Chapter 10: The Debate Unfolds

Saori's POV

The auditorium was buzzing, packed with students eager to see the so-called "great debate." My nerves felt like a tightly coiled spring, but I forced myself to appear calm and collected. This was my moment to shine, to prove to everyone—especially him—that I was the right choice for Student Council President.

Riser stood at the opposite podium, hands in his pockets and a lazy grin plastered on his face. It was infuriating how he could look so casual when so much was at stake.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Principal Kondo's overly enthusiastic voice boomed through the microphone. "Welcome to the Student Council Presidential Debate! Let's give a round of applause for our two candidates: Saori Dolorez and Riser Nafutori!"

The audience clapped, some cheering loudly. I could swear half the cheers were for Riser, even though he hadn't done anything yet.

"And as your humble principal," Kondo continued, "I'll be moderating today. Let's keep things clean, fair, and most importantly—entertaining!"

Entertaining? Wasn't this supposed to be a serious debate?

The Opening Statements

Principal Kondo gestured toward me. "Miss Dolorez, you may start with your opening statement."

I stepped forward, clasping my hands lightly in front of me, and looked out at the sea of expectant faces. "Thank you, Principal Kondo," I began, projecting confidence. "Fellow students, I stand before you today because I believe in this school's potential. Together, we can build a more structured, supportive environment where every student can thrive."

There were scattered claps, a few approving nods. Good—this was the reaction I wanted.

"Thank you, Miss Dolorez," Kondo said, turning to Riser. "Mr. Nafutori, your opening statement?"

Riser stepped forward, resting his elbows casually on the podium. "Hey, everyone. First off, who's excited about pizza day tomorrow?"

The audience erupted into laughter. Even Principal Kondo chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand.

My jaw tightened. "This is supposed to be a serious debate, Riser," I hissed under my breath.

"Pizza is serious," he replied, not missing a beat.

The crowd roared again.

The Debate Progresses

I laid out detailed points about my plans—how we could improve school policies, create better communication between students and teachers, and establish programs that benefited everyone.

Riser, on the other hand, seemed to be winging it.

"Leadership," he said at one point, leaning against his podium, "is like ordering fries at a fast-food place. You think you know what you want, but halfway through, you're stealing your friend's onion rings. It's about adaptability, folks."

The crowd laughed so hard I thought someone might fall out of their seat. Even Principal Kondo had to wipe tears from his eyes.

Meanwhile, I stood there, seething. Why were they eating this up?

The Personal Question

"As we near the end of this debate," Principal Kondo said, "we have a special question submitted by a student." He held up a small card, reading it dramatically. "Why do you want to be Student Council President?"

The room fell silent.

Kondo gestured to me first. "Miss Dolorez, your answer?"

I stepped forward, taking a deep breath. "I want to be president because I believe in the potential of this school," I said firmly. "With proper leadership, we can achieve so much more. My goal is to create a system where every student feels supported, valued, and heard—a system that fosters growth, success, and unity."

The audience clapped, and for a moment, I felt the pride swell in my chest. I had nailed it.

"Thank you, Miss Dolorez," Kondo said, turning to Riser. "Mr. Nafutori?"

Riser walked to his podium, stuffing his hands in his pockets as usual. "Why do I want to be president?" he repeated, his voice light, almost like he was musing to himself.

He paused, looking out at the crowd, and for the first time, I saw his grin falter.

"Honestly? I don't think I ever really wanted the title," he said, his tone softer. "I just… saw things that needed fixing and figured, hey, someone's gotta do it."

The auditorium was silent, everyone hanging on his every word.

"When I first got here, this school felt like a place where everyone was just… surviving," he continued. "No one seemed happy. People kept their heads down, went through the motions, and left at the end of the day without really living. And I couldn't stand that."

I found myself leaning forward, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice.

"So, I started doing what I could," he said. "Helping out where I was needed, listening to people, trying to make things a little brighter. And yeah, sometimes that meant breaking a few rules or making a fool of myself." He grinned suddenly. "Okay, a lot of times."

The audience laughed, but the moment didn't lose its weight.

"It's not about the title or the power," he said, his tone serious again. "It's about making this place a little better every day. And if that means being president, then sure, I'll do it. But if someone else can do it better, I'm okay with that too. Because it's not about me—it's about all of us."

The applause was deafening.

I stood there, frozen, as the realization hit me. Riser's words weren't rehearsed or calculated. They were just… him. And somehow, that made them more impactful than anything I could have said.

