---
If St. Lucia's Institute had a national treasure, it wouldn't be the library or the ancient cherry tree in the courtyard.
It would be Saeko Yuzuki.
The girl who knows everything — and everyone.
A walking tabloid dressed in silk and smiles.
---
She's not just popular.
She's inevitable.
Admired by the students, feared by the powerful, and tolerated by the Student Council — not out of kindness, but necessity.
---
She's charming. She's cunning. She's chaos with a signature perfume.
The heir to a sprawling publishing empire, Saeko was born with a press badge and a dangerously sharp pen.
Her online presence is infamous, her articles legendary, and her uncanny knowledge of student affairs? Unmatched.
Want to know who's sneaking off with who?
Why the fencing team canceled practice last Friday?
Which dorm hallway mysteriously lost power during Tea Ceremony night?
Ask Saeko — or better yet, wait.
She's probably about to publish something more interesting than the truth.
---
> "I'm not a threat, darling.
I'm just the one holding the flashlight when the skeletons fall out of the closet."
---
She leads the Newspaper Club, a tight operation with fewer writers than most clubs but ten times the impact.
To most students, she's entertainment — scandalous, magnetic, and never boring.
To the administration?
A "PR asset with boundary issues."
To the Student Council?
A ticking time bomb with lip gloss and a legal pad.
---
Yukiko Saionji, the Primrose Union's student council president, is the only person who's ever successfully put Saeko in her place — and kept her there.
Sometimes with a look.
Sometimes with a veiled threat wrapped in elegance.
And once, with a single sentence whispered during a school assembly that Saeko still refuses to print.
> "She smiles like a queen," Saeko once said of Yukiko.
"But her words are like wire. Soft… until they cut."
---
Then there's the other shadow in her orbit — an anonymous Iris House student whose identity remains unconfirmed.
Faction B swears they don't know them.
Faction A suspects blackmail.
The truth? Only Saeko knows.
But once, when a prefect cornered her about an article too close to home, she simply tilted her head and said:
> "You might want to ask West Wing's night shift who let me in."
"...Or don't. It won't change the story."
That prefect never questioned her again.
---
The Student Council keeps her close.
Not out of favor — out of strategy.
Yukiko once phrased it best:
> "She's a wildfire. You don't banish her — you contain her. If you can."
---
She is liked. Respected. Uncontrollable.
Everyone wants to stay on her good side.
No one is entirely sure she has one.
---
Beside her is Mika Komori, a first-year assistant who joined thinking she'd be writing poetry and book reviews.
Now she's knee-deep in rumors, event leaks, and 2 a.m. print deadlines.
Mika tries to be her moral compass.
Saeko just spins the needle and prints the map upside down.
---
If you see her watching you from the stairwell, don't panic.
Unless you're hiding something.
In that case…
Smile. You're probably already the next headline.
-----
Most students had cleared out. The courtyard was calm now — golden sunlight filtering through the leaves, petals floating down like confetti from a party long over.
Saki sank into the bench beneath the cherry tree. The one that somehow, quietly, without ever being discussed, had become their spot.
She tilted her head back, soaking in the silence.
> "Hmmm. Interesting choice of venue,"
said a voice that didn't belong.
Saki jolted.
Standing beside her was a girl she didn't recognize — not fully. Though now that she looked closer… she might've seen her once or twice near the newspaper bulletin board. Maybe.
Long hair, curled just right. That perfect Primrose posture. Holding a heart-shaped lollipop like it was a microphone.
But her smile? All mischief.
> "I've been following your... story arc," the girl said, eyes glinting. "You're a fascinating main character, Morishita-san."
> "...I'm sorry, do I know you?"
> "Not yet. But I know you." She crouched slightly to meet Saki's eyes, voice dipping into a whisper. "And I know her."
A lollipop tap on the bench. A slow grin.
> "She smiled at you again today."
Saki blinked. "Wait. What—?"
> "Relax," the girl sang. "I'm just an observer. A curator of chaos. A connoisseur of things that make school life deliciously messy."
She stood, gave a theatrical little twirl, and began to walk away.
> "By the way, your handwriting's cute when you're trying to hide a note."
> "WHAT NOTE?!"
But the girl was already gone.
Saki stared after her, baffled.
> "Seriously, what just happened…?"
---
Just then, familiar footsteps approached.
Gentler. Softer. Like a rhythm her heart had already memorized.
> "Hey," Airi said with that quiet warmth that always made Saki's brain short-circuit for half a second.
> "Oh—hey! You're early."
> "I could say the same to you," Airi replied with a little smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I thought you'd avoid the courtyard after what happened."
> "I tried. But my legs ignored me."
They laughed quietly.
Saki looked at her—really looked—and felt that skip again. That now-familiar breathless flutter.
Airi sat beside her, the space between them smaller than usual. Their shoulders didn't touch, but the air felt charged.
> "You okay?" Airi asked. "You looked a little rattled from over there."
> "Some Primrose girl with a notepad just attacked me with… riddles and candy."
Airi blinked. Then smiled, knowing immediately.
> "Caramel curls? Dramatic aura? Spoke like she was filming a documentary?"
> "Yes! I think she tried to narrate my life."
> "That's Saeko Yuzuki."
Saki froze. "Wait. The Saeko?!"
Airi nodded. "Head of the Newspaper Club. Some say she runs the school's gossip circuit. Others think she is the circuit."
> "Oh my god."
> "Yeah. Be flattered. She doesn't usually waste time on first-years."
Saki slumped. "I think I've been marked."
> "Probably." Airi chuckled.
Their eyes met again. A beat passed. Then Airi glanced down, fiddling with her sleeve.
> "...I'm glad I saw you."
Saki smiled, the words hitting somewhere soft.
> "Me too."
They lingered like that for a moment — light breeze, soft smiles, everything slowing down—
Until they heard it:
> "SAKI MORISHITA!!"
Enter: Riku. Sprinting across the courtyard like a cat with a firecracker.
> "The Bench War isn't over!! Chihiro said to evacuate you before phase two!"
From the opposite side:
> "Airi, there you are!" one of her classmates called. "Come on, it's not safe here! They're arguing with tree branches again!"
Saki and Airi looked at each other. Their shared moment split by chaos.
> "Go," Airi said softly.
> "You too."
They stood up reluctantly, already being tugged in opposite directions.
> "See you tomorrow?" Saki called over Riku's shoulder.
Airi turned briefly.
> "I'll be here."
---
[Meanwhile: The Top Floor Balcony – Overlooking the Courtyard]
Saeko leaned against the railing, lollipop in her mouth, notebook open to a blank page. Mika stood beside her, blinking at the scene below.
> "You're interested in those two now?" Mika asked.
Saeko smiled, eyes narrowed like a hunter spotting her next favorite prey.
> "Cross-faction flirtation, quiet exchanges under threat of war, an oblivious protagonist with no idea she's being watched…"
She popped the lollipop from her mouth.
> "Darling, the plot is finally getting good."
,--