—

  —

  I knocked on the door twice and then waited for a response.

  “Come in,” a voice called.

  Opening the door to Nomura-sensei’s office, I found her standing by her desk, a cup in hand.

  “Thanks for coming, Marcus,” she said, gesturing for me to sit. “I want to congratulate you on your victory.”

  “Thank you, sensei,” I replied.

  She took a sip before continuing. “I called you here to discuss what happens next.” She then raised her cup slightly. “Do you want some?”

  “It’s coffee,” she added with a smile.

  “Yes, please,” I said eagerly—coffee was my weakness.

  She retrieved a cup from a drawer and placed it under the coffee machine. The hiss of brewing espresso filled the room with its rich aroma. Handing me the cup, she watched as I took a grateful sip.

  “Thank you,” I said, savouring the deep flavor. Espresso was always a treat.

  Nomura-sensei took another sip, set down her cup, and crossed her arms, her demeanour serious.

  “The student council election takes place about seven weeks from now.”

  That would put it around the second week of March—longer than I expected.

  “During that time, you'll need to build your team and start campaigning.”

  “Build my team? I see,” I said, assessing the work at hand.

  “You’ll need a vice president, secretary, and treasurer. Choose your team wisely.”

  I understood—winning this election required more than just my efforts; I needed a strong and dedicated team behind me. But finding the right candidates would be more complex.

  “For your vice president, you'll want someone who complements your leadership style—someone reliable, organised, and capable of stepping in when needed,” she continued. “Your secretary should be detail-orientated and adept at communication, while the treasurer must have strong financial acumen and accountability.”

  I nodded, absorbing her insights.

  “Now listen closely, because there are specific requirements for choosing team members.”

  Requirements? This was interesting.

  —

  —

  Upon exiting Nomura-sensei's office, I was surprised to find Hazel waiting for me.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “Can we talk for a bit?”

  Her urgency made me agree without hesitation.

  “Sure,” I replied, falling into step beside her.

  We walked in silence, the weight of unspoken words looming between us like a dense fog. The distant buzz of classrooms in session was the only sound disturbing the calm in the hallways.

  “I want to congratulate you on winning our bet,” Hazel finally said, her voice slightly dejected.

  “Thanks; it wasn’t easy,” I admitted.

  “I know,” she murmured, her steps slowing as we stepped outside into the warmth of the sun. “I feel like I’ve lost my edge. I couldn’t even win second place—that’s what hit me the hardest.”

  There was no denying Hazel's disappointment, and I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. I had learnt from Nomura-sensei about the election results, including the positions and voting percentages, but I decided not to mention it.

  “You need to cheer up,” I whispered.

  “Who said I was feeling down?” she countered, her expression unreadable.

  “Come with me; I’ll treat you to lunch,” I offered.

  “Lunch?” she echoed, surprised. “I don’t think that’s the best idea right now. I just want to rest my head.”

  “Then I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” I said.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, keeping her eyes on the ground as we walked.

  There was a palpable tension between us, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was troubling her deeply.

  “Another competition,” she said suddenly, catching me off guard.

  “What?” I asked, taken aback by her abrupt statement.

  “Me and you—we compete in something else,” she clarified.

  “Why?” I asked, as her comment intrigued my curiosity. But she hesitated, her words lingering in the air before she withdrew.

  “Sorry about that; don't mind me,” she murmured, regretting her actions.

  Once again her sudden vulnerability caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but wonder what was going on beneath her composed facade. Had her defeat in the election truly affected her that deeply?

  We continued our journey in silence until we reached the entrance to her dorm tower, Green. She turned to face me, avoiding my gaze.

  “Thank you for accompanying me back here,” she said, her voice almost audible above a whisper.

  “It's no problem,” I reassured her. Before leaving, I felt compelled to say something. “Anytime you want to compete, just call me.”

  “Call you? Well, then we better exchange numbers,” Hazel answered, smirking a little. We swapped phone numbers.

  “See you later, rival,” she teased before entering her dorm building.

  “Rival, huh?” I thought to myself, slipping on my earbuds and heading back to my room.

  —

  —

  I knew there were things I needed to do when I woke up, so I started by texting Diya. After marketing class, I headed to the green area, where she was already waiting.

  “You got here early,” I said to her as I walked up.

  “Took a shortcut,” she replied with a grin, gesturing for me to sit at the table with her.

  “First of all, congratulations on your nomination,” she said sincerely.

  “Thanks. I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” I acknowledged.

