Chapter 4: Because I Want to Compete Fair and Square

After school. As winter approached and the days grew shorter, the sky was dyed a faint orange hue.

The malicious rumors Rintarou had spread were steadily dying down. Tennouji-san and Narika, during their lunchtime speeches, sensed the crowd’s atmosphere and felt reassured.

As expected, Kiou Academy’s self-purifying nature was strong. This academy, filled with earnest individuals, had many who would call out falsehoods for what they were. Few blindly believed rumors they overheard, preferring to verify the truth with their own eyes.

I believe smear campaigns exploit human shortsightedness. But in an environment like Kiou Academy, where most people think deeply, such tactics simply don’t stick.

I’m not trying to gloat, but I had something I wanted to say the next time I faced Rintarou. To Rintarou, who seemed disillusioned with this academy, I wanted to proudly declare, “See? This academy isn’t so bad, is it?”

If possible, I hoped Rintarou could come to like this place, even just a little—but…

—the situation had changed.

In the classroom, where students were starting to thin out, Taishou approached my desk.

“Tomonari, you seemed kinda out of it since afternoon classes. You okay?”

“…I’m fine.”

Forcing a cheerful front, I gave a wry smile.

Taishou nodded briefly with a “Got it,” but I got the sense he picked up on the vibe that prying further wouldn’t be welcome and stayed quiet.

“Still, weird rumors going around, huh? Like your status being fake or something.”

“…Yeah.”

“Ain’t no way anyone’s buying that kinda rumor, right?”

For Taishou, who completely believed in my innocence, the idea that I’d be troubled by such gossip didn’t even cross his mind.

The rest of our classmates were the same. Not a single one doubted me.

That’s exactly why… it hurt.

Needles of guilt quietly pierced the inside of my heart.

Someday, I want to stand beside everyone with my true identity. …But for now, I still can’t reveal who I really am.

“Tomonari-kun…”

Asahi-san approached, her face apologetic.

“I’m sorry. Maybe because I helped you guys, Rintarou got mad and…”

“Ain’t your fault, Asahi.”

I nodded in agreement with Taishou’s words.

“Taishou-kun’s right. There’s no need for you to feel responsible, Asahi-san. …I’d be happy if you kept helping us out.”

“…Okay.”

Asahi-san gave a small nod.

“That Rintarou, resorting to spreading rumors about someone’s status just ’cause his smear campaign’s losing steam? Sounds like he’s getting desperate, huh?”

“…Maybe so.”

So far, I haven’t heard anything concrete backing this rumor. As Taishou suggested, it was likely just something Rintarou threw out in a panic.

But—my position doesn’t allow for complacency.

(If Rintarou had something solid to back up this rumor…)

The mere existence of that risk made me feel like Rintarou had a grip on my heart.

The rumor was true. I had falsified my status to transfer into Kiou Academy. For someone like me, being suspected of such a thing was the worst possible scenario.

Even if the rumor lacked evidence and no one believed it, what would Kagen-san think if he saw this situation?

If my true identity were exposed, my role as a caretaker might also come to light.

Right now, I’m a ticking bomb that could shatter Hinako’s perfect Ojou-sama facade—

“Tomonari-san.”

“Izuki.”

A voice called from outside the classroom.

Tennouji-san and Narika were watching me. I stood from my seat and headed toward them.

“Sorry, it’s almost time for the speech, right?”

“This isn’t the time to be talking about that.”

Tennouji-san spoke cautiously, while Narika looked at me with an anxious expression.

“Izuki… you okay?”

“…I don’t know.”

Since both of them knew my true identity, they understood why this rumor couldn’t be ignored. They probably saw right through the desperate unease swirling in my chest.

(Hinako…)

When I glanced back at the classroom, my eyes met Hinako’s.

Seeing the worry in her gaze, I steeled my resolve.

“I’ll talk to Rintarou.”

I told Tennouji-san and Narika.

“You two focus on the speech. Joutou-kun’s approval rating is climbing, so we can’t afford to fall behind now. …I’ll handle the rumor myself.”

As planned, today’s speech would incorporate some of the demands from Hinako’s supporters.

Perhaps sensing my determination, both of them gave a deep nod.

After seeing them off to prepare for the speech, I headed toward the first-year building, pulling out my smartphone.

The call connected almost instantly.

“Shizune-san, sorry to bother you. There’s something urgent I need to discuss—”

I explained the rumor about me circulating in the academy.

Since we’d already shared that we were facing a smear campaign, Shizune-san quickly grasped that this rumor might be part of it.

“I’ve determined there’s no risk of Izuki-san’s true identity leaking externally.”

Shizune-san offered her assessment promptly.

“Since the incident with Tennouji-sama, we’ve taken extra precautions to ensure such a blunder never happens again. While someone might pick up on your mannerisms or speech, there’s no way definitive evidence would leak.”

“…Understood. I’ll double-check on my end as well.”

“Yes. Please be careful.”

Though she stated confidently that no leaks were possible, Shizune-san’s tone carried a hint of tension, more than usual. She, too, recognized the gravity of the situation.

I slipped the smartphone into my pocket and started climbing the stairs to the first-year building.

Standing before me was Rintarou.

“I’ve been waiting. You wanted to talk to me, right?”

“…Yeah.”

I met Rintarou’s bold smirk with a steady glare.

◆

“You got me good.”

Sitting across from me in the academy’s café, Rintarou opened with that line.

He pulled out a flyer and showed it to me. It was the one I’d made last night and printed this morning to counter the rumors.

“This flyer’s impressive. I checked the website too—insane amount of info. I never expected you’d tackle the smear campaign with such a brute-force approach. As someone who relied on underhanded tactics, I’m honestly frustrated. It takes real guts to stick to straightforward methods in a situation like this.”

“…Guess I’m just not good with sneaky tactics.”

“That’s for the best. Nothing beats operating fair and square.”

Says the guy pulling all the dirty tricks.

I let out a sigh to vent the irritation bubbling up inside.

“…What I want to talk about is the new rumor you spread. The one about my status.”

Neither of us touched the cups on the table.

Feeling the tension in the air, I pressed him.

“What’s your basis for spreading a rumor like that?”

“There’s no basis.”

Rintarou said it without a hint of shame.

“That’s how smear campaigns work. Whoever says it first wins.”

Rintarou tilted his cup, taking a sip of coffee.

“Of course, finding evidence would make it more effective, so I did consider investigating. But if Tomonari-senpai really were faking his status… the Konohana Group would have to be backing you, right?”

My public identity is that of the heir to a mid-tier IT company within the Konohana Group.

If that were a lie, it’d mean the Konohana Group was complicit.

“No investigation agency out there can take on the Konohana Group. I tried digging a bit through my connections, but… well, it was pointless. I gave up on finding hard evidence pretty quickly.”

