Chapter 54 - .

We spent a little under an hour eating, and once my stomach was full, I finally decided to get to the subject at hand. I tossed back my coffee and said to Zaimokuza, "Okay, so I explained to you about the election, right?" 

"Aye. 'Twas about how you would prevent those two from winning." Zaimokuza nodded dramatically. But after a little thinking, he groaned. "Fmm, but, well…" 

"What?" 

"Why must they not be elected?" He asked me that very simple question with a tilt of his head. 

Well, that's the normal response, I guess. In fact, I doubted many would be against either being president. Or more like the majority just didn't care who it was. I had my personal reason, but I hesitated to be honest about it. I didn't feel like I could explain it right anyway. 

So instead, I asked Zaimokuza, "If Yukinoshita or Yuigahama got elected, what do you think will happen to the school?" 

"Herm, I fear 'twould become a world unkind to one such as I…," Zaimokuza answered, sweat rising on his forehead. 

"Yeah, that's all you need to know." 

Though actually, no matter which of them became student council president, I doubted the school would change much. A high school student council doesn't have the power to change anything fundamental about a school. What I'd told him was just some BS logic I'd come up with. I didn't think that would actually convince him, but it was my only option if I wanted to get through this. 

"So as for what I'm going to do specifically…" I was about to move the conversation along when I got a phone call from Komachi. I casually raised a hand at Zaimokuza, got his permission with a look and a "Sorry," then answered my phone. 

"Hello?" 

"Oh, there he is!" Her voice came not from my phone but from behind me. I turned around to see Komachi there, in her school uniform. 

"…Huh? Why're you here?" 

"I heard you were having a meeting…so I'm here!" 

Right when I was about to complain, like, Come on, don't give me that; I didn't invite you…, someone unexpected came up from behind her. 

"We're not bothering you, are we?" He was wearing that familiar gym uniform with his tennis bag slung over his shoulder, standing there idly. Smiling bashfully like he was a little embarrassed, he was more angelic than that picture of an angel decorating the wall. 

"T-T-T…" 

T…T-T-T-T-Totsukaaa! Oh dear, I'm so shocked, I can't talk right. 

I was so startled meeting him here, of all places, I nearly wound up thinking we were destined to be together. But based on what I could see here, this was something Komachi had schemed up, and so this was probably not love but Nisekoi: False Love. That was a relief. I could be at ease, build my Gundam, and fight! 

As I stuttered to a halt, not quite able to respond, Totsuka looked at me with concern. So as to soothe his worry as soon as possible, I quickly found a reply. "No, not at all! Anyway, will you sit down?" I briskly moved my bag off the seat beside me and pulled out the chair. The plan here was that logically, Totsuka would sit there! Am I a genius or what? 

"Oh, or do you want to eat something?" I said to the picture of an angel hanging on the wall, in a demonstration of my gentlemanliness. Oh, whoops! My mistake! Got my angels confused. Why does Saize have an angel picture on the wall anyway? 

"Oh, so then…," Totsuka said with no particular suspicion as he sat down next to me. 

With a cry of "Fngh!" Zaimokuza offered him the menu. He must have been too nervous to form words. Me and Zaimokuza were making a surprisingly good coordinated play here. 

"Maybe I'll have the peperoncino… Oh, but garlic, huh…? Hmm…" Totsuka eyed the menu, weighing his options. I didn't reach straight out to the call button this time. 

Go ahead, take your time choosing. Order whatever you like, be it peperoncino or Pepelotion. 

As Totsuka was considering his order, I stood beside Komachi and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Komachi, what the hell is going on here?" 

"If you're gonna do this thing for Komachi, then Komachi's gotta put in some effort, too, right?" 

Ohhh, you've put in a real effort for me. I reached out to pat Komachi's head, but she smoothly dodged my hand and stepped back. Then she puffed out her chest a bit smugly. "And so I recruited a whole bunch of people to help!" And then, with a "Ta-daa!" she spread her arms and pointed. 

She was gesturing toward Kawa…Kawaguchiko? No, was it 

Yamanakako? Well, Kawa-something is fine. Wait, Komachi knew her number, too? I don't even know her name. 

Kawa-something stuffed her hands in her pockets, glancing at me with a grumpy pout on her lips. "Why me…?" she muttered quietly. 

When her eyes met mine, she went silent with an "Urk!" 

Awww, I'm sorry you had to come here when you so clearly didn't want to. 

Well, Kawa-something was from my school, so I could understand her being here. As a constituent in the election, you couldn't say she had absolutely nothing to do with it. 

But the other one really had nothing to do with this. "So why's that here, too?" I asked Komachi. 

And then said irrelevant article quite cheerfully and briskly replied, 

"I'm not a thing! I'm Taishi Kawasaki!" 

Uh, like I said, why are you here…? Oh, is it to let me know that Kawa-something's name is Kawasaki? Thanks. 

But it seemed that was not the case. Komachi scratched her head with a laugh. "Well…even Komachi doesn't know Saki's number." 

"Oh, that's why." That made sense. "Well, you got ahold of her, so you don't need that anymore, right?" 

"I'm not a thing! I'm Taishi Kawasaki!" Taishi insisted once more, not discouraged. 

If your big sister did that much insisting, I wouldn't keep forgetting her name, I thought. 

Meanwhile, Kawasaki was glaring at me. "Did you just say you didn't need him here?" 

"No, um, I do need him, yes…" Mostly as a mental stabilizer for 

Kawasaki. Please stop glaring daggers at me like it's kill or be killed or Kill la Kill… 

"Anyway, let's sit down." Komachi intervened and moved us over to sit at the table seats nearby. She prompted Kawasaki and Taishi to take the seats at the back, while she sat next to me. She's the kind of competent girl who will casually choose the lowest-rank seat for herself. 

We checked what everyone wanted and ordered as a group, and then once all the drinks were set out as well, Komachi cleared her throat. "Ahem. Without further ado, it's time for the big plan to keep Yukino and Yui in the club!!" she announced, and Totsuka and Taishi followed with a patter of applause, while Zaimokuza nodded. 

Komachi must have explained the situation to Totsuka and Kawasaki beforehand, as they didn't particularly question anything. She really is such a competent little sister. 

But Kawasaki leaned her cheek on her hand as she looked the other way to ask a different sort of question. "Was there a point in inviting me?" 

"This is about Soubu High, and we really wanted to get your help," Komachi said modestly with a cute smile and a "Tee-hee." Stop with the obsequious hand-wringing, come on. 

But it seemed that kind of manipulation didn't work on Kawasaki, and her attitude was unchanged. "Huh. I don't think I'd be useful, though." 

"Oh, just getting your opinions will be helpful," I said. 

Kawasaki looked over at me for an instant, but her eyes immediately snapped away again. "…You don't need my opinions," she said. 

But given the situation, her opinions would be useful. 

Being in the lower reaches of a subtributary at school, the perspective of the lower class is ingrained in me. I also couldn't help but hold some bias toward the candidates, Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. The views of someone who stood a certain distance from them would be more neutral. It was necessary to include that standard of judgment. 

I was right about to explain this when the food came. I waited for the server to leave, but that created a break in the conversation, and I felt like I'd lost my moment. Well, I could skip to the conclusion. "I need you." 

Kawasaki blinked. "O-oh… Then, well, okay…," she said, pulling her cup of iced tea toward her, turning her face away as she sucked on the straw. There was the slurping sound of an empty cup. Maybe it was because she was looking away. I wonder if she was tired. 

I kind of felt bad for making her go along with all this trouble. "Sorry," I said. 

Kawasaki removed her hand from the cup and leaned her cheek on it again. She looked at me for a moment as if thinking hard, then said, "It's fine. You doing stuff with that club…fits." 

"What? Why?" There was nothing in particular about it that fit me. In fact, I hated words like service, work, and labor. I hated even the idea of them. 

"N-never mind. I was just thinking that because you haven't been yourself lately." 

A loner always has a great eye for observation. What keen insight. People-watching is the penchant of the loner. 

Not myself, huh? 

But if she was going to talk about what wasn't like me, then what I was doing now wasn't like me. I wasn't giving up. I was trying to protect the club. This was very clearly not like me. 

But it seemed the others evaluated the situation differently. Komachi, sitting beside me, chuckled. "You've always got to put up some useless struggle, Bro." Oh, that felt right. 

Out of power and out of moves to make, but still repeatedly struggling in vain anyway, not bothered by the damage I take— wanting to get a hit or two back at the other guy if I'm gonna lose anyway, to make things suck for him… That's like me. 

Then let's play this game in a way that's like me. 

First, let's observe some of the examples of success we have at hand. 

I turned to Komachi. I seemed to recall she was on the student council in middle school. In other words, she'd run as a candidate and won before. She would have also managed a campaign before, too. So I decided to ask about that. "Komachi, how'd you win that election?" 

She considered my question a moment before prefacing with "Hmm, I won by vote of confidence, so I don't think that'll be very useful…" 

"That's fine—just tell me about your election strategy or whatnot." 

"Okay… Well, before you declare candidacy, I guess I'd go and say, Komachi's gonna do it! And if you do that, most of the time, nobody'll fight you for it." 

"I see…" It may not necessarily be that victory goes to whoever makes the first move, but if you do something to give others some pause, even those who are interested in running might hesitate. As expected of my little sister: shrewd. 