  “Well, get used to it. Becoming president won’t make things any easier,” she remarked with a note of light-hearted cynicism.

  “Anyway, I need your help and advice,” I said, getting straight to the point.

  “Again?” Diya scoffed.

  —

  —

  Each step up the winding path brought us closer to the overlook. Eight minutes of steady ascent had passed, and as we neared the summit, I noticed a contemplative look on Diya's face.

  “What's on your mind?” I asked, curious about her sudden quietness.

  “Why are you really running in this election? Is it just because of Hazel?”

  “Hazel? Why do you think that?” I asked, intrigued by her assumption.

  “Because of this weird competition between you two, you probably joined the election after finding out she was competing, right? Diya clarified.

  “Well, that was one of the reasons, I suppose. I've always been competitive, and when the opportunity arose to challenge someone like Hazel, I couldn't resist,” I shrugged.

  Diya took a moment to process my answer.

  “That’s pretty cool,” Diya finally said as we arrived at the overlook.

  Haku-senpai was waiting for us there, resting against the railing with his phone in hand.

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  “I assume this is our first official meeting, Marcus,” he said, extending his hand for a firm handshake.

  “In a way,” I retorted, reciprocating the handshake.

  After that brief exchange, we positioned ourselves near the railing. I leaned back while Diya stood with her arms crossed, attentive to our conversation.

  “I don't want to waste any of your time, so I'll begin by asking what your opinion of the school is during your time here,” I asked, eager to learn from Haku-senpai's viewpoint.

  

  “Interesting question,” Haku-senpai mused. “I've been in this school since grade school, which means I've seen it change over the years—policies, highs, lows. Under the current administration, there are very few persistent issues for students.”

  “Is that so?” I probed further.

  “My focus was bridging the communication gap between students and the school. I succeeded in that, so apart from minor issues, there wasn’t much else to fix,” he said, his tone both pragmatic and proud.

  “What do you mean by that?” Diya frowned. “Is that why last Halloween’s party was a total snooze fest? So many things went wrong that day.”

  She seemed to remember with clarity the disappointment of the event and Haku-senpai acknowledged her criticism with a scratch of his head.

  “That was my fault. I approved the plan too late, and everyone had to scramble at the last minute.”

  “I was looking forward to it. I even had a costume ready,” Diya groaned, covering her face in mock despair. “But the party fizzled out before it even began.”

  “How long did you have to plan it?” I asked, curious about the timeline.

  “Only four days,” Diya exclaimed in shock.

  “Back to business,” Haku-senpai interrupted, redirecting the conversation and quelling Diya's mini-outburst. He turned to me, his demeanour more serious. “Why did you ask that question?”

  “If I want to win the election, I need to propose something different. From what you said, there are few problems to solve within the school, so I want to steer clear of academic reforms,” I explained, already considering my options.

  “So you’re aiming to shake things up with extracurricular activities?” Diya guessed.

  “That would be predictable. I suspect others might have the same idea, so I need a pitch that stands out,” I said, recognising her insight.

  “So you need my help to brainstorm?” Diya asked.

  “Not exactly. There's a reason I wanted to meet the student council president,” I answered, a cunning smirk appearing on Haku-senpai's face, seemingly understanding my intentions.

  “You're a sneaky one, Marcus Luna,” Haku-senpai said, leaning against the railing and sounding slightly amused.

  “I want access to information about the school and all the changes it's undergone since its inception.”

  “You’ll need the change management documents,” he mused. “It might take some time, but I can arrange it.”

  “That’s great. Can we go now?” Diya chimed in, pulling lightly at my shirt, her agitation obvious. I glanced at her, noting her fatigued demeanour, and I knew I had already taken up too much of her day.

  “Before you leave, remember—this favour doesn't come without a price,” Haku-senpai added, a shrewd glint in his eyes.

  “I'm not surprised,” I shot back, ready for the eventual trade-off.

  “As for what I'd like in return, I'll get back to you on that. Diya can give you my number,” he said before excusing himself, leaving us standing by the railing.

  “I'm tired,” Diya sighed, stretching her arms above her head.

  “Sorry for dragging you into this,” I apologised, feeling a tinge of remorse for monopolising her time.

  “It's nothing. But I can't help but wonder if your decision to trust me with all this information is either incredibly foolish or incredibly bold,” Diya pondered, her expression a mix of amusement and curiosity.

  “That remains to be seen,” I grinned as we started our descent.

