In the morning, when Toudou Mizuki headed for the classroom, he found several staff members hustling about, hauling in desks.

The girls who’d arrived early had clustered in the hallway to stay out of the way.

“…What’s going on?”

“Good morning! Um, it sounds like there were a ton of class transfer requests.”

“I thought it was just Houjou-san…”

He recalled the girls trailing behind Houjou Noa yesterday.

Apparently, all of them had filed to transfer into Class K as well.

“…That’s… a lot.”

“Will all those desks even fit?”

Maybe because the building dated back to the Meiji era, the rooms were a bit larger than the modern classrooms Mizuki had known in elementary and middle school.

Even so, peeking in from the hall, it was clear the staff were struggling with the arrangement. The homeroom teacher was pitching in too.

“Morning,” said a voice.

Mizuki turned to find Houjou Noa there—with yesterday’s entourage lined up behind her.

“I thought you were the only one coming to Class K,” Mizuki said.

“There’s a proper reason for this,” Noa replied, stepping closer and, quite naturally, taking up the spot right beside him.

“Not many people know this, but a class is capped at forty-six students. Which means… we’re about to hit the limit.”

“That’s kind of an odd number.”

“It’s based on CO₂ concentration. Any more and people start getting sleepy from lack of oxygen.”

More classmates trickled in as they spoke, all of them looking bewildered by the scene.

“Also, we’re classmates now. Drop the honorifics,” Noa added.

“Uh—right. Okay.”

“Heh. That sounds much better—closer, somehow. Anyway, about the enrollment cap.”

Perhaps reminded by the oxygen comment, Noa slid open the hallway windows.

Her shoulder-length black hair lifted in the spring breeze.

For a second, Mizuki found himself staring at her profile.

“As things stand, anyone can jump to Class K without effort. There’s a real possibility that, say, all of Class J could pile in at once. We needed to act fast.”

“And so you… did all this in one go?”

“Sorry for the commotion first thing in the morning.”

Inside, the staff were still wrestling with the great desk puzzle.

“This’ll take a while. You all—come here,” Noa said, beckoning her followers.

Mizuki, who had been leaning lightly against the window-side rail, found himself half-encircled.

“I prepared this for you. What do you think? I tried to assemble a… variety,” she said.

“…Huh?”

When he tilted his head, not catching the intent, Noa smiled with a faint, mischievous glint.

“If there’s someone you like, feel free to make use of her. No need to take her as a wife. I’ve chosen only girls who are fine with that.”

“Uh—”

He couldn’t help glancing at the girls around him.

They were all strikingly pretty.

“If you prefer them younger, I can look in the middle or elementary divisions. If older, I could bring a few from the upper grades, or even the university,” Noa continued.

“W-wait!”

“Oh, of course, if you like, I’d do as well. In my case you’d have to marry me, though.”

“C-could we not do this so suddenly?!”

“Mmm. That modesty is nice, too.”

With a teasing chuckle, Noa beckoned one more person over.

“This is Shinonome Yukari. You already know her—I sent her ahead.”

“N-Noa-sama…”

Noa suddenly slipped an arm around Yukari’s shoulders and drew her close.

“If you take me as your wife, I’d like you to take her as well.”

“…I—would consider it,” Mizuki managed.

“She cries sweetly. She’s adorable.”

“Noa-sama!”

From their interaction, Mizuki pieced together the nature of their relationship—and felt distinctly awkward.

In neither world he remembered had he ever heard of someone marrying their lover’s lover along with them.

“Ah, looks like they’re finally done.”

The old-fashioned chime rang just as the staff stepped out.

“Shall we?” Noa said.

Yet she didn’t move.

Allowing the flow of girls to carry him toward the room, Mizuki glanced back at the last moment and caught a glimpse of Noa speaking with Isshiki Shizuku, just the two of them.

◇◆◇

“Alright, let’s review middle school material first.”

During class, Kaminari Nene was completely elsewhere.

It was only the third day since the entrance ceremony.

The pace of change was dizzying, and she couldn’t keep up.

“Monarchy. You all know this from games and manga, yeah? In short, an evil king holds absolute power and monopolizes men. With modernization, most of them ended up at the chopping block,” the teacher said.

Soft laughter rippled through the room.

Feigning a smile, Nene gingerly snuck a look to her side.

The only boy in the class—Toudou Mizuki—sat right next to her, his profile perfectly composed.

“Next, Second Socialism. Currently, only the Soviet Union uses this system. All companies are state-owned, no market principles at all. They preach world revolution—turning the planet into one big socialist nation. Quite the bunch,” the teacher droned on.

This morning, Houjou Noa had brought eleven attendants.

