Chương 56: Alliances in silence

Days passed quickly, and the class voting exam was drawing closer. The strategy was decided: we would save someone from expulsion using the 20 million points. Although there was still time, I knew that eventually, the day would come when everyone would have to face a reality they tried to avoid: letting someone go, even if it hurt. I hoped that, when the time came, they would be ready for it.

With the plan clear and nothing else to occupy myself with, I decided to take advantage of a weekend to meet someone who had somehow become very close lately. No, it wasn't Honami, as many might expect. It was Kikyou.

In recent days, Kikyou and I had developed a solid friendship, or at least that's what I believed. She had shared with me details of her turbulent past, revealing facets she didn't show to others. Her story surprised me, not so much because of what she had gone through, but because of the version of herself she wanted to become and how hard she worked to reach that goal. It was evident that she harbored a constant inner struggle to find her own worth.

For me, it was hard to understand her desire to be loved and admired, since I had grown up in an environment where attention simply flowed to me effortlessly. I didn't have that same longing, that need to be seen and recognized. But I understood that, for her, recognition wasn't a mere frivolity; it was a refuge from her own insecurities, an attempt to rebuild herself after tough times.

I suppose that all of that shapes who we are in our youth. Desires to belong, to be someone in the eyes of others. In the end, being young is exactly that: navigating between desires, insecurities, and an immaturity that pushes us to seek meaning in the gaze of others.

...

I finally arrived at our meeting place: a karaoke room. Not that Kikyou was passionate about singing; in fact, I don't think I've ever heard her sing a note. The reason was much more practical: the room was completely isolated and soundproof, preventing outside noise from distracting her. For Kikyou, that space was a refuge, a place where she could shut out everything. Although, paradoxically, she spent her time surrounded by people, deep down, she seemed to have a kind of aversion to constant company. Curious irony, isn't it?

Upon entering, Kikyou was already waiting for me, with her characteristic short hair framing a delicate face, though her expression was serious, or rather, completely expressionless.

"Hello, Kikyou."

"Hello, Kayden," she replied, with her usual emotionless tone.

"Did you need to talk about something?" I asked, curious. She was the one who had suggested we meet, and usually, that meant she had something important to tell me.

"Well, I wanted to talk," she said as she took a sip of her chocolate shake with whipped cream, her favorite… and mine too. I always found it interesting that someone with such a sharp character enjoyed something so sweet.

Shortly after, Kikyou began to talk. Well, more than talk, it was a series of complaints about the people she had to deal with in her daily life. This had become a kind of ritual between us. Every time we met, Kikyou vented her frustrations and thoughts with me, as if I were her personal psychologist. I didn't mind; in fact, listening to her allowed me to understand her better, discover new facets of her, and, in a way, strengthen our bond.

But not everything was about talking and venting. We had turned these meetings into a mix of activities: watching movies, going out to eat… Although, I must admit, my favorite moments were when she invited me to her room. There, in addition to listening to her, I had the pleasure of tasting her homemade food, which she prepared with surprising skill. It was curious to think that behind her cold appearance and calculating gaze, there was an incredible cook.

For me, listening to her was a small price to pay if it meant enjoying her dishes. Among her complaints, her occasional laughter, and her food, our meetings had become a haven of calm amid the tensions of the academy.

At this rate, Kikyou could become one of my best friends and, perhaps, someone really important in my life. It wasn't something romantic, at least not in the way others might imagine; I think it was more of a genuine friendship bond, a closeness based on a trust built little by little.

I wondered if time would bring us even closer in the future. I truly hoped so because, despite our differences and her complex personality, I liked Kikyou. She was unique in her way of seeing the world, and perhaps it was that authenticity that made our friendship, though unexpected, feel so real.

...

Apart from my meeting with Kikyou, the afternoon had been quite calm. Nothing out of the ordinary… until now.

It was 7 p.m. when I received some unexpected visitors. At my door stood two familiar figures: a robust boy with green hair and a blue-haired girl with a perpetually annoyed expression that I was already familiar with.

"What do I owe the pleasure of this unusual visit?" I asked, watching them curiously from the threshold.

"Can we talk to you, Osawa?" said the green-haired boy, Ichizaki, from Class D. His serious tone and the presence of Ibuki, the sharp-eyed girl, piqued my interest. I nodded and gestured for them to come in.

Once inside, I crossed my arms, waiting. "So? What do you want to talk to me about?"

Ichizaki cleared his throat and got straight to the point.

"I'll be direct. Osawa, please save Ryuuen."

I looked at him, raising an eyebrow, not hiding my surprise.

"Save Ryuuen? And why would I do something like that?" I replied, keeping a casual tone while analyzing what they were asking.

"We're not asking you to do it for free. We'll pay you." Although his voice tried to sound firm, there was a hint of nervousness in his tone.

I let out a brief laugh, incredulous. "I doubt you're in a financially favorable position to offer me a sum that would really make me consider saving Ryuuen."

Although they hadn't given me details, the situation was quite clear: the special exam was approaching, and the possibility of Ryuuen being expelled was imminent. He wasn't exactly the most beloved in his class, and I wouldn't be surprised if most of his classmates had pointed him out with criticism votes to get rid of him. However, the presence of Ichizaki and Ibuki seeking my help confirmed that no real rebellion had taken place in Class D to dethrone Ryuuen; someone outside the class had interfered to provoke his downfall. But who?

"We have a considerable amount to offer you," Ichizaki intervened, taking Ibuki's phone and showing me the balance of her account: five million points.

"So if I save Ryuuen, those five million are mine?" I asked, letting a slight smile show as I studied them.

"Yes, yes, we'll give it to you. Can you save him?" said Ichizaki, clearly anxious. I wondered if it had been Ibuki's idea to ask for my help, or if perhaps someone else had directed them to me. Either way, the situation was quite intriguing.

I nodded calmly. "I can do it."

Both seemed to relax instantly, as if they had just lifted a huge weight off their shoulders. However, something was evident in their expressions and the way they were handling this situation: neither Ichizaki nor Ibuki would have thought to come to me on their own. Someone else had planted the idea in their minds.

Could it have been someone outside their class? Or perhaps Ryuuen himself? After all, in Class D, only he would have the means to gather those five million. And if that was the case, it would mean that Ryuuen still had some influence, even after the supposed "rebellion" that had left him in this vulnerable position.

But honestly, I didn't care much who was behind this request. In the end, they needed my help, and they were willing to pay me well for it. That was all that mattered. Accepting the deal wouldn't only bring me personal benefits, but it could also give me a better insight into how the power dynamics in Class D were evolving.

And as for Ryuuen… whether he was at the school or not, my class would remain unmovable. This offer was simply another transaction in a game that was already decided.