There had been reports of students lingering around the campus after school hours, especially those who did not belong to any club. The matter had begun to show in their grades, gradually tarnishing the school's reputation for discipline and academic excellence.
Hitomi crossed one leg over the other and sat upright in the leather chair at the center of the council room. Her fingertips brushed once along the polished armrest before she looked up.
"What are your thoughts on the matter?" Her tone was steady, controlled, carrying a quiet authority.
A boy sitting opposite her adjusted his posture, shoulders tightening as he drew in a quiet breath. His eyes moved briefly over the neatly arranged papers before him.
"We could introduce disciplinary measures for those scoring below four hundred, or under an average of eighty," he began, voice low but careful. "It might lessen the number of students who idle after school, and encourage them to study more to reach the required marks. In that way, the problem could be addressed indirectly."
The head of the disciplinary committee adjusted his glasses, the faint reflection of the room's lights glinting across the lenses. He leaned forward slightly, his tone calm yet firm.
"That is a good proposal, but you haven't considered the student-athletes," he began. "They represent our school and spend much of their time in training. For them—who already have less time for studies—wouldn't it be unfair to be judged by the same academic standards as those who simply idle or avoid club activities?"
The boy's brows drew together as he lowered his gaze for a moment, the sound of paper shifting faintly beneath his hand.
"That's true," he murmured. His tone steadied as he looked up again. "Still, it would also be unfair if athletes and non-athletes had separate grade standards. In the end, they attend the same classes and study the same material. Achieving good marks should come down to how one manages their time."
Hitomi nodded once, her fingers tapping softly against the wooden surface in a slow rhythm.
"I understand both of your opinions," she said after a brief pause. "Then, let us proceed with this plan—but with a lower average of seventy-five. It should be reasonable for everyone. Is that acceptable to you?"
Both members straightened, then eased their shoulders at her decision.
"Yes, President." Their voices overlapped lightly, respectful and in sync.
Hitomi gave a short nod. "Good. Then, moving on to the next matter—"
Before she could finish, the door gave a low creak. A series of hurried footsteps crossed the floor, the faint shuffle of polished shoes breaking the quiet of the room.
"Good afternoon." Sachiko stepped inside, a faint breath escaping as she closed the door with quiet care. "I'm sorry for being late. I was held back in class taking notes. I hope I didn't miss anything."
Hitomi lifted a hand slightly, her expression composed. "It's alright. We haven't done much yet—we only just began."
"I see… that's a relief." Sachiko moved closer, smoothing the front of her blazer with a small motion.
Hitomi's gaze followed her. Her eyes steadied, the air between them tightening just a little. "By the way, how did it go with the task I gave you back when you first joined the council?"
What does she mean by a task? Sachiko's thoughts caught for a moment. Wait… does she mean convincing Tetsuo to join the student council?
Her expression stiffened before she could hide it. Hitomi's eyes narrowed slightly, her head tilting as if to read the silence between them.
"From that look, I suppose you haven't spoken to him yet—or perhaps you tried, but it didn't go well." Her tone stayed even, unhurried.
She turned her gaze toward the other members. "Would you two step outside for a while? I'd like a word with the vice president."
Her voice remained calm, yet carried a quiet firmness that left little room for refusal.
"Yes, President." The two members rose at once, collecting their papers in quiet order before stepping out. The door closed with a soft click, leaving the room still except for the faint hum of the ceiling lights.
Hitomi's tone eased as she leaned slightly back in her chair. "Those two boys have been a real help to the school," she said, her words steady but warm. "They give their time to handle the concerns of students and even parents. I'm grateful the former president noticed their potential. They've been making a real difference."
Sachiko gave a small nod, a faint smile touching her lips though her shoulders remained tight. "Yes… that's true. They take their work very seriously."
Hitomi's eyes drifted back to her. "Then, tell me—why do you think Tetsuo refuses to join the council?"
"Well…" Sachiko brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze lowering slightly. "I don't think there's any special reason. He just isn't interested in things like this."
Her voice softened as she continued. "I've tried to speak with him several times, but most of the time, he doesn't even respond. It's strange to say, but we haven't had a proper conversation since the semester started. He just ignores me."
A quiet breath escaped her before she lifted her eyes again. "Also, he's joined the basketball team now. That makes it even harder to convince him."
Hitomi closed her eyes briefly, as if weighing her words.
"I see. I've been saving an important position for Tetsuo Kawaguchi on the council. However, it can't stay vacant much longer—delays will only cause unnecessary trouble." She opened her eyes, calm but firm. "So here's what I need—you must persuade him to take the role and serve this school to his fullest. This will be the last time I ask you. Use whatever means you find necessary."
Sachiko straightened her posture slightly. "Understood. Should I approach him now, or wait for another time?"
"Now would be best," Hitomi replied. "He should be in training at the moment. That setting might make things... smoother to handle."
