Kushida Kikyō was absolutely determined to win the class representative position.
She had already calculated every single step of this election.
The boys' rowdy behavior was completely within her expectations—in fact, it was the exact result she had meticulously orchestrated.
If a boy won, Kushida Kikyō would go on a date with him.
If a girl won, Kushida would pay 80,000 personal points as a reward.
But of course! Kushida Kikyō was just saying that.
The boys who drooled over her disgusted her—how could she possibly go on a real date with them?
But at the same time, 80,000 points wasn't a sum she could just hand over so easily.
In the end, this whole competition was nothing more than a carrot dangled in front of the class to motivate them.
She had no intention of actually giving up either reward.
But she couldn't leave any loopholes either—after all, her classmates weren't idiots.
Almost instantly, she came up with the perfect solution: find a suitable collaborator.
Preferably a boy—when the other boys saw them acting close, they'd work even harder for her next time.
And immediately, the most fitting candidate came to mind—Shimizu Akira.
The reasons? More than enough.
First, he was easy on the eyes.
Tall, well-built, with handsome features—he completely matched her standards.
Though Kushida Kikyō acted sweet and gentle to everyone on the surface, her actual standards for the opposite sex were anything but low.
Second, he was easy to be around.
Back at the pool, his natural compliments had genuinely pleased her for once.
After all, she spent every day carefully catering to others—being able to talk without overthinking was a rare luxury.
Third, he was simple and easy to control.
The guy was a pushover, pure-hearted—perfect for her to manipulate.
And of course, the most important reason—she could use this opportunity to pry information about Horikita Suzune out of him.
"Umm… this is actually a little selfish of me~"
Kushida Kikyō lowered her head slightly, her cheeks flushing with a shy pink hue, her long eyelashes fluttering delicately.
"I hope Shimizu-kun can keep this a secret for me…? Because… deep down, I'd really rather see Shimizu-kun win."
She lifted her large, glistening eyes, offering a sweet, slightly timid smile.
Perfect!
A smug smirk curled in her heart.
This was one of her signature moves—first, creating a sense of intimacy by sharing a "secret," then using the "I want you to win" line to close the distance.
Given her status as the class's idol, these hushed words laced with a hint of forbidden temptation, paired with her vulnerable act—who wouldn't soften up and agree?
But his reaction completely defied her expectations.
Shimizu simply rubbed his chin thoughtfully and cut straight to the point:
"...So this is rigging, then."
"H-Huh?! N-No, it's not rigging!"
Kushida flusteredly waved her hands, her voice rising slightly before she quickly dialed it back into a pitiful tone.
"I just… feel a little uncomfortable with the way some of the boys look at me…"
"But back at the pool on Monday," Shimizu cut in coolly, "you didn't seem bothered at all."
That sharp retort instantly left Kushida speechless, her carefully crafted lines stuck in her throat.
Kushida Kikyō's smile froze for a split second before swiftly returning to its usual innocent charm.
She tilted her head slightly, adopting a slightly wounded tone.
"Shimizu-kun, you're so mean… I'm really just thinking of you, you know? Why do you always assume the worst of me?"
Beneath the table, her fingers clenched tightly, nails nearly digging into her palms.
What the hell is up with Shimizu Akira today?!
Back at the pool, he was saying all those nice things that made me happy…
Since when did he become so difficult?!
I hate this!
"...Kushida-san." Shimizu suddenly spread his hands. *"Let's skip the back-and-forth. If you want to rig this for me, fine—80,000 points. Take it or leave it."*
"..."
Kushida Kikyō's head lowered deeply, the corner of her mouth twitching violently beneath her bangs.
(This bastard!!)
(He's demanding points from me?!)
(Even those nice things he said at the pool… was it all just setup for this moment?!)
(If I'd known, I wouldn't have picked him today!)
The thought inexplicably stoked her fury even higher.
"Shimizu-kun…" She suddenly smiled sweetly, though her tone carried a subtle edge. "Asking for points all of a sudden… that doesn't really seem like you."
Shimizu shrugged indifferently.
"I've always been like this. Equivalent exchange, fair trade."
Then, with a puzzled look, he added:
"More importantly, Kushida-san… what kind of person did you think I was?"
Without waiting for an answer, Shimizu turned away decisively.
"Anyway, if you want my help, you've gotta pay up. Otherwise, forget it."
Watching his retreating back, Kushida Kikyō couldn't suppress the restless irritation bubbling in her chest—anger at her plan falling apart, mixed with something else… something frustratingly indistinct.
(Like hell I'm letting him walk away like this!)
If this guy, who had seen through her scheme, just left, there was no telling what he might say. If the class found out the election was rigged, they'd look at her with contempt—and the perfect image she had painstakingly built in Class D would crumble.
Glancing at the scattered customers in the café, she forced herself to maintain her sweet smile.
In a public place like this, she couldn't lose her temper or resort to more drastic measures.
"...Shimizu-kun."
She quickly caught up to him just as he reached the door, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"If you promise to keep this a secret and be my partner…"
Her long lashes fluttered slightly.
"80,000 points… or a date with me—"
"Deal. 80,000 points it is."
His immediate reply made her breath hitch.
Shimizu didn't even turn around—he just waved his phone, the screen clearly displaying a transfer request.
(This bastard… really only cares about points!)
Kushida Kikyō's mood darkened to its absolute worst.
(...Even if he agreed, it's just a verbal promise! I don't trust him to keep his word—what if he 'accidentally' lets it slip to the others later?!)
(In the end, it's… I don't trust him! I don't trust anyone! The only thing I trust is blackmail material!)
(But I don't have any on him yet… which means I can't control him at all!)
Her nails threatened to pierce her palms as a dangerous thought flashed through her mind—
(If he doesn't have any dirt… can't I just create some myself?)
But she immediately shook her head.
(No, not yet…)
(In the end, this is just a small election trick. Is it really worth going that far? I've never done something like that before…!)