For Rintarou, this topic didn’t seem worth getting tense over. After setting his cup down, he stared at the saucer for a moment. Perhaps he was considering the cost of the tableware.

I let out a quiet breath.

No basis for the rumor. In other words, the gossip Rintarou spread was complete nonsense.

He hadn’t uncovered my true identity.

(Thank goodness… but I can’t let it show.)

If I visibly relaxed here, Rintarou would only grow more suspicious of my status.

So I kept my composure, acting as if his suspicions were meaningless.

“Still, I don’t think the possibility’s zero.”

Shifting his gaze from his hands to me, Rintarou continued.

“If Tomonari-senpai’s true identity were some commoner who wouldn’t normally get into Kiou Academy… it would explain all your un-Kiou-like behavior.”

From Rintarou’s perspective, I can see why he’d think that.

“Give me a chance, just a small one.”

“A chance?”

“Yeah. Starting now, I’ll assume there’s a chance you’re a commoner and share my thoughts.”

I tilted my head, not quite following, as Rintarou stood up.

If, at this moment, my true identity as a commoner had been exposed—Rintarou opened his mouth wide.

“—Why are you hiding who you are!?”

Rintarou’s shout pierced my ears.

“You’re in an incredible position!! A commoner background, yet you’re the center of attention at this academy!? You’re proof that even a commoner can shine this brightly if they work hard!!”

Rintarou bellowed from the depths of his heart.

“Tomonari-senpai, you could be the ultimate flag-bearer for us! If you joined our side, we’d win for sure! The world you belong in is ours!”

His voice carried a desperate edge.

A bead of sweat rolled down Rintarou’s cheek. Sacrificing his usual composure, he poured out the fiery passion he’d kept bottled up.

It seemed he was throwing those words at the hypothetical version of me, who was a commoner.

But my answer was already set.

“…Sorry, but you’ve got it wrong.”

Hearing my response, the color drained from Rintarou’s face, which had been brimming with fervor.

“I see… Haha, that’s reality for you. Even if you were a commoner, if those words didn’t reach you, they’re meaningless.”

With a hollow laugh, Rintarou slumped back into his chair.

…He really had high hopes, didn’t he?

That my true identity was just a commoner who could become the flag-bearer for Joutou’s camp. …Considering Joutou’s platform, I’d fit like the final piece of a puzzle.

Looking at Rintarou, his head bowed, I could see regret seeping from his deflated shoulders.

Regardless of his methods, Rintarou had been serious from the start.

To me, Rintarou was no longer a stranger. He was Asahi-san’s younger brother, someone I’d had fairly intense conversations with during this election.

So, I’ll say it.

I’ve earned the right to say this now.

“Rintarou, isn’t it time you stopped letting your emotions get the better of you?”

Rintarou looked up.

As I’d told him before, I try to stay as rational as possible to survive in this academy. Even so, there are times when I reach my limit and let my emotions get the better of me.

But it seemed Rintarou was the same.

“All you’re doing is trying to get back at Asahi-san. That’s the only reason you’re keeping up this smear campaign.”

Ever since Takuma-san explained the “politician types” at Kiou Academy, I’d felt something was off. …Rintarou didn’t fit that mold.

Rintarou wasn’t someone who’d use any means necessary.

He wasn’t a politician type… just a kid acting out emotionally.

“…Getting back at her? I’m not that childish.”

Rintarou said, clearly confused.

He didn’t seem to understand why I’d say something like that.

“I’m using rational strategies to make Joutou-senpai president—”

“Top of your class since enrollment.”

I cut off Rintarou’s excuse.

“You aced the entrance exam, too, didn’t you? Your attitude in class is outstanding… always speaking up, earning high praise from teachers.”

Of course, I’d done my homework on Rintarou. At first, I was torn between supporting Tennouji-san or Narika and ran out of time, but now it’s different. Every spare moment, I was digging into Rintarou.

And… I was astonished.

As someone aiming for vice president, Rintarou was undeniably a formidable rival.

“Spreading rumors this far means you’ve got a lot of influence. You wouldn’t be able to push such baseless gossip unless your classmates trusted you deeply.”

Even among first-year students, many know about Tennouji-san and Narika. Yet many believed Rintarou’s rumors. That’s how much weight his words carry.

Isn’t it strange that I’m even able to go toe-to-toe with someone like Rintarou?

Unless… Rintarou was being driven by personal grudges, throwing him off his game—

“You’re not quite on Hinako-san’s level, but among first-years, you’re as close to her position as it gets. There are students with better family backgrounds, yet you’ve overcome that gap to stand at the top. …Someone like that wouldn’t be limited to smear campaigns.”

“That’s… just speculation.”

“Then why do you look so pained?”

Rintarou fell silent.

“I don’t think it’s 100% about revenge. On day one, Tennouji-san and Narika were neck-and-neck in support. It’s true you probably thought underhanded tactics were your only shot. …But even so, someone like you could’ve found other ways.”

Rintarou’s hands, resting on the table, clenched into fists.

“Imagine this. If you and Asahi-san hadn’t had that falling-out… would you really have chosen this way to make Joutou-kun win?”

“…!”

“You’re aiming to start your own company, right? You’ve already been honing the skills for it, haven’t you? With that level of ambition, why stick to such a petty approach?”

I said to Rintarou, whose face had hardened.

“I’m not underestimating you.”

I spoke to Rintarou, whose eyes were wandering.

“You could’ve taken a different path, but you chose a hurtful one, hoping it’d double as payback against Asahi-san.”

Just a tantrum. A childish outburst.

Rintarou’s smear campaign was nothing more than lashing out at others for not doing what he wanted.

I’d been misunderstanding this whole time.

This wasn’t business or politics. It wasn’t some cunning strategic game.

What Rintarou was grappling with was an emotional issue anyone could have.

And probably… the only one who’d noticed that from the start was Asahi-san.

“Rintarou… Just because you got hurt doesn’t give you the right to hurt others.”

With that final statement, I waited for Rintarou’s response.

Rintarou bit his lip, his body trembling faintly. His head stayed bowed, like a child scolded by a parent.

(…He didn’t even realize.)

I’d had a hunch.

His efforts to make Joutou president and his resentment toward Asahi-san had somehow gotten tangled up. But now, hearing my words, he finally realized. All he’d been doing was trying to get revenge…

“…Suppose,” Rintarou said in a frail voice.

“Suppose I was just trying to get revenge… so what?”

Rintarou’s choice—was to double down.

“My answer doesn’t change. …If you want me to stop, join our side.”

That was the one thing I still couldn’t wrap my head around.

Rintarou had been trying to recruit me this whole time. Even before he suspected I might be a commoner, he’d consistently kept up that stance.

I don’t know why, but… no matter what, I can’t agree to his demands. The person I want to support is someone else.

“…I know one way to stop you.”

