We'd barely gotten through ten minutes of planning before Saori let out her first sigh of exasperation. It was long, dramatic, and just loud enough to make sure I noticed.
"Do you even take this seriously?" she asked, fixing me with her signature glare.
"Of course I do," I replied, lounging back in my chair with a grin. "I just think it's important to keep things fun, y'know? A happy brain is a productive brain."
Saori narrowed her eyes. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"Ridiculous, but true!" I said, pulling out a blank notebook. "Alright, Miss Serious, let's get started. How about you decide what we should focus on first?"
She raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting me to hand over control so easily. "Fine," she said, sitting up straighter. "We need to organize the structure of our presentation. Leadership styles across cultures require thorough research, clear examples, and concise analysis."
"Wow," I said, blinking. "You even managed to make that sound boring."
Her pen froze mid-note, and she shot me a sharp look. "It's called being prepared, Riser. Something you clearly don't understand."
"Hey, I'm plenty prepared!" I said, holding up my notebook. "I've got a pen and… oh, look at that—a blank page. The possibilities are endless."
She groaned, rubbing her temples like I was giving her a headache. "This is impossible."
"Impossible? Nah," I said with a smirk. "You just need to loosen up a little. Here, I'll write the first idea."
I grabbed the pen and scribbled something at the top of the page:
How to Lead Like a Boss: The Fun and Easy Way.
Saori stared at the title, her lips tightening. "You're joking."
"Not at all," I said, tapping the page. "It's catchy, isn't it? People love catchy."
"This isn't a sales pitch," she snapped. "We're supposed to analyze leadership styles, not advertise your ridiculous approach to life."
"Why not both?" I said with a shrug. "People learn better when they're entertained. Trust me, Saori, I know how to work a crowd."
Her patience was visibly wearing thin. "This isn't about working a crowd. It's about presenting meaningful research with credibility and depth."
"Exactly," I said, leaning forward. "And what's more credible than someone who actually gets stuff done? My methods may look messy, but they work. Ask anyone."
"Messy is an understatement," she muttered.
I could see the frustration bubbling beneath her composed exterior, but she didn't storm off. Not yet. Instead, she stared at the notebook, lips pursed, like she was trying to decide whether to argue further or just write me off entirely.
"Look," I said, softening my tone. "How about we meet in the middle? You handle the research part, and I'll work on making the presentation engaging. Deal?"
She glared at me for a moment before letting out a reluctant sigh. "Fine. But if you mess this up, I'm doing the whole thing myself."
"No pressure," I said, flashing her a grin. "This is gonna be great. Trust me."
Her expression said she trusted me about as far as she could throw me.
"Alright," I said, stretching my arms overhead as we wrapped up our notes for the day. "I think we've done enough work to call this a success. Don't you agree?"
Saori stared at the measly half-page of notes we'd managed to put together, her lips tightening into a sharp, disapproving line. "You call this success?"
"Absolutely," I replied with a grin. "Half the battle is starting. The other half is… well, probably something else, but we'll figure it out tomorrow."
Her eye twitched, and I could practically hear her patience snapping. "That's not how projects work, Nafutori. You need structure, clear goals, and a plan—"
"Plans are boring," I cut in, waving her off. "Anyway, why don't I show you around the school? You're new here, and as your gracious guide, I feel obligated to give you the full tour."
"I don't need a tour," she said sharply, packing up her things with the efficiency of someone who was determined not to waste another second with me.
"Need? No. But want? Obviously." I was already at the door, motioning for her to follow with my most carefree smile.
She let out an exasperated sigh, clearly debating whether to humor me or leave. "Fine. But only because I'm curious to see what kind of disaster you're running here."
"Disaster? Oh, you wound me, Dolorez," I said, pressing a hand to my chest in mock offense. "You'll see—I'm the glue holding this place together."
We hadn't made it far before trouble found us. It always does.
A first-year girl came rushing up to me, clutching her notebook like her life depended on it. Tears were already welling up in her eyes. "President Nafutori!" she cried. "I forgot to finish my essay for Mr. Kaneda, and it's due in ten minutes! He's going to kill me!"
I crouched slightly to meet her gaze, softening my expression to put her at ease. "Hey, hey, no need to panic. I've got a foolproof plan."
Behind me, I could feel Saori's judgmental glare boring into the back of my head. "Let me guess," she said dryly. "You're going to tell her to actually finish her work next time?"
"Nope," I replied smoothly, turning my attention back to the girl. "Here's what you're gonna do: march into that classroom and tell Mr. Kaneda the absolute truth."
She blinked at me. "The truth?"
"That's right. Tell him you spent so much time trying to make the essay perfect that you lost track of time."
"That's ridiculous," Saori cut in, her voice sharp. "He'll see right through that."
"Exactly!" I said with a grin. "And then, when he gives you the lecture about not overthinking, you hit him with the puppy eyes and ask for an extension. Works every time."
