Chapter 69 Was It Me?
The Dragon Group exam had finally ended, and Hikigaya felt a sense of relief knowing he no longer had to involve himself in the endless discussions.
Early the next morning, he sat in his usual spot at the café, idly passing the time. Other people's exams were none of his concern.
It wasn't long before Horikita Suzune appeared, walking briskly into the café and seating herself directly across from him.
"Did you submit the answers to the school?" she asked without preamble. Her cold gaze pierced him demanding to answer immediately.
Hikigaya raised an eyebrow. "It's just an exam. No need to rush me."
Her cold demeanor persisted. "I don't have time for small talk. Was it you?"
Hikigaya blinked. So impatient, he thought. She must have already grilled Kanzaki and the others. "Yeah, it was me," he admitted nonchalantly.
Horikita leaned in slightly, her tone sharp. "Who did you write down?"
"Kushida Kikyo, from your class," Hikigaya replied, shaking his head at her growing tension. Despite her cold exterior, she had a certain naivety that made her seem surprisingly innocent.
"What?" Horikita shot to her feet and was extremely shocked. "Why... why would you guess her?"
Hikigaya fought back a smirk. Does she really think she's that great at hiding things? His experience with observing people told him otherwise.
"Judging by your reaction, I must be right, Horikita," Hikigaya said smugly. "Have you ever played Werewolf?"
Horikita clicked her tongue in frustration, her pride clearly wounded. "I've heard of it, but what's the point of playing those useless games? I won't learn anything from playing stupid games. What does this have to do with your guess about Kushida?"
Hikigaya chuckled softly, reveling in the moment. "Listen closely—the key to Werewolf is—"
"Just get to the point!"
"Ah, fine..." he muttered, slightly deflated. Not everyone's as patient as Ichinose.
"It's pretty straightforward," Hikigaya said, turning his head lazily. "You brought up Class A to divert attention, didn't you? To hide Kushida's identity as the VIP."
"Impossible!" Horikita straightened her posture, her voice laced with disbelief. "Given the circumstances, it was reasonable to focus on Class A. It's not inconceivable that the VIP was from there."
"That's where you slipped," Hikigaya countered, reclining in his chair. "With your obsession with Class A, if you truly didn't know who the VIP was, you'd have acted more like Ryuuen—pressuring and interrogating everyone present. "Instead, you changed the subject and stayed unusually calm. That slight inconsistency gave it away. You knew the VIP was from Class D."
Horikita sat back down, her shoulders hunched as she lowered her head in silence.
"Hey," Hikigaya said after a moment, sensing something was off. "You're not taking this too hard, are you?"
Her pink fists clenched tightly on the table. "So... it was my fault..."
"Well, uh..." Hikigaya hesitated. Seeing a typically composed girl like Horikita so visibly shaken made him feel a twinge of guilt. For all her coldness, her sense of responsibility was undeniable. She bore the weight of her class's outcomes heavily, perhaps too heavily.
"Look," Hikigaya began, his tone softening. "It wasn't that big of a deal..."
Watching her struggle with her self-imposed burden, Hikigaya couldn't bring himself to criticize her further. After all, even a girl like Horikita deserved some understanding. He wasn't quite capable of offering genuine comfort, so he reluctantly settled for a half-hearted attempt: "Look Hirata and Kushida isn't much better than you. Their unusual behavior throughout the exam is noticeable."
In his view, Horikita Suzune, Kushida Kikyo, and Hirata Yosuke were decent actors; at least they didn't betray themselves with nervous stammers or flushed faces. Society, after all, conditioned children to be "good" and honest, leaving many ill-equipped for the art of lying. He'd heard that when people play Werewolf for the first time, they often falter—faces heating up, hands trembling, unable to mask their deception. Lying, Hikigaya mused, is just one of the important skills to adulthood.
Even so, despite their commendable efforts, he thought their speeches were still lacking. Of course, Ryuuen wasn't much better. His aggressive tactics quickly exposed him as the wolf.
"Is this supposed to be comforting?" Horikita's face darkened. To her, such "comfort" merely implied she was as unremarkable as the rest of Class D.
"That was the plan," Hikigaya replied dryly. This girl really had a knack for being prickly.
"Never mind," Horikita said, taking a deep breath and regaining her composure. "A defeat is a defeat. We'll win it back next time. But don't think it'll be so easy for you. I will defeat you!."
"Oh, is that so," Hikigaya muttered, quickly avoiding her sharp gaze. "You overestimate me. I'm only good at observing people. I'm practically useless and not even worth it. Please don't fixate on me."
Horikita narrowed her eyes, her voice steady. "I'll decide that myself. Still, even though you know Class D and Class B are cooperating, you didn't hesitate to attack us. Don't you feel any shame?"
