"Ha!—Haha!"
Even though she kept spamming that ridiculous attack, it was slow and didn't deal any real damage. Chitose's intentions were obvious—she was too embarrassed to apologize normally, so she did it in her own weird way. Not that I really minded. But expressing an apology in your own way instead of just bowing, when you're clearly in the wrong, felt... almost unforgivable.
I just gave her a look and silently accepted it.
Her way of doing things was all wrong—like how she buried their bodies with only their heads sticking out of the ground like cabbages. That didn't mean she didn't care, though. A solution is still a solution. But if it's one that most people can't accept, it becomes a problem. Otherwise, they wouldn't have left the club and brought it to the brink of disbandment.
While we were trading punches and shoving each other around, my older sister, Takao, was watching us from behind a tree. Her expression was sour, clearly irritated that I was getting close to someone she hated. Her hand gripped a thin branch so hard it splintered like it had been gnawed by a beaver. The eerie creak of wood caught our attention.
"Ohh? What are you doing here?" Chitose asked with a smug look on her face.
"Don't get the wrong idea. I didn't come here to see you!" she shot back. "I came to pick up that idiot. Nothing else!" She pointed at me, trying way too hard to sound convincing.
Chitose and I exchanged a knowing glance and stared at her deadpan.
'Does she think we're idiots? If you're going to lie, at least make it believable.'
"Are you sure about that?" I asked with a teasing tone, letting go of Chitose's smooth hand. "Or are you just using me as an excuse to see Shibasaki-san?"
Takao flinched. Hard. She clearly didn't expect her lie to be called out.
"Eh..."
Her brain started working double time from the pressure—she looked like Welfin being interrogated by Meruem. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she scrambled for a response. Of course, I didn't give her the chance.
"Even though we're siblings, we don't go home or come to school together. And even when we do, it's once in a blue moon," I added, narrowing my eyes. "You're way too obvious, sis. Come on."
I didn't even spell it out completely, but she understood. Her face turned red from embarrassment. She froze up, unsure of what to do next.
'Not expecting to get betrayed by your own brother, huh? ' I thought, amused. 'Maybe I should push things a bit.'
"Sis, I heard you challenged Shibasaki-san's club to a showdown—with disbandment on the line."
The topic shift helped her recover after a moment. Her expression turned serious.
"Y-yeah, so what!?"
"Not much," I shrugged. "But I think 'club disbandment' is a bit too bland. How about we spice it up with an additional bet?"
My strange tone made her suspicious. She hesitated.
"W-what do you want?"
Noticing her wavering confidence, I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Heh. Not much. Let's just say… if you win, I'll become the obedient little brother you've always dreamed of. I'll do whatever you say—unconditionally."
"Y-you... are you serious!?" Their eyes widened in disbelief. But I kept my expression firm. I was dead serious.
"Of course. You know I'm a man of my word." I smiled. "But—if we win, you'll reconcile with Shibasaki-san." I turned to Chitose. "And Chitose, you'll apologize to my sister for what you did."
Roka and Takao glanced at Chitose. My sister didn't say anything, but I could tell she understood.
"Well? Do you accept? Or are you not confident you can win?"
Takao fell into deep thought. The stakes were tilted in her favor—there was no real reason to reject. Her ultimate goal was to reconcile with Roka. Whether she won or lost, she'd get what she wanted. If she won, it'd be a bonus.
After weighing her options, she answered.
"Fine. I accept. The win condition stays the same—the club with the most visitors wins!"
"Of course," I nodded approvingly.
Takao gave Roka one last look before turning to leave. Once she was gone, the two girls approached me.
"Shin-san, are you really sure about this?" Roka asked. Her face showed deep, genuine concern. She didn't care about winning or losing—she was more worried about her friend.
I met her worry with a reassuring smile.
"Absolutely. I believe we can win. More importantly—I believe you can win. I trust you. Completely."
Roka's face flushed. She clearly didn't expect something like that. Her affection probably just shot up several levels. Her eyes were now filled with admiration and determination.
"Y-yes! I won't let you down, Shin-san!" she declared, clenching her fists tightly.
The Next Morning.
