— So, big brother, how was your trip to Kyoto? — Komachi leaned forward keenly, shamelessly stealing an octopus-shaped sausage from my plate.
— Nothing interesting, — I yawned, lazily poking at the hard-boiled yolk with my chopsticks. — We arrived, walked around, then I managed to get drunk with my teacher, spent an unforgettable night in the nearest hotel, and then suffered from a hangover for twenty-four hours.
After mentally reviewing the possible ramifications, I pushed my plate aside. I had absolutely no appetite.
— On the third day, I just wandered through souvenir shops. In short: utterly boring, not worth the wasted time, — I looked up and raised an eyebrow. — Is something wrong?
My sister was looking at me with palpable shock in her eyes.
— Please repeat what you just said? — clearing her throat into her fist, the girl put her cutlery down on the table. — I think I'm having auditory hallucinations.
— On the third day...
— Before that!
I scratched my cheek, mentally smirking, pleased with the reaction I got.
— Are you referring to the part where I spent the whole evening drinking beer with Hiratsuka-sensei and, as a result, spent the night alone with her? — There must be a sadist hidden within me, because watching the storm of emotions on Komachi's face gave me an unparalleled sense of satisfaction. Do I really enjoy shocking people that much?
— Wait...
Komachi moved back, got up from her chair, and walked over to me, placing a cool palm on my forehead.
— Doesn't seem like you have a fever, pupils aren't dilated... When was the last time you checked your pulse? — I watched, barely concealing a half-smile, as she tried to feel for my wrist. — Did you take any weird pills from strangers?
— Only strange little blue crystals. A weird guy in a leather trench coat handed them to me, said they were lollipops, and I needed to suck on them, — honestly, I wanted to burst out laughing, but I held back the urge, as the whole scheme would lose its point otherwise.
— You're joking, right? — my sister tensed up.
I looked at her, putting on the most serious expression possible.
— Big brother, don't scare me, — she grabbed me by the shoulders.
For added effect, I stayed silent for another moment, and when Komachi was about to break down, I finally allowed myself to laugh.
— Just kidding, just kidding, — I ruffled her hair. — Who do you take me for?
— For an idi...
— I didn't take any crystals, — that was a beautiful combo.
The schoolgirl choked on her breath, cutting off her sentence. Giving her time to recover, I waited for the logical question:
— So, you really got drunk with your teacher?
I nodded.
— And then... the night...
I nodded again.
Komachi released me, silently turned around, and returned to her seat as if nothing had happened.
A second later, she smashed her forehead into the table with force, making the dishes jump and loudly clatter.
— That's cruel, big brother! That! Is! Cruel! — the girl suddenly wailed, banging her fists on the surface. — Why are you tormenting me like this?
Um...
— Are you jealous? — In the same instant, I skillfully dodged, letting the thrown chopstick fly past me.
— You! — My sister sprang up, pointing an accusing finger at me. — You-u-u!...
In principle, her behavior might have unnerved me, if not scared me, but the scarlet spot swelling in the middle of her forehead completely ruined the dramatic effect, making me want to burst out laughing again.
Score one more point for my side in the unquestionable vi...
— Did you at least use protection? — Komachi finished unexpectedly calmly.
...The sound of water dripping from the faucet seemed unusually loud in the ensuing dead silence.
— One-one? — my darling smiled smugly.
I slowly massaged the bridge of my nose with two fingers.
— One-one, — I admitted resignedly, realizing once again that my sister had managed to pick up some of my not-so-great character traits from an outsider's point of view.
But!
Kami, why am I so proud of her skillful "attack"?
It must be my sister complex, definitely.
***
— Hikigaya, I see you weren't exactly in a rush.
Closing the door behind me, I sighed and took my usual spot in the armchair near the teacher's desk.
— I followed the wording: "stop by when you can." Next time, phrase your request more clearly, — I threw my bag down at my feet, leaned back comfortably, crossing one leg over the other.
Hiratsuka exhaled smoke through her nostrils and measured me with a heavy gaze.
— Looks like someone's gotten awfully cocky, — the woman flicked her cigarette into the ashtray. — Been a while since you got a good thrashing?
— The use of physical violence has, I believe, been removed from teaching methodology, — I replied lethargically, not entirely sure why she had pulled me out of class.
