Chapter 9. And then, they faced each other.

Chapter 9. And then, they faced each other. CHAPTER 9 And then, they faced each other.

Masachika and Alisa had been quietly doing paperwork in the student council room after the Mystery Gift Incident reached its conclusion.

“President Touya, I finished checking the files.”

“Oh, really? Just put them over there, then. I’ll go through them later.”

“All right.”

Touya was the only other person in the student council room. Chisaki apparently still had to have a “talk” with the handicrafts club, Yuki was still sick, and Ayano had gone home to take care of her. As for Maria, she had to go to a meeting with the broadcasting club, leaving behind only these three for a change.

“Uh? Kuze, you have a moment?”

“What’s up? Did I make a mistake?”

“Hmm… I’m not sure. Could you give this another look?”

“…Oh, you’re right! That’s definitely a mistake. Sorry about that!”

“I thought so. It’s not like you to make a mistake like this, though.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry. I’ll fix it…”

Alisa stared at him with slightly worried eyes as he returned to his seat with the documents, so he uncomfortably smiled back.

“You don’t have to rush. This is it for today. You too, Little Kujou. You can work on that tomorrow, right?” Touya asserted.

“Oh yeah. You’re right.”

“Okay, then. Let’s just wait for Big Kujou to get back, and then we can all go home,” Touya replied as he grabbed his tea and moved to the seat in front of Masachika.

“So?” He began, casually looking at them seated across from him as though he were trying to make small talk. “You two seem really out of it today. Is something bothering you?”

Both Masachika and Alisa froze simultaneously. But after they briefly exchanged glances, Masachika gave a hesitant nod, his expression slightly strained, and stated on their behalf:

“Yeah… Kind of.”

“Really? Well, I’m here to listen if you want to talk. This is my duty as the president of the student council.”

“The president’s duty is to listen to students’ problems?”

“Hmm? Uh… Well, at least right now it is!”

Touya probably had a picture of the ideal student council president in his head, offering them a reassuring smile before slightly relaxing his expression.

“I mean, there are some things you can’t talk to your family or your friends in class about, right? I’m not going to force you to talk, but I will listen if you decide to do so.”

His genuinely concerned gaze prompted Masachika to exchange glances with Alisa once more.

Alya’s problem…is, well, obviously my fault.

He had a vague idea of what was bothering her, but wasn’t entirely certain. Still, judging by her expression, it was clear this wasn’t something she wanted to discuss here.

Should I tell him what’s bothering me…?

Discussing the issue itself wasn’t problematic for Masachika, especially since Alisa already knew what was bothering him… The real challenge was figuring out how to explain it.

“Hey, I don’t really want to be a diplomat or the successor to the Suou family, so is it really right for me to steal that position away from Yuki?” Yeah, there’s no way I can tell him that.

He bit down on his lip and mulled it over for a moment before calmly saying:

“…I know it’s probably rude of me to ask you this, but…”

“No, go on.”

“So, uh… You didn’t want to actually be the president of the student council, right? You just did this so that Chisaki would start paying attention to you, right?”

“Hmm? Well, uh… Yeah, I guess.”

Touya shifted his gaze slightly upward to the side and nodded.

“So I’m not trying to insult you or come at you in any way at all, but…”

After leading with that, Masachika asked:

“Do you ever…feel guilty for becoming the president…since there were countless other candidates who seriously wanted the position itself?”

“…Hmm.”

Touya slowly crossed his arms and leaned against the backrest, then raised his eyebrows and muttered:

“When you joined the student council—no—actually, before you joined, I vaguely remember you mentioning something similar. You were talking about your motivations needing to be pure if you wanted to join the student council.”

“Oh… Right. Masha was there, too.”

“Yeah. But, uh… Back to your question… Do I ever feel guilty? Hmm…”

He tilted his head and thought for a while…then smirked awkwardly.

“Sorry, but to be honest, I never really even had a chance to think about it when I was elected. All I felt was happiness and a sense of accomplishment. And up until then, I had been running nonstop, so I genuinely never had time to think about the other candidates.”

“Oh… Huh.”

“I know what you’re trying to say, though. The privilege of this position—the privilege of being accepted into the First Light Committee—is something that some people would risk their life for, and while I’m not really interested in the committee, that doesn’t mean I’m entirely indifferent about it.”

Alisa, seated beside Masachika, flinched slightly and stiffened. Yet Touya continued talking, seemingly oblivious.

