Chapter 6: The Art of the Deal and the Brooklyn Noir
[A/N: Yo, author here! Just checking in to see how you guys think the story is going. My girl and I think it's moving along fantastically, but we need that third-person perspective. Drop a comment!
Today's Side Story: How I ended up a kitchen slave.
My girl was complaining about her hair and getting jealous of mine. I literally just use basic shampoo, while she's out here with the 2-in-1, conditioner, growth serums, and a whole 5-step ritual. Then, she pivots to complaining about my "stupid luck" in every game we play.
I thought the hair talk was a distraction, so I hit her with a smug smile and a "First of all, skill issue. Just admit I'm better than you."
BIG MISTAKE.
The devil smile came out. Turns out the gaming talk was the real distraction. She whipped out a video of me in a bunny girl outfit from a Mario Kart bet I definitely lost. Then, with the sweetest, most menacing smile, she goes, "I'm feeling something Italian tonight."
So, yeah. Realization hit. I'm currently in the kitchen cooking her pasta. Anyway, enjoy the story while I contemplate my life choices over this boiling water!]
(Manabu POV)
The student council office is usually a sanctuary of order, logic, and the quiet scratching of pens against high-quality paper. It is a room where the future of Advanced Nurturing High School is shaped by discipline and merit.
Or at least, it was, until three minutes ago.
I was finishing the final set of budget reports for the athletic clubs, the silence of the room only broken by the soft ticking of the clock and the rhythmic breathing of my secretary, Akane Tachibana.
Then, it happened.
Rap-tap-tap-tap... rhythm-tap-tap...
It wasn't a normal knock. It was a syncopated, chaotic sequence of strikes against the wood that sounded like a caffeinated woodpecker trying to play a jazz solo. My pen stopped mid-stroke. My brow twitched. My brain instantly accessed a file I had tried to delete from my memory years ago.
Sunny.
"Tachibana," I said, my voice as flat as a desert horizon. "Unlock the door. The disaster has arrived."
Tachibana looked at me, confused. "A disaster, President? Is there a security breach?"
"Worse," I sighed. "It's a childhood friend."
Tachibana walked to the door and turned the handle. The door didn't just open; it exploded inward as Sunny practically glided into the room. He didn't wait for an invitation. He didn't offer a bow. He walked straight to the guest chair, spun it around, and sat on it backward, leaning his chin on the headrest like he was in his own living room.
"Manabu! Brother-in-law! Most Esteemed Leader of the NPC Horde!" Sunny beamed, his silver hair messy from what I assumed was a sprint through the hallways. "You're looking stiff. Have you tried stretching? Or perhaps a personality transplant? I know a guy."
"Sunny," I said, leaning back and crossing my arms. "I see your transition into high school has done nothing to dampen your delusions. To what do I owe the misfortune of this visit? I have work to finish."
Sunny waved a hand dismissively. "Work, work, work. Is that all you do? It's the first day! The sun is shining, the points are flowing, and you're in here sniffing ink." He leaned in, his eyes sparking with that familiar, dangerous mischief. "So, let's get to the real news. How is your love life? Do you still have that 'special' book under your mattress, or did you move it to a safe? Have you confessed to Tachibana yet? Did you feed her? She looks like she's living on caffeine and loyalty, Manabu. It's not sustainable."
Beside me, Tachibana turned a shade of crimson that rivaled a sunset. "I—confess? Special book?! President, what is he talking about?!"
I felt a vein throb in my temple. Sunny was referencing the 'Great Middle School Sabotage.' Years ago, when we were both much younger, Sunny had managed to sneak a collection of... highly questionable adult literature under my pillow. He then 'accidentally' led a twelve-year-old Suzune into my room to find them.
The look of utter, soul-crushing disappointment in my sister's eyes that day was something I had never truly recovered from. She stopped seeing me as a paragon of perfection and started seeing me as a 'degenerate who hides his shame under his bedding.'
Sunny had, of course, recorded the entire confrontation and periodically threatened to leak it to the student body.
"Sunny," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "If you mention the 'Literature Incident' one more time, I will personally see to it that your cafeteria privileges are revoked for the semester."
"Ooh, scary," Sunny chuckled, completely unfazed. He turned his attention to Tachibana, who was currently trying to hide behind a stack of folders. "Don't mind him, Akane-chan. He's just grumpy because he knows I'm the only one who can see through the 'Perfect President' mask. By the way, your hair looks great today. Is that a new clip? Very professional. Very 'I-love-my-boss-but-he's-dense-as-a-neutron-star'."
