(Third Person's POV)
The next day marked the beginning of the first day of the vacation for the First Year students aboard the Cruise Ship.
As the day unfolded, everyone reveled in the leisure activities available, with the girls indulging in swimming sessions at the pool, showcasing their swimsuits that accentuated their figures.
Observing from a distance, the guys couldn't help but steal glances at the girls, their excitement evident in their expressions.
Amidst the enjoyment, the students dined at the high-class restaurants onboard, savoring the complimentary meals provided.
Even Ayanokoji found himself in one of the ship's restaurants at the moment, where he witnessed an unexpected sight.
Sakura Airi made her entrance, catching his attention immediately.
Unlike her usual appearance, Sakura appeared meticulously groomed, with her glasses nowhere in sight.
Clad in attire that hugged her curves, she exuded a captivating aura, akin to her idol persona, Shizuku.
Her refined appearance left a lasting impression on any boy who laid eyes on her, regardless of their social standing. Her transformation from her usual self to this alluring persona was truly striking.
Boys, captivated by her unexpected transformation, abandoned their meals and conversations, their gazes fixated on her. The air crackled with a newfound curiosity.
Sakura, unaccustomed to such intense attention, seemed flustered. A faint blush crept up her neck as she scanned the room, her eyes widening slightly.
Several boys, emboldened by her beauty, approached her, their voices tinged with a mixture of awe and awkwardness.
"Excuse me," one ventured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Who… who are you?"
Sakura, her voice barely audible amidst the sudden commotion, mumbled a response. "My name is Airi S-Sakura. I'm in Class D."
This simple answer elicited a wave of surprised murmurs. The whispers grew louder, fueled by disbelief.
A second boy, emboldened by the first, leaned forward. "Wait a minute… are you… Shizuku?" He uttered the name hesitantly, as if unsure of his own words.
Sakura nodded hesitantly.
A collective gasp resonated through the room. This one revelation shattered the carefully crafted facade of the shy, unassuming Sakura.
Even the boys from Class D, familiar with her quiet demeanor and thick spectacles, seemed stunned into silence. Their memory, however, slowly jogged, dredging up the image of the unassuming girl who sat in their midst.
The realization struck them like a bolt of lightning – the girl who once hid behind thick spectacles and a self-deprecating demeanor was, in reality, a breathtaking beauty with a past steeped in the world of idols.
The revelation sparked a frenzy. Boys from all classes, propelled by a surge of newfound interest, crowded around Sakura. Their questions, rapid-fire and intrusive, betrayed their shallow curiosity.
"Is it true you were an idol?"
"Why did you quit?"
"Are you going to start again?"
(Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's POV)
Sakura, overwhelmed by the sudden barrage, faltered. Her posture stiffened, a flicker of fear crossing her features. It was a reaction I had anticipated.
However, before the situation could escalate further, the boys of Class D intervened.
Ike swaggered forward, his voice booming with assumed authority.
"Alright, alright, that's enough!" he declared, shoving his way through the throng. "You're freaking out Sakura-san!"
Yamauchi chimed in with feigned concern. "Yeah, give the girl some space! Can't you see she's uncomfortable?"
Sudou growled. "Back off! Don't you see you're bothering her?"
Their words, laced with a thinly veiled territoriality, were hardly motivated by genuine concern.
They saw Sakura's transformation, not as an opportunity for her, but as an opportunity for themselves. They didn't want "pretty boys" from other classes interacting with her, forming connections, or potentially stealing her attention. Their possessiveness, rooted in adolescent insecurity and misplaced ego, was a predictable development.
Observing their charade, I felt a flicker of amusement.
Their actions, while transparent in their motives, served a purpose – they had unwittingly created a buffer zone around Sakura, effectively deflecting the unwanted attention.
Sakura, seemingly grateful for the intervention, offered a small, hesitant smile. A sense of relief flickered across her features. The boys of Class D, basking in the fleeting recognition, puffed out their chests, their self-importance momentarily inflated.
The entire incident unfolded precisely as I had envisioned.
Sakura's transformation, a carefully orchestrated nudge, had yielded the desired outcome. She was no longer the invisible girl, lost in the background.