This is probably the simplest method.

“The smear campaign… you didn’t get Joutou-kun’s permission, did you?”

Rintarou’s eyes widened, his reaction confirming I’d hit the mark.

“I know because I talked to Joutou-kun. He’s not the kind of guy who’d approve of this, is he? And I’m guessing recruiting me was your call alone, too, right?”

When I spoke with Joutou alongside Hinako, I thought something felt off.

For someone supposedly trying to recruit me, he was oddly formal. I wondered if I was being self-conscious, so I asked Hinako for her take, and she felt the same unease.

The recruitment, the smear campaign—Joutou had nothing to do with any of it.

“…Are you planning to report my actions to Joutou-senpai?”

“…That depends on what you do next.”

Rintarou gave me a puzzled look, as if wondering why I hadn’t reported him from the start if I’d known.

Because before I could, a big question popped up.

Why—did Rintarou have to do all of this on his own?

Why—did Rintarou, a vice-presidential candidate, have to go this far?

Why—did Rintarou, a vice-presidential candidate, have to go to such lengths?

Why—did Rintarou have to bear this burden alone?

I think the smear campaign is mostly about getting back at Asahi-san. But if that’s the case, what about the scouting aimed at me?

Why did it have to be Rintarou instead of Joutou?

“Joutou-kun’s family seems to value tradition highly.”

“…You’ve looked into it that deeply?”

I heard it from Tennouji-san.

In any circle, reform can bring pain. That pain could become a vulnerability in the political world where Joutou’s parents operate, a weak spot they’d rather not have exposed.

To survive in politics, Joutou’s parents likely don’t want their son stirring up trouble. Politicians are always under scrutiny, and a son’s misstep could tighten the noose around their necks.

In such an environment, is Joutou truly serious about pushing for reform at this academy?

To me… it didn’t seem that way.

“Rintarou, maybe Joutou-kun doesn’t even intend to win—”

“—That’s irrelevant.”

Rintarou recoiled, as if turning away from the harsh reality thrust before him.

“Joutou-senpai’s ideals are genuine. He’s the one who should stand at the top of this academy.”

Rintarou stood and left the café.

I picked up the untouched cup and downed the coffee in one gulp.

The cold bitterness helped me shift gears mentally.

“…Alright.”

I’ve made up my mind.

I’m diving headfirst into this sibling squabble.

◆

As I walked through the covered corridor, I heard Tennouji-san’s speech. Her speech that day was held in front of the gymnasium, and as I approached, I saw a crowd gathered around her.

I approached a girl watching the crowd from a slight distance.

“Tomonari-kun?”

“Asahi-san… I have something to talk about regarding Rintarou.”

Perhaps sensing the seriousness in my expression, Asahi-san gave a small nod and followed me away from the gymnasium.

On the way, I glanced back and locked eyes with Tennouji-san mid-speech. Seeing me with Asahi-san, she likely guessed it was about Rintarou. For a fleeting moment, she smiled, as if to say, Leave this to me, before resuming her speech with renewed vigor.

Grateful for Tennouji-san’s reliability, I led Asahi-san around to the back of the gymnasium.

After confirming no one else was around, I shared the details of my conversation with Rintarou.

“…I see. So it was all Rintarou’s doing, and Joutou-kun knew nothing about it.”

Asahi-san clutched her head after hearing the story.

“What do I do… During lunch break today, I kinda glared at Joutou-kun…”

“It’s understandable. Even I figured Rintarou was the mastermind, but I didn’t expect he’d keep it a secret from Joutou-kun.”

Still, I hadn’t anticipated he’d admit it so readily.

I still don’t quite understand why Rintarou is so loose-lipped with me alone. He even said he’d always planned to tell me he was behind the smear campaign…

“So, if we get Joutou-kun to stop Rintarou, everything’s solved, right?”

Exactly.

Exactly, but… I shook my head.

“No, let’s not do that.”

“Huh, why…?”

“That approach leaves Rintarou’s issues unresolved.”

If we snitch to Joutou, Rintarou might quiet down temporarily. But once the election’s over and he’s free from Joutou’s leash, he’ll probably pull the same stunt somewhere else.

Like, say, at Asahi-san’s family business…

“But that’s… that’s our sibling stuff. Tomonari-kun, you don’t need to worry about it…”

“No, let me worry about it.”

To Asahi-san, who spoke apologetically, I made it clear I was ready to wade deep into their sibling feud.

The biggest reason I couldn’t leave it alone was seeing Asahi-san hurt, but saying that would only make her feel more guilty and shut down.

So I explained the selfish part instead.

I had my own reasons for wanting to end this sibling spat.

“The Management Game was tough but fun for me. It taught me the value of competing earnestly with others, something I learned firsthand. …I’m hoping for that in this election, too.”

This was pure ego, my honest truth.

I’d hoped this election would bring another valuable experience. The Management Game taught me that if everyone involved can walk away feeling fulfilled, even if things are tense or awkward during the event, once it’s over, you can become decently close neighbors. Ikuno and Suminoe-san are perfect examples for me. I met them through the Management Game, and now we can talk casually.

I’m satisfied with that outcome.

And I want the same this time.

“Sorry for being self-righteous. I want this election to feel clean. Win or lose, I want us all to laugh together in the end. When this election’s over… I want to get along with Rintarou, too.”

I want to get along with Rintarou.

When I said that, Asahi-san’s eyes widened.

If Rintarou were coldly, rationally trying to sabotage us, I wouldn’t have made this suggestion. As harsh as it sounds for Asahi-san, I’d probably have ratted him out to Joutou to stop him.

But I believe Rintarou wouldn’t have resorted to these tactics if it weren’t for his feud with Asahi-san.

If that’s the case, the root of the problem isn’t Rintarou himself.

If we can just mediate this sibling fight… everything could come together neatly.

“So, please let me help settle your sibling feud. …I want us all—me, Asahi-san, Rintarou—to fight this battle cleanly.”

Rintarou’s dragging his sibling feud into the election.

Maybe… we could ignore it if we wanted to.

But even if I became vice president that way—I’d lose something.

If I stepped on the hurting Asahi-san and the struggling Rintarou to claim the vice president’s seat, I wouldn’t be able to hold my head high in that role.

“…Thank you.”

Asahi-san whispered her gratitude.

“For thinking so seriously about me… no, about us.”

Her eyes were misty.

I’d tried to emphasize that this was for my own sake, but maybe that was an unnecessary consideration for Asahi-san.

She’d probably wanted to end this sibling feud for a long time, too.

Wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, Asahi-san looked at me.

“Tomonari-kun… can I rely on you?”

Feeling her determination to move forward, I nodded without hesitation.

“Yes. You’ve always helped me, Asahi-san, so let me return the favor at least this much.”

“Haha… Tomonari-kun, you’ve really become dependable, haven’t you?”

