Horikita Suzune narrowed her fox-like eyes, coldly scrutinizing the other party.
"Are you questioning my abilities?"
Shimizu Akira's expression remained unchanged. "Your academic performance is indeed outstanding, but in other areas, you still fall far short. The simplest example—you don't even grasp basic rhetoric. How can you expect to command respect?"
After a brief silence, Horikita replied, "That's precisely why I need your assistance. I'll formulate the plans, and you'll execute them—we each play to our strengths. Will that suffice?"
She mused inwardly that this approach mirrored how her brother led the student council.
Just like how that secretary supported Aniki—clear division of labor is the most efficient.
Shimizu sighed softly, twirling a pen between his fingers. "As your deskmate, I'll humor you for now. Let's hear your 'Class President Governance Manifesto.'"
"After-school study sessions every day. Gradually raise everyone's academic performance to fundamentally improve the class's overall quality."
"Only focusing on grades? Class points are the real key. Speaking of which, how's your foreign policy shaping up?"
"Foreign policy?" Horikita clearly hadn't anticipated this question.
"Your strategic approach toward the other three classes," Shimizu leaned forward, enunciating each word. "Did you really just bury your head in developing Class D? Are we allying or opposing the other classes? How will we gather intel? How do we sabotage their class points… Honestly, I've told you before—in this school, grades alone aren't enough—"
Mid-sentence, Shimizu suddenly stopped.
Because Horikita had once again worn that faintly bewildered expression.
(…Am I thinking too deeply, or is she just seeing too shallowly?)
"Let me be blunt," Shimizu straightened up, tapping the desk lightly with his fingertip. "I'm not opposed to helping, but 80,000 points is far from enough." His gaze shifted to Kushida Kikyou standing at the podium. "Besides, why wouldn't I just cooperate with the current class president? Her popularity and influence far surpass yours."
Watching Horikita's body tense, Shimizu delivered the final blow with deliberate slowness: "Given your current capabilities and bargaining chips… regretfully, I decline."
Horikita Suzune whipped her head around, glaring at Shimizu as she hissed through clenched teeth: "…How dare you compare me to her!"
Meanwhile, at the podium, Kushida Kikyou began her inaugural address as class president with her signature saccharine smile.
She rested her hands lightly on the edges of the podium.
"Everyone," her voice was clear and melodious, yet tinged with regret, "I'm sorry to say that due to over half our class violating daily conduct rules last week and this week, our class points have already been significantly deducted."
A murmur of chatter instantly rippled through the classroom.
Kushida paused deliberately, waiting for the noise to subside before continuing: "While I'd love to encourage everyone to start attending classes seriously and behaving properly… it might already be too late for that. And, well… I really don't like forcing anyone to do anything."
"However," she raised a finger, blinking playfully, "upon reviewing the penalty rules, I discovered something interesting—most of our deductions stem from those two surveillance cameras in our classroom!"
Leaning in slightly, Kushida lowered her voice as if sharing a secret: "So… if we could preemptively delete this month's footage from both cameras… we'd retain at least 900 class points!"
Her final words were like a stone dropped into still water—instantly stirring up fervent discussion.
"Seriously?!"
"Our class could actually secure 900 points?!"
"Does that mean we could jump straight to Class A next month?!"
"Hahaha… fascinating! But! Surely it's not that simple, is it? Go on, give us your 'however!'" Kōenji Rokusuke suddenly burst into laughter, his tone laced with amusement, instantly cooling the heated atmosphere.
"Of course, there's a condition," Kushida Kikyou blinked slowly, her smile unwavering despite the faint dark circles under her eyes.
She paused, ensuring all eyes were on her. "We'd need to spend 3 million private points to lease the two cameras. But…" Her gaze swept across the room. "Considering how many class points we've already lost these past two weeks, trading 3 million private points for 400 to 500 class points seems like a fair deal."
To prepare for this first speech as class president, Kushida had stayed up until 3 a.m.
She had meticulously polished every detail, especially regarding the sensitive topic of the cameras—handling it required extreme care.
Her strategy was gradual escalation: dangle the most enticing benefit first, then delve deeper.
Every word, every pause, every shift in tone was carefully calculated.
(Kushida's performance today is impressive.)
Shimizu Akira silently admired her.
He had assumed Kushida was merely skilled at socializing, but her eloquence here genuinely surprised him.
Emotional intelligence is just as vital as intellect. The order of words matters—had she led with the cameras, the impact wouldn't have been the same.
Come to think of it… might Kushida Kikyou actually be a better fit for class president?
Class D is stacked with talent.
(If she can reform the others' mindsets, they might genuinely improve.)
(Aside from Yamauchi and a few others, almost everyone here excels at something.)
Take Ike Kanji, for instance—though he often goofed off with Yamauchi, he'd once mentioned having camping experience.
Unlike Yamauchi's habitual bragging, his claim was likely true.
(Somehow, Class D gives me vibes no weaker than Class A.)
(Sure, they're unruly, but individually? Their skills are legit.)
Shimizu had to admit: as things stood, Class D did have the potential to compete for Class A.
After all, he'd observed all four classes yesterday.
Class C was undeniably the weakest, while the other three seemed evenly matched.
"So… do you still think I'm wrong? As you are now, you're simply not as good as Kushida Kikyou. Her effectiveness as class president far outstrips yours. Could you have delivered such a high-EQ speech?" Shimizu met Horikita's gaze squarely, stating the objective truth.
"..."
For the first time, Horikita Suzune stared at that girl on the podium—the one whose smile she'd always found insincere—and felt something unfamiliar stir within her.
Perhaps… she isn't as detestable as I thought.