Chapter 009 If You Don't Want to Be Expelled, Date Shimizu Akira!
One thing needs to be corrected here.
Among Shimizu Akira's seven girlfriends, only four have actually had an intimate relationship with him so far: Kushida Kikyo, Hasabe Haruka, Sakura Airi, and Ichinose Honami.
As for Karuizawa Kei, he was the one who proactively sent her back that night.
Although Kamuro Masumi and Horikita Suzune have shared the same bed with him and engaged in plenty of intimate acts, they have yet to take that final step.
Masumi's stance is that such a thing shouldn't be given away casually; it depends on his performance.
Suzune, on the other hand, is simply conservative by nature. That night, she spent a long time acting bashful just crawling into the covers, let alone doing anything further.
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Saturday, 10:00 AM.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka received a message from Amasawa Ichika.
Amasawa Ichika: "Senpai, per our agreement, I'm coming over at noon today to cook! You'd better be well-prepared before I arrive!~"
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka: "Remember to message me before you come."
This kouhai named Amasawa Ichika was even more troublesome than he had imagined. Given her personality, she would likely show up abruptly regardless of the agreed time. While locking the door was an option, being mentally prepared was always safer.
Amasawa Ichika: "Got it, got it! Oh, and Senpai, you absolutely must use the kitchenware I bought to cook!"
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka: "Mm."
Putting down his phone, Ayanokouji walked toward the kitchen. Yesterday after school, Amasawa had dragged him to buy an entire set of kitchenware—pots, bowls, and even a chef's knife.
The dish she requested was Tom Yum Goong.
Ayanokouji hadn't heard of it initially, but an online search revealed it as one of the world's top ten famous soups, a spicy and sour specialty from Thailand and Laos. The main ingredients included kaffir lime leaves, lemongrass, and shrimp, seasoned with lime juice, dried chilies, ginger, and cilantro.
In reality, the Thai restaurant at the school already had it ready-made.
The ingredients he purchased this morning had already been washed and prepared.
As the clock struck 11:30, a knock sounded punctually at the door.
Ayanokouji opened it to find Amasawa Ichika standing there, holding a small bag of fruit, which she lifted with a smile.
"A gift for our meeting, Senpai!"
Ayanokouji took it and glanced inside; they were green grapes.
"...Thanks."
"You're welcome!" Amasawa stepped inside naturally, her gaze immediately drawn to the kitchen. "Wow, have you started already? It smells so good!"
Ayanokouji didn't respond, simply stepping back to let her in.
Amasawa was like a curious cat, looking around the room without touching anything. Finally, she stopped at the kitchen doorway, gripping the frame with both hands and peeking inside.
"So Senpai can actually cook. Impressive."
"I learned it online."
"Still impressive." She tilted her head. "I can't cook at all. I've eaten at the cafeteria my whole life."
'The cafeteria? More accurately, it would be the nutritional meals of the White Room', Ayanokouji thought silently.
He served a large bowl of the finished soup and placed it before her. Amasawa took a sip, then looked up and nodded involuntarily.
"Delicious!"
This wasn't mere politeness; the soup was fresh and flavorful—it was indeed very good. Ayanokouji gave a small grunt of affirmation and served a bowl for himself.
"Ayanokouji-senpai was being humble a few days ago saying he couldn't cook. You were lying, weren't you?" Amasawa set down her spoon and smiled.
Truthfully, seeing his deadpan expression, she really thought the "Masterpiece" wouldn't know his way around a kitchen.
After all, the White Room had no such curriculum. All trainees were provided meals by specialized nutritionists—standardized nutritional fare that Amasawa had long grown tired of. That was why she couldn't wait to eat all kinds of delicacies the moment she left.
When she said she liked people who could cook, it wasn't a lie. It seemed that in the year since leaving the White Room, Ayanokouji had picked up cooking. Not bad at all.
"I wasn't lying. I actually don't know how to cook." Ayanokouji set down his chopsticks and looked at her.
"So, since the school has a perfectly good Thai restaurant, if you wanted soup, why didn't you go there?"
"Ayanokouji-senpai doesn't understand." Amasawa waved her hand after another sip.
"The soup isn't what's important; the person cooking it is. Is it the same when a stranger in a shop serves me versus when someone I know makes it by hand? Besides, I'm not eating for free. Didn't I say I'd partner with you? That way, you should be able to pass this special exam safely, right?"
"Is that so?" Ayanokouji's attitude remained non-committal.
Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen. "A call from Shimizu?"
He looked up at Amasawa. She immediately waved him off.
"Go ahead and take it, Senpai! I promise not to eavesdrop."
Ayanokouji looked hesitant for a moment before saying, "...Fine. Drink your soup. I'll take the call and be back in a bit."