Was she remembering the first time we met?

Over the past six months, I’ve done my best to live earnestly. If those daily efforts have made me someone reliable, then I absolutely should help Asahi-san now.

If the path I’ve walked so far is the right one, I want to continue being there for someone, just as I was before.

“Ugh, no wonder so many people like you~”

Asahi-san said with a laugh.

“Am I that well-liked?”

“Yup. In all sorts of ways.”

In all sorts of ways?

I tilted my head at the added remark. Asahi-san just smiled at my confusion.

“Anyway, I’d like to start planning how to reconcile the two of them… but first, there’s one thing I want to ask you, Asahi-san.”

As Asahi-san shifted to a serious expression, I asked,

“Why did you betray Rintarou in the first place?”

Asahi-san’s face stiffened.

“I heard you gave up on starting your own business and decided to take over the family company… but it’s not just for future stability or something simple like that, right? I don’t think you’d betray Rintarou for such a straightforward reason, Asahi-san, even if others might.”

Deciding to take over the family business for future stability seems like a pretty normal choice. That’s why I never questioned it before. However, given that guilt has been weighing on Asahi-san lately, I began to wonder if there was something more specific behind it.

Asahi-san isn’t the type to betray someone just for self-preservation.

There must be some special circumstance that caused this rift with her brother.

“The reason I betrayed Rintarou… it does exist.”

Asahi-san said in a frail voice.

“But even if I told Rintarou now… it wouldn’t be convincing.”

“So, you had a goal, but it’s not quite on track yet?”

“Yeah…”

Got it.

Then it’s simple.

“In other words, it’s time for a consultant to step in.”

All I need to do is help Asahi-san achieve her goal.

Asahi-san’s mouth dropped open, utterly stunned.

◇

Returning home, Rintarou headed straight to his room without a glance elsewhere and flopped onto his bed, still in his uniform.

After talking with Izuki at the café, Rintarou went about his usual task of supporting Joutou Ren’s speech. He meticulously checked the audience’s reactions and the reach of Ren’s voice, gesturing immediately if adjustments were needed to improve in real-time—that was Rintarou’s method.

For instance, that day, he raised the microphone’s volume higher than planned. It was the sixth day of the election period, and the audience was starting to lose focus. Their chatter was louder than usual, so he increased the volume to cut through the noise.

Joutou Ren’s approval ratings were climbing.

The exhaustion in his entire body was a testament to his fulfilment.

If only Joutou Ren had the will to win—.

“…Damn it.”

Even as the numbers rose, he felt no real sense of nearing his goal. Sometimes, he wondered if he was just wearing himself out for nothing.

Rintarou thought of Tomonari Izuki.

That guy was the final piece they’d been missing. If Izuki joined their side, Ren could win even in his current state.

But negotiations had been rocky from start to finish.

Worse, now it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say Izuki had dirt on him.

(If he snitches to Joutou-senpai… it’s all over.)

As Izuki had read him, Rintarou had carried out the smear campaign behind Joutou Ren’s back. If that got out, he’d be completely cornered.

There was a mountain of tasks to do for the election, but right now, he couldn’t muster the energy to get out of bed.

Staring at the ceiling, he heard a noise from the next room.

It seemed his sister, Karen, was back. It was 7 p.m.—a pretty late hour. Since the election started, Rintarou had been staying late to discuss campaign strategies with Ren, getting home around 6 p.m. That was already longer than most students lingered at the academy, but Karen had apparently stayed even later today.

She wasn’t running for student council, so what was she doing at the academy this late in the election season?

As suspicion crept in, he heard the door to the next room open and close hurriedly, followed by loud footsteps echoing down the hall.

…So noisy.

His sister’s unusual behavior irritated him.

Checking the clock made him notice his hunger. Getting off the bed, Rintarou headed to the dining room.

He didn’t want to face his family, but holing up in his room to eat felt like something a rebellious kid would do, and he hated that.

Just before entering the dining room, he heard his sister Karen’s voice… and his father’s.

“Karen, that plan needs the other party’s agreement—”

“Yeah, but Tomonari-kun will handle that—”

Opening the dining room door, they both stopped talking and looked at him.

Were they discussing something they didn’t want overheard? He wanted to say he didn’t care, but the mention of Tomonari Izuki’s name nagged at him.

If Izuki had shared everything with Karen… she’d probably run straight to Joutou and spill Rintarou’s reckless actions.

Was that what they were talking about?

Glaring at them with suspicion—

“Rintarou.”

His sister called out to him.

Ignoring her, he sat in a chair far from them.

“Rintarou!”

Karen’s loud voice echoed through the dining room.

He reflexively turned around.

“…What is it?”

“Tomorrow after school, give me some of your time.”

Karen’s expression brimmed with firm resolve.

“There’s something I absolutely need you to hear.”

Her powerful tone was unlike the sister he’d known.

It wasn’t just defiance. Sensing her determination, Rintarou couldn’t brush her off as usual.

“…If it’s something trivial, I won’t let it slide.”

Rintarou shot her a sharp glare.

But she glared back with equal intensity.

His irritation flared.

Now…

What could she possibly do now…?

◆

After school on the seventh day of the election period.

Having finished our respective speeches, we gathered at the café.

Seven of us crowded around a single table, which might’ve drawn some attention, so we were guided to a seat in the back. The group was the usual noble tea party crew—me, Hinako, Tennouji-san, Narika, Asahi-san, and Taishou—plus our sole underclassman, Rintarou.

“I see.”

As everyone’s drinks arrived, Rintarou was the first to take a sip of his coffee.

“Ganging up on the lone underclassman, huh?”

“That’s not it.”

Asahi-san shook her head.

“I invited everyone because I wanted them to hear what we’re about to discuss. …But it’s just me and Tomonari-kun talking with you, Rintarou.”

Exactly. We had no intention of intimidating Rintarou. It might look that way, and it’s no surprise he’d feel cornered, but if he could still toss out quips like that, he’d be fine.

Besides, he’d brought this situation on himself.

“Everyone here is involved in what we’re about to discuss. Like, say, the smear campaign.”

It goes without saying that Tennouji-san and Narika are directly affected by the smear campaign.

Taishou’s reason for being here will come up shortly.

And Hinako’s reason—well, she’s probably involved in this matter, too.

“First, there’s something I need to share with everyone.”

I started by filling Tennouji-san, Narika, and the others in on the background.

“All the smear campaigning so far has been Rintarou’s doing, without Joutou-kun’s knowledge.”

Tennouji-san and the others showed varying degrees of surprise.

They seemed to have questions, but they held back for now. They likely sensed that this discussion was meant for me, Asahi-san, and Rintarou. If everyone chimed in freely, it’d spiral out of control.

“I think Rintarou had several reasons for going that far, but one of them, I believe, is his sibling feud with Asahi-san.”