I asked with a look if there was anything else, and Komachi folded her arms and began making thinking noises. "Also…boys might be at an advantage with stuff like this. Well, boys who are popular or well liked, though." 

"Oh yeah, 'cause with middle schoolers, boys might have a hard time voting for a girl." 

"Hmm, that's part of it, but…" Komachi was evasive, putting on a vague smile. 

"What is it?" I asked, curious as to the rest of what she wanted to say. 

Komachi stuck up her pointer finger. "If a girl's running, about half the girls'll be against her." 

O-ohhh… I have been witness to my sister's transformation into a full-fledged member of women's society. Big Bro is happy that Komachi's grown but also a little sad… 

Opposite us, Taishi was also a little disturbed. His head drooped, and he muttered, "Hikigaya's heart is black as coal…" 

"Don't you go calling my sister blackhearted." 

And your sister's got more black going on—like her panties. 

But anyway, some of what Komachi had said could be of reference. "Using girl-on-girl hostility, huh…?" 

Suddenly, Zaimokuza reacted. "The Meat to the Tigers Plot!" 

Hearing that, Totsuka tilted his head. "But that would mean making Yukinoshita and Yuigahama fight, wouldn't it?" 

"True… And if everyone gets too into it, it'll start proxy wars, or it could drag on afterward, too…," Komachi noted solemnly. 

That's just a common opinion, right? You're not talking based on personal experience? I'm worried… 

But that was indeed a concern. Miura seemed like she might get into a proxy war… Then Yukinoshita would pay her back double and make her cry. Well, Miura aside, it would probably be best to avoid doing anything that would create a breeding ground for future problems. Or more to the point, causing unnecessary damage to Yuigahama and Yukinoshita was out of the question. 

As everyone was racking their brains and wondering if there was anything else, Zaimokuza raised his hand, as did Taishi. 

"So then, the Empty Fort Strategy!" 

"Maybe it'd be a good idea to have some other candidates." 

Wow, Taishi. You totally ignored Zaimokuza and offered your own opinion, too, even though it had nothing to do with what he'd said. He might actually be the real deal. 

But Yukinoshita and Yuigahama had already explored that option, and I'd rejected it. "I've already considered that. Besides, not just anyone could beat those two." 

Frankly speaking, the only one who could get more votes than either of them would be Hayama. And those votes were on Yukinoshita's side now, while the girls from Hayama's clique would be with Yuigahama. So no other candidate could stand up to them. 

So Taishi reconsidered. "Oh, so if one person couldn't beat them, maybe having lots could be a good idea." 

"Ohhh! Like a pile of dust!" Komachi clapped her knee. 

I think she was referring to the saying that even dust makes a mountain if you pile up enough. 

Flooding the ballot with candidates… True, doing that could reduce how many votes they got. Would it work? No, in that case, the candidates with the most votes would still win, in the end—in other words, one of the girls. 

If opposing them wasn't an option and neither was flooding the ballot, then I had to consider other angles. "A way to beat Yukinoshita and Yuigahama…," I muttered, and Kawasaki, who'd been listening in silence until then, opened her mouth. 

"Not like it matters, but if neither Yukinoshita nor Yuigahama are gonna do it, then who'll be president, in the end? 

"…Oh." 

Whoops. I completely forgot about Isshiki. 

"Come on…" Kawasaki breathed an exasperated sigh. 

Oh, I'm exasperated with myself here. 

Preventing Yukinoshita and Yuigahama from becoming student council president would mean making Isshiki be president. This wasn't good—as long as the only candidates were those three, one of them had to be president. I really didn't have any options here. 

Scratching my head, I reconsidered the situation, this time, with Isshiki included. 

This was when a particularly nice-sounding voice came to my ears. "Hermmm, now that it's come to this, with our backs to the river…" That remark made me lift my head, and my eyes met Zaimokuza's. 

"Zaimokuza…" 

"Herm." He gave a satisfied nod. 

Good grief, Zaimokuza… I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks for everything. I'm grateful for the sentiment. But sorry. This is hard to say, but you've really been getting in the way." "Hngeh!" Zaimokuza's head flung back. 

Look, I mean, pushing that Chinese history angle is obnoxious… 

However, no matter how many times he's kicked down, Zaimokuza is a man who will crawl his way up again. Just like Gen after he was told, "You're wheat! Become wheat!" he straightened his back once more. 

"Kerfphon, 'twas you who proclaimed to me I should make suggestions! And thence I've been demonstrating my tactics, strategy, and art of war." Adjusting his glasses with a click, Zaimokuza looked at me. 

"Well, you weren't the one to think up any of those ideas, though." "Silence, you! Your chances of beating those two is equivalent to zero in the first place! You'll never win at the strategy level, and therefore, you must battle them on a tactics level." 

That almost sounded legit… 

Totsuka, who'd been listening, tilted his head. "Um…tactics and strategy are different?" 

"Huh? Uh…a-aye, that it is. Look up the difference between the twain in your dictionaries!" Zaimokuza avoided the question by pushing through vigorously, then turned back to me. "Attempting to challenge them is wrongheaded in the first place." 

"Well, yeah, that's true, but…" Frustrating as it was, I couldn't argue with him. It was true that I couldn't beat them in a fight. It wasn't that fighting was useless—it was more like I couldn't fight at all. The overwhelming advantage they had in this fight wasn't my only obstacle—I wasn't even standing on the stage of the competition. 

This is no good. The situation is worse than I thought. 

As I was scratching roughly at my head, Komachi said to me, "Bro." 

"Hmm?" 

"Snowflake is right." 

"Yeah, Big Bro understands that, too, Komachi-chan…" I turned her aside for the moment in the way you might soothe a small child, like, Let me think about it a bit, 'kay? 

I think the words of wisdom about winning without fighting were written by Sun Tzu, right? If I could become Sun Tzu, I might be able to figure something out. I am Sun Tzu, I am Sun Tzu, I am Sun Tzu, I am Sun Tzu… I'm some zoo? In other words, rather than fighting, the wisdom of victory can be found at the Chiba Zoo, huh…? Chiba is the greatest after all… 

My train of thought had switched onto a very weird track when Komachi tugged on my sleeve. "Komachi doesn't particularly want you to win." 

"Huh? Uh, but I have to win this election." If I didn't, one of them would end up being student council president. 

"But, like, you haven't even announced candidacy, so forget winning." Kawasaki sighed contemptuously. 

Dead sound argument… Oh, she really was right, though. 

"Ah-ha-ha, well, Hachiman isn't bound by rules, right?" Totsuka attempted to mediate with a laugh, seeming a little confused. 

He's such an angel. If Totsuka was gonna say that about me, then maybe it'd be nice not to be bound by the rule that is civil code volume 4, article 2. 

As I was secretly basking in the comfort of Totsuka's comment, Komachi tugged on me, forcing me to turn toward her. "Komachi just wants Yukino and Yui to stay in the Service Club. Honestly, I don't really care about this student council election." 

"O-oh…but then there's still Isshiki…" Being that I'd accepted this request, I couldn't toss it aside without a second thought. Most of all, Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, Miss Hiratsuka, and Meguri would not say yes to that. 

Seeing my reluctance, Komachi stared at me. "Bro, is this Isshiki person the most important here?" 

"Well, no, not at all." 

"So then why is this so hard?" 

"Uh, look, a request is a request," I said. 

Komachi took my face in her hands and pulled. "Which is more important, your work or Komachi?" 

"Obviously, you. I have no intention of getting a job," I said boldly and with all the love in the world as I swept aside Komachi's hands. 

"Process of elimination, huh…?" Totsuka smiled, either out of exasperation or worry. 

Oh, but if it's you, Totsuka, I'd unconditionally answer in your favor. 

Komachi was pouting, and there was a little glare in her eyes, but her lips parted in a big smile. "I really can't be honestly happy about that, but…well, okay, okay. Then what'll you do, Bro?" 

"I get what you're saying. But I'm not going to force Isshiki to be student council president." 

That's exactly what you'd call a sacrifice. That was why I couldn't allow it. Even if there was a reason for abandoning her request, it would merely be a reason I'd thought up, one with nothing to do with Iroha Isshiki. Fundamentally, nobody has the right to sacrifice another to satisfy their own selfish reasons. 

"…Yeah, okay. Well, this is how you do things, Bro." Komachi sadly lowered her eyes a touch, but her expression quickly turned to an exasperated smile. 

"Yeah, Hachiman is Hachiman after all." Totsuka followed that up with a grin. 

"Hmm…" Kawasaki seemed a little startled but smiled as if she found this very interesting, somehow. But when her eyes met with mine, she immediately averted them to gnaw at her straw. Then she glanced back at me to say, "N-not that it matters, but…what are you gonna do?" 

"Let me think a bit." I closed my eyes. 

If the number one priority was retaining Yukinoshita and Yuigahama, as per Komachi's request, then Iroha Isshiki could be the only option for student council president. Since it was incredibly unlikely we could back any other candidates, I would ignore that, in this case. 

Additionally, we couldn't hurt anyone. 

So then what was the remaining issue? 

Just one thing: what she herself wanted. 

So then I had to come up with a way to turn that around. 

In other words, I had to eliminate every reason Isshiki would have to not want to be the president. 

Upon reaching this point, I opened my eyes. 

