Shimizu Akira remained completely unaware of the dark thoughts swirling behind the seemingly sweet girl.
To him, Kushida's reaction was perfectly normal—intelligent people hated uncertainty, just like chess players despised opponents who didn't follow conventional strategies.
People like her always wanted to keep the upper hand, turning even cooperation into a one-sided exploitation.
(But since when does anything in this world come for free?)
Shimizu toyed with his phone, his gaze calm as he observed the school's idol standing before him.
(She's undeniably a flawless beauty…)
(But surprisingly scheming.)
(Just as Ayanokōji predicted—her real target was me all along.)
Compared to some vague promise of a date, 80,000 private points were far more tangible.
"Kushida-san," Shimizu said slowly, "are you worried that I'll go back on my word and expose your plan?"
Without waiting for her reply, he continued, "But have you considered—given your popularity in class, even if I did talk, who would believe me?"
"...Shimizu-kun," came the girl's voice from behind him, tinged with a fragile hesitation, "you really won't tell anyone the truth, right? Can you turn around and say that again while looking into my eyes?"
"Fine." Shimizu sighed inwardly. This girl really has some serious trust issues.
The moment he turned—
Kushida Kikyō suddenly seized his left hand and pressed it firmly against her chest.
"Huh? What are you—?" Shimizu froze mid-sentence, the softness against his palm instantly clarifying her intentions.
Was she… deliberately giving him a free feel?
"As expected of Shimizu-kun!" Kushida's face bloomed into an innocent smile. "You've got just the right touch—this shouldn't leave fingerprints, right?"
"Could you curl your fingers a little? Maybe squeeze three or four times?"
"You sure?"
"Mhm, I'm sure~ Go ahead, Shimizu-kun."
"...Alright, if you insist."
Shimizu complied exactly as instructed.
"Nngh~…" The tips of Kushida's ears flushed scarlet, but she forced a composed smirk. "Shimizu-kun… you really don't hold back, do you? But I don't hate that about you."
She leaned in abruptly, strands of citrus-scented hair brushing his cheek.
"Now… I've got your leverage on my clothes~ I'll preserve this top very carefully with plastic wrap. So unless you want a nice chat with the police… you'll keep everything we discussed in this café a secret, right?"
Shimizu stood dumbfounded as she walked away, only snapping back to reality once her figure had vanished.
"What kind of blackmail is this…?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone—still glowing with an active recording screen.
The pale light illuminated his twitching lips.
"With a full audio recording… wasn't that just free service?"
Yes, he had recorded everything.
Ayanokōji had warned him, after all. And he'd already been wary of her to begin with.
So from the moment their private conversation started, the recorder had been running.
(Who's really holding whose leverage here?)
Kushida Kikyō transferred the 80,000 points soon after.
Shimizu stared at the notification on his phone, raising an eyebrow.
(Where'd she even get this much? Did she borrow from classmates?)
But now that the points were in his account, he couldn't be bothered to dig deeper.
As for her so-called "leverage"—the recording proved she had initiated everything. He had nothing to worry about.
Though, realistically… would fingerprints on clothing even count as evidence?
Late at night, Shimizu lay on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling.
(Wait…)
His brow furrowed as a strange sense of déjà vu washed over him.
(Haven't I done this kind of transaction way too often lately?)
Fragments of memories flashed by—
Karuiizawa Kei, blushing furiously while transferring points.
Horikita Suzune, coldly paying up with razor-sharp eyes.
Sakayanagi Arisu, elegantly swiping her device with an amused smirk.
And now… Kushida Kikyō.
(That makes four…)
Shimizu abruptly sat up, bursting into laughter in the dark.
"Don't tell me… I've got a talent for business? Is the fifth one about to open shop?"
Wide awake now, he flipped over and grabbed his phone, swiftly switching to a rarely used alternate account.
The screen glared back—"Read", but no reply.
Ryūen Kakeru (Class C) had left him on read, not even sparing a punctuation mark in response.
And Ichihōse Honami (Class B)?
Their chat log ended with a polite but firm rejection.
"Tch…" He rubbed his thumb against the screen, lips twisting into a self-deprecating smirk.
So much for his "guaranteed deals with pretty girls" fantasy.
Meanwhile, in Ichinose Honami's dorm room…
Ichinose bit her lip, hesitating before finally typing a message into the Class B group chat.
[Ichinose Honami]:"Everyone, please be extra careful to follow school rules from now on! (・ω・)ノ"
[Shibata Sō]:"Got it! Don't worry, I've already reminded everyone! ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ"
[Kanzaki Ryūji]:"Understood. We'll also ensure no information leaks to other classes."
[Shibata Sō]:"But hey, how'd you even find out about this? Calling that emergency meeting at lunch really surprised everyone! (⊙_⊙)"
[Ichinose Honami]:"Ahaha… actually, a second-year from Class D reached out for a trade! But I can't say who it was (^_^;)"
[Kanzaki Ryūji]:"Understood. Privacy is important. Still, Ichinose—even though we each pitched in 10,000 points, please thank that upperclassman for us."
[Ichinose Honami]:"Will do! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧"
Ichinose exhaled in relief. Thank goodness I got her contact info when we met.
She opened her contacts, scrolling to "Yamamura-senpai", and typed:
[Ichinose Honami]:"Yamamura-senpai, thank you so much! Without your warning, Class B might've been at a disadvantage from the first month… (＞人＜;)"
[Yamamura-senpai]:"Don't thank me. I was just passing on a message. If anything, I should thank you—I made a nice profit off this."
[Ichinose Honami]:"Huh? A message…? Then who originally—?"
[Yamamura-senpai]:"Sorry, can't say. They specifically didn't want you to know. Also… we should stop contacting each other. The vice president's eyes are everywhere."
[Ichinose Honami]:"Wait, the vice presi—"
[Yamamura-senpai]:"Let's just block each other! Next time we meet, pretend we're strangers!"
—Account Offline.
Ichinose stared blankly at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
"...A message?"
Which meant… the one who truly warned Class B wasn't Yamamura-senpai at all?
Then who—?