“I don’t care what you think of me. But I can’t let my dream of making it to Class A end here,” said Kanzaki.
Even though students from other classes would be appalled or infuriated by his begging, Kanzaki persisted. He was fully aware of the fact that this was an absurd request. But Kanzaki was so burdened by the situation in his class that he couldn’t back down, even if it meant he had to suffer shame upon shame.
“You have certainly conveyed your determination, at least. Normally, you wouldn’t want to bow down like this and earnestly ask for help, I suppose. But I have no intention of negotiating,” said Horikita.
Even Horikita could guess just how much courage it would take for him to do something like this. It was a heartbreaking plea. While anger was Horikita’s first reaction, she couldn’t help but feel a small measure of pity for him. However, it didn’t mean that she would hesitate, compromise, or be lenient for his sake. No, it was more accurate to say that she could not.
“This is unpleasant. I don’t like having to refuse a request, no matter what it is,” said Horikita.
“I understand that this offends you…” said Kanzaki.
Kanzaki kept his head down, staying bowed, not budging an inch. He was trying to bring about reform, and he had just begun the act of gathering the students who weren’t merely adoring fans of Ichinose. Even so, it would take time for his plans to blossom. If he suffered a major defeat before those plans could take root, then such reform would no longer even have any meaning. Kanzaki thought that as long as Ayanokouji didn’t make any moves in the End-of-Year Special Exam, then he could still do something. However, Ayanokouji was going to be participating as the general today.
“Please!”
Kanzaki’s voice was strained as he wrung the word out of his throat. No matter how many times Kanzaki begged, there was no feasible way that any of his appeals or proposals would sway Horikita. He should have known that from the very beginning. Now, even though Kanzaki knew, he had no other choice but to ask, so he kept making his request.
“I will not hold anything back. I recognize your abilities, Kanzaki-kun, as well as Ichinose-san’s. But right now, my role is to fight with all my might, no matter who my opponent is,” replied Horikita.
No one liked the idea of bowing down before someone else. Nevertheless, Horikita showed the utmost consideration for Kanzaki, who was bowing down for the sake of his class—that is, she would fight with all of her might and earn the results to show for it.
“I see…” replied Kanzaki.
There was very little time left in the interval when Kanzaki returned to his chair, his head still hanging low. Soon afterward, the monitors came on, and a new discussion was about to begin. Horikita looked away from Kanzaki and turned her attention back to the screen. She couldn’t keep her attention focused solely on Kanzaki any longer. What she needed to do now was discern what roles the participants had based on the conversations that were about to unfold on the other end of the monitor.
A new discussion was beginning. Kanzaki’s face was turned toward the monitor, but while his eyes were pointed at the screen, he was only looking and not properly watching. At the end of the round, Horikita chose to pass. Kanzaki, with slow, unhurried motions, also chose to pass. Even though the discussion had begun again, Kanzaki wasn’t engaging with it seriously after all. It seemed like he was simply waiting to lose.
“Have you given up?” asked Horikita, her voice cutting through the monitor’s audio.
“No matter what I accomplish here, I’ve already seen what the outcome will be,” said Kanzaki.
Which meant that from the outset, Kanzaki had abandoned the idea of fighting seriously. He realized that even if, hypothetically, he did defeat Horikita as the opposing center, he would have merely replaced Horikita with Ayanokouji as the person with whom he would have to negotiate. Horikita, having lost her patience with this cowardly behavior, rose from her seat during the ongoing discussion and went over to stand in front of him.
“You were chosen to be a representative of your class, weren’t you? Then you ought to face this special exam with some backbone, with the determination to defeat me and Ayanokouji-kun yourself. That is the basic courtesy you should be giving to your classmates,” snapped Horikita.
“You’re the one acting strangely here. Don’t bother throwing me a rope, or anything of the sort. You can just leave me alone,” said Kanzaki.
“I suppose so. You’re right,” said Horikita.
The match was decided. From the start, the discussion and nomination rounds proceeded dispassionately, without any sense of tension. Kanzaki, having already given up, continued to pass, not making any nominations. Horikita persuaded herself not to feel sorry for him, and warily decided to make a second nomination.