"In essence, this means our initial approach was wrong…" Mine, Yukinoshita's, and Yuigahama's. "Well, in that case, I guess I have to negotiate with Isshiki." 

"I hope she's someone you can even talk to… She's a girl, isn't she? Can you communicate?" Zaimokuza muttered. 

His rationale was rather strange, but unfortunately, I basically agreed with him. And even Taishi beside him nodded for some reason. Seemingly out of curiosity, he asked, "What's Isshiki like?" 

"Hmm…" 

Iroha Isshiki. She made herself look gentle and sweet, but that was deliberate. There was a brutal divide between someone like Hayama and people like me and Tobe, who weren't even on her radar. 

It was extremely difficult to put into words. But if I had to say, how would I put it? 

"To make a comparison, she's like Komachi, except not at all cute or charming." 

"Ohhh, that's bad," Taishi something or other said. 

"Bro, what does that mean…?" Komachi's bright smile was scary. 

"It's like, you know, it means you're cute," I said carelessly and petted her head. "Well, she's someone I can communicate with, so it'll probably be okay." I was pretty much certain about that. If Iroha Isshiki was deliberately putting on that character, you might say that made her suited to negotiation. If she was carefully calculating risk and return, then depending on what I told her, I could influence her. 

Now then, we'd have to arrange the bargaining chips for my efforts. No—it might be more accurate to say fabricate them. 

Anyway, I'd solidified my concept. Now I simply needed to work out the specifics of my method. For that, I needed a little more information. 

"Kawasaki, list some people you think might be good for student council president." 

"Huh?" She must not have been expecting me to address her, as she pointed to herself, blinking. Then she hesitated. "Uhhh…th-this is kinda sudden." 

"Just take it one by one." I actually did want some time to gather my thoughts. 

"All right, then…," she said, then tilted her head as she gradually brought up names. "I think Yukinoshita or Yuigahama would be fine. And…Hayama was his name? That sparkly, annoying dude." 

Well, that was fair enough. Yukinoshita and Yuigahama would be starting to gather nominators in earnest, though, so that would exclude them from the idea I had in mind now. But that was what she thought of Hayama, huh…? 

Kawasaki considered some more. "Ebina…could probably do the job, but she's not really cut out for it." 

I agreed with that. She was the type who'd shine in a position where she had freedom. But if Kawasaki was bringing up Ebina's name so quickly, they must have gotten pretty friendly lately… 

Then Kawasaki went "Oh" and added, "Definitely not Miura." 

Bad blood there. But if she was bothering to bring up her name, she must have had Miura on her mind. 

The names Kawasaki had come up with so far were prominent figures in our grade, and well-known, too. I'd call that an acceptable lineup. 

But the next name she voiced was a surprising one. "And maybe Sagami…" 

"What? Sagami?" I asked suddenly, frowning. 

Kawasaki went sullen. "What's with that look? You're the one who asked." 

"Oh, sorry. It's not like I've got a problem with you… But why?" 

"Since she was chair for both the cultural festival and the athletic festival. It'd make sense for her to be president." 

"I see…" My impression of Sagami was awful, so I couldn't even imagine it. But it was true that to someone who didn't know anything about what had gone on with the committees, Sagami would have a history of relevant work. And second-years aside, for the first- and third-years, who wouldn't really know what had actually happened, that title might actually hold some weight. 

This was an unforeseen dark horse. Most of all, using Sagami wouldn't hurt me personally. Tobe, who also occupied the category of people I wouldn't care about using, I would also add as a candidate. Man, he's such a good guy. 

Okay, this was probably about all we were going to get. Now to consider the operational methods. 

When I turned to Kawasaki to thank her first, she eyed me, then pouted her lips as if she wanted to say something. I asked her with a look if there was still something else, and she added at a mutter, "And, like…you." 

"Oh, that's funny. But I'm not going to get thirty nominations." "I know. I just wanted to say it." She jerked her head away. 

If you know it, then don't say it. That kind of thing gets my heart rate up a little. 

Anyway, the pieces had basically all been assembled. I confirmed each one. "Hayama, Ebina, Miura, Sagami, and while we're at it, Tobe. And Isshiki, huh? I'll have these guys be candidates," I said. 

Komachi's expression turned doubtful. "Huh? I thought you weren't going to have that Isshiki person be the candidate." 

"She will be, in the end. That's why we've got the others. They're like the groundwork—or maybe like bait for her." Well, I did in fact have a goal beyond that, but it'd be better to explain that further down the road. At this point, Komachi wasn't all that convinced, so I figured it was best to take things one step at a time. 

"Bait, huh…? Will anyone do that for you? Or wait, can you even ask them, Bro?" 

"Ha-ha-ha, of course not. So I'm gonna throw in their names without asking, and then we gather tons of nominators." And so to that end, there was one more person whose help I wanted to borrow. "Totsuka, can I use your name, too?" 

He must have been surprised to be called on, as he gave me a blank look. "Huh…? Well, but I…I don't really understand this stuff…" He twisted around a little uncomfortably and looked down. He gazed at a corner of the floor for a while in silence before he looked at me with upturned eyes. "…You won't do anything funny?" 

"I promise," I replied. I wouldn't do anything funny, but I might do something queer. Oh, maybe I already was. Is this love? 

Totsuka smiled at me. "…Then that's fine. Take mine, too." 

"Thanks." 

Th-then I'll take your name… Hachiman Totsuka would be nice, huh?! It kinda sounds like a shrine. 

Anyhow, now all the pieces were assembled. Thanks to Totsuka, I felt like the pieces of my heart were all fitted in right, too, so the world was all love and peace in the end. 

As I was mentally chuckling to myself, Komachi, who'd been thinking and hmming beside me, opened her mouth. "But even if you borrow their names, they're gonna turn it down in the end, so they can't ultimately be candidates, right?" 

Just as Komachi said, without the consent of the individuals in question, the applications for candidacy couldn't be completed. Because of what had happened with Isshiki, I doubted anyone would be able to hand in that form without the candidate's permission now. 

"It's okay if they don't," I explained. "Like, we don't need them to. I just have to gather nominators." 

"?" Now everyone at the table looked confused, including Komachi still. 

"What do you think would happen if every student in the school nominated you?" 

"Well, you'd win." Komachi nodded as if this was completely obvious. 

I nodded back at her. "Of course you would. Or rather, the other candidates wouldn't be able to announce candidacy. Since if you've nominated one candidate, you can't write yourself down for another." 

"Oh, I never imagined there was a rule like that… No man is above the law…," Zaimokuza marveled. 

But it didn't matter if it was a rule or not. Also, that Seagal movie has nothing to do with it. 

"No, I don't know if that's written in the protocol or not. Most students don't even know there is a protocol in the first place. But if you sign for someone, you're not gonna think you're allowed to put your name down for someone else, right?" Since they won't know about the protocol, at times like these, people will make judgments based on common sense. 

If you could only make one recommendation, that would create another side to the nomination-gathering stage. It would not only be a simple cut of weak candidates, but also function as a preliminary election. That could be inferred from the expression "at least thirty nominators." That meant you could make it as many above thirty as you wanted. 

"So I'll flood the pool with candidates and gather as many nominators as possible," I said. 

"If you gather everyone ahead of time, then the others can't announce candidacy, huh?" Taishi looked at me with sparkling eyes, like, Whoa! 

But sorry, it's not that simple. "Well, if you were only considering this on a basic level, then yes. But that's probably impossible. This is ultimately sort of like buying time. If there are a lot of candidates, then people will worry about who to nominate. So it'll make it harder for them to sign." Though extremely mild, this would have some effect in deterring nominations from the other two. But it was ultimately just a deterrent and couldn't finish the deal. 

I needed one more move. 

"…Hey," someone said to me as I was thinking about how to draw my cards. Lifting my head, I saw a serious look in Kawasaki's eyes. She was kind of glaring at me, too, but, well, that's her resting face. "Forget whether this'll actually work or not. Won't it be bad for you if it gets found out that you've used these people's names without permission?" 

Once the older sister had spoken, the younger brother also nodded and agreed. "That's right; you'll get beat up, Bro. They'll beat you to a pulp." 

"Don't call me Bro." I'll beat you up, I thought, but Kawasaki beside him was scaring me, so I didn't say that part out loud. 

Furthermore, Komachi, sitting beside me, tugged on my sleeve, too. "Bro." The corners of her mouth were turned down as she was making dissatisfied noises. She didn't have to say any more for me to understand. She meant to say, Don't do the same thing again. 

"I know. I'm not going to just waltz out there." Then there would be no point. 

It was completely true that it was arrogant in the first place to believe just hating me would move all the students in the school to action. I had to adopt more complete methods—incorporating objectivity, even. 

"So then who'll do it?" Totsuka asked. 

I shrugged. "I couldn't make someone else do something like this." It wasn't like I wanted to put someone in the line of fire. I didn't want someone else to take my position. I mean, it'd be awkward if they were to steal away that spot where I belonged. It was pretty comfortable after all. 

"So I'll have a nonhuman do it," I said, prompting everyone to look at me like, What? 

Guess I'll have to explain it properly… "Zaimokuza." 

"Hey, no, I count as human!" Zaimokuza declared his humanity and waved his hands as if to say, I absolutely can't, no, I seriously don't wanna do it! His extremely honest reaction made me smile wryly. "I get that. I was just calling on you. Do you have a Twitter?" 

