COTE : Oh No, I've Become the Substitute

The twilight slowly rose from the horizon of the sea, wrapping the entire island in a gentle yet irresistible embrace.

The dazzling azure sea and silver sands of the day sank into shadow. The sound of the waves became low and distinct, rhythmically lapping against the shore, like the breathing of the island before it fell into slumber.

On a deserted island somewhere in the Pacific, within the deepening ink-blue darkness, a cluster of orange-red flames suddenly leaped upward. Crackling and popping, it rapidly swelled and grew.

At the center of the sandy beach, a great bonfire built from driftwood and dried branches was lit. Like a small, vibrant sun suddenly ignited, it tore through the island's darkness in an instant.

Not far from the bonfire, in a spot safely shielded from blowing sand, several tables from the wooden hut had been pushed together. They were covered with makeshift tableware fashioned from washed leaves.

A flock of lively young women were each deploying their own specialties, pouring every ounce of their skill into preparing the robust goat before them.

From time to time, a few boys would emerge from the forest, carrying scavenged firewood, or hauling freshly drawn spring water, or bringing tools and ingredients fetched from their respective camps.

Diagonally across from the makeshift kitchen, a scattering of Class B students stood alongside the main groups from Class A and Class C. All wore grave expressions as they watched the duel unfolding between the two figures seated on the ground.

Ryuen Kakeru sneered at the bald man across from him, his face heavy and dark. He looked utterly certain of victory. "Katsuragi! One round, winner takes all. That goat head is mine. No one can stop me. I said so!"

"That's not guaranteed." The firelight illuminated Katsuragi Kohei's somewhat grim face. "Who wins and who loses—no one knows until the very last moment."

"Bullshit!"

Ryuen let out a fierce roar. His palm rose high, then came crashing down with tremendous force.

"Pair of Queens!"

"Pair of Twos!"

"Rocket!"

After a wordless silence, Katsuragi Kohei's somewhat pained voice drifted across the sand. "Pass..."

"Consecutive pairs!"

"Pass..."

"Straight!"

"Pass..."

"A single three. I'm out!"

Ryuen threw his head back and laughed with wild abandon, unleashing the most exhilarated sound he had made since enrolling. "Ha ha ha! Katsuragi, you're nothing special after all! According to our agreement, the extra goat head is mine."

"Whoa!" The Ryuen underlings behind him erupted in cheers. "Ryuen-aniki, you really are the strongest!"

On the other side, the defeated Class A students gathered around Katsuragi Kohei and began heckling him mercilessly.

"Lame~ Katsuragi, you've embarrassed our Class A! Losing to that bastard Ryuen—how can you still call yourself the leader of Class A?"

Katsuragi Kohei, from a poor family and rarely playing cards, covered his face in shame. For a moment, he had absolutely no words to retort.

That delinquent Ryuen had definitely played a ton of cards back in middle school. Why else could he predict every single card he played?

Damn it. If only he'd called over that guy in Class A who was the best at cards. For reasons unknown, whenever the Class A students played cards with him, that guy had never lost once. Every time, Katsuragi suspected he was cheating.

"..."

As everyone knew, Fight the Landlord required three people. And as the third player, Kanzaki Ryuji looked at the two class leaders from A and C, who were playing solely against each other and completely ignoring him. Then he looked at the three bombs still remaining in his hand. With immense exasperation, he directed a look of pure contempt at these two childish individuals.

That iconic, piercing laughter cut through the crackling of the bonfire and carried clearly to the food preparation area. However, at this moment, everyone's attention there was focused on another person.

"Smack!"

The best card player in Class A had one hand on each, half-crouching down as he grasped the fair, tender palms of Shiraishi Asuka and Yamamura Miki, who were preparing dinner nearby. His face filled with sorrow, he said.

"Miki, Asuka... if someone doesn't have the culinary spirit root... can they really not cook?"

Yamamura Miki and Shiraishi Asuka both paused simultaneously. They recalled that day when Fuyuji Mikage had eagerly invited them to sample his cooking, and the indescribable taste that had followed...

The two of them, by unspoken agreement, revealed gentle smiles. Raising their free hands, they stroked his hair.

"Um... just leave it to me. I'll make it really delicious."

"That's right. Come to think of it, Fuyuji still hasn't eaten a meal I've cooked for you. Let me handle it this time."

"But..." He felt his culinary skills could still be salvaged. If only he could absorb their cooking experience right here, he would surely be able to pick it up quickly.

Fuyuji Mikage opened his mouth, wanting to say more, but Ichinose placed both hands on his shoulders and half-pushed, half-coaxed him away from the makeshift kitchen area.

"Fuyuji-kun, that won't do. Right now, the kitchen is a battlefield for girls. You can't just barge in like that."

"But..." Fuyuji Mikage still refused to give up. "I still want to try."

"Alright, alright. Leave it to us. Tell me everything you want to eat and I'll make it all for you. Besides, Fuyuji-kun hasn't tried my cooking yet either." Ichinose Honami's voice carried a note of eager anticipation.

And so, the rising star of the dark culinary world was jointly snuffed out by three women.

"Damn it!"

Fuyuji Mikage indignantly kicked at the sand, sending it scattering. His gaze, brimming with resentment, began to roam among the figures leaping and dancing around the bonfire.

This was probably the first time the entire first year had gathered together so boisterously. Beside the bonfire, quite a few students from different classes had already clustered in small groups, chatting and laughing with one another.

With such a perfect opportunity to foster camaraderie, Fuyuji Mikage naturally refused to be left behind. He immediately sought out those familiar faces in the crowd and, with extreme familiarity, initiated friendly exchanges (social retaliation) with students from other classes.

"Yo~ Hisashiburi, dear Kanzaki-san! You were also just— Ah, don't run off so fast! I still wanted you to introduce me to your Class B classmates!"

"..." Shove off. I don't know you! And they want to know you even less.

Kanzaki Ryuji, his face covered in black lines, shut his mouth and silently moved his feet, distancing himself from Fuyuji Mikage's harassment.

...

"Hey, man! Why do you wear your sunglasses even during the deserted island exam? Could it be that beneath those shades, you're hiding a pair of big, sparkly, moe-moe eyes?"

Yamada Albert, of mixed black heritage, was utterly baffled by this strange form of greeting. A bead of cold sweat trickled down his dark forehead. Still, the gentle-natured Albert gave Fuyuji Mikage a concise reply.

"NO! Good bye!"

...

"Eh? Isn't this Shiranami-san? Why haven't I seen you these past few days? Has your illness gotten better? Are you looking for Ichinose? She's over there cooking. Ah~ I wanted to go in and help, but somehow they ended up offering to cook for me and shooed me out."

"#!"

Shiranami Chihiro's small mouth crumpled into a pout. She silently clenched her little fists.

She hadn't eaten a properly cooked meal by Ichinose either. She wanted to eat some too!

She was so frustrated. If it weren't for the rule that attacking students from other classes was forbidden during the special exam, she'd really love to jump up and sock him twice.

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