(NOTICE : ORIGINALLY THIS CHAPTER ALL THE SUPPOSED TO HAVE 5000 TO 6000 WORDS BUT I CUT IT SHORT THINKING THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER WAS ALSO THIS BIG AND IT WILL BE A OAIN TO READ SUCH A BIG CHAPTER AGAIN AND NOW IT HAS 3000 WORDS, SO YOU GUYS TELL ME ARE YOU FINE WITH 5000 WORDS OR IS IT TOO BIG ? )
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With their base camp officially claimed and the initial, nerve-wracking gambit a success, the real work began. The clearing, while strategically brilliant, was still wild. Underbrush needed to be cleared, a fire pit needed to be dug, and their single, school-issued tent needed to be put.
As Hirata began to organize work groups, a surprising volunteer stepped forward.
"Leave the camp setup to me,"
Ike Kanji declared, a strange confidence in his eyes. He pointed to their lone tent.
"That's a standard two-pole dome tent. I know how to pitch it. I've been camping with my family since I was a kid. I know how to find good tinder, how to build a decent fire ring, all that stuff."
Hachiman and Horikita exchanged a look. It seemed even the class idiots had hidden, situationally useful talents. It was a valuable lesson: everyone had a potential purpose, if you could find the right context.
"Very well, Ike-kun," Horikita said, seizing the opportunity. "You are now in charge of camp management. Delegate tasks as you see fit."
Ike puffed out his chest, thrilled at being given a position of actual importance. For the first time, he wasn't just a clown; he was a vital part of their operation.
However, as the camp began to take shape, the first major crack in Class D's fragile unity appeared. It began, as many conflicts do, with a basic human need.
"Umm, Hirata-kun?" Shinohara Satsuki asked, looking deeply uncomfortable. "The… toilet situation. What is it?"
Hirata consulted the manual. "The school offers portable, single-use cardboard toilets. They seem to be the most cost-effective option."
The boys, for the most part, shrugged. It wasn't ideal, but it was functional. The girls, however, reacted with collective horror.
"Cardboard?!"
"You can't be serious! That's disgusting!"
"There's no way I'm using that!"
The grumbling quickly escalated into a full-blown demand. "Hirata-kun, we have to buy a real portable toilet from the manual," Shinohara insisted, acting as the spokesperson for the increasingly agitated group of girls. "It's a matter of hygiene! And privacy!"
Yukimura Teruhiko, ever the pragmatist when it came to points, immediately stepped in to argue. "That's completely irrational, Shinohara-san! Do you have any idea how much that will cost?" He flipped open his own copy of the manual. "A single portable toilet costs 20 S-Points, and its 'occupation'—which I assume means the chemical treatment inside it—only lasts for 10 hours! Over a seven-day period, that's over 140 points just for one toilet! And one toilet is not enough for forty people!"
"We can't just go in the bushes like animals!" another girl cried out. "What if there are bugs? Or snakes?"
"We are critically behind the other classes!" Yukimura countered, his voice rising with frustration. "We cannot afford to waste points on luxuries! This is a survival test, not a glamping trip!"
The two factions were at a deadlock, the pragmatic need to save points clashing with the desperate desire for basic comfort and dignity. Hirata, caught in the middle, looked increasingly distressed, trying and failing to placate both sides.
Hachiman watched the chaos unfold with a familiar, weary sigh. This is Class D in a nutshell, he thought. A crisis born from stupidity and an inability to compromise.
Just as the argument was about to boil over, Horikita stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding silence.
"Enough," she stated, her voice cutting through the noise. She addressed the girls first. "Your concerns about hygiene are valid." Then she turned to Yukimura. "And your concerns about the point cost are also valid. There is, however, a middle ground."
Her gaze swept over the class. "Our water and food situation is largely covered by the resources of this location. We can afford a single 20-point portable toilet. However," she added, her voice hardening, "the 10-hour chemical usage is the main issue. The waterfall provides us with an endless supply of cleaning water. It will be the responsibility of every student who uses the facility to help clean and maintain it. We will make it last."
It was a compromise no one was entirely happy with, but it was a solution. The girls got their toilet, and the point-savers were placated by the fact that it was a one-time purchase.
With one fire put out, another immediately sparked. The sleeping arrangements.
"Okay," Hirata announced, trying to regain control. "We only have two large tent . That's not enough for forty people. I propose we purchase two more of the large tents. They cost 30 points each, so that's 60 points total, but it will ensure everyone has a comfortable place to sleep."
"Wasteful," Hachiman muttered, just loud enough for Horikita to hear. He gestured to the manual. "Look. 'Large cloth sheet,' 3 S-Points each. We're surrounded by trees. We can make hammocks. Ten of those costs the same as one tent, and we can house more people."
Horikita's eyes lit up with understanding. She immediately relayed the suggestion to the class. "Hirata-kun, a more efficient solution has been proposed. We will purchase cloth sheets and make hammocks. The point expenditure will be minimal."
The boys grumbled but agreed; a hammock was better than the ground. The girls, however, were not so easily convinced.