Saying this, I looked at Rintarou.

At first, Rintarou had denied this possibility. He’d said he wasn’t that immature, that he wasn’t thinking of getting back at his sister.

But now, with a solemn expression, he spoke.

“I’ve had time to think since then. …I’ll admit it. My actions did include some personal resentment toward Ane-san.”

“!”

Glaring at Rintarou, Asahi-san’s face twisted in sadness.

But she endured. Pressing her lips together, she didn’t look away from him.

“Rintarou, I’m going to put an end to your sibling feud from here on out.”

“…Huh?”

Rintarou looked stunned.

He’d probably thought this meeting was about persuading him to stop the smear campaign.

That’s not it. We brought him here today to put a period on their sibling feud.

“Rintarou, do you know why Asahi-san decided to take over the family business?”

“…Obviously, it’s for her own sake. We saw our father’s disgrace and learned what we needed to do for each other. To throw that away… it’s unbelievable.”

Rintarou glared at Asahi-san.

But I knew better. Asahi-san hadn’t done anything to deserve such resentment.

“Even if it was to protect you?”

Rintarou’s eyes widened.

“Protect… me?”

He looked at Asahi-san.

From here, I’d let Asahi-san explain.

“You probably know this, Rintarou, but… right now, Papa’s pretty isolated at the company, right?”

Rintarou said nothing, so Asahi-san continued.

“If neither of us took over… our company would probably end up in the hands of someone who hates our family.”

Asahi-san had mentioned before.

At J’s Holdings, there’s talk of an anti-Asahi faction rising, one that shuns Asahi-san’s father. Later, Rintarou would fan the flames of their momentum, but the faction’s emergence predates Asahi-san’s betrayal of Rintarou.

“The company Rintarou’s trying to start—it’s that electronics retail chain we dreamed up together back then, right?”

“…That’s right. My issue was always with the internal structure, not the products themselves. I planned to leverage our family’s expertise and focus on electronics.”

“So, the company Rintarou’s launching and the one Papa’s running now—they’ll be in the same industry, won’t they?”

Rintarou shot Asahi-san a suspicious glance, as if to say, What’s your point?

But… this is the crucial part.

“If neither Rintarou nor I take over J’s Holdings… that company could become a massive enemy, you know.”

Enemy. That single word elicited a faint reaction from Rintarou.

“It’s one of the top five electronics retailers in the country by revenue, even if just barely. Its history and capital are on a whole different level. Do you really think a startup could compete? It’s far too big to make an enemy of.”

“…Just because we’re in the same industry doesn’t mean we’ll automatically be rivals. Besides, I plan to win over and poach the employees who dislike Father.”

“You can’t possibly poach everyone, right? Our company’s full of people who despise our entire family. Those are the ones who’ll end up taking over. If Rintarou starts a company, they’ll definitely try to sabotage you.”

Rintarou is exceptional. His grades at Kiou Academy prove it.

But his very brilliance makes him a target. There will always be people eager to crush a promising rival before they can reach their full potential.

I’d heard Rintarou was working to win over J’s Holdings employees, but it seems his efforts weren’t foolproof. J’s Holdings, including its subsidiaries, employs over five thousand people. With representatives at each company, there are plenty of candidates for the next president.

Asahi-san’s father is said to have no issues with his business acumen, so regular employees don’t dislike him. Those who do are the higher-ups who know his personality. In other words, the anti-Asahi faction is concentrated at the top of J’s Holdings.

Those at the top are thoughtful and cautious. No matter how much Rintarou tries to use his father as a stepping stone to curry favor, winning over all of them is a near-impossible feat.

If Asahi-san and Rintarou both walk away from J’s Holdings, one of the anti-Asahi faction at the top will likely take over. The future Asahi-san foresaw is highly plausible.

“Besides, Rintarou, you know starting a business isn’t that simple. The odds of failure are much higher.”

I thought the same during the Management Game. In a game, you can grow a company automatically after starting it, but in reality, you’d hit countless walls along the way. Even securing funding isn’t easy.

Even for students at Kiou Academy, there is no guarantee that a startup will succeed.

“If Rintarou fails… it’d be painful not to have a place to return to. That’s why I wanted to preserve that place for you.”

Reflecting on her resolve back then, Asahi-san spoke.

“I… chose to take over the family business to protect our family.”

Rintarou’s eyes widened.

This was the reason Asahi-san betrayed Rintarou.

If neither sibling took over, J’s Holdings would fall into a third party’s hands. If the startup succeeded, that might be fine. But if it failed? There’d be nowhere to return to. With J’s Holdings in the hands of the anti-Asahi faction, there’d be no way to reclaim it, and their old life would be gone.

Asahi-san was thinking about what would happen if Rintarou failed.

She acted to avoid the worst-case scenario, where their entire family might end up on the streets.

“In short, Asahi-san wanted to keep a place for Rintarou to come back to, even if he failed.”

And that meant charging alone into a battlefield raging with the headwinds of the anti-Asahi faction—a testament to her resolve.

Asahi-san’s determination to protect her family was in no way inferior to Rintarou’s resolve to start his own company.

Rintarou clenched his fists and glared at his sister.

“Why… didn’t you tell me this until now…?”

There were two reasons.

The first was Asahi-san’s kindness. As an older sister, she couldn’t bring herself to say something as self-aggrandizing as, I’m protecting the family so you can fail. She also didn’t want to throw cold water on Rintarou’s enthusiasm for his startup.

However, there was a second, more significant reason.

“It’s because I wasn’t capable enough.”

Asahi-san said apologetically.

“I thought if I was going to bring this up, I needed to prove I wouldn’t end up like Papa. I decided I’d talk to you once I found a breakthrough… but I’m sorry. I kept thinking, but I couldn’t find one. I tried my best, but unlike you, my grades never improved that much.”

Asahi-san laughed self-deprecatingly.

Rintarou’s grades are undeniably outstanding. But Asahi-san’s are far above average in the intense environment of Kiou Academy. During the study session, when I first transferred here, she was one of the ones teaching.

She believed she shouldn’t try to persuade her brother unless she had substantial ability.

That self-imposed rule had trapped Asahi-san in her own binds.

“But I finally feel like I can move forward, so I decided to talk to you today.”

I caught Asahi-san’s glance.

“Rintarou, read this.”

I pulled some documents from my bag and handed them to Rintarou.

“This is…”

“You know how Asahi-san ran a mobile electronics sales business in the Management Game, right?”

Rintarou nodded slightly.

“This is—the business plan for it.”

While passing the same documents to Hinako and the others, I answered Rintarou’s question.

Asahi-san wanted to protect her family, but she couldn’t figure out how to do so.

So I prepared this plan for her.

“Asahi-san will take the lead in making this business a reality.”

This is her first step toward protecting her family.