Especially considering that since the events in Kyoto, Sensei had been carefully avoiding me, refusing any one-on-one contact. Well, if you disregard the moment of our shared awakening in her room the morning after the drinking session. Although, to be honest, Shizuka was clearly not in the most sober state of mind then, as was I.
One might think that the reason for such behavior could be events of a truly "interesting" nature—the kind teenagers dream about in the throes of puberty. Something like: we got drunk and then slept together! Or another scenario: after a night spent shyly avoiding each other and innocently blushing while holding hands in the same bed, our relationship reached a new level. Or any other plot point so popular in light novels or manga.
But my life is reality, where the legendary "youth" smells like cheap air freshener in a station restroom.
Therefore, the events after the drinking session can be summarized in one sentence: we crawled to the first available room—luckily, Hiratsuka's was the closest—collapsed onto the nearest soft surface, and passed out.
That's it.
Where's the romance? Where's the time for drunk mistakes and regrets mixed with new experience?
Why do characters in various stories commit actions while drunk that they remember for the rest of their lives, while I simply... got drunk and suffered a hangover? Furthermore, the question is: where was my vaunted composure? It seems like in all those stories, the characters woke up fresh as a daisy.
Although, if I think about it, I was like a pickle too.
Lightly salted.
— Unfortunately, only that method works with certain individuals, — the teacher stubbed out her cigarette, sighed, and propped her head on her fist. — How are things in the Club?
So, we'll start with a random topic?
Fine.
— Not exactly good, but I can't say they're bad either. Nothing's happening, — I shrugged, telling the absolute truth.
Currently, absolutely nothing was going on. No visitors with strange requests, no crazy suggestions from Doggy. Even Snowball, as if infected with a virus of friendliness, stopped hassling me and deliberately nitpicking every word. It's like we became friends. Or she finally gave up on her attempts to win our verbal battles.
The latter option seems more realistic.
— I see. What about the class? — Do we really have to beat around the bush, Sensei? We both know perfectly well that you called me here with a strictly defined purpose, so why all these backstage pirouettes of a ballet dancer on a wet floor?
— Are you concerned about my academic performance? — I asked with a small hint of sarcasm in my voice.
— I'm talking about your relationships with your classmates, — the woman frowned.
I snickered.
— Were they supposed to have miraculously changed?
— It seemed to me you established connections with Miura, Ebina, and a couple of other people.
— I didn't realize you paid such close attention to my person, — I curled my lips into a semblance of a smile. — Be careful, or I might get silly assumptions and expectations.
Shizuka's lower eyelid twitched almost imperceptibly.
— Hikigaya, do you absolutely have to be sarcastic at every opportunity?
— It's vitally necessary, or I risk dying, suffocating from an excess of poison in my system.
— Kami... — Hiratsuka shook her head, covering her eyes with her palm. — I dread to imagine what kind of wife you'd need to endure such a "wonderful personality."
— Cast away your doubts, my heart belongs only to you and no one else, so start getting used to it, — however, one of the advantages of the drinking session was that now, in a private conversation, I could allow myself much more than before.
— Idiot, — Sensei exhaled. — Fine, it's my own fault...
Pausing slightly and apparently collecting her thoughts, the teacher cleared her throat and straightened up.
— Hikigaya, I think you understand perfectly well that I didn't call you here for no reason.
— I guessed as much, — I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling an unpleasant prickling sensation in the soft part of my body, as Shizuka's sharply changed tone did not bode well.
— Tell me, do you know what's going to happen soon?
I pondered, trying to recall anything relatively important.
Nothing came to mind.
— Of course. And why am I not surprised? — Hiratsuka smirked, looking at me with an extremely strange expression.
The tension in my rear end continued to build.
— Sensei, maybe you shouldn't drag this out and just tell me what you want from me? Let me remind you, my hand and heart already belong to you and are non-refundable.
— Very funny, — the teacher replied dryly. — However, you have a point. I'll be brief...
And again, silence.
I hate dramatic pauses; they are usually followed by something that makes you want to curse loudly.
— Hikigaya, I propose that you put forward your candidacy for Student Council President! — Hiratsuka solemnly declared.
I blinked slowly.
I ran her phrase through my head several times.
It didn't help.
— Is something wrong? — the woman raised an eyebrow.