Sachiko straightened slightly. "Alright. I'll be right back."
She turned on her heel and left the room, the faint click of the door marking her exit.
Hitomi's gaze lingered on the door for a moment, her expression unreadable. Tetsuo Kawaguchi… who exactly are you?
Outside, the corridor was quiet except for the echo of her own footsteps. The stillness faded as she neared the gym—distant sounds of bouncing balls and shoes sliding over polished wood reached her ears. Her pace quickened, steady and deliberate.
"Tetsuo, catch!" Yukio's voice carried sharply through the gym.
Tetsuo's hands rose just in time. The ball met his palms with a solid thud, the leather smooth against his skin. He settled into a low stance—knees bent, shoulders steady. Across from him, Hayato lowered his center of gravity, eyes locked on the ball.
The lane closed off. Tetsuo lifted the ball slightly, hinting at a three. Hayato reacted at once, pushing off the floor.
His sneakers scraped against the wood. He got me, his jaw clenched as Tetsuo slipped past.
Tetsuo sent the ball toward Takahiro, who caught it in motion and leapt toward the rim. The sound of feet pounding the floor followed—Liam rose into view, arm outstretched. The ball struck his palm and dropped to the ground with a heavy slap that echoed through the gym.
Takahiro landed hard, breath catching in his throat. I can't get past him.
Yukio caught the ball on its rebound and flicked it back to Tetsuo.
Before he could move, Noboru and Hayato pressed in from both sides, their shadows overlapping him near the sideline.
Tetsuo's heel shifted. He twisted, body folding low as he turned sharply through the gap. The friction under his shoes let out a brief screech. He broke free, space opening before him.
He drove forward, air brushing past his ears. His steps carried him upward toward the hoop—but Liam was already moving, his body rising to meet him.
At the peak of his jump, Tetsuo tilted his wrist and released the ball sideways. Yukio received it cleanly under the basket, his movement calm and precise. The shot left his fingers and slipped through the net with a soft swish.
Nanaho's voice came from the sideline, clear and composed. "Nice work, everyone. The dribbling was sharp—and your court awareness, Tetsuo, that was well done."
Sachiko eased the gym door open just enough to slip through, leaving it slightly ajar behind her. The faint draft from outside mixed with the heavier air of the gym, thick with the scent of sweat and floor polish.
The rhythmic sound of dribbling balls echoed through the space, joined by short bursts of shouts and the squeak of sneakers cutting across the polished wood.
Her eyes swept over the players in motion, following the ball until they found him.
Tetsuo… there he is.
He moved with quiet precision, body low, eyes alert. Every pass and pivot drew attention toward him without effort.
Sachiko stayed near the doorway, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of the door. So I was right. They're still in the middle of practice.
"Nice passing, Tetsuo!" Harumi's voice rang out from the staircase, light and high, carrying easily over the echoing court.
"Nice shot, Yukio-senpai!" another girl called, her words quickly followed by a round of cheerful laughter.
"They're amazing! Just watching them gives me chills," one of them whispered, half in awe.
Sachiko's gaze shifted toward the small group gathered by the steps. Her eyes narrowed, the corners of her lips tightening as a quiet breath slipped out.
What's with these girls…? And she's even calling him by his first name?
The girls leaned closer to one another, giggling under their breath.
Sachiko looked away, fingers tightening slightly against the doorframe. I don't have time for this. I came here to get him to join, not to compete for attention.
A pair of sharp claps echoed through the gym. Nanaho stood at the sideline, clipboard in hand.
"Alright, let's pick it up again," she said, her tone brisk as the players began moving back into position.
Sachiko's eyes stayed fixed on Tetsuo.
He moved with steady control, the ball slipping between his legs, then behind his back, every motion sharp but effortless. Hayato guarded closely, sneakers scraping the floor, yet Tetsuo's face stayed unreadable—calm, detached, the same as always.
The steady sound of the dribble stirred something faint in her memory.
A narrow street washed in the soft light of dusk. The pavement echoed with the steady rhythm of a ball, each bounce clear and light. A younger Tetsuo moved with easy focus, a faint grin tugging at his lips as he dribbled between his legs again and again. Beside him, a small girl sat at the curb, knees drawn close, clapping in time with the sound. Her laughter mixed with his quiet grin, filling the narrow street.
The image wavered, fading into the gym's echo. Sachiko drew in a slow breath.
I don't understand… Is he really the same Tetsu-kun I knew back then?
The ball bounced in a perfect rhythm, sharp and unfeeling.
No… it can't be. He moves the same way, but everything else—his eyes, his presence—it's like he's become someone else.
The memory she carried of him wavered against the reality before her, the warmth she remembered swallowed by silence.
She shook her head.
No… now's not the time to think about that. Hitomi wants results. This is it—the last try.