"Pwoff-foff-foff! Ohhh, I have it all, laddie: a main, a sub, a private, a sub-sub, and another sub from when me main were banned. Ye may leave the twitterin' to me. Me clanspeople call me the Great 

Computer Adept!" 

What's with that weird laugh and that accent? Also, I think your relatives are making fun of you. 

But Zaimokuza having a Twitter would make things faster. As I explained Twitter to the others, I pulled up some random account on my phone to show them. "Twitter is like, well, a type of social networking service—I guess you call it a micro-blog. I don't really know exactly what you call it, but you write something in under one hundred forty characters. These posts are shown to your followers…basically, your readers. You can reply and have a sort of conversation." 

They could Google the details themselves if they wanted, so I moved on. "The great thing about it is the reach. If a message is retweeted, your content will spread and spread." 

Once my very general explanation was done, it seemed everyone basically understood what Twitter was. As expected of modern youngsters. Well, you hear about it a lot. Like with those people who practically post wanted posters for themselves, or information leaks, or people not thinking before they post and making themselves the target of an Internet mob. That was how I learned about Twitter, too. "So what about Twitter?" For Zaimokuza, who was already on it, it had to be a boring explanation. He pushed me to continue. 

"We'll create some candidate support accounts on Twitter. But we make them look legit, like real people are running them. And then these fake people will gather nominations online." 

"Fake people… Hmm…," Komachi muttered, like maybe she understood, and maybe she didn't. 

I nodded at her. 

It was the instant version, a Band-Aid, a breaking of the rules for one time. 

But I could use this method just this once. 

"That's not against the rules?" Komachi gave me a dubious look. 

If we were talking about the rules, I was pretty sure it wasn't written in the student council election protocol that you couldn't do your election campaigning online. Well, nobody had even thought of the Internet back when they'd written the protocol. 

Plus, this behavior wasn't something the rules would even apply to. "I'm not going to actually submit it, so it doesn't matter." 

"I dunno…" Komachi folded her arms and tilted her head. 

I clapped my hand lightly on her head and said, "Well, even if it's not allowed, the ones who'll get the complaints and the blame will be those fake people. The unwitting candidates and those who supported them will be victims, while the onus lies on these fictional people. If we do that, everyone maintains their reputations. Nobody'll get hurt." 

Someone always gets hurt. 

If a world existed where that wasn't true, then it would only mean everyone is hurt equally. 

If you know someone has to take the fall to keep the world turning, but you still hate the idea of someone having to fall, then you have no choice but to create a scapegoat. And rather than choosing someone who already exists, you create something that will take the injuries and hate into its body and heart. 

This was probably the best card I could play. It would take some work, and it wasn't particularly efficient, but still, I could honestly say no harm done. 

"Whoa, Bro…" Taishi's unvarnished opinion slipped out, a slightly stiff smile on his face. 

"Ha-ha-ha, not too much praise, now. Also, don't call me Bro." 

This made Kawasaki inform me rather sharply, "I don't think Taishi is complimenting you, though." 

Huh? Is that right? So is he freaked out after all? 

"B-but it'd be nice if it works out, right?" Totsuka intervened. 

Komachi sighed and shot a glare at me. "Well, it's fine if it does work out, but…" 

Normally, when I came up with something like this, Komachi would crisply shoot something right back at me, but her reactions had been slower than usual. This bothered me, so I asked her, "Is this idea that bad?" 

"Hmm, it's more like…I don't really know…if it's a good thing for you, Bro." Komachi said, anxious. It seemed she couldn't explain it well herself. 

Well, I did think it was an underhanded and unfair method. 

"But you shall never know if you do not try," Zaimokuza declared. 

"There is aught else." 

He was right. My cards were limited, and what's more, I was drawing a card that fundamentally didn't exist. The duels of the strongest duelists are always fated. A duelist can even create the cards they draw. That's how it is. 

"So how will you run them?" Zaimokuza asked. "You can make accounts, but still, gaining followers and retweets is no easy task." 

"I'll follow every single kid who goes to this school. Find one, and you should be able to find more from their followers, like in a chain. And…when students are on Twitter together, there's a pressure to follow back. Especially with girls," I said. 

Zaimokuza slapped his knee. "Oh-ho, I get the gist of it. You greet them by saying you're from the same school in a reply and then request to be mutuals, eh?" 

As expected of the Great Computer Adept. He understands these things oh so well. 

When students are interacting on Twitter, real life connections always get brought into it. If someone tells you they're from the same school and follows you, even if they're not a direct acquaintance, it's human nature to think, I can't not follow them back… And once they followed the account, we'd have them in the bag, and the tweets made by our fake account would be displayed on their timeline. 

"So the usernames and posts will look something like this." Pulling a ballpoint pen out of my bag, I snatched a paper napkin from the table to scribble it out. 

Username: Support Account for _____ 

[Soubu HS only] Make them student council president! We're currently gathering nominators! RT to support and put your name on the #nominatorregister! [OK to spread] 

While checking on my phone, I made up a decent enough sample. 

"Basically, you post this periodically to get retweets. And then you write the names of all the people who retweeted it on your nominator register." 

Besides this, I also had to come up with a profile for the accounts. For this part, there would be difficulty in presenting exactly the right amount of information. I had to ride a fine line: not anyone specific but someone who seemed like they would exist. It'd be a pain to make multiple accounts… 

Everyone spent some time inspecting the example I'd written up, as well as some real tweets online. It would be best to have multiple people checking these to make them more accurate. It helped to have extra manpower at times like these. 

Eventually, Taishi, who'd been watching this, said "Um!" and raised his hand. "What will you do if the people you're making candidates see this and deny they're running?" 

Yeah, it was very possible the people in question would see this… "Hmm…" I mulled over this for a bit before I said, "You know, when you post, you should write, We're not telling them about this yet! Tee-hee. Then you'll be fine to support them without permission." 

Following Taishi, Totsuka, who'd been looking at my phone, raised his hand, too. Go ahead, Totsuka. 

"So the names on here are called usernames, right, Hachiman? It looks like it's not their real names, but is that okay?" 

"Yep. If someone uses their real name, we can just write that, or if we can ask to find out, that also works," I said. 

Kawasaki gave me a dull look. "Nobody's gonna tell you their names." 

My, Miss Kawasaki, you have a surprisingly tough guard. I don't mind kids like that. Because I have a real tough guard, too. Prudence is important. 

I'm not stupid enough to tell someone my real name if they ask out of the blue, either. I got that much. "Well, frankly, it doesn't matter if they're anonymous. This isn't an official list of nominators. We're not going to submit this, and we're not going to publicize it, either. All it has to do is make them conscious of the person they're voting for, and if it stops them from nominating any others, then that's extra lucky." 

"That's enough?" Komachi asked, surprised. 

I nodded. "The real value of this is in how it'll help us with negotiations." 

"Negotiation…," Komachi muttered quietly. 

Well, maybe I'd put that in a rather formal manner. 

That was the real point of these fake accounts. Hedging our bets with people who don't actually exist and the secret online campaign to hamstring Yukinoshita's and Yuigahama's attempts to gather nominators were no more than secondary by-products of that goal. The most important thing was the accomplishment these accounts would assemble. 

That accomplishment would become my evidence for convincing 

Iroha Isshiki, and then Iroha Isshiki would be the key piece in my next step. 

By getting opinions from everyone here and having them submit their concerns, I was sure to have eliminated most uncertain elements. 

The remaining problem was who would manage the accounts, but… Well, me and Zaimokuza, I guess. "Zaimokuza, can I ask you to run half the accounts?" 

"You can indeed!" Zaimokuza put on a cool, dark smile. 

You get pretty confident when it's your field of specialty, huh? 

That show of confidence just scared me instead, though, so I made sure to warn him, "Don't reveal who you really are. You only have to pull the wool over their eyes for the next three days." 

"Leave it to me. After that one time my attempts to disguise my IP were foiled, I learned much, terrifying though the experience was." 

I didn't know that happened to him… But, well, if he'd had one scary experience, it was unlikely he'd blow it. 

I was thinking, Now we can get started, when Kawasaki rapped on the table. What, is that Morse code? I thought, but it seemed she was calling for me. Uh, just call me normally. Or do you not remember people's names? You're so mean, Kawa-something! 

"What is it?" I asked. 

Kawasaki glanced over at Zaimokuza and said, voice low, "Can he write to make it sound like a girl?" 

"It's okay. Zaimokuza is great at stuff like that," I said. 

Zaimokuza popped his thumb up and snapped a ding! of a wink. "Aye, leave it to my literary talents!" 

"That's not what I mean… Find some random account and either copy their text and replace key words or trace their format. You're good at that sort of thing, right?" 

"'Tis what I assumed you meant, ding, ding!" Suddenly, he gave me a self-deprecating smile. 

Uh, that's a fine talent in its own way, so value it, okay? 

But now we were basically finished with the discussion, so I drank my coffee, which had long-since gone cold. 

One person at the table, Komachi, had a long face, though. 

"What is it, Komachi?" I asked, voice so quiet that only she, sitting beside me, would be able to hear. 

She replied so quietly, it was as if her voice might fade away. "I was wondering if this'll really work out." 