Exhaling loudly, I closed my eyes, massaging the bridge of my nose.
...How can I express myself politely enough to make it clear?
— Sensei, are you out of your mind?
Seeing her expression, I realized I had gone a bit too far.
Gotta smooth it out—I mean, finish the job!
— I knew that the moment I found myself in the same bed as a woman, she would immediately start demanding something impossible and wildly irritating, — for good measure, I clicked my tongue in disappointment.
To my surprise, Hiratsuka didn't get angry at the last part of my impromptu speech, didn't throw an object, but instead, calmed down and smirked.
— After everything that happened between us, I expected such a trifle would be no trouble for you, — she wiped away an invisible tear. — And you just used me once and tossed me aside. Hachiman, I gave you my most cherished possession...
For a second, I imagined someone standing behind the door, eavesdropping.
I even turned to check.
Nobody seemed to be there.
— And what cherished thing did I take from you? — I lowered my voice, returning my attention to Sensei. — Are you perhaps still...
— How could you, Hachiman? I hadn't shared this with anyone yet, I truly believed that time spent together in Kyoto meant something to you! — Shizuka lamented, skillfully playing the role. — My secret spot! My favorite ramen! How could you forget?!
Unable to hold back, I laughed, appreciating the teacher's retort, which perfectly caught me in my own game.
So, one-one.
Waiting for me to catch my breath, Shizuka, still smiling, said:
— By the way, jokes aside, I was perfectly serious about the position of president.
— My reaction was also completely genuine, — I shrugged my shoulders from side to side.
— What's the big deal? You've already served as a leader, even if it was just the advertising department. And you succeeded in that role. Why not aim for something more significant?
I met her gaze.
— Sensei, with all due respect, — the events of the last Cultural Festival involuntarily flashed through my mind. — Just because I tried myself in a new role doesn't mean I enjoyed it.
— That's strange. Your leadership skills are quite adequate. Plus, it's a good bonus for your future résumé, — oddly, Shizuka continues to press me, even though I think I expressed my position quite clearly.
— I doubt a stay-at-home husband needs such a useful skill, — I tried to joke it off, but judging by the teacher's expression, it didn't work this time.
— Fine, — apparently, she decided to back down.
I wonder, for how long?
— Then you are free to go, — she waved her hand, as if shooing me away.
— And you won't even tell me why you made such an unusual proposal? — I tilted my head.
— You'll find out at the Club meeting, — Shizuka snickered, taking a fresh cigarette from the pack. — Now get out of here and let me come to terms with the emotional trauma you inflicted on me. Traitor.
Snorting, I got up from my seat, picking up my bag from the floor.
However, leaving the last word to her was beyond my capabilities.
— If only you knew how often I regretted that that evening ended the way it did... — Thankfully, I said this already in the doorway and managed to close the door just as a textbook came flying through it, thrown by Hiratsuka.
A Club meeting, huh?
And when did the feeling of impending trouble become so familiar to me?
***
From an observer's perspective, can I consider myself the protagonist of a gloomy romantic comedy?
Well.
I'm constantly in the company of girls—that's one.
I'm getting attention from an attractive teacher, who often forgets the boundaries between us, considering that drinking session. Two? Two.
All the action takes place within the school walls during the peak of the period which everyone unthinkingly calls the "blooming season of youth." We'll take that as the third element.
Is there a rival on the horizon? Well, Hayato fits the bill, albeit loosely.
There are also supporting characters who pop up at the most inconvenient moments—Haruno, for example. And we definitely can't forget about such a brilliant trope as "she used to think he was a nobody, but upon getting to know him, she appreciated his inner qualities." I hope Miura doesn't mind that label.
And I'm leaving out the beach episode, the Cultural Festival, the trip to the fireworks with girls dressed in yukata, and... what else?
In total, the number of coincidences clearly exceeds all acceptable limits, so I have every right to jump up and yell at the top of my lungs: "Bingo!"
Too bad there are witnesses nearby who clearly wouldn't understand such a performance on my part, so I'll have to restrain the urge.
— By the way, Hachiman, did Hiratsuka-sensei call you in for a talk too? — Snowball unexpectedly asked, without looking up from laying out her tarot cards. What method Yui used to get her friend hooked on fortune-telling is a complete mystery to me, but nonetheless, the fact remains.
