Chapter VI - This Joke Isn't Funny Anymore (IV)

Akise's grin vanished as the footsteps grew louder. He quickly rolled up his scroll, shoving it under a pile of books as the door slid open without a knock.

Arisato Seijuro stood in the doorway as his presence seemed to drain all warmth from the room like a human freezer. His uniform was impeccable—not a wrinkle, not a speck of dust, the student council president's pin gleaming on his lapel. His eyes swept over the decorated room with a special type of disgust. It was akin to the same type of "disgust" you'd see a CEO of a tech company express when seeing homeless people.

"Afternoon inspections," he began, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "All club spaces are being evaluated for Cultural Festival allocations."

I stood reflexively; class representative training kicked in like muscle memory. Akise remained seated, his posture deliberately casual, but I could see tension in his shoulders.

"We weren't notified of any inspections," I replied, trying to keep my voice even.

"This is the notification." Arisato-senpai produced a clipboard, making a point of examining our decorations with slow, deliberate movements. He ran a finger along the dusty piano, then looked at the smudge with contempt. "The Four Symbols Club. Remind me of your official charter again?"

"Comparative cultural studies of East Asian mythology through interactive experiential learning," Akise, surprisingly, replied in his most normal tone.

"Ah, yes."

Arisato-senpai's lips curved into what might generously be called a smile.

"And how many 'comparative cultural studies' has your club conducted this semester? How many reports filed? How many presentations have been given?"

I felt a cold weight settling in my stomach.

On paper, the Four Symbols Club existed to study mythology. In reality, it was our refuge... a place where Akise could be Akise, where I could be... less of a ghost.

"We've been in a restructuring phase," I offered, hearing the hollowness of my own words.

"Many months of restructuring. How fascinating." Arisato made a note on his clipboard. "And current membership?"

I could feel the air becoming as hot as the Sahara Desert.

"Two active members, senpai, but we're recruiting for—"

"Club charter minimum is four. But you knew that, didn't you, Kagami-kun? As a class representative, you're well-versed in school regulations."

"We were granted an exception last trimester due to graduating members." Akise stood finally, though he was about 18 centimeters shorter than the president.

"Exceptions expire." Arisato-senpai turned his cold gaze toward Akise, examining him the way someone might examine a particularly unpleasant cockroach. "Nanahara-kun, isn't it? The boy who writes those... stories."

The way he said "stories" reminded me exactly how my father refers to the word "music."

"Light novels, I'm going to be published someday." Akise's smile was still there, but I could hear the tightness in his voice.

"How... aspirational." Arisato-senpai looked around the room again, taking in the streamers, the posters, and the carefully constructed haven we'd built. "Unfortunately, this space is being reallocated. The storage committee has filed a formal request for additional square footage, and this room, with its strategic location and underutilization, is the obvious choice."

"Y-You can't do that. We have a historical claim. This room has been ours since last school year." Akise's voice cracked slightly.

"Historical claim... this isn't the Edo Period, Nanahara-kun. This is an educational institution with limited resources that must be allocated efficiently." He turned to me. "Kagami-kun, surely you understand. As someone tasked with managing resources for your class, you recognize the importance of optimization."

Yeah, I anticipated this. This would be roughly the time when I feel trapped between my duty as class representative and my loyalty to the one person who had never given up on me.

Yet, even as I foresaw this outcome eventually, it still hurt like hell.

"Senpai, the club is important, and it serves a really great purpose." I hated how weak I sounded.

"What purpose would that be?" Arisato-senpai's eyes narrowed. "Providing a space for... what was it you called yourself, Nanahara-kun? The 'Dark Crystal Seraph'?" He glanced down at his clipboard. "Yes, that's noted here in previous reports. Along with costumes, role-playing, and other activities that strike me as more suited to elementary school students than Amane scholars."

"It's called creativity. Maybe you've heard of it." Akise was practically growling.

But he merely responded with a tone as frigid as dry ice.

"I've heard of many things. I've heard of clubs that meet minimum membership requirements. I've heard of activities that enhance the school's reputation instead of making it a laughingstock. I've heard of students who contribute meaningfully rather than engaging in childish fantasies."

I wanted to stand up for Akise.

