Shoko does not utter a word on the bus ride. For once, she has not tried to grasp Suguru’s attention. He is busy, surrounded by his new fangirls. Ever since his fight with Satoru, he has leaned increasingly into the bad-boy-playboy angle, which is paying off, so, good for him.
Yuu had joked over the phone that, just maybe, Satoru and him have a pact to retake their roles. To revert to what they were like before they had become friends. Maybe for a bit or something. Iori shut down that theory pretty quickly when she informed them that Satoru kept crying at home. His father had almost punished him before Shoko got to get him to live at her apartment with her.
One of the many props of being from a rich family. Thankfully, Satoru’s parents are pleased with how their son has evolved during the first year and the first semester of the second year. Even now, Satoru has the best grades in the whole school, and his last reprimand was right after the fight when he tried to instigate a spar with some school bullies. To wash down the rotten taste, maybe. Shoko could relate. The fangirls crowding around Suguru give her a wide berth in the hallways for a reason.
They could not do anything to Shoko, of course. She is the Vice-President of the Student’s Office. She stands, objectively, as the coolest girl here. From a Dynasty, good at martial arts, with top grades, belonging to the popular group, and her locker was always full of love letters. She is Successful. Satoru is even better than her. However, that still was not enough. That still did not satisfy Suguru.
Whatever, she does not have time to consecrate to him. Starting tomorrow, Shoko will start going to school with the chauffeur her father gave her at the beginning of middle school. She had used Hirotsu’s services up until she met Suguru, who rode the bus alone. Satoru always woke up at the last minute so she had decided to accompany Suguru on his journey to school. Clearly, the efforts did not pay off, but whatever.
Shoko has been by Satoru’s side forever; she is used to ungrateful friends.
She was the ungrateful friend, once.
Once the bus reaches the school, she is not in any haste to get out first. She should; Satoru and Iori are waiting at the stop. If she does not run out first, Suguru and his group will pass before her, and Satoru will see them. He always gets gloomy when it happens, Suguru not sparing a single glance in his direction. As if anyone could refrain from staring at the albino oeuvre that he was.
Shoko will send a text to her father once she is out, for him to come to the flat tonight. He always says the right thing to keep her in check, to keep Satoru from going off the metaphorical deep end. Kento does a lot but he never quite manages to be that reassuring presence, like her father. Like Suguru.
Takuma and Atsuya must already be waiting in class. Kento must be speaking with the teachers. Shoko and Suguru should be the ones doing that but ever since the fight, the teachers have all agreed it is best to keep them separate.
Once Shoko gets out, Satoru is looking away from her, gaze fixated on someone who won’t turn back. Iori is waving excitedly at Shoko, like the amazing friend she is. But Shoko jumps on her favorite boy instead of acknowledging her, making him yelp aloud. He catches her because of course, he does. He always does.
Shoko smiles widely at him and Satoru makes a soft grin. It probably does not look like it to outsiders, but Shoko has been by this boy’s side for over five years, she can distinguish the most minute changes of his expression. Suguru, the true Satoru-whisperer that he is, had been able to do the same in all of two weeks.
Her favorite boy is gentle, and a bit shattered in all the wrong places. They still head inside the school as if the world belongs to them. Dynasty families have always been above the others. Maybe that is why Suguru defected from them. Was the wealth gap too great, even with all the love shared? Shoko had seen Satoru begging him on his knees. Was it still not enough of a sacrifice for the great and mighty Suguru?
He did not deserve sh*t and he still got so much offered to him. Shoko was waiting to see if he would return all their presents. Would his father give back the car Shoko had offered last Christmas? What about his sisters, would they give back all the designer items Iori and her had bought for them during numerous shopping trips? Would Suguru give back the months Satoru wasted on him?
Teachers and students alike bow to them as they go to their classrooms. Being prodigies amongst the elite has so many perks Shoko would not be able to point them all out. Suguru had been able to, and they had all been willing to learn the privileges they had gotten from birth. Iori had found the concept of thrifting fascinating, but Satoru was the one who went the extra mile and accompanied Suguru to his favorite second-hand stores. Shoko has not tried, because she did not want to third-wheel this activity. Maybe she should have.
