The Enemy Horikita

Warehouse No. 4.

Ayanokoji stared impassively at the bewildered middle-aged man on the floor, his eyes looking half-asleep.

Well, this was going exactly as expected.

Ayanokoji's dark eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced at the girl on the floor.

Her brows twitched as she curled up on the ground, her delicate body trembling nonstop. She still didn't dare open her eyes.

"Sakura..."

Ayanokoji tried to call her to her senses.

But before he could finish, he caught a glint of steel flying toward him from the corner of his eye.

He turned his neck slightly and moved his left hand at the same time, catching the knife by its handle just as it sliced through the air beside his ear.

"Mon... Monster!"

"Are all the students at this school monsters?"

The middle-aged man cried out, his face full of disbelief.

"Phew."

Ayanokoji let out a quiet sigh and took out his phone to check the time.

He couldn't help criticizing the Student Council's efficiency in his mind.

If you're short on people, just recruit more like normal, for crying out loud.

Only then did the girl on the floor slowly open her eyes.

As the world, blurred by her tears, gradually came into focus, she saw a face that looked somewhat helpless.

"Ayanokoji...-kun?!"

"What are you doing here...?"

Ayanokoji looked down at her, his eyelids drooping, and said nothing. With his glasses no longer concealing her identity, he recognized her at once as the girl in the photo on the middle-aged man's body pillow.

He crouched down and used the little knife he'd "picked up" to cut the ropes around her, freeing her.

"Th... thank you,"

the girl said softly. Only then did she realize that the boy in front of her had seen her in such a disheveled state. She lowered her head shyly.

Not far away, the middle-aged man saw what was happening and seized his chance. He got to his feet and staggered toward the exit.

But after only a few steps, he was forced to retreat.

Three students in school uniforms stood outside the door, blocking his way with an imposing presence.

"What happened here? You there, boy—explain."

The man in the middle, wearing black-rimmed glasses, spoke with a stern expression.

"This shopkeeper seems to have tried to assault this girl," Ayanokoji said blandly, as if he were nothing more than a bystander.

"Do you have any proof?"

"N-No, he's making it up!" the middle-aged man cut in. "I'm Shizuku-chan's... fan. We were just having a fan meeting, right, Shizuku-chan?"

The man looked at Sakura imploringly, but the icy look in her eyes gave him his answer.

"Heh... Heh heh, you don't have any proof, do you? There aren't any security cameras here..."

"You can't just convict someone without proof, President."

The middle-aged man's eyes regained a glimmer of hope, as if he'd just grasped a lifeline. His voice grew more confident, too.

But in the next moment, reality played another trick on him.

"I do." Ayanokoji lazily raised one hand, walked over, and held his phone out to the black-haired boy. "I happened to be passing by and filmed it."

The black-haired boy watched the video. His expression grew even more serious, and he glanced at Ayanokoji with a peculiar look.

At the very moment he'd seen what was happening, this guy hadn't tried to help—he'd calmly filmed the man's crime instead?

Heh.

Horikita Manabu sneered inwardly, then walked up to the middle-aged man and showed him the phone.

"Anything else you'd like to say?"

Horikita Manabu spoke calmly, his tone sounding almost like a final verdict.

The middle-aged man was dumbfounded when he saw the video.

That gloomy-looking guy had arrived before he could even lay a hand on the girl, hidden in a corner, and filmed the whole thing?!

That guy was the real pervert!

Tears streamed down his face.

The next moment, the middle-aged man lowered his head, as if finally accepting reality.

There was nothing he could do. He'd picked a fight with the wrong people.

"Take him away." Horikita Manabu calmly adjusted his glasses, then turned to Ayanokoji. "The verdict will be announced tomorrow. Please wait patiently."

"Okay."

Ayanokoji gave a silent nod, utterly emotionless.

Then he and Sakura watched them leave.

But after only a few steps, Horikita Manabu unexpectedly stopped and slowly turned around. He stared straight into Ayanokoji's utterly indifferent eyes. "You. Join the Student Council. We still have an opening for a secretary. The position is yours if you want it."

?

Horikita Manabu's words made Ayanokoji furrow his brow slightly, at a loss as to what had prompted the sudden invitation.

The two Student Council members beside him also looked surprised.

The president really did have unusual taste...

"Is there something special about this kid, my dear president?"

A handsome blond man beside him couldn't help asking.

Horikita Manabu didn't reply. He simply waited in silence for Ayanokoji's answer, his dark eyes deep and unwavering.

"Sorry, I don't have any free time at the moment to take part in club activities."

"Oh, I see. That's a shame." Horikita Manabu adjusted his glasses and continued, "But I can promise you this: during my term, whenever you change your mind, the Student Council will welcome you."

The two second-year members beside him were stunned.

Was he really that keen?

Sakura Airi, who'd been standing silently behind Ayanokoji, now wore a surprised expression, her eyes glistening.

Rumor had it that the Student Council only recruited big shots and academic geniuses. As an ordinary person, she'd heard that long ago.

Could Ayanokoji really be special?

"Hmm..."

"I'll think about it."

Ayanokoji nodded.

That was right. In a situation like this, the best response was to feign retreat while advancing. That way, he could show respect while conveying his helplessness.

He'd learned that way of handling things from a book.

In truth, he had no interest in the Student Council. It was tiring and offered few benefits, completely at odds with his approach to life.

Only a fool would join the Student Council!

Ayanokoji thought to himself.

Horikita Manabu was busy with his duties and didn't have time to chat. After a polite farewell, he left with the two second-year members.

As they gradually disappeared from view, Ayanokoji breathed a sigh of relief.

Horikita Manabu was a man of many talents. The fact that he'd recognized Ayanokoji's ability alone was enough to make Ayanokoji remember his name.

A moment later, he thought of a certain classmate who had the same hair color and, at first glance, somewhat similar features, and who always looked at him with disdain. He couldn't help grumbling inwardly.

They were both Horikitas. How could they be so different...?