Chapter 33: Ayanokouji, Are You Even Trying? How Could You Lose to Ryuen?!
The scene fell into a momentary silence.
Shiraishi Asuka felt the eyes of those around her, but her expression didn't change; her eyes remained as calm as ever.
"Ayanokouji-kun demonstrated his strength on the cruise ship," Shiraishi Asuka's voice was steady. "His physical ability, reaction speed, and judgment are not at a level a regular student can reach. Yet, in today's 100-meter dash, he only took fourth place."
"In other words, he's hiding his strength," Kamuro said.
"Correct," Shiraishi Asuka nodded. "The fact that he's hiding his strength means he doesn't want to expose himself in the mandatory events. So where will he reveal it? The recommended events. The recommended events allow for contestant substitutions using points; he can use this mechanism to step onto the field at a critical moment and farm points."
Katsuragi's brow furrowed. "You mean... he's going to explode in the recommended events?"
"It's not just an explosion," Shiraishi said. "He will become the savior of Class D. Class D is currently fractured; Hirata is too soft, and Horikita is too rigid—no one can command the whole group. With the participation list leaked, and both Koenji and Sudo being targeted, Class D is falling into a predicament. But if someone steps up at Class D's darkest hour, turns the tide, and leads everyone to victory—everyone will be grateful to him and follow him. He doesn't need to fight or struggle; he just needs to do. After all, Class D doesn't want their living expenses cut. They will support whoever gets them points."
After Shiraishi Asuka finished speaking, the tent remained silent for a few seconds.
Katsuragi looked at Shiraishi, suddenly feeling that this girl, who usually didn't speak much, was much deeper than he had imagined. She actually had a mind for counter-strategies.
Sakayanagi Arisu, however, remained quite composed. After all, Shiraishi was the person the White Room had arranged to monitor Ayanokouji, while Hikigaya-kun's conclusions were still just deductions.
But now, Sakayanagi could confirm that this Shiraishi Asuka was indeed the "Yuki" from the same White Room generation as Ayanokouji—the one who "withdrew because training at age 8 triggered early menstruation." Since she was a contemporary and was only discarded due to physiological factors, she naturally possessed a corresponding level of ability.
Thus, it was only right that she could analyze Ayanokouji's true intentions.
"Ayanokouji is waiting for an opportunity," Sakayanagi picked up the thread. "He's waiting for Class D to be beaten badly enough, waiting for everyone to fall into despair, and then he will stand up. At that moment, he will be a hero."
Katsuragi's hand tightened on his knee.
"So—he leaked the participation list not just to attack Horikita," Katsuragi's voice was a bit raspy. "He's paving the way for himself."
Sakayanagi didn't say a word.
The tent grew quiet. In the distance, the results being announced over the PA system mixed with the cheers from the stands, echoing through the air. Katsuragi sat in his folding chair, head down, staring at his hands. They had stopped trembling.
"First group, Men's 110-meter hurdles, prepare—"
Another command came over the broadcast. Katsuragi looked up, his gaze landing on the field. The first group of contestants was walking toward the starting line. He saw Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, wearing the same red tracksuit as everyone else, expressionless, his pace neither fast nor slow.
"Katsuragi-kun," Shiraishi Asuka's voice came from the side.
Katsuragi looked at her.
"In the first group, there's Ryuen."
Katsuragi's gaze shifted to that lane. Ryuen Kakeru stood in Lane 4, flexing his wrists with that arrogant, wild smile on his face. Ayanokouji was in the outermost lane, looking down as he tied his shoelaces.
"In this group, Ryuen will be first," Shiraishi said. "Ayanokouji won't."
Katsuragi looked at her. "How do you know?"
Shiraishi didn't speak. She just quietly watched that direction, watching Ayanokouji finish tying his laces, straighten up, and stand at the starting line.
Bang!
The starting gun fired.
Ryuen burst forward. His start was fast, his stride frequency high, and every step hit the ground with a heavy thud. He shook off the second-place runner at the first curve, and his lead became increasingly obvious. Ayanokouji was running in fourth. Neither hurried nor frantic. His form was standard and fluid, but he just wasn't fast.
At the finish line, Ryuen crossed first, leading second place by a significant margin. He straightened up, looked back at the track, and the smile on his face deepened. Ayanokouji crossed fourth. Not bad, but not good either.
As Ryuen walked off the track and passed by Ayanokouji, he paused for a moment. "You're pretty good at fighting, but your stamina is still lacking."