The girl hesitated for a moment, but then a small, tentative smile broke through her tears. "You really think that'll work?"
"Trust me," I said, ruffling her hair lightly. "You've got this."
She nodded, her confidence miraculously restored, and hurried off.
"That's not how you handle things," Saori snapped the moment the girl was out of earshot. "You just gave her terrible advice."
"Terrible? Nah. Fun, definitely."
She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Unbelievable."
The next stop on my totally professional tour was the music club's room. As expected, chaos was brewing there, too. Two members were locked in a heated argument.
"I told you I reserved the room for today!" one of them said, his face red with frustration.
"And I told you I also reserved it," the other shot back.
"Gentlemen!" I said, stepping between them with the air of a benevolent king. "Let's settle this like civilized people."
From the corner of my eye, I caught Saori's rare flicker of hope. "Finally, some actual leadership—"
"Rock, paper, scissors," I declared, holding up my hand.
"You've got to be kidding me," Saori muttered.
The two club members blinked at me, then shrugged. "Best two out of three?" one of them asked.
"Best two out of three," I confirmed with a nod.
They launched into their game with surprising intensity, and I turned to walk away.
"You're just… leaving?" Saori asked, incredulous.
"They're solving it themselves," I said casually. "I just expedited the process."
"That's not solving it! They're going to argue about this again tomorrow!"
"Then I'll see them tomorrow," I replied with a shrug.
Her frustrated growl was almost musical. "How are you even the president of this school?!"
By the time we reached the courtyard, she looked like she was ready to strangle me.
"You don't take anything seriously, do you?" she snapped.
"Of course I do," I said, grinning. "I take fun very seriously."
"That's not what I mean!" she hissed. "People are coming to you for help, and you're just… laughing everything off! You're a student council president, not some class clown! Do you even care about solving their problems?"
"Every problem has a solution," I said with a shrug. "Mine just happen to be more… creative."
Her fists clenched at her sides. "You're a useless loser," she said through gritted teeth.
"Hey, everyone's entitled to their opinion," I said lightly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a very important meeting with the snack machine."
She stared at me, stunned, as I turned and sauntered off like nothing had happened.
Saori's POV:
Later, as I wandered through the school, still fuming over Riser's ridiculous antics, I couldn't help but overhear two girls chatting by the lockers, their laughter ringing out.
"Riser told me to just go for it, and guess what? I actually asked him out!" one of them said, practically glowing.
"And? What did he say?" the other girl asked, leaning in eagerly.
"He said no, but he did it in the nicest way possible. He even gave me advice on how to confess next time."
I frowned, my pace slowing.
Further down the hall, I spotted the two music club members from earlier—the ones who'd been seconds away from tearing each other apart. They were laughing now, chatting like old friends as if the argument had never happened.
Even the first-year girl with the unfinished essay was sitting on a bench nearby, surrounded by friends, her face lit up with a smile.
I clenched my fists at my sides. The results were undeniable. Somehow, his carefree nonsense actually worked. But no matter how much I saw, I couldn't bring myself to believe in his way of doing things.
I wasn't stalking him. That would imply I cared about what Riser Nafutori did after school, which I absolutely didn't.
It was curiosity—academic curiosity, if anything. How could someone who ran the school like a theme park have any semblance of order in his life? What did he do when no one was watching? Did his life match the chaos he brought to school?
So there I was, standing just beyond the school gate, watching as he strolled down the street like the world belonged to him. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his steps slow and easy, as if time itself bent to his will.
I trailed him at a distance. Not close enough to be obvious, but close enough to keep him in sight. He greeted every shopkeeper, every student, and even a stray dog like they were lifelong friends.
"What a phony," I muttered under my breath.
At one point, he stopped at a small bakery and walked out with an oversized bag of pastries. I pressed myself against the corner of a building, glaring at him as he crossed the street.
"What does he even need all that for? Is he hoarding food now?"
He continued on, completely oblivious to my presence. But as the streets grew quieter and the buildings older, I found myself slowing down. The lively storefronts gave way to cracked windows and faded signs. The air smelled faintly of rust and smoke, the kind of scent that clung to your clothes.
"What is he doing in a place like this?" I whispered.
I followed him as far as the alleyway where he disappeared. My steps faltered as I glanced around the corner.
Empty.
I squinted, scanning the area, but he was nowhere to be found. Just a run-down food cart and a handful of people talking quietly.
"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, crossing my arms.
I lingered for a moment longer, but he was gone. And that's when it clicked.
Of course. He's just a poor kid pretending to be carefree. That's why he acts like everything's a joke—because he doesn't want anyone to see the truth. He just wants everyone to feel as miserable as he does.
With that idea settled in my mind, I turned and walked away.
Riser's POV
The alley was quiet, the chatter low and unhurried. I grinned as I stepped up to the old food cart, giving it a light tap with my knuckles.
