Uesugi Hara leaned back in his chair and relaxed for a while. In the end, he still picked up his Terminal and opened his chat with Horikita Manabu.
"President Horikita?"
After he sent the message, the Terminal screen dimmed, then lit up again. He stared at the signal icon at the top as it flickered for half a minute before finally receiving a concise reply: "What is it?"
"I'm planning to set up a secondhand trading platform and wanted to talk it over with you. I'm hoping the Student Council can help promote it, provide guarantees, and offer a 'venue.'"
When Horikita Manabu saw the message, his brow immediately furrowed. Student Council affairs were already complicated, and this sudden proposal requiring coordination among several parties gave him a headache.
The Terminal chimed again after a short while. Horikita Manabu's reply was as cautious as ever: "Why?"
Uesugi Hara's fingers hovered over the screen. He thought for a moment, then typed: "To reduce waste and make it easier for students to exchange what they need. From the school's perspective, it would also regulate on-campus transactions and prevent disputes over private deals."
He deliberately glossed over the core issue of making money, sticking to lofty, respectable-sounding arguments. Sure enough, the other end of the conversation fell silent for even longer. Just as Uesugi Hara began to think he would be flatly refused, a new message appeared: "The guarantee will require a review of the proposal. We can help with promotion, but only within the rules."
Uesugi Hara raised an eyebrow. This was going more smoothly than he'd expected. He replied at once: "Tomorrow at three in the afternoon, in the Student Council Office?"
"Sure." Horikita Manabu's message was brief as ever.
When the chat window went dark, Uesugi Hara tossed his Terminal back onto the desk. Horikita Manabu had probably agreed so readily because he was thinking about "regulating affairs." After all, private transactions had indeed caused some trouble at this school.
But that suited him just fine.
Having finished all that, Uesugi Hara finally let out a breath of relief.
"Honestly..." he murmured, but didn't finish the thought. His fingertips tapped lightly against the desk, as if he were plotting something—or perhaps simply waiting for tomorrow to come.
On Saturday afternoon, sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting mottled shadows across the floor of the Student Council Office. The hands of the wall clock crept toward 2:50, and the room was filled with a quiet stillness.
"Knock, knock, knock—"
Three measured knocks broke the silence, neither too loud nor too soft, carrying just the right amount of politeness.
"Come in." Horikita Manabu's usual cool voice rang through the office, devoid of any unnecessary emotion. Like metal tempered in ice, it was crisp and precise, yet carried an undeniable pressure. It seemed that those two words alone had already set the boundaries and tone of the conversation.
Uesugi Hara pushed open the door, and the busy scene inside the office was the first thing to catch his eye.
Horikita Manabu sat upright behind his desk, his back perfectly straight as he reviewed documents with meticulous focus, as though the surrounding commotion had nothing to do with him.
A purple-haired girl stood behind him. Her fluffy short hair was gathered into a playful bun atop her head, and she waited quietly, somehow fitting the serious atmosphere.
On the sofa off to the side, however, sat someone who seemed entirely out of place—a head of strikingly yellow hair, and a casual posture that sank deep into the cushions. He exuded an air of complete nonchalance.
At the sound, Horikita Manabu looked up. His gaze paused briefly when it landed on the person at the door. Seeing that it was Uesugi Hara, he calmly set down his pen, his fingertips resting lightly on the edge of the document.
"You're here, Uesugi. Sit." His tone was even as he gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.
As soon as he finished speaking, Tachibana Akane came over with a cup of warm water and offered it to Uesugi Hara. Her movements were gentle, her attentiveness just right.
"Thank you, Tachibana-senpai." Uesugi Hara took the cup, his fingers brushing its cool sides. After thanking her, he sat down as invited.
He had barely settled in when the yellow-haired boy on the sofa spoke lazily, his tone tinged with a hint of frivolity. "Uesugi? You mean Uesugi Hara from Class 1-A?"
As he spoke, Miyabi Nagumo lifted himself slightly from the sofa, one hand resting on his knee while his fingers tapped idly against his trouser leg. His striking yellow hair shimmered in the light, almost dazzling.
He gave Uesugi Hara a once-over, a half-smile playing on his lips. There was a hint of probing in his voice. "I heard you made several million points off upperclassmen right after the school year started. Not bad."
"Vice President Nagumo, you're joking." Uesugi Hara looked up and met Miyabi Nagumo's searching gaze calmly, his voice utterly unruffled. He placed the cup gently on the edge of the desk. "That business about points is just a rumor. It shouldn't be taken seriously."
