The classroom felt oddly empty without the clang of training bells or the barked orders of Solarius. No simulations, no sparring, not even drills. Just twenty cadets sitting around, most of them still sore, all of them still carrying the words and grudges left behind after yesterday's explosions of pride.
At the front stood Instructor Harada, one of the academy's lesser-known overseers, clipboard in hand. Unlike Solarius, his presence didn't fill the room with divine intimidation—he looked more like a tired bureaucrat than a hero.
"Since some of you have decided to act like alley cats rather than cadets," Harada began, tone flat, "today will not be training. You'll be making up for yesterday's lack of teamwork. The Hero Association has mandated every class have an elected representative to handle organization, communication, and morale."
A groan rolled through the cadets.
"Put simply," Harada said, clicking his pen, "you're voting for a class rep. Someone to speak for you, organize you, and—when Solarius isn't around—keep this class from imploding."
---
Instantly, heads turned toward Akihiro. His golden aura made him look like the obvious candidate. Even Mei muttered under her breath, "Well, that's obvious."
But Akihiro raised his hand before anyone could nominate him.
"I refuse," he said calmly. "I'll train. I'll fight. But leadership? Not my role."
A ripple of surprise ran through the class. Some looked relieved, others confused. Yuna, sitting next to him as always, smirked faintly, as though she'd known his answer before he spoke.
"That leaves the rest of you," Harada said dryly. "Work it out. I'll be back in an hour." He walked out, the door shutting with an audible click.
---
The silence lasted about three seconds.
"Obviously, it should be me," Haruto declared, slamming his hand down on his desk. Sparks flickered faintly at his fingertips. "I've got the strength to represent this class, and unlike most of you, I don't crumble under pressure."
Daigo scoffed loudly. "Yeah, you nearly fried your own teammate yesterday. You'd lead us straight into the morgue."
"Better than hiding behind stone walls like a coward!" Haruto snapped.
Ayaka rubbed her temples. "Here we go again…"
Rina timidly raised her hand. "Maybe it should be someone… calmer? Less likely to argue?"
"Like you?" Kaito teased, flames sparking in his palm. "Sure, glass girl, until the first punch and you shatter."
Rina shrank in her seat, Tsubasa immediately puffing his wings protectively. "She's not weak!" he barked, before accidentally knocking his pen across the room.
The bickering built fast—Renji was shouting over Kaede, Mei was cursing Daigo, and even Mika threatened to light the curtains if no one shut up.
---
"Shut up!"
The voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a blade. All eyes turned to Emi, her hands balled into fists on her desk. Her face was flushed, glasses slipping down her nose, but her voice carried a sharp edge.
"You're all acting like children. A class rep isn't supposed to be the strongest. It's supposed to be the one who can actually think! Someone who can organize and analyze, not just scream and throw sparks around!"
The silence that followed was deafening. Haruto glared, Daigo frowned, and Rina looked relieved.
Renji chuckled nervously. "She's… not wrong."
Kaede smirked faintly, shadows curling at her fingertips. "Finally, someone said it."
For once, Emi didn't shrink back into her seat. She looked around, voice trembling but resolute.
"I'll do it. I'll be class rep. And if anyone thinks I can't handle it—fine. Try me."
---
They argued, of course. Haruto pushed for himself, Mei nominated Daigo, and Mika suggested "no leader at all." But the longer they went on, the clearer it became that Emi was the only one who'd actually proven herself with both brains and composure.
One by one, hands raised. Not everyone, not unanimously—but enough.
When Akihiro raised his hand quietly, Yuna beside him smirking at the choice, the room seemed to settle. Even Haruto, though scowling, muttered, "Fine. But if you screw up, don't say I didn't warn you."
By the time Instructor Harada returned, the decision had been made.
"Already?" he asked, blinking at the calm room. He scribbled something on his clipboard. "Alright then. Emi Yukimura, Class Representative. Good luck keeping these idiots in line."
Emi sat frozen in her seat, cheeks scarlet, trying not to smile too wide.
---
As the cadets filed out for lunch, small conversations sparked again. Not arguments this time, but murmurs—hesitant, cautious, but less hostile. A fragile peace had formed, centered around an unlikely leader.
In the hallway, Akihiro passed Emi with a small nod. She blinked, caught off guard. Yuna, walking beside him, murmured softly, "Told you. Eyes sharper than light."