Yukino Yukinoshita, a proud individual with an inflated ego and a host of hang-ups ready to attack any outwardly hostile person, was sitting at the table and... trying to find out her destiny from colorful cards.
Did it look absurd?
Absolutely.
— She did, — I replied, trying not to slide onto the floor. A wild thought even crept into my mind to get a second chair and build a makeshift lounging area.
But again—they wouldn't understand.
— And what did she talk to you about? — Yukino asked casually, throwing a sideways glance at me.
— My impending expulsion, — I snorted, covering my eyes with my hand.
— What?! — Doggy immediately sprang up, having been fully immersed in the tarot card reading book moments before. — What expulsion?
— Yui, he's joking, — Yukinoshita sighed.
— Phew... oh, I mean, I totally knew that myself! — Yui stumbled, and I'd bet a hundred yen that she started flailing her arms about in the process.
She had a funny habit of accompanying overly emotional speeches with excessive gestures.
— I'll take your word for it, — I raised the corners of my lips.
— Seriously though, what were you discussing with the teacher? — Yukino continued to pry. Was this such a personal matter?
Although, knowing Shizuka, she could have very well tried to burden Snowball with the same problem she presented to me.
However, that didn't stop me from habitually sidestepping a direct answer. And not out of natural malice.
Purely as a preventive measure.
— The arrangements for our future wedding, — thanks to my ability to talk nonsense with a poker face, an absolutely irreplaceable skill in such cases.
— Hachiman, — hmm, so close, so close, but you don't quite measure up to Hiratsuka, Snowball.
Only she can still convey the entire spectrum of emotions she feels through my name alone.
— I know, my parents have excellent taste.
— Can you answer without your usual theatrics?
The second time in a couple of hours.
The second time I've been asked the exact same thing!
Yes, in different wordings, but the meaning remains.
— And how do you imagine that? I haven't taken any vows, so I'm not bound by a vow of silence, — I yawned loudly, not at all embarrassed by the girls.
— I pity your future wife, — Yukino snorted.
And again, the feeling of déjà vu. Only it seems to have become so cyclical that I'm already losing count.
— I'll be sure to pass that on to Haruno. She'll be happy to know you're worried about her, — judging by the sound, Snowball choked.
— Um, you said you were discussing the future wedding plans with Shizuka-sensei, — Yui-chan, sometimes you amaze me. It sounds genuine, but considering the overall situation, her phrase looks like an incredibly elegant jab.
However...
— I was discussing it. But I didn't say the bride would be her, — I raised my hand, looking at my classmate with a teasing eye. — After all, she and Haruno are good friends. And who better than a friend to give valuable advice about the upcoming ceremony?
The girls exchanged glances.
— He's joking now, right? — Yuigahama smiled nervously.
— Most likely, — hey, why the uncertainty in your voice, Yukino?
Who do you take me for?
Oh, right...
At that moment, the club door slid open with a noise, cutting short my scathing remark, which I had just begun to formulate in my head.
— Here we are! — I was not at all surprised by Hiratsuka's appearance, who smiled radiantly at the sight of our company. Probably because she warned me beforehand?
I reluctantly sat up, stopping my jellyfish impersonation.
Hmm, maybe I should have passed on her words to Yui and Yukino so Sensei's arrival wouldn't be a surprise for them?
No, no, that sounds like nonsense.
Wait, "we"?
— Hello everyone! — A petite girl with light brown hair, somewhat resembling Yuigahama, darted out from behind Shizuka. At least, that was the initial impression.
— Iroha? — Yui was surprised. So they know each other. — What are you doing here?
— Hehe, well, a necessity arose, — the schoolgirl smiled.
I definitely don't like her gaze. There's something in it that makes me want to tell her to get lost right away. My gut feeling was practically screaming: "Trouble!"
— Isshiki, don't rush, — Hiratsuka restrained her. — Some of the people present here are extremely suspicious of strangers.
And why are you looking specifically at me? Are you implying that Snowball is thrilled about the guest?
It was hard to tell anything from Yukino's expression; she looked completely indifferent to what was happening. However, the clenched fist under the table suggested otherwise. Was she also aware of the harbinger of a headache the teacher had brought?
— Are you talking about Senpai? — Iroha tilted her head, staring at me without any embarrassment. — I think he's a wonderful person!