“My goal was definitely not this position in the student council itself. I simply wanted Chisaki to pay attention to me—no, that’s not it.”

Touya suddenly shifted his gaze to the ceiling, narrowing his eyes as if facing his own inner self.

“The old me…was searching for a reason to change. I felt inferior to my peers, and I couldn’t find one good thing about myself. I hated that about me, so I always wanted to change, and that change was my love for Chisaki.”

His honest and simultaneous confessions made their eyes widen.

“Looking back, I honestly never believed that she would ever return my feelings… But I needed a reason to change, so I took the chance, despite believing that it was hopeless. Even though I hardly knew Chisaki at the time, I went to confess my feelings for her so that I couldn’t run away anymore. I blocked off my only path of escape.”

“What? That’s what happened?”

“Yeah, and then I immediately went to join the student council. Of course, I had to, since that was the condition Chisaki had given me… Ha-ha. But thanks to that, my arms and legs were trembling on my way home that day. I can still remember the feeling.”

Touya continued, smiling as if fondly remembering the past:

“But thanks to all that, there was no way I could turn around and run away. From then on, I only continued to run forward, never looking back. Because I felt like looking back would tempt me to give up, and allowing my gaze to wander would only get me laughed at and mocked by my peers.”

That was likely the reality, too. Touya always stood alone and took that step forward alone. Sure, there were probably people who were there for him, like the student council president and vice president at the time…but it wasn’t hard to imagine that he was subjected to looks of curiosity and mockery far more often than anything else.

“And while I continued to run, I gradually changed, and all my hard work ended up getting me elected. While I was happy about becoming the president, I was thrilled about finally being able to like the person I had become from the bottom of my heart. Of course, I don’t feel great about stealing this position from the other candidates for my own selfish reasons…but what I gained far outweighs all of the negatives.”

He smiled at Masachika and Alisa, his expression genuinely radiant.

“At the very least, if I had let guilt prevent me from running, then I would have forever missed my chance to change, and I’d still be stuck as the same person who used to hate himself. That’s why I don’t regret running, and I’m proud of the person I became,” he confidently declared before locking eyes with Masachika once more.

“Kuze, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but from what I can see…you care a little too much about others. Of course, that’s a beautiful trait to have, but it only hurts you in the end. You’ll regret never taking that next step forward, and these people you were worried about aren’t going to help you.”

Masachika’s eyes noticeably widened at Touya’s stern yet gentle comment.

“So why not take that next step forward? Run straight forward for yourself, and forget about everyone else. Instead of worrying so much about future regrets, try chasing future dreams. Who knows? You might end up regretting nothing at all.”

Touya suddenly grinned mischievously.

“But, well, while nobody is going to help you if you remain stagnant…I suppose I could help you a little just this once, now that I’ve given you that first push you need. If you ever regret chasing your dream, then you can come complaining to me, and I’ll listen.”

“Just listen? That’s it?”

“Pretty comforting knowing you’ve got someone to talk to, right?”

“Wow, I can sure count on you,” Masachika replied, his voice devoid of emotion, a deflated smirk matching his tone. But after sharing a sincere smile with the president, he adopted a more serious expression and bowed deeply to him.

“Thank you… That really helped. It was very motivating, too.”

“I really appreciated you opening up to us.”

“Oh, really? I’m glad.”

Touya beamed as his two younger clubmates bowed respectfully, when suddenly a knock echoed through the room and the supervisor for second-year students opened the door and poked his head inside.

“Touya, you have a moment?”

“Oh, uh… Of course. What is it?”

Touya retired from the room as the teacher waved him over, leaving an abrupt silence in the student council room.

“I guess even without some grand cause…it’s okay to simply run for student council president for my own sake,” murmured Alisa.

“…Yeah.”

Masachika nodded in agreement, their eyes naturally drawn to each other as they shared a quiet smile.

“…It looks like you’ve found your answer.”

“You too, Alya.”

“Yeah,” Alisa said with a faint smile. Then she faced forward again, her expression dignified. “I’m going to become the student council president for me and me alone.”

She spoke slowly, as if she were checking if she really felt that way.

“I don’t want to be a part of the First Light Committee. I don’t even have any special reason why I need to become the president. There’s nothing specific I want to do as the president, either.” And even while acknowledging that, she declared, “But that doesn’t matter. I’m going to become the president because that’s how I want to live my life, and I don’t plan on letting you or Yuki take that position away from me.”

There wasn’t the slightest trace of doubt in her eyes as Masachika studied her profile, squinting his eyes a bit as if staring into a spotlight.

