Final Chapter: “You Always Save Me”
For some reason, I’d had this really awful premonition since morning.
The moment I thought I’d woken up, I got hit with sleep paralysis outta nowhere, wasting thirty whole minutes.
And the fortune segment on TV I happened to catch had my sign—Sagittarius—dead last by a landslide.
…Basically, I’d managed to pull off the exact same unlucky combo as that time, first thing in the morning.
But I never imagined it’d actually be spot-on.
On Election Day, an emergency broke out.
We got word that the senpai who was supposed to be Rui’s recommender had come down with a fever and would be absent.
“Rui, you okay?”
“Y-Yeah. Thanks for worrying, Ryouta-kun.”
Rui answered in her usual calm tone, but somehow, it also felt like she was forcing herself to act composed.
On Election Day, the candidates give their speeches in a pre-determined order, but there’s a rule: before each candidate’s speech, their recommender delivers a supporting speech.
Since Rui was first, her recommender was supposed to be the very first person to speak overall.
“I’d heard before that senpai’s been studying late every night for entrance exams, and I’m the one who selfishly asked this of them, so it can’t be helped. I still wanted them to make the speech, even knowing there was a risk this could happen.”
“…Yeah. You’re right.”
Rui had said before that the third-years’ votes would decide the outcome of this student council president election.
That’s why I’m sure she asked a senpai she could trust to be her recommender… but now that they couldn’t make it, this election just got a whole lot tougher in more ways than one.
“Can you ask someone else to fill in?”
“I thought maybe Airi or Yuria… but it looks like those two aren’t here yet either.”
Airi and Yuria usually show up right as the bell’s about to ring, so at this hour they might still be on the way to school and not checking their phones.
Every minute that ticked by—one, then another—Rui’s complexion grew noticeably worse.
Having no recommender was obviously going to be a headwind for Rui.
Maybe the graduation-ceremony incident back in middle school felt like this, too.
Back then, the one who happened to help was—by sheer coincidence—me…
No. This time isn’t coincidence… it’s inevitable that I’m the one who has to save her.
“Rui, I want you to hear me out.”
“Huh…?”
“I might not be much to rely on, but… I decided I’d be the one to support your perfection.”
“Ryouta-kun…”
“Please, Rui—”
☆☆
I’ve already made up my mind.
It’s an emergency, and with only a few students even knowing what’s going on, the only person who can step in is someone who knows the circumstances—and that means someone who learned about them right here.
Among the people waiting in the wings, the only one who’d probably raise their hand for a huge role like being Rui’s recommender… was me, her friend.
Besides, I got the teacher’s permission, so it’s fine…
Compared to the pressure of the cultural festival, this wasn’t as bad.
“And now, we’ll begin with the recommender’s supporting speech.”
I stepped up to the podium on the stage in the gym, adjusted the mic, bowed once, then took a step forward and began.
“Due to circumstances, I’ll be giving Kuroki Rui-san’s recommender speech in place of the originally scheduled person. I’m Izumiya Ryouta, second-year. Thank you for listening.”
Applause washed over me from the entire student body gathered in the gym.
Okay… what now?
Tanaka’s recommender speech had been prepared in advance, but for Rui’s, I had to sell her entirely off the cuff…
“Um, Kuroki-san is… always paying attention to the people around her, and she’s served as our class’s committee chair and as the track club captain, and—she can do anything, really—she’s perfect, and…”
Nothing comes out except vague, surface-level praise.
This kind of shallow content won’t cut it.
I need to talk about more than just the surface—about Rui… the real Rui.
I have to tell them about her, straightforwardly, stubbornly, the same way I always do—without trying to be anyone else.
The Rui I know.
I glance over at Rui in the wings.
Seeing her watching me with a prayer-like face, worrying about me… the words in my head suddenly click into place.
Yeah. That’s it, Rui.
The real charm you have… I’m the one who knows it best.
“But… the real Kuroki-san isn’t perfect.”
The moment I declared that, the crowd began to murmur.
Even so, I kept going.
“She always produces ridiculous results like it’s nothing, but along the way she’s run into trouble, and there were times she nearly failed, too. So she isn’t always perfect—she isn’t. But that’s exactly why Kuroki-san is always striving for perfection, working her butt off. In track, she practices every day until her practice clothes are soaked through with sweat, and with studying, too—during class and even during breaks—she approaches it with constant seriousness.”
Because I’ve watched her up close, I know.
Even the selfies she constantly sends me—every single one—her practice clothes are drenched in sweat, and when she’s in the classroom, she switches cleanly between chatting with Airi and Yuria and the others, and quietly studying.

“Kuroki Rui’s driving force lies in that relentless effort to aim for perfection. She doesn’t rely on talent alone—more than talent, she never spares effort. That’s why Kuroki-san has the power to make perfection real, no matter what it is.”
Rui isn’t perfect because she’s some genius.
Sure, she has innate talent—but it’s her obsession with perfection, and her ability to act, that let her build the perfect image she has now.
And because I’ve seen that earnest side of her, I wanted, from the bottom of my heart, to support her.
If everyone else can come to know that, too, then surely…
“So why don’t you all aim for perfection together with Kuroki-san? With Kuroki-san, there’s no doubt she’ll become your guidepost as student council president, and make your ‘perfect’ school life a reality. So… please, cast your precious vote for Kuroki-san. Thank you!”
When I finished with that and bowed deeply, the applause that rose up was even better than I’d expected.