  “Well, I may be Hazel's friend, but that doesn't mean I'll betray the trust you've placed in me,” she added with quiet resolve.

  Fortunately, she was unable to see the fleeting but sincere smile she brought to my face.

  —

  —

  “You want Hazel as your vice president?” Diya asked, a little surprised.

  “Yes. Or did you want the position?” I teased.

  “Of course not,” she laughed. “I have too much on my plate already, so I don't think I can become a council member. Besides, Hazel might be very suspicious about that.”

  Her remark didn't surprise me because I knew she had a lot going on.

  “I know, but I'm serious about choosing her,” I said, fiddling with a piece of paper.

  Diya took a sip of her drink, then asked, “I'm not doubting your reasoning for choosing her. On the contrary, I'm happy that you do want her to be in that position, but you called me here first to discuss it with me. Why?”

  It turns out she was more observant than I thought.

  “Simple—I need you to call her over,” I admitted.

  “So now I'm your messenger?” she grumbled, slouching with a slight frown on her face.

  “Not at all. I just want you here when I ask her.”

  Diya sighed. “Are you serious?”

  “You don't have to say a word. Just watch,” I reassured Diya. Taking out her phone, she called Hazel and arranged for her to join us.

  “You owe me big time for all this,” Diya muttered under her breath.

  She was right—I definitely owed her.

  It wasn’t long before Hazel arrived at the green area. Considering the small number of people there, it didn't take her long to find us.

  A mix of curiosity and caution flickered across her face as she greeted Diya.

  “Diya?” she questioned as she sat down.

  Diya simply took a sip of her drink and gestured toward me.

  “I'm the one who wants to see you,” I interjected, cutting through the confusion.

  “Why the backhanded approach, though? I gave you my number so you could have called me yourself.” Hazel's brows furrowed slightly as she queried.

  “That's not important. What matters is your answer,” I said directly.

  “Proposal? Diya, what's going on?” Hazel glanced at Diya, but she simply sipped her drink, unfazed.

  “Hazel, I want you to be my vice president,” I stated, holding her gaze.

  Her reaction was palpable; her eyes widened, and she seemed momentarily stunned. “I… I… But why?” she stammered.

  “You're the best fit. Your intelligence and critical thinking are unmatched, and your reputation will help build trust with students from other classes,” I explained.

  Whirling in her mind, Hazel fell silent. Diya's watchful gaze didn't escape my notice; she seemed as eager as I was for Hazel's response.

  “Fine. I'll do it,” Hazel finally said, her voice quiet as she avoided my gaze.

  “That's great. Thank you, Hazel,” I said with a warm smile.

  Diya caught our attention with her spontaneous applause, clearly excited. “Now you just need two more members.”

  Hazel glanced at me, as if about to ask something.

  “Are you familiar with how the election team is structured?” I asked.

  “Not really. Someone was supposed to explain it but left it as a surprise,” she replied, shooting Diya a look that she skilfully dodged.

  “Let me explain,” I said, giving Hazel the rundown on the composition of the team. “The winners of the in-class voting across every Year 11 class need to assemble a team of four: President, Vice President, Secretary, and Treasurer. The vice president must be from the same class as the president, while the secretary and treasurer come from other Year 11 classes.”

  As I finished speaking, Hazel's face showed signs of understanding before nodding. “Got it. So, we need to start scouting other classes for potential team members.”

  “Exactly,” I confirmed.

  “Lunch is almost over. We should head to the other classes now to start scouting,” Hazel suggested, rising from her seat.

  “You're coming too,” she added to Diya, who grudgingly got to her feet, her sulky expression not entirely masking her underlying curiosity.

  We made our way back into the academic building, heading first to Class 3. However, as we approached, a large, intimidating figure blocked our path, exuding clear hostility.

  

  “Already scouting, I see,” the boy said sarcastically.

  “Cohen, can you let us through?” Diya asked politely, only to be met with a dismissive laugh.

  “No can do, sweetie,” he shot back.

  I stepped forward, meeting Cohen’s smirking gaze. “And why is that?”

  “You’re here to recruit someone for your election team, right, Marcus?” he said, clearly aware of my recent win in the in-class voting, which made sense considering a day had passed since that.

  “We are. Is that a problem?” I replied evenly.

  “Actually, yes. Our class has already decided—we’re not giving you any members,” he said, his tone final.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Hazel interjected, a sharp edge in her voice.

  “You heard me. Class 3 is off-limits,” Cohen declared.

