Days passed after Rei took over the council. While guiding Luster, Rei also planned to expand the school's activities. "Sir," Rei addressed the headmaster one day, "let's launch a short-term program where we collect small requests from villagers—like helping with farming, moving boxes, or running errands. We'll charge a little money for these tasks, and the children can do them."
The headmaster looked hesitant. "But wouldn't that make it seem like we're exploiting the children we are here to teach the children not to exploit them Rei"
Rei smiled, knowing how to counter his concerns. "It's just for seven days. The children will learn responsibility and practical skills, which will benefit the village. Trust me."
After some deliberation, the management agreed. As Rei left the meeting, some teachers murmured their doubts. "He's just a child—what does he know about running programs?" one said.
Another replied, "Don't forget that this same child helped us establish the school. Maybe there's a bigger plan behind this."
Encouraged by Rei's determination, they proceeded with the idea. The next morning, announcements were made about the new program. Requests started pouring in from villagers: help with harvesting crops, cleaning barns, and carrying goods. Most of the requests came from people who had no children of their own. Children, though skeptical at first, began participating.
However, not everyone was on board. By midday, some parents arrived at the school, their voices raised in protest. "Why are you making our children work?" one demanded. "This is unfair!"
Another added, "They're here to learn, not to toil!"
The management reassured the parents. "This program will only last for seven days. We're monitoring it carefully to ensure it benefits the children. During this program we want you to give your feedback". The management did everything to assure the parents about this idea. After all the management can't reveal that this idea came from a child and that they are following a child's orders. Reluctantly, the parents agreed to wait and see.
Four days into the program, the tide began to turn. Children who participated showed signs of improvement—not just in physical stamina but in confidence and teamwork. Some parents returned to the school, their tone entirely different. "My child helped me in the fields today," one said with a smile. "They've become more responsible."
"Yes, this program has benefitted my son," another chimed in. "He even taught his younger siblings what he learned!"
When the week concluded, the program had become a topic of admiration across the village. Rei approached the management to discuss the results.
The headmaster leaned back in his chair, his expression a mix of surprise and respect. "Rei, I must admit, you've proven us wrong. This program has been a resounding success. The children learned responsibility, earned a bit of money, and gained skills they can carry forward."
He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I think we should consider implementing a system like this permanently, but with adjustments. We'll limit the hours children can work to ensure they still have time for their studies and play. And we'll ensure the pay is fair."
Other teachers chimed in with suggestions. "We could expand this idea," one said. "Offer more services, like tutoring, helping with livestock, or even organizing village events. There's so much potential here."
The headmaster turned to Rei, his eyes twinkling with pride. "Rei, you've shown us that even the youngest among us can inspire change. Your initiative has brought the school and village closer together. We're proud to have you as part of our school."
The meeting concluded, and as Rei stepped out, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Yet, he knew this was only the beginning. Balancing his plans with training Luster and hiding his true abilities was a delicate dance, but one he was determined to master.
Hanna, Rei's sister, observed all the changes Rei had implemented in the school with a mix of admiration and bitter self-reflection. While she couldn't deny how impressive Rei's actions were, she felt a gnawing disappointment in herself. Hanna had always wanted to stand on equal footing with her sibling, but every time she looked at Rei, it was as though he wasn't just a step ahead of her—he was on an entirely different level, on a floor she couldn't even reach.
Her friends tried their best to console her. "You don't have to compete with Rei," one said. "You're amazing in own your way." Another chimed in, "He's just doing what he can. You're doing great, too."
But Hanna couldn't listen to them. Their words felt hollow because deep down, she wanted to earn Rei's respect and attention. She understood one thing with unshakable clarity: if she wanted to be acknowledged by Rei, she had to do something extraordinary. She had to be like him an extraordinary person with charisma and knowledge. For that, she needed to build something of her own, a strength that only she possessed.
Her friends, misinterpreting her disappointment, whispered among themselves, believing Rei's demeanor toward Hanna bordered on bullying. "Rei's always so cold to her," one muttered. "How can she even look up to him?"
Meanwhile, the school's management was buzzing with plans, inspired by Rei's initiatives. Some teachers eagerly discussed ambitious ideas, such as expanding the program Rei had implemented or introducing more intricate lessons.
But Rei cut through their chatter, his voice calm yet firm. "Don't get ahead of yourselves. We'll stick to small, manageable goals—nothing more, nothing less. Focus on the basics and build a solid foundation for the school. Any money we receive will go toward repairing this place."
Some members were disheartened by the restriction, but others were pleased to see Rei prioritizing infrastructure over grandiose visions. One senior member remarked, "He's young, but his pragmatism is admirable. He's not just throwing out ideas; he has a plan."
Rei's practical approach soon turned heads, earning him further respect among the faculty. Even so, his decisions unintentionally created rifts among some students, particularly the girls.