(Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's POV)
The following days unfolded with a sense of tense normalcy. Each Class D study group, mine included, focused on maximizing their scores for the upcoming Paper Shuffle.
Meanwhile, my attention remained fixed on the shifting dynamic between Horikita and Kushida.
Late one night, my phone buzzed with a notification – a text from Kushida. Her message was a flurry of hurried words, detailing a proposition made by Horikita Suzune.
Apparently, Horikita Suzune had proposed a wager. With her brother, the Horikita Manabu, as a witness, they would pit their academic prowess against each other in the math section. The stakes? Horikita's expulsion.
If Kushida scored higher, Horikita Suzune would be forced to leave the school. Conversely, if Horikita Suzune triumphed, Kushida would be obligated to assist Class D in its climb to Class A.
An interesting gamble. Horikita was hedging her bets in her academic intellect.
Kushida was likely tempted by this bet.
My reply was brief – a single word – "Good luck."
It wasn't a vote of confidence in either of them. This was their game, their dance on the precipice. My interest lay in manipulating the outcome to serve my own agenda.
~~
As the month drew to a close and the exam loomed, I decided to test the waters. Just past midnight, I sent a message to Kushida, requesting her presence in my dorm room.
The door creaked open a sliver, revealing Kushida in the pre-dawn darkness. Her usual effervescence was dimmed, replaced by a steely glint in her eyes. She entered without a word, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Are you confident in your victory against Horikita, Kushida?" I inquired, my voice devoid of any warmth.
A curt nod followed. "Absolutely."
A sigh escaped my lips, a hint of theatrical disappointment coloring my tone. "I am disappointed, Kushida. Deeply disappointed."
Confusion flickered across her face. "What do you mean?" she demanded, her voice laced with a hint of apprehension.
"Your reliance on Ryuen's assistance," I stated coolly, "was predictable, transparent even. Horikita anticipated this from the very beginning."
Her eyes widened in shock. "How?" she stammered.
"Simple," I continued. "On the day the exam was announced, Horikita informed Chabashira-sensei to not accept question papers submitted by anyone else other than herself."
The revelation struck her like a physical blow. The color drained from her face, replaced by a growing sense of panic.
"And," I added, a hint of amusement creeping into my voice, "I ensured Ryuen was aware of this little detail."
The truth slammed into her with brutal clarity.
The questions Ryuen provided – the supposed key to her success – were nothing but elaborate fakes. Her confidence, so meticulously constructed, crumbled before her eyes.
"Why?" she whispered, her voice barely a tremor. "Why sabotage my plan?"
"Because, Kushida," I said, my voice a low murmur, "my priority is Class D's advancement. To secure an easy victory against Class C, we needed them scrambling to set new questions at the last minute."
A flicker of understanding replaced the panic. "So that's why you messaged Ryuen the day before the deadline," she muttered.
"Indeed. With limited time, Class C wouldn't be able to craft difficult questions across all eight subjects. Easier questions translate to higher scores for Class D, a guaranteed 100-point gain and a 200-point swing in our favor – 100 points awarded to us, and 100 deducted from Class C."
Silence descended upon the room, thick with the weight of my revelation. The carefully constructed illusion of her victory had crumbled before her eyes. Kushida, the epitome of confidence, was reduced to a pawn caught in my intricate game.
"You… you used me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"A necessary sacrifice," I countered, my expression unchanged. "Besides, you underestimated your opponent. Horikita is far more cunning than you give her credit for."
Kushida stood there, her perfect facade crumbling, the weight of her strategic blunder pressing down on her. She had become a pawn in my intricate game, manipulated to serve the needs of Class D.
In that moment, I saw not the bubbly idol everyone knew, but a girl consumed by a personal vendetta, blinded by her hatred for Horikita.
My words hung heavy in the air. "Focus on the math test, Kushida. With neither of you aware of the questions, the playing field is even. Win, and Horikita faces expulsion. Lose, and it's time to start pulling your weight for Class D."
A low growl rumbled in her throat, but she offered a curt nod, her earlier confidence shattered. The weight of my manipulation had taken hold.
"Any attempt to undermine Class D after this," I continued, my voice flat, "will be met with swift action. Expulsion isn't out of the question."
Her response was a noncommittal nod, her gaze flickering away from mine. The threat hung in the air, a silent reminder of the consequences of betrayal.
As she moved towards the door, a single word escaped her lips. "I'll be back."
"One moment, Kushida," I said, my voice neutral.
She paused, turning back with a questioning look. I gestured for her to approach. She hesitated for a beat before complying, stepping closer.
