Side conversation: The graduation exam of Akatsuki

Akatsuki Sumeragi became a second lieutenant and was appointed Captain of the destroyer *Momo-hama*.

From now on, he would be in charge of subordinates, though in reality he remained dependent on support from the other officers aboard the ship.

He managed duties with the assistance of the executive officer and communicated daily with each crew member.

Akatsuki possessed a relatively sound sensibility among the imperial family, and thus generally received a favorable impression from the crew.

However, as the youngest among the crew, he was treated more as a mascot due to his appearance than as a Captain to be respected.

In short, while nearly every crew member treated him warmly, they often underestimated his capabilities.

Perhaps due to this treatment, one crew member made a request to Akatsuki during casual conversation.

"Captain Akatsuki. Would you care to show us your skill with the strategy board?"

The crew member produced a portable electronic strategy board with a simplified system.

Each side was given an equal number of units of the same ship class. Players arranged their forces freely on the board before beginning fleet combat.

Akatsuki showed slight surprise at the offer, but considered it a good opportunity for crew interaction. He accepted the challenge.

As Akatsuki arranged his forces on the strategy board, the crew member who had challenged him turned a sly expression toward him.

"Shall we place a wager on the outcome?"

"Under duty regulations, I cannot overlook exchanges of value based on game results."

Akatsuki fixed the crew member with a stern expression. The crew member shrugged, saying "Scary, scary."

No, no, not at all. I just wonder if you could adjust my duty shift a little.

Are you short on rest days?

No, no. But still. While everyone else is working hard, I can't help but want a chance to take an open day off. Could you, Captain, grant that wish with your authority?

The crew member’s selfish request did not show on Akatsuki’s face, but he was exasperated.

"If that’s the case, let’s gamble."

"You’re serious?"

"Yes. If you win, I’ll take your shift for one day. I’ve been trained in all basic ship duties, so I can manage one day without issue."

"That’s fair. Then—"

"But if you lose, you’ll work through your next day off. If you’re willing, then let’s make the bet."

The crew member merely smirked at Akatsuki’s additional conditions.

"Fine by me. Come on, let’s do this."

The crew member accepted the terms without hesitation, as if confident in their skill. The strategic board engagement between Akatsuki and the crew member began.

The board engagement concluded in thirty minutes.

Akatsuki was the victor.

"S-such a thing… impossible…"

The crew member stared at the board, disbelief etched across their face.

No matter how closely they examined it, their loss was final.

Meanwhile, Akatsuki smiled warmly.

"As agreed, your next day off is canceled. Lieutenant Commander. Please reassign their shift schedule?"

The Lieutenant Commander nodded reluctantly and immediately replaced the crew member’s day off with duty.

After finishing the task, Akatsuki forms words to the crew member, who stands dazed.

"You were unusually confident. Because you knew when the space current would occur, during the match?"

When Akatsuki points out the fraud, the crew member grimaces.

"Indeed. From the start of the match, your fleet maneuvers were irregular. I suspected as much. Though, your irregular movements heightened alertness, which allowed us to pass through the space current without damage."

The crew member, facing Akatsuki's explanation, shows shock.

"You saw through our trap?"

"My friend, while attending the Officer Academy, had to handle strategy boards like this. Such setups were routine. I've observed them for years. I know how to counter them."

Speaking in a tone that suggested otherwise, the副艦長 hesitantly asked.

"Your Highness—was Lieutenant Akatsuki's friend mistreated at the Officer Academy?"

"To put it plainly, yes. He was targeted by noble-aligned instructors because, despite being a commoner from an orphanage, he had outstanding academic results."

"Could you tell me exactly what was done?"

"Very well. Let me use the strategy board during the graduation exam as an example."

Akatsuki spoke with a look of pride, recounting events from that time.

The strategy board used in the graduation exam was not the simplified version Akatsuki had used aboard the destroyer *Momo-hama*—it was the full version.

The full version requires the player to independently manage logistics and fleet movement to the battlefield, in addition to freely composing fleet composition by ship type and number. It is designed to test the essential skills of a fleet commander.

To support this functionality, the full strategy board occupies an entire large room.

During the Officer Academy graduation exam, students compete against each other using this massive device.

Each match lasts a minimum of one hour, up to five hours at maximum. The entire competition spans multiple days, demanding extreme mental and physical endurance.

Akatsuki examined the match schedule and narrowed his brows.

His name appeared in the first-round exemption seed bracket.

Even more troubling, the names of the opponents he would face in subsequent rounds were all from among the lower-performing peers in his cohort.

Obvious favoritism toward the royal family.

Akatsuki, inwardly furious at the instructors’ blatant favoritism, now searched the match roster for his friend—Dawson.

As expected, or perhaps not—was this far too much—Dawson had been paired from the outset against a student renowned for tactical skill.

Moreover, every opponent he would face after advancing would be among the top performers.

