Chapter 15: The Chairman’s Pressure

“Kiyomiya-san, I’ve taken care of everything.”

“Seriously, you’re a lifesaver, Maritsuji.”

The next day, after school, I found myself in the familiar tea room, facing Maritsuji Anri once again. Today, etiquette was the last thing on my mind, and I sat cross-legged on the tatami mats, relaxed and unguarded. Maritsuji didn’t seem to care, her face glowing with a gentle, almost teasing smile.

“I’ll definitely pay you back for this,” I promised.

“Are you sure? A debt to me comes with a steep price, you know.”

“Ugh… I-I’ll be fine. You don’t move people for free, after all. Especially not the esteemed ojou-sama of the Maritsuji family.”

“If we were friends, I’d say it’s fine to ask for favors without a price… but you and I aren’t friends, are we, Kiyomiya-kun?”

“Yeah, we’re not friends,” I admitted bluntly.

Saying “we’re not friends” to a classmate sounded harsh, no matter how you framed it. If anyone overheard, they’d probably assume Maritsuji and I were on terrible terms. But that wasn’t the case. For Kiyomiya and Maritsuji, both burdened by the weight of our family names, building a casual relationship was never that simple.

“Feel free to keep asking for favors. You’ve got plenty for me to collect on, Kiyomiya-kun.”

“That’s terrifying!” Was she seriously trying to pressure me into something as drastic as marriage?

“T-this one favor doesn’t count as a huge debt, right?”

“Hmm, who’s to say?” Maritsuji tilted her head, playfully sticking out her tongue in that effortlessly cute way of hers.

“Hey, Anri-chan, didn’t your dad tell you to stop sticking out your tongue like that?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s just that being around you, Kiyomiya-san, makes me feel like a kid again—wait, you just called me ‘Anri-chan’ like you used to, didn’t you?”

“…Did I?” I muttered, feigning ignorance. Back when I was too young to fully grasp the Maritsuji family’s towering stature, I’d called her that without a second thought. Her parents had made it painfully clear they disapproved, so I’d switched to her family name to avoid trouble.

“Well, calling me ‘Anri-chan’ might be a bit much, but how about dropping the formalities and just calling me ‘Maritsuji’ even in public? Do that, and we’ll call this debt settled.”

“…That’s surprisingly cheap, isn’t it?” I remarked, raising an eyebrow. I was already stirring whispers at school just by calling Sayaka by her first name. Adding Maritsuji to the mix might spark even more gossip, but… oh well.

“Oh, it’s about time. The appointment’s at four, right?”

“Yes, I secured a meeting with Chairman Toyohara at four,” Maritsuji confirmed.

“Thanks, Maritsuji.”

“You’re welcome.” She nodded gracefully, then placed her hands on the tatami and dipped her head in a playful bow. “Safe travels, my dear husband. What time will you be home? I’ll have dinner ready and waiting.”

“What are you, my newlywed wife?!” I sputtered, caught off guard by her teasing. I might’ve made a mistake picking her to owe a favor to, I thought, shaking my head.

Still, meeting with the chairman of Sōshūkan Academy—Toyohara Shuuichirou, the head of a prestigious family on par with the Kiyomiya and Maritsuji—was no small feat. I could never have pulled it off on my own. Without Maritsuji Anri leveraging the weight of her family name, this opportunity would’ve slipped through my fingers.

Looking back, going to the staff room had been a detour. The decision to abolish the scholarship program came straight from the top, and the teachers—mere employees—had no power to challenge it. Dragging Reizen-sensei into this might’ve been a misstep.

I knocked on the door of the chairman’s office, located on the first floor of the main building.

“Come in,” a heavy voice echoed from the other side.

“Pardon me,” I replied, slowly pushing the door open.

The room wasn’t overly spacious, but it exuded authority. Plush carpeting softened my steps, a refined reception set sat neatly to one side, and an imposing wooden desk commanded the space by the window.

“Kiyomiya Keiji, Class 1-B,” I announced, addressing the figure seated at the desk.

His neatly combed gray hair and finely tailored brown suit radiated refinement. A well-groomed beard and broad shoulders completed the image—an imposing man who’d look right at home puffing on a cigar.

“Chairman Toyohara, I’m here to discuss something.”

“Bypassing the principal to meet me directly, huh? Still as cheeky as ever, Kiyomiya,” Chairman Toyohara remarked, his stern expression unyielding, not a trace of a smile.

As the chairman of Sōshūkan Academy and the current head of the illustrious Toyohara family, his presence carried a weight that matched his prestigious name.