Satoru strides through hallways like the ground worships his every step, but his face is relaxed as he banters with Iori. His hand has not left Shoko’s, and she can already hear the rumors of them being together. She anticipates them by kissing Atsuya on the cheek once they enter class, and by outwards hugging Takuma. It is all about balance.
The first years are still on the weeklong trip to South Korea, which sucks tremendously. Suguru has never quite warmed up to them the way she had, as Satoru dragged their entire group over the younger year’s class.
Shoko had not understood either what Satoru saw in Tsumiki, Yuuta, Toge, and Maki at first, but clearly, there was something important to him. Iori had warmed up more towards Mai and Aoi. Kento had not cared, because he was chill and cool like that. Atsuya had been afraid it would ruin their reputation as the popular group, to hang out with charity cases and younger students. If anything, the opposite had happened. People thought Satoru - and what a joke this was, honestly - was a good role model, a brotherly figure. That is somewhat right because everyone in their school looks up to them. Moreover, Yuuta and Tsumiki see Satoru through pink-lensed glasses. That had pissed Suguru off, and now Shoko relishes in it. Satoru can take a bit of love from others, seeing as he has lost his main source of it.
Which brings her back to Suguru.
Shoko is spiteful, to an extent others never suspect, never anticipate, never prepare for. Nobody ever regards her as a wrongdoer. Pity for them, blessing for her. And she is fiercely, destructively, dangerously protective of hers. Iori is hers, Kento, Atsuya, and Takuma are hers, and her father is hers. Suguru had been hers.
But the first person she has ever protected is her favorite boy, the one who held her even when her rage, directed at the whole world, rebounded on him. Her father had approved of Satoru there and then, the boy was willing to lie to protect a girl he was not even infatuated with.
Satoru, for all his brains and money, is stupidly fond of some people. Which troubles him more than favors him. His love stands ignored like some pesky assignments left ungraded. Shoko loathes it.
She ponders for a few seconds whether or not they should text the middle schoolers in the group. Atsuya has vehemently refused to interact with them, and Takuma has followed his lead. Iori finds them uninteresting and Kento has not given them the time of the day so far. However, Shoko knows how much they mean to Satoru. So she makes the effort, once more.
Plus, Yuji’s family is well-off, Nobara’s parents work in the international market rather than local, and Megumi is the hidden heir of another dynasty. Atsuya is missing some incredible connections there.
“Hey Sho’, can you skip tonight’s reunion with the Student’s office?” Satoru is hunched over her table, silky hair on display as his face rests on his arms. Pale and pretty prince, with foreign looks and profound eyes hidden in the crown of his jacket, pushed over his cheeks.
Shoko can see from the outside the many onlookers they always gather. There are far more girls than boys, and some are here for her, sure, but most are here for him.
Satoru’s life has been recorded by onlookers since he was introduced to the public eye at the age of five. Perfect little soldier, an attractive and obedient machine. Up until he entered high school and met Suguru. Sometimes, she wants to wrap him in bubble wrap and hide him from the entire planet. She had thought, naively, that Suguru understood the urge. Apparently not.
On her demand, her father had found someone who hacked Suguru’s electronics and a private detective to track his family. She had wanted to know if he had been blackmailed into leaving them and if he had been pressured by external sources which she would crush mercilessly. Her father always found her incredibly smart and cunning when she has a clear goal in mind, she goes at it like a meticulous surgeon, he said.
It had been for naught; Suguru had a change of mind once that scholarship student Riko died, and Yuu’s transfer was the last straw. Pity. Still, she had made it so Suguru’s phone and laptop were cleaned of all their conversations, photos, videos, and anything related to them. Did he want to cut them off his life? Fine. On her terms then.
“I’ll have to see with the President,” she drawls lightly. Satoru flinches and Iori’s eyes widen. Iori knows Shoko is more likely to punch Suguru’s teeth out and start a bullying campaign on him than to politely ask him to take a day off from her responsibilities.
“I thought Kento filled for you for now?” The confusion swimming in his eyes is adorable, and she ruffles his hair tenderly. She hears pictures being taken but she does not care. Even if Satoru ruined all marriage proposals for her in the future, she would rather have it this way. Anyone who does not understand their bond can die far away from them. The same goes for Iori, the boys and all the baby ducklings Satoru has taken under his wing.