Akatsuki’s anger reached a peak. The stark contrast to his own situation left him unable to find a way to contain his fury.

At that moment, Dawson arrived to check the match roster.

"Dawson! You should protest this!"

Akatsuki voiced his outrage. Dawson’s expression shifted from surprise to mockery.

"What’s wrong? Just a lucky royal. Has the idiot prince’s idiocy worsened?"

“This isn’t the time for jokes. Look at this match schedule!”

Akatsuki pointed at the schedule, voice rising in frustration. Dawson remained expressionless.

“Nothing different from usual. Calm down.”

“This is the graduation exam! Your future depends on performance here! That’s why this kind of behavior can’t be tolerated!”

“Actually, I think it’s fine. The ones who should be complaining are the ones assigned to fight me.”

Akatsuki faltered, caught off guard.

Dawson chuckled at the confusion.

"That’s exactly right. Fighting anyone else would get you pretty far. But because it’s set up so you face me, you lose early. Your future prospects are crushed. You have every right to complain to the instructor."

"...Honestly. Still overconfident as ever."

Akatsuki was no longer worried. He was exasperated.

"But it’s not just about your opponent. The instructor is definitely setting traps to ensure Dawson loses. Keep that in mind."

"I don’t need warnings. I’m fully aware. I’ll turn those traps into advantages instead."

Dawson spoke as if it were obvious. Then he demonstrated it.

After winning his first match by physical strength, he used the various obstacles introduced in subsequent matches to gain an edge over his opponents and secured victory.

His method of victory appeared to crush the pride of those who relied on underhanded tactics, inciting fervor among both Akatsuki members and common-born cadets at the Officer Academy.

While Dawson was praised, cadets who lost their matches were reprimanded by instructors.

From the vantage point of the Akatsuki, the exact words could not be heard, but the look of hatred in the eyes of the defeated cadet made it clear they were being condemned as incompetent, even in a favoritism-driven environment.

Dawson continued to win.

Each victory brought increased interference from the instructors.

What began as systematic manipulation of the tactical board gradually evolved into off-board tactics.

The opponent attempted a strategy during the semifinal match against the noble family's offspring, beginning the battle earlier than the start time Dawson had been informed of, aiming to force Dawson's disqualification for arriving late.

Dawson, however, had anticipated such a move. He had arrived at the venue early on the day of the match, concealed in the spectator seats with provisions, prepared for battle at any moment.

Due to this preparation, the match between Dawson and the noble family's offspring began without delay.

Knowing the opponent would resort to off-board tactics, Dawson used the 'Full Band Communication (Open Channel)' function during the match, repeatedly provoking the opponent at every opportunity.

A coward who claims victory without fighting. A scoundrel who tried to buy victory by flattering the instructor. A disgrace to the ducal family who sullied their name with dishonorable tactics. And so on.

The barrage of insults mixed with facts caused the ducal offspring to lose control of trembling hands.

As a result, the strategy board was misoperated, creating an unfavorable situation on the board by their own actions.

Dawson already held an advantage in inherent strength. With the situation now also favoring him, the ducal offspring had no chance of winning.

The trap pre-set by the instructor also failed to affect Dawson. The ducal offspring were eliminated in the semifinals. In the subsequent third-place match, they lost against the earl’s heir. Whether due to the absence of improper manipulation—both were from noble houses—or because their spirit had broken after facing Dawson, their movements lacked precision and they were defeated.

The final match approached. Dawson, who had defeated numerous strong opponents, faced Akatsuki, who had advanced to the finals with ease due to favoritism from the instructors.

Akatsuki felt exhilarated at the prospect of fighting Dawson, a friend and worthy rival.

Yet, this exhilaration shattered as the instructors approached with words.

They said, 'We have applied every possible obstruction to Dawson. You may fight with peace of mind.'

Akatsuki felt ill at ease upon hearing this. However, the instructors warned that Akatsuki's family would be attending the final match, and blatant misconduct would cause negative perceptions from the imperial family.

Yet, this final match on the strategy board had originally been scheduled for the current Emperor’s attendance. Thus, the instructors had decided to cease off-board tactics and limit their interference to only the strategy board system.

And began teaching Akatsuki what to do. It was out of concern that Akatsuki should not fall into the trap.

The sheer number of disruptions to be carried out made Akatsuki dizzy. But then reconsidered—simply memorize everything and relay it to Dawson. That would solve the problem.

After separating from the instructors, Akatsuki found Dawson and opened his mouth to warn him.

"I need you to listen. The instructors will interfere with Dawson again this time. Details are inside the supply cargo—"

Before he could finish, Dawson clamped a hand over his mouth.

Akatsuki stared, surprised by the action. Dawson’s eyes were clearly narrowed.

"Hey, you idiot prince. When did I ever ask you to go easy on me? You send me useless information like this and think I’m a fool?"