"It'll work out. I'll do it right, all the way up to the final finishing touches. Leave it to me." 

"Okay…," she replied, but she was still looking down. 

I put my hand on her drooping head and gave it a couple of pats. 

"Make sure you actually talk about it with Yukino and Yui, okay? Promise?" Komachi said, taking my head. 

"Yeah, I will. But there's no point in talking when you've got nothing convincing. So I'll do it after we're ready to go." 

"You always sound logical, but you also skip over tons of stuff, so Komachi's worried…" 

"It'll be okay." 

I'd manage somehow. 

This was a really complicated and annoying way to go about this, but if it was the only way I'd check all the boxes, then I had to choose this option. 

I'd gotten my reason, established the problem, and gained a means. 

Now I just had to move it into action. 

8 

When the time is ripe, Hachiman Hikigaya makes his speech. 

Late at night, I was on my home computer, checking all the fake accounts we were running. In the three days since the creation of these accounts, I'd been glued to Twitter at almost all hours, pulling strings here and there. 

Of course, not every student in school had a Twitter account, and some people weren't interested in the student council elections. There were dead accounts, too, and my tweets were often ignored. At one point, I stopped making much progress with retweets, so I added another Hayama support account. 

Thanks to that, though I was far from the 1,200 of the total school population, I'd managed to break through my goal number. Thanks so much for your help, Hayama. 

Now I could finally talk with Iroha Isshiki, and then Yukino Yukinoshita and Yui Yuigahama afterward. I'd managed to create enough to negotiate with. 

But now, for the finishing touches. 

Computer still on, I reached out to my cell phone. 

I wonder if I have Zaimokuza's number, I thought as I looked at my contacts list to discover it wasn't there after all. 

"Agh…" 

Thinking about it now, I must have not registered it because I'd figured I'd never use it anyway. Or had I erased it…? My memories on this were vague. 

Oh, he'd be in my call history. 

When I realized this, I tried looking at my call history. Most of it was Komachi, but when I scrolled back to around the time of the cultural festival, I found an unfamiliar number. Oh yeah, I did call him then… 

This device is basically a multifunctional alarm clock featuring additional phone functionality with call history that never quite disappears, but I should probably give credit where it's due on that point. 

I called the number in my history. 

He picked up before even one ring was over. "'Tis I." 

He was the only person who would answer the phone like that. "Hey, Zaimokuza?" 

"Herm, what is your business? I'm playing a game on my phone, so I'd like you to hurry it up." 

Oh, that's why he picked up after one ring. And here I was getting freaked out, thinking he had to be constantly waiting for me to call him. Well, I didn't want to take up much of his time. Let's get this done quickly. 

"Sorry. It's about the Twitter accounts. There's something I wanted to ask you to do." 

"Ferm?" 

I couldn't really tell if that reply meant yes or no, but I told him what I wanted anyway. 

It wasn't anything that difficult. Just a little change in the configuration. 

Of course, upon hearing my request, Zaimokuza the Great Computer Adept would not decline. However, his reply to me was a little inarticulate. "Herm, well, such minor configuration changes would be quick to implement, but…" 

"Then you handle the accounts you're managing. I'll do it for the ones I'm managing." 

"I mind not, but… But is this a good idea, Hachiman?" The consideration for me was unusual, especially coming from Zaimokuza. 

Making an effort to speak calmly, I replied, "Is what a good idea?" 

"…I would not call this technique praiseworthy… 'Twill bring danger…," Zaimokuza said gravely after a few seconds of silence. For something worded in such silly terms, I felt like I could hear a hidden seriousness in his breathing through my smartphone speaker. 

As I was wondering how to answer that, he interrupted my thoughts, practically yelling, "Oh, but don't get the wrong idea! I'm not worried about you! I'm afeared I'll be taken as responsible for this, since I'm carrying it out, and that you might mayhap cut the lizard's tail here, to boot. I pronounce to you here and now that in that case, I'm prepared to expose you." 

"You're awful. It's so refreshing." I couldn't help but smile. It was hard to tell with this guy if he was speaking seriously or if he meant this as a roundabout warning. "It'll be okay. Only we know where these accounts really come from. Even if people wanted to find out who they really are, the people described in these accounts don't actually exist. So nobody'll get hurt." "I hope so…" He was still doubtful. 

But I had some wonderful words to offer him. "Did you know, Zaimokuza? …As long as you don't make a problem a problem, it won't be a problem." 

"…I believe you are even more awful, Hachiman." 

"I don't want to hear that from you. Anyway, just do it." 

"Herm, then you leave me with no choice. I only ask that it shall not be made my fault! Truly!" 

"I get it… See you," I said, and then without waiting for his reply, I hung up. That part at the end sounded kinda like he was shouting for real… 

But Zaimokuza's worries were groundless. No matter which way things rolled, he wouldn't be taking any blame. 

Refreshing the browser, I confirmed that the configuration of the accounts he'd been handling were changed. 

Now I just had to print it all out. 

Until that finished, I leaned against the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. 

Friday dawned. It was the day of the final battle. 

But it wasn't as if there was going to be a final vote. In fact, the point of that day was to prevent that, to keep a fight from happening. So it would be more accurate to call this a conclusion rather than a final battle. 

Though I could only put it in such a cool-sounding way up until the end of third period. Once fourth started, unsurprisingly, I was getting nervous. 

After this, a gamble awaited me. 

During fourth period, all I was considering was how to make this more likely to succeed. No, maybe it wasn't quite right to call it considering. I was endlessly going over pointless thoughts again and again, as if they were wordplay or logic puzzles, to ease my anxiety. 

The passing time was like a bed of needles. All I had on my mind was how many more minutes were left as I glanced at the clock. 

Eventually, that ended, too. Class was over, and the instant the bell rang, I left the classroom first. When I did, I didn't forget to bring the plastic file folder I'd prepared the day before. 

I was heading to 1-C—Iroha Isshiki's class. 

I didn't know her behavioral patterns. I had no clue where she normally was during lunch break, either. That was why the only time I could catch her was at this time, right after class. 

I ran through a number of simulations in my head on what I should say to address her, or how I should ask someone to call her for me. It's okay, I made sure to practice this in front of my bathroom mirror. No problem…probably… I'm kinda uneasy about this… 

But in no time, as I was wrapped up in my worries, I arrived at classroom C. 

I stealthily peeked inside the open door. You know, like a real creeper. It must have been unusual for students from other grades to come by, as I could sense people here and there watching me… I had better get this done before I got reported! 

Taking a look around, I found Isshiki at the back of the class by the window with some friends, right about to open up her lunch… Guess I have to get someone to call her for me. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I practiced this so much… Hachiman, you can do it! (said in the voice of Saika Totsuka). Okay, I can do this. 

There were three boys with glasses near the entrance. I called out to that group. "Um… Excuse me?" I'd been so careful not to sound shrill, my voice wound up coming out weirdly low. 

"Y-yeah…?" one of them replied, but the other two looked ready to start whispering about me. Well, that was no surprise. 

Don't let it bother you; push through. "Can you call Isshiki for me?" 

"Huh…" The boy answered vaguely. He was reluctant, but he did go call Isshiki for me. 

Upon receiving this message, Isshiki's head swiftly jerked in my direction, then immediately, she looked disappointed. Sorry, it's me. 

She came over to me cheerfully, putting a smile on. "Did you need somethiiing?" 

"There's something I want you to help me with concerning the student council election," I said. 

Isshiki cringed apologetically. "Ah…so after school wouldn't work? Um, we're having lunch, so…?" 

I'd assumed she'd refuse, so I'd already anticipated this answer. Filling my dull eyes with as much willpower as I could, I pushed through with a stern tone. "Nope." 

"No, huh…?" She folded her arms for a while and groaned, but eventually, she seemed ready to do what she had to. "All right. Please wait a sec, 'kaaay?" she said, then trotted back to her desk, put away her lunch, and trotted up to me again. "So what are we doing?" 

"Could you come with me to the library? I just need a little something done." 

"Agh… Fiiine." 

For a moment there, she had this really begrudging look… 

The library at lunchtime was completely silent—probably because few people used it around noon in the first place, and the atmosphere there was always bleak at this time of year. 

In one corner of this quiet library, I heard a particularly loud sigh. 

It was coming from right in front of me. "Agh…" Iroha Isshiki sighed again deeply, as if she was trying to tell me something. And then she looked over at me. "Do I haaaave to do this?" 

"Uh, look, though, you don't want to be president, right…? Besides, there's no one else to help, so we've got to plug away at this while we have the time," I said, and Isshiki pouted, puffing her cheeks. She's so pushy… 

"…I guess? But it's so much work to copy all this down!" 

I had requested that she transcribe the list of nominator retweets we'd gathered using the fake accounts onto the nominator register. It really was a pain… 

The simple task of transcribing these names was a boring job. And doing it with her, I felt her pain. 

And this meant Isshiki began to place more relative weight on chatting. Or maybe it was a defensive strategy on her part, just talking to get through the awkwardness of being with someone like me. So I doubt she was enjoying talking to me. 

Well, it wasn't great that her writing was slowing down, but this wasn't a bad direction to be headed. 

"Oh, so, like," she said, "was that girl you were hanging out with before Hayama's girlfriend?" 

"I dunno." 

"C'mon, you can tell me!" 