In a swift, practiced motion, my hand reached beneath her shirt, briefly cupping the soft flesh of her breasts. The sensation was unremarkable, lacking the spark I had experienced with Sakura. A flicker of curiosity crossed my mind – was it the physical intimacy with Sakura, the act itself, that had triggered the arousal?
Well, I knew that I couldn't do that with Kushida right now.
With a firm squeeze of her soft breasts, I released her, the act more a display of dominance than anything else.
With a dismissive gesture, I released her. "You're dismissed, Kushida."
Without a word, she slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with the lingering scent of her perfume and the weight of the intricate game I was orchestrating.
(Third Person's POV)
The Paper Shuffle concluded with a bang. Class D breezed through the exam, securing victory over their target, Class C. Meanwhile, Class A dominated the competition, solidifying their top position.
The point distribution painted a surprising picture:
Class A: 924 (+100) - Maintained Class A status.
Class B: 669 (-100) - Held onto Class B.
Class C: 442 (-100) - Shockingly dropped to Class D.
Class D: 462 (+100) - Aced their way into Class C.
The results were a stark reminder of the school's ruthless meritocratic system. Overnight, fortunes had flipped, leaving some reveling in victory while others grappled with the sting of defeat.
Even Chabashira-sensei, the stoic homeroom teacher of the newly christened Class C, couldn't hide a flicker of satisfaction. Her gamble – the not-so-subtle threat directed at Ayanokoji – seemed to be paying off. Class D had taken its first significant step, clawing its way out of the D-tier and into the C-tier rankings.
Ayanokoji scanned the results. He noted with a detached curiosity the outcome of Horikita's daring gamble with Kushida. Horikita, it seemed, emerged victorious from the math duel, her higher score securing her continued presence in the school. This, however, wasn't the end of the story.
Kushida's face, normally a mask of sunshine and smiles, was etched with a mixture of bitterness and defiance.
Ayanokoji, with his keen eye for unspoken emotions, knew she wouldn't accept this loss easily. The fire of her grudge against Horikita still burned bright.
A sigh escaped his lips. Ensuring Kushida wouldn't sabotage Class C's ascent required a more nuanced approach. He needed to nip this budding rebellion in the bud.
With a plan forming in his mind, he discreetly sent a message to Kushida: "Meet me on the rooftop. Now."
Moments later, Kushida arrived, her steps echoing on the deserted rooftop. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a warm glow on the tense scene. "What do you want, Ayanokoji?" she spat, her voice laced with barely concealed anger.
"Acceptance," Ayanokoji replied, his tone flat and emotionless. "Acceptance of the outcome, of your place in this new dynamic."
Kushida bristled. "That's hardly fair! Horikita only won because you interfered with my deal with Ryuen!" Her voice trembled with indignation. "If you hadn't told him about the different questions…"
Ayanokoji cut her off with a sigh. "Fairness is a relative term, Kushida. You had your plan, I had mine." He paused, his gaze unwavering. "Don't like the outcome? Fine. But if you choose not to accept it, expulsion awaits."
Kushida's eyes narrowed. "Expel me? How?"
"Let's just say," Ayanokoji replied with a hint of amusement, "there are ways. Getting caught cheating, for instance."
Kushida scoffed. "I wouldn't cheat."
Ayanokoji's expression remained unchanged. "Check your upper right jacket pocket," he instructed.
Hesitantly, Kushida reached into her pocket, her fingers brushing against a small, folded piece of paper. Her eyes widened as she pulled it out, the blood draining from her face. It was a cheat sheet, neatly scrawled with answers to most of the math questions.
Terror choked her voice. "This… this isn't mine!"
"Isn't it?" Ayanokoji's voice remained a deadly calm. "This little slip-up could have gotten you expelled, along with your partner."
Kushida slumped against the railing, her bravado shattered.
This wasn't a bluff; she saw the glint of truth in his icy gaze. This cheat sheet was a silent threat. Ayanokoji was letting her know about his secret influence in the class. He was letting her know that he could easily plant these cheats in her jacket without her having the slightest bit of idea about it. This truly sent a chill down her spine.
"That wasn't the only method at my disposal," he continued, his voice devoid of malice but laced with a chilling finality. "And if you continue to hinder Class C's progress, then I won't warn you the next time. Make yourself useful, Kushida-san."
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the rustle of the wind. Kushida understood. Her options were clear – fall in line or face expulsion. The choice, as Ayanokoji had meticulously ensured, was no choice at all.
With a defeated sigh, Kushida nodded slowly. "I… I understand."
Ayanokoji offered a curt nod in return.
He had achieved his objective, ensuring Kushida wouldn't disrupt their plans. With a final, lingering look at the buildings bathed in the twilight glow, he turned and left her alone on the rooftop, the weight of his unspoken warning heavy in the air.