I'd never done professional accounting work before.
But processing it wasn't difficult.
*It's just like studying.*
Whatever I learned from one document, I applied directly to the next — and any new information I picked up along the way, I systematically organized.
After repeating that process a few times, what had looked like an intimidating pile of paperwork started to feel like an exam sheet cycling through the same set of rules.
When Lee Sae-a checked the results, a spark of life entered her eyes.
"I think I've proven my abilities well enough — what do you think?"
"Your capabilities have been sufficiently confirmed. Quite impressive, I must say."
Afterward, Lee Sae-a tidied the documents and spoke without looking up.
"I will appoint you as the student council's secretary and treasurer. That said, this does not mean I intend to dump all the work on you. Duties will be distributed evenly, so rest assured."
*Hell yes.*
*I actually pulled it off.*
I was quietly celebrating inside when Lee Sae-a continued in her measured tone.
"However — should you engage in any conduct that brings disgrace to the student council in the future, you will be removed immediately. Is that understood?"
On the surface it sounded like something she'd say for the council's sake, but having read the source material, I could see straight through to what she actually meant.
This was her way of nailing down a warning in advance — making sure I wouldn't pull any delinquent nonsense.
She despised troublemakers, after all.
The reason why had remained an unresolved loose thread in the story, so I had no way of knowing.
Didn't matter.
I'd never do anything like that, not in a million years.
"Sounds good. I look forward to working with you."
I extended my hand toward her.
Lee Sae-a stared at it in silence for a moment.
"Yes. Likewise."
Then, carefully, she took my hand.
"Though I have no idea how long this arrangement will last."
***
—*Ding-dong-dang-dong~*
"Class dismissed. Don't go completely slack just because midterms are over."
The greatest wall a student faces — fourth period — had finally conceded defeat.
"Phew."
Even for Arisu, who was called a genius, the wall of fourth period was always towering.
Because she was hungry, obviously.
The more brainpower you burned, the more calories you spent — so Arisu was always hungry by the end of it.
At least, that was the reason she believed.
"Ngh—!"
Arisu stretched her arms out in a small, satisfying arc.
*What's for lunch today?*
Unlike schools in other districts, most schools in Academy City ran their own cafeterias.
The quality varied from school to school, of course, but on the whole it was decent enough.
Prices were reasonable enough that an average student could eat without straining their wallet.
"Arisutchi~! Let's go eat. I checked — Course A has yakisoba bread today!"
"Seriously?! Let's go right now!"
"Arisu, your voice always gets louder the second food comes up."
Heading to the cafeteria with her usual group of friends was always something to look forward to.
Arisu stood up from her seat with a wry smile.
And as she did, her eyes caught a movement — a male student heading out.
Ryuzaki.
He was walking toward the back door of the classroom, a lunchbox and a textbook tucked under his arm.
*Huh.*
*Didn't he usually eat in the classroom?*
Bathroom?
No — why would anyone bring a lunchbox and a textbook to the bathroom?
"Ryuzaki, where are you going?"
"Me? Lunch. Enjoy yours."
He answered in that clipped way of his and kept walking.
She wanted to ask *where* exactly he was going to eat — but.
"Arisutchi! What are you doing? If we don't go now, the line's going to be forever."
"Oh, right! Coming!"
Her friends called out, and she had no choice but to swallow the question.
Walking down the hallway with her friends, one of them suddenly spoke up.
"By the way, Arisutchi, you're something else. You just walked right up and talked to him."
"Hm?"
"I mean — honestly, he kind of scares me. Unlike the other delinquents, there's something about him that feels genuinely dangerous, you know?"
Another friend clapped her hands in agreement.
"Oh, totally. I've heard he's been better lately, but honestly? I don't buy it. Feels like he's got some ulterior motive going on."
The conversation drifted naturally toward talking behind Ryuzaki's back.
Arisu felt a small flicker of irritation.
She didn't let it show, of course.
"Arisutchi, are you close with him? That could be risky, so maybe you should—"
Her friend's question — *are you close with Ryuzaki?*
The old Arisu would have cut it off cleanly: *No, not at all.*
Because they'd only met a few days ago.
And honestly, being seen around him was a significant image risk.
The old Arisu would have said exactly that, without hesitation.
But—
*—Right now… I just like studying.*
Having heard that honest confession, how could she?
"We're only saying this because we care about Arisutchi—"
"Yeah."
"…What?"
"We're actually close."
Her friends' expressions froze in unison.
Even so.
Right now, that was what she wanted to say.
***
Lunchtime.
I headed to the student council room.
The place I'd earned through yesterday's demonstration.
*It's quiet here.*
Eating in the classroom had always been uncomfortable — classmates kept sneaking glances at me.
Now I could enjoy lunch in peace without worrying about any of that.
—*Creak.*
I opened the door with a lighter heart.
And.
