Classroom of the Elite: Standing Firm in Class A — Chapter 101

Chapter 101: The Fractured Class D

Yukimura Teruhiko closed the distance in three furious strides, his hands snapping out to fist the fabric of Hirata Yosuke’s collar.

“Hirata, don’t you dare play the saint with me!”

Yukimura’s voice cracked, pitching into a shrill register fueled by pure, unadulterated panic. “Making such a massive decision without consulting a single one of us is completely irresponsible!”

Caught entirely off guard, Hirata stumbled backward under the sudden physical assault. Yet, true to his nature, he offered zero resistance. He simply lowered his head, his bangs casting long shadows over his eyes as he absorbed the venom of Yukimura’s accusations.

“What kind of coward makes a call like that but lacks the guts to face the consequences?” Yukimura spat, shaking the boy. “It’s not just the idiot who took the key card. You are just as guilty, Hirata! You have completely ruined everything for this class!”

“I… I just wanted to do something to protect the class…” Hirata murmured, his voice hollow and strained.

“Stop putting on that pathetic act! There is absolutely no way you acted unilaterally on a decision this critical!” Yukimura’s knuckles turned a bloodless white from the sheer force of his grip, violently crumpling the pristine fabric of Hirata’s uniform. “Bring out the person who actually took the key card! Make them stand here and explain why they made such a monumentally stupid decision!”

The fragile illusion of unity within Class D shattered in an instant, the students rapidly polarizing into two distinct factions on the sunbaked sand.

A tight-knit cluster of girls, led by Karuizawa Kei, immediately rallied behind Hirata.

“Enough!” Karuizawa shrieked, her sharp voice cutting through the rising clamor. “What does any of this have to do with Hirata-kun? He is already worried sick about Horikita-san’s condition, and now you have the nerve to interrogate him like a criminal!”

The girls flanking Karuizawa nodded in fervent agreement, their glares fixed on the opposing boys. “Hirata-kun is always looking out for us. How could he ever intentionally sabotage the class?”

But the outrage boiling on the other side of the invisible divide was far too intense to be quelled by blind loyalty.

“Stop defending him just because you like him!” a boy yelled back.

“This isn’t the time to debate who has a good personality! The only thing that matters right now is who exactly took the damn key card!”

“Exactly! Since Hirata claims he was acting as the temporary leader, then he needs to produce the key card! Why hasn’t it been shown to us yet?”

“It is painfully obvious you are just trying to shield the actual culprit who screwed us over!”

The hostility between the two camps escalated with terrifying speed, their voices overlapping into a chaotic, deafening roar. The previously tranquil atmosphere of the island beach was entirely obliterated, leaving the ugly, fractured reality of Class D exposed for the entire school to witness.

Watching the social hierarchy of her class disintegrate, Kushida Kikyo hurriedly stepped into the crossfire, wearing her signature mask of desperate concern.

“Everyone, please, you need to calm down. Screaming at each other won’t change the exam results. We need to unite and figure out a way to solve this problem together!”

She paced anxiously between the two glaring factions, using every ounce of her usual charm to defuse the ticking time bomb. “Hirata-kun has indeed taken on a massive burden for all of us, but Yukimura-kun’s frustrations are completely understandable too. We are all classmates. We shouldn’t be tearing each other apart like this!”

For the first time since enrollment, Kushida’s sweet mediation fell on entirely deaf ears.

The collective fury of the class had breached a point of no return, rendering any voice of reason utterly powerless against the tidal wave of resentment.

“Kushida!” Yukimura snapped, whipping his head toward her. “You seriously want to play the naive peacemaker at a time like this? We just lost all of our Class Points! This is not some trivial misunderstanding!”

“He is right! It is way too late to preach about the power of friendship!”

The boys backing Yukimura sneered in agreement. “The disaster already happened. Someone has to bleed for this!”

Karuizawa refused to yield an inch. “You people are just desperate to find a scapegoat! Hirata-kun has sacrificed his own well-being for this class time and time again. You never even bother to thank him, but the second something goes wrong, you throw him to the wolves!”

“You actually have the nerve to say that? If it weren’t for you spoiled, useless brats dragging us down, we could have actually maintained a decent score!”

“Excuse me? If you boys are so incredibly capable, why didn’t you step up on the very first day? Why wait until the exam is over to act like tactical geniuses?”

“What the hell did you just say? You think we are incapable?”

“That is exactly what I am saying! If you are so smart, why didn’t you volunteer to be the leader? Why didn’t you make the hard choices yourself!”

The vicious screaming match echoed across the shoreline. Students from the other classes lingered nearby, casting a mix of curious, mocking, and pitying glances at the spectacle. The complete and utter collapse of Class D had become the premier entertainment of the afternoon.