“I’ll ask Kento then,” she compromises. Iori deflates from her panic as Satoru’s eyes sparkle with contentment. Her favorite people in the whole world.
“Miss Ieiri,” a sub-teacher calls for her at the entrance of the class. She rises with grace, and conversations stop around the class, chatters die in the hallways. The only one who does not seem to mind has teasel eyes and charcoal bangs, seated in the back of the room like a wannabe gangsta. His most devoted fan, Manami giggles so loudly it sounds like a gilt. Whatever, Shoko already has her vengeance planned for her, the annoyance she warrants deserves her father to lose his job. Shoko’s not too mean, after all, Manami is a girl, and the only thing she will be good for is marriage. Her father will simply be demoted. She probably will have to leave their school. Who knows? Her parents would have difficulties affording the tuition, and Manami is not clever enough to get here by smarts. Stupid little bug. She just had to ally herself with the person Shoko could not erase yet.
What to do with Suguru, what to do…
“Yes sir?” Her voice is clear as she speaks, her head maintained high and her posture impeccable. Her manners teacher would be most proud.
“The principal has called for you in his office. He says it’s regarding your recent concern with… the acceptance of bursary students?”
Shoko hears some gasps, and Suguru finally stops talking. A proof he has always been listening. Does he realize now, the power they wield? The power he used to wield by pure association?
Satoru is staring at her, there is a frown on his face she does not like. She promised so far not to hurt Suguru’s family and not to kick him out of the school. Shoko respects her promises, and she values Satoru’s opinion as much as her father’s. Suguru will not be kicked out by her. She has other projects. Suguru is a mere footnote in her busy agenda, regardless of all the time spent thinking about him.
“It will probably be about the Ieiri grant, thank you, Sir. Can you please inform the teacher as to why I will probably be missing the first period?”
She ambles towards the Dean’s office, people still inclining their heads with respect. Her father is the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, as had been her grandmother, and her great grandfather. Shoko is walking a path well-worn already. Although, her aunt did choose to become the Minister of Finances. Shoko could decide to stride a bit to the left in her future.
Once the Dean’s secretary notices her silhouette, the lady rushes to the phone to inform the Dean. Shoko makes a benevolent smile at the woman. The Hermes bag at her desk had been offered by Shoko’s godmother for the lady’s birthday. Hopefully, Shoko will never get too drunk on the power that she possesses. Iori is good at knocking her out of her frenzies usually, and Satoru is her secret tether to the real world.
“I hope the morning was pleasant to you Sir”, she offers as a greeting. The Dean is sitting on the couch, with a maid tending to the tea. Shoko strolls towards the seat intended for her.
“It has been treating me well, Miss Ieiri. How do you fare today?”
“I have been well, I thank you for your concern, Sir. I heard you called for me?” She decides to dive straight into the subject, through means a bit more direct than usual. The Dean’s hands twitch on his teacup, which means he noticed her sour mood. That is why Shoko likes him, sensitive to the changes around him, and attentive to his students. A much better choice than the one before, no doubt. She will have to send a letter to thank her grandmother, whose power still throws a protective aura around her entire family.
“Of course, I wish not to hinder your precious studies. It is about the Ieiri grants. Your lawyers informed us that you wished to finance those yourself. We have to look into the source of the money we are provided, as I am sure you are aware.”
Shoko nods along, sipping her tea slowly.
“While my first start-up has served to fund the maternity hospitals and my second has been used to sponsor green energy projects, I have yet to find something my clothing brand could support. I then realized how precious it is to give back to those who helped you along the way. And of course, our school imposed itself in my mind. Who has aided me more than your institution, sir?”
The question is rhetorical, as the director is motioning for his assistant to take notes. Iori had financed the last vacation of the man’s family, and he looks at their entire group like they possess the country.
Not that far off, if you were to count Satoru's family as an extension of hers.
“I loathe to but I have to ask if the funds of that endeavor of yours are stable enough to support such an operation.”
