Shimizu Akira strode down the dormitory hallway, the warm night breeze carrying the distant shouts of sports club members from the field.
"Horikita Manabu truly lives up to his reputation as student council president."
The image of those glinting glasses in the council office resurfaced in his mind.
Seated behind the broad desk, Horikita's gaze had been sharper than a scalpel—less about authority and more about that eerily calm demeanor, reminiscent of a certain animated commander.
Shimizu was almost grateful Horikita hadn't steepled his fingers; he might've bolted on instinct.
The negotiation had gone suspiciously smoothly.
Horikita seemed to read his mind, grasping full intentions from half-spoken sentences.
What Shimizu expected to take an hour wrapped up in under twenty minutes.
The biggest surprise? The terms.
He'd braced for a hefty point fee, only for Horikita to adjust his glasses and say:
"You owe me a favor."
Those unreadable eyes behind the lenses left Shimizu uneasy.
"This 'favor' feels like a trap..." He paused at the hallway's end, staring at the dorm lights.
Knowing Horikita, it wouldn't be unreasonable—but "not unreasonable" didn't mean "not troublesome."
The wind carried another burst of athletic cheers.
Shimizu chuckled, recalling Horikita Suzune's prickly demeanor.
(Siblings, yet worlds apart—one shrewd, the other tsundere incarnate.)
His phone buzzed—a message from Horikita Manabu himself.
They'd exchanged contacts post-meeting.
[Re: Today's discussion. Expect my answer by Thursday after school.]
[Shimizu, I have high expectations. Don't disappoint.]
[Perform well, and the vice presidency is yours before I graduate.]
Shimizu blinked at the screen.
(Efficient, as expected...)
But the last two lines made his brow furrow.
"Since when was I joining the student council?"
Shimizu:"President, zero interest in the council. Boxing club suits me fine."
Read.
No reply.
(Classic 'read-and-ignore.')
Horikita had dismissed his refusal outright.
"Stubborn, huh? Can't take 'no' for an answer?"
(Retracting my earlier thought—these siblings are equally troublesome.)
On impulse, he texted Suzune:
Shimizu:"You're definitely siblings."
Suzune:"? Are you... complimenting me?"
"She took that as praise?!"
Before he could mentally facepalm, his burner phone vibrated.
A message from Ichihōse Honami:
[Apologies, but we've uncovered the school's hidden rules. A 1M-point deal is unnecessary.]
This genuinely surprised him.
B Class had cracked the system within a day.
(Of course. They're not NPCs—they're elite students. Ichihōse's social IQ dwarfs mine.)
(If Classes A and D could deduce it, why not B?)
"This just got interesting..." Shimizu murmured.
The school was far more dynamic than he'd assumed—each class a sleeping giant.
Sakayanagi Arisu (A): The chessmaster.
Ichihōse Honami (B): The social savant.
Ryūen Kakeru (C): The tyrant.
(Every class except D is a powder keg.)
Arriving at his room, Shimizu noticed unusual noise from Ayanokōji's quarters next door.
Through the walls, muffled chatter—both male and female voices.
(Since when was Ayanokōji this popular?)
His phone read 8:00 PM.
The handbook clearly stated: "Boys may not linger on girls' floors past 8:30 PM."
But it was silent on girls visiting boys' dorms.
(Double standards much?)
The voices suggested multiple guests—likely Yamauchi, Ike, and co.
As Shimizu reached for his keycard, Ayanokōji's door swung open.
"Shimizu-kun! We've been waiting!"
Kushida Kikyō stood there, her signature smile in place—but her eyes held a steely glint.
"Since you were 'busy' after school, we had dinner, sang karaoke, then came here." She tilted her head. "Ayanokōji-kun mentioned you're neighbors."
Shimizu's gaze shifted to Ayanokōji, who stood passively behind her.
(Traitor. I misjudged you.)
Kushida stepped closer, her smile unchanging but pressure mounting.
"I know this is pushy..." Her voice dropped. "But you're indispensable to me."
Shimizu hadn't expected this level of persistence.
(She stalked me to my dorm over a declined invite?)
(And Ayanokōji sold me out?)
"...Fine."
After a beat, Shimizu relented.
With no plans post-council, further refusal would seem deliberately rude.
"Yay! I knew you wouldn't reject me!"
Kushida clasped her hands, her grin triumphant.
But in her half-lidded eyes, Shimizu caught it—
The smug flicker of someone who'd gotten exactly what they wanted.