Although Roka and Chitose had declared they'd do their best to win, they still couldn't come up with a better plan. The atmosphere in the clubroom remained heavy—probably a mix of anxiety and that ridiculously high-stakes bet. Everyone was feeling the pressure.
Worst of all, the person responsible for all this? Still acting nonchalant. As if losing or winning didn't matter one bit. No one could say anything to him either—he'd said he believed in them. Trusted them. But it's already been overnight, and they still had nothing. Only a week left before the festival.
Slam—
As usual, Chitose slapped the table, dragging everyone's attention back.
"Does anyone have any ideas?! Anything is acceptable as long as we win!"
…I'm getting a serious feeling of déjà vu here. Still, I didn't say anything. I might end up a sandbag again. Not that I'm scared or anything.
"Hmmm... let me think..."
Sakura was the first to speak. Her smooth pink hair swayed as she tilted her head, tapping her cheek with a finger, deep in thought. After a few minutes, her face lit up—she must've come up with something brilliant. Everyone held their breath.
"I came up with… nothing. Hehehe!" she said, rubbing the back of her head.
Slap! — That was a facepalm moment if I ever saw one.
Chitose didn't bother pursuing the airhead any further. It was clearly a waste of time. She turned her gaze toward Roka instead, pinning her hopes on her best friend—but Roka was clearly in the middle of a panic attack. Her tiny fists kept punching the air while her head jerked back and forth between me and Chitose, like a broken robot full of anxiety.
With a long sigh, Chitose shifted her focus to Kenji.
But that bastard had already pulled out his I Love Manga volume and was pretending to read it, clearly feigning ignorance.
Since Minami-sensei was MIA—probably slacking off in the faculty room—I was the only one left. I'd been watching this whole farce unfold with my cheek resting on my palm.
Unfortunately, our eyes accidentally met.
I quickly looked away and pretended I didn't see anything. But Chitose wouldn't let me off that easy. She moved behind me, giving off the same ominous presence as Yelena staring down Armin. Every time I looked elsewhere, she repositioned herself and glared at me menacingly.
'This is hopeless…' I groaned internally. Still, I did have an idea—though it was shamelessly stolen from manga.
"Since we can't come up with anything… why don't we just scout the enemy first?" I suggested.
"Hmmm..." Chitose pondered for a moment. I was about to use that as my cue to escape, but before I could stand, she wrapped her arm around my shoulders like a snake coiling around its prey. I was caught—unable to move.
"That's a good idea," she said with a smirk. "You should go along with Roka."
'I figured as much.'
Since I suggested it, naturally I'd be the one stuck executing it. After all, I'm also the most qualified to get the job done.
"Fine..."
And so, dragging Roka along, we headed toward the "Real" Game Creation Club for reconnaissance. Unexpectedly, Kenji followed us. Maybe he was feeling guilty. Or maybe he just didn't want to stay in the same room as those lunatics. I didn't say anything—it's a canon event anyway. In fact, I was looking forward to that scene—the moment he gets his face smacked after the boob incident.
Unlike Kenji, who decided to sneak around, I went for a more direct approach.
Knock, knock!
After a few seconds, the door creaked open slightly. A single brown eye peeked through the gap. It was unmistakably my sister. I met her gaze head-on and declared our purpose before she could even ask.
"We came here to spy on you."
Her eye narrowed, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she opened the door just wide enough for one person to slip through.
"Only you can come inside."
"Hmmm...?"
Something about that sounded off, but I didn't press it. Maybe it was a privilege of being her younger brother. Kenji and Takao hadn't had many encounters with her, so her impression of them probably wasn't strong. Too bad—I was hoping to see some development between them, but this felt like a letdown.
I stepped inside. Roka tried to follow, but Takao blocked her, slamming the door shut in her face.
"You are not allowed to go in!" She barked.
And just like that, they were stuck outside, leaving the task to me.
"So, what's up with you guys?" I asked casually, though my eyes weren't on Takao.
Instead, they were locked onto the open code editor on the screen—being used by a girl seated at a desk.
There were only two people in the room. Yamada and the cross-dressing guy were probably out. My attention stayed fixed on the girl.
She had medium-length dark blue hair, tied into a short ponytail at the back. Long side bangs framed her face. Her sharp reddish-brown eyes gleamed behind rimless rectangular glasses, adding to her composed, intelligent appearance.
