Days bled into each other, a monotonous routine punctuated by the approaching holiday cheer. Ayanokoji used the aftermath of the rooftop incident to solidify his hold over Karuizawa.
He employed a subtle approach, weaving reassurance into their conversations. He promised to be her shield, a constant presence in the face of trouble. The trauma had left its mark, but Karuizawa's facade slowly returned, a testament to her resilience.
December 23rd arrived, a crisp air tinged with the excitement of Christmas.
Ayanokoji found himself face-to-face with Sakayanagi Arisu, the enigmatic leader of Class A. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of veiled observations.
Sakayanagi's words hinted at a darker side beneath Ichinose Honami's sunny exterior.
Ayanokoji with his good poker face simply played the role of the uninterested listener.
When she departed with her loyal companion Kamuro Masumi, Ayanokoji dismissed her words as mere speculation.
There were more pressing matters at hand. He spent the remaining daylight hours mingling with his classmates – Ibuki, Ishizaki, and the like.
Their offhand comments painted a clear picture of Ryuen's current state. Defeat had left Ryuen brooding, his usual arrogance dented.
Ibuki challenged Ayanokoji to a rematch. The ensuing fight was a one-sided display of dominance.
Ayanokoji dismantled Ibuki's attacks with practiced ease, the victor leaving his defeated opponent sprawled in a dusty storage room.
This victory, however, wasn't the only one Ayanokoji had in mind.
Ryuen's apathy towards Class D presented a potential problem.
~~
The next morning, Ayanokoji found Ryuen in a desolate corner of the school.
They spoke, Ayanokoji probing the depths of Ryuen's despair.
Ryuen then shared the details of his vision with Ayanokoji.
Ryuen's vision was warped by a potent mix of ambition and anger.
His plan was to gather a staggering 800 million private points and facilitate the graduation of his entire class – remained firmly entrenched. It was his rebellion, his attempt to break the school's oppressive system.
This plan somewhat impressed Ayanokoji as this was certainly a unique way to have his entire class graduate from the Class A.
But the fire that once fueled Ryuen's actions seemed to have dimmed. His defeat at Ayanokoji's hands had left him disillusioned, unsure of his place in the twisted hierarchy.
He confessed his current apathy, his willingness to relinquish the leadership of Class D.
Ayanokoji left him to contemplate his options.
Leaving Ryuen to his own thoughts, Ayanokoji crossed paths with the former Student Council President Horikita Manabu.
The encounter wasn't a coincidence – the favor Ayanokoji owed demanded from Horikita Manabu for the successful implementation of the rooftop incident with Ryuen had to be repaid.
Manabu's task was rather difficult – topple the current Student Council President, Nagumo.
The reason was that Nagumo's expulsion policy was a constant threat to low-performing students, which Horikita Manabu believed that it needed to be dismantled.
This mission presented a challenge. Nagumo wasn't an opponent to be underestimated.
Ayanokoji began formulating a plan. He had pawns in play.
~~
A soft ping pierced the evening silence, the glow of Ayanokoji's phone illuminating his otherwise emotionless face. It was a message, a simple inquiry from Sakura Airi: "Free on Christmas?"
He tapped out a response, a neutral "No plans yet."
Another ping followed, Sakura's reply laced with a hint of anticipation. "Want to spend the day together?"
Ayanokoji considered her request.
Public displays of affection were detrimental to Sakura's image, something he'd already emphasized. He crafted his response carefully: "Didn't we discuss keeping things discreet? It wouldn't reflect well on you."
A brief pause, then another message arrived.
This time, Sakura's words held a sly edge. "No need to go out. How about you come to my room? We can spend the whole Christmas Eve together. No one will be the wiser."
Surprise flickered across Ayanokoji's eyes for a fleeting moment. This wasn't the response he anticipated.
The proposition itself wasn't problematic. In fact, it offered a certain level of convenience. A single text, a simple "Okay," sealed the deal.
