There had been a report about students loitering after school hours, specifically those who didn't participate in any club activities. It was starting to reflect in some of their grades and slowly chipped away at the school's reputation for academic excellence and discipline.
"What are your thoughts on the matter?" Hitomi asked, her legs neatly crossed as she sat upright in the leather chair positioned at the center of the student council room. Her voice was steady, commanding, yet polite.
A boy sitting opposite her straightened his back and glanced briefly at the neatly organized papers in front of him. "Well, we could always put in place disciplinary measures for anyone who gets below a score of four hundred, or an average of eighty. This would not only reduce the number of students who waste time but also promote more studying to meet the required exam scores, thus solving the issue indirectly."
"That would be a great solution, but you haven't taken into account the student-athletes," said the head of the disciplinary committee. He pushed his glasses up his nose and leaned slightly forward. "Remember, they're representing our school and spending most of their time training and practicing. Wouldn't it be unfair for them—who have less time for studies—to be placed under the same academic regulations as those who loiter or don't partake in club activities?"
"That's true," the boy replied, his brow furrowing as he thought it through. "However, it would also be unfair if both athletes and non-athletes had different grade requirements because, in the end, they attend the same classes and learn the same things. Getting good grades is all up to time management."
Hitomi nodded slowly, drumming her fingers on the table with soft, rhythmic taps. "I agree with both of your views. So, I've decided that we'll work with this method—but at a lower average of seventy-five, which should be more manageable for everyone. Does that work for you guys?"
"Yes, President," both members replied in unison, their posture visibly relaxing as they noted her compromise.
"Okay, good. On to the next issue—"
Before she could finish her sentence, the door to the student council room creaked open. The sound of quick, apologetic footsteps followed.
"Good afternoon. I'm so sorry for being late. I was held back in class taking notes. Did I miss anything?" asked Takahashi Sachiko, slightly out of breath as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her with care.
"We didn't do much. We practically just started," said Hitomi, waving a hand to dismiss her concern.
"Oh, I see. Then that's really good to hear." Sachiko stepped closer and adjusted her blazer. "By the way, were you successful with the task I gave you a while back when you first joined the council?" Hitomi asked, locking eyes with her.
What does she mean by a task? Sachiko thought. Wait, does she mean getting Tetsuo to join the student council?
Judging by Sachiko's stiff expression and the hesitation in her eyes, Hitomi tilted her head. "Judging by your expression, I'd say you haven't asked him yet, or at the very least, were unsuccessful."
"Can you two please step out for a bit? I'd like to have a talk with our vice president," she said, her voice calm but firm.
"Yes, President," the two members said obediently, gathering their things and leaving the room. The soft click of the door shutting behind them was the only sound in the brief silence that followed.
"Those two boys have been contributing greatly to the school's cause," said Hitomi, her tone warming slightly. "They devote time and effort to solving concerns of students and their parents. I'm glad that our previous president scouted them. They're clearly making the difference this school needs."
"Yes, you're right. They sure do take their work seriously," Sachiko said, nodding with a faint smile, though tension remained in her posture.
"Now then, why do you think Tetsuo doesn't want to join the student council?"
"Well... I honestly think there's no real reason. He's just not interested in this kind of thing," Sachiko said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've tried to convince him on multiple occasions. But ninety percent of the time, I didn't even get a response. It's hard to believe, but we've never had a proper conversation since the semester began. He also ignores me."
She exhaled and added, "If I may also add, he's now a part of the basketball team, which will make it impossible to sway him now."
Hitomi closed her eyes briefly, weighing the situation. "I see. I've been saving an important position for Tetsuo Kawaguchi in the council. But we need that spot filled soon or a lot of issues may arise. So here's what—we need him to serve this school to his full potential. This will be the last time I ask you to convince him to join. Try any means necessary to do so."
Sachiko stood a little straighter. "Should I go now or another time?"
"Yes, go ahead. He should be at training right now, which will make it a whole lot easier to deal with and achieve our desired results."
"Alright. I'll be right back," said Sachiko, turning on her heel and exiting the room.
As she walked through the corridor, the sounds of bouncing basketballs and sneakers squeaking on polished wood echoed from the gym ahead. Her pace quickened.
"Tetsuo, catch!" Yukio's voice rang out as the ball was passed overhead.
Tetsuo's fingers wrapped tightly around the ball as he caught it. The smooth leather brushed his palms as he transitioned into a triple-threat stance, knees slightly bent, body balanced. Hayato stood in front of him, crouched low and ready.
Being denied the lane, Tetsuo faked a three-point shot. Hayato reacted instantly, springing upward.
Crap, he got by me, Hayato thought, his sneakers skidding slightly as Tetsuo dashed past him.
Tetsuo passed the ball off to Takahiro, who jumped up for a clean layup. But a tall figure shot into the air—Liam. His extended arm slammed the ball downward, the sound of the block cracking through the gym like thunder.
Damn, this guy is like a wall. I can't score on him, Takahiro thought, landing hard on the floor and stumbling a step back.
Yukio retrieved the ball from mid-bounce and passed it quickly back to Tetsuo.
But within seconds, Noboru and Hayato closed in, double-teaming him near the sideline.
Tetsuo didn't hesitate. His feet planted and twisted as he spun away from the defenders. His body stayed low, tightly controlled. The soles of his shoes screeched as he reversed direction, breaking out of the trap and creating open space in front of him.
He drove hard to the rim. The air rushed past his ears as his legs propelled him upward for the layup. But Liam was already reacting, his massive frame rising to contest the shot.
Sensing the looming block, Tetsuo shifted his wrist at the last second and dished the ball off to Yukio, who positioned himself neatly at the post. With a smooth, calculated flick, Yukio took the shot.
The ball cut through the air and dropped through the net cleanly.
"Nice work, everyone! That was some sharp dribbling and proper usage of your eyesight, Tetsuo. Very impressive," Nanaho called out from the sideline, clipboard in hand.
Sachiko had just arrived at the court, her eyes scanning the court, locking instantly onto Tetsuo.
So I am right. They're in the middle of training now, she thought, standing quietly behind the railing above the court.
"Nice passing, Tetsuo!" shouted Harumi from the staircase, her voice bright and high-pitched.
"Nice shot, Yukio-senpai!" a first-year girl added.
"They're so cool! I get goosebumps watching them play."
Sachiko narrowed her eyes slightly. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she mumbled under her breath, "What's with these girls? And how can she boldly call Tetsuo by his first name?"
The girls giggled and whispered among themselves.
I don't have time for this, Sachiko thought, pressing her palms against the door. I came here to get him to join, not to compete for attention...
"Alright, let's resume playing once more," Nanaho announced, clapping her hands twice to get everyone moving again.
Sachiko's gaze didn't leave Tetsuo for a moment.
Hitomi wants results. So this is it. The final try...