"Once you're done with this." 

"Well, she doesn't seem like much of a problem, so I guess it's fine…" 

She's scary, mumbling stuff like that to herself… 

She probably wouldn't act like this in front of Hayama. Often, when women show weaknesses to men, it's not because they're looking for anything—they just don't see you as a romantic interest, so they let things slip (I can personally verify this). You might say that still counts as a woman with a heavy guard showing goodwill, but very often she legitimately hates you (I can personally verify this, too). 

Isshiki continued to chatter to stem the tide of boredom. "Are you friends with Hayama?" 

"No, not at all. That was a coincidence. I accompanied them only because a former classmate asked me to." 

"Oh, then come hang out with me. We'll invite Hayama and go together." 

"Uh, how about no…" I'm really getting used as a pretext here. You might as well paste me in at the beginning of this book. 

But whatever the case, I'd been thinking to broach the subject of Hayama, so this was convenient. From where we were in the conversation, it made it easy to ask, too. "So, uh, do you li… What do you think of Hayama?" Without thinking, I changed it to a vaguer question. I am, of course, the pure maiden Hachiman Hikigaya and a little embarrassed to say the word like in romantic contexts. 

But my ambiguous manner of speaking must have come off as weird and creepy, as Isshiki's mouth dropped open, and then she panicked into a bow. "Wh-what? Are you hitting on me? I'm sorry, not gonna happen. I like someone else." 

She rejected me so naturally. Instantaneous defeat… What is this, Ramenman? We hadn't even fought yet, though… 

"I'm not hitting on you… I just wanted to know what you think of him." 

"Hmm, I dunnooo…? Personally, I guess I'd say I do." 

"Oh, I see, 'kinda like,' huh? Kinda…" 

"I think he's kinda nice, and…yeah, I'd like to get my hands—hold hands with him and stuff?" 

She was about to say get my hands on him… That bitch in fluffy sheep's clothing. 

But I'd been able to phrase the question I'd wanted to ask. 

Now I could begin negotiations with Iroha Isshiki with confidence. 

I'd never quite been able to figure her out, until now—partly because I'd only become acquainted with her recently but also because there's such a great difference in our positions and environments. 

Most of all, I don't think I'd seen the core elements of her character. 

But now, I figured I'd lined up all the pieces—through the conversations I'd had with Isshiki and through the course of my own life. 

Iroha Isshiki has a shrewdness about her, the ability to use her immaturity and innocence. This is something my little sister, Komachi Hikigaya, also has. However, Isshiki lacks that core of sweetness and cuteness. So I could liken her to a completely uncute Komachi. 

In terms of her social mask and calculated nature, she's Haruno Yukinoshita—but not nearly as skilled. For that reason, I could call her a lesser Haruno. 

The fluffy and gentle feel to her is a lot like Meguri, but she's a fundamentally different type of person. Therefore, Iroha Isshiki is a pseudo-Meguri. 

Her desire to have people fawning over her might be fairly similar to Sagami, but she seems better at it than Sagami is. This makes Iroha Isshiki like an ultra-intense Sagami. 

It's occurred to me that her behavioral principle of creating a character of herself and attempting to maintain it is close to Kaori Orimoto's behavior. Thus, Iroha Isshiki is a variant type of Orimoto. 

Taking the above into consideration, I should be able to derive her tendencies and how she should be dealt with. 

She isn't particularly proud, so when flattery is the most effective method, she'll charm who she needs to, and she takes care to ensure she will be loved well into the future. On the other hand, she has no intention of giving herself out freely and is cautious not to hurt her own reputation. Basically, she wants to protect her own brand image. 

This is exactly why she didn't want a vote of confidence—because there was a risk the vote of confidence style of election would harm her image. There was nothing she'd hate more than a fight she would obviously win. Running in a contest like that wouldn't make her own stock rise. 

This mode of thought may be similar to that of a manager of a conservative, midsize business. 

So then we should be able to have a businesslike conversation. 

My silence must have made Isshiki bored again, because she was starting to wheedle a little. "Heeeey, Hikigaya, is there really any point to doing this? It's a lot of trouble to write it by hand, too…" 

"Well, you're not wrong…" 

"You're being kinda vague here…" She shot an annoyed expression at me. 

"Whether you do it or not, Yukinoshita or Yuigahama will win. So in that sense, it is pointless… You can't beat them, no matter what you do." 

"Huh, that's kinda mean. Well, I don't feel like I have to win, though…," Isshiki commented with a smile, as if warding off a joke. 

With incredible seriousness and complete earnestness, I replied, "Don't worry. You won't. I promise you that." 

Her eyebrow twitched for a second. "Y-yeah, for sure. So, like, if I did actually win, it'd be weird, huh?" 

I nodded and continued dispassionately. "Hayama's doing Yukinoshita's campaign speech after all." 

"Ohhh yeah, that's right, huh?" 

"And Yuigahama has Miura with her." 

"Yeah, Miura…" 

It was helpful that she reacted to that name. I was aware there was some bad blood between Isshiki and Miura. Hoping to kindle that, I kept talking. "Besides, Yuigahama is both Hayama's classmate and his friend, and Hayama and Yukinoshita have known each other since they were kids." 

"Yeah…? Wait, really? That long?" Isshiki clearly must not have known about Hayama and Yukinoshita's relationship, as her last question came out more intense than before. 

"I think it's obvious if you just look at them, but that's the kind of people they are. Invincible in every way." 

"Agh, well…" Isshiki uttered a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan. 

If I were to offer my extremely personal opinion… 

I'm sure there are no girls in this school more amazing than those two—probably no matter where else you looked. 

Noticing that Isshiki was gradually speaking less and less, I pressed her further. "Besides, even the ones who recommended you probably won't actually vote for you." 

"Agh…" 

"I'm sure they're laughing it up now. Then they'll see you lose and laugh some more." 

"…" This time she didn't reply. 

But I kept talking. "Pretty aggravating, huh?" 

There was the sound of a mechanical pencil lead snapping. That was the only sound in the room, and it made my voice sound particularly loud. 

"They think they're allowed to trash-talk you because you're a little conspicuous. They're fooling around, they tell themselves. It's a joke; they're just teasing." 

Isshiki's hand was no longer moving. Her eyes were on the mechanical pencil in her hand. 

"You've got to give as hard as you get, after all…" 

"…Agh, well, it'd be nice if I could do it," she muttered. 

I fired back at her with honesty. "You can." 

Isshiki's shoulders twitched. Noticing this, I deliberately spoke slowly. "They've pulled this sneaky crap on you to show their contempt for you and hurt you. So then you should turn it back on them and get the best results out of the situation they created." 

If, just possibly— If, to a girl, half the girls were her enemies, if Iroha Isshiki really did like Hayato Hayama… 

…then I had no choice but to bet on that. I had to bet on Iroha Isshiki's pride as a girl. 

"Yukinoshita has Hayama's support, and Yuigahama has Miura's support. Don't you want to try beating those two?" Those words made Isshiki lift her head. 

But then she immediately put on a shallow business smile. "But I can't win, can I? And if I did, I'd have so many other problems to deal with?" 

I think Iroha Isshiki is a fairly smart girl. She has a proper understanding of her own value and acts in a way that's desired of her. But she's also cunning enough to use that attitude only when it's useful to her. 

And because she's smart, she would understand exactly how far Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were above her. So I had to eliminate that restraint, or Isshiki wouldn't challenge them. 

"Just what do you think I've been having you write?" I asked her. 

"It's the nominator register, right?" 

"That's right…but this is your nominator register." 

"What the—? Uh, wait… Huuuh?" 

You don't have to correct yourself to sound cuter (and I say this out of the goodness of my heart). 

I pulled a different stack of paper, not the list, out of my plastic file folder. These were printouts of all the retweets on Iroha Isshiki's support account. I laid them out one by one in front of her. 

"Um, but I already got all my nominations…" 

"The range for nominators is thirty or more. You can gather as many as you like." 

Isshiki took the printouts in hand, examining them carefully. 

I added, "A little over four hundred. That's how many supporters you have." 

"…" 

Had she done the math to understand what that number meant? 

Eventually, she figured it out and jerked her hand away from the papers. "Th-this is too sudden; I can't! I—I mean, I haven't even been thinking about a speech or anything like that!" 

"Do you still have the paper with the election promises Yukinoshita talked about?" I said suddenly. 

Though confused, Isshiki replied, "Huh? Ah, probably." 

"Good, let's go with that." 

This made Isshiki fall into thought. "Hmm… Then wouldn't that make me a puppet?" 

"Not at all," I said. 

Isshiki tilted her head, question marks in her expression. 

I smirked a little. "It's not like you're actually going to follow through with it. You don't call someone who doesn't do as they're told a puppet. Nobody keeps their election promises anyway, and nobody is expecting you to, either." 

"Isn't that worse than being a puppet?" Isshiki asked, exasperated. But that annoyed smile quickly faded, too. "…But, like, even if I did become president, I don't think I could do it in the end, you knooow? Like, I just don't really have much confidence. And I have my club…" Of course Isshiki would feel uneasy. 

If she threw caution to the wind and chose to become student council president now, clumsiness and failure later on would hurt her brand image. Right now, risk and return lay in the balance, and the scales were wavering. 

