Lair

The next morning, damp mist hung among the trees, mingling with the clear calls of birds. Class D's camp slowly awoke, the air stirring with tension over the unknown. Horikita Suzune found Ayanokoji Kiyotaka and spoke decisively. "We need information. Come with me to scout Class A and Class C's bases and try to identify their leaders." Her goal was clear and direct.

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

Just then, Kazama In and Koenji Rokusuke approached. Kazama's gaze swept over the two of them, and he spoke in an even tone. "Can I come along?" As Class D's public-facing leader, it was his duty to keep track of the bigger picture. More importantly, he needed to assess Sakayanagi's safety in Class A and the chaos Ryuen might cause in Class C—and that chaos could also provide cover for the assassins.

Koenji elegantly brushed back his dazzling blond hair, his smile like sunshine breaking through the mist. "Oh-ho-ho! Exploring a fortress governed by strict order and a lair where chaos breeds? Such a dramatically compelling contrast—perfect material for my pursuit of the ultimate beauty! How could I pass it up?" He readily joined them.

And so, a four-person team consisting of Kazama In as leader, Koenji Rokusuke, Horikita Suzune, and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka quietly left camp and ventured deep into the woods.

Class A's base was a cave with its back against the mountainside and a narrow, dry entrance. In the morning light, it looked even more impregnable. Outside the entrance, the campfire's embers had yet to cool. Two boys in Class A uniforms stood rigid as spears, their eyes sharp as hawks as they warily scanned their surroundings.

The moment the four approached, while they were still twenty meters from the entrance, one of the guards stepped forward and held his right hand near the whistle at his waist. His voice was cold, devoid of warmth. "Stop! This is Class A territory. No trespassing! Leave at once!" His tone was forceful, leaving no room for negotiation.

Horikita furrowed her brows, displeased by this almost overbearing expulsion, but tried to reason with them. "We're representatives of Class D. We're only here for a necessary exchange, to learn about the other classes—"

"An exchange?" the guard interrupted, the corner of his mouth lifting in a mocking smile. "Under the rules, everyone's an opponent. Snooping is snooping! Final warning: back off!" The other guard stepped forward as well, striking an intimidating stance. The atmosphere tightened in an instant.

Ayanokoji remained expressionless, but his gaze swept over the guards' positions, the terrain around the entrance, and the faint light and presence coming from within the cave, like a precision scanner. He sensed a steady, weighty presence deeper inside—Katsuragi. The defense was blunt and forceful, in keeping with Katsuragi's style, but that presence inside the cave... It couldn't be ignored.

Kazama stood at the front, his ink-black eyes meeting the guards' cold stares without a change in expression. His gaze was as deep as a frozen pool, and the guards instinctively tensed. He said nothing, merely lifting a hand slightly to stop Horikita's futile attempt at negotiation. Class A's refusal was an ice-cast wall, without a single gap.

Koenji, meanwhile, surveyed the scene with interest, as if appraising a cold, sharp-edged sculpture. "Oh? Such a tight defense, like a palace of ice crystals that turns visitors away, radiating the beauty of order and power. A pity... it lacks the pulse of life. Far too rigid." His regretful appraisal only darkened the guards' expressions.

"Let's go," Kazama said, turning away briskly. Horikita gave a cold snort. Though reluctant, she knew there was no point in pressing the matter, and followed with a stony expression. Ayanokoji took one last look into the cave before silently turning away. Koenji shrugged elegantly, as if they had merely visited an art gallery with an unusual style.

Leaving Class A's icy fortress behind, the four headed toward Class C's base. An oppressive, restless air seemed to gather around them. Class C had chosen a clearing in a low-lying area of the woods, near the edge of a swamp. The camp was a mess, with crooked tents and leftover fruit pits and junk scattered around the campfire. Several boys clustered together, shouting loudly without the slightest concern for security.

Before they had even come close, they heard a burst of grating laughter and crude insults. Ryuen Kakeru appeared at the edge of the camp, leaning against a tree with his hands in his pockets and his trademark malicious grin on his face. Ishizaki Daichi and Albert stood behind him like his two loyal henchmen.

"Well, well. If it isn't Class D's 'elites'!" Ryuen drawled mockingly. "What's the matter? Can't stand staying in your own little nest, so you came out looking for shit to eat?" Ishizaki and the others joined in with loud laughter.

A trace of disgust flashed in Horikita's eyes, but she still tried to remain calm. "Ryuen, we're here for a necessary exchange—"

"An exchange?" Ryuen interrupted her theatrically. He straightened up and walked toward them step by step, his gaze sliding over the four of them like a snake before settling on Kazama. "What's there to discuss with a bunch of losers? Or..." His grin widened. "Did you come to grovel and beg me to spare you?"

The atmosphere dropped to freezing in an instant. Ayanokoji remained expressionless, but his body was in a subtly relaxed state, ready to handle anything that might happen. Koenji frowned slightly, as if he had spotted something filthy, and elegantly covered the tip of his nose with a silk handkerchief.

Just then, Kazama's gaze passed over Ryuen and the restless Class C students behind him, landing on a lone tree at the edge of the camp, near the swamp. Shiina Hiyori sat quietly beneath it on a relatively clean stone, a book open on her lap. Her head was slightly bowed, her chestnut hair falling over part of 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, dappling her with light and shadow. Her absorbed stillness stood in jarring contrast to the disorder of Class C's camp.

