Chapter 14: The Next Move

Saori's POV

The morning sunlight poured into my room, illuminating the mess of notes, half-finished flyers, and crumpled paper scattered across my desk. Normally, the sight would motivate me. Normally, I'd take it as a sign to double down and push harder.

But today, I just sat there, staring blankly at the clutter, my pen tapping uselessly against the table.

"You're perfect just the way you are."

His voice echoed in my head like an annoying song I couldn't turn off.

Perfect? Me? Perfect at what? At screwing up in front of the entire school? At letting my emotions boil over? Perfect at giving everyone—including Riser Nafutori—the satisfaction of seeing me at my weakest?

I slammed my notebook shut with a sharp thud, glaring at it like it was the source of all my problems.

"Who does he think he is?" I muttered under my breath.

For the hundredth time, my thoughts drifted back to that stupid conversation yesterday. The way he looked at me—not with pity, but with something else. Something warmer. Kinder.

And that stupid smile of his.

Ugh.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Why am I even thinking about this?"

But the more I tried to stop, the more the memories replayed in my head. The way he sat next to me, quietly. The way he said I didn't need to change for anyone. The way his cheeks turned red when he told me I was fine as I was.

And, of course, the way he smiled at me afterward.

I felt my face heat up again, and this time, I couldn't blame the sunlight.

"Stop it," I whispered harshly to myself. "Stop blushing over that idiot."

I shook my head and stood up, pacing my room to try and shake off the embarrassment. But it didn't work. No matter how much I tried to distract myself, my mind kept wandering back to him.

What was it about Riser Nafutori that made him so… unforgettable?

It's not like he's special or anything, I thought bitterly, crossing my arms. He's a lazy, carefree joker who doesn't take anything seriously.

And yet…

And yet, he somehow managed to make everyone feel better just by being around. Even me.

I groaned again, flopping back onto my chair. "I hate him," I muttered.

But the words felt hollow, even to me.

The sound of footsteps outside my door snapped me out of my thoughts. A moment later, my maid's voice called out, "Miss Saori, breakfast is ready! And if you don't leave soon, you'll be late for school!"

"Got it!" I called back, trying to sound more put together than I felt.

I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. The sight of my family's luxurious dining room greeted me—gleaming marble floors, ornate chandeliers, a table big enough to seat twenty.

And not a single person to fill it, except me.

I paused at the doorway, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag.

It didn't bother me. Not really. I was used to it.

But sometimes, on mornings like this, it felt a little too quiet.

I shook off the thought and grabbed a piece of toast from the table, ignoring the full spread of gourmet breakfast my maid had prepared. "I'll eat on the way," I said, already heading for the door.

"Take care, Miss Saori!" she called after me.

The walk to school was uneventful at first. The streets were busy, as always, with students heading to class and commuters rushing to work. But as I rounded a corner near the park, something—no, someone—caught my eye.

A scruffy-looking homeless man sat on the bench, holding a hand-painted sign that read: "Help a guy out. Even a smile is appreciated!"

I tried to walk past without making eye contact, but his gravelly voice stopped me.

"Hey, miss!" he called out cheerfully.

I hesitated, then turned reluctantly. "Yes?"

"Do you happen to know Riser Nafutori?"

The question caught me so off guard that I nearly dropped my bag. "W-What?"

He grinned, revealing a surprisingly intact set of teeth. "That red-haired fella. He's a friend of mine. Always stops by to chat and brings me food. Nice guy."

Of course. Of course, Riser would have fans in every corner of the city. Even the homeless.

"I… uh…" I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. "Yes, I know him. He's in my class."

The man's grin widened. "Well, aren't you lucky! That guy's a real hero, you know. Makes everyone smile, even folks like me."

I plastered on a tight smile, though my stomach churned with irritation. "Right. Hero. Got it."

As I turned to leave, he added, "You should thank him for me next time you see him!"

I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to stay polite. "Will do. Have a good day."

I walked away quickly, muttering under my breath. "Unbelievable. He's even got the homeless population wrapped around his finger."

