"Senpai, I finished washing your clothes. I'm heading back now."
Seeing Nanase's message, Yukio simply replied with a "Okay," put his phone away, and felt a fresh wave of secondhand embarrassment wash over him.
That last misunderstanding had been cleared up in the end. And honestly—even if Nanase hadn't explained, Yukio would've figured it out soon enough just from the freshly washed shirt and pants already hanging on the balcony.
But ever since that incident, something about Nanase had flipped. For some reason, she insisted on continuing to wash his clothes… and little by little it turned into this routine where she'd show up every day, do laundry like a household pro, then quietly leave.
It was… weirdly dramatic.
"What are you thinking about, Yukio-kun?" Sakayanagi asked from across the student council room, her eyes slightly narrowed like she'd noticed the faint awkwardness on his face.
"Nothing," Yukio said.
They were in the middle of a student council meeting. He wasn't about to let the conversation drift. He tapped the table once—sharp—a clear signal to get on with it.
The student council had two new seats on the left now, meaning two new members had officially joined. Yukio had no reason to turn down anyone who passed Kiriyama's screening—free labor was free labor.
Besides Amasawa from First-Year Class A—who'd joined back at the start of the school year—the other new addition was Yagami from First-Year Class B.
Yukio didn't know much about him yet. All he'd heard from Kiriyama was that Yagami had already unified First-Year Class B, had solid ability, and at minimum had passed the student council's standardized recruitment test—so Yukio brought him in and tossed him work.
Apparently, Yagami was also pretty close with Kushida, one of the student council members. They'd gone to the same middle school, though Yagami was a year below her—Kushida had been in ninth grade while he was in eighth.
Kushida had been nervous Yagami might know about her past… but Yagami acted like he had no clue, and Kushida couldn't exactly do anything reckless without proof.
Among the other first-years, Housen technically also fit the student council profile—he'd unified his class through force, and his personal ability wasn't exactly bad.
But Housen was so terrified of Yukio—the student council president—that he wasn't showing his face even if you dragged him.
Yukio glanced around, then brought up the reason for today's meeting. "The school is going to make our lives miserable again this summer."
"This time, it's a large-scale special exam involving all three grades. Same as usual, we don't know the exact content yet."
"But the student council is allowed to modify two things."
"First: expulsion mitigation. The school gave us a range—three million to six million personal points, from lowest to highest."
"Second: the exam content itself. They didn't reveal details, but they said it'll test all aspects. We're allowed to lock in a few categories as the main evaluation points with heavier weighting—like the training camp exam."
Amasawa and Yagami—despite being new first-years—didn't look surprised at all about having the authority to adjust exam conditions. They'd already memorized that part from the White Room intel.
Everyone else was even less reactive. They were veterans. Calm to the point of boredom. No one spoke first—because everyone was waiting for Yukio to decide.
But the newly added Yagami, seeing the room fall silent, flashed a bright, friendly smile, ready to speak up and take the lead.
In his head, he looked down on Yukio. In Yagami's worldview, if you weren't White Room-born, you were just an ordinary person—no matter what position you held. And he, of course, was the best of White Room Fifth Generation.
Even with Tsukishiro's warnings, Yagami hadn't really taken Yukio seriously.
"Senpai, since the school gave us this authority, I propose we should—"
"?" Ryuen raised an eyebrow, shot a look at Kiriyama like "You didn't teach him the rules?" then turned back with an amused grin.
Kiriyama's stomach dropped. Internally, he cursed Yagami out so hard it could've been a full sermon. The others stayed composed, saying nothing.
Kushida, meanwhile, looked like she was enjoying Yagami's incoming disaster.
Because everyone in that room—aside from Kushida and the two new first-years—already knew the truth.
These meetings looked like discussions… but the final call was usually made by Yukio alone.
If Yukio allowed discussion, it happened. If he didn't, the meeting was basically just him announcing decisions.
So yes, Yagami jumping out first looked proactive—but it didn't matter.
Most of the people sitting here were class leaders themselves. They could all "make proposals." That wasn't the issue.
Yagami had barely gotten a single sentence out before Yukio cut him off.
"Yagami. Your proposal doesn't matter," Yukio said flatly. "For the first item, we set the mitigation cap to the max—six million. I've never seen this rule either, but setting it lower would be ridiculous."
"As for the second item, you can give suggestions."
"…"
Yagami's smile froze for a fraction of a second.
Then he forced it back into place—sunny, friendly, like nothing happened—though it looked a little… tight. Like it required effort.
Inside, Yagami was already screaming.
This student council president—how dare he interrupt me? Does he not know who I am? Does he not know I'm a genius? The best of my generation?
Then he reassured himself.
He's just a normal person playing leader. A frog in a well. He couldn't possibly understand how superior White Room students are.
Fine. One day I'll make him see it.
With that mindset, Yagami kept smiling—and didn't contribute to the second discussion at all. He sat there laughing like a cheerful idiot, nearly slumped in his chair, refusing to say a single word.
Ryuen burst out laughing inside. This junior was honestly hilarious—like a sulky little kid throwing a silent tantrum. He didn't bother with Yagami anymore.
"Then we go with physical ability again," Ryuen said.
Sakayanagi nodded, clearly preferring familiar ground over unknown variables. "And we add an academic component, same as before."
"Then our side will go with group cohesion," Ichinose followed up smoothly.
Horikita didn't try to pull another useless stunt this time. She quietly chose individual capability.
Kiriyama first shot a vicious glare at Yagami—you passed my screening and you're pulling this now?—then turned to Yukio with nervous urgency.
"T-Then I'll add… general knowledge."
"Ehehe—then how about a general encyclopedia quiz?" Amasawa chimed in, pure mischief. She couldn't openly show she and Yagami were connected, so even though she'd internally reacted to his humiliation, she kept her expression innocent.
She didn't care about difficulty. Only fun.