Shoko ticks her head at this. She is secretly amused, but she loves to see the Dean squirm in front of her. It takes guts to question an Ieiri. She continues to sip her drink slowly, as the maid offers her a strawberry cake. It’s one of her favorite school chefs who made it, she recognizes by the twirl of the cream. It will not taste as sweet on her tongue as her mother’s, but it’s a close second.
She hums happily as she takes the plate, before leveling the Dean with a benevolent gaze.
“My brand already made several millions of profits this year. I’m talking in dollars. I would never be so brash as to make promises I couldn’t satisfy. The grant I think of offering has, however, clear-cut conditions. And I wish to personally review the candidates.”
“It was never my intent to doubt you, Miss Ieiri,” the Dean folds before her, “However reviewing each application would take much of your time. Our school has over six thousand applicants for twenty scholarship offers, each year. As for your conditions, I hope we can further discuss them, as your lawyers themselves were not quite sure how to formulate them.”
“But of course,” she agrees calmly. “I hope for the school to preselect a list of a hundred students. I will then personally decide which ten girls will be granted the scholarship. I need more talented individuals by my side, surely you can imagine why. What better way to obtain those than by forming them myself?”
The assistant nods vehemently at his smaller desk. And the maid looks at Shoko with mixed awe and fear. It’s a look Shoko is quite keen on. She notes in her mind to offer the lady something. Maybe a new pair of shoes, her boots seem a few years old already.
“Of course, have you taken notes of all this Hiroto?” The Dean turns towards the assistant, who bows his head in affirmation as he keeps writing.
“Now on the topic of my terms,” Shoko appeals, “the participants must all be girls in ninth grade, they must already master English and have a good grasp of a third language that is studied here. I have a preference for French. Their grades have to be impeccable, I expect at least ninety percent, and they should already know the basics of Japanese philosophy. They need to either have been helping their parents with side work, managing their siblings, or have to be participating in a sport of the form of art valued at our prestigious academy.”
“It was that last condition that quite confused us, to be quite honest. Would it not be more simple to only take students who already have achievements in sports or arts?”
Shoko’s gaze is cold now, as she observes the man in front of her.
“Dear Dean, surely you are aware that most girls are attributed responsibilities by their families, such as the raising of the siblings, or helping them in their line of work in the event they manage a shop or a restaurant? Girls’ education is still valued less than boys’ in our country, which is a tragic custom coming from some obsolete traditions. Our renowned school has the goal to shape the leaders of tomorrow. It will not be shocking news for you to hear that eighty percent of our bursary students are men. What do you think of that fact?”
The man squirms but this time, Shoko’s amusem*nt is far.
“I believe it is tragic that our entire school population is divided into thirty percent girls and seventy percent males. And I believe that we need to offer girls a chance to prove themselves just as much as boys.”
The assistant has stopped taking notes, but Shoko remarks the pleased smile of the maid. Shoko will personally get her a new coat with those shoes.
“Some girls are just as competent as any other student but are hindered in their studies by family responsibilities. This rather tends to shape them into efficient and proactive leaders, which we need more than hereditary princelings. Would you not agree, Sir?”
The Dean nods vehemently.
“Of course, Miss Ieiri. I do have to ask, if those girls already have such responsibilities, don’t you think it will deteriorate the quality of their studies? Our school has a rhythm that requires students to put their all into their schooling.”
“I happen to believe in more than grades and diplomas, Sir. After all, I am only seventeen but I possess quite a fortune to my own name, detached from my parents’. I want qualified individuals, but I am willing to shape them myself for a reason. I will provide needed accommodations as it goes. I will personally get to know my first tutees next March, and then I will elect one of them to watch over the following years. If the family needs an extra person to watch over their children or take over some work, I am willing to offer that person.”
“You will be creating indebted followers.” The Dean looks a bit bemused and Shoko concedes it with a smile. Maybe she is raising an army of loyal devotees. But her mother had done the same, and both her grandmothers had advised for it. Ieiri built themselves on inventions, good timing, and connections.
“This is why I will let you choose through a first selection, candidates you would like to see in our institution. Miss Utahime will most likely make a similar offer next year if my concept gets the expected results. I am sure you are aware of what good publicity it would offer you internationally, to be an elite school so keen on providing the best, regardless of social status.”
