.
"My task is to make those points flow again."
Ayanokouji looked at him, "So you prepared point cards. To balance the books."
"Prepared 20 of them. 1 million each." Tsukishiro's tone was understated, as if talking about an insignificant matter, "20 students, each collects 1 million, and then abstain, intentionally lose, or get zero points in a certain event during the exam. One person's zero points are enough to drag down the average score of the entire group. 20 people scattered in different groups—enough to push the group I want to push to the last place."
Ayanokouji listened quietly.
"When those groups fall to last place, the leader drops out, tied nominations, class point deductions, to protect classmates and submit 20 million—those recovered points will return to the school's hands." Tsukishiro said, "At that time, I will release a part of it as a reward for the special exam—and you, as long as you show the strength you should have, you can get those 20 million."
He walked half a step closer to Ayanokouji.
"This is a very cost-effective deal. You get the points, I complete the balance on the books, and that person can see that his investment was not in vain."
Ayanokouji looked at him. After a long time, he spoke.
"...I think you will fail this time."
Tsukishiro's smile stiffened for a moment.
"What?"
"I said—you will fail." Ayanokouji repeated, his voice still flat, but with a layer of something unclear that was more than before, "There is a reason why I didn't show my strength."
Tsukishiro narrowed his eyes. "What reason?"
Ayanokouji did not answer him. He just turned around, walked a few steps towards the exit, then stopped and turned his head.
"If you have to do something to go back and finish your task, then attack Class C of the first year."
"Class C?"
"Make them almost lose their drive." Ayanokouji said, "Let the core figures of Class C suffer enough loss, but don't completely crush them. Keeping a little foundation is enough."
Tsukishiro stood where he was, watching Ayanokouji's back, a glimmer of thought flashing in those sharp eyes.
Then he understood.
"You plan to transfer to Class C later."
Ayanokouji did not deny it.
"You want to take a Class C that has been crushed and bring it back up—that way your position in the class will be unshakable."
Ayanokouji still did not answer. But he did not leave.
Tsukishiro was silent for two seconds, then nodded gently.
"Okay."
Ayanokouji did not say anything more. He stepped out of the gymnasium, his footsteps gradually moved away on the rubber floor, and then were blocked by the door panel.
Only Tsukishiro was left in the gymnasium.
He stood where he was, hands behind his back, looked up at the moon outside the high window.
"...Interesting."
He said in a low voice, then turned and left from the other exit.
When Ayanokouji walked back to the dormitory building, the hallway was still quiet. He walked along the stairs back to the second floor, pushed open the door of his room, and walked in.
The snoring in the room continued. Someone turned over, and the bed board made a slight creaking sound. The moonlight shone in from the window, spreading a patch of silver-white light on the floor. Ayanokouji walked to his bed, just about to sit down, but his gaze could not help but fall on the position by the window.
Hikigaya.
The two looked at each other.
It seems Hikigaya has returned.
But Ayanokouji noticed—Hachiman's jacket was folded on the side of the pillow, with a faint scent on it. It wasn't the soap smell of the bathhouse, nor the residue of laundry detergent.
It was a girl's perfume. So, he really went to investigate the situation of the girls.
Ayanokouji's footsteps paused.
He stood by his bed, his eyes lingered on Hachiman's back for two seconds, then moved away.
Hikigaya went to see the girls. At this time point, to see girls—the only ones possible to see are the few core figures of the same grade. Ichinose, Karuizawa, or Shiina.
He was probably collecting information.
Ayanokouji sat down on his bed, took off his jacket, folded it and placed it at his feet, and then lay down.
The moonlight outside the window shone on his face, he looked at the ceiling on his back, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.
The curvature was extremely small, almost invisible in the dark.
He thought in his heart—
Hikigaya will not know that the one who is truly being attacked is the group where Katsuragi is in the first group.
Katsuragi Kohei, Horikita Manabu, will all suffer huge losses in this exam. Most of Tsukishiro's 20 point cards will be invested in the group where Group 1 is. As long as seven or eight people abstain, the average score of that group will completely collapse. At that time, the dropout of the leader is inevitable, and the quota for tied nominations—as long as the operation is appropriate, the person who is dropped out will be Katsuragi Kohei.
He goes.
Once Katsuragi drops out, Class C collapses.
Class C without Katsuragi is like a house without a foundation, it will fall with a light push. After all, Sakayanagi will definitely run away.
Sakayanagi probably wants to transfer to Hikigaya's class.
And by that time, he will transfer over—a Class C that has already been crushed, a class that is in desperate need of a new leader—he only needs to stand there, reach out his hand, and someone will follow.
Ayanokouji closed his eyes.
The moonlight stayed on his face for a moment, then was blocked by the clouds.
Darkness shrouded his expression.
On the bed next to him, Hachiman remained in a side-lying posture, breathing evenly, as if he had already fallen into a deep sleep.
But his hand under the quilt curled up slightly.
He did not open his eyes.
Neither of them spoke.
And on the first night of this exam, the dark pieces on the chessboard had already fallen.
.
,
.
At lunch time on the fourth day, the sun was just right.
The cafeteria was filled with the smell of miso soup and grilled fish, and the long tables were full of people. Boys and girls could eat together in the main cafeteria during this period, so the room was much livelier than the previous two days. Someone was squeezing out of the line with a tray, someone was stepping aside to give way, someone was shouting across two tables.