By the time I reached the school gates, my mood had soured further. I headed straight to the campaign room, where my small but dedicated team was already waiting.

"Morning, Saori!" one of them greeted, flashing me a bright smile. "Ready to strategize?"

I nodded, setting my bag down and pulling out my notebook. "Let's get started."

The session went as smoothly as it could, given the circumstances. My team was enthusiastic, throwing out ideas and debating the best ways to win over the undecided voters.

But even as I focused on their words, my mind kept drifting.

Why is everyone so obsessed with Riser?

It wasn't just the students. It wasn't just the teachers. It wasn't just the random homeless man at the park.

It was… everyone.

I couldn't understand it. No matter how hard I tried to wrap my head around it, the answer always eluded me.

But I pushed the thought aside, forcing myself to stay focused.

This campaign wasn't about Riser.

It was about me.

.....

If there was one thing I knew about Hana Nafutori, it was this: she was chaos incarnate.

And now, thanks to her brother's "brilliant" punishment, she was my chaos incarnate.

"Alright, Princess," she said, plopping down into the seat beside me in the campaign room. "What's the plan for today?"

"First of all," I began, not bothering to hide my irritation, "stop calling me Princess."

"Why?" Hana grinned, propping her chin on her hand. "It suits you. All high and mighty, walking around like you own the place. It's cute."

"It's insulting," I snapped, flipping open my notebook.

"Same thing."

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Look, I don't have time for your antics, okay? We have work to do."

"Work?" She perked up, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "Ooh, are we plotting something evil? Like sabotaging my brother's campaign?"

"No," I said firmly. "We're focusing on legitimate strategies. Unlike some people, I don't resort to underhanded tactics."

Hana pouted. "Boo. You're no fun."

I ignored her and started outlining the day's tasks. "First, we need to finalize the posters. Then, we'll focus on—"

"Posters?" Hana interrupted, leaning over to peek at my notes. "Lame. If you want people to notice you, you need to go big."

"Big how?"

She smirked, and I immediately regretted asking.

Ten minutes later, I found myself standing in the middle of the courtyard, dressed in the most ridiculous costume I'd ever seen: a giant, pink crown made out of cardboard and glitter.

"This," I said through gritted teeth, "is not what I meant by going big."

Hana clapped her hands together, looking far too pleased with herself. "It's perfect! You're literally a princess now. The voters will eat it up!"

"I look like a mascot for a candy store," I muttered, glaring at my reflection in a nearby window.

"Exactly!" she said brightly. "Sweet, approachable, and totally unforgettable."

I was about to argue when a group of first-years walked by, giggling and pointing at me.

"Look, it's Princess Saori!" one of them exclaimed.

"She's so cool!" another said, snapping a photo with her phone.

Hana grinned smugly. "Told you it'd work."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "This is humiliating."

"Humiliating? Maybe. Effective? Definitely."

By the time we returned to the campaign room, I was thoroughly exhausted—both physically and emotionally.

"Okay," I said, collapsing into a chair. "No more crazy ideas. We're sticking to the original plan."

"Boring," Hana said, flopping onto the couch.

"It's called being practical," I shot back.

"It's called being boring," she retorted.

Despite our constant bickering, I couldn't deny that Hana was… helpful. In her own chaotic way, she brought a fresh perspective to the campaign.

She wasn't afraid to take risks, and as much as I hated to admit it, some of her ideas actually worked.

Like the time she convinced me to hand out homemade cookies during lunch. I thought it was a terrible idea—who had time to bake cookies during a campaign? But somehow, she made it happen, and the students loved it.

"Why are you even helping me?" I asked one afternoon, genuinely curious.

She shrugged, her expression uncharacteristically serious. "Because my brother told me to."

"That's it?"

She hesitated, then added, "And because I think you might actually be good at this. Eventually."

I blinked, surprised. "That almost sounded like a compliment."

"Don't get used to it, Princess," she said, smirking.

Over time, our arguments became less heated and more… playful.

She still called me Princess, but it didn't bother me as much. And I started to see her not just as Riser's annoying little sister, but as someone who genuinely cared about the school—and her brother.