I had to transform that risk, that drawback, into something advantageous to her. "Well, it's true that it'd be hard to do both at once. But there's a lot to gain from doing it, too. What do you think that is?" 

"What? …Well, experience, and goodwill from teachers, I guess? And heeey, you sound like a teacher." Isshiki gave me a dull look, relentlessly communicating what she was thinking: If this is just a boring lecture, I don't need it. 

But I couldn't have her underestimating me. "…No, that's not it. What you'll gain is an image. 'It's so hard to be student council president as a first-year, but I'm trying so hard and going to club activities, too! I'm so brave!'" I tried to say it as cutely and Isshiki-like as I could. 

But she just quietly muttered, "Whoa…" 

Oh, it's no good 'cause it's like one of those overly long titles, huh? 

But I cleared my throat and continued, and Isshiki did react better to what I said next. "If you're a first-year, people don't mind as much when you screw up, even though ability-wise, there isn't much difference between first- and second-years," I said. 

Isshiki looked at me with surprise, and when our eyes met, I gave her one more push. "What's more, if you're doing both, when things are a drag with student council, you can use your club as an excuse, and the reverse is true, too… These two things will be an advantage available only to you." 

"B-but, like…it's still gonna be haaard, right?" Isshiki was fidgeting her shoulders. This was the most positive reaction thus far. 

Like Isshiki said, if she were to become president now, she'd be a puppet—no, even less than that. She wouldn't be able to do anything on her own. But that was exactly what might make her fitting as president. Needing help and protection and having a lot of people, including Hayama, doting on her was her greatest virtue and merit. 

Simply put: "Times like that, you should just talk to Hayama. If you'd like, have him help you. He'll be with you the whole year. If you go out to eat after club to talk to him, he might even walk you home after that," I said, all in one breath. 

Isshiki blinked. "…Are you actually smart?" 

"I guess." And being a malicious jerk was the price. 

Isshiki let out a sigh with a smile that could have been sincere or sarcastic. "Well…if I have all this support, I don't have a choice, do I? That proposal is fairly attractive… And besides, I don't want the class laughing at me behind my back…" 

She punctuated her response there and then revealed an exceptionally mean smile. "So I'll let you trick me into this." 

Strangely enough… 

…I found myself thinking this smile was cuter. 

I slowly walked through the hallway of the special-use building. Though it had only been a few days, seeing it felt particularly nostalgic. 

The post-school bustle, the commotion of the students, the calls from clubs coming from outside, and the brass band that could be heard from a distance all felt nostalgic. 

I stood before the clubroom and put my hand on the door. It wasn't locked. It seemed they were already here. I blew out a little breath and entered the clubroom. 

The faint smell of black tea hung in the air. 

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama sat in their usual seats, but they weren't talking. 

Yukinoshita would normally have been reading a book, but that day she was sitting up straight in silence. Yuigahama, beside her, wasn't on her phone. She glanced over at Yukinoshita, looking uncomfortable. 

Understandable. 

There were already rumors spreading that Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were going to run in the election for president. I'd had my eye on Twitter, and people there had been talking about it. 

Of course, Yukinoshita would also be aware that Yuigahama was going to announce candidacy. That was why Yuigahama must have been worried about what Yukinoshita would say. 

But that would end, too, right here and now. 

"Sorry to make you wait," I addressed them before pulling out a chair to sit in my usual seat. 

Yukinoshita looked at me, then opened her mouth, which until now had been pulled in a tight line. "It's unusual for you to expressly call us here." 

"Oh, I figured we'd come up with our final decision," I said. 

Yukinoshita seemed a little surprised, and then her gaze slid down. As if considering, she repeated slowly, "Our final decision…?" 

"Yeah." I looked over at Yuigahama, who was silent, looking at me. She was waiting for me to speak. 

Even if our methods were different, it would be best to come to a conclusion as a club—with the matter of a one-time item like this, especially so. 

The student council election was a one-time deal. There could be no trial and error. This opportunity existed only at this time, in this moment. Since we couldn't test things out multiple times, it would best to work out a common policy in the end. 

"You haven't changed your minds?" I confirmed one last time, though I knew how they would answer. 

Yukinoshita gave me a hard expression. Without the sharpness in her eyes softening even slightly, she immediately declared, "No. This plan is the best one." 

Her tone was firm at its core, piercing through me like a physical strike. 

The forceful pressure of it made me hesitate. The clubroom went dead silent. 

And then came the quietest whisper. But its stillness meant it made that much more of an impression. "…I…haven't changed my mind, either." Yuigahama didn't look at us at all, silently staring at her desk. 

In the presence of the serious aura Yuigahama emitted, Yukinoshita bit her lip. "Yuigahama, there's no reason for you to run…" 

"I'm going to. And I'll win." Her quiet voice was stubborn, and there was no sense she would give in. I couldn't read her expression; her face was still directed at the floor. 

In a weak, quiet voice, her narrowed eyes lonely as if she was witnessing something heartbreaking, something sorrowful, Yukinoshita questioned Yuigahama's drooping profile. "Why you, too…?" 

"…Because if you go, Yukinon, the club'll disappear… I don't want that," Yuigahama replied, voice trembling. 

Yukinoshita slowly assembled an admonishment. "I said before—that won't happen. So there's no need for you to run, too." 

"But…!" Yuigahama raised her face to protest, but staring at Yukinoshita made her lose the rest of what she was going to say. 

I picked up after that. "You don't actually have to run in the election, Yuigahama… Or you, Yukinoshita." 

"What do you mean?" Yukinoshita asked, giving me an accusatory look. Her eyes were sharply narrowed. "I believe I rejected your plan." 

Yes, she'd rejected it thoroughly, saying that my belief that I could make things work out on my own somehow was completely arrogant. And then Hayama had taught me just how people will see me, and how they will force their own arbitrary opinions on me, no matter what my expectations are… Well, someone else helped me realize it might be more than that. 

"…Yeah, that's why that isn't my plan. I've…dropped that sort of thing." It really would be different from my methods thus far. I'd spent more time taking the time to hedge my risks. I had cleared the conditions levied on me. 

"…" Yukinoshita went silent, as if she was a little bewildered. She seemed surprised I'd backed down so easily. 

"Then…why don't we have to run?" Yuigahama asked timidly, worried about what I might say. 

But my answer was incredibly normal. It wasn't anything much. "Isshiki wants to be student council president now. So the request itself doesn't exist anymore," I said. 

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were both dumbstruck. 

Yukinoshita said doubtfully, "Why all of a sudden…?" 

"It's less that it's sudden and more like our original assumptions were wrong." 

Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, and I had all been approaching this the wrong way. 

If she wasn't into it, letting her quit without a fuss was one way of doing it. But there was one more way—and that was to get her into it. To cancel out the problem itself. 

"It wasn't like Isshiki didn't want to be president. She just didn't want to lose the vote of confidence, or to get elected through a method by which she would inevitably win—like the vote of confidence—and end up looking bad as student council president." 

There was someone here who wasn't going to listen to others and was mentally writing their own success story—and that person wouldn't be satisfied unless things went according to their script. 

There was also someone here who had created a precise character and meant to maintain that. 

Isshiki simply didn't want to do anything disadvantageous to herself, anything that would cause her value to drop. So all I had to do was eliminate those drawbacks while presenting some advantages. "That's why if you clear all those conditions, then she'll become student council president." 

Listening to me talk, though confused, Yuigahama voiced her doubt. "B-but if we don't run, then won't it end up being a vote of confidence, in the end?" 

"Yeah, it will. But you have to make sure the vote of confidence is valuable to her. If it doesn't damage Iroha Isshiki's brand image, then that's something else." 

I could tell by the questioning looks in their eyes that they were unconvinced. 

But rather than explaining verbally, it would be faster to offer a concrete example. I grabbed my bag. "So I looked for that value." And then I pulled out the plastic file folder. 

The papers inside were the same ones I'd shown to Isshiki—a catalog of the support accounts run by the fictitious people, as well as the people who'd retweeted from those accounts, printed out and made into a list. 

"What is this?" Yuigahama asked me, taking one of the papers in hand. 

"There were these support accounts running on Twitter. Well, it seems there were accounts for other people, too, and not only the ones for Isshiki I have here." I was impressed with myself that I had the nerve to speak about this so carelessly when I'd been the one running them all myself. But none of what I'd said was a lie. 

Yukinoshita gazed at the printouts and, with some confusion, muttered, "Gathering nominators on the Internet…" 

"Not only that. Of all the different accounts, Isshiki's got the most retweets." 

"In other words, that would functionally make this a preliminary election…," Yukinoshita murmured. 

I nodded back at her. 

Even though it had been on Twitter, the fact of her victory would become a rumor that would spread. There had been other candidates, too, but I just had to ensure they'd feel the effects of this functional preliminary election and feel like they'd seen her run for student council president. Even if it didn't go all that well, it only had to fulfill Isshiki's sense of self-importance and become reason for her to act. 

Yukinoshita looked at the first sheet, then the second, also skimming over the list. Then she breathed a deep sigh. "I see; this is what you were doing… So that was why nobody jumped on board when I talked to them about recommending me…" 

I doubt the people Yukinoshita had spoken with were necessarily the same people who had retweeted these posts. But all this nominator gathering on Twitter would have given them space to think about it. And offering multiple choices would cause them to hesitate. 