The bell rings, indicating the start of the first period. There is no love lost for the geography lesson Ieiri is missing, she already knows everything. Yuu had a two-month-long period during which he breathed and existed solely to tell facts about Europe. Suguru had indulged him too much.
“What of the name, Miss Ieiri,” the assistant addresses next, once their point is settled over more tea. The cake is flavorful and the cream is light like clouds. her mother would have loved it.
“I thought Ieiri Grants were a good proposition, but I am open to other possibilities,” she admits as she puts down her cup. She is in no hast.
“We thought something more personal to you specifically might be more meaningful. You are the one financing the scholarships. It would mean more to the school to honor you more significantly. We thought maybe the grant could be named Shoko Ieiri Grant, using the kanji of “bright” and “child” as a way to represent both you and your tutees.”
Shoko muses over the idea for a few seconds before inclining her head.
“I will talk about it with my lawyers, but I appreciate the idea.”
Shoko waits a few more seconds before the Dean rises and thanks her for her time. She heads towards the door as the assistant rushes to open it. She offers a kind smile to the maid who served her the entire meeting. She inclines her head to the secretary outside, before making her way back to her class.
She takes her phone out in the meantime, talking to her lawyer team along the way. Maria, the only foreigner amongst them, asks if Shoko has decided on the Geto situation. Shoko remembers her promise. Of course, she does. And she will own up to it. Suguru will stay unharmed in this institution, and his family will not suffer any damage.
But Suguru’s sisters won’t ever be able to enter this school or any of the top twenty universities. The two girls or any of Suguru’s descendants. Banished from the Ivy leagues in the US, or any top school in Europe. One of the many deals she made, amongst other things. She has not done anything job-related yet. It will depend on how Satoru evolved. As of now, Shoko feels like ordering an assassination as a car accident of Suguru’s entire family.
Satoru had been wise to make her promise. There is a reason he was her favorite boy. (There are so many reasons he is her saving grace. Her mother would have loved Satoru to the depth of hell.)
But Shoko has her own motives, and Satoru’s main enemy has always been himself. And his parents, but there is little Shoko can do to one of the few dynasties above her. The Kamo House and her have a tacit understanding not to step on each other’s toes. The Zen’In Clan is a bit more complicated, simply because she does not respect what they did to their children. Every time Father mentions them, Shoko only sees the scars on Maki’s legs, the flinch in every of Mai’s moves. The way Tsumiki and Megumi were brought up. But the Gojo Clan... the Gojo Clan is the only family truly above the Ieiri/ The one she cannot threaten. So she will deal with the ones of Satoru's enemies that she can reach.
Shoko knows she does not have to go back for the entire duration of the first period. She decides to sit herself in the library. The second period is Advanced French, which is a fancy way to say that only her group and a few others will attend.
Before, she had hated that Suguru chose Russian as his second language. Satoru and she had taken it as their fourth, which meant they were in widely different levels for all the languages-related classes.
Not that they were not fluent in Russian, French, or Chinese, which had been their third language. But that meant a good twenty hours separated on their timetable. Which sucked. Same for Advanced Physics and Chemistry, which only allowed Satoru. Shoko had never had an interest in those, preferring Biology over it.
She took out her laptop, having a rough half-hour left. She checked the stock market and invested or sold for half that time. Once ten minutes were left, she took her phone back to open Pixiv. Tsumiki had told her yesterday that she posted a new chapter of her story and Shoko had yet to find the time to read it. The fact that Tsumiki wrote it in French means Shoko could continue in class, given that Satoru does not try to read over her shoulder.
The fact that Tsumiki gave Shoko her Pixiv account but not Satoru is something that made her very fond of the girl. It was also the fastest way Shoko had witnessed anyone endear themselves to Iori. A true talent, that girl. Shoko wishes she had snatched her loyalty before Satoru did.
Whatever, they belong in the same camp anyway. Plus, she is Megumi’s favorite.
Once the bell rings a second time, Shoko closes her laptop, takes her bag, and pushes her chair neatly back in place. The librarian nods at her as she passes, reaching one of the Advanced classrooms.
Madame Joly is already there, a pile of novels stacked cleanly next to her laptop.