Akatsuki removed his hand from his mouth and protested.

"That’s not it. I just wanted to fight you without dishonesty."

"Your principle is admirable, but you still look down on me. You couldn’t overcome the instructors’ interference, so you thought you’d teach me how to survive. That’s right—you’re just another noble who sees commoners as beneath you."

"No! That’s not what I meant!"

"I don’t want excuses. If you truly saw me as a friend, you’d have trusted that I could overcome the instructors’ interference on my own. You’d have fought me with everything you had in a real match. At the very least, I’d have done that if our positions were reversed."

Dawson shoved Akatsuki aside and walked ahead toward the strategy board.

Akatsuki stopped speaking mid-sentence, a faint smile forming on his lips.

"Perhaps the response I was taught to counter interference from my instructor was correct in general terms. But I failed to account for my friend's personality. That friend was a living embodiment of defiance. I should have realized that, no matter the reason, he would never accept pity from an opponent."

After Akatsuki's words of regret, the deputy captain hesitantly interjected.

"Midshipman Akatsuki, you were the top graduate of the Officer Academy, were you not? That means you defeated that friend of yours, correct?"

The weight of Akatsuki's regret deepened in his expression.

"No, I didn’t win. I was given the victory—though that’ll probably make Dawson angry again. Uh, because of my careless words, my friend stepped into one of the traps himself."

"Was it the Lieutenant Akatsuki’s words that caused it?"

"I just said it. I was about to tell the instructor’s sabotage details when I accidentally blurted out ‘in the supply cargo’ before my friend could cover my mouth. So my friend deliberately overlooked the trap hidden in the supply cargo. Because of that, the supplies were damaged. We couldn’t secure enough for the match."

"That’s quite a peculiar sense of principle, wouldn’t you say?"

The副艦長’s expression of dismay was clearly understandable to Akatsuki.

"I was equally stunned when I saw that uncharacteristic mistake from Dawson during the match. I realized, right then, why he'd done it—was he really trying to prove he didn’t need pity from his opponent?"

"Then, the destruction of the supply rations caused Lieutenant Akatsuki to lose to her friend?"

Akatsuki burst into laughter at the副艦長's question.

"Fufu. My friend wasn't that kind of opponent. He managed to stretch his limited supplies just enough to prepare, not perfectly, but sufficiently for combat. The fleet battle that followed was truly even—so even the slightest lapse in focus would have meant defeat. He made me understand that, clearly."

"Was it really that serious?"

The battle intensified and lasted for an extended duration. The strategic board's maximum operation setting—five hours—was approaching. Just as I was preparing for a time-out, my friend began moving the fleet in an unusual manner. Gradually shifting away from the combat zone, it appeared as though they were retreating.

Could that action have been a trap?

I thought the same. I did not pursue. Instead, I reorganized the fleet. To be ready in case Dawson launched a second attack, knowing I would not fall into a trap.

Once the fleet reorganization was complete, the strategic board signaled the end of the match. The winner was Akatsuki.

I did not understand. I suspected the instructor had interfered again.

So it was not the instructor, then?

"Actually, Dawson pressed the surrender button. That's why I won."

"Surrender, sir? From what I've heard, I couldn't imagine your friend doing such a thing."

"I thought the same at first. But after seeing the status of both fleets displayed post-combat, I understood. My friend's fleet had almost no supplies left. They were on the verge of being completely empty if another battle had occurred."

"Yet supplies remained, did they not? Then why surrender without fighting?"

"That point became clear when I saw where my friend's fleet was positioned. It was at the edge of the combat zone. From there, they could have retreated safely, even with their remaining ships, by turning their backs. The distance was too great for my fleet to pursue and intercept."

“So your friend was attempting to withdraw the remaining fleet, leaving behind supplies?”

“Probably a move to preserve as much combat capability as possible, considering the next battlefield. But on the strategy board, withdrawal from a combat zone is an immediate defeat. So they halted their actions just before that point, signaled surrender, then pressed the surrender button.”

In the end, Akatsuki viewed the strategy board as a battlefield, while Dawson treated it as a rehearsal for actual fleet combat.

Even interference from the instructor was treated as an unexpected disaster—part of the rehearsal, a matter of anticipating and preparing for such disruptions.

That was why Akatsuki became angry when Dawson tried to warn them. A disaster’s outcome cannot be known in advance.

"I won the strategic board game because my friend conceded, but the battlefield assessment ended in a draw. I even think my friend was tactically superior—having planned for retreat from the start."

"Which is why you still believe you were given the victory."

"My friend believes I let him take the win in the actual contest, in exchange for the victory in the test."

Akatsuki spoke with quiet reflection, then lifted the simplified strategy board he had used earlier.

"Alright, my part is finished. Anyone else want to fight?"

Akatsuki called out cheerfully, but his tone sounded like an invitation to fight in place of his friend. No crew member raised a hand to volunteer.