The Lair

The next morning, a damp mist mingled with crisp birdsong permeated the forest. Class D's camp gradually stirred, tension over the unknown surging through the air. Horikita Suzune found Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, her tone decisive: "We need information. Come with me to scout Class A and Class C's bases, try to confirm their leaders." Her goal was clear and direct.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka nodded silently in agreement. Understanding potential opponents was the foundation of survival.

Just then, Kazama In and Koenji Rokusuke approached. Kazama In's gaze swept over the two, his voice calm and flat: "Mind if we join?" As Class D's ostensible leader, grasping the overall situation was his duty, but deeper still lay assessing Class A's Sakayanagi's safety and the chaos Class C's Ryuen might stir—chaos that could also serve as cover for the assassins.

Koenji Rokusuke elegantly swept back his dazzling golden bangs, his smile like sunlight piercing the fog: "Oh-ho-ho! Exploring a fortress of strict order and a nest where chaos breeds? Such a dramatically contrasting aesthetic is the perfect material for my pursuit of ultimate beauty! How could I miss it?" He gladly joined.

Thus, a four-person team consisting of Kazama In (leader), Koenji Rokusuke, Horikita Suzune, and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka quietly left camp and delved deep into the dense forest.

Class A's base—a cave with its back against a cliff wall, its narrow entrance dry and solid—looked even more impregnable in the morning light. Outside the cave mouth, the embers of a campfire still smoldered. Two male students in Class A uniforms stood like spears, their eyes sharp as hawks, vigilantly scanning their surroundings.

As the four approached, still twenty meters from the cave entrance, one guard stepped forward, his right hand hovering near the alarm whistle at his waist, his voice cold as ice: "Stop! This is Class A territory. No approach! Leave immediately!" His tone was harsh, leaving no room for negotiation.

Horikita Suzune frowned, displeased by this almost arrogant expulsion, but she tried to negotiate: "We're representatives from Class D, here only for necessary communication, to understand each class's..."

"Communication?" The guard cut her off, a sarcastic curl to his lips. "Under the rules, everyone is an opponent. Reconnaissance is reconnaissance! Final warning: retreat!" The other guard also stepped forward, forming a deterrent stance, and the atmosphere instantly tensed.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's face was expressionless, but his eyes swept like precision scanners over the guards' stances, the cave's terrain, and the faint light and aura seeping from within. He detected a steady, heavy presence deeper inside (Katsuragi). The defensive strategy was tough and direct, fitting Katsuragi's style, but the presence of that aura within... couldn't be ignored.

Kazama In stood at the front, his ink-black eyes calmly meeting the guard's icy glare. That gaze, deep as a cold pool, made the guard instinctively tense his nerves. Without a word, he merely raised his hand slightly, a simple gesture halting Horikita's futile negotiation. Class A's refusal was like a wall of ice, seamless and unyielding.

Koenji Rokusuke, meanwhile, observed the scene with keen interest, as if appraising a cold, sharp sculpture: "Oh? Such tight defense, like an ice-crystal palace that keeps everyone at a distance, radiating the beauty of order and strength. A pity... it lacks the rhythm of life, too rigid." His slightly regretful assessment only darkened the guard's expression further.

"Let's go." Kazama In turned decisively. Horikita snorted coldly, unwilling but knowing persistence was pointless, and followed with a frosty face. Ayanokoji cast one last glance into the cave's depths before silently turning. Koenji shrugged elegantly, as if he'd merely visited a uniquely styled art gallery.

Leaving Class A's fortress of frost, the four turned toward Class C's base. The air itself seemed to grow heavy with a stifling and restless energy. Class C had chosen a low-lying clearing near the swamp's edge. The camp was chaotic, tents pitched haphazardly, leftover fruit pits and debris scattered around the campfire, where a few boys were loudly carousing with no semblance of vigilance.