With that, he got up and walked into the bathroom, specifically closing the door to ensure privacy.
Amasawa continued to sip her soup slowly, but her gaze drifted toward the door. Through the barrier, the voice wasn't clear, but she caught a few fragments.
"...White Room... Tsukishiro... Acting Chairman Sakayanagi..."
'Hmm? Has Ayanokouji-senpai discovered something too?'
She instinctively pricked up her ears. She heard intermittent phrases like "Tsukishiro's conspiracy."
Amasawa couldn't help but shake her head. Strictly speaking, the reason she, Yagami, and Shiba-sensei from Class 1-D were able to enroll was precisely because Tsukishiro had ousted the original Chairman Sakayanagi.
But now wasn't the time to eavesdrop on intel.
She quietly set down her spoon and turned her gaze toward the kitchen. On the knife rack, the chef's knife she had personally picked out yesterday sat quietly.
'Isn't this the perfect chance to steal the knife?'
Her original plan was to intentionally leave a hairpin in a corner so she'd have an excuse to visit again. But now, the opportunity had presented itself. If she didn't act now, when would she?
Amasawa held her breath and stood up stealthily. Her eyes locked onto the kitchen counter; the knife was in the second slot of the wooden rack.
She glanced at the bathroom door. It was shut tight, and the conversation inside was still ongoing. Ayanokouji didn't seem ready to come out yet.
'Just a few seconds.'
She moved swiftly to the kitchen, reached out, and felt the cold touch of the handle. She gripped it and lifted it gently. The blade left the rack without a sound.
Amasawa quickly pressed the knife against the outside of her calf, hiding it with her pant leg, then returned to her seat as if nothing had happened.
The entire process took less than ten seconds. Such was the professional discipline of a White Room assassin.
She picked up the soup bowl again and took a sip. The Tom Yum Goong had cooled slightly; the sour and spicy flavors bloomed on her tongue, but she couldn't taste a thing. Her heart hadn't settled yet.
Success. She felt a sense of relief.
She put the bowl down and looked at the bathroom door. Ayanokouji was still on the call. About five minutes later, the door handle turned. Amasawa immediately adjusted her expression, curving her lips into a smile as if nothing had happened.
"Finished with your call, Senpai?"
"Mm." Ayanokouji walked out, his eyes scanning the table. "Finished the soup?"
"Not yet, you made too much." She laughed. "I'll pack the rest to take back for dinner."
"As you wish."
Amasawa took out the container she had brought, carefully poured the remaining soup inside, and closed the lid. Throughout the process, she kept her legs pressed tightly together. The knife was pressed against the inside of her calf, separated only by thin fabric—a shard of ice.
"I'll be going then." She stood up, picking up the bag, her smile obedient. "Thank you for the treat today, Senpai."
"Mm."
She walked to the door and pulled it open. "Senpai?"
Ayanokouji looked at her with his usual expressionless face. Amasawa, with her back to him, gave a light cough.
"...Never mind. See you Monday."
She stepped out and gently closed the door. The hallway was quiet. Amasawa leaned against the door and let out a long breath. The knife was in her pant leg. Her mission was finally complete. The rest could be left to Housen Kazuomi next door.
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Around 6:00 PM, Ayanokouji had changed into loungewear. He flipped through the review materials for this month's special exam while glancing at his phone occasionally.
At 6:30, the phone rang punctually. The caller ID was an unknown number. He answered without hesitation.
"Yo! You must be Ayanokouji Kiyotaka!" A raspy, arrogant voice came from the other end.
Ayanokouji's tone was as bland as plain water.
"And you are?"
"Hmph! I'm Housen Kazuomi! The boss of Class 1-D! You should have seen me when you were trailing behind Shimizu Akira like a lackey!"
Ayanokouji ignored the comment. "And the reason for your call?"
"Simple!" Housen's voice carried a hint of impatience. "I need you to help facilitate a cooperation between Class 2-B and my Class D!"
"I have no reason to help you," Ayanokouji said. "Besides, Shimizu usually handles these matters. If you expect me to influence class decisions, you've found the wrong person. I'm just a bystander in Class 2-B."
"Even bystanders have their uses!" Housen snorted.
"Aren't you Shimizu's friend? If you say a few good words for us, maybe that guy will relent!"
Ayanokouji tilted his head slightly. "If you intended to cooperate, why did you try to fleece our class a few days ago?"
"Tch!" Housen clicked his tongue. "That was then! Now Class A, B, and C next door have almost filled up their partner slots! If my class doesn't find anyone, we'll be forced into random assignment by the school!"
He sounded like he was suppressing his rage, yet forced to bow his head.
