Palette Café—one of AN High School's most famous coffee shops.
Yukio gently stirred the non-dairy creamer he'd just poured into his short coffee cup, the spoon tracing circles and creating a small whirlpool that shifted from pitch black to a lighter coffee brown under his hand. He couldn't help but sigh—today had been busy.
Morning with Tsukishiro. Noon with Ichinose. And now in the afternoon, summoned by Horikita to meet Matsushita.
Thinking of this, he lifted his gaze toward the girl sitting across from him—Matsushita, smiling serenely with the poise of a refined lady, quietly watching him, as if determined not to interrupt his concentration on the coffee.
Unlike the last exam period—when her nerves had been rattled, tripping up in front of him or struggling with class rejection—today Matsushita seemed whole and composed. Her shoulders open, her back straight, a flower-bright smile, eyes like clear moons. Just by sitting there, she gave off the aura of someone attending a high-class banquet.
It seemed Matsushita no longer cared if people saw her meeting with him. The "open-scheme" provocations of the training camp exam had only mattered in that moment. Afterwards, even if some in Class D still bore a grudge, it couldn't stir up much anymore. Or maybe she had simply decided: so what if they do? Better to meet him, fight for a way to clear this "vote-to-expel" exam without losses, and try to win her class back that way.
As for Horikita, who knew what she was scrambling over now—probably tearing her hair out over who to sacrifice in the voting.
With that, Yukio set down his spoon and looked directly at her.
"So, you're here to borrow points too?"
Ichinose's Class had made such a scene earlier, it was safe to assume the whole grade knew. No reason to mince words.
Of course, he knew Matsushita wasn't likely to come for a loan. Class D had nowhere near Ichinose's reserves. Even if they did borrow, paying it back would be a distant dream. This was just him seizing the initiative.
Matsushita gave the expected denial, tilting her chin at a practiced angle that gave him a favorable impression. "Yukio-kun jests. I only wished to discuss this voting exam with you. I heard you already have a way to clear it?"
That was what she wanted most to know—what method could possibly pass an exam designed to guarantee an expulsion?
"That's right." Yukio didn't deny it. The only question was how much of his plan to reveal, and how best to make Matsushita rally her class into obedience.
There really was a way? Matsushita's eyes widened in shock—then softened into acceptance. Of course. Of course this scoundrel would have something up his sleeve.
But she didn't miss the obvious problem. Different classes, still competitors—why would Yukio just hand her the key? If he had opened the door this far, it meant it was her turn to lay down an offering, something to move him.
And therein lay the bind. Neither she nor Class D had much of value.
Private points? Their scraps couldn't compare. After the training camp, Class D had only 220 class points. Even at full strength—forty members—that was 880,000 private points a month in total.
Meanwhile, Yukio's Class A students averaged nearly 240,000 each monthly—one member's income alone equaled a third of her entire class's. The gap was enormous.
Class points? Non-transferable.
So she could only suggest. "Yukio-kun, how about this—next time our classes face each other in a special exam, we'll concede without contest?"
Which meant—Class D would auto-forfeit?
Yukio gave her a strange look. No one knew what the next exam would be. But even if they did face off, would he really need them to roll over? A straight fight and his class would probably win anyway.
Some condition. He shook his head. "That hardly counts, Matsushita. You don't actually think we'd ever need Class D to hand us a win, do you?"
That confidence lit a fire in her, though, and her eyes gleamed. "Yukio-kun still thinks we'd be helpless against you? Don't forget, our class has Koenji."
"After the training camp, surely his strength has reached your ears through Ryuen-kun. One person might not shift everything, but in certain events, he could cause serious trouble."
"Like in exams split into smaller events—he'd change the balance."
That was her last card. She couldn't control Koenji, but she could still wave the flag. Worst case, she'd have to persuade him later to hold back in some exam. After all, Koenji had slacked plenty of times before. Easier than finding a way to clear this vote exam without expulsions.
Yukio leaned back casually, lifting his cup for a slow sip, savoring the aroma. He hadn't taken her words seriously at all. Setting it down with a crisp ding, he said flatly.
"Koenji may seem unbeatable to you, but not to me. If I'd gone for the individual event instead of commanding the team in the other three projects, he'd never have taken first."
"..." Matsushita was left speechless. This was trouble. Her two flimsy cards held no appeal for him.
So what did she—or Class D—have left that could possibly catch his interest?
Watching her rack her brain, Yukio found it amusing. Because in truth, he didn't need anything from her to proceed. He could just tell her his plan, bend the class to his will.
But she had assumed she had to pay something for his help. And now she was twisting herself in knots over what to offer.
The sight made Yukio want to laugh.
...
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