Classroom of the Elite: Free Will

V8: Chapter 5 - Old Maid

Akabane Karma POV

There was about one hour left until ten o'clock, which was lights-out time. None of us really had anything to talk about, so we sat around in our shared room in silence.

Breaking the ice was proving to be surprisingly difficult. Mainly between me, Koenji and the others, since the two of us had been marginalised because of our haughty attitude. So, most of the time, they chatted among themselves without our intervention.

A knock came at the door. Apparently we had a visitor.

"Who could that be?"

Everyone looked perplexed.

"Maybe it's a teacher," said one of my classmates disinterestedly.

That was certainly a possibility. I got up, went to the door, and asked who it was. The answer was surprising.

"Are you still awake?"

"Nagumo? Is something wrong?" I asked, confused by this sudden visit.

"I came to check on you since we're in the same group. Can I come in?" asked Nagumo.

I let him in. Besides me, and probably Nao, there probably wasn't a single first-year student brave enough to refuse him openly. Apparently, Nagumo hadn't come alone. Mizowaki and two third-year students accompanied him: Class B students named Tsunoda and Ishikura.

Once inside, Nagumo scanned the room.

"It appears all the rooms are identical, senpai," he said to Ishikura with a grin.

"It looks like it. Now, how exactly do you plan to deepen our bonds of fellowship by bringing us to the first years' room?" asked Ishikura, giving me a brief glance.

"Well, since we don't have TV or computers or smartphones. There's nothing remotely resembling entertainment. But it's not like we have nothing to play with," said Nagumo, pulling a small box from his jersey pocket.

"Cards?"

"You're probably thinking, 'Cards, in this day and age?' Well, cards are a staple game at camps like this."

Nagumo sat down in a random spot, peeled the plastic tape from the sealed box, and opened it.

"Take a seat, senpai. Sorry first-years, but there isn't much space. You stay in your beds," said Nagumo as some of my classmates began to get up.

"I'm not playing," said Tsunoda. He turned his back to Nagumo.

"Come on, don't say that. Let's play. It might help us chat a bit more freely," said Nagumo.

Tsunoda stopped in his tracks, seemingly giving up, and took a seat.

Ishikura sat beside him.

"We should bet something to make the game more exciting. Any ideas?"

The first-year students, nervous in the presence of upper-classmen, said nothing. They didn't know how to address the student council president, and Nagumo, of course, had anticipated they would shrink back that way.

"We decided on the order in which people will make breakfast, right?" he said. "Let's bet on that. If, for example, you lose constantly, you'll be on meal duty until the end of camp. On the other hand, if you never lose, then you never have to cook breakfast."