Shiho Manabe froze at Sakamoto's words, her provocative sneer on her face.
"Logical fallacy? What do you mean?" Her voice rose unconsciously, her gaze sharp as she pierced the figure at the center of Class A.
Not just her—Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's attention also sharpened to its highest level. He subtly adjusted his sitting posture, appearing casual but in fact focusing every sense on Sakamoto.
Under everyone's gaze, Sakamoto rose slowly—again with that steady, gravity-defying motion. He didn't look at Manabe. His gaze seemed to penetrate the bulkhead, directed toward some deeper aspect of the school itself.
"Manabe-san believes the purpose of this exam is to promote class competition and widen the gap between us."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"However, I believe that before discussing competition, one should first consider a premise: Why did Koudo Ikusei High School divide us into A, B, C, and D grades from the very moment of enrollment?"
His voice remained calm, unhurried.
"Based on my limited understanding, this school's resource allocation—and even the 'successful future' ultimately promised—are closely linked to class standing. This institutional design itself seems to constantly emphasize 'differentiation' and 'selection.'"
The meeting room fell utterly silent.
He had made his point without revealing everything, but these words alone were enough to spark deep reflection. This was no longer a simple discussion of exam strategy—it had risen to questioning the school's fundamental operational principles.
Ayanokoji's mind raced. In a flash of insight, he formed a judgment.
I can't be certain of Sakamoto's full intentions. But I keenly perceive this: an opportunity. A chance to steer the discussion away from the deadlock of 'targeting Class D' and to probe Class A's true attitude.
Just as Manabe opened her mouth to refute Sakamoto for "being mysterious," Ayanokoji spoke.
"Sakamoto-kun's meaning—I might understand a little."
Every gaze instantly shifted from Sakamoto to this previously silent Class D student.
Even Sakamoto tilted his head almost imperceptibly, his gaze behind those glasses seemingly landing on Ayanokoji.
Ayanokoji met their eyes and continued in his characteristic calm tone:
"Excluding Class A, which holds the highest class points, the other classes face a choice. In situations like this group exam, obsessing over internal class strife may not be optimal. On the contrary—temporarily setting aside class divisions, seeking cooperation, and striving for 'Result One'—a plan that benefits most group members—is the more rational approach. After all, in the face of an absolute strength gap, mutual struggle only allows Class A to reap the benefits."
Ichinose Honami's eyes lit up. Ayanokoji's words resonated with her immediately. "Ayanokoji-kun is right! We should cooperate! We shouldn't be hostile just because of class differences!"
Sakamoto listened quietly, his expression unchanging.
That calm, unruffled demeanor made it impossible to discern his true thoughts. But Ayanokoji's interjection had steered the topic in another direction—and Sakamoto chose to tacitly allow it.
Shiho Manabe opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted to adhere to Ryuuen's instilled strategy of "shifting conflict," but faced with Ayanokoji's extended logic of "cooperating to deal with Class A," she couldn't immediately formulate a stronger rebuttal.
In Ryuuen's plan, provoking conflict between Class D and Classes B and C was the primary task. But the prerequisite was not to position herself against all non-Class A students.
"Hmph. Easy for you to say." Manabe's final retort was clearly weaker, her bravado fading. "But class competition is still a fact. Cooperation? Who knows if someone's just trying to take advantage?"
The meeting finally ended hastily—the atmosphere chaotic and unresolved.
The Class B students left with confusion evident on their faces. Ichinose continued trying to communicate with Manabe, who looked thoroughly displeased and hurried away.
Ayanokoji followed the flow of people out of the meeting room. He didn't immediately return to his cabin. Instead, he walked aimlessly down the brightly lit cruise ship corridor.
His mind replayed the earlier scene.
Sakamoto's words were definitely not idle chatter. He must have intended to express something deeper. My interjection might have been a lucky guess—or perhaps it struck precisely what he wanted someone to notice.
He needed to find Sakamoto. To confirm it face-to-face.
That feeling—of being manipulated by an invisible hand—made him, for the first time in a long while, feel an urge to seek direct clarification.
As he passed through an atrium adjacent to a curved staircase leading to the lower deck, a suppressed argument caught his attention.
He instinctively stepped sideways, concealing himself behind a lush potted foliage plant.
In the atrium, Karuizawa Kei was confronting Shiho Manabe from the meeting, along with another Class B girl. The atmosphere was unmistakably tense.
"...I just happened to pass by and said, 'You were so arrogant at the meeting, why are you silent now?' Is that why you're surrounding me?" Karuizawa folded her arms, her face displaying undisguised annoyance.
Before Manabe could respond, the girl beside her—Rika—spoke first, her voice laced with grievance and anger. "Karuizawa-san, you... before summer break, at the café in the shopping district, you cut in line and bumped into me. You didn't even apologize! And now this..."
Shiho Manabe frowned and tugged at Rika's arm, seemingly trying to de-escalate. "Rika, let it go. Ryuuen said to try not to cause unnecessary trouble."
Her attitude was a complete reversal from her aggressive demeanor at the meeting.
This scene immediately confirmed to Ayanokoji that Manabe's statements in the discussion room had been entirely orchestrated by Ryuuen Kakeru. These girls from Class B weren't extreme belligerents—they were following orders.
But Karuizawa Kei, provoked by their sudden "yielding," reacted with typical defiance. She lifted her chin and let out a sharp gyaru-style laugh. "Hah! Who remembers something so trivial? So annoying!"
Rika's eyes reddened. Manabe's expression darkened.
Just as the tension threatened to escalate—
Swish—!
A black shadow, accompanied by a strange, misty wind, glided at tremendous speed through the open space between the two parties.
Everyone froze.
Looking closely, Sakamoto had appeared there—somehow riding a long mop, gripping the handle with both hands as if maneuvering some peculiar mode of transportation. The mop head was wet, leaving a distinct water trail on the floor. His shoes were covered with transparent waterproof shoe covers.
He "braked" steadily between Karuizawa and Manabe, pushed up his slightly slipping glasses, and spoke in his characteristic calm tone:
"My apologies for interrupting. This area has just been mopped and is still wet. Please mind your step to avoid getting your shoes wet."
His method of arrival was so abrupt, so absurd, that it instantly dissolved all tension.
Manabe and Rika stared at him dumbfounded, then looked at the fresh water trail on the floor, then at the waterproof covers on his feet—utterly speechless.
Karuizawa was equally stunned, the argument completely forgotten.
Sakamoto nodded slightly at them, then—riding his mop—swished away to the other end of the atrium and disappeared around the corner. Only the wet trail and three bewildered girls remained.
The conflict had been forcibly interrupted in the most comical manner imaginable.
Ayanokoji slowly emerged from behind the plants. He looked toward the corner where Sakamoto had vanished, then at the rapidly evaporating water trail on the floor.
I should follow him. And see.