One evening, as we were finishing up some flyers, I glanced over at her. "You really believe in him, don't you?"

She looked up, her expression softening. "Of course I do. He's my brother."

Her words stayed with me long after she left for the night.

For all her teasing and chaos, Hana had a big heart. She cared about Riser more than anyone else, and I could see why he valued her so much.

And, though I'd never admit it aloud, I was starting to value her too.

...….

Ending

Saori's POV

The campaign room was buzzing with energy. Posters were stacked in the corner, half-finished slogans were scribbled on whiteboards, and my team was scattered across the room debating last-minute strategies.

Hana, of course, was at the center of the chaos.

"Okay, hear me out!" she announced, standing on a chair like she was commanding an army. "We dress up as ninjas and crash Riser's lunch period. Steal his bento box, make it dramatic—maybe throw some smoke bombs for effect. Instant popularity boost!"

"Absolutely not," I said flatly, yanking her down from the chair before she hurt herself. "This is a campaign, not a circus."

"Exactly!" Hana shot back, unfazed. "Campaigns are boring. People love a good spectacle."

One of the other team members, a girl named Ayumi, giggled nervously. "I mean… she's not wrong. It would get people talking."

I shot her a glare, and she immediately busied herself with a stack of flyers.

"We're not doing anything ridiculous," I said firmly. "Our focus should be on substance. Policies, plans, professionalism—"

"Boring," Hana interjected, drawing out the word like she was allergic to it.

I ignored her and pointed to the flyers. "Has everyone finished distributing these?"

Kenji, a third-year who'd joined the team because, in his words, "You're way prettier than Riser," raised his hand sheepishly. "Uh, almost. I got distracted… talking to some first-years."

"Talking or flirting?" I asked, crossing my arms.

He grinned. "Can't it be both?"

I sighed. "This is why we're behind schedule."

Hana snickered from the corner. "You've got a real A-team here, Princess."

Before I could respond, the classroom door slid open, and the very subject of our campaign strolled in like he owned the place.

Riser Nafutori.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

He held up a stack of my campaign flyers, waving them like a flag. "Just helping out," he said with a grin. "Figured I'd save you some time and pass these out myself."

The room went silent, every pair of eyes darting between him and me.

"You what?" I managed to say, my voice rising.

He shrugged, completely unfazed. "You looked busy, so I thought I'd lend a hand. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?"

"This isn't teamwork!" I snapped, snatching the flyers from his hand. "This is sabotage!"

"Sabotage? Nah," he said, leaning casually against the desk. "I'm just being neighborly. You're welcome, by the way."

Hana, ever the instigator, burst out laughing. "Oh, this is gold. You're practically campaigning for her, big bro."

Riser winked at her. "What can I say? I believe in supporting strong candidates."

I could feel my blood boiling. "You're unbelievable."

"And you're welcome," he said again, his grin widening.

Before I could launch into a tirade, Ayumi timidly raised her hand. "Um, President Nafutori? Why aren't you, uh… campaigning for yourself?"

Riser turned to her, his expression softening. "Because I don't have to," he said simply.

The confidence in his voice was maddening.

"And why's that?" I asked, crossing my arms.

He looked at me, his red eyes gleaming with that infuriating mix of charm and sincerity. "Because whether I'm president or not, I'll still be here to help. Titles don't matter. People do."

The room fell silent again, but this time, it wasn't because of shock or confusion.

Even my team—my team—looked impressed.

I hated it.

But I also couldn't deny that, deep down, I was starting to understand why people loved him so much.

Riser pushed off the desk and headed for the door, turning back with a lazy wave. "Good luck, Princess. I'm rooting for you."

"You're rooting for your competition?" I asked incredulously.

He grinned. "Even idiots can make great leaders."

Before I could think of a comeback, he was gone, leaving the room in a stunned silence.

Hana broke it first, laughing so hard she nearly fell out of her chair. "Oh, man. He's so in your head, Princess."

I ignored her, staring at the stack of flyers in my hand.

For once, I had no idea what to say.