Kazama's gaze paused. He recognized the book's cover—the latest volume of Love Song of Green Seasons. A clear memory surfaced: the quietest corner of the school library. Hoping to understand the baffling logic of his peers' "emotions," he had deliberately picked up this much-discussed romance novel. As he tried to find some sort of "behavioral pattern" in its delicate psychological descriptions and tangled emotions, a soft voice like a feather had sounded beside him. "Do you like Green Seasons too?" He had looked up and seen Shiina Hiyori holding the latest volume as well. They had briefly, but unusually congenially, discussed the metaphor behind a certain scene, the plausibility of the characters' motives, and even the point of a fundamentally irrational emotion like "love." Kazama had been surprised to find that this seemingly quiet girl had such a keen, clear mind, with an analytical perspective almost as dispassionate as his own. It was a rare intellectual kinship, found amid the noisy school. Since then, when they happened to meet in the library, they would exchange a knowing nod and occasionally share their thoughts on a book.

At that moment, Shiina seemed to sense the unusual gaze. She looked up from the page. Her clear eyes passed through the disorderly crowd and met Kazama's directly. She paused in surprise, then recognized him. The face that was always so calm showed the faintest smile, like snow melting in early spring, almost too subtle to notice. She said nothing, only giving Kazama's direction an almost imperceptible nod in silent greeting. Then her eyes returned to the page, as if their brief exchange had been no more than a pebble dropped into a swamp, swallowed by the filth in an instant without a trace.

Kazama gave an equally slight nod in response, an almost imperceptible ripple passing through his ink-black eyes. It was a pure, calm recognition grounded in an appreciation of rational thought and a certain shared air of loneliness.

"Huh?!" Ryuen followed Kazama's gaze and spotted Shiina. Seeing their silent interaction, he burst into even louder laughter as if he had uncovered the joke of the century. "Hahahaha! Kazama In?! You, an ice block, know that weirdo bookworm who's always clutching a book and doesn't even know where her own class is?! That's hilarious! What, you want to learn how to date too? Ask her how to get Ichinose, that airhead, to fall for you? Huh?" He mocked Kazama without restraint, trying to provoke him. Ishizaki and the others joined in with sleazy laughter.

Kazama's gaze instantly shifted from Shiina to Ryuen. It was no longer calm; it plunged suddenly below freezing! Like a glint of cold light gathered in the deepest reaches of an ancient glacier, it carried a tangible, suffocating pressure. There was no angry roar, no agitated expression—only a pure, icy indifference, as if he were looking at a corpse.

Ryuen's exaggerated grin froze on his face! It was as if an invisible icicle had pierced him, a chill shooting up his spine to the crown of his head! Ishizaki and the others' laughter choked off as if their throats had been seized, their faces showing fear as they instinctively retreated half a step. Ryuen felt like prey locked onto by an apex predator. His heart began pounding uncontrollably, and that frigid gaze seemed capable of freezing his blood.

Koenji let out an elegant sigh, perfectly timed and filled with contempt. "Oh-ho-ho, a maggot rolling around in a mud pit, trying to defile the pure moonlight with filthy words? What a... hideous and revolting struggle. This twisted 'beauty' is truly... painful to look at." His words were like poisoned silver needles, striking Ryuen with precision.

Ryuen's face flushed a liverish red with shame and fury. He stared hard at Kazama, wanting to spit out a few threats, but under that icy gaze, his throat felt blocked, and not a single word came out. In the end, he could only force a vicious "Tch!" through his teeth and glare at Kazama. As if to save face, he turned and shouted crudely toward Shiina. "What're you looking at? Get lost!" Then, with Ishizaki and Albert, he stormed back into the depths of Class C's chaotic camp, cursing all the way like a beaten dog.

Shiina Hiyori seemed not to hear Ryuen's shout. She didn't even raise her head, remaining immersed in the world of her book.

After leaving Class C's suffocating territory, the four walked back, and the air seemed fresher. They were silent for a while, each processing the two very different encounters.

Horikita spoke first, her voice heavy with analysis. "Class A's defenses are flawless, and their attitude is rigid and closed off. Katsuragi Kohei is very likely their leader, but Sakayanagi Arisu's presence can't be ignored. As for Class C..." She furrowed her brows, as if recalling the unpleasant atmosphere. "It's chaotic and undisciplined. Ryuen Kakeru is unquestionably the center of power and the tyrant there. He's definitely the leader. That chaos itself is a weapon. It's extremely dangerous."

Ayanokoji nodded silently and added, "Ryuen was deliberately trying to provoke us, especially Kazama. He might have been testing us or trying to start a conflict." He paused, then glanced seemingly casually at Kazama. "You and Shiina know each other from the library?" He had noticed their brief but unmistakable interaction.

Kazama didn't slow his step. He gave a faint "Mm." "We read the same book." As ever, he was concise.

Koenji was absorbed in his aesthetic assessment, as if the filth of the encounter had already been cleansed. "Class A's order is like a cold diamond: hard and dazzling, yet lacking warmth. Class C's chaos is like a boiling mire, roiling with primitive brutality and ugly desire... Hmm, its caliber is low, but it is still a savage sort of beauty where 'existence is justification enough.' As for Miss Shiina Hiyori..." He looked back toward Class C, admiration in his eyes. "Though surrounded by filth, she keeps her own little sanctuary among the pages. Her detached calm and focus are like a snow lotus blooming in the mud, possessing a pure beauty that cleanses the soul. Truly admirable."

Kazama didn't join the discussion. Part of his thoughts remained on the warning brought by the hidden Blood Crow mark in the cave at Class A's base, while another part drifted to the Waterfall Area in the northwest. Ryuen's madness was certainly a threat, but the two lurking assassins and their deadly trap using Ichinose as bait were the real source of anxiety. Class C's chaos might be an opportunity for the assassins to fish in troubled waters. Shiina Hiyori, reading in silence amid the filth, was like an unexpected point of light in the rational order of this dangerous chess game, reminding him of the complexity and truth beneath the surface. The scouting was over, but the real contest had only just begun. He had to move faster and be more precise.