  “Cohen, what you're doing makes no sense. If you prevent us from getting members from your class, then we'll be forced to do the same to you. It's a lose-lose situation for everyone.” Diya reasoned.

  “I know you wouldn't, and even if you did, we can risk that,” he replied confidently.

  “That's an absolutely crazy plan,” Hazel said, expressing her astonishment at Cohen's irrational stance.

  “It’s just my way of making things interesting,” Cohen said. “Marcus, in case you didn’t know, you’re up against me in this election. And I'm going to do anything in my power to crush you.”

  “Oh? You actually think you stand a chance?” I almost laughed.

  “I'm not joking around here. Now, leave,” he ordered, his tone non-negotiable.

  Hazel moved to face Cohen, but I reached out and caught her hand, silently urging her to stand down. She hesitated before reluctantly backing off, acknowledging that further confrontation would only escalate the situation and we decided to retreat—for now.

  —

  —

  As lunchtime ended, the cafeteria gradually emptied, leaving only a handful of students scattered throughout the space. Tucked away in a quiet area, Hazel, Diya, and I gathered around a table, speaking in hushed tones.

  “So, who was that?” I asked.

  “That rascal was Cohen,” Diya answered, irritation clear in her voice. “He’s loud, obnoxious and loves stirring up trouble with everyone. He's going to be annoying, honestly.”

  “I’ve only interacted with him a few times, but Diya’s right—he’s aggressive,” Hazel added.

  “That’s a problem. It means that his plan to stop us from getting members from his class is actually possible because of the use of fear,” I concluded.

  “What I don’t get is why Ralph would allow this,” Hazel muttered, her voice barely audible over the din of the cafeteria.

  “Ralph?” I asked.

  “Class 3’s representative,” Diya chimed in. “The thing is, not everyone would agree with his strategy, though.”

  She had a point. Class 3 members may take offence at Cohen's harsh methods, leading to internal discord. If we could identify and ally ourselves with those individuals, it could significantly bolster our recruitment efforts.

  “That’s true,” I said, considering our next move. “What we need to do right now is find out if Cohen is only targeting us or if Class 2 is also in his crosshairs.”

  “Good idea. I’ll talk to Class 2 and get back to you on their answer.” Hazel said, rising from her seat.

  “I’ll come with you. You look like you could use some company,” Diya added, following her.

  As they left, I sat alone, gathering my thoughts. There was plenty to ponder, but first, I needed to nourish myself with a meal. Just as I was about to stand, a hand slammed onto the table, catching my attention.

  Looking up, I saw a familiar face.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, pressing her palms together in apology.

  “Hashimoto, right?” I asked, confirming her name.

  “Yes, but call me Natsumi. I prefer that, and I have a feeling we’ll become close real quick,” she said with a nod. “I challenged you to a battle and couldn’t even make it past the first stage. This is a terrible display of my character.”

  Her sudden apology caught me off guard, and I wasn't sure how to react. Before I could respond, I noticed curious gazes from the few people around us starting to drift in our direction, drawn by the sudden commotion.

  “It's alright; there's no need for all that,” I comforted her. “You can try again next time.”

  Natsumi’s eyes lit up, a bright smile gracing her features.

  “I look forward to it,” she said and pivoted to leave.

  “Remember the name, Hashimoto Natsumi,” she called over her shoulder before disappearing.

  Just like before, Hashimoto Natsumi was a strange one.

  —

  —

  As lectures ended, I packed my things and left the academic building, eager to get back to the comforts of my dorm room. I was so focused on my phone that I barely noticed a student approaching until his voice broke through my thoughts.

  “Hello, Marcus! I’m glad I ran into you,” he said eagerly.

  Looking up, I saw a shorter figure struggling under the weight of several books. I immediately extended my hand.

  “Need some help with those?” I made a gesture towards the books he was carrying.

  “Thank you; I actually do,” he said gratefully. I took a few books from his load, easing his burden.

  “Where to?” I asked as we fell into step together.

  “The library, please.”

  “No problem,” I replied with a shrug.

  “Thanks once again for this.”

  “It's no problem,” I reassured him.

  “Oh, by the way, I’m Ryo from Class 2,” he introduced himself. “I actually came to ask you something.”

  His mention of Class 2 piqued my interest.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  For an instant, Ryo paused, his expression changing slightly as though he were grappling with his thoughts. Finally, he gathered his courage and spoke up.

  “I want to join your election team as your secretary.”