“But when the Maritsuji family’s ojou-sama mediates, I can’t exactly refuse,” he added.

“I’m grateful to Maritsuji-san,” I replied sincerely.

“That girl may seem gentle, but she’s a tough one to deal with. I’m impressed you managed to get her to do you a favor.”

“She’s kind,” I said simply.

“Kind to those she chooses. You’d be wise not to make an enemy of her,” he warned, sinking deeply into his luxurious chair. “Keiji, it’s been a while. We’re in the same school, yet this is the first time we’ve met on campus, isn’t it? How’s Takatsugu doing? That man’s too laid-back. Left alone, he won’t call for years.”

“Sorry, my father’s been busy…” My father, Kiyomiya Takatsugu, had apparently known Chairman Toyohara for ages, and I’d met the chairman a few times as a kid.

“No, you didn’t come here to talk about your father. It’s about the scholarship program, isn’t it?” he cut in, his tone sharp.

“Huh? How did you—?”

“There’s nothing in this school I don’t know about. This is a matter of school management. It’s not for kids to meddle in,” he stated flatly.

“Isn’t it a bit harsh to spring the scholarship abolition on kids out of nowhere?” I pressed, undeterred.

“What, planning to leak it to the press or post it on SNS? Go ahead. I’ll show you that Sōshūkan isn’t like any ordinary school,” he retorted, his voice laced with challenge.

“You sound like a villain, uncle—er, Chairman,” I shot back, catching myself.

“If anything, you whining about it, Kiyomiya, makes me want to abolish it even more,” he said, a glint of amusement finally breaking through his stern facade.

“That’s just personal spite!” I exclaimed. This cigar-smoking, cool old guy was starting to seem surprisingly childish.

“You must know about the long-standing feud between the Toyohara and Kiyomiya families, even as a kid,” Chairman Toyohara said, his tone heavy with implication.

“I’ve heard a bit, but I figured it’s got nothing to do with kids.”

“It has everything to do with you. It’s a feud that’ll be passed down to the next generation.”

“Master, it’s cruel to threaten him like that.”

“O-oh, right,” the Chairman faltered, his stern demeanor wavering with unease.

I turned to see a maid standing behind me, her sudden presence catching me off guard.

“Huh? A-a maid?”

“Yes, I’m Kino, the maid. It’s been a while, Keiji-sama,” she said with a polite bow.

“…Sorry, have we met before?”

Kino stood poised with a tray of tea in her hands. Her black hair was neatly styled in braids, her face radiated intelligence and beauty, and her slender, tall frame was clad in a long-skirted maid outfit—the picture of a classic maid, like she’d stepped out of a British aristocratic drama.

“Um, are you a maid for the Toyohara family?” I ventured.

“Yes, we only met briefly when you were young, Keiji-sama, so it’s no surprise you don’t remember.”

“Right…” I mumbled. Growing up in a world where servants were just part of life, I rarely remembered them unless we’d met multiple times.

“Master, it’s one thing with other students, but this is Kiyomiya Keiji-sama. It’d be rude not to at least offer him tea.”

“Y-yeah, you’re right. Keiji, sit on the sofa,” Chairman Toyohara conceded, rising and moving to the reception set.

I nodded and took a seat across from him. Kino gracefully placed two cups of tea on the table between us.

“Chairman, you’re pretty weak to maids, huh?”

“A leader should listen to their subordinates’ suggestions,” he replied, clearing his throat and pretending that shaky moment never happened.

Kino, probably a bit older than Reizen-sensei—still in her twenties, I’d guess—stood calmly nearby. To Chairman Toyohara, she was young enough to be his daughter, yet he couldn’t seem to stand up to her.

“Back to our discussion, Keiji,” Chairman Toyohara said, his voice steadying. “Just to clarify, there’s no blood relation between the Toyohara and Kiyomiya families. Despite both being noble houses for over a thousand years, we’ve never once intermarried.”

“Sounds like the families really didn’t get along.”

“While we haven’t intermarried, it seems we’ve clashed in deadly conflicts countless times. Back in the Heian era, they even sent curses at each other, apparently.”

“Curses, huh? That’s quaint,” I replied, stifling a smirk. Honestly, I was half-tempted to send a curse his way right now.

“But no matter how bad things are between our families, the scholarship issue is separate,” I added, steering the conversation back.

“Don’t get worked up. The scholarship program’s always had a bad reputation. Whenever a scholarship student shows up, some students and parents openly resent it,” he explained, his expression unmoved.

“Rich people with small minds, huh?”