“I…want to return as the successor of the Suou family because I want to change,” he replied, facing forward once more. He could feel Alisa’s gaze tickling his cheek, but he continued to look forward as if he were facing his inner self while he genuinely added:

“While I do want Yuki to be free again, I’m doing this for myself. I want to regain the pride I once had and become someone I can like…” After a brief pause, he declared, “So I’m going to take over as the Suou family’s successor and seize the position from Yuki.”

Silence enveloped the student council room, their declarations dissolving into the air until the lingering afterglow had completely faded.

“We’ve made up our minds, it sounds like.”

“…Yeah.” Masachika nodded, tilting his head. “But…”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing really…” He paused momentarily, then sighed in resignation, realizing there was no use in hiding it. “I was just wondering how I’m going to convince my grandfather. It’s great that I made up my mind and all, but he already said that he wasn’t going to take me back if I ran for vice president…”

As Masachika was scratching his head in a demoralized manner, Alisa calmly replied:

“If you can’t convince him with logic…then maybe it’s time to just be honest with him.”

“What?”

“If logic won’t work…then you’re just going to have to speak from the heart and appeal to him with your emotions. If you honestly tell him exactly how you feel, like Touya just did…then maybe he’ll understand?”

“Uh … ? Hmm…” Masachika grunted skeptically and was pivoting his entire body toward her—when he suddenly recalled the conversation he had with his father a few days ago.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though. It’s not that he doesn’t love his family. Far from it. He cares about his family in his own way…”

…Really? If there is even the tiniest bit of hope…then maybe I should take a chance.

The claim was that even the cold-blooded head of the Suou family cared about his kin, meaning that there was a chance he could be swayed if his family opened up to him.

But, well, I can’t think of any other way to go about this, so I don’t have much of a choice.

It was highly unlikely that Masachika possessed the skills necessary to persuade this wise old man, which meant he would have to take a gamble a try to appeal to his heart. It would at least be worth a try.

“…All right, I think it’s about time I have a heart-to-heart talk with him,” Masachika announced, his determination straightening his slouched posture. But a faint shadow almost immediately clouded his expression.

A heart-to-heart…

He reflected on his own words and lowered his gaze. A heart-to-heart… In other words, he needed to have an honest conversation. But he would first have to understand how he truly felt, meaning he needed to delve deeper inside himself. That was the first step.

Tell him how I truly feel…

He was almost immediately caught off guard by Alisa’s unexpected announcement.

“I’m going with you,” she exclaimed, as though it were only natural.

“Wee?!” he shrieked bizarrely, spinning to the side to face her.

“You said it yourself. We’re in this election together.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Besides…”

Alisa somewhat averted her gaze, bashfully fidgeting with her hair.

“I told you that I’d be there for you…”

Masachika blinked a few times, then let out a small, sheepish laugh.

“If you keep acting embarrassed like that, you’re going to start making me feel embarrassed,” he teased.

“O-oh, shut up. You’re the one who said it first.”

“Yeah, and that’s also why it’s so embarrassing.”

It was one of those moments that he would remember years later in the shower and cringe at, and that thought alone sent a faint chill down his spine. He faced forward once again, wrestling with his thoughts.

But is that old man really going to change his mind just because we decide to be honest with him?

He chose this path simply because he couldn’t think of any better option, but the idea that it could actually change Gensei’s mind felt, in truth, like nothing more than wishful thinking on Alisa’s part, since she had no idea how stubborn that man could be.

“Hmm…”

The plan was still missing something. Simply laying his heart bare before his grandfather wouldn’t be enough. But right as dread began coiling in Masachika’s gut, there was a knock at the door, followed by Chisaki stepping inside.

“Hey! Huh … ? Where’s Touya?”

After energetically greeting them, Chisaki surveyed the room, blinking curiously.

“Oh, hey. A teacher actually just stopped by and took him somewhere.”

She tilted her head slightly as she slid into the seat Touya had vacated just moments earlier.

“By the way, did something happen? I heard some pretty distressed voices.”

“…You heard that? Even though the door was closed?”

“Huh? Yeah?” Chisaki nodded as though it wasn’t strange in the slightest.

“…Wow.”

And so, Masachika decided to stop thinking about it and just accept it. After all, the soundproofing in the student council room was fairly solid, and he knew he hadn’t been loud, either. In other words, Chisaki was simply special, and stressing about it wouldn’t lead to anything productive.