Before they even got close, they heard harsh laughter and crude curses. Ryuen Kakeru's figure appeared at the camp's edge, leaning against a tree, hands in his pockets, wearing that trademark malicious grin. Ishizaki Daichi and Albert stood behind him like twin guardian deities.

"Oh? If it isn't Class D's 'elites'?" Ryuen's voice drawled, dripping with sarcasm. "What? Can't stand your own nest, so you come sniffing around for shit?" Ishizaki and the others joined in with jeering laughter.

Horikita Suzune's eyes flickered with disgust, but she tried to stay calm: "Ryuen, we're here for necessary communication..."

"Communication?" Ryuen cut her off dramatically, straightening up and stepping closer, his gaze slithering like a viper over the four, finally settling on Kazama In. "What's there to communicate with you trash? Or..." His grin widened, "are you here to lick my boots and beg me to go easy on you?"

The atmosphere plummeted to freezing. Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's face was blank, but his body was in a state of subtle relaxation, ready for any sudden moves. Koenji Rokusuke frowned slightly, as if seeing something filthy, and elegantly covered his nose with a silk handkerchief.

Just then, Kazama In's gaze passed over Ryuen and the restless Class C students behind him, landing on a lone, large tree near the swamp's edge at the camp's periphery. There, Shiina Hiyori sat quietly on a relatively clean stone, a book spread open on her lap. She kept her head slightly lowered, her tea-colored hair falling to partially obscure her profile, as if the crude noise and murky air around her had nothing to do with her. Sunlight struggled through the sparse branches above, casting dappled shadows on her. That focused tranquility formed a stark, jarring contrast with the chaos of Class C's camp.

Kazama In's gaze paused slightly. He recognized the book's cover—the latest volume of Love Song of Green Seasons. A clear memory surfaced: in the quietest corner of the school library, he'd deliberately picked up this much-discussed romance novel to understand his peers' baffling "emotional" logic. Just as he was trying to find some "behavioral pattern" in its delicate psychological descriptions and emotional entanglements, a voice soft as a feather sounded beside him: "You like Green Seasons too?" Looking up, he saw Shiina Hiyori holding the same volume. They'd had a brief but surprisingly engaging rational discussion about a certain plot metaphor, the plausibility of character motivations, and even the very meaning of "love" as an irrational emotion. Kazama In was unexpectedly impressed to find that this seemingly quiet girl possessed such sharp, clear thinking, with a nearly cold analytical perspective similar to his own. It was a rare resonance of pure intellect in the noisy school. After that, when they happened to meet in the library, they'd exchange tacit nods and occasionally share insights on a book.

Now, Shiina Hiyori seemed to sense that distinctive gaze. She lifted her eyes from the page. Her clear pupils cut through the chaotic crowd and precisely caught Kazama In's line of sight. She paused briefly, then recognized him. On that perpetually calm face, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared, like early spring snow melting. She didn't speak, only gave an extremely slight nod in his direction as a silent greeting, then returned her gaze to her book, as if their exchange was just a pebble tossed into a swamp, instantly swallowed by the filth without a trace.

Kazama In also gave an almost imperceptible nod in response, a barely detectable ripple passing through his ink-black eyes. It was a pure, serene recognition based on intellectual rationality and a certain shared solitary temperament.

"Ha?!" Ryuen Kakeru followed Kazama In's gaze, spotted Shiina Hiyori, and caught the silent interaction between them. As if discovering the biggest joke, he burst into even more grating laughter. "Hahahaha! Kazama In?! You ice block actually know that freak bookworm who's always got her nose in a book and doesn't even know where her own class is?! That's hilarious! What, you wanna try falling in love too? Gonna ask her how to chase that naive idiot Ichinose? Huh?" He mocked relentlessly, trying to provoke Kazama In, while Ishizaki and the others joined in with lewd snickers.