Ayanokouji looked at him and said nothing.
Ryuen sneered and kept walking. Ayanokouji withdrew his gaze and headed toward Class D's tent.
Back in Class B's tent, Shiraishi Asuka looked away.
"Like I said," she whispered, "he's hiding his strength. This confirms it; hiding it now is for the sake of fighting in the recommended events later."
"..." Katsuragi was speechless.
Because Shiraishi was right, and if she was right, it meant that Ayanokouji was indeed one of the terrifying opponents that needed to be taken seriously.
For Class B... the road ahead was going to be arduous. Katsuragi felt the pressure.
.
,
,
On the other side, after completing his hurdles event, Ryuen decisively returned to his home base.
As Ryuen Kakeru walked into the Class C tent, Albert handed him a towel. It was white and folded neatly. Albert's hands were so large that the towel looked tiny in them. Ryuen glanced at him but didn't take it. His breathing hadn't fully settled yet, his chest heaving slightly, but there was almost no sweat on his forehead. He had run that heat easily—not because the opponents were too weak, but because he was too strong. In the entire first year, there were no more than seven people who could beat him in a 100-meter dash. And none of them were in his group.
Seeing he wouldn't take it, Albert didn't say much and took the towel back.
Ryuen's gaze swept across the tent. The Class C students were busy with their own tasks. Some were drinking water, some were stretching, and some were huddled together looking at the real-time scoring data. The atmosphere wasn't exactly jubilant, but it wasn't somber either. After all, Class C had secured a decent amount of points in these opening groups. Ryuen's gaze finally landed on the very back of the tent.
Shiina Hiyori was sitting there. Her long silver hair was draped over her shoulders, and she held a book—War and Peace. She wasn't actually reading; the book was open to a certain page with her finger marking the spot, her eyes fixed on the page, but she hadn't moved for a long time.
Ryuen walked over and sat across from her.
"Shiina," Ryuen began. "I went to see Hikigaya."
Hiyori's eyebrows twitched slightly, but she didn't speak.
"He warned me that I might not necessarily win," Ryuen's mouth curled slightly. "But he also gave me a tacit understanding—he won't actively report us."
Hiyori's eyelashes fluttered. She closed the book, placed it on her lap, and rested her hands on the cover.
"So," Hiyori's voice was very soft, "he's giving you tacit permission to act."
"Yeah."
Hiyori looked down at her fingers on the book. Her fingertips lightly brushed the edge of the cover.
She thought back to last semester. During the VIP exam, Hachiman had used his "inner voice" to trick them into believing there was a pattern to the VIPs. If it hadn't been for a stroke of luck, Class C would have followed in the footsteps of Katsuragi's class. She also thought of the behavior standards exam—he had initiated contact, and Class C ended up with zero points. Every time, it was like this. He gives you a path that you think you chose yourself, but in reality, he paved it for you.
Thinking of this, Hiyori whispered, "Once again, we're being led by the nose by Hikigaya-kun."
Ryuen's brow furrowed, but it quickly relaxed.
"I know." His tone was flat, as if speaking of something he'd known all along. "But I was going to attack Ayanokouji anyway. And since doing so means he won't intervene, it's not like we've gained nothing."
Hiyori's lashes fluttered again. She looked up at Ryuen.
"By crushing Class D," Ryuen continued, "we strike at Class B. Class D is on the White Team; the lower Class D's score, the lower the White Team's total score. If the White Team is low, the Red Team wins. Naturally, that's good for us, and it also crushes Class B's morale."
Hiyori was silent for a few seconds.
"So," she weighed her words, "Hikigaya-kun letting you act isn't because he wants to help you. It's because he wants the Red Team to win."
"Correct."
"And you, knowing full well he's utilizing you, will still act," Hiyori added.
"..." Ryuen.
Sometimes Ryuen felt that Shiina's solitary nature and lack of friends was part of her personality, but right now, he felt she lacked a bit of tact. She was being far too direct.
"Something like that, though there's a difference because I intended to act anyway," Ryuen continued. "He uses me, and I use him. He wants me to hit Class D, so I hit them. I was going to do it regardless. He lets Class A cooperate with Class C to get points, so I take them. I was going to take them regardless. He wins his way, I win mine. And the fact that he doesn't interfere is an advantage."
Hiyori looked at him, suddenly at a loss for words.