“Bonjour mademoiselle Ieiri, comment allez-vous?”
“Bonjour Madame Joly, je vais bien, merci. Qu’en est-il de vous?” She inquires, as she puts her bag down. They do not need any notebook or screen for this class, they only discuss French culture and politics, since they are all fluent in the language.
“Et bien vous serez surprise d’apprendre que j’ai une excellente nouvelle à vous annoncer, mademoiselle. Mais nous allons devoir nous retenir de partager l’information avant que tout le monde ne soit présent,” Madame Joly settles with excitement. Shoko would bet on a trip, but she cannot be too sure. Last year, they had gone a full two weeks visiting French castles and tasting delicacies. She remembers it well because at the time, they had managed to drag Suguru along and Satoru and him had shared a room. Even if it had been late June, Satoru had worn a turtleneck so high even fashion could not excuse it. Suguru’s grin had been wolfish. Iori had mimicked throwing up the entire time. It was extremely funny.
Now the memory tastes sour. She is almost hoping it will not be a trip, simply for the memories it would bring out of Satoru.
Her two best friends enter the room with a polite salute to the teacher, who talks to them for a few seconds before allowing them to sit at the round table. This room is their Discussion RoomTM.
“Comment était la leçon de Géographie,” she asks because she has manners. Or maybe Shoko just wants to hear them both complain loud enough to drown her nervousness.
“Crois-moi, tu n’as rien raté,” Iori bemoans as Satoru grumbles before hugging her half aggressively.
“Nous avions déjà discuté de tout avec Yuu l’année dernière. Pire révision que j’ai vu. Mais,” Satoru leans back, “nous avons pu compléter les dires du professeur, notamment lorsqu’il a mentionné l’importance des fleuves pour le commerce européen.”
“Cela en était presque barbant,” Iori finishes as she sets herself on Shoko’s other side. She looks at the novels placed on the desk with curiosity. Satoru throws them a sideways glance before continuing the conversation with Shoko. He most likely has noticed, just like Shoko did, that those are books Tsumiki has already begged them to read a few weeks back. Megumi hates French and the girl had been overjoyed to discover that her two upperclassmen shared her passion.
Le Comte de Monte Cristo might be the only one Shoko has not read, but only because the hardcover copy she ordered is still over at Tsumiki’s house. Shoko did not find it in herself to ask for it back. Tsumiki had been so ecstatic, and Shoko could just order another.
Plus, Alexandre Dumas is Tsumiki’s favorite nineteenth-century author.
Once the three other students of the advanced class, Océane, Kilari, and Naomi arrive, the teacher closes the door.
“Comme je l’ai mentionné plus tôt à mademoiselle Ieiri, j’ai une excellente nouvelle à vous annoncer!” Satoru perks up at that, always one to love entertainment.
“Nous avons eu l’autorisation d’aller au Québec. Nous pourrons également visiter les institutions gouvernementales au Canada, ainsi que plusieurs associations sur la conservation de la faune et la flore. J’ai fait attention de concevoir un planning avec assez d’activité pour fatiguer même les plus énergiques du groupe,” her eyes glance towards Satoru at that, and Iori hides her laughter behind her hand. Océane smiles and grins at the other girls. Naomi looks overjoyed and Kilari must be making plans of her own because her gaze is fixated on the wall but she has got a dreamful smile.
“Nous visiterons bien entendu les chutes du Niagara, Kingston, Montréal et la Baie de Fundy, mais nous avons encore quelques trous dans notre emploi du temps. Nous partirons pour une durée totale de dix jours, du 8 au 18 décembre. Si jamais vous avez des idées d’activités ou de lieux à visiter, n’hésitez pas à m’en informer,” Madame Joly finishes with a giant smile.
The teacher distributes some informational flyers, and Shoko recognizes the organization of the school even in those documents. Everything is written down, and all instructions are premade.
She risks a glance towards Satoru. He is tense, his smile faked as his eyes are distant. She takes his hand under the table, saying nothing for now. They will talk over lunch and some more tonight. Satoru sleeps at hers this week.
