It was said that men usually took about three to five wives over the course of their lives.

Given the global male-to-female ratio of one to two hundred, no more than three percent of women would ever be united with a man, even in the most generous estimate.

At Shirayuki Academy, where the ratio was closer to one to thirty, only around ten to twenty percent of the girls ever succeeded in forming a pairing.

That was why girls formed factions—noble houses banding together to monopolize the few men available.

They would introduce any man they knew to other girls in their faction, while excluding every girl outside it.

That was what “friendship” meant at Shirayuki Academy.

The three transfer students who had joined that morning were clearly part of a single faction, and to the existing girls in the class, they were unmistakably enemies.

“Now then,” said the teacher, “let’s start by choosing a class representative. Does anyone wish to volunteer?”

Four hands went up.

One belonged to Isshiki Shizuku.

The other three were the new transfers.

“Anyone else?”

The teacher’s gaze made a slow circle around the classroom. No one else raised their hand. The girls of Class K merely watched in silence, trying to read the room.

The four volunteers all wore confident expressions. Shizuku’s smile was calm but carried a quiet intensity, while the three new girls exchanged knowing glances, standing tall as if everything had been decided in advance.

“Then we’ll hold a vote among the four of you. It’ll be anonymous—please write the name of your choice on the slip.”

The teacher began handing out paper.

Aihara Yura took hers, tightening her grip as she thought it through.

If Isshiki Shizuku became representative, her influence would grow stronger. If one of the newcomers—Sakura Sanae, Shinonome Yukari, or Gobai Miya—was chosen, their faction’s power would surge instead.

If that group gains influence, there won’t be any room left for the rest of us.

Without hesitation, Yura wrote Shizuku’s name.

As the eldest daughter of the Isshiki family—one of the Shikoku Eighteen Houses—Shizuku already wielded plenty of influence. Becoming class representative wouldn’t change that. What mattered was stopping the others.

The voting ended quickly, and the teacher began counting. The room grew still, every girl glancing cautiously at the next.

“The results are as follows: Isshiki Shizuku, twelve votes. Sakura Sanae, one. Shinonome Yukari, two. Gobai Miya, one. The rest are blank. Therefore, Isshiki Shizuku will serve as class representative.”

A sigh of relief spread through the class.

Shizuku rose gracefully and bowed.

“Thank you, everyone. I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations. If you ever have any concerns, please don’t hesitate to tell me.”

The three newcomers didn’t look the least bit upset by their defeat. They must have expected this.

Yura quietly exhaled, though she quickly straightened her posture as the atmosphere shifted again.

Once the representative was chosen, the teacher moved on to other committee roles—vice representative, beautification, athletics, and so on. More girls volunteered, and eventually Shinonome Yukari was selected as vice representative.

Yura never managed to raise her hand once.

When first period ended, a short break began.

Mizuki remained seated, flipping through his brand-new textbooks.

Isshiki Shizuku approached first, her tone soft and composed.

“Toudou-sama, as class representative, may I make a suggestion? I was thinking of setting up a class group chat on Messenger.”

“That sounds useful,” Mizuki replied with a small smile. “Would you mind handling it?”

“Of course. I’ll invite everyone before the end of the day.”

At that, Shinonome Yukari spoke up with a bright, cheerful tone.

“My, I’m glad we left the position to Isshiki-san. She seems so comfortable talking to men.”

“Indeed. I suppose she must have had plenty of practice in middle school. How dependable.”

“The Isshiki family must have many men around them, after all. The way she so casually asked for his contact information—very impressive.”

Their voices sounded polite, but every word dripped with implication.

Yura couldn’t help but feel impressed. So this is how they fight.

“I actually came up from Shirayuki’s middle division,” Shizuku replied lightly. “Unfortunately, it was girls-only, so Toudou-sama is my first such experience. I might look calm, but I’m actually quite nervous.”

Her playful tone diffused the tension at once, and the others fell silent.

If someone like me had volunteered, I’d have been crushed instantly.

Yura was starting to understand how this academy really worked.

Girls from weaker families couldn’t move carelessly. They had to read the situation carefully—or find allies.

Isshiki-san really is amazing.

Yura let out a small breath as she looked at Shizuku, who maintained that perfectly composed smile.

Her half-up black hair was neatly cared for, her makeup minimal yet modern.

Even from another girl’s perspective, she was stunning—beautiful, self-possessed, and brave enough to stand alone against everyone else.

Having transferred from Class A on her own, Shizuku had no entourage to back her up.

It must be girls like her who end up with the men.

Even if the Aihara family had higher standing, Yura knew she could never match that kind of strength.

All I can do is sit quietly by the window and try not to stand out.

Surely most of the girls in the class felt the same way.

No one spoke. The classroom had fallen completely silent.

Then, someone unexpected broke it.

“The next class is math, right? I wonder if high school math’s going to be hard.”

Mizuki spoke casually, flipping another page.

“Is everyone good at math? I’m a little worried about it.”

The tension that had lingered in the air instantly dissolved.

Kaminari Nene, sitting beside him, blurted out first.

“M-me too! I’m terrible at it!”

“I’m worried about keeping up.”

“I could help a little, maybe…”

“Math’s my best subject! Ask me anything!”

One by one, the quiet girls started joining the conversation.

“Oh, so some of you are good at it,” Mizuki said warmly. “Maybe we can form study groups later. It’d be nice to help each other out.”

Yura couldn’t take her eyes off his gentle expression.

In that stifling classroom, the air around him alone felt light and peaceful.

“Thank you, Isshiki-san,” Mizuki added. “It’s a huge help when someone takes initiative. If you ever have other ideas, please don’t hesitate to bring them up.”

“Y-yes! I’ll do everything I can as class representative!”

“I really appreciate it. Anyone can complain from the sidelines, but actually stepping up to do something—that’s the hardest part.”

It was clear Mizuki was defending her, cutting off any chance for the others to isolate her.

Standing beside him, Shizuku blushed faintly, smiling in a way that was softer and more genuine than before.

Yura felt something dark stir within her.

Moments ago, she’d admired Isshiki Shizuku. But now, another emotion began to swell inside her.

Shizuku had greeted everyone kindly, volunteered as class representative, set up a class group chat, stood her ground alone, and handled veiled hostility with grace worthy of her family name.

And yet—

Yura couldn’t help but feel it.

She couldn’t stop herself from thinking it.

She was jealous.