“We were just discussing how I could convince a stubborn old man to listen to me, but he can’t be reasoned with…so I’m kind of in a pickle here,” revealed Masachika with a resigned note in his voice. Chisaki, however, raised an eyebrow and effortlessly replied:

“If reasoning with him isn’t going to work, then you’re just going to have to use force.”

“Yeah, why use big words when smash? Derp,” jested Masachika, when suddenly, a flash of inspiration raced through his mind, his eyes flaring wide as his hand drifted instinctively to cover his mouth.

“Kuze?”

“…On second thought, you might actually have a point.”

“Wait. Really?”

“Masachika?!”

Masachika sank deep into thought, seemingly oblivious to Chisaki’s startled expression and the wide-eyed astonishment on Alisa’s face. Before long, he had managed to formulate a plan with a certain sense of assurance. Wasting no time, he promptly contacted Ayano to arrange a meeting with Gensei, and two hours later, he got his reply. They were to meet the next day right after school, leaving him with almost no time to prepare.

The next day, Masachika, Alisa, and Ayano were driven to the Suou residence in one of the Suou family’s cars after school.

“Hey, Ayano?” Masachika’s voice came from the back seat.

“Yes?” answered Ayano from the front passenger seat.

“A long time ago, you asked me why I had decided to run with Alya. You remember that?”

“…Yes.”

“Did you tell my grandfather what we talked about?”

“…Yes, I did.”

“All right, good.”

Although he could sense Ayano staring at him curiously through the rearview mirror, Masachika remained focused on reviewing his strategy. Not long after that, they arrived at the Suou residence, stepped out of the car, and were immediately greeted by Natsu, who escorted them to the study where Masachika and Alisa came face-to-face with Gensei once again.

“I apologize for—”

Gensei raised a hand to silence Masachika.

“No need for pleasantries. State your purpose,” he demanded with a piercing gaze. Masachika drew in a slow breath and approached Gensei’s desk, dropping all formality as he faced his grandfather as his true self.

“I have come to retract what I said and apologize.”

“Retract what you said?”

Looking firmly into Gensei’s slightly bewildered eyes, Masachika declared:

“A while back, when Ayano asked me why I didn’t run with Yuki, I told her that Yuki and the Suou family had nothing to do with my decision.”

After saying everything in a single breath, he met Gensei’s eyes to find them unchanged, suggesting that Ayano really had already passed along this information.

“But that was a lie. Half the reason why I decided to run with someone else was so Yuki couldn’t become the student council president.”

That was something Masachika had asked himself many times since deciding to run with Alisa. Why her? More importantly, why hadn’t he run again with Yuki in high school? Was it the guilt from defeating the other candidates and winning in middle school? Partly. But that guilt was miniscule compared to how bad he felt for burdening Yuki with the weight of the Suou family’s expectations.

And yet, he had stubbornly refused to help her, much less run with her this election cycle. But after almost endlessly questioning himself, the answer he arrived at was disarmingly simple.

“I didn’t want her to get elected.”

That was the deepest driving force that even Masachika himself had failed to recognize.

“Because I knew that if she became the student council president, she’d naturally join the First Light Committee and go on to live out her life as a proper member of the Suou family.”

He didn’t want that future to become a reality. At the very least, he didn’t want to be the one to give her that final push. He couldn’t bring himself to return to the Suou family, yet he couldn’t stand by and watch his sister sacrifice herself for the family name, either, and thus chose neither as he simply observed.

His cooperation in Yuki’s middle school campaign had temporarily soothed his guilt toward her, and his refusal to help in high school had freed him from the burden of sealing her fate. Instead, all he did was simply observe like a selfish coward.

“I didn’t want to see her trapped in this house and lose her freedom, and I felt like I would much rather see a future where Alya—Alisa Kujou’s dream came true. That’s why I decided to run with her.”

“…”

After Gensei studied his grandson’s raw moment of vulnerably, he silently directed that same unreadable gaze toward Alisa.

“Was the future that girl painted for you truly so captivating that it moved your heart? You, but a shell of your former self?” he responded gruffly. Then he honed in on Alisa.

“Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou, was it? Why do you wish to become the student council president?”

Alisa stepped forward to stand beside Masachika and, with quiet boldness and a touch of embellishment, repeated the very words she had once told him.

“Because I want to. I want to be the president, so that is what I am going to do. If there is a higher mountain to climb, I am going to climb it, because that is how I live my life.”

She admitted without a trace of guilt or hesitation that she wanted to become president purely for her own sake.

