“No…
this can’t be happening…
I was framed!”
Yamauchi Haruki’s desperate, tearing wails echoed down the corridor, growing fainter by the second.
Two upperclassmen from the Student Council had already marched into the room, gripping him by the arms and dragging his thrashing body out the door without an ounce of pity.
Kaedehara Tetsu casually picked up his phone from the desk, slipping it into his pocket.
“When all is said and done, I suppose I should thank the Student Council President for his swift judgment.”
“There is no need for thanks,” Horikita Manabu replied, his posture perfectly straight behind his desk.
“I am simply handling the case with absolute impartiality.”
“Well…
let’s not pretend.” Tetsu offered a faint, knowing smile.
“You clearly saw there was a problem from the very beginning.
Otherwise, you wouldn’t have given Kamuro a chance to defend herself.”
The air inside the Student Council office seemed to freeze over.
“Giving Kamuro a chance?” Manabu finally spoke, his voice dropping a fraction of an inch.
“Your observation skills are sharp, Kaedehara, but your conclusion is entirely too subjective.
The duty of the Student Council is to ascertain the facts and uphold the school rules.
Before a final verdict is reached, both parties possess the fundamental right to defend themselves.
What you call a ‘chance’ is merely standard procedure.”
Manabu paused, locking his sharp behind-glasses gaze directly onto Tetsu’s relaxed face.
“As for the disciplinary action taken against Yamauchi,” Manabu continued, his tone carrying the weight of absolute authority, “the reason it resulted in immediate expulsion is because his transgression strikes at the very foundation of this institution.
A false accusation, constructed through deliberately forged evidence, is essentially an attempt to destroy the school’s operational system.
The nature of this behavior is far more malignant than simple violence or petty theft.
It must be eradicated with the most severe measures available to serve as a definitive warning to the rest of the student body.”
His words were logically airtight, utterly impeccable.
Manabu positioned himself as the flawless, impartial arbiter, reframing everything that had just transpired as a strict necessity of procedure rather than a calculated maneuver.
The smile on Tetsu’s face didn’t waver.
Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hands and clapped.
The soft, rhythmic sound echoed loudly in the tense silence of the room.
“I see.
As expected of the Student Council President, your considerations are remarkably thorough.
Elevating a petty squabble to a matter of upholding the school system, then applying thunderous measures to crush it…
Not only do you eliminate an unstable element, but you also re-establish the absolute majesty of the Student Council in front of everyone.
Truly brilliant.”
His praise sounded dripping with sincerity, yet every single word peeled back the high-sounding rhetoric to expose the raw political intent hiding beneath Manabu’s pristine surface.
Standing off to the side, Tachibana Akane snapped her head up, casting a deeply shocked glance at the first-year student.
In the entire history of her time at this school, no one had ever dared to speak to Horikita Manabu in such a blatantly teasing tone.
“It seems you are not merely a student who excels at debating.” Manabu’s voice remained a calm, unreadable flatline.
“With someone like you operating in Class A, perhaps the future of this school will become even more terrifying than I initially anticipated.”
“It is my distinct honor to meet the Student Council President’s high expectations.” Tetsu straightened his collar, his amusement clear.
“Well then, since this trivial matter is resolved, I won’t disturb your official duties any longer.”
He turned and walked toward the exit.
Just as his hand wrapped around the cold metal of the doorknob, his movements paused.
He glanced back over his shoulder.
“By the way, if there are any similar matters that require your ‘impartial handling’ in the future, I would be more than happy to offer my assistance.
After all, for the continued honor of Class A, I—as a perfectly ordinary student—should always do my part, shouldn’t I?”
Without waiting for Manabu to formulate a response, Tetsu pulled the door open, stepped out into the hallway, and gently clicked it shut behind him.
The office sank back into a heavy, suffocating silence.
After a long while, Tachibana finally found her voice.
this Kaedehara…”
Manabu leaned back slowly against his leather chair, his slender fingers tapping an unconscious, rhythmic beat against the polished wood of his desk.
“Tachibana.
Keep a very close eye on his movements from now on.”
The window at the far end of the corridor was propped wide open.
The cold, biting evening wind swept through the glass, cutting through Kamuro Masumi’s uniform and making her slender frame shiver.
It was over.
She had actually been saved.
“I thought you would just cry and go hide somewhere in the dark.”
Kamuro flinched, slowly lifting her head.
Her beautiful, purplish-gray eyes locked onto Tetsu as he approached her through the dimming light of the hallway.
“…Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
“Your phone…
that video…
why couldn’t the school find anything on it?”
She wasn’t a fool.
A seamless false accusation, relying purely on a few verbal arguments about “editing traces,” could never have pushed a man like Horikita Manabu to issue a final, irreversible verdict of expulsion.