I recognized her instantly.
'Tsutsutmi Inada.'
The infamous pervert of the Real Game Creation Club.
Despite her oddly appealing face, her shamelessly lewd personality completely nullified whatever charm she might've had.
"Sit down here. I'm going to show you everything."
While I was lost in thought, Takao dragged me toward a nearby desktop. She opened the code editor and stood behind me, probably trying to figure out how to explain the logic to someone who, in her eyes, wasn't IT-literate.
That's where she was wrong.
My eyes scanned the code at an unbelievable speed. Even with the loud clacking of the keyboard in the background, I wasn't bothered in the slightest. I was fully focused. By the time I reached the end of the scroll, my expression had twisted into a frown.
"Who wrote this shitty code?" I blurted out, losing control of my tongue for a moment.
Too late to take it back—when I turned around, both Inada and Takao were staring at me in disbelief. Inada stopped typing altogether. Takao's eyes widened; her pupils shrank.
"Shin... Y-you... You understood that!?" she stammered.
I raised an eyebrow, not feeling proud, but also not seeing any reason to hide it. This was all part of the plan—even if I'd unknowingly accelerated the timing.
"Of course. This is code for a platformer game."
They continued to stare, speechless.
'Did they regret letting me in? 'I wondered. 'Takao probably didn't expect me to be capable of coding. But I was an IT guy in my previous life—I've been programming since I was five and even created my own AI by the age of twenty. They used to call me Zack Muckerberg.'
Since the code was already committed to version control, I had no worries about editing it. If they didn't like my changes, they could always revert. Not that they would.
I got to work.
The code was a mess—unnecessary functions, misplaced variables, poor structure, and barely any documentation. It took me about ten minutes to clean and rewrite the entire codebase while maintaining its functionality. I also documented everything properly.
Seriously... Who labels a block "this is for Mario" when the class is literally named "Mario"?
I organized the folders, separated scripts by purpose, and optimized the logic. By the time I was done, the game was fully functional—and far cleaner than before.
"Done," I said, letting go of the keyboard.
When I turned around, they were both still behind me, frozen in awe. They had clearly watched the entire process—the most shocking part probably being how I didn't search a single bug thing. I just... solved it.
"Shin, you..." Takao finally broke the silence and hurried to check the code herself.
She ran the program, and it launched flawlessly. Better than what they had hoped for.
"How come you know all this?"
She gripped the mouse tightly. Her hands were hidden by her chest, but the cursor on-screen trembled.
"That's just a trivial task, Sister," I said. "As long as you understand logic and structure, you can code almost anything."
The atmosphere shifted. She hesitated.
"I..." She wanted to say something but stopped herself.
Then: "Shin... are you going to participate in the school festival too?"
I leaned back and crossed my arms.
"Of course," I replied without hesitation.
"I see..."
She turned her head slowly. I saw tears welling in her eyes. She was smiling, but it was the kind of smile that barely held itself together. And then—
SLAP!
A sharp sting landed across my cheek. Her palm struck me violently.
"Why... Is that why you're so confident in winning?"
She tried to wipe her tears, but they kept flowing. In the next moment, she turned and ran.
The door flew open—slamming against the wall. Roka and Kenji jolted in shock as Takao shoved past them without a word.
"President!" Inada shouted, chasing after her, not even sparing me a glance.
I sighed deeply and closed the app after saving everything.
"Shin, what happened?" Kenji asked. Instead of going after her, they both stayed and looked at me with concern.
"Nothing. Just a conflict between siblings."
Not that they'd understand.
From the outside, it probably looked trivial. But for her, it was painful.
She asked me to join her club. Yet, I refused.
She forgave me when I said I'd side with her enemies—so long as she won.
She believed in herself. Confident in winning.
And now, after realizing the massive difference between our abilities, she must've felt like a fool. Like a plaything in someone else's scheme. It wasn't about victory anymore.
It was about trust. About us.
I should've stood beside her. She needed me the most. But instead, I crushed her.
It's cruel—but without cruelty, no one values kindness.
Without struggle, there's no growth.
Without conflict, there's no resolution.
That's why someone must play the role of the villain.
Someone must bear the pain.
And this time… that someone is me. All for the sake of reconciliation.