Ryuen Kakeru was never a fool. He knew Hikigaya was using him; he knew he was just a piece on this board. But he didn't care. Because he knew he was also a player. Hikigaya makes his move, and Ryuen makes his. Two paths that occasionally cross but lead in different directions. But Ryuen knew this was an opportunity, and he wanted to fight for it.
"Ryuen-kun."
"Yeah?"
"Your target has always been Class B, hasn't it?"
Ryuen didn't speak, but his silence was the answer.
Hiyori's mind worked quickly. Hikigaya wants Ryuen to hit Class D so the Red Team wins. Ryuen hits Class D to strike Class B. Since Class D and Class B are on the same team, a low score for Class D drags down Class B's total. If Class B's year-ranking points aren't high enough, Class C has a chance to overtake them.
"You want to change classes in this exam," Hiyori said.
Ryuen's mouth curled. "Why else? You think I came to the Sports Festival to play games?"
Hiyori was silent for a few seconds. She looked at Ryuen's confident face, but the image that appeared in her mind was Hachiman's face. Hiyori sighed softly.
"What is it?" Ryuen asked.
"Nothing." Hiyori shook her head. "I just feel... Hikigaya-kun is truly terrifying. He's mapped out everyone's path. You hit Class D to move up. He lets you hit Class D so the Red Team wins. And the A-C cooperation lets our Class C get more points while reducing what Class B can get. Since Class B's overall strength is the highest, this suppresses them from taking first in the year. In short, you each get what you need, but in the end, he is the one who wins."
Ryuen looked at her and said nothing. He was already well-acquainted with the fact that Hikigaya was a cunning old fox; it would be weirder if Hikigaya didn't think that way. He was used to it.
"Ryuen-kun," Hiyori's voice was very light, "do you really think we can win this time?"
Ryuen was silent for two seconds.
"I don't know," he said. "But I know that if I don't fight, there's no chance at all."
There was no hesitation in Ryuen's eyes, no backing down. Only a fire that had never changed—the desire to climb to the top.
"I understand," Hiyori whispered.
She picked up War and Peace and opened it to the page with the bookmark. On that page was a passage she had read many times. She wasn't actually reading; she just held the book up to hide her face.
She had previously caught a vague hint from Hachiman that Class C moving up to Class A might be an impossible option—and even if they moved up, it might only be a temporary "tourist" opportunity for a month or two.
But... she couldn't bring herself to say such discouraging words to a classmate who was working so hard to climb.
But... where was the future of Class C headed?
.
.
.
At the same time, in the Class D tent.
The Men's 100-meter dash had concluded, and Ayanokouji had just finished his 110-meter hurdles race. The atmosphere in the Class D tent wasn't great.
Sudo Ken was leaning against a tent pole, arms crossed, his brows knit into a knot. He wasn't angry at himself—after all, he had taken first place twice, earning 30 points for Class D, the best score in the class. He was angry at someone else.
"Ayanokouji, you're really pathetic. How could you lose to Ryuen?!"
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka was standing nearby drinking water. He took small sips from the bottle, moving slowly. Hearing this, his hand paused slightly, but he didn't stop. He finished the last sip, screwed the cap on, set the bottle aside, and looked at Sudo.
"Not everyone is you, Sudo," Ayanokouji's voice was flat. "You're a sports genius."
Sudo's brow relaxed. He stared at Ayanokouji for two seconds, confirming it wasn't sarcasm, and then his mouth slowly curled up.
"That's true." Sudo's tone carried a hint of pride. "Athletic talent is something you're born with. You can't just train for it."
Ayanokouji nodded and said nothing. Sudo looked away and back toward the field. His gaze swept the track and landed on a white figure: Koenji Rokusuke. He was sitting on the grass by the track with his legs crossed, holding a small mirror to check his hairstyle. The wind had tousled his hair; he frowned and used his fingers to smooth each strand back into place.
"That guy," Sudo's voice was full of obvious dissatisfaction, "having that much strength and not showing it is such a waste."
Ayanokouji looked in Koenji's direction.
'Having strength and not using it is foolish.'
He was very familiar with that phrase. His father, Ayanokouji Atsuomi, had said it to him when he was very young. In the White Room, that phrase was carved into the walls, repeated by instructors, and heard by him over and over again. It wasn't "learn to use your strength," but "not using strength is foolish." No room for negotiation, no exceptions.