"Sleep in a hammock? Out here?" Karuizawa exclaimed, voicing the sentiment of many. "No way! We'll get eaten alive by bugs! The girls will sleep in the tent."
"That's not fair!" Ike shouted. "Why do you guys get the tent?"
"Because we're girls!" another girl retorted, as if that were the only explanation needed.
The unfairness was blatant, a clear case of gender privilege being asserted in a survival situation. But the boys, outnumbered and unwilling to escalate a fight with the increasingly unified girls' faction, were about to cave. Hachiman could see Hirata, the gentleman, preparing to concede to their demands.
But then, Horikita did something unexpected.
"Fine," she declared. "The girls can have the tent." A wave of relief washed over the female students. "However," Horikita continued, "as the leader, and as a representative of the girls, I will not be sleeping in it. I will sleep outside, in a hammock, with the boys."
Her statement stunned the entire class into silence. It was a powerful move. It satisfied the girls' demands while simultaneously shaming them for their selfishness. It also reinforced her position as a leader who wouldn't ask her classmates to endure something she wasn't willing to endure herself.
But she knew it wasn't enough. She couldn't risk the girls, led by a strong personality like Karuizawa, ganging up on Hirata later and pressuring him into spending points on other "comforts." His kindness was a liability in this cutthroat environment.
She walked over to Hirata and spoke in a low voice, but one that was clear enough for those nearby to hear.
"Hirata-kun, your talent for social cohesion is invaluable. However, for the duration of this test, all S-Point expenditures must be approved by a different authority. From now on, Hikigaya-kun will manage the points." She turned to Hachiman. "He will have the final say on all purchases. No exceptions."
Me? Hachiman thought, a wave of annoyance washing over him. He understood her logic instantly. Hirata would give in to the girls' requests to maintain harmony. Hachiman, on the other hand, wouldn't give a damn about their feelings if it meant saving points. He was the perfect, heartless accountant. He was the bad cop to her and Hirata's good cop routine. It was a brilliant, and deeply irritating, delegation of responsibility.
With the major logistical hurdles cleared, the camp finally settled into a routine. The tent was up, a fire was crackling, and a handful of hammocks were clumsily strung between the trees. The initial crises had been averted.
It was time to collect supplies and explore the island for more claimable spots. But first, Horikita felt a wave of exhaustion. The constant strategizing, the arguments, the weight of leadership… it was draining. She walked over to where Hachiman was leaning against a tree, observing the controlled chaos with his usual detached air.
"A moment of peace, finally," she said, more to herself than to him.
"Peace is just the lull between storms," he replied without looking at her. "Enjoy it while it lasts."
She knew he was right. The internal conflicts of Class D were just the beginning. Out there, on the island, three other classes were making their own moves, and a certain tyrant was undoubtedly plotting his revenge. The game had only just begun.
With the foundational crises of shelter and sanitation addressed, Class D settled into an uneasy but functional rhythm. Hirata, with his natural talent for organization, helped Horikita and Ike assign tasks. The class fragmented into smaller, purpose-driven groups, spreading out from the base camp like spokes on a wheel.
Karuizawa Kei, having asserted her influence, took charge of a group of girls to forage for edible fruits and berries, their collective chatter a stark contrast to the quiet focus of their work. Ike, now fully embracing his role as 'Camp Master,' led Yamauchi and a few other boys on a fishing expedition downriver, their clumsy attempts surprisingly fruitful.
It was during this expedition that they found her.
Huddled by the riverbank, some distance from their camp, was a lone figure. She had short, dark hair, a defiant expression, and a fresh, ugly bruise blooming on her cheek. It was Ibuki Mio, from Class C.
"Hey, isn't that one of Ryuuen's goons?" Ike muttered.
"Looks like she got punched," Yamauchi observed.
Being the simple-minded boys they were, their immediate instinct was a mixture of suspicion and a chivalrous desire to help a 'damsel in distress.' They cautiously approached her.
"You alright?" Ike asked.
Ibuki glared at them. "What do you want?"
"We saw your face… did Ryuuen do that to you?"
She flinched, a flicker of anger and humiliation in her eyes. "I disagreed with how he was running things. He's a tyrant. He kicked me out. Me and another student who stood up to him. Said we were dead weight."
The story, combined with the visible evidence of violence, was enough to sway the boys. Their brains, fueled by a potent cocktail of sympathy and burgeoning hormones, went into overdrive.
"That's awful! You can't just stay out here alone!" Yamauchi exclaimed. "Why don't you… uh… come to our camp? We've got food and a fire."
Ibuki looked at them with pure disdain. "And why would I do that? So you can try and get information out of me? You idiots. I'm still from Class C. You'd have to be a complete moron to trust someone from an enemy class."
She had a point. But Hirata, who had been drawn over by the commotion, just smiled his usual kind, disarming smile. "She's right to be cautious. But we wouldn't ask you for anything, Ibuki-san. You're a fellow student in a difficult situation. If you need a safe place to rest, our camp is open to you." He wasn't bothered by her harsh words; in fact, he seemed pleased that she was so considerate of their class's security.