"Do you know how many points we lose for random teaming? 5%! The trash in my class couldn't pass anyway; how are they supposed to survive another 5% deduction? I didn't give a damn about them, but your class's Horikita Suzune changed the rules so that 'first-years who don't meet the standard lose 100 Class Points'! How am I supposed to live without Private Points next month? You expect me to eat those disgusting vegetable sets every day?"
Ayanokouji listened to the barrage of complaints without interrupting. Once Housen finished, he asked, "Two final questions. First, why not talk to Shimizu directly instead of coming to me? Second, what do I get for helping you?"
"Ha? Isn't that obvious!" Housen sounded embarrassed and angry. "That bastard Shimizu Akira wants me to apologize to your whole class in person! You want me, Housen Kazuomi, to do something like that? I haven't bowed my head to anyone since middle school!"
He lowered his voice. "That's why I'm looking for you! Aren't you his friend? You say a few good words, he gives me an out, and the whole thing is over, right?"
Ayanokouji didn't respond. Thinking Ayanokouji was wavering, Housen immediately added, "As for the benefit, I'll give you 500,000 Private Points! That should be enough for you to spend for a while, right?"
The line was quiet for a few seconds. Ayanokouji looked at the darkening sky outside the window before replying, "I understand the reason and the motive. But you're offering too little." He said slowly, "I want 1 million."
"1 million?!" Housen was stunned for several seconds, sounding pained.
"You're a greedy one, kid..." A rustling sound came from the other end, like someone pacing. After a moment, he hissed through his teeth, "Fine, fine! Meet me behind the dormitory at 10:00 PM tonight. I've already prepared a contract with the Student Council. You come sign it yourself, guarantee you'll help me with everything, and I'll give you 500,000 upfront, with the other 500,000 after it's done. How about it?"
"Deal," Ayanokouji replied concisely.
"Good! Remember, 10:00 PM, don't be late!" Housen added, as if fearing he would back out. "Ayanokouji, a wise man submits to circumstances. Help me this once, and if anything happens in school later, I, Housen, will cover for you! A man's word is his bond!"
Ayanokouji didn't answer. He simply hung up the phone.
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9:40 PM.
He checked the time, stood up, and grabbed the coat hanging on the back of his chair. The hallway was silent, and the streetlights outside the dormitory cast dim, yellowish circles. He slipped through the side door and circled to the back of the building.
It was a blind spot for the security cameras, illuminated only by a flickering, dying light. Housen Kazuomi was already waiting there. Leaning against the wall, he grinned as he saw Ayanokouji approaching.
"Yo, quite punctual."
Ayanokouji walked up to him without any pleasantries.
"Where's the contract?"
To his surprise, Housen waved his hand, his mouth curling into a mocking arc. "Contract? You really thought there'd be such a good deal? You wanted 1 million? Dream on."
Ayanokouji's expression didn't change.
"Then why did you call me out here?"
"Hehehe..." Housen began to sneer. "Ayanokouji-senpai, I asked you out tonight to discuss class cooperation. But you were greedy and demanded 2 million Private Points right off the bat. When I refused, you actually pulled out a knife to harm me. Isn't that obvious?"
"What are you talking about?" Ayanokouji frowned. "I don't understand."
"It doesn't matter if you don't understand; you will in a moment." Housen bared his teeth and slowly drew a familiar chef's knife from inside his coat. Then, without hesitation, he stabbed it into his own ankle.
"AAAAHH! It hurts! Ayanokouji-senpai, what are you doing?!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.
Housen came from a background of delinquency; years of brawling had long made him numb to pain. The wound on his ankle looked terrifying, and blood was indeed flowing, but he knew it was just a flesh wound.
What he wanted was that scream. When nearby students rushed over, they would see Ayanokouji Kiyotaka holding a knife, and he, Housen Kazuomi, would be the poor victim. Once the Student Council intervened with "conclusive evidence," expulsion would be the only outcome for his opponent.
And in his account, there would soon be 20 million Private Points. As for this little injury? It was worth it.
As he was calculating his next lines, Ayanokouji suddenly spoke: "So this was the plan you and Amasawa Ichika came up with?"
Housen's smile froze on his face.
"The knife in your hand is the one I bought, isn't it?" Ayanokouji's tone was flat. "First, make me buy new kitchenware, then make me cook with that knife, then steal it while I'm away to give to you. You then pick a corner without cameras to meet me and use that knife for self-mutilation. Was that the entire process?"
Housen's eyes widened. "Wh-what are you dreaming about? I have no idea!"
"Pretending not to understand?" Ayanokouji interrupted him.
"Actually, from the moment Amasawa Ichika approached me and deliberately had me buy those obscure kitchen tools, I had a rough guess.