Man, I was so nervous.
When I stepped back into the wings, maybe because the tension snapped all at once, the drained, limp feeling hit me hard.
As I was like that, Rui and Himesaki immediately came over to me.
“Ryouta-senpai, that was amazing! Just like you’d expect!”
“Well… I don’t know about ‘amazing.’”
“It was! Being able to say that much in that situation—I feel like if it were me, I’d probably have totally panicked!”
Himesaki said that with this oddly excited energy.
Beside her, Rui wore an expression of pure relief.
“Thank you—really, really—Ryouta-kun.”
“Y-You don’t have to thank me. I said I wanted to do it, so don’t worry about it.”
“No. I’m truly grateful. Thank you for a wonderful—no, the best recommender speech.”
“Rui… y-yeah. Kinda embarrassing.”
Being thanked by Rui, I couldn’t hide how happy I was.
“Next, we’ll hear the final speech from the candidate Kuroki Rui-san.”
After the recommender’s supporting speech, the candidate who received that support gives their own speech.
“I’m going, Ryouta-kun.”
“Do your best, Rui.”
I called out to Rui and sent her off onto the stage.
I’d been curious the whole time what she was going to say.
Not just that she wanted to aim for perfection herself, but what “perfection” Rui aimed for as student council president—I wanted to know.
Rui adjusted the mic, straightened her spine into a clean line, and surveyed the students with beautiful poise.
“I’m Kuroki Rui, a candidate for student council president. Now then—what is ‘perfection’ to all of you?”
Rui began speaking in her calm tone.
“Ever since I was little, I’ve continued striving to become a perfect version of myself, working hard day after day. But… just as Izumiya-san said earlier, I’m not perfect—that’s the reality.”
Rui briefly shifted her gaze to me in the wings and gave a small smile.
Rui… do your best…!
“I’ve achieved many results so far. But no matter how hard I try, somewhere along the way, I end up making some tiny mistake. And some of those mistakes could drop you from a hundred points to a zero. So… I can’t call it perfection.”
Rui denied her own perfection.
It felt different from her usual, brimming-with-confidence way of speaking.
But to me, it also felt like Rui was facing her perfection one more time, right here on this stage.
“However… perfection can be realized. When each and every one of you looks back, you can proudly put a hand to your chest and say your path so far was perfect… Creating that kind of perfect road is, without a doubt, possible.”
Even with that same calm tone she’d had all along, the words Rui spoke carried a passionate message—you could feel it just from listening.
“To make everyone’s high school life perfect, I deliberately didn’t present any specific pledges. The reason is because rather than limiting myself to temporary reforms, I want to focus first on accepting everyone’s requests, sincerely facing the measures each of you truly needs, and I promise—here and now—that I will work to improve every single one.”
So that was why, while Tanaka presented concrete pledges, Rui hadn’t pushed anything that specific.
Rather than forcing her own ideas onto everyone as pledges, she’d stay close to all the students and find the problems together… That way of thinking was so like Rui.
“Up until now, I—Kuroki Rui—have received so much support, and so much help, from all of you in my pursuit of perfection. But from here on, I promise I will devote myself to helping you make the rest of your high school life something you can be proud of. And for that, I humbly ask for your precious vote.”
With that, Rui gave a beautiful bow, then once more looked out over the students.
It was a speech that made it clear why someone like Kuroki Rui can realize perfection to such a degree—and why she’s so popular with everyone around her.
And Rui didn’t break that perfect smile until the very, very end of her speech.
After that, I could watch Himesaki’s speech from the wings with peace of mind.
Even while my heart pounded, I delivered Tanaka’s recommender speech just as I’d planned, and Tanaka—appearing via video—finished her speech smoothly while conveying her pledges.
And then, at last, it was time to vote.
Voting proceeds as everyone exited the gym.
There’s a ballot box near the exit, and you cast your vote on the way out. After that, the students return to their classrooms to wait for the count, while only the current student council officers and the election committee stay behind to conduct the count together.
Following that exit flow, I wrote a name on my ballot and dropped it into the ballot box.
Of course… I wrote the name “Kuroki Rui.”
☆☆
The moment we returned to the classroom, Airi and Yuria walked right up to me and Rui.
“That was rough, you two! Good work!”
“No, Ryouta, you were seriously insane! That was ad-lib, right!?”
“Y-Yeah… pretty much.”
While we were cooling down after getting through all that, those two were the exact opposite—super hyped, the temperature difference was kind of wild.
But hey, either way, I was relieved it ended without any major trouble.
“Looks like the results’ll be out soon, Rui. You nervous after all?”
“Yeah… but.”
“But?”
Rui let out a small, familiar giggle.
“Even if there was trouble, once my last piece—Ryouta-kun, my ultimate weapon—slotted into place, I feel like I can’t lose anymore.”
“U-Ultimate weapon…? If you’re gonna say that, you should’ve asked me from the start.”
“Aww, Ryouta’s getting all flustered ‘cause Rui-chan praised him~”
“N-No I’m not! That’s not it—!”
“The votes have been tallied.”
Just as we were talking, an announcement came from the broadcast room.
“The winner of the Student Council Presidential election…”
The air in the classroom went completely still.
And then…
“2-B’s Kuroki Rui-san has been elected.”
In that instant, the classroom erupted into cheers.
Bathed in everyone’s congratulations, the usual soft smile finally returned to Rui’s face.