After hearing her proposal, Nozomi shook his head, fingers drumming absently against his thigh.
" Kaguya-san, your reform of the school clubs—the starting point is good."
He shifted his weight, crossing his arms. "But Soubu High School originally attracted students through the diversity of its clubs. Moreover, where there is light, there is darkness. While eliminating some superfluous clubs is certainly beneficial, it also deprives students of an opportunity to gain experience."
His voice dropped, thoughtful. "How can hothouse flowers compete with others who have seen darkness once they enter society?"
If this continues, he thought, the people of Soubu High School will lose to the government's Advanced Nurturing High School.
Kaguya's lips curved—a small, satisfied smile that deepened the natural bow of her mouth. She leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk's polished surface, chin balanced delicately on interlaced fingers. The movement pulled her blouse taut across her modest chest, though her attention remained fixed entirely on strategy.
He thinks ahead. Good. That's precisely why I need him.
"Of course, I also considered what you said." Her voice carried the cadence of someone who'd rehearsed this conversation three moves deep. "So, my first step is to remove redundant clubs that don't contribute to student improvement and growth."
She raised one finger, elegant and precise. "The second step is to establish inter-school academic competitions and club competitions, with increased prize money. With pressure comes motivation. If someone truly wants to improve themselves and gain experience, they'll strive to become more excellent on their own—thereby earning scholarships and competition prizes."
In other words, Kaguya Shinomiya was investing.
Setting up prize money and competitions would stimulate students' fighting spirit for learning. And the Shinomiya Family, with its vast wealth, could easily provide employment opportunities for the most promising graduates.
Nozomi exhaled slowly through his nose, the faint scent of her perfume—something floral, expensive—reaching him across the desk.
As expected of the eldest daughter of the top chaebol family. She's farsighted.
There were still many geniuses in this school. If literary competitions or direct academic performance competitions were established, that dead-eyed Hachiman Hikigaya from F Class would probably actively participate for the scholarship alone.
" Kaguya-san," Nozomi said, uncrossing his arms, "has that Advanced Nurturing High School been established yet?"
"It hasn't officially started recruiting students, but it's already built." Kaguya rose from her chair, the motion fluid, her pleated skirt swaying around slender thighs as she moved toward the window. "Right in the center of Kyoto, directly covering an entire city."
She turned, silhouetted against the afternoon light, her expression hardening. "Nozomi, I hope you and everyone in the Service Club will work hard for this school. If you don't want the Yukinoshita and other chaebols to have their power absorbed by the government..."
Her voice dropped, cold as winter steel.
"This is war. A battle between the chaebols and government agencies for the talent market."
She's serious, Nozomi realized, watching the tension coiled in her shoulders. He nodded, matching her gravity.
He was now the son-in-law of the Yukinoshita, after all. Naturally, he had to consider things from the perspective of the Yukinoshita chaebol.
However—
I might be able to go there myself. Act as an undercover agent.
The thought unfurled slowly, taking shape. The Advanced Nurturing High School. A classroom based on the principle of strength supremacy—meritocracy distilled to its purest, most ruthless form.
He thought of Horikita Suzune, who shared some similarities with Yukinoshita but harbored a brother-complex that colored everything she did. And Ichinose Honami—generous, trusting, dangerously idealistic.
Both were strikingly beautiful girls.
If he could infiltrate the school and turn all the talents inside into his own people, the government's open conspiracy to reduce the power of the zaibatsu would collapse on its own.
" Kaguya-san," he said, tilting his head, "does that school only accept commoners? Students without backgrounds?"
Kaguya shook her head, her hair rippling with the motion.
"Of course not. There are also some zaibatsu that have been completely subdued by the government—they can be said to be our opponents." Her eyes narrowed. "In the struggle for the big cake of power, they are absolute enemies. Including Ayanokouji, Horikita, Kouenji... I speculate that the heads of these zaibatsu families will definitely send their heirs to enroll."
The purpose of enrollment was twofold, Nozomi understood. First, to train family heirs in an environment designed to forge excellence. Second, to showcase their strength and charm—to gain the support of other excellent students who would, after graduation, make outstanding contributions in various positions.