She succeeded in stealing the knife because I intentionally gave her the opportunity."
Housen's face went completely stiff.
"I'll only say three things." Ayanokouji held up a finger.
In his mind, he recalled how Shimizu Akira had spoken so nonchalantly in front of everyone during the deserted island special exam. Since he had the chance, he decided to try it himself.
"First: although I bought this knife, it has no fingerprints of mine from start to finish, nor has it ever cut vegetables. The bowl of Tom Yum Goong Amasawa drank was a ready-made product I bought from the school's Thai restaurant; the delivery record from noon is traceable at any time."
"Second: I checked the purchase records for this knife. You had previously tried to buy the same model, but Amasawa stopped you. This is one of the pieces of evidence of your intent to frame me."
"Third..." He took out his phone and lit up the screen. "From the moment I stepped out of the dormitory, my recording hasn't stopped. From beginning to end, I did nothing. You stabbed yourself and cried for help yourself."
He looked at Housen, whose face was losing all color.
"Do you want me to play it for you?"
The night wind blew between them. Housen stood there blankly, his fingers gripping the knife handle beginning to tremble. The tip of the blade was still dripping blood, but he could no longer care about his injured ankle.
What the hell was this?! Was everything he said true? The soup was store-bought? There were no fingerprints? The recording was on the whole time?
So from the very beginning, he had been waiting for him to jump in?
"You fucking set me up?" His voice trembled, no longer possessing the arrogance of a moment ago.
Ayanokouji didn't answer, simply looking at him calmly.
There was no mockery, no triumph, not even anger in that gaze.
He just looked.
"Since when?" Housen gritted his teeth. "When did you see through it?"
Ayanokouji thought for a moment.
"Probably when she suggested cooking for me."
"That early?"
"People from the White Room don't proactively offer to cook for others." Ayanokouji's tone was level. "What if it's poisoned? Therefore, there must be an ulterior motive."
Housen clenched the knife handle.
"What White Room? I don't know what you're babbling about!" He gnashed his teeth. "Then why did you play along?!"
"Because I wanted to see how far you were willing to go," Ayanokouji said. "And to confirm if she would actually take that step.
It seems she did."
Housen didn't know what to say. He looked down at his bleeding ankle, then at the blood-stained knife. A plan he had painstakingly crafted for so long, with every step rehearsed... how did it...
"Now you have two choices." Ayanokouji's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Housen looked up.
"First: wait for people to arrive, and I hand the recording to the Student Council. Self-mutilation with a weapon, framing a senpai, attempting to disrupt a special exam—any of those is enough to get you expelled."
"Second: leave now and go to the infirmary yourself. Then, starting tomorrow, three things." He held up his fingers.
"One: go to Class 2-B and apologize in front of the whole class, and specifically give a dogeza apology to Shimizu Akira."
"Two: your Class 1-D will cooperate with our class unconditionally, with all pairing choices decided by us."
"Three: pay 5 million Private Points as a cooperation fee."
Housen's eyes bulged. "You... you want me to apologize? And dogeza?! My leg is bleeding right now! And 5 million? Where am I supposed to get that much money!"
"I am not asking you." Ayanokouji's eyes finally changed; it was a calm that was cold to the bone.
"I am commanding you. You can choose option one."
Housen opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound. "...Our class doesn't have that many points," he squeezed out after a long while, his voice stripped of its initial bravado.
"Apply for a loan from the Student Council," Ayanokouji said. "Class D has a corresponding limit. Your class currently has 750 points; with 40 people, your monthly income is 3 million. You can pay it back in two months if you don't eat or drink."
He didn't intend to look at Housen any longer. "Alright. Take your knife and leave."
Housen gritted his teeth, his eyes full of humiliation and hatred.
"Damn it, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, I'll remember you."
The sound of uneven footsteps receded into the night. Ayanokouji stood alone under the streetlight, took out his phone, and dialed another number. It rang twice before being answered.
"Amasawa. Housen Kazuomi's plan has been exposed."
Silence followed for several seconds.
"Senpai... will Housen and I be expelled?"
"No. Housen won't be expelled, and neither will you. To be precise, the reason I didn't have him expelled was to protect you. You are in a partnership with him; if he's expelled, you won't escape either."
Amasawa was stunned.
"Senpai... was it for me?"
"To me, you still have great utility value."
'Utility value.'
She opened her mouth, about to say something...
"Amasawa Ichika." Ayanokouji's voice came through steadily. "If you don't want to be expelled, work hard to become Shimizu Akira's girlfriend."
"What?" Amasawa wondered if something was wrong with her ears.
Wait! Didn't Shimizu-senpai already have girlfriends?!
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