Ibuki stared at him, clearly baffled by his genuine lack of guile. With a frustrated sigh, she finally relented. "Fine. But I'm staying on the edge. Don't talk to me." She followed them back, keeping a wary distance, her presence a new, unpredictable variable in their carefully managed ecosystem.
Elsewhere, Sudou and Sakura were tasked with collecting firewood. Surprisingly, Koenji Rokusuke had deigned to join them, claiming that a "brief, rustic excursion" would be "amusing." His contribution, however, consisted mainly of finding a sturdy vine and swinging through the trees like a B-list Tarzan, laughing maniacally.
"Behold! The beauty of my perfect form, harmonizing with nature!" he declared from the top of a tree.
Sudou and Sakura just ignored him. They were used to his eccentricities. They were far more absorbed in each other's company, the easy silence and occasional conversation a comfortable rhythm they were quickly falling into.
Meanwhile, Hachiman and Horikita were on a mission of their own: scouting for more claimable spots. Hachiman, with his knack for reading maps and terrain, had identified five potential locations.
"Here, here, and here," he said, pointing to the map. "But they're all too far from our base camp. To claim them, someone would have to camp out overnight near this central point, then make a mad dash to all five spots on the final morning before the 8 AM deadline."
He shuddered at the thought. "It's too much running. Too much effort. My legs would turn to jelly. I don't have the stamina for that."
"You don't need to," Horikita reassured him, a determined glint in her eye. "Because I'm going to do it. On the final night, I will camp out here myself and claim the spots at dawn."
Hachiman looked at her, a flicker of respect in his eyes. She was a hypocrite with her philosophy but a true warrior in spirit.
As they walked, Horikita stopped. They were approaching a large, shadowed cave mouth, another location she had noted from the ship. "This must be a spot," she murmured.
Just as they were about to step into the open, they heard the crunch of footsteps from within. Someone was coming out.
Hachiman's reaction time was, as usual, slow. He froze, realizing he was about to be seen. But Horikita moved with a startling quickness. She grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him backward behind a thick cluster of bushes. In the same motion, she clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle any sound he might make.
The sudden, forceful movement sent Hachiman stumbling back against her. He could feel the surprising softness of her chest pressed against his back, her slender fingers firm against his lips. A jolt, entirely separate from the adrenaline of almost being caught, shot through him. He was acutely aware of her warmth, the faint scent of her shampoo. A blush crept up his neck. This is… not an unpleasant feeling, a traitorous part of his brain commented. He quickly shoved the thought into the "Do Not Analyze" folder of his mind and focused on the scene before them.
Horikita, for her part, was having a similar, if more flustered, internal crisis. The moment she realized their compromising position—her body pressed against his, her hand covering his mouth in a strangely intimate gesture—a fierce blush bloomed on her cheeks, a wave of heat she was deeply unaccustomed to. She willed it away, forcing her focus back to the cave.
The figure that emerged was Katsuragi Kohei of Class A. In his hand, he held a key card, identical to their own, but with the Class A insignia. Moments later, his loyal follower, Totsuka Yahiko, emerged behind him.
"You're a genius for finding this spot, Katsuragi-san!" Yahiko gushed, his voice full of hero worship. "No one else would have thought to check this deep in the forest!"
"It was a logical deduction based on the island's geography," Katsuragi replied modestly. "Let's head back."
The two of them departed, leaving the forest in silence once more. Horikita slowly removed her hand from Hachiman's mouth and they both stepped out from behind the bushes, a palpable awkwardness now hanging between them.
"Ahem," Hachiman cleared his throat, trying to reset the atmosphere. "So. Class A."
Horikita nodded, collecting herself. "Indeed." The brief moment of physical contact was compartmentalized, filed away for later, unwanted analysis. "Let's break this down."
The old, familiar synergy kicked in, pushing the awkwardness aside.
"One of them is the leader," Hachiman started, pacing slowly. "Katsuragi was holding the card. That's the obvious conclusion."
"Too obvious, perhaps," Horikita countered. "Ryuuen is a showman, but Katsuragi strikes me as a far more cautious, intelligent player. He wouldn't be so careless."
"Which leads to two possibilities," Hachiman said, picking up the thread. "Possibility one: Him holding the card is a deliberate bait. A misdirection. He wants us to think he's the leader, so we'll waste our guess on him, while the real leader is someone unassuming, like Yahiko."
"A plausible theory," Horikita agreed. "But there is another. Possibility two: The most obvious answer is sometimes the correct one, precisely because it's so obvious that it breeds suspicion. He's counting on us to overthink it. He is the leader, and he's daring us to doubt what we see with our own eyes."
They stood in silence for a moment. The problem was clear. Without a better understanding of Katsuragi Kohei's character, his personality, his specific brand of logic, they were just guessing.
"We need more information," Horikita stated. "And there's only one other group on this island that might be willing to share it."
"Our new allies," Hachiman finished. "Let's pay a visit to the camp of Class B."
...END...