Classroom of the Elite: Standing Firm in Class A — Chapter 109

Chapter 109: Leisure

“Not yet. That sudden exam announcement threw a wrench into things. The moment I stepped out of the room, I got roped into a rather tedious conversation.” Kaedehara Tetsu offered a light, dismissive shrug.

“Then the timing is perfect.”

Ichinose Honami clasped her hands together, tilting her head just enough for a cascade of smooth, strawberry-blonde hair to slip over her shoulder.

“I haven’t eaten either. Care to head down to the restaurant together? I heard tonight’s buffet is serving an amazing seafood spread.”

The heavy atmosphere of their previous discussion vanished from her eyes, replaced by a bright, genuine anticipation. For a fleeting moment, she wasn’t the burdened leader of Class B. She was just an ordinary high school girl asking a friend to dinner.

“An invitation from a beautiful girl?” Tetsu smiled, stepping smoothly into stride beside her. “I’d be a fool to refuse. Let’s go. I could use a good meal myself.”

The dining hall was a riot of bright lights and overlapping chatter. Following the abrupt special exam notice, the student body had clearly decided to vent their collective stress through sheer gluttony. A massive line snaked around the buffet counters, while the rich, savory aroma of sizzling butter, grilled meats, and fresh ocean fare hung heavy in the air.

Tetsu and Honami grabbed their plates, handling the dazzling array of culinary options.

“Oh, look at the grilled scallops over there,” Honami murmured, pointing toward a silver platter of freshly seared seafood.

“They certainly didn’t skimp on the size,” Tetsu noted. He casually picked up the tongs, transferring two large, perfectly caramelized scallops onto her plate. “Eat up. Plotting your class’s survival burns a lot of calories.”

“Huh? Thank you…”

Honami blinked in surprise before a brilliant, unguarded smile broke across her face.

The casual intimacy of the gesture did not go unnoticed. Across the hall, several male students shot daggers of pure envy in Tetsu’s direction. To share such an effortless, domestic moment with the undisputed goddess of Class B was a fantasy most boys on the ship harbored in secret.

Finding a quiet table near the edge of the dining area, they settled in. Honami pressed her palms together in a polite, customary greeting before eagerly taking up her chopsticks. Naturally, she went straight for the scallop Tetsu had plated for her.

“Ah—hot…”

She parted her glossy pink lips, blowing softly over the steaming meat a few times before taking a cautious bite. She chewed slowly, her eyes widening.

“Mmm! It’s incredible!”

Tetsu let out a low, quiet laugh at her dramatic, entirely genuine reaction. “Pace yourself. No one is going to steal it off your plate.”

“Speaking of food,” Honami said, using her chopsticks to gently prod a slice of grilled salmon, “there’s a dessert café on board selling a limited-edition strawberry milk. It’s notoriously hard to get. I’ve stopped by a few times, but they’re always sold out.”

“Ah… that one.” Tetsu leaned back in his chair. “I actually managed to try it once.”

He omitted the part where Kamuro Masumi had practically dragged him there by force.

“Really?” Honami’s eyes lit up with immediate curiosity. “How was it? Does it actually taste like ‘the sweetness of first love’ like the rumors claim?”

Tetsu considered the question, swirling the ice water in his glass. “How should I put it… Rather than first love, it tastes more like the bitterness of unrequited love.”

“Because it’s sweet?”

“Because it’s cloying. Sickeningly sweet,” Tetsu corrected with a dry smirk. “It’s a textbook case of artificial scarcity and over-marketing. Though I suppose the cute pink packaging does its job of trapping the female demographic.”

Honami giggled. “That is a brutally harsh review. But hearing you tear it down just makes me want to try it more.”

“If I ever get my hands on another bottle, it’s yours.”

“Really? Then it’s a promise. In exchange, I’ll lend you a fantastic mystery novel I dug up in the ship’s library…”

The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. They drifted through trivial topics—critiquing the overpriced snacks at the convenience store, debating the merits of the library’s collection, and lamenting the vacation plans that the sudden exam had mercilessly crushed.

Honami was a remarkably gifted conversationalist. She possessed an innate ability to catch the subtle hooks in any topic, responding with an engaging warmth that made the person across from her feel entirely at ease.

Eventually, the food vanished.

“I’m so full…” Honami murmured, staring at her empty plate. “I’m fairly certain my calorie intake for tonight just shattered the daily limit.”

“Indulgence is fine every now and then,” Tetsu replied smoothly. “Besides, a full stomach ensures you have the stamina to deal with tomorrow’s exam.”

Honami blinked, the relaxed curve of her shoulders stiffening as reality crashed back down.

“Ah… seriously, I had managed to completely block that out. Now I’m getting anxious again. Couldn’t you have let me live in denial just a little longer?”

“Running away won’t solve anything, Honami.” Tetsu used her given name naturally, his tone devoid of any harsh lecturing. “And honestly, I doubt a minor hurdle like this will actually trip you up.”

“I’ll choose to believe you,” she sighed softly.

A brief, thoughtful silence settled between them.

“By the way, Kaedehara-san…” Honami hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her water glass as she carefully weighed her words. “About that suggestion you made earlier… I can’t give you a definitive answer right now. But I am going to seriously consider it. After all… if it’s coming from you, I don’t think it would be a bad thing.”

“Take your time,” Tetsu replied, his expression unreadable but relaxed. “Like I said, there’s no rush. Regardless of your answer, it won’t change where we stand right now.”

Honami popped the final morsel of salmon into her mouth, her eyes narrowing in pure, feline satisfaction.

“I really am stuffed…”

She dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin, letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

Tetsu set his chopsticks down, a faint, amused smile lingering on his lips. “Then let’s take a walk. It’ll help you digest.”

“A stroll on the deck?”

“Exactly. I could use some fresh air.”

They left the bustling dining hall side by side, handling the brightly lit corridors until they stepped out into the open night. The ocean breeze immediately swept over them, carrying the sharp, salty tang of the sea. It was cool against the skin, but far from freezing.

Unfortunately, the brilliant starry sky they had hoped for was nowhere to be seen. Heavy banks of cumulus clouds blanketed the atmosphere, allowing only a handful of isolated stars to pierce the gloom.

Tetsu stepped up to the edge, resting his hands against the chilled metal of the ship’s railing. The low, rhythmic roar of the waves crashing against the hull filled the silence.

Beside him, Honami let out a quiet breath.

“What a shame. I was really looking forward to the stars.”

The girl leaned forward, resting her chin delicately on her folded hands. The turbulent night wind caught her long pink hair, whipping the strands wildly around her face. She reached up, carefully tucking a few stray locks behind her ear.

Despite her words, her tone lacked any real disappointment.

“The ocean breeze feels wonderful, though,” she added, turning her head to look at him. “Honestly, just standing here, enjoying the wind and talking like this… it’s a rare luxury for me.”

They stood mere inches apart—a distance that breached the standard boundaries of casual friendship, edging into something decidedly more intimate. Beneath the sharp scent of the ocean, Tetsu could detect the faint, sweet notes of citrus radiating from her skin.

He turned his head, his dark eyes tracing the delicate flush the wind had painted across her cheeks.

“The clouds have their own kind of beauty,” Tetsu murmured, his voice low over the sound of the rushing water. “Like you said, it’s the mood of the moment that matters, not the scenery above us. If you require a perfect starry sky just to be happy, you’re setting the bar far too high.”

“You always manage to say something surprisingly philosophical, Kaedehara-san.”

Honami turned her back to the dark ocean, leaning her weight against the railing. She braced her hands behind her and tilted her head back, exposing the pale, elegant curve of her neck to the night sky.