Heartbeats and Illusions

Without Shinomiya Kaguya's assistance, managing the day-to-day operations became undeniably more troublesome for Natsukawa Kanade. Tasks like poring over student records or organizing strategies were no longer as streamlined. Now, every detail had to be painstakingly researched and handled by him alone.

Still, there was a silver lining. He didn't need to agonize over whether to reveal the truth to Kaguya—about why he had initially gotten close to her.

Strictly speaking, their dynamic had never progressed beyond an ambiguous rivalry. Kanade had made no grand gestures or confessions, nor had he given Kaguya any overt reason to believe he favored her. If anything, their relationship could best be described as a clash of equals, a battle between sharp intellects. From Kaguya's perspective, she likely saw him as a formidable competitor, nothing more.

This confirmed what Kanade had suspected all along: any notion of romance between them was nothing but an illusion. And that was fine. Better to leave it that way than risk ruining their intricate balance with a moment of honesty.

"Stick to the plan," he murmured to himself, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the polished surface of the student council desk. There was no need for theatrics or dramatics. Just maintain the status quo and let things play out naturally.

In his hands were two meticulously prepared lists, each bearing the names of first-year candidates vying for the position of student council president. His sharp gaze lingered on the names written in neat characters.

"Iino Miko… Isshiki Iroha…"

Both were first-years, fresh-faced newcomers with ambition gleaming in their eyes.

Traditionally, third-years abstained from running in the election, their focus instead shifting to preparing for higher education. And second-years? Kanade's influence, built through years of careful networking and unrivaled leadership, ensured they wouldn't dare challenge him.

That left the first-years—bold, brash, and blissfully ignorant of the mountain they sought to climb.

Like newborn calves unafraid of tigers, they saw his position as a throne they could easily claim.

Kanade smirked faintly, his thoughts flitting between the two candidates.

Iino Miko had garnered a modest but respectable 15% support rate. A stern disciplinarian with a passion for justice, she was a determined individual who, while lacking in charisma, commanded a small but loyal following.

Isshiki Iroha, on the other hand, had racked up an impressive 30%. Her cheerful, mischievous demeanor masked a cunning mind. She was a natural at charming her peers and knew exactly how to manipulate the ebb and flow of public opinion.

Individually, neither posed a significant threat to Kanade's dominion. But if, by some stroke of misfortune, the two decided to join forces…

His brow furrowed. "It's unlikely," he muttered. Both girls had strong, independent personalities. Neither seemed the type to willingly align themselves with another. Still, it wasn't impossible, and he couldn't afford to take chances.

Kanade understood his position all too well. While he had secured the loyalty of many at Shuchiin Academy, there were still plenty of "Pure Academy" traditionalists who resented the idea of a "Mixed Academy" student like him holding the top seat.

Their schemes had been laughably ineffective thus far, but that could change in an instant if someone with genuine skill emerged to unite them. And if that someone was supported by a coalition of determined underdogs, the hyenas would pounce.

The protection of the Shinomiya Group offered some degree of security, but it wasn't absolute. Besides, given the increasingly strained dynamic between him and Kaguya, relying on that connection seemed less and less viable.

Failure was not an option.

"I can abdicate willingly," he mused, "but only on my terms."

The quiet room was interrupted by a sudden knock at the door, sharp and precise.

"Come in," Kanade called, half-expecting Kaguya to sweep in with her usual air of imperious determination. He was already preparing himself for the verbal sparring match that would inevitably follow.

Instead, a girl he didn't recognize stepped in, her presence oddly familiar.

"Hello, Senior! I'm Isshiki Iroha, here to visit you!"

Kanade blinked.

"...?"

Of all the scenarios he'd imagined, this wasn't one of them.

A candidate for the student council presidency, brazenly entering the current president's office for a private conversation?

This was the kind of move that would light up the rumor mills by morning.

His thoughts wandered for a moment, picturing the sensational headlines the news department would craft.

"Scandalous Secret Meeting! Freshman Candidate and Former President Caught in Private Rendezvous! Plotting or Flirting? Stay Tuned!"

He could already see the editor gleefully typing out the article.

Kanade could practically hear the exaggerated narration in his head. The news team thrived on drama, and they'd have a field day spinning this encounter into a full-blown conspiracy theory.

Not that it would matter much. This kind of gossip would only add fuel to the election fever, drawing more eyes to the process without shifting the tides significantly.

Still, as Isshiki Iroha stood before him, he remained composed, his sharp gaze studying her like a hawk sizing up a fox. He calmly slid a sheet of white paper into the bottom of a stack of documents and folded his hands on the desk.

"Hello, Isshiki Iroha-san," he greeted evenly, his voice devoid of warmth but not unkind.

Confidence radiated from him. It was important to maintain an aura of calm authority, especially in situations like this. Panic or hesitation would only give her ammunition.

"If I'm not mistaken, you're one of the candidates for this election, correct? So, tell me, what business does a freshman candidate have in the student council office?"

His tone was polite but firm, a thinly veiled challenge. For someone like Isshiki, who thrived on cheeky defiance, it was a calculated move to gauge her intentions.

Iroha's response was as bold as he had expected.

"I'm here to visit you, Senpai!" she declared, her tone chipper, her smile disarming.

"...What?"

For a moment, Kanade's brain short-circuited. Of all the possibilities he had entertained, this was the last thing he'd expected.

Was she serious? Did she genuinely think it was acceptable to announce such an audacious reason so openly? Or was this some kind of mind game?

"Isshiki Iroha-san," he began, trying to regain his composure, "you're aware this is a sensitive period, aren't you?"

"That doesn't matter!" she chirped, bounding closer with the energy of a mischievous puppy. Suddenly, she was leaning on his desk, hands clasped behind her back, her smile brighter than the fluorescent lights overhead. "I just wanted to meet you in person! Are you free, Senpai? Walk with me?"

Kanade stared at her, dumbfounded.

This girl wasn't just bold—she was dangerous. Her positive attitude and innocent charm were weapons, expertly wielded to catch him off guard.

If Kaguya were here, she would have cut through Iroha's antics with her sharp, authoritative demeanor. But Kanade was alone, and there was no choice but to handle this solo.

"Sorry," he replied, his tone cool and businesslike. "I still have work to finish. I don't have time for distractions."

"No problem!" Iroha responded cheerfully, undeterred. She spun around and plopped onto the sofa, crossing her legs with a casual elegance that seemed out of place. "I'll wait until you're done, Senpai!"

Kanade blinked.

"...Suit yourself," he muttered, turning back to his desk.

He doubted she would last long. Girls like Iroha—vivacious and impulsive—lacked the patience to wait out a situation like this. He assumed she'd grow bored and leave within fifteen minutes.

And so, he focused on his work, the steady rhythm of his pen scratching against paper filling the quiet room.

Minutes turned to hours, the orange glow of the setting sun filtering through the window as evening descended. Stretching his arms, Kanade leaned back in his chair, satisfied with his progress.

That's when he remembered.

Iroha.

He glanced toward the sofa, expecting to find it empty. But to his surprise, she was nowhere in sight.

"Typical," he muttered under his breath, smirking faintly. She hadn't even lasted as long as he'd predicted. "Just as I thought. She's not like Shinomiya—"

"Looking for me, Senpai?"

Kanade froze.

The voice came from directly behind him. Slowly, he turned his head, only to find Iroha standing there, her face inches from his, her expression an impish blend of mischief and triumph.

"Gah!" Kanade recoiled instinctively, his chair scraping against the floor.

Iroha tilted her head, her sly grin growing wider. "You're pretty jumpy, Senpai. Did I scare you?"

Kanade pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply.

This girl was relentless.