Dead silence hung in the Club room.
Iroha, noticing this, laughed awkwardly.
— Why are you reacting like that? Did I say something wrong? — She looked at everyone present in turn.
— No, no, — Yuigahama swallowed, avoiding her gaze. — Everything is fine, it's just...
— It's just that if Hikigaya is a wonderful person, then I'm afraid there's nothing left that can save the world as we know it, — thank you for the kind words of support, Snowball, I won't forget your efforts.
— What do you mean? — Isshiki was genuinely surprised. — I'm only familiar with Senpai through rumors, of course, but as the saying goes, they don't appear out of nowhere, so...
— What rumors? — I cut her off mid-sentence, raising an eyebrow.
Is there something I don't know?
— Well, come on, — the girl smiled radiantly, moving so close to me that my nose caught the faint scent of cinnamon. Interesting choice of perfume. — Hasn't Senpai heard what people are saying about him?
Ignoring her remark, I turned my head sideways, staring intently at Doggy.
My classmate pretended to be extremely interested in the number of cracks on the ceiling.
Got it.
The source has been found.
I made a mental note about the need to carry out disciplinary work with a certain individual.
— So what kind of rumors are circulating about me? — I switched my focus back to Iroha.
— Are you sure your self-esteem can handle such a blow? — Yukino, darling, can't you just stay out of it? Or has your pride been hurt because, for the first time in my memory, someone completely ignored your presence?
— Don't worry, I have a good psychotherapist for such occasions, — I allowed myself a slight smirk.
Yukinoshita shuddered.
Shizuka had raised her hand, apparently intending to quickly unload the problem on us and leave, but her protégé didn't notice.
— Senpai, are you interested or not? — Isshiki pouted, displeased that I had stopped paying attention to her.
The question is: is this her inferiority complex acting up, or has she managed to cultivate a new kind of hang-up in her head?
— Interesting, interesting, — I sighed. — Just get started.
— Weeell... — the girl placed her index finger on her lips. — Firstly, you stole Miura from Hayato...
I blinked.
I did what, I'm sorry?
I resisted the urge to demonstratively clean my ears with my finger. It's rude in public, after all.
But the whole statement reeked of outright lunatic nonsense.
— Secondly, despite your unsociable appearance, you actually know how to win women's hearts, even across an age difference, — Iroha continued unfazed.
Hiratsuka coughed behind her, looking anywhere but in my direction.
Sensei, if you don't want to be misunderstood, try to avoid ambiguous reactions to such words.
However, I'm sure the person standing in front of me is talking about Haruno, whose connection with me became public knowledge during the Cultural Festival organization.
— And, thirdly, you actually avoid people because someone broke your heart in the past, and now you are wary of forming close relationships with anyone! — the girl concluded proudly, tilting up her nose.
I leaned down, hid my face in my hands, and exhaled silently.
The desire to stand up and... leave this room was burning inside me.
— Ahem, let me remind you that we are not here to discuss Hikigaya's romantic endeavors, — oh, yes, Teacher, there was no better way to regain control of the conversation.
Go on, dance on my lifeless body.
— Can we finally get down to business? — Snowball crossed her arms under her chest.
You didn't feel like voicing your strong "feh" earlier?
Well, fine, it was my own fault for bringing up the topic of rumors. I knew I wouldn't hear anything good.
— Oops! — Isshiki snapped out of it. — Right! I didn't come here for nothing. Honestly, Senpai, one look at you and all my thoughts fly out of my head!
My lower eyelid twitched betrayingly, fortunately, no one could see my face.
I hadn't heard such crude and contrived coquettishness, bordering on insult, directed at me in a long time.
— So, did something happen? — Yuigahama, having stopped staring hypnotically at the ceiling, joined the conversation.
— Well, you could say that... — Iroha hid her hands behind her back, casting a quick glance towards Hiratsuka.
Sensei, understanding her hint, scanned us with her eyes.
— As you know, the Student Council presidential election will be held soon, — at these words, Yukinoshita frowned.
Does that mean she was also asked to put forward her candidacy?
Then...
The pieces of the puzzle easily fell into place.
The conversation with Shizuka, the strange request, and the appearance of a brazen first-year accompanied by the teacher at our club door. I'm not good at math, but putting two and two together is not difficult.