But Koenji was not from the White Room. He didn't need to follow anyone's rules. If he didn't want to run, he didn't; if he didn't want to win, he didn't. His strength was only used when he wanted to use it.
Ayanokouji withdrew his gaze and looked down. The expression on Koenji's face when he forfeited came to mind. That smile was one of indifference. He truly didn't care. Not about the competition, not about points, not about the class. But was that really true?
Ayanokouji's mind began to spin rapidly. He had noticed a few things during his observations over the break. During the Monkey Group exam, Koenji had ended the exam early and received a reward of one million points. But he had stated in the class chat that he would give the other three members of the Monkey Group a total of 1.5 million points as compensation: Miyake Akito, Sato Maya, and Wang Mei-Yu. Three people, 500,000 each. He didn't have to do that. He could have ignored them and walked away with his money. But he didn't. He gave compensation.
Why?
A name flashed through Ayanokouji's mind—Wang Mei-Yu.
The girl in Class D who was always inconspicuous, soft-spoken, and close to Kushida Kikyo. He wasn't sure what the connection was between Koenji and her, but through repeated observation and testing, he had found a pattern. When Koenji was in the classroom, his gaze would occasionally land on Wang Mei-Yu. Not deliberately, but casually—almost instinctively. Every time Wang Mei-Yu was called on to answer a question, Koenji would look up. Every time Wang Mei-Yu spoke to someone, Koenji would look over. Every time Wang Mei-Yu sat in a corner alone reading, Koenji would walk past her.
It wasn't a coincidence. Ayanokouji had studied behavioral psychology in the White Room. Koenji Rokusuke, the man who didn't care about anything, cared about Wang Mei-Yu.
Ayanokouji pulled back his thoughts. He could gamble on this. If his judgment was correct, then in the upcoming recommended events, as long as Wang Mei-Yu took the field, Koenji would definitely follow. As long as Koenji was on the field, Class D gained a monster-level combatant. And his own plan could proceed more smoothly.
"Ayanokouji." Sudo's voice came from the side.
Ayanokouji looked at him.
"What are you thinking about? You look so serious." Sudo frowned, staring at him.
Ayanokouji remained expressionless.
"Nothing. Just thinking about the recommended events."
Sudo gave an "oh" and didn't ask further.
Ayanokouji looked away. His eyes fell on the field, but he wasn't looking at anyone. Those thoughts were still spinning in his mind. Defeat Horikita, strip away her voice, and leave her with no place in Class D. Then, in Class D's darkest hour, he would step up. Not by fighting or grabbing, but by having others beg him to lead. At that moment, everyone would listen to him. Hirata would support him, Sudo would follow him, and the wavering students would lean toward him.
That was his plan.
Ayanokouji's gaze moved from the field to Sudo. Sudo was flexing his wrists, preparing for the next event. His stamina was excellent; the Sports Festival was his home turf. He probably felt he could get a lot of points in today's competition and do a lot for Class D. But he didn't know that Class D's participation list had been leaked. Ryuen would target his weaknesses. He could take second in the 100-meter dash, but in the upcoming events, he would be targeted, suppressed, and beaten into the ground.
Ayanokouji looked down.
'Sacrifice.'
He suddenly whispered the word in his mind.
Sudo Ken was his sacrifice in this exam. Not because he hated Sudo, but because Sudo was useful. His sacrifice would plunge Class D into a deeper crisis, make everyone more desperate, and make Ayanokouji's own debut more impactful. That was all.
"Ayanokouji." Sudo's voice rang out again.
Ayanokouji looked up.
"Next up is the Men's 200-meter." Sudo rolled his shoulders.
"Do your best." Sudo's tone was casual. "Don't get fourth again. Though, I'm taking first!"
Ayanokouji nodded and didn't speak.
In the distance, Koenji was still sitting on the grass fixing his hair in the mirror. Ayanokouji glanced at him—not at him, but at the person behind him.
Wang Mei-Yu.
She was talking to Kushida, holding a water bottle with a gentle smile on her face. She looked no different from usual, completely unaware that someone was planning to use her.
Ayanokouji withdrew his gaze.
Sudo was still flexing his wrists, completely unaware that he had been pushed onto the altar. Ayanokouji watched him—watched this person who didn't even know what his fate would be, just preparing at his own pace, waiting for the next race to come.
Ayanokouji closed his eyes and opened them again.
There was no emotional fluctuation.
He just felt that everything was still going according to plan.
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