"President Nafutori!" the elderly vendor exclaimed, his face lighting up. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
"Couldn't stay away, gramps," I said, setting the bag of pastries on the cart's counter. "Here. Fresh from the bakery. Figured you and the kids could use a treat."
He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he accepted the bag. "You've already done so much for us… this is too much—"
"Nonsense," I interrupted, waving him off. "Besides, I've got something else for you." I reached into my pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to him.
He opened it and gasped. "This… this is enough to cover the next month's food supplies!"
"Exactly," I said, grinning. "Now you don't have to worry about it. Just focus on keeping these kids smiling, alright?"
As if on cue, a small group of kids ran up, their faces lighting up when they saw me.
"President!" one of them shouted. "Do you have more of those candies?"
"You bet I do," I said, pulling out a handful of colorful sweets from my other pocket and crouching down to hand them out.
"Thank you, mister!" one of the boys said, hugging the bag of candies like it was treasure.
I ruffled his hair and stood up, turning back to the vendor. "Alright, gramps, I'll check in on you next week. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything, yeah?"
"You're a good man, Riser," the vendor said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Good man, troublemaker—depends who you ask," I joked, giving him a playful salute before turning to leave.
Saori's POV
I walked home with my arms crossed, my mind swirling.
It all made sense now. His carefree attitude, his constant jokes—it was all a cover. Deep down, he was probably miserable.
I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
What a joke, I thought bitterly. He's just a poor kid pretending everything's fine. No wonder he doesn't take anything seriously.
The idea stuck in my head as I pushed open my front door, determined to figure out what made Riser Nafutori tick.
Another glorious morning. I walked into class, grinning like always, ready to spread some good vibes. The world could use more of those, after all.
"Morning, Saori!" I called out, dropping into my seat. "Sleep well?"
She froze mid-scribble, her back stiffening like she'd just been insulted. Slowly, she turned to glare at me, her eyes sharper than my grandmother's sewing needles.
"Why are you such a jerk?" she snapped, loud enough to draw a few curious glances from our classmates.
I raised my hands, palms out, with the most innocent smile I could muster. "Wow, straight to the point today. What'd I do this time?"
"You know exactly what you did," she hissed.
Did I? Not a clue. But her reaction was too good to pass up.
"You're gonna have to be more specific, Dolorez. I've done a lot of things." I leaned back in my chair, casually folding my arms behind my head.
Her glare deepened, and for a second, I thought she might actually throw her notebook at me. Instead, she slammed her bag onto her desk and muttered, "I'll deal with you later."
Deal with me later? I held back a laugh. Whatever storm was brewing in her head, it was bound to be entertaining.
Class was quiet for a while—too quiet. Then Saori stood up, and the air in the room shifted.
"Excuse me," she said, her voice ringing out like a declaration of war.
I looked up, curious. Saori didn't just stand up for nothing.
"I don't think Riser Nafutori should be the student council president anymore."
The silence that followed was heavy. You could practically hear the collective "What the hell?" hanging in the air.
"Who does she think she is?" someone muttered from the back.
"Princess Dolorez," another voice said, dripping with sarcasm.
The laughter started slowly, but it didn't take long for the whole class to join in.
"Does she think she's royalty or something?"
"Yeah, self-proclaimed queen of nothing!"
"Is she even really from Italy? I didn't hear an accent!"
My classmates weren't holding back, and Saori's face was turning redder by the second. She tried to shoot them down with a glare, but it only fueled the fire.
"If you don't like it here, why don't you just leave?" someone shouted.
"Yeah, we didn't ask for a dictator to show up!"
Saori slammed her hands on her desk, making everyone jump. "SHUT UP!" she yelled, her voice cracking slightly. "You don't know anything about me! And you—" She turned to me, her eyes blazing. "You're the WORST!"
Oh?
I didn't even flinch, just smiled at her like the calm, collected president I am. But the insults kept flying, and honestly, they were getting a little out of hand.
"That's ENOUGH," I said, letting my voice cut through the noise.
Instant silence.
Every pair of eyes turned to me. Even the teacher, who'd just walked in looking ready to step in, froze mid-stride.
"Let's all take a deep breath, yeah?" I said, keeping my tone even. "No need to gang up on her."
The tension evaporated like steam. A few students muttered apologies, their gazes dropping to their desks. Even the teacher coughed awkwardly and retreated to his desk like nothing had happened.
"Unbelievable," Saori muttered, still glaring at me.
She wiped at her eyes and stepped closer, her voice shaking with anger.
"I detest you, Nafutori"
"Oh, so you don't like the way I run the school, huh?" I said calmly
She tilted her head, meeting my gaze with a frown . "What gave it away?"
Her hands clenched into fists, her whole body trembling with frustration.
"Fine," I said, my voice calm but almost taunting . "Then tell me—what are you going to do about it?"
The room fell silent again, every eye bouncing between the two of us like they were waiting for the next big showdown.