She was, thanks to my subtle manipulation, the center of attention, a magnet for the shallow affections of the boys.
This newfound popularity, however, was a double-edged sword. While it elevated her social standing within Class D, it also attracted unwanted attention from outside our class.
The challenge now lay in managing this newfound dynamic, ensuring she navigated the treacherous waters of popularity without losing sight of the ultimate objective – her influence over the boys of Class D.
There were, of course, potential benefits to be gleaned from this situation.
The boys, particularly the more easily manipulated ones like Yamauchi and Ike, might become more receptive to Sakura's suggestions and requests.
This, in turn, could tip the scales of influence within the class, subtly shifting the class dynamic in my favor.
The commotion around Sakura reached a fever pitch before a familiar voice cut through the din. "Kushida-san!" someone called out, drawing everyone's attention. It was Horikita, her gaze fixed on the blonde beauty making her way towards the growing crowd.
This development wasn't entirely unexpected. Kushida wouldn't miss an opportunity to capitalize on a situation like this. Her carefully crafted image as the "friend to all" would undoubtedly prompt her to intervene.
As anticipated, Kushida's arrival shifted the focus. A saccharine smile plastered on her face, she weaved through the throng, her voice dripping with feigned concern. "Sakura-chan! Are you alright?" she cooed, placing a hand on Sakura's shoulder. The touch was subtle, yet it served a clear purpose – a display of ownership, a message to the other girls eyeing Sakura.
Sakura, overwhelmed by the sudden attention, looked visibly relieved. "K-Kushida-san," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
Capitalizing on the vulnerability, Kushida launched into a well-rehearsed performance. "Honestly, these boys can be so overwhelming, can't they?" she declared, her voice tinged with mock exasperation. "Why don't you come join me and the others? We'd love to have you."
The invitation, delivered with practiced ease, was a strategic move. By offering inclusion in her already established "Friendship Group," Kushida sought to solidify her control over Sakura. The benefits, for Kushida, were clear – a potentially useful pawn and a way to maintain her carefully constructed image.
Sakura, hesitant but seemingly receptive, glanced around the room. Her eyes landed on me briefly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. Then, with a small nod, she turned back to Kushida. "T-that sounds nice, Kushida-san," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
The chaos in the restaurant slowly subsided. Conversations, fueled by the surprise revelation, buzzed around me. The boys, particularly the less perceptive ones, remained fixated on Sakura's newfound beauty, their adolescent desires masking any deeper understanding.
" Man, who knew Sakura could be that hot?" Ike exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and disappointment. "Talk about a transformation!"
Yamauchi chimed in. "Yeah, seriously! I was actually trying to get with her, you know, after giving up on Kushida. She seemed like an easy target back then, all shy and stuff. Never imagined she was hiding all that beauty under those glasses." A hint of bitterness laced his voice, a testament to his misplaced sense of entitlement.
"She's way out of your league now, dude," Ike snickered. "There's no way you'd have a shot with her, not with all those other guys drooling all over her."
Sudou remained unfazed by Sakura's transformation. His disinterest, however, wasn't a mystery. His unwavering crush on Horikita remained a constant, making him impervious to Sakura's newfound allure.
Suddenly, Yamauchi turned his attention towards me, a smug grin twisting his features. "Even you, Ayanokouji," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension, "won't be able to get close to her now. Not with all these guys after her."
The implication hung heavy in the air – that despite my perceived closeness to Sakura, her newfound popularity negated any potential advantage I might have had. I met his gaze unflinchingly, a subtle smirk playing on my lips. There was no point in dignifying his childish jab with a response.
Ike, oblivious to the undercurrent between us, jumped into the fray. "Yeah, Ayanokouji's probably gonna have to find himself another invisible girl to hang out with!" he chuckled, nudging me with his elbow.
Their taunts washed over me, eliciting only a flicker of amusement. The truth, hidden in plain sight, remained beyond their limited understanding. Sakura's transformation, a carefully orchestrated nudge on my part, was far from complete. The game had only just begun.