“After the election, I plan to submit this to the company’s internal review. Tomonari-kun and I worked together on everything from market analysis to revenue models. Papa reviewed the plan’s quality, and if things go smoothly, my Management Game track record should help it get serious consideration.”

“…Do you really think it’ll pass? Even if the plan’s solid, that company’s full of people who hate Father—”

“—That’s why I’ll push it through under my name!”

Asahi-san stood, raising her voice in response.

“I’ll do it, and I’ll prove I’m worthy of being the next president!”

For Rintarou’s sake, Asahi-san made that decision.

Legally, it’s tough for Asahi-san to directly manage employees, so her name might not be front and center. But what matters is the substance. If her father, the president, approves, she can freely engage with the company and join meetings.

She might face accusations of overstepping. But she’s ready for that level of resistance.

The goal is to show the anti-Asahi faction what she’s capable of.

Using this business, Asahi-san will demonstrate her resolve and work ethic to the company.

Asahi Karen is worthy of being president—that’s the impression she needs to make.

“I’ve cut off my retreat and made up my mind. Being a student doesn’t matter. I’ll throw myself into the company to protect our family. To ensure I don’t lose people’s trust like Papa did when I take over, I’ll build my track record now.”

With her resolve firm, Asahi-san faced Rintarou confidently.

“…This business shouldn’t belong solely to our company.”

Flipping through the plan, Rintarou spoke in a strained voice.

“If you can make this business plan succeed, you’ll earn the company’s trust. But what about Taishou’s moving company, which should be involved? Looking at this plan, it feels like they’ve handed all the rights to J’s Holdings…”

Doubting that could be true, Rintarou looked at Taishou.

But Taishou nodded seriously.

“Yeah, we handed it over.”

I’d called Taishou here to discuss this.

Taishou explained as if it were the most natural thing.

“I bowed my head to my old man and gave the business’s branding to J’s Holdings.”

“Why would you do that…?”

“I said it was for a friend, and he agreed right away. Our company values loyalty. Long-standing B-to-C businesses tend to be like that, big or small. Isn’t that the kind of company you want to build, too?”

“…!”

Taishou’s father was a president who valued relationships.

From his father’s example, Rintarou must have learned the importance of not just profit and loss but standing in employees’ shoes—considering people’s feelings.

Taishou was simply acting on that principle. Ironically, the Taishou standing in Rintarou’s way now embodied Rintarou’s ideal.

The unsung MVP this time is undoubtedly Taishou. I managed to put this business plan together overnight because Taishou didn’t hesitate for a second to plead with his father.

Taishou’s definitely going to be an amazing president someday…

“My old man laughed and said J’s Holdings will be a key client from now on, so it’s fine to rack up favors. …Rintarou, looks like your sister’s got high expectations from a lot of grown-ups.”

Rintarou looked at Asahi-san with a stern expression.

Asahi-san straightened her back, her serious face showing no trace of shame.

“Joutou-kun’s running as a reformist challenging Kiou Academy’s traditions, right?”

Asahi-san asked as she sat back down, and Rintarou nodded silently.

“Are you the same, Rintarou? Do you think traditions are bad?”

“…I do. If outdated customs are holding us back, it’s better to aim for something new and take flight. Even our company’s like that. Why bother inheriting a crumbling facade of a castle? I don’t get it…”

Rintarou answered in a frail voice.

Almost as if he felt guilty somehow.

“But we’ve been protected by those traditions.”

Asahi-san said calmly.

“Our family has always been safeguarded by the company. Our entire life has been sustained by tradition. That’s why I want to fight to protect it.”

Asahi-san declared her battlefield and her reason for fighting.

“I think Papa failed. He deeply regrets it himself. That’s why I’m taking over—not to discard his failures but to make use of them.”

Making use of failure. Maybe that’s what tradition really is.

Listening to Asahi-san made me think so.

“I’ll protect our family’s place. So, Rintarou, you’re free to live as you want. But from now on, don’t use underhanded tactics like this. Stop dragging Papa’s name through the mud.”

With that, Asahi-san bowed her head.

“Rintarou… please.”

Rintarou’s face looked like he might cry, desperately grappling with something in his mind.

There are real people protected by tradition. Calling it vested interests sounds harsh, but Asahi-san’s family has been sustained by it.

As children, they witnessed the collapse of their foundation. Rintarou, who thinks they should soar, and Asahi-san, who thinks they should rebuild—both deserve respect. Rintarou, as he is now, must understand that.

There’s nothing wrong with Rintarou starting a company or supporting Joutou as a reformist. But now that his resentment toward his sister is gone, what does he think of his past actions?

With those clear eyes, free of clouds, what does he feel when he reflects on himself?

“…I understand.”

Rintarou said in a trembling voice.

Asahi-san lifted her face.

“Either way, I knew relying on dirty tricks would eventually hit a wall. This time, if Joutou-senpai had ratted me out, I wouldn’t have been able to resist…”

Rintarou let out a deep, deep breath.

“That’s enough… I’m tired.”

With those final words, Rintarou lowered his head and went still.

I exchanged glances with Tennouji-san, Narika, and the others. The looks flying around seemed to ask, Does this mean we succeeded in convincing him?

…I think we can consider it a success.

I felt Rintarou’s true feelings were packed into his last words: I’m tired. And no wonder. Climbing the ladder by spreading malicious gossip, racking your brain to come up with accusations to tear others down…

Rintarou is smart. Smart enough to vaguely realize his actions were wrong.

His slumped shoulders looked lighter somehow, despite facing downward. Perhaps Rintarou had long wanted to shed the burden he’d been carrying—the unbearable weight of guilt pressing on both shoulders.

Maybe Rintarou had been waiting for this day… or is that too convenient a thought?

No, it’s not.

Because Rintarou had always…

“…Hey, Rintarou.”

When I called out, Rintarou looked up.

Staring into his face, I voiced something that had been nagging at me.

“The reason you kept trying to recruit me—”

“—What’s this?”

A voice from behind startled me so much I nearly jumped.

I whipped around. Standing there was—

“What’s going on here…?”

“…Joutou-kun.”

Joutou’s eyes locked onto Rintarou.

Seeing Rintarou’s deeply dejected state, Joutou’s face flickered with a hint of anger.

“Rintarou, what happened?”

“Joutou-senpai…”

Rintarou curled in on himself right there.

“…I’m sorry. I have something I need to apologize to you for.”

Was he about to confess to acting on his own?

Asahi-san and I exchanged a glance. Truth be told, we’d decided beforehand that if we could resolve their sibling feud, we’d let all of Rintarou’s actions slide.

We believed that if Rintarou reconciled with Asahi-san, they could compete openly and honestly.

So, it was fine now…

Rintarou had been carrying so much, pushed to the brink. I thought it was okay for him to find relief now, but—

“Is it about the rumors circulating around the academy?”