I wanted to stand up to Arisato-senpai.

But the words wouldn't come.

I'd spent too long being invisible, too long avoiding conflict, taking the path of least resistance.

"The cultural heritage we study is legitimate," I managed finally.

"These... paper dragons and magical circles? Kagami-kun, this is degeneracy masquerading as education."

"Don't talk about him like that," Akise snapped, stepping forward.

Arisato-senpai didn't move, but his grip on the clipboard tightened.

"Like what? I'm merely stating facts. The Four Symbols Club has consistently failed to meet charter requirements, has produced no measurable output, and occupies valuable space that could serve the student body as a whole. But then, you understand the concept of serving the greater good, don't you, Kagami-kun? It's why you're a class representative. It's why you handle the work no one else wants."

The words burrowed under my skin like parasites. He was right. That was exactly why I was class representative, because I never said no.

Because I was too afraid of disappointing people.

Because I thought if I made myself useful enough, I might deserve to exist.

Akise could only manage to stare at me, trying to mask the hint of betrayal in his voice to no avail.

"...I thought you'd be on our side?"

"He's not on anyone's side," Arisato said before I could respond. "Are you, Kagami-kun? You're simply... convenient. The path of least resistance."

He made another note on his clipboard.

"Tell me, have you ever stood for anything that might cause conflict? Have you ever defended a position that wasn't handed to you by someone else?"

I felt heat rising in my face. Shame, anger, humiliation.

He was dissecting me. Laying bare every weakness, every compromise, and every failure.

"T-That's enough! You don't get to talk to him like that!" Akise's voice cracked.

"I'm simply having a professional conversation with a fellow student representative. I could have brought this matter directly to the faculty, but I thought I'd extend the courtesy of handling it internally. That's what good leadership looks like, Kagami-kun. Taking initiative. Making difficult decisions. Standing firm."

All the things I wasn't doing. All the things I'd never done.

Arisato-senpai was staring at me. And for a second, I thought there was something else in his eyes.

Pity? Disappointment?

Resentment?

Then an epiphany.

This wasn't just about the Four Symbols Club.

He wanted to punish me.

"So here's my proposal," Arisato continued, his voice crisp and businesslike. "The Four Symbols Club will be granted a probationary period until the Cultural Festival. During this time, you will either recruit the minimum four members required by charter, or you will transform this club into something that actually contributes to Amane's educational mission. No more fantasy role-playing. No more...whatever this is." He gestured dismissively at the decorations.

"And if we refuse?" Akise challenged.

"Then I'll bring a formal complaint to the disciplinary committee citing misuse of school resources, charter violations, and—" his eyes flicked to the writings on Akise's scroll that peeked out from under the books, "—inappropriate content creation on school grounds." His gaze shifted back to me. "And as Kagami-kun can attest, such complaints become part of one's permanent record. They tend to come up during university interviews, scholarship considerations, and other... opportunities."

It was a threat, pure and simple.

He would destroy Akise's future if we didn't comply.

And he would use my position, my responsibility, my fear against both of us.

"Senpai, even this isn't...fai..." My vision grew blurry from the tears that were threatening to escape. I couldn't even finish the sentence, whether it was from the lump in my throat or realizing that nothing I would say would make any difference.

"Fair? Was it fair when I had to reorganize the entire festival schedule because Class 2-A missed their submission deadline? Was it fair when I had to explain to the principal why the grade reports were delayed because a certain class representative failed to collect them on time?"

I was drowning.

There was no air, no room to breathe, no room to think.

I didn't even realize that Akise charged at Arisato. I only noticed as he grabbed onto the front of his blazer, pulling him back with a strength I didn't know I had.

"S-Stop it, Akise!"

"SHOUMA, HE—"

"We'll do it," I said finally, the words tasting like ash. "We'll meet the membership requirement or... redesign the club."

"Excellent choice. I'll expect a full proposal by Friday. New charter, new focus, new activities. Something befitting Amane's standards." Arisato-senpai tucked the clipboard under his arm and headed for the door, pausing at the threshold. "Oh, and Kagami-kun? The roof access situation we discussed earlier? I expect that to be resolved immediately."

The door slid shut behind him, but his presence lingered like a bad smell.