“Horikita-san identified Mine-kun as the model student, so Kanzaki-kun loses three Life Points. Now that Kanzaki-kun’s Life Points have been depleted, we ask that he please leave the room at this time.”
Even after the announcement of the results, Kanzaki remained still. It looked as though he didn’t even hear the announcement.
“Kanzaki-kun.”
Horikita called his name. After a slight pause, Kanzaki’s eyes suddenly focused, and he looked at Horikita.
“Ah, I see. I’ve lost now, I suppose,” Kanzaki muttered, as though he were speaking about someone else, and then pushed back his chair and stood up.
Horikita wondered whether she should try to talk to Kanzaki some more as he walked away, but she decided against it. A winner and a loser. At the very least, now that their match had been decided, any words spoken by Horikita here and now likely wouldn’t have any positive effect on Kanzaki. Up until this point, Horikita had been focused solely on the thought of winning along with her class, but for every winner, there was a loser. Alone in the representative’s room, Horikita stared at the unoccupied participant’s room displayed on the monitor.
“I am going to move up to Class A. I will fight for that goal, but…”
For Horikita, the idea of graduating from Class A held great significance. Not for the sake of her future, but rather, for the sake of recognition from her older brother. She wanted to be praised for leading the way from Class D to Class A—that was her biggest driving force.
But what about Kanzaki? Was it so that he could have the options of a better university or workplace? Or was it because he wanted to give those benefits to his fellow classmates? Horikita, who had little connection to Kanzaki, couldn’t understand the true meaning of the loser’s desires for wanting to reach Class A. However, one thing she was certain of was that he, too, had a strong purpose, the same as her. This thought remained on her mind until her next opponent, Ichinose, appeared.
7.1
MEANWHILE, KATSURAGI and Sakayanagi were facing off. The discussion had proceeded slowly and leisurely, and the first round ended without incident. Katsuragi had watched both classes very attentively but was unable to suss out any decisive information.
“It seems as though everyone is giving rather true-to-life performances as they engage in the discussion. It’s rather difficult for either of us to narrow down the roles based on the current situation, wouldn’t you say?” said Sakayanagi.
“Perhaps,” replied Katsuragi.
Sakayanagi’s statement, which made it sound like she had given up on getting anything from this round herself, would typically have come as a relief. Normally, one might think, “Thank goodness, she hasn’t gotten anything yet either.” However, Katsuragi’s opponent was none other than Sakayanagi. It wouldn’t be easy for him to discern truth and lies. As Katsuragi held that thought, he dismissed his feelings of relief.
“If you’re thinking of trying to act all innocent with me, I suggest you stop,” said Katsuragi.
“I see. So you have it in your head that I have already ascertained what the roles are,” said Sakayanagi.
“You and I may be in different positions, but if you’re not careful, you may find the rug pulled out from under you,” warned Katsuragi.
“If that is what you think, then surely it is unnecessary for you to offer me advice, no?” replied Sakayanagi.
Katsuragi was trying to probe Sakayanagi and draw out clues about what she was going to do, but that wasn’t going to be an easy task. He decided to take a step back, judging that it would be dangerous to carelessly set foot in his opponent’s ring. Katsuragi still had plenty of Life Points left, and it wasn’t too late for him to see what approach Sakayanagi would take.
“Unfortunately, there were too few clues to be gained in the current round. I will allow you to make the first move,” said Katsuragi, taking a conservative approach and pulling back.
“That is rather like you, isn’t it? If you judge something to be difficult, you carry on with an emphasis on safety. You wish to defeat me by your own hand but with the advantage of your experience in having fought two opponents already. So you are trying to shift your focus to shaving down my points in a sound and measured fashion, rather than trying to aim for a bombastic victory, prepared to risk self-destruction,” said Sakayanagi.
“That is standard practice for me. Eagerness can lead to carelessness,” replied Katsuragi.
“That is truly splendid. So you are saying that you feel no sense of eagerness in going against me whatsoever,” said Sakayanagi.