"……"
Lee Sae-a was there.
Our student council president, staring at me with an expression of pure, undisguised shock.
She'd been in the middle of eating.
"Hic—!"
She startled into a hiccup, then hurriedly tried to hide her lunchbox — which was a little funny.
I didn't laugh, naturally.
Laughing might get me kicked out.
"I'm sorry. I assumed no one was here and didn't knock."
"…Please be mindful next t— hic."
"Don't force yourself to speak."
I gave a small bow and moved into the room.
I chose a seat — not right next to her, but not too far away either.
Sitting too far might actually offend her.
But we weren't close enough to sit side by side.
This distance was just right.
Close enough not to be awkward, far enough not to be presumptuous.
—*Slide.*
I pushed my water bottle toward her.
It glided across the desk and stopped precisely in front of her.
She looked miserable with those hiccups, and I was the one who'd caused them in the first place.
She took small sips, head slightly bowed.
*So she eats here too.*
It didn't particularly surprise me that Lee Sae-a ate alone.
In the source material, she was described as someone with almost no friends.
Something about being the only Korean student and facing quiet, low-grade discrimination because of it.
A petty, senseless reason — and yet, strangely, I found it completely believable.
In my past life, being dismissed and looked down on for equally stupid reasons was nothing new.
I knew it firsthand.
This place wouldn't be any different.
—*Slide.*
The water bottle came back.
"Thank you."
The hiccups seemed to have stopped, at least.
The bottle was considerably lighter than before.
That was fine.
I didn't drink much water with meals anyway.
"I should explain the internal rules of the student council that I did not cover yesterday."
Whether she wanted to change the subject or not, Lee Sae-a launched into an explanation of council regulations without preamble.
I had no intention of making things more awkward for her.
I nodded quietly and listened.
"Cleaning duties rotate among members."
"Understood."
"In particular, the external disclosure of any student's personal information is strictly prohibited. And furthermore—"
While she spoke, I opened the lunchbox I'd brought.
Shredded cabbage.
Chicken breast.
Bread that was close to its expiration date.
A little ketchup.
A familiar spread.
The kind of meal I'd put together often in my past life, when I had almost nothing to my name.
I wasn't short on money right now — but I needed to save every yen I could.
I could be thrown out of the house today and it wouldn't even be surprising.
I had to build up a cushion while I still could.
"And this is work due tomorrow. Please have it on my desk by morning."
"Understood."
As I accepted the stack of documents from Lee Sae-a, my gaze drifted involuntarily to her lunchbox.
Steamed rice.
Sautéed sausage and vegetables.
Pan-fried tofu.
Furikake and umeboshi.
Solid, but not lavish.
From what I knew, Lee Sae-a's circumstances weren't particularly comfortable either.
There was something in the story about her working a part-time job because of it.
What kind of job, though — that was never revealed.
"Would you like some?"
"Pardon?"
She looked at me and asked.
"You have been glancing at my lunchbox for a while now. I assumed you wanted some. Was I mistaken?"
*Ah. She noticed.*
I hadn't been coveting it, exactly.
I scratched the back of my head and tried to brush it off.
"Just… it looked good, that's all."
—*Slide.*
Something glided across the desk and stopped in front of me.
A small side dish container.
A few pieces of sausage and pan-fried tofu.
"Do not misunderstand. This is simply a return for the water. And if you keep staring like that, it makes eating uncomfortable for me. I have had enough to eat, so you may have it."
I hadn't said a word, and yet she rattled off reasons in rapid succession.
Whatever else she was, she clearly hated being indebted to anyone.
I liked that about her.
"Thank you. I'll enjoy it."
"Yes."
The sparse lunchbox suddenly felt a little more alive.
I gave a small nod of thanks, then briefly looked over the documents.
And began eating.
There was no conversation, naturally.
The only sounds were the quiet clink of utensils and the occasional rustle of turning pages.
As always, it was an oddly comfortable silence.
"Senpai."
"Yes. Go ahead."
"I've finished the work you assigned. I'll leave it here."
"……"
"The third page is missing one supporting document. Just so you know."
I set the organized papers quietly beside her.
Lee Sae-a blinked a few times, then gave a composed nod.
Though she couldn't quite hide the slight tremor in her eyes.
"…Yes. I will review it later."
"Also — the tofu's a little salty."
"If you intend to complain about the food, please return it immediately."
"I'm joking, I'm joking. It's good."
I let out a small laugh and took a bite of the pan-fried tofu she'd shared.
"You can tell it was made with care."
I said it partly to smooth over any irritation my joke might have caused.
And partly because it was something I genuinely felt.
"……"
For just a moment.
A crack appeared in her expression — something I'd never seen before.
The hand lifting her chopsticks paused, just briefly.
But only for a moment.
She moved her chopsticks again as if nothing had happened.
*…What was that?*
*Did I say something wrong?*