“—!”

Rintarou was speechless with shock.

But we were just as stunned.

“You… knew?”

“Vaguely.”

Joutou gazed at Rintarou with gentle eyes.

“You don’t need to apologize, Rintarou.”

With an apologetic expression, Joutou approached Rintarou and lightly patted his head.

“Driving you to that point… it’s because of my weakness, isn’t it?”

Tears spilled from Rintarou’s eyes.

Joutou, the candidate for president, and Rintarou, his aide. I’d sensed they were more than just friends, but the deep trust before me hinted at something greater.

What is this bond…?

Come to think of it, where did they even meet?

◇

Joutou Ren and Asahi Rintarou met two years ago at a high-society event.

It was a party hosted by a political organization where Ren’s father was a member. Ren attended as the organizer’s son, while Rintarou was there as a potential heir invited through his father.

Back then, Rintarou had already given up on his father and had no intention of becoming his successor, but he saw the event as a rare opportunity and joined. Betrayed by his sister and cornered, Rintarou was seeking connections outside the family.

Meanwhile, Ren was expected by those around him to follow in his father’s footsteps, and he’d been told to network with politicians and tycoons he might one day rely on.

But once the party began, both their fathers got busy, leaving Ren and Rintarou with nothing to do.

In a room with few kids their age, it was perhaps inevitable that their wandering gazes would eventually meet.

Ren and Rintarou hit it off instantly.

Because they were kindred spirits.

Rintarou had witnessed his father’s incompetence as president firsthand and harboured doubts about the educational philosophy of Kiou Academy, where he’d soon enroll.

Ren, on the other hand, felt unease with the narrow-minded views of his politician father and grandfather. He understood they were shaped by the need to survive in a political world full of cunning old foxes. Still, their insistence on instilling risk-averse stability in him often made him sick. To avoid family scandals, Ren had been told since childhood to “not make waves.” His father’s advice—better phrased as “don’t have your own ideas”—imposed a suffocatingly restrictive life. He even resented Kiou Academy for producing such a father and grandfather.

Ren and Rintarou were fed up with the rigid ideologies of adults.

And they wondered if they could change the root of it all: Kiou Academy.

“What if you became student council president?”

As their conversation deepened, they’d moved to a new spot. Slipping away from the venue, they leaned on the railing of an open atrium, continuing their discussion.

At Rintarou’s suggestion, Ren’s eyes widened, but he soon shook his head.

“That’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“Becoming president would be fine. But if I tried to change Kiou Academy’s traditions, my father would stop me. He’s terrified of me standing out in a bad way.”

Reforming Kiou Academy’s system was a tall order for someone in Ren’s position.

“But if that’s the case, people like us will keep showing up forever.”

Ren pondered Rintarou’s earnest plea.

He wanted to at least offer an alternative. After thinking, he arrived at an idea.

“…In my year, there’s a prodigy named Konohana Hinako.”

Ren recalled a girl he’d met a few times in high society.

“She’s supposed to enroll at Kiou Academy next year, too. I think she’d understand our perspective. Why not entrust it to her?”

“Entrust? What do you mean?”

“I can’t become president, but I’ll run in the election.”

Ren explained his clever plan.

“On the surface, I’ll aim for president. But my real goal is to bring our concerns to the entire student body. If I can do that, Konohana Hinako will become president and take the issues we’ve raised seriously.”

That way, Ren wouldn’t need to be president.

He could personally raise the issues with Konohana Hinako as president, but that lacked certainty. If the whole student body shared the concerns, President Konohana Hinako would have no choice but to act. So they’d create that situation themselves.

But Rintarou frowned.

“…I’m against it. I want you to become president, Joutou-senpai.”

“Don’t ask the impossible. Even without my family’s constraints, beating Konohana-san is out of the question. She’s that perfect.”

“It’s not impossible!”

Rintarou declared firmly.

“Promise me. If you’re chosen as president, you’ll fight alongside me with conviction. Promise you’ll change this world with me!”

Sensing Rintarou’s resolve, Ren lets out a deep breath.

“…Alright, I promise. But I’m not aiming to become president, got it? I’ll join the election, but I’m only doing what’s necessary to raise the issues.”

“As long as you keep that promise, that’s more than enough.”

It was clear that Ren thought becoming president was an unattainable dream.

Yet, that promise ignited an unparalleled fire in Rintarou.

“I’ll make absolutely sure you become president, Senpai. …No matter what it takes.”

Ren caught the eerie glint in Rintarou’s eyes.

He saw it… but chose to ignore it.

Tradition. Customs. Status. Environment. Ren knew that destroying them was no easy feat, requiring the kind of extraordinary obsession Rintarou had just shown.

So, after enrolling at Kiou Academy, Ren devoted himself to improving his grades for a while.

It was a test of his own resolve. He wanted to build the confidence that he had the ability to challenge the academy. He refused to become someone who only complained without substance.

Bound by his father’s curse, he couldn’t lead the reforms himself. But even just raising the signal for change carried responsibility. He wanted to become someone capable of bearing that weight.

One day, after the results of a regular exam came out, Ren checked on Hinako in another class.

A classmate was pleading with Hinako to help with studies.

“Konohana-san, could you teach me about political science?”

Hinako thought for a moment before answering.

“I don’t mind, but for political science, Joutou-kun in the next class is much more knowledgeable.”

He was recognized—.

Konohana Hinako remembered his name—.

At that moment, Ren felt he’d gained the confidence he sought and the right to speak to Konohana Hinako when the time came. It wasn’t that he slacked off, but since he couldn’t become president, he decided further effort was unnecessary and let his focus on studies fade.

From then on, Ren quietly faded into the background… to avoid his father seeing through his schemes.

One year later.

The student council election period began, and Rintarou teamed up with Ren.

As promised, Rintarou supported Ren with all his might. But Ren, true to his word, tackled the campaign seriously only up to raising issues, refusing to put in effort to actually become president.

After school, Rintarou, alone in the classroom, clutched his head.

(With Joutou-senpai lacking motivation, beating those two with straightforward tactics might be tough.)

Looking at the first day’s election polls, he despaired at the gap in support.

Rintarou glanced at the notebook spread on his desk. He’d jotted down every idea for winning the election, from practical to absurd. Now, hitting a wall, he looked at his notes with the desperation of grasping at straws.

Among them was one idea he could act on immediately.

(A smear campaign… If I spread rumors among the first-years, it’s not impossible…)

He’d actively built connections with classmates for moments like this.

It was a sure bet. After all, Rintarou had a track record of using this tactic to win over company executives.

It was a dirty move. Ren might not approve.

As he hesitated, for some reason, his sister’s face flashed through his mind. The irritation in his chest reached his brain, and Rintarou decided to go through with the plan.

(But if it gets exposed, it could ruin Joutou-senpai’s image.)