The smile on Miyabi Nagumo's face deepened, as though he approved of that response. He was about to say something more when Horikita Manabu interrupted in his cool voice.
"Nagumo, Uesugi came to the Student Council for a reason. If you want to chat, wait until we've finished discussing the matter at hand." Horikita Manabu's gaze shifted from the documents to Miyabi Nagumo. His tone was even, but carried undeniable weight.
Miyabi Nagumo raised an eyebrow but didn't get up. Instead, he sank even deeper into the sofa, a playful smile on his lips. "Oh? Could I stay and hear what it's about? As vice president, getting a sense of what the lower years are thinking doesn't count as overstepping my authority, does it?"
Horikita Manabu didn't answer right away. He simply looked at him in silence, his expression conveying a tacit "Do as you like." Then he turned to Uesugi Hara, his tone returning to its previous steadiness. "Uesugi, tell me more about your idea."
Uesugi Hara understood. He wasn't surprised by the clash between the two. Composing himself, he looked at Horikita Manabu and spoke in a steady voice. "It's about the secondhand trading platform. I'm planning to build a website under the Student Council's official site. I explained why it's needed and gave you my initial ideas in an email yesterday."
He paused, glanced at the documents on the desk, then added, "Simply put, it would bring together trading in unused items around campus. Everything from textbooks and notes to sports equipment and even secondhand props for club activities could be listed at a set price and paid for with points. That would reduce waste and make it easier for students to get what they need, without having to find people privately to arrange things and risk unnecessary disputes."
Horikita Manabu tapped his fingers lightly on the desk twice and looked at Uesugi Hara. "How will you handle the technical side? Who will be responsible for maintenance and management?"
"I can build the platform. For routine maintenance, the Student Council could assign someone to coordinate with me, or arrange for students in the Computer Club to help." Uesugi Hara had come prepared.
"Oh? Payments in points?" Miyabi Nagumo suddenly sat a little straighter, tapping his chin with a fingertip. His eyes gleamed with interest. "Sounds like a pretty good way to make money. How much will the platform take as a commission? Or do you have something more interesting in mind?"
"The platform will charge a three-percent service fee," Uesugi Hara added without hesitation. "That will cover technical maintenance and credit guarantees. The profits will be split fifty-fifty."
As soon as Uesugi Hara finished speaking, the office fell momentarily silent.
Miyabi Nagumo's playful smile vanished, replaced by a deeper curiosity. He sat up straight and leaned forward slightly. "A fifty-fifty split? Split between whom?"
Uesugi Hara met his gaze, his tone as steady as before. "The Student Council and the operating party each get half. I'll be responsible for building and running the platform, so I naturally count as the operating party."
"Wow." Miyabi Nagumo chuckled, drawing out the word. His interest practically shone in his eyes. "A first-year is negotiating a revenue split with the Student Council? You've got quite an appetite, Uesugi. Aren't you worried people will say you're using the Student Council's name for personal gain?"
Horikita Manabu had listened in silence until now. At last, he spoke, his voice still cool. "By 'profits,' do you mean what remains after deducting the costs of technical maintenance, credit guarantees, and so on?"
"Yes." Uesugi Hara nodded. "Of the three-percent service fee, an estimated one percent will go toward basic expenses, leaving the remaining two percent as profit. That amount will be divided proportionally. This will give the Student Council's activity fund some additional income while incentivizing the operating party to maintain the platform properly. After all, no one will keep investing time in something that offers no return."
Miyabi Nagumo scoffed and leaned back against the sofa, folding his hands behind his head. "That all sounds very high-minded. I think you've already worked out that this platform will take off. With this many students in the school, even if each person only trades once, your cut would still earn you a tidy sum."
"If the platform really benefits the whole school, then this small share is nothing." Uesugi Hara's tone didn't change. "On the other hand, if nobody uses it, I won't get any points at all. The risk and reward are proportional. That's only fair."
Horikita Manabu tapped the desk lightly three times, then looked up at Uesugi Hara. "Are you confident you can keep the platform running smoothly?"
"Yes."
"The Student Council must review the detailed rules, and the accounts for the revenue split must remain fully transparent." Horikita Manabu's tone didn't waver, but his decision was final. "If you can do that, we can run the proposal as a trial. Have the detailed rules ready for me by the day after tomorrow."
Miyabi Nagumo raised an eyebrow and didn't argue further. He simply looked at Uesugi Hara with a more inscrutable, assessing gaze. This first-year wasn't just bold enough to dream big—he was bold enough to bring his calculations to the Student Council. He was more interesting than Miyabi Nagumo had expected.