Nor is the final verdict, which I already wanted to loudly announce.
However, experience tells me that before intervening, it's worth getting acquainted with the context of the situation to avoid awkward moments.
— In principle, all preparations are almost complete, so all that remains is to hold the election itself with the candidates' presentations, — I understand everything perfectly, but please, let's get to the crux of the problem.
Hiratsuka, noticing my gaze, unhappily twitched the corner of her lips.
— However, there is a small hitch, — Sensei paused again, then quietly sighed: — More precisely, a huge one.
She looked around at everyone.
— We have no candidates.
— Except for me, — Isshiki interjected, smiling guiltily. — And I, in turn, absolutely do not want to do this.
— Then why did you submit an application? — Yukinoshita raised an eyebrow.
— I didn't submit one, — Iroha shrugged carelessly. — I was framed.
— What do you mean? — Yui's eyes widened.
The first-year hesitated for a couple of moments, then answered:
— My classmates nominated me without my knowledge, gathering the necessary number of signatures.
— And how was that allowed? — Disbelief oozed from Snowball's voice.
— The fault lies entirely with the current Student Council, problems with live paperwork, — Shizuka snickered.
Or perhaps they just relied on chance, because, judging by Sensei's words, there aren't too many people eager to take the position of president.
— In that case, let them annul the application, — I suggested, propping my head with my fist.
— The edict has already been passed, — the woman turned to me.
— So what? — I didn't hide the mockery in my voice. — "Oh, no, we made a mistake, but so as not to lose our precious reputation, we'll pretend it was all planned"?
My attempt at a squeaky voice was mediocre, but I think they got the main message.
— Hikigaya, you should know the complexity of document management in events, especially those of this scale, — Shizuka grimaced.
— What scale? Local elections for which people are lining up to participate? — I gasped dramatically. — Wait, hold on...
Stopping my antics, I finished in a dry tone:
— We have no candidates. Or do you think this precedent will serve as an excellent example for students, where they will personally experience the mercilessness of the system, using human resources to cover up their mistakes?
— Something like that would negatively affect the school's reputation, especially among its sponsors, — Sensei countered. — You wouldn't dispute the fact that external financial contributions influence the creation of a comfortable living environment for students?
I could only shake my head negatively.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Yuigahama's vacant look, unable to process the received information.
Yukinoshita's expression, in turn, showed no external changes, but poorly suppressed irritation was clearly visible in her gaze. The question is: is she angry at the situation itself, or the fact that the problem has not yet been fully articulated?
— The bottom line is this: the Student Council presidential election is imminent, there is only one candidate, who was chosen illegitimately through outside manipulation, and she, — I looked at Isshiki, — does not express the slightest desire to participate. Is that correct?
— Uh-huh, — Iroha nodded. — I'll add right away: there's no possibility to refuse, otherwise... Well, what will people think of me? Especially since my homeroom teacher found out about it and broadcasted it everywhere. I definitely won't be able to study for another two years with such shame!
— Change district and school. Nothing difficult, — In the very next second, all the girls in the room looked at me.
— Hikigaya! — Hiratsuka and Yukinoshita said in unison.
— Hachiman, you can't say that!
— Senpai, why are you so cruel? Such rudeness will make everyone stop loving you! — Isshiki stomped her foot.
— Really? — I let out a short laugh. — Sensei, do we have a loudspeaker? I have a wonderful idea.
— Cursing on school grounds is forbidden, Hikigaya, — the teacher growled.
I clicked my tongue in displeasure.
Another brilliant plan died in the cradle. What a shame.
— Leaving aside the extremely relevant remarks of one not-so-smart student, — Hey, I may be stupid, but I'm incredibly charismatic and handsome! — Do you have any thoughts on solving the problem?
Shizuka's gaze was primarily directed at Doggy and Snowball.
Kami, it seems I've been deprived of the right to speak!
What a horror!
...I wonder if I can now pack up and leave, leaving the headache to someone else?
— Mmm... — Yuigahama pursed her lips, wrinkling her forehead. — We just need new candidates, right?
Oh.
Setting aside the irony, the option Yuigahama voiced is the only sensible one, from a logical point of view.
However, the girl interpreted the ensuing silence differently.
— I-I mean, in that case, well, if Iroha loses the election race, it... well, it won't damage her reputation as much as if she withdrew her candidacy herself.