They were most suitable to be used as family vassals and subordinates.
The formation of a large zaibatsu family required more than just the main bloodline. The support of collateral branches and allied smaller families was indispensable.
So that's how it works.
He gained some understanding of Ayanokouji and Kouenji through Kaguya's explanation. Kouenji was a zaibatsu slightly inferior to Yukinoshita, their main business arms dealing—which meant involvement with the underworld. As for Ayanokouji, they had been generals or leaders for generations. Their background and strength shouldn't be underestimated.
Of course, this was by ordinary standards.
People like Hozuki Nozomi, who possessed mysterious powers, naturally wouldn't find Ayanokouji formidable. How formidable could he be? Could it match Frieren's single city-destroying magic cannon?
Things are getting more and more interesting.
A meaningful smile curved Nozomi's lips, unbidden.
Kaguya visibly shivered, her composure cracking for just an instant.
What is he thinking? That smile—it's unsettling.
"Alright," she said quickly, smoothing her skirt with both hands, "I've said everything I need to say. Hurry up and deal with this game club."
"Yes, yes," Nozomi replied, already turning toward the door. "I'll go discuss it with Yukinoshita and the others right away."
The game club, technically, could have stayed.
But Kaguya's intelligence reports had been thorough. The members hadn't gathered to develop games—something that might actually contribute to personal growth. What they mainly studied was playing eroge together. Lewd games. Animated girls moaning through tinny speakers while teenage boys sat in the dark, hands busy beneath desks.
This would corrupt others. Affect other excellent students.
Kaguya wanted the club disbanded. Nozomi had no objections.
For clubs that engaged in lewdness and enjoyment, one like his own was sufficient. Others didn't need to exist.
Moreover, that club had no girls. It was basically several grown boys playing eroge and watching adult movies together, collectively indulging in base pleasures.
Rectifying such improper conduct on campus was also the responsibility of the Student Council.
…
The raid happened fast.
Nozomi led the charge, pushing through the clubroom door without knocking. The stench hit him first—stale sweat, energy drinks gone flat, something unmistakably biological that made his nose wrinkle in disgust. Three boys sat frozen at computer terminals, their pants bunched around their ankles, pale thighs exposed.
The screens blazed white and pink—animated bodies writhing, high-pitched voices looping through speakers—
"Ahhn~! S-Senpai, not there—!"
One boy's hand was still wrapped around himself, glistening.
Nozomi immediately turned, blocking the doorway with his body, stopping Yukinoshita and the others from entering.
"Don't," he said flatly.
The game club members, caught red-handed—caught mid-stroke—went crimson. One of them let out a strangled whimper, scrambling to pull up his pants, his chair rolling backward and crashing into the wall.
They were socially ruined.
The club was disbanded within the hour. They didn't dare protest at all.
….
Having dealt with the game club, Hozuki Nozomi was about to return to the Student Council office.
He turned a corner—and nearly collided with Kirisu Mafuyu.
She stood in the hallway, late afternoon light warming her features. Her lavender hair spilled over one shoulder, slightly disheveled as though she'd been running her fingers through it. She wore a cream-colored cardigan over her blouse today, the soft fabric doing little to hide the generous swell of her chest, the buttons straining just slightly with each breath. Her skirt—modest length, professional—still managed to emphasize the curve of her hips, the long line of her stockinged legs.
"Ah, Kirisu-sensei." Nozomi offered a polite nod. "If you'll excuse me—"
"Um."
Her voice stopped him.
Higher than usual.
Nervous.
"Nozomi, wait a moment."
He turned back. Her cheeks had flushed a delicate pink, her gaze sliding sideways to avoid meeting his directly. One hand clutched the strap of her bag, knuckles white.
"Come back to my place with me today," she said, the words rushing out too quickly. "I want to check if your injury has healed."
His back injury. The one that had healed weeks ago.
Nozomi studied her face—the way she bit her lower lip, the flutter of her pulse visible at her throat, the slight tremor in her breathing that made her chest rise and fall just a fraction faster than normal.
This isn't about checking an injury.
She was blocking him here deliberately. Creating a chance encounter. Her apartment probably needed cleaning, right?