Hachiman carried his own tray and sat down in the corner. The meal was the same as usual—simple, filling, and the taste was mediocre. He picked up his chopsticks, just as he picked up a piece of grilled fish, the light in front of him dimmed for a moment.
Someone sat down opposite him.
Hachiman looked up.
Koenji Rokusuke. He was wearing a dark red sportswear, but the collar was open, and his hair was as meticulously groomed as ever. He was holding a cup of black tea, and there was only a small salad and a piece of bread on the tray in front of him. When he sat down, his movements were very composed, as if he had made some major decision.
Hachiman glanced at him, didn't speak, and continued to eat fish.
"Hikigaya boy." Koenji spoke, his voice neither loud nor small, but with a natural sense of presence, "I have an interesting message to tell you."
Hachiman put down his chopsticks and looked at him. "...What is it?"
Koenji picked up the teacup and took a sip, his posture as elegant as if he were attending a tea party instead of eating in a student cafeteria.
"Last night, the moonlight was beautiful. I tossed and turned, so I paced under the moonlight—you know, such a quiet moment always inspires the inspiration of a genius.
Then—" Koenji put down the teacup and tapped the table gently with his index finger, "I saw a good show. Ayanokouji boy and our acting chairman, were having a pleasant conversation in the gymnasium."
Hachiman's gaze fixed for a moment.
Koenji looked at him, with that signature, slightly playful smile on his mouth.
"You don't need to thank me, Hikigaya boy. I tell you this, just because I think—if this show lacks you, it won't be exciting enough."
Hachiman was silent for two seconds, then picked up the chopsticks again, "...Why did you tell me?"
"Because—" Koenji spread his hands, "You are more interesting than Ayanokouji boy. If you are eliminated, this exam will become very boring to me."
He said it very casually, but there was a definitive judgment in that casualness.
Hachiman picked up a piece of fish and put it in his mouth, chewed it slowly, then spoke: "Then do you know what they talked about?"
"Too far, couldn't hear clearly." Koenji said, "However—looking at that atmosphere, it doesn't look like an ordinary late-night exchange."
Hachiman nodded, didn't ask further.
Koenji tilted his head, and his gaze stayed on Hachiman's face for a beat: "Hikigaya boy, you are not very surprised."
"...Because I guessed some of it."
"Oh? Then aren't you worried that you will be attacked?"
"The person chosen to be attacked in this exam is not me." Hachiman said, "Although I am indeed an eyesore in some people's eyes, it is not now."
"So that's how it is." Koenji picked up the teacup and took another sip, "Then, are there arrangements?"
Hachiman glanced at him and didn't answer.
The arc of Koenji's mouth deepened by a few points. He didn't ask further, just finished the last bite of black tea, then stood up and tidied his collar.
"That's good. A genius likes to watch shows, but doesn't like to watch the stage collapse. Since you already have arrangements——————I am relieved."
He turned and left with the empty cup, his footsteps light, as if he were satisfied with everything.
Hachiman sat there watching his back disappear into the crowd, then lowered his head and continued to eat.
Kanzaki leaned over from the table next to him and asked in a low voice: "Koenji looked for you?"
"Hmm."
"What did he tell you?"
"Some information."
Kanzaki glanced at him, didn't ask further, and shrank back.
Hachiman finished his meal, returned the tray to the recovery point, and walked out of the cafeteria. The sunlight was a bit dazzling, he squinted, stood at the door for a few seconds, then walked towards the dormitory.
There were no classes in the afternoon.
Students were free to move around. Some were playing ball on the playground, some were washing clothes by the pool, some were sitting in the shade of a tree reading materials. Hachiman stayed in the dormitory for a while, reorganized the records of the previous few days, then put down the pen and walked to the window.
He watched the mountain scenery outside the window and stood quietly for a few minutes.
Then he sat back on the bed, took the pieces of paper under the pillow, and looked at them again.
Given by Karuizawa. Given by Kushida. Given by Ichinose.
The three pieces of information were stacked together, the grouping of girls, and the situation of arranging them to bribe members of the group where Hiyori was, were almost the same.
He folded the paper, put it back in place, then lay down, pillowing his head with his hands, looking at the ceiling.
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Time turned in the blink of an eye to the night before the real exam.
The noise in the cafeteria had subsided. Students walked back to the dormitory in twos and threes from the main building, some were yawning, some were whispering. The streetlights came on, casting warm lights on the ground one after another.
Hachiman saw sporadic shadows on the playground from the window, then turned around and looked at the others in the room.
Ishizaki was tidying up the bedding, Albert was sitting against the wall reading a book, Hirata was emo in the corner, Ayanokouji was sitting on his bed, his gaze falling on a certain point in front, without focus.
Hachiman didn't look for too long.
He lay down and closed his eyes.
In his ears came the sound of the night wind and leaves rubbing outside the window.
Tomorrow is the real exam. After four days of basic courses, the real exam will start tomorrow—meditation, written test, relay race, speech. Each item will be counted into the average score of the group, each item may determine someone's stay or go.
Hachiman's breathing became even. He turned over and pulled the quilt up.
But he went over all the information obtained in this exam in his heart again.
Every name. Every group. Every possible node.
Then he stopped for a moment.
...The position of the last piece of the puzzle had roughly taken shape in his heart.
He let go of his hand, and his breathing became deeper.
The wind outside the window continued to blow, and the leaves rustled.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow everything will be clear.
Acting Chairman Tsukishiro, let's fight!