The conversation eventually shifted to another topic, their shallow attention spans easily swayed by the next shiny object. Just then, my phone buzzed, a gentle vibration drawing my attention. It was a notification – an email from an unexpected source: Sakura Airi.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. The contents of the message were brief but clear: "Ayanokouji-kun, could you meet me in my room? There's something I need to talk about."
A curious development, to be sure.
Yamauchi and Ike, oblivious to the silent exchange taking place, remained blissfully unaware of the object of their newfound affections requesting a private audience with me.
Their reaction, were they to learn the truth, would be a sight to behold – a mix of jealousy and disbelief, perhaps even despair.
The situation presented an amusing prospect, one I would certainly file away for future amusement.
I excused myself from the table with a nonchalant, "I'll be back in a moment." Their responses were a predictable chorus of grunts and dismissive gestures, their attention already snagged by a group of giggling girls strolling through the restaurant. Slipping away unnoticed, I made my way towards the designated floor.
The journey to her room was uneventful. Standing outside her door, I waited patiently, my gaze fixed on the polished wood. Sakura, I knew, would need to extricate herself from Kushida's clutches before returning. The wait wasn't long.
The corner of my eye caught a flash of movement as Sakura rounded the corner, a hint of excitement flickering across her features at the sight of me. She hurried towards her room, her steps light and purposeful. Reaching the door, she fumbled with the key for a moment before it swung open, revealing a glimpse of the neatly decorated interior.
"Ayanokouji-kun," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Come in."
Stepping inside, I felt the door silently click shut behind me, muffling the distant sounds of the cruise. Sakura stood before me, her posture stiff and her gaze flickering nervously. Then, in a rush of words that tumbled over each other, she blurted out the question that had evidently been burning a hole in her mind.
"Ayanokouji-kun… was it… was it what you wanted?" Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the vulnerability beneath her carefully constructed facade. "Do you… do you think I've changed enough?"
I held her gaze steadily, a carefully measured pause allowing her anxiety to simmer.
A single, curt nod was all the response I deemed necessary. It was a calculated move, a deliberate withholding of emotional affirmation.
She craved validation, a confirmation that her transformation met my expectations.
Granting it readily wouldn't serve my purposes.
Sakura's face fell slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features. However, she quickly recovered, a newfound determination hardening her eyes.
"I… I'll try harder," she stammered, her voice regaining some of its former strength. "I can be more confident, more outgoing. Just tell me what you need me to do."
The eagerness in her voice was both predictable and somewhat disconcerting. Her transformation, while impressive, still lacked a certain nuance.
She craved direction, a sense of purpose beyond simply pleasing me. This, however, could be exploited.
"Confidence is a valuable asset," I began, my voice devoid of inflection. "But it shouldn't be a mask. There's a difference between genuine self-assurance and a performance."
Sakura bit her lip, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I understand," she murmured. "But… how can I tell the difference?"
This was the crux of the matter. Guiding her towards genuine confidence would require a delicate touch. She needed to discover this strength within herself, not simply mimic it.
"Observe," I instructed, gesturing towards the window. "Look outside. What do you see?"
Sakura, unsure of my intentions, walked towards the window and peered out at the vast expanse of the ocean bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. "The… the ocean?" she replied tentatively.
"Indeed," I continued. "The vastness of it, the power it holds. Does it feel the need to boast about its existence?"
Sakura stared at the ocean for a long moment, a thoughtful expression settling on her face. "No," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible. "It just… is."
A calm look remained on my face. "Confidence," I explained, "is like that. It's a quiet strength, an awareness of your capabilities. It doesn't require constant validation or boisterous displays."
Sakura turned back to me, a newfound understanding dawning in her eyes. "So… being myself, with a bit more… self-belief, that's what you want?"
"Not entirely," I replied, my words measured. "You are a valuable asset, Sakura. Your influence within Class D will then be… persuasive. Confidence will amplify that influence. And I will be even more happy with that."
Her expression remained thoughtful, the implications of my words sinking in. She wasn't simply transforming for herself; she was becoming a pawn in a larger game.
I see," she finally said.