Even if the time each individual hesitated was brief, if that tendency spread, it would cause even greater loss of time. You could say it's similar to the theory that traffic jams are originally caused by one car at the front suddenly hitting the brakes. 

There was the rustle of paper. 

Pointing to the printout in front of me, Yukinoshita asked me a question. Her tight grip on it creased the paper. "…Did you do this?" 

"These people did it themselves. I don't know who they are." 

"…I see." 

She didn't press me any further. 

She probably realized it was useless. I wasn't going to talk, and even if she wanted to find out, you couldn't identify any individuals based on the information displayed on those accounts. 

"This is a lot," Yuigahama muttered, looking stunned. 

"Right? About four hundred or so," I replied, also looking at the Iroha Isshiki support account printout. 

Between Hayama, Miura, Ebina, Isshiki, Totsuka, Sagami, Tobe, and the second Hayama support account I'd added after, the cumulative total number of retweets for all the periodic posts of the eight accounts added together was over four hundred. Hayama was the greatest among them. If you averaged out all the tweets, one tweet probably would not have even twenty retweets. The number had come from the repetition across multiple accounts. 

Yes, making use of all these accounts made the number four hundred. 

So Isshiki hadn't gathered that number alone. 

The number of Twitter users in Soubu High School was limited, so it would have been impossible for Iroha Isshiki to gather that much support in the first place. 

So there was just one lie here. 

Twitter has usernames in English letters, plus a Japanese account name, and that can be changed. The Japanese account names and the thumbnail images of all eight accounts we were currently running had been changed the night before to Iroha Isshiki support account. 

Those people behind the accounts, who were unknown to anyone, who may or may not actually exist, had changed them. 

If you examined these closely, you would immediately discover that the English usernames were different. But those strings of English letters were composed of words like president and support and had nothing to connect them to any individual. So you could make as many excuses as you wanted. 

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were examining the printouts. 

If you actually looked closely, you'd find some of the accounts listed were duplicates, and of course, there were a lot of anonymous ones, too. 

It was a bluff. 

But if it could get me through this day, this moment, it would be enough. 

Yuigahama put the printout she held on the desk and quietly reached for her cell phone. The gesture made me break out in a sudden cold sweat. Was she going to check online? 

But her hand stopped there. She seemed to abandon the idea, touching her phone before she slid her hand away again. 

The account names were still, in fact, as I had changed them. That was why even if she did confirm on the spot, it should show the same thing as these printouts. 

As long as the fake accounts had followers, this was a risky method. 

But because of the way Twitter works, if you're not posting, your account's tweets won't be displayed at the top of your followers' timelines. Since I hadn't made any tweets that day, the name change of the fake accounts would be unlikely to be seen by the followers. And the followers' timelines were always being updated, new posts piling up one after another. This would chase the tweets of these fake accounts down and down until they were hidden. 

Of course, some followers might notice that the current display names were different. But if I could pull the wool over their eyes for just this one day, after that, I would delete everything, accounts and all. Everything would disappear. 

There were two reasons for the existence of these fake accounts. 

The first was as evidence to make Iroha Isshiki interested in being president. 

Secondly, as a deterrence to Yukinoshita. It simply had to buy time, make her spend more resources to gather all her nominators, while also functioning as data indicating the possibility of Isshiki getting elected. And if I could stop Yukinoshita, then Yuigahama would also lose her motivation for announcing candidacy. 

"I see… There are over four hundred, aren't there…?" Yukinoshita muttered upon seeing the list. 

The total population of the school was 1,200. In other words, if there were three candidates, then via simple math, you would need more than four hundred votes to get elected. Based on that, Iroha Isshiki stood a chance. 

This was enough of an explanation. I gathered up the printouts, lining them up evenly on the desk, then put them in my bag. 

"Nothing's preventing Isshiki from becoming president now. So…" I looked at the two girls and said slowly, "There's no need for either of you to be president anymore." 

It had taken me quite a long time to get to this one trivial line. But this was my conclusion. Nobody would be hurt, nobody would be accused of wrongdoing, nobody would be blamed. The responsibility and the injury would disappear along with the account data. 

Yuigahama breathed a sigh. "What a relief… Then it's resolved…" Her shoulders relaxed, as if freed from her fatigue, and finally, she smiled. 

I relieved the tension in my own shoulders, rotating my neck. 

Then my eyes focused on…a single person. 

Yukino Yukinoshita was silent. 

Quiet, without making a single sound, like a well-made porcelain doll. Her eyes were translucent like glass or gemstones, and so cold. 

This should have been the Yukinoshita I knew: collected, quiet, calm, and refined, with conventionally beautiful looks. 

But now there was a fragility there, like if you were to touch her, she would disappear. 

"…I see," she said with a sigh, raising her head. But she wasn't looking at me or Yuigahama. "Then…the problem…and the reason for me to do anything…is gone, isn't it…?" She looked far away, out the window. 

"Yeah, that's what it means…" I followed her gaze but saw only the same scenery as ever. The setting sun, the clear void of the sky. But the barren trees were swaying sadly. 

"…Yes," Yukinoshita replied briefly, then gently lowered her face and closed her eyes as if sleeping. 

"You thought you had everything figured out, didn't you…?" 

Yukinoshita's remark wasn't directed at anyone. That gave it an empty ring, somehow. 

Those words stirred my heart. 

But she spoke as if expressing nostalgia for a distant past, as if mourning something that had ended, forbidding me from questioning it. 

Yukinoshita quietly got to her feet. "—I'll report to Miss Hiratsuka and Meguri." 

"W-we'll come, too." Yuigahama's chair scraped as she stood. 

But Yukinoshita stopped her with a calm smile. "I'll be fine on my own… If my explanation goes on long and I'm late coming back, you can leave without me. I'll return the key," she said and left the clubroom. 

Her attitude, and her smile at Yuigahama, shouldn't have been any different from usual. 

So then why was it that I was trying to find differences in it? 

There was another stirring of unease in my heart. Yukinoshita's remark wouldn't leave my ears. 

Then, for the first time, I figured it out. 

What if, for argument's sake…her real motive in running was something else? 

I remembered too late. 

Yukinoshita had known the details of the election protocol. I'd assumed that was a manifestation of her knowledgeability, her intelligence. 

Yukinoshita had said she didn't mind doing it. I'd assumed that, like with the cultural festival, this was a manifestation of her antagonism toward her sister, and her tendency to focus on one thing. 

But what if…? 

What if that had been what she really wanted? 

What if I'd been averting my eyes from her true intentions, hiding there among all the things she'd said? 

What if I'd interpreted the principles governing her conduct to my personal convenience and acted based on hopeful speculation? 

Some people can't do anything unless they're given a problem, unless they can find motivation to act. 

Some people will still feel conflicted, certain yet uncertain, and the uncertainty will prevent them from action. 

I understood that well. So then it wouldn't be surprising for other people to be like that, too. 

But in my mind, I had excluded Yukinoshita from that possibility. 

I didn't know what it was, actually. 

It's not as if we'd talked about it. Even if we had, I wouldn't get it. 

Just… 

All that remained was doubt—wondering if I had made some mistake. 

The setting sun was streaming into the clubroom. 

We waited for Yukinoshita, but it seemed her explanation was taking a while, just as she'd said it might. Though I didn't know if that was true. 

Only Yuigahama and I were in the clubroom now. 

A book I wasn't reading lay open in front of me, while Yuigahama was staring at her cell phone, fingers not moving. 

I glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was about time to go home. 

When my eyes returned from the clock, they met with Yuigahama's. 

She'd been looking at the clock, too. She opened her mouth. "Yukinon's late, huh…?" 

"…Yeah." With that short answer, I dropped my gaze to the book in my hands again. But I realized it was pointless, and I closed the book. 

I struggled to decide what to say. I scratched my head, then began. 

"…Um, sorry." 

"…Huh? Wh-why are you apologizing?" Startled, Yuigahama stiffened a little. 

"Oh, I mean, you put a lot of work into that stuff, right? I mean, like your campaign promises and writing your speech and stuff." 

"Oh, that…" Understanding, Yuigahama relaxed. "It's okay now." And then she smiled, her expression relieved. 

That was a bit of a weight off my chest. Her popularity and personality aside, she wasn't all that suited for the practical aspects of the role, but I thought she'd worked really hard. So I felt kind of bad for squashing her efforts. I breathed a little sigh. 

"You put a lot of work into stuff, too, didn't you, Hikki? Look, you haven't gotten your hair cut, and it's so scruffy," Yuigahama said, pointing to my head. Then she suddenly stood. "I'll fix it." 

"I'm fine." 

Yuigahama ignored my refusal, saying, "Now, now," as she circled around behind me. Her warm hands gently stroked my hair. I tried dodging them by shaking my head, but she held it in place. "You worked hard, too, huh, Hikki?" 

"Not really…" 

As we talked, at some point, her hands touching my hair stopped moving, and the back of my head was enveloped in a pressure like a kind embrace. Startled, I tensed up. If I were to move now, I'd increase the area of contact too much. That would be very uncomfortable. 

Unable to even twitch, I heard a soft voice in my ear. "This place is important to me, and you kept it safe." 

Her words were horribly kind, and so I closed my eyes. The faint warmth I felt coming gradually from her made me want to listen carefully.