"I—I—" Tachibana sputtered, her brain clearly melting under Sunny's shameless onslaught.
"Enough," I barked. "Why are you here? If it's just to harass my secretary and bring up my past traumas, the exit is behind you."
Sunny's expression shifted. The playfulness didn't vanish, but it gained a layer of substance. "Fine, fine. Let's talk shop. I'm here to give you an update on your favorite sister. She's had a big day, Manabu. Six months ago, she was just a girl with a chip on her shoulder. Today? She realized her destiny as a trash-talking gamer queen."
I narrowed my eyes. "Suzune? What did she do?"
"She became the leader of Class D before the first period even ended," Sunny said, grinning. "She legally bought a desk for one point just to flex on the teacher, roasted a bully into a coma, and established a class group chat. Last I saw her, she was heading toward the e-sports and gaming clubs. She's planning to milk the upperclassmen for every personal point they have in tournament prize pools. She's a shark, Manabu. A beautiful, sharp-tongued shark."
I sat in silence for a moment, processing this. Suzune... taking a leader role? Establishing herself immediately? This was a radical departure from the girl who sought to isolate herself to prove her worth.
"The e-sports club holds the highest concentration of surplus personal points outside of the student council," I murmured, more to myself than to him. "If she dominates the competitive scene, she could amass enough capital to influence the class rankings by the end of the first semester."
"Exactly," Sunny said. "She's playing the game. Our game."
Tachibana, having recovered slightly, stepped forward and placed a cup of green tea on my desk, and one in front of Sunny. She lingered, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Horikita-san... is doing all that? On the first day?"
"She's a Horikita," Sunny said, winking at her. "We just had to unlock her 'Gamer' DLC."
I looked at Sunny. He was controlling the flow of this conversation, as usual. He hadn't come here just to brag about Suzune. He had an agenda. "Stop, Sunny. I still have work to do. State your business clearly. No more riddles."
Sunny sighed, dramatically flopping back in the chair. "Fine. You want clear? I'll give you clear. But to understand the 'what,' you have to understand the 'how.' And to tell you the 'how,' I need to set the mood."
Suddenly, Sunny's posture changed. He hunched his shoulders, narrowed his eyes, and his voice dropped into a gravelly, Brooklyn 1940s Noir Style.
"Listen here, see? It's a long story, see? About six months back, the streets were cold and the coffee was bitter," Sunny muttered, sounding like he'd stepped straight out of a black-and-white detective movie. "I was mindin' my own business after my interview, see? Just a guy lookin' for a cold drink. I find a vending machine, and what do I see? An interviewer, puffin' on a heater behind the machine like he's hidin' from the feds."
I stared at him. Tachibana stared at him.
"This wiseguy," Sunny continued, gesturing with an invisible cigar, "he's talkin' to another suit. He says there's this kid, see? A rich kid. Name of Rokusuke Kōenji. Says the kid is a 'pompous brat' and he's gonna 'tank' his score on purpose just to teach him a lesson. Says he's gonna bury him in Class D no matter how the tests go. It was a setup, Manabu! A frame job!"
He slammed his hand on the desk. "I didn't understand the racket back then, see? But I recorded it. Three different cloud services, encrypted, and yeah, I tucked a copy under your pillow too, just for old times' sake. That Rokusuke kid? He belongs in Class A. He was robbed!"
Sunny dropped the accent and leaned back, returning to his normal voice. "I filed an official complaint with the school authority this morning before the ceremony. I included the audio and video files. The interviewer was smoking in a non-smoking zone while discussing the intentional manipulation of entrance scores. That's a big no-no for a school that prides itself on 'merit'."
I felt a chill of realization. Kōenji. I had seen his scores. They were... unusual. Incredible physical and mental marks, but a personality evaluation that was shockingly low. If an interviewer had intentionally sabotaged him...
"The school authority is already investigating," I said, my mind racing. "If what you're saying is true—and I know you wouldn't bring this to me without proof—the school will have to compensate him. And you."
"Bingo," Sunny said.
"The board will likely award Kōenji 300,000 personal points as an apology for the placement error," I said, calculating the fallout. "And as the whistleblower, you are entitled to a 100,000-point reward for maintaining the integrity of the school. You'll receive it tomorrow."
Sunny let out a loud, obnoxious groan and whipped his hand through the air as if swatting away a fly. "Ugh! Points! Money! Why do you people always think I want points? I'm already rich in spirit and I've got 100k in the bank from the start. I don't want your charity, Manabu."