At that point… I felt ashamed.

...

Saori's POV

Principal Kondo stepped forward, his microphone squealing slightly as he adjusted it. The room was still buzzing from the debate, the students' chatter a mix of laughter, admiration, and whispered debates of their own.

"Well," he began, his cheerful tone already making my stomach churn. "That was quite the show! I think we can all agree this debate has been one of the highlights of the school year."

The audience erupted into applause again, and I forced myself to keep a neutral expression, even as my chest tightened.

"But," Kondo continued, raising his hands to quiet the crowd, "after careful consideration, I've come to a conclusion: both candidates have presented equally valid points. Therefore, the debate ends in a tie!"

A tie.

The words hit me like a slap to the face. I felt the blood drain from my cheeks as the audience cheered once more, as if this were some kind of victory for everyone.

But it wasn't. Not for me.

Riser was already leaning against his podium, grinning like he didn't have a care in the world. He caught my eye and gave me a casual thumbs-up, as if to say, Good job out there, Dolorez.

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I plastered on a tight smile, nodding back before turning away. My hands clenched the edge of the podium, the polished wood digging into my palms.

After the Debate

I slipped out of the auditorium as soon as the principal dismissed everyone. My campaign team called after me, but I couldn't face them. Not yet.

By the time I reached the empty hallway, my composure was starting to crack. I pressed my back against the cold wall, staring at the ceiling as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.

How had it come to this?

I had spent weeks preparing, crafting the perfect arguments, memorizing every detail that could possibly matter. I had been ready for this.

But none of it had mattered.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "It's not fair," I whispered to no one.

The worst part wasn't losing. The worst part wasn't even the tie.

The worst part was that I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Riser Nafutori, with his infuriating grin and his effortless charm. His casual answers that somehow landed exactly where they needed to. The way people lit up around him, like he was some kind of human beacon.

I hated it.

I hated how he could make people laugh and feel seen without even trying. I hated how his words carried weight even when they seemed so light.

But most of all, I hated how I was starting to understand it.

I sank to the floor, burying my face in my hands.

The election wasn't about being the best on paper. It wasn't about perfect arguments or detailed plans.

It was about connection.

And Riser… he had that in spades.

"Why am I even doing this?" I whispered, my voice cracking.

My chest felt tight, like a rubber band stretched too far. I could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but I blinked them back, refusing to let myself break. Not yet.

I had come this far. I had to see it through.

Even if it was tearing me apart.

Riser's POV

Later that evening, I sat on the rooftop of the school, legs dangling over the edge as the cool breeze rustled my hair. The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. It was the perfect backdrop for some much-needed reflection.

I stretched my arms behind my head, thinking back to the debate. Saori had been… surprising.

Her arguments had been airtight, her delivery flawless. She'd commanded the stage with an authority I couldn't help but admire. And while her approach wasn't exactly my style—boring and rigid came to mind—I couldn't deny its effectiveness.

"She's really something," I muttered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

For the first time, I found myself seeing her as more than just a rival.

Her determination was… inspiring, in a way. She cared so deeply about doing things the "right" way, about creating order and structure, about making the school a better place.

It was so different from my own philosophy. I'd always believed in making life fun, in bringing people together through laughter and shared moments of joy. But maybe… maybe there was room for both approaches.

I shook my head, letting out a small laugh. "What am I even thinking?"

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that the school needed someone like her. Someone who could bring balance to my chaos.

A part of me began to form a plan—an idea of how we might work together, how her strengths could complement mine. But then I stopped myself.

"No," I said aloud, leaning back against the rooftop tiles. "Let's wait until after the election. One thing at a time, Riser."

The thought lingered, though. I respected her. More than I'd realized before. And not just for her ideas or her intelligence.

I respected her determination, her unwillingness to back down, even when everything seemed stacked against her.

And then there was the way she'd looked during the debate—her pale blue eyes lit up with passion, her voice steady and clear, her pink hair catching the light like some kind of anime protagonist.

My cheeks grew warm, and I quickly slapped a hand to my face. "What is wrong with me?"

I shook the thought away, reminding myself of my role. I wasn't here to admire anyone. I was here to do my job, to help the school, and to make sure everyone had a good time along the way.

I stood up, brushing off my pants and stretching. The stars were starting to peek out, and the cool night air felt refreshing against my skin.

"Two weeks until the election," I murmured to myself. "Let's see how this plays out."

With that, I turned and headed back down the stairs, a faint smile tugging at my lips.