“It’s about pride. Let me put it plainly—your mother.”

“What?” My mother? The woman who gave birth to me without marrying my father—what about her?

“You didn’t know? Keiji, your mother was a scholarship student at Sōshūkan. That’s where she met Kiyomiya Takatsugu.”

“…News to me,” I said, my voice quieter now. Truth was, I barely knew anything about my real mother. In the Kiyomiya family, she was practically a taboo subject.

“But…”

“What?”

“No, it’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”

That wasn’t a “nothing” attitude. If even this pompous old man hesitated to say it… I pressed on, piecing it together. “Wait, are you saying my mother being a scholarship student led to her meeting the Kiyomiya heir and having a kid, and that’s why the scholarship program got a bad rep? A commoner girl snagging an upper-class heir, seen as punching above her station—that’s the perception, right?”

My guess seemed to hit the mark, as the chairman’s face soured, his silence confirming my suspicion.

“I’m not saying I fully endorse this class system,” he finally said. “I know it doesn’t fit modern society. But the reality is, Sōshūkan and the people around it are steeped in elitism.”

“I’m on the fringes of that class myself, so I get it.” I admitted. Even among noble families, some thought the “class divide” was outdated, but more probably took pride in their inherited lineage.

“The scholarship program’s been around for about twenty years. It’s time to end it, and I had no reason to object. Hisaka Sayaka is an excellent student, and she had a recommendation from the Reizen family, but that’s not enough to justify keeping her.”

“As chairman, shouldn’t you protect your students?”

“There’s no reversing this. Hisaka Sayaka either pays a million or leaves,” he stated flatly, his tone signaling that my protests were futile.

“Keiji, frankly, you’re a disappointment.”

“Huh? You had expectations for me?”

“This isn’t a joke. Right now, the Fujikawa Group holds the most influence among the first-year high schoolers.”

“You mean faction struggles?” With this school full of noble families, where ties and rivalries between houses already existed, factions naturally formed. Sure, other schools had clique drama, but at Sōshūkan, it wasn’t just about student dynamics—family power balances and grudges played a role too.

“As the son of the Kiyomiya head, why haven’t you formed your own group? You’re shirking your noble duties,” Chairman Toyohara pressed, his voice carrying a mix of disappointment and expectation.

“You want me to start a faction? I’m average at academics and sports—a guy people laugh at and call trash.”

“If you manage to resolve the scholarship issue but stay powerless, the next problem will just remind you how weak you are.”

“Chairman, are you saying I should carry the Kiyomiya name and play faction games?”

“School is a microcosm of society. It’s a cliché, but it’s true. That’s why we run this school to educate the heirs of noble families.”

“I’ve got no interest in jumping into that social competition,” I said flatly. Sure, the freeloading maid-wannabe was eager to whip me into shape, but aiming for the top of noble society? That was absurd.

“That’s just weakness, Keiji. If you want to protect friends like Hisaka Sayaka at Sōshūkan, aim to stand at the top as a Kiyomiya.”

“Even you’re saying stuff like that?” I muttered, exasperated. Why was a guy treated like trash being expected to step up by the chairman?

“It’s been nine years since elementary school. No one’s gonna follow me just because I act like a leader now. Everyone knows my background, after all.”

“Keiji-sama, I’m sorry for interrupting,” Kino-san said hesitantly, stepping forward from where she’d been standing by the reception set.

“What is it?”

“My family was at odds with the Toyohara family until just a decade ago.”

“Wait… so you’re saying you were forced to submit to the chairman and became a maid?”

“Oi, watch your words,” Chairman Toyohara snapped, his face twisting with genuine displeasure.

Kino continued, unfazed. “The Toyohara clan has always subdued those around them, and it’s no different now. The Kiyomiya family is the same. You have the power to do that, too.”

“Even you, Kino-san, are trying to egg me on?” Man, the people around me were a mess. The adults especially were the worst—like the folks here, or Reizen-sensei.

“My goodness… I don’t have time to waste on this nonsense,” the chairman huffed, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve known you since you were a kid. For old times’ sake, I’ll give you one piece of advice.”

“What now? I came here to ask you for a favor, you know.”

“You foolish kid. You don’t need to owe me anything. The special student quota’s been abolished, and Hisaka Sayaka will be expelled unless she pays a million yen. If it comes to that, the solution’s simple. Talk to your homeroom teacher? Appeal directly to the chairman? Owe someone like Toyohara a favor? Ridiculous. There’s an easier way. No need to spell it out. The question is—Keiji, will you do it or not?”

