So Hot

Yamauchi Haruki secretly thought it was bad, and was about to step forward to stop him—

"Buzzz—!!!"

A broadcast siren with extremely strong penetration suddenly sounded, like a basin of ice water poured over their heads, instantly freezing the conflict about to erupt on the deck.

A female voice, so calm it was almost inorganic, transmitted clearly through the ship's amplifier system to every corner:

"Notice: All students please pay attention. This ship will dock at our school's affiliated isolated island in 30 minutes. All students must change into the designated tracksuits before this time, and after carefully confirming their carried items list, gather on the deck with only the designated backpacks, luggage, and mobile phones. Please reconfirm before landing! All other personal belongings must be left in your respective rooms. Special reminder: The preparation time before landing is limited. Restrooms can still be used normally during this period, and students are advised to take care of personal needs in advance."

The broadcast content was clear and concise, but the tone was businesslike, devoid of any emotional color. However, "isolated island," "change into tracksuits," "only carry designated backpacks, luggage, and mobile phones," "confirm items list," "all other items left in rooms"... this series of unusual requests, like several steel needles flashing with cold light, precisely pierced the anger that had just permeated the deck, the brief satisfaction of Yamauchi's counterattack, and the surging violent impulses of the Class B students.

The hedgehog-haired boy spat fiercely, glaring at Yamauchi with vicious eyes: "Tch, lucky for you, you piece of trash!" Forced to stop by the broadcast, he and his companions could only suppress their almost explosive shame and anger, and reluctantly turned to leave to find a place to change.

But the resentment, exposed in public and with nowhere to vent, was still clearly etched on their retreating backs.

The chaos on the deck temporarily subsided, but the atmosphere had taken a sharp turn.

The Class D students' faces were a mixture of complex emotions: anger and unwillingness at Class B's naked bullying, a sense of urgency from the broadcast's content, and strong unease and suspicion about the meaning behind keywords like "prohibited personal items," "mandatory regulations," and "isolated island"—was this really just a vacation?

"What the hell..." Ike Kanji broke the silence, muttering in a low voice, "They won't even let us bring personal belongings? Didn't they say it was a vacation? And we have to change into tracksuits... what are they planning?"

Yamauchi Haruki took a deep breath, suppressing the doubts in his heart, and stepped forward to stabilize morale, his voice striving to maintain calmness and encouragement: "Alright, everyone, time is tight! Act immediately according to the broadcast's requirements! Whatever lies ahead, Class D will face it together! Go change your clothes first and prepare to gather!" The Class D students quickly dispersed with their chaotic thoughts.

Class B's provocation was no longer the focus; instead, the broadcast directive cast a huge shadow over the way they would live for the next few days, pressing down heavily on everyone's hearts.

Yamauchi rubbed his aching shoulder, his gaze sweeping over the direction Class B had left, then towards the serene yet inexplicably oppressive island.

The brief satisfaction from the verbal sparring had long since vanished, leaving only a growing unease about the upcoming island vacation life.

He gritted his teeth, stopped thinking, and like everyone else, quickly walked towards his cabin.

When the lush green outline of the island finally filled the porthole, the unique salty-sweet scent of the sea mixed with the increasingly scorching sunlight rushed towards them, the excitement of the first-year students on deck was completely ignited and pushed to its climax.

Swaying coconut trees, white sandy beaches, clear blue waves—the scene of a vacation paradise was within reach, instantly dispelling the annoyance of the broadcast rules and the unpleasantness of the conflict with Class B.

However, the prelude to landing on the island once again coldly announced the strict hierarchical system of the academy.

"Landing order: Class A students first, in order! Reiterating discipline: Mobile phones are strictly prohibited from being brought onto the island! All students please immediately hand over your mobile phones to your class advisor! Then follow instructions and disembark in an orderly manner!" The teacher holding the megaphone's voice was cold and formulaic, without any of the relaxation expected on a holiday.

Urged on by the strict instructions, the students filed down the giant suspension ladder connecting the cruise ship to the pier.

Led by Ichinose, the Class A students, in perfect order, were the first to step onto the pier.

Class B followed closely behind, and the arrogant hedgehog-haired boy in the group didn't forget to provocatively lift his chin into Class D's view.

Class C moved slowly under Ryuen's nonchalant demeanor.

Class D, without a doubt, was arranged at the very end of the line.

This deliberate sorting was like a silent shackle, heavily proclaiming the absolute weight of "survival of the fittest."

The scorching sun poured down heat mercilessly, and the steam rising in the air was sticky and heavy.

Sweat quickly soaked the thin fabric of the tracksuits.

"Hot... I'm going to die of heat! Can you guys walk faster up ahead!" Ike Kanji couldn't help but wail, futilely tugging at the collar clinging to his neck.

"Even with such thin material, if we keep standing like this, we'll be dehydrated..." Shinohara Sae's cheeks were flushed as she fanned herself in vain.

Yamauchi Haruki paced back and forth even more irritably: "This damn weather!"

The speed at which the line moved was suffocatingly slow.

It turned out that at the end of the pier, in addition to the teachers responsible for registering names, several faculty members were meticulously checking each student about to land, one by one—not only confiscating mobile phones but also repeatedly verifying the single designated small backpack each person was allowed to carry, ensuring no private items were hidden.

The meticulousness was comparable to customs security checks.

This bizarre level of control set off alarm bells in the hearts of more and more vigilant students: this trip was by no means a simple vacation!

At the very end of the line, Hoshino Kanade also endured the scorching heat, sweat sliding down his clear jawline.

His gaze swept over the long queue ahead, unconsciously landing on Kiyona's face beside him.

Her fair cheeks were also tinged with a light blush, and a few strands of hair were damp with sweat, sticking to her delicate ear.

However, her expression remained cool, as if the high temperature couldn't melt her inherent composure.

As if by a ghostly mandate, hidden by the sleeves of his loose tracksuit, Hoshino Kanade's hand naturally dropped, approaching Kiyona's side.

Then, with an unquestionable familiarity, his slightly warm fingertips very lightly touched the back of Kiyona's hand hanging by her side.

Kiyona's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and she subconsciously turned her head to look at him.

Her palm was cool and smooth, like fine unpolished jade, forming a stark contrast with Hoshino Kanade's warm fingertips.

The maiden's cool gaze fell on his face with a silent question.

"Hot," Hoshino Kanade explained in a low voice, his tone as calm as stating a fact.

His gaze remained on the slowly moving queue ahead, as if this act of holding hands was the most ordinary thing.

But his fingers quietly gathered, enveloping her entire cool hand in his warm palm.

The coolness instantly flowed from his fingertips throughout his body, strangely relieving the heat within.

The heat in his palm made Kiyona frown slightly. She almost immediately retorted in a low voice, her tone carrying a barely perceptible fluctuation: "...Holding it will only make it hotter." It sounded like stating a physical fact, or like a reminder that the action was out of the ordinary.

However, she did not pull away.

The hand being held remained quietly and obediently in his palm, and even after the initial stiffness, her fingertips slightly, imperceptibly curled, fitting more closely against his knuckles.