The final straw that had utterly crushed Yamauchi was the technical department’s investigation of Tetsu’s phone.
The report had come back unbelievably, impossibly clean.
“Kamuro, are you seriously interrogating your savior right now?
How heartbreaking.” Tetsu exaggeratedly clutched a hand over his chest, though his dark eyes danced with amusement, utterly devoid of any real hurt.
Realizing her impropriety, Kamuro panicked, waving her hands defensively as she struggled to find the right words.
“Alright, relax.
It wouldn’t hurt to tell you.”
Seeing her flustered expression, Tetsu dropped the joke and shrugged casually.
He couldn’t exactly tell her about the hidden account he had purchased from the System store, but he had prepared a perfectly reasonable, grounded explanation.
“Do you remember what Mashima-sensei told us on the first day?
In this school, Private Points can buy absolutely anything, so long as it doesn’t directly damage the institution’s reputation.”
He paused, letting the silence stretch for a beat before continuing.
“I happen to know a senior who works in the school’s technical department.
We were schoolmates before coming here, and we kept in touch.
Making a specific chunk of mobile phone data ‘reasonably’ disappear during an official investigation isn’t a problem for someone with the right access.”
“However…” Tetsu tilted his head.
“Do you have any idea how many points it takes to convince a senior to take that kind of risk?”
Kamuro swallowed hard.
“Two hundred thousand.
I had to beg quite a few people to scrape that amount together on such short notice.”
“Two…
two hundred thousand points?!” Kamuro gasped, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief.
That number was astronomical.
It was the equivalent of what the school issued to an ordinary student over two entire months.
And he had spent it on her?
Someone who barely interacted with him?
Someone who had an active record of theft?
He was actually willing to pay such a massive price?
“Are…
are you crazy?” she stammered, her defensive walls crumbling.
“Spending two hundred thousand points…
just for me?”
“Who said it was for you?”
Tetsu’s eyes gleamed with a sudden, sharp cunning.
Your salvation can only be called a happy coincidence.”
He stepped forward.
The casual distance between them vanished in an instant as he leaned his body slightly toward her, closing the gap to less than half a meter.
Kamuro’s back hit the wall.
He lowered his voice, the dark, magnetic timber of it vibrating in the quiet corridor.
His warm breath brushed against the shell of her ear, sending a sudden spike of electricity down her spine.
“And besides…
Kamuro, don’t you think that compared to a few points, some things are far more interesting?”
Kamuro’s heart skipped a violent beat.
She subconsciously held her breath, trapped by his proximity and the heavy, intoxicating tension radiating from him.
“After Yamauchi gave me that video, I watched it repeatedly,” Tetsu murmured, his gaze tracing the side of her face.
“And I discovered a very fascinating phenomenon.
Although Yamauchi’s methods were incredibly clumsy, and the editing traces were blatantly obvious…
but…”
His voice trailed off into a dangerous whisper.
“…It didn’t look like acting.
Those subtle, nervous twitches in your hands.
That split-second moment of pure, adrenaline-fueled relaxation after you succeeded…
it was just too real.”
Kamuro’s mind went entirely blank.
The blood drained from her face.
He knew.
He had known from the very beginning.
He hadn’t deduced she was innocent by analyzing the technical flaws in the video.
On the contrary—he had seen the absolute truth of her crime bleeding through Yamauchi’s clumsy edits.
“No…
I didn’t…” she instinctively tried to deny it, but her throat tightened, reducing her voice to a weak, pathetic whisper she could barely hear herself.
“Look at you.
You’re nervous again.”
Tetsu reached out.
His hand brushed past her hair, and he lightly, almost affectionately, tapped her forehead with his index finger.
“I have a terrible memory, you see.
Especially when it comes to insignificant trifles.
The only thing I remember from today is that a Class D student named Yamauchi Haruki was expelled for maliciously framing a girl from our Class A.”
He pulled back, his hands returning to his pockets as he looked down at her with a calm, unreadable expression.
“As for whether anyone actually stole anything…
who cares?
At least, according to the school’s official records, you are completely innocent.
Aren’t you?”
Kamuro could only stare at him, paralyzed.
“You are free now.”
Tetsu didn’t say another word.
He turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing rhythmically down the empty corridor, leaving her alone in the twilight.
Slowly, the violent trembling in Kamuro’s body began to subside.
She raised her head, her purplish-gray eyes fixed on the spot where Tetsu had disappeared around the corner.
The deep, agonizing confusion that had clouded her gaze for so long had quietly melted away, replaced by something entirely new.
Because from today onward, her chaotic, aimless life seemed to have finally found a sense of belonging.
[Inorin’s Note:
Hey guys, hope you’re enjoying the novel!
Hate waiting for updates and cliffhangers?