Considering the risk of getting caught, he couldn’t involve Ren in this strategy. If he did it, it had to be on his own. He had to avoid any scenario where Ren faced blame.

(Even if it doesn’t get exposed… would that create a healthy student council?)

To Rintarou, Joutou Ren was an incredible senior. On the day they first met at a social event, they had a heated debate, but Ren’s insights surpassed Rintarou’s. Unlike Rintarou, who was merely fed up with the elite environment centered on Kiou Academy, Ren had already been thinking about the kind of platform he presented in this election back then.

That’s why Rintarou wondered if someone like him deserved to stand beside Ren as president. He didn’t mind tarnishing himself, but he didn’t want to drag Ren’s life through the mud.

Sweat poured from his forehead as he thought.

He might become a weakness for Ren someday.

If that were the case…

(…I just need to prepare a replacement vice president.)

After getting his hands dirty, he could step down and pass the vice president role to someone else. That would keep Ren’s circle clean and create an unshakeable student council.

He didn’t feel sad. From the start, Rintarou’s reason for joining the election was to reform Kiou Academy’s system. As long as that was achieved, he didn’t need to be in the student council.

He had no attachment to the vice president position.

That’s why his intentions were pure.

Rintarou left the classroom and headed to the first-floor hallway.

(As a vice president candidate besides me… Tomonari Izuki-senpai, maybe.)

Rintarou stopped in front of the ‘A Peek into the Daily Lives of the Candidates!!’ corner set up by the previous student council, deep in thought.

He’d already thoroughly researched Tomonari Izuki, a rival for the vice president position. Despite being a transfer student, Izuki steadily improved his grades. In the management game, he fended off acquisitions by major companies and proposed innovative new businesses, ultimately winning the Consultant Award.

The posted report conveyed his earnestness.

A schedule starting with morning cleaning, diligently balancing studies and exercise.

He didn’t seem like the type to leave personal tasks to servants—unlike Rintarou’s father, who rested on his status.

At the end of the report, there was a comment from a third party.

“His sincere attitude positively influences those around him. Seeing his effort gives others a chance to reflect on themselves.”

Rintarou thought it was a glowing review.

If it was him, he could properly support Ren in place of a sullied Rintarou.

(I’ll entrust it to him.)

In the end, he’d hand the vice president position to Tomonari Izuki. With his achievements, skills, and character, he was more than capable.

So—it was fine for Rintarou to dirty his hands now.

He hesitated on how to pass the role but decided to tell Izuki everything honestly. If Izuki knew Rintarou was behind the smear campaign, his sense of justice would likely compel him to accept the vice president role, believing Rintarou unfit for it.

Having decided his course, Rintarou began spreading the rumors immediately.

The third day of the election period.

After the after-school speeches, Ren parted ways with Rintarou and headed home by car, recalling the day’s events.

(…Strange rumors were going around.)

It happened when he went to the first-year building to meet Rintarou. He overheard first-years arguing about negative gossip concerning Tennouji Mirei and Miyakojima Narika.

As their classmate, Ren instantly knew the rumors were blatant lies, but some first-years might believe them.

Still, for such rumors to spread at this timing… it felt like someone’s deliberate handiwork.

(…Rintarou?)

He recalled the look in Rintarou’s eyes from two years ago.

He didn’t want to suspect him lightly, but he had an odd certainty—Rintarou was capable of it.

Even so, it didn’t shake him.

Ren’s emotions were complex, and he had to stay strong to keep from breaking. He’d entered the election but couldn’t become president, sticking only to raising issues. It was a mentally grueling fight. Honestly, he had to hold back.

He wasn’t the son of a politician for nothing. He could give better speeches. He could project more charisma. During speeches, he felt the audience’s reactions and sometimes wanted to go all out. Suppressing that took everything.

On the way home, he checked his smartphone and saw emails from a few acquaintances.

Apparently, a survey was circulating among the students of Kiou Academy.

It asked people who supported Konohana Hinako what they expected from her.

(…An interesting survey. Indeed, her supporters are the biggest floating vote.)

It was a sharp move.

Who created it? Since it wasn’t from their camp, it had to be Tennouji Mirei, Miyakojima Narika… or perhaps their supporter, Tomonari Izuki.

It was a likable strategy. Instead of pretending Konohana Hinako’s absence from the race didn’t matter, it faced it head-on to move forward.

With respect, Ren decided to participate in the survey.

What he expected from Konohana Hinako had always been clear in his mind.

Rigid ideologies come from rigid environments.

To change a rigid environment, the organisation needs to improve its airflow.

They needed to broaden the range of students accepted. More freedom, more diversity…

Ren filled out the survey with what was necessary for that.

—The abolition of elitism based on family status.

In the end, Ren believed that achieving this would democratize Kiou Academy.

(Konohana Hinako… why didn’t you…)

Ren put a hand to his forehead.

This election had a major miscalculation.

Konohana Hinako didn’t run for president.

He’d trusted she could handle everything, but the situation changed.

Instead, Tennouji Mirei and Miyakojima Narika stepped up. Both were exceptional, but compared to Konohana Hinako, they left him slightly uneasy.

Rintarou’s schemes might serve as a litmus test.

Ren, doubting the capabilities of Tennouji Mirei and Miyakojima Narika, thought so.

If they succumbed to such schemes… they couldn’t be entrusted with the academy.

◆

“First, let me apologize.”

In front of us, seated around the table, Joutou bowed his head.

“Our carelessness caused offensive rumors to spread. …Please don’t blame Rintarou. It’s all because I was pathetic. I’ll take responsibility and put out the rumors immediately.”

The sudden shift in atmosphere left us struggling to keep up.

Joutou was protecting Rintarou. But it felt less like universal kindness and more like a powerful trust between just the two of them.

“But even so—I still think this academy is too pristine.”

Joutou glared at Tennouji-san and Narika.

“People who are overwhelmed by this level of scheming are poised to rule Kiou Academy. I feel a sense of crisis about that.”

What’s this…?

The aura Joutou was giving off was slowly changing.

Was he always this formidable?

Was he always this commanding?

“Rintarou… I’m sorry for putting you through this. My weak heart made you fight in my place.”

Joutou cast a gentle gaze at Rintarou, who bit his lip in frustration.

“Thanks to you, I’ve woken up.”

Joutou swept his disheveled hair back with both hands, slicking it into an all-back style. His sharp eyes and well-shaped brows were revealed, giving him a bold, commanding presence. It felt perfectly natural. It was obvious this was his true self.

The pathetic air I’d sensed from Joutou until now was gone without a trace.

With a fierce glint in his eyes, Joutou glared at us.

“From here on out—I’ll take the lead.”

A shiver ran through my entire body.

I understood. This was where the real battle began.

A political-type student I’d never encountered before—Joutou Ren.

He had resolved to get serious.