“I want to go as high as I can, and I will keep moving forward with unwavering determination to become the version of myself that I truly aspire to be. Therefore, I am going to become president of the student council and stay true to that path.”

Alisa already knew that aiming for the top wasn’t everything—that countless paths existed in life, none inherently right or wrong. After all, the boy standing next to her had taught her that. Yet even then—even with that knowledge, she still chose to aim for the top. She couldn’t help herself. This was simply who Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou was at her core.

Witnessing her declare this so plainly and with such conviction, Masachika glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled. He nearly squinted before her radiance, but there was no self-deprecation in his expression—only admiration.

“Anyway, as you can see, this is who Alya is. After seeing how radiant she was, I just had to witness her dream come true by her side.”

His expression grew serious as he continued.

“I want to help her dream come true, and at the same time, I want Yuki to be free. I don’t want to see her future robbed from her by making her become a diplomat and take over for the Suou family. I want to give her the possibility to become anything she wants; and I am doing this for her but, more importantly, for myself. I want to steal the position right out of her hands and become your successor to regain the pride I once had.”

Even though he spoke with firm resolve, his grandfather’s eyes remained cold and unmoved.

“And? You want me to ease the one condition I gave you? That you should be allowed to return to the Suou family even as the vice president of the student council?”

Gensei was essentially saying, “Did you really think that would work?” Yet Masachika shook his head with unwavering conviction.

“No, I’m not here to negotiate about that. I told you already. I’m here to retract what I said and apologize.”

And then, he delivered a declaration of war disguised as an apology:

“I promised you that I would never call myself Yuki’s brother again, so I would like to take this moment to apologize because I am going to break that promise.”

Gensei’s brow twitched, and a crease began forming between his eyes as Masachika bowed. Then, while lifting his eyes to meet his grandfather’s unmistakably more menacing glare head-on, Masachika declared:

“During the second semester’s closing ceremony, I plan on publicly announcing to the entire student body that I am Yuki’s biological brother. I also plan on announcing that I intend to rob her of her position of the Suou family successor as well.”

The air surrounding Gensei grew increasingly more volatile. Piercing Masachika with his glare, he asked in a low, barely contained voice, like a volcano moments from eruption:

“Do you honestly believe I would allow you announce our family matters to the world in such a manner?”

Yet even under that fierce, suffocating gaze—so intense it triggered a primal response to danger—Masachika remained unshaken.

“I am not seeking your permission. I don’t care how Yuki feels about it, either. I am going to become the successor and do anything I can to do so, whether you and Yuki like it or not. I am going to prove to the students of Seirei Academy and the members of the First Light Committee that I deserve to be the successor, and I am going to create a situation where you will have no choice but to accept me back into the family.”

It was a brazen and arrogant declaration of his resolve. Gensei narrowed his gaze ever so slightly…then lowered his head and shut his eyes. After a long pause, he exhaled slowly, the oppressive weight of his presence melting away.

He thereupon directed his gaze to Alisa, his tone stripped of its venom, and asked in a voice that carried an almost tender quality:

“Ms. Kujou, I appreciate you coming all this way to speak with me, but do you think you could give us a moment to talk alone?”

“Oh, uh…”

Following Gensei’s unexpected courtesy and request, Alisa threw a bewildered glance at Masachika, but he simply nodded back despite his own confusion.

“It’s okay.”

“Yes… Of course.”

But just as Alisa bowed to Gensei and turned on her heel, Gensei suddenly called out to her as if something had just come to mind.

“Oh, right. One last thing, Ms. Kujou,” Gensei muttered, prompting Alisa to turn back around.

“ … ! Yes?”

“May I ask your mother’s name?”

“Huh? …Akemi. ‘ Ake ’ is written with the character for dawn and ‘ mi’ is written with the character for ocean .”

“…All right.”

She tilted her head in bewilderment at the abrupt question.

“Do you…know my mother?”

“…In a way. It’s no big deal. I apologize for stopping you.”

“No, it’s not a problem.”

Perhaps sensing from Gensei’s demeanor that he had no intention of responding, Alisa bowed once more at the door before exiting the office, leaving only the grandfather and his grandson inside.

Silence stretched between them for a few moments until…

“So is that girl the reason you changed?” Gensei asked.

Masachika thought for a moment while feeling puzzled, unable to quite grasp the man’s intent.

“She’s probably the biggest reason…but not the only one. I think I was able to change because of all the people that I met after leaving this house,” he replied carefully.