— Yuigahama is completely right, — Yukino supported her friend. — It's definitely better than if Isshiki were removed by a vote of no confidence, or forced to become president against her will.
— But there are no other participants! — the first-year exclaimed.
— Then our task is to find them, — Snowball replied calmly. — I highly doubt there isn't a person in our school who would be even slightly interested in the position under discussion.
— I don't see any, — Iroha puffed up.
— That's because not everyone is willing to stick their neck out on sheer initiative, — I noted sarcastically. — Since, right now, I don't see any advantages at all in becoming president, excluding extra responsibility, additional workload, and the risk of developing scoliosis from sitting too long with documents.
— Positive reputation, Hikigaya. I know that phrase is foreign to you, but for normal people, it plays a decisive role in some cases, — Yukinoshita noted coldly.
— And, as I told you earlier, it will increase your chances of getting into university. Or do you think a recommendation from the school means nothing? — Hiratsuka joined her.
— In addition... — Yuigahama raised a finger and froze. Then, clearing her throat, she returned to her place.
— Is something wrong? — Yukino asked with a hint of concern in her voice.
— Nothing, — Doggy shot me a strange look. — I just wanted to say that thanks to this, you'll participate in a bunch of fun events, but...
Hiratsuka and Snowball nodded knowingly.
— For Hikigaya, that would be a drawback...
— There's no point even arguing.
I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to slap my hand against my face.
— And what do I have to do with it? — Mentally spitting, I snapped my fingers in the air. — My personal preferences don't matter. Either you or Isshiki try to generate interest, or focus on what will attract a potential candidate from among the students.
I appreciate the attention, no argument there.
However, right now I just want to quickly shut down the commotion and go home.
— And I think we already have an excellent option for the future president, — Following my gaze, Iroha and Hiratsuka stared at Yukinoshita.
— Hikigaya, have you lost your mind? Or have the remnants of your brain cells committed a ritual act of suicide under the influence of sunlight? — Yukinoshita instantly caught on to what I was trying to do, so she reacted in her usual manner.
She tried to hit back at me.
Not at all offended, I smiled gently.
— What's wrong? At the Cultural Festival, you successfully handled the role of vice-chair, and you've been managing the club for two years now. Many students know you well, so, no offense to Isshiki, winning the election race won't be difficult at all. Plus, losing to such a rival certainly won't be considered shameful for our client, — Yes, Yukino, I perfectly understood that you had already refused Hiratsuka's offer.
But it's one thing in private, and another in front of witnesses.
And since we started considering candidates who need to be persuaded... why not start with the nearest and most suitable option?
Jokes aside, I can perfectly imagine Snowball in the role of president.
Not that she's without flaws. But who in this world is perfect?
Excluding my little sister, of course.
— Ha-a? — It's been a while since I heard such an inflection in her voice.
— That's actually a wonderful idea! — exclaimed Isshiki, who had been watching the scene unfold.
— I agree, not a bad concept, — Hiratsuka slightly raised the corners of her lips.
Despite the orchestrated "attack," Yukino managed to maintain the remnants of her dignity.
— I am infinitely flattered that you consider me a suitable candidate, but my decision remains unchanged. We need to find another person, — And, as if trying to shift the focus of the conversation, she addressed Sensei: — By the way, is there a deadline for submitting the application?
— Preferably no later than Friday, — Shizuka stated the deadline after a brief thought.
— And the election itself?
— Three weeks from now.
A week for searching, and three for preparation.
In principle, relatively adequate timelines.
— I see... — Yukinoshita stretched out, tapping her finger on the table. — So, we have some buffer time.
— Do you think we can find someone? — Yui tilted her head, looking at her friend.
— We have to, — Snowball sighed, ignoring the happy smile on Isshiki's face and the relieved exhale from Hiratsuka.
...I gather that my opinion on participating in the upcoming farce isn't even being considered.
Although, nothing unexpected.
After all, such is the role of the protagonist of a gloomy romantic comedy.
Which has no comedy. And no romance. And, in general, it looks more like a crazy art-house film spawned by the sick mind of a schizophrenic.
Life, in short.
Just ordinary life.
Oh yeah, I mustn't forget to add a new item to the list of dreary clichés.
Student Council elections.