Across the dorm, Sakura's room erupted in a silent celebration.
A triumphant fist pump, a squeal of delight muffled by a pillow. Her carefully crafted plan had worked.
Ayanokoji, her lover, would be spending Christmas Eve with her, alone in her room.
The victory dance was short-lived, replaced by a flurry of activity. Preparations had to be made.
~~
(Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's POV)
The designated time arrived. 10:00 AM on Christmas Eve. I stood before Sakura's dorm room, the digital lock silently granting me access. Locking the door behind me, I turned to find her waiting, a radiant smile illuminating her face.
"Kiyotaka," she greeted, her voice tinged with excitement.
A cursory glance revealed a room meticulously decorated for the occasion.
A miniature Christmas tree adorned the corner, sparkling with colorful ornaments. Balloons of red, green, and silver floated playfully around the ceiling. Flower arrangements, strategically placed, added a touch of romanticism. A low table, laden with snacks, chocolates, and two steaming drinks, sat invitingly in the center.
However, one detail snagged my attention – Sakura's attire. The heavy coat, more suited for the biting winter wind outside, seemed out of place in the warmth of her room.
She pulled out a chair with a flourish. "Please, sit."
I complied, gesturing for her to take her own seat.
"I'm so happy you agreed to spend Christmas Eve with me," she chirped, her eyes sparkling with delight.
"My schedule lacked alternative engagements," I replied flatly, avoiding emotional embellishments.
"So, what do you think of the decorations?" she asked, her gaze flitting around the room.
"Very impressive." The agenda for the day remained a mystery. "What have you planned for the duration?" I inquired.
Sakura tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. "Let's start with board games and conversation," she suggested slyly. "The rest of the day's schedule? That'll be a surprise, Kiyotaka."
An element of intrigue was present. Deviation from the norm could provide valuable data. With a silent nod, I agreed to her proposal.
As the morning progressed, the conversation flowed. Topics ranged from mundane college life musings to veiled comments about the school hierarchy. Sakura's observations of her classmates, particularly the girls in Class A, proved insightful.
Victories in the board game fell predominantly on my side, yet Sakura's demeanor remained unfazed. She seemed to take genuine pleasure in my success, an anomaly in my experience. The White Room had taught me a different lesson – failure was a path to discard. Sakura's joy in defeat was a foreign concept, one that piqued my curiosity and fueled my desire to understand her better.
Hours melted away, fueled by snacks and conversation. Soon, we became bored of the board games.
Then, Sakura suggested a movie. I offered no objection.
She disappeared into the kitchen, returning shortly with popcorn and a chilled beverage.
"Movie preparations complete," she declared, a playful smile on her face. "Join me on the bed, Kiyotaka. We can get comfortable there."
An unsettling note resonated within me. Before complying, I addressed the anomaly from earlier. "Why the coat, Sakura? It's quite warm in here."
Her smile faltered for a moment, then widened in realization. "I should have known you'd notice," she chuckled. "Surprise, I guess." She reached for the buttons, slowly unfastening and removing the coat.
My breath hitched. Beneath the coat, a skimpy two-piece bikini barely contained her ample curves. My eyes narrowed, a flicker of something akin to surprise crossing my features.
A slow nod escaped my lips. "Let's watch the movie," I stated simply.
We settled onto the bed, Sakura's body a warm press against my side. A popcorn tray balanced precariously between us with the laptop screen glowing ahead.
The movie played, a mere backdrop to the unfolding scene.
Throughout the movie, Sakura played the role of a doting girlfriend, sensually feeding me popcorn.
Meanwhile, my hands, seemingly of their own volition, began a slow exploration of her exposed skin. The flimsy fabric offered little resistance, and my fingers traced the contours of her body with practiced ease.
The afternoon wore on, the movie a mere backdrop to the escalating intimacy. My touch grew bolder.
Sakura, her breath hitching with every caress, reveled in the attention that I was giving her.