I fell silent, the weight of his words settling over me.

I can’t keep babysitting kids forever.

With those words, I got kicked out from the chairman’s office.

“An easier way, huh…” I muttered under my breath, my voice barely audible as I trudged down the hallway.

“Yo, Kiyomiya!”

“What’s up, Fujikawa?”

Blocking my path—no, waiting for me—was Fujikawa Koutarou, his figure looming in the corridor.

“What are you skulking around for? Got some nerve marching straight to the chairman’s office.”

“It’s not a big deal for the chairman to meet a student, is it?” I replied coolly, noting the faint unease in Fujikawa’s eyes. It’s no surprise he’s intimidated by the Chairman; the Toyohara family towers over the Fujikawa family by several tiers.

“I heard your buddy Hisaka’s on the verge of expulsion,” Fujikawa sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. “Haha, that’s what she gets for hanging around a loser like you, Kiyomiya.”

“Oh? Word is that the special student quota’s getting axed because of complaints from multiple parents. Fujikawa family got a hand in that?” I shot back, watching his reaction closely.

“Who knows?” Fujikawa flashes a smug smirk and shrugs, but the glint in his eyes betrays him. Sounds like he’s knee-deep in it.

“Maybe Hisaka thinks so too, huh? Girl’s supposed to be sharp, but is she just clueless? Maybe she’ll finally figure out that sticking with you, Kiyomiya, only spells trouble. Nah, me and the Fujikawa family haven’t done a thing, of course.”

“Is that so? Then, Fujikawa, if you’re not involved, get lost.”

“…!” Fujikawa’s eyes widen, caught off guard by my bluntness. I brace for anger, but all I see is surprise. Maybe this guy’s more spineless than I gave him credit for. What a small-minded jerk—reminds me of who I was until just moments ago.

Whatever. Fujikawa’s not worth my time.

I quicken my pace back to the Kiyomiya Family Old Manor, brushing off a fleeting exchange with Sayaka, who’s already home as usual, and make a beeline for my room. She might think I’m acting strange, but I can’t afford to care right now.

Standing before my bookshelf, I reach for a single volume, my fingers trembling slightly. “To think my mom went through the same thing as Sayaka…”

My mother, gone since I was young, lingers in my life like a faint shadow. Her “commoner” status meant the Kiyomiya family never accepted her. Resentment? I don’t have it—truth is, I barely know enough about her to feel anything at all. The only photo I have of her, I haven’t glanced at in years.

In it, she’s cradling me as a baby in the garden of the Kiyomiya Family Main Residence, her gentle smile framed by long brown hair woven into three braids, her dress elegant yet unassuming.

Her name was Wakura Honoka. That, and the photo, are all I have. But today, the chairman revealed something new—she was a special student at Sōshūkan Academy, just like Sayaka.

“Hey, Mom. Your special student junior’s in deep trouble. What should I do?”

The mother in the photo, of course, offers no reply, her gentle smile frozen in time.

“It’s been a while since I really looked at you,” I murmur, studying her face. “You do seem pretty sharp.”

I always knew she was beautiful, but now I notice a quiet intelligence in her eyes, a spark that must have carried her through. Getting into Sōshūkan’s special student program couldn’t have been easy, even back then. Sayaka’s cut from the same cloth—you can see her brilliance just by looking at her.

Now that I think about it, Mom and Sayaka even share a certain resemblance. I guess your true self really does shine through your face…

“Keiji-kun?”

“Whoa!” A sudden voice jolts me, and I fumble to stuff the photo into my pocket.

Sayaka’s peeking halfway through the open door, her head tilted curiously.

The housekeeper—no, the maid—was watching?

“You bolted straight to your room, so I wondered if you were up to something secretive,” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. “I couldn’t resist taking a peek.”

“…Curiosity’s a fine trait, I suppose,” I mutter, relieved I hid the photo in time. It’s not that I need to keep my mom’s picture a secret, but having Sayaka catch me staring at it feels… embarrassing, somehow.

“I got curious about what a boy might be doing alone in his room. Sorry about that.”

“I’m not doing anything shady!” I blurt, heat rising to my cheeks. “A-anyway, go make dinner or something.”

“Right. Shall I whip up something to boost your energy?”

“I told you, I’m not holed up in here doing who-knows-what!”

I nearly got slammed with a ridiculous misunderstanding. This isn’t the time to be lost in thought, gazing at my late mother’s photo.

To save Sayaka, a girl caught in the same struggle my mom once faced, I need to figure out my next move—and fast.