Just as the verbal warfare threatened to devolve into a physical brawl, Mashima Tomoya finally stepped forward, his patience entirely exhausted.

“Enough!”

The booming, authoritative command cracked like a whip over the sand.

“I do not care what petty internal squabbles you have brewing, but while you are standing in front of me, you will maintain basic discipline. This is an official exam site, not a playground for you to throw temper tantrums!”

The sheer weight of the homeroom teacher’s presence instantly suffocated the riot. Even the hyperventilating Yukimura flinched, his white-knuckled grip finally releasing Hirata’s ruined collar.

A tense, suffocating silence reclaimed the beach, leaving only the rhythmic, indifferent crash of the ocean waves against the shore.

“If you have legitimate objections regarding the final point tally, you are free to apply for a formal review through the proper school channels. But throwing a public tantrum here will only degrade your class’s reputation further.”

Mashima swept a cold, calculating gaze over the fractured student body. “Cease this arguing immediately and return to your designated lines!”

Though a venomous resentment still boiled behind their eyes, the students of Class D possessed enough self-preservation to obey the faculty.

They slowly shuffled apart, reforming their scattered ranks, but the invisible walls erected between them were now permanent fixtures.

Hirata stood in silence, his fingers trembling slightly as he attempted to smooth out his violently wrinkled collar. His complexion remained as pale as a corpse.

A dozen paces away, Yukimura stood rigid at the end of the line, his eyes burning holes into the back of Hirata’s head.

Hours later, the luxurious cruise ship sliced through the deep azure waters, carrying the student body away from the grueling wilderness. The salty sea breeze swept across the sprawling upper deck, offering a gentle reprieve to the battered and exhausted teenagers.

The brutal seven-day special exam on the uninhabited island had finally concluded. Everyone who boarded the vessel carried a heavy mixture of physical fatigue, lingering paranoia, and complex emotional baggage.

Kaedehara Tetsu strolled onto the polished wooden deck, his posture relaxed and his expression a mask of cool indifference. He had zero interest in the lingering drama. His current agenda consisted entirely of returning to his private cabin, standing under a scalding hot shower, and sleeping for twelve uninterrupted hours.

However, the universe rarely accommodated his desire for peace. Just as he pivoted toward the corridor leading to the guest suites, a highly familiar silhouette intercepted his line of sight.

Horikita Suzune stood alone, her slender frame leaning heavily against the pristine white railing of the ship. Her complexion retained a sickly, translucent pallor, a clear indicator that the severe fever ravaging her system had not yet fully subsided.

The ocean wind whipped her long, raven-black hair around her shoulders, the dark strands catching the golden hues of the late afternoon sun.

Her sharp, unyielding crimson eyes were locked directly onto Tetsu’s approaching figure. She had clearly been waiting for him.

Recognizing the sheer amount of exhausting conversation that look entailed, Tetsu instinctively adjusted his trajectory, fully intending to take a wide detour around her.

He almost made it.

“Kaedehara-san.”

Her voice lacked its usual biting volume, but the crisp, authoritative syllables cut through the ambient noise of the quiet deck with perfect clarity.

Tetsu halted his retreat, letting out a faint, inaudible sigh before turning to face her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting in the infirmary?” he asked, his tone dry. “Your fever shouldn’t be completely gone yet, right?”

Horikita pushed herself off the railing and closed the distance between them. Her steps were measured but noticeably unsteady, betraying the lingering weakness in her muscles.

“It is not a major issue,” she replied, her gaze unwavering. “A little physical discomfort is entirely irrelevant compared to the sheer volume of questions currently plaguing my mind.”

“And what exactly do you want to talk about?” Tetsu asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Everything regarding this special exam.” She stopped a few feet away, looking up at him. “I want to know exactly what transpired in the shadows.”

Tetsu raised a single, amused eyebrow. “Then you should go interrogate your own classmates, or perhaps ask your homeroom teacher directly. Why ambush me?”

“Because Class A emerged as the absolute victor of this exam. You naturally possess the most accurate understanding of the final results,” Horikita stated, her logic cold and precise. “I need to deconstruct the entire process from the perspective of the one who orchestrated the winning board.”

She paused, her gaze dropping to the wooden deck for a fraction of a second. “And… unfortunately, I am not exactly popular among my peers.”

A rare, bitter hint of self-deprecation bled into her usually haughty tone. “Within the ranks of Class A, you are the only individual I can even remotely classify as an acquaintance.”

Tetsu studied her pale face for a long moment, noting the desperate, burning curiosity hiding behind her stoic mask. He let out a soft chuckle.

“Fine,” Tetsu conceded, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. “Let’s find a place to sit and talk.”