Iori and her share a meaningful look. Then, Madame Joly starts talking about actualities in France. An important football club has been bought by some Russian oligarch which upsets sports critics and public opinion. Debates on the French approach to a deal with Australia have been occupying all of the Assemblée Nationale’s sessions and the Sénat has been disapproving of a social policy. Harvests all over Europe have greatly influenced the price of food and Shoko makes a note to sell her stocks in French firms at lunch. Madame Joly’s information is often faster than the media. Just last week, Satoru managed to buy a castle before it had even been officially on sale, just because of an off-handed comment their teacher had provided.
They had yet to plan a visit for it, but Shoko and Satoru were hopeful for this summer.
At this rate, Satoru and Shoko would really be expected to be married. Not like they could make their coming out. Thank god that Shoko’s family loved her more than they should and that she wielded money and bribes like extents of her hands. Thank god that her precious treasure used politics and diplomacy like it ran in his veins.
Shoko focuses on the remainder of the class, already readying herself for the conversation that is sure to follow. She cannot ever get mad at Satoru. Which leaves her with one option only. What to do with Suguru…
“Sho’,” her angel calls as the bell rings. Madame Joly smiles at them and leads them out, instructing them to watch a debate of the Assemblée Nationale for the next class. Iori will probably make them do it during lunchtime. Satoru gives the funniest commentary. Suguru used to add to that, his dry tone propelling all of them to laugh out loud, ungracefully. They do that even without him, but not in public. Shoko’s grandmother had mentioned having seen a video of her granddaughter snorting inelegantly at the cafeteria.
Maybe Suguru erasing himself from their group is a good thing. If so, time will prove her right.
“Yes, sweet thing?” Iori snickers discreetly at their front, leading them to their next class. There is a duo of younger girls asking her some questions, and Iori indulges them. She has always been very kind to kids.
“My dearest love, when will you stop with that,” he tries to flirt along, but the blush on his ears is still present for her to savor. She is so fond of that boy, it is a bit disheartening.
“How went the deal with the Sakamoto for the expansion of Wisteria?”
“Ah, it fell through. Ayame discovered the boss dealt drugs on the side. I cannot associate with him anymore. But we struck a deal with the Takemi instead!”
“Wasn’t it your second choice,” Satoru continues, uncaring of the gawkers around them. He straightens the sleeves of his jacket as they walk.
“Yes, but they were just as amenable to all my requests, so I’m willing to let this go. I did inform my father about the Sakamoto though.”
“And does Shirase know you will start commerce with her father?”
Iori turns around as they reach their class. Shoko is still tapping quickly on her phone, sending multiple texts to her lawyers' team. Her assistant, Ayame, has taken the day off after working the whole weekend of the Wisteria deal.
“Enough about your deals, you two. We have to get into the mood of class!”
“For World History?” Shoko deadpans as Satoru smiles arrogantly.
“Voyons Iori,” he starts with a sweet tone. “Ne me dis pas que tu ne sais pas déjà tout ce que notre professeur a à enseigner aujourd’hui. That would be quite shameful,” he drawls in a mimicry of Suguru’s voice. Shoko notices with no little disgust that the surrounding students are fixated on her treasure, staring at him like he just compelled them into his bed. Nauseous.
Iori blushes vividly before shoving Satoru to the side. Shoko almost failed to notice it, but her radar was still working well. She extends an arm quickly, stopping Suguru from colliding with Satoru. Iori notices quickly and smiles something fake at Satoru before dragging him to class. He had not turned to see who was behind him. Good.
“You would do well to pay attention to your surroundings,” Shoko threatens with a sweet smile before following her friends. The boy behind her is not reacting except for a raise of his brow. He still does not realize, it seems, the hatred Shoko holds for him. He should be groveling at Satoru’s feet, thanking him for his mercy. His weakness.
But her boy can have some weaknesses, as long as he allows Shoko to cover for them.
Satoru and Iori are already seated on the second rank, as is their designated spot. World history is only full of things already covered by their private tutors on weekends. Their teacher Mr Saito is well aware of that fact and lets their little group do whatever they want in the meantime as long as they stay quiet. Suguru and Satoru had never managed, but Shoko knows it won’t be a problem anymore.
She doesn’t bother wasting another glance at the back, she knows Suguru will have his act up. Satoru, on the other hand, deserves all her attention.