With that, Class K had hit maximum capacity, and the desks now touched side to side.

A faint, pleasant scent drifted from Mizuki, and Nene quietly sniffed, hoping no one would notice.

“Multi-party democracy. That’s the system used by the British Empire and the American Empire. There are multiple political parties. What does that lead to?”

Hands shot up across the room.

Nene hurriedly raised hers as well.

“Alright, Aihara.”

“Division and stagnation are inevitable!”

“Full marks. This shows up on high school exams without fail. Introduce market logic into politics and you get conflicting ideologies, political paralysis—an absolute lemon of a system. In the worst case, it even devolves into civil war.”

Since morning, a tense, uneasy mood had hovered over the class.

With fifteen of the forty-six seats now tied to Houjou Noa’s faction, everyone was showing signs of urgency.

“Now, single-party democracy—our national system. Isshiki, the advantages?”

“By unifying under one party, it prevents division. During elections, the party is divided into multiple lists for voting, enabling democratic administration.”

“Correct. The perfected form of democracy, you might say. And why is it perfect? That brings us to the concept of ‘ordered rationality.’”

Nene watched Isshiki Shizuku answer smoothly, one point after another.

Until Noa arrived, Shizuku had been the most influential figure in Class K.

Transferred in from Class A on day one, eldest daughter of a Shikoku Eighteen House, exceptionally beautiful, and elected class representative.

By rights, she should have been the most anxious about Noa’s sudden power bloc. Yet she sat with the same serene composure as ever.

“Ordered rationality means managing order rationally—just like the name says. You wouldn’t use nuclear weapons to get rid of rats, right? That wouldn’t be rational.”

Only Isshiki Shizuku could counter Houjou Noa, Nene thought.

She expected Shizuku to rally a major faction immediately.

For a common-born girl like Nene to survive this class struggle, she would need to align with Shizuku’s coalition at the right moment.

But Shizuku made no such moves.

“In other words, we find compromises—pragmatic landing points. Shirayuki Academy is built on the same logic. The shogunate’s monopoly over men had ‘order’ in terms of resource management, but it violated the vast majority of women’s freedom in love—so it lacked rationality. The great Restoration’s liberation movement brought ordered rationality, leading to our current system. Work hard and any girl can choose a man. Work hard and any man can be with a high-level woman. Equal opportunity, yeah?”

What is she planning? Nene could only puzzle over it.

The girls of Class K had been waiting for Isshiki Shizuku to make her move.

Yet Shizuku hadn’t even bothered to form basic friendships.

“After much thought by very smart people, our nation tops the global index for ordered rationality. Single-party democracy and ordered rationality—these two pillars support our highly controlled society. This will be on your university entrance exams, guaranteed.”

The social studies teacher slowly swept his gaze across the room.

“If you want to learn more about ordered rationality, ask your classmates from the Eighteen Houses. This is a rare chance. It’s not every day you can hear firsthand how expertly the Party governs under such rational order.”

Every eye turned toward Houjou Noa and Isshiki Shizuku.

One girl smiled with the ease of someone backed by a large faction; the other sat straight-backed, keeping everyone at arm’s length.

They were total opposites—and yet a thought struck Nene.

For some reason, the one who still hadn’t made a move—Isshiki Shizuku—felt more like the ruler.

◇◆◇

The lunch bell rang.

“External students—make sure you prep thoroughly. Internal students are already ahead,” the teacher said, leaving the room.

The moment he was gone, the class erupted in noise.

In the suddenly cramped room, the girls all rose at once to crowd around Mizuki.

Nene silently thanked her luck for the seat beside him and took out her bento.

“Mizuki-sama, are you having a packed lunch again today?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of trying the cafeteria tomorrow, just to see.”

Word had spread over the past three days that Mizuki brought lunch from home. Not a single girl headed for the cafeteria anymore.

“You make it yourself, right? That’s wonderful!”

“It’s just simple stuff… so don’t look too closely. It’s a little embarrassing.”

With a sheepish smile, Mizuki stood.

“Sorry, I’m going to run to the restroom first.”

“Yes!”

The human wall parted at once.

As Mizuki stepped out, a hush fell over the classroom.

“Yukari,” said Houjou Noa, suddenly.

“Go to the office and ask them to lock the windows.”

“Yes,” Shinonome Yukari replied, and darted out.

The command had been small and businesslike.

While several girls exchanged uncertain looks, a chair scraped sharply against the floor.

Every gaze snapped toward the sound.

Standing outside the circle, Isshiki Shizuku rose slowly to her feet.

“All girls will remain here after school.”

Her voice was quiet.

And yet it brooked no refusal.

“We will hold a class assembly.”