I stopped. "You're turning down a hundred thousand points? Then what do you want? There is always something you want, Sunny."
(Sunny POV)
Jackpot.
I saw Manabu's brain short-circuit for a second. He can't comprehend someone not wanting the currency that runs this entire island. But I'm not playing for points. I'm playing for access.
"Points are boring," I said, leaning in, my eyes fixed on the tablet Tachibana was holding. "I want to see the back-end. I want the exchange. I want to see every rule regarding the CCTV cameras on this campus. And I want an anonymous account that can't be traced back to my student ID."
Manabu's eyes narrowed to slits. "An anonymous account is impossible. Every transaction must be logged. However..." He paused, looking at Tachibana. "The rules regarding the surveillance system are technically public record, though they are buried under layers of bureaucratic encryption."
"I can bypass the encryption, Manabu. I just need you to point me to the right server," I grinned.
"I can only give you the rules," Manabu said firmly. "I will not grant you access to the cameras themselves. That would be a breach of privacy that even I cannot authorize."
"The rules will do for now," I said.
Akane Tachibana stepped forward, her hands shaking slightly as she handed me a tablet. "Here. This contains the full bylaws of the security and surveillance department for the first-year wing."
I started scrolling. My eyes moved at a speed that usually makes people think I'm having a seizure. Most of it was boring legal jargon—privacy rights, storage duration, blind spots in the locker rooms (perverts). But then, I found it.
A specific, obscure rule buried in Section 4, Paragraph 12.
Rule 4.12:Surveillance footage from the first-year classrooms and hallways may be purchased or 'rented' for internal review. However, this privilege is restricted exclusively to first-year students and can ONLY be purchased during the first thirty days of the first semester. After the thirtieth day, the archives for the introductory month are locked and can only be accessed by faculty or the Student Council.
I felt a grin spread across my face. "Oh, this is delicious. It's a 'limited time offer' for information. The school is literally inviting us to spy on each other for the first month."
I looked up at Tachibana. "Hey, Akane-chan. There's a story behind this rule, isn't there? It's too specific. It smells like a past student did something legendary. If you tell me the story, I'll tell you a secret."
Manabu cleared his throat. "Tachibana, you don't need to—"
"What secret?" Akane asked, her eyes burning with a sudden, fierce determination. She ignored Manabu entirely. She wanted that 'in.' She wanted to know what made the Ice President tick.
"I'll tell you about Manabu's 'secret fantasies'," I whispered loudly. "The ones he writes about in his private journal. The ones involving a certain secretary and a very specific type of glasses."
"SUNNY!" Manabu roared, standing up so fast his chair hit the wall.
But it was too late. Akane's eyes were already flaming with the power of a thousand suns. She was a woman on a mission. She leaned over the desk, her face inches from mine.
"The rule was created three years ago," she whispered, her voice fast and urgent while Manabu tried to grab the tablet back. "A student in Class B used the first month to record every single conversation in the cafeteria. He used it to blackmail half the school into giving him their points. The school couldn't expel him because he hadn't broken a rule, so they made a rule that says you can only buy the footage in the first month. They thought it would limit the damage. They were wrong."
"Amazing," I cackled. "The history of this place is built on trolls."
I leaned in and whispered into Akane's ear, "He doesn't have a journal, but he does have a folder on his computer labeled 'Budget Reports 2024'. Check the sub-folder 'Appendix C'. The password is your birthday."
Akane's face went from pale to bright crimson in a nanosecond. She looked like she was about to explode.
"I—I—"
"BYE MANABU! THANKS FOR THE READING MATERIAL!"
I didn't wait for the inevitable execution. I turned and bolted out the door, laughing like a maniac. I could hear Manabu shouting behind me and the sound of Tachibana dropping a stack of papers.
I sprinted down the hallway, taking corners like a pro. I had the rules. I had the leverage. And now, I had to go to the mall. Suzune wanted groceries, and I had a feeling I was going to need a lot of energy for whatever she was planning for tonight.
"Appendix C," I muttered to myself, grinning as I hit the sunlight of the campus courtyard. "I can't believe he actually used her birthday as the password. He's so predictably romantic, it's disgusting."
Next stop: The Keyaki Mall. It was time to see if they had any of that limited-edition spicy ramen Suzune likes. And maybe a new headset for me. Being a whistleblower is thirsty work.