"Not really," Hikigaya admitted, looking away. "I don't know the specifics of the cooperation, but Ichinose agreed to it. If you have any issues, take it up with her."
"I see," Horikita said, her expression conflicted. "Even if it's called cooperation, it's only in name. There wasn't any agreement to refrain from attacks. I suppose Ichinose considered this and didn't mind. Still, it doesn't sit right with me."
Clearly, the so-called cooperation between the two classes was more like an informal, verbal agreement—a loose understanding to help each other when convenient but not binding during exams.
"Anyway," Horikita said sharply, "Hikigaya, I'll remember this."
"Hey, wait a second!" Before he could say anything more, Horikita placed her hands firmly on the table and walked out of the café with her usual brisk efficiency. Her style was direct and to the point: ask, criticize, and leave.
Hikigaya shook his head helplessly. Predictably, it wasn't long before Ryuuen and Katsuragi approached him with the same questions. Hikigaya responded truthfully—after all, there was no reason to hide anything. But he didn't reveal the identity of the VIP. Each additional piece of information someone uncovered brought them closer to deciphering the rules behind the exam, and he wasn't about to jeopardize his class's position.
As for Ichinose and the others, Hikigaya briefly wondered how they'd handle things. In the end, he decided he didn't care much. If they won, great. If they lost, he'd continue working toward the elusive 20 million personal points.
On August 14th, the final day of the exam, Hikigaya lay on his bed playing a mini-game, waiting for the school to release the results.
"Kanzaki, there's no need to be so nervous," Shibata said from the bed beside him, attempting to calm the atmosphere.
"You saw what just happened," Kanzaki replied, shaking his head gravely. "It's hard to relax."
At nine o'clock that evening, seven of the remaining ten groups had submitted their answers to the school almost simultaneously. The synchronized timing made the situation feel far too calculated—an anomaly that only added to everyone's unease.
"Only three groups didn't submit their answers to the school," Kanzaki said solemnly, shaking his head. "It's obvious that some class figured out how the school selects preferential recipients."
"If the Dragon Team's VIP is really Kushida Kikyo, as Hikigaya speculated, then the class that submitted their answer is likely one of the intact classes—Class C or Class A," Kanzaki continued.
"Ugh…" Watanabe groaned in frustration. "I hate this. I really don't want either of them to win. But if I have to pick, I'd rather see Class C take it."
The situation was clear, leaving no room for denial. Yet, despite this, Hikigaya found himself puzzled. From what Ichinose and others had explained, identifying how the school selects the VIPs required discovering the identities of at least two. Cooperation between the two classes seemed essential.
But with only three groups remaining, it became evident that this was a solo effort by one class—otherwise, an alliance would have been impossible to break. Could there have been a traitor? Hikigaya mused.
And not just any traitor—a high-ranking one who could access the identities of their class's preferential recipients.
His pulse quickened. The thought of internal strife brewing within the other classes was undeniably thrilling. But still, he wasn't too invested. After all, it couldn't possibly involve Class B. That would ruin the fun.
Hikigaya pondered for a moment. A traitor in Class A? Unlikely. Since the uninhabited island test, Katsuragi's leadership style had become more restrained—clearly influenced by Sakayanagi. If a betrayal had occurred, Katsuragi would've likely placed the blame on the Sakayanagi faction.
Sakayanagi herself wouldn't resort to such clumsy tactics, either. Alienating Class A would undermine her own position. A traitor in Class C? Possible, given Ryuuen's authoritarian rule. But even then, leaking three VIPs simultaneously? It seemed improbable that Ryuuen would allow that kind of vulnerability.
Class D is unlikely. They were already at the bottom. Betraying the class would provide no benefit unless it involved a significant trade of personal points—or an irrational move by someone with nothing to lose. Hikigaya sighed. He'd thought it over thoroughly but arrived at no definitive answer. Shrugging, he turned his attention back to the puzzle game on his phone, clearing another level.
"If they were being cautious," Kanzaki interjected, "then delaying until now makes sense. By waiting until the last moment, they ensured we wouldn't have enough time to analyze their actions or counter them."
"That makes sense," Watanabe agreed with a frown. "Still, it feels so calculated."
"Well, of course," Kanzaki replied. "The other classes aren't fools. They wouldn't leave such an obvious loophole."
As the clock approached midnight, the final results arrived via email.
Rat: Because of a traitor's correct answer, the result is three.
Pig: Because of a traitor's correct answer, the result is three.
The messages confirmed it. The betrayal wasn't just speculation—it was a fact. Hikigaya didn't bother to look, so he just clicked on it.