Kazama In's gaze instantly snapped back from Shiina Hiyori to Ryuen. That look was no longer calm—it plummeted to sub-zero extremes! Like the concentrated cold of a ten-thousand-year glacier's deepest core, it carried a tangible, suffocating pressure! No angry roar, no agitated expression—only pure, icy indifference, as if looking at something lifeless!

Ryuen's exaggerated grin froze instantly! As if struck by an invisible icicle, a chill shot up his spine to the top of his head! Ishizaki and the others' laughter died as if their throats had been squeezed shut, fear flashing on their faces as they instinctively stepped back half a pace. Ryuen felt like prey locked onto by some apex predator, his heart pounding uncontrollably, that icy gaze seemingly freezing his blood.

Koenji Rokusuke timely let out an elegant yet utterly contemptuous sigh: "Oh-ho-ho, a maggot rolling in the mud, trying to defile the moonlight with its filthy words? What an... ugly and nauseating struggle. This twisted 'aesthetic' is truly... unbearable to witness." His words, like poisoned silver needles, precisely stabbed at Ryuen.

Ryuen's face instantly flushed a livid purple, a mix of shame and rage. He stared hard at Kazama In, wanting to throw out some harsh words, but under that frozen gaze, his throat seemed blocked, and he couldn't utter a single syllable. Finally, he could only force out a vicious "Tch!" through gritted teeth, glaring at Kazama In. As if to save face, he barked roughly in Shiina Hiyori's direction: "What are you looking at! Get lost!" Then, with Ishizaki and Albert, like a beaten cur, he turned and slunk back into the chaotic depths of Class C's camp, muttering curses.

Shiina Hiyori acted as if she hadn't heard Ryuen's shout, not even lifting her head, still immersed in her book's world.

Leaving Class C's suffocating zone, walking back, the air seemed much fresher. The four were silent for a moment, each digesting the two starkly different "encounters."

Horikita Suzune spoke first, her tone heavy with analysis: "Class A's defense is impenetrable, their attitude tough and closed off. The leader is highly likely Katsuragi Kohei, but Sakayanagi Arisu's presence can't be ignored. Class C..." She frowned, as if recalling that unpleasant atmosphere, "chaotic, undisciplined. Ryuen Kakeru is the absolute core and tyrant; he's undoubtedly the leader. That chaos itself is a weapon, very dangerous."

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka nodded silently, adding, "Ryuen was deliberately provoking us, especially you, Kazama. He might be testing, or trying to create conflict." He paused, then seemingly casually looked at Kazama In. "You and Shiina... met in the library?" He'd noticed that extremely brief but existing interaction.

Kazama In didn't slow his pace, merely replying with a faint "Mm": "Read the same book." Still concise.

Koenji Rokusuke, meanwhile, was immersed in aesthetic evaluation, as if the filth had been purified: "Class A's order is like a cold diamond—hard, brilliant, but lacking warmth. Class C's chaos is like a boiling swamp, churning with primal brutality and ugly desires... Hmm, though low-grade, it's still a kind of 'existence justifies itself' barbaric aesthetic. As for Miss Shiina Hiyori..." He glanced back toward Class C, his eyes appreciative, "able to maintain a pure sanctuary of books amidst the filth, that transcendent tranquility and focus, like a snow lotus blooming in the mud, possessing a cleansing purity of the soul. Admirable."

Kazama In didn't join the discussion. Part of his mind lingered on the warning from that hidden "Blood Crow" mark in Class A's cave, while another part drifted toward the waterfall area to the northwest. Ryuen's madness was certainly a threat, but the two lurking assassins, the deadly trap using Ichinose as bait—that was the real pressing concern. Class C's chaos might just be the opportunity for the assassins to fish in troubled waters. Shiina Hiyori's figure, calmly reading amidst the filth, was like an unexpected coordinate point of rational light on this crisis-ridden chessboard, reminding him of the complexity and truth beneath the surface. The reconnaissance was over, but the real battle had only just begun. He had to be faster, more precise.