NOVEL NEXT Chapter 10: Chapter 9
"Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better." Albert Camus
Knock Knock Knock
"Yeah, I'm coming!"
Knock Knock Knock
"Calm the fuck down, I said I'm coming!"
Who the hell is pounding on my door like the building's on fire? It's 8 p.m., and unless someone's life is hanging by a thread, there's no excuse for this level of disruption. Ryuen wouldn't show up unannounced, and Kanzaki and Albert? Nah, they'd never barged in like this without prior notice. As for Ibuki, she wouldn't just pop by without a valid reason; her spontaneous nature rarely steered her to anyone else's domain, least of all mine.
So who the hell could it be? My mind races with the possibilities, the irritation simmering just under the surface. The world I've built around my training is sacred—a sanctuary from the chaos that often surrounds my life. Disrupting it is nothing short of an act of war.
Knock Knock Knock
I open the door, annoyance etched on my face, ready to verbally obliterate whoever decided to ruin my evening. My training is sacred—interrupting it is an act of war.
I swing the door open, fully prepared to give my unexpected visitor a piece of my mind, and instead, I'm met with a rather bizarre sight. Standing on the threshold are two figures I don't recognize.
One is a black-haired boy with glasses, his demeanor refined and annoyingly smug, radiating an air of superiority that makes my skin crawl. Next to him stands a petite girl with vibrant purple hair, her large, doe-like eyes fixed on me, the faint blush on her cheeks.
I narrow my eyes, taking in this peculiar duo. The boy adjusts his glasses confidently, exuding that irritating "know-it-all" aura that nerds tend to carry along with their school books. Meanwhile, the little purple-haired girl clings to his side as if seeking support against the impending tempest that is my annoyance.
"I am sorry but who are you two?" I asked.
"My name is Horikita Manabu, and this is my secretary, Tachibana," he asserts, his tone impeccably formal.
Manabu...Horikita? The school council president?
"It's 8 p.m. I don't think you should be at my room at such a time senpai."
"Well, we need to discuss something important, Takashiro," he insists, his posture unwavering.
"Tomorrow, I guess," I retort defiantly, preparing to shut the door to reclaim my peace.
Before I can fully close the door, Horikita calmly places his hand against it, stopping it dead in its tracks. His grip is firm but not aggressive, clearly accustomed to maintaining control in tense situations.
"This matter cannot wait until tomorrow," he says, his voice unwaveringly composed, like a composed general on a battlefield. "It's in your best interest to hear me out now, Takashiro."
I raise an eyebrow, letting go of the door but still holding my ground.
"You are currently disturbing my personal time, whatever you have to talk about can wait till tomorrow. Also I am currently topless if you can't see."
Horikita adjusts his glasses—a seemingly mundane movement that somehow amplifies his composure. The light glints off the lenses, momentarily catching my attention before I return to his unwavering gaze. Despite the gravity of the situation, he remains unshaken, but I can sense an undercurrent of authority in his voice.
"I understand your concern, Takashiro," he says evenly. "But trust me, this conversation cannot wait. Time is a luxury neither of us can afford in this matter."
Tachibana steps forward hesitantly, her voice soft yet deliberate. "Takashiro-san, the president is not one to waste time on trivial matters. If he says this is urgent, you'd do well to listen."
"I don't care. I said tomorrow, and then it's tomorrow," I assert, my tone final.
Horikita's hand doesn't move from the door, and his expression hardens ever so slightly. It's subtle, but the shift in his aura makes it clear he's not used to being brushed off.
"Your stubbornness is noted," he says, a quiet edge lacing his tone. "But let me make something clear, Takashiro: you don't get to dictate the terms of this conversation. You'll hear me out—"
I swiftly deliver a kick that sends him flying several meters back, crashing onto the ground with a heavy thud.
Horikita hits the floor with an audible bang, his glasses thankfully still intact, albeit slightly askew. Tachibana gasps, her eyes widening in shock as she rushes to his side, concern flashing across her features.
"You dare attack the student council president?" she hissed, kneeling beside him.
Horikita, to his credit, recovers swiftly. He methodically adjusts his glasses, brushing off his uniform as he stands, an air of stubborn resolve surrounding him despite his ruffled appearance.
I watch as he steadies himself, maintaining his civil demeanor even in the face of adversity. He wipes away imaginary dust from his blazer, a hint of irritation flickering in his eyes as he surveys the scene. Tachibana remains close by, loyalty evident in her worried expression.
"Are you alright, President?" she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper, laden with empathy.
"I'm fine," he replies tersely, readjusting his glasses in an almost ritualistic manner.
"We'll talk tomorrow," I state emphatically, my decision firm.
Horikita takes a moment to gather himself, clearly flustered but still exuding that infuriatingly calm presence. Tachibana looks between us, her concern palpable, a silent plea etched on her features as she weighs the tension in the air.
"Listen, Takashiro—" Horikita tries to interject again, his voice steady, but I cut him off, unwilling to entertain him further.
"I said we'll talk tomorrow." I ensure each word resonates with finality, making it unmistakably clear that the conversation has reached its end.
Tachibana casts an anxious glance at Horikita, disbelief and worry swirling in her eyes, the emotional storm evident on her face. "But, President—"
He shakes his head gently but firmly, silencing her with a subtle gesture that carries authority. "No, Tachibana. He's made his decision." The edge to his voice is undeniable, yet it also carries an acceptance of my refusal, despite the underlying frustration simmering just below the surface.
"Exactly," I affirm, a hint of satisfaction creeping into my voice, my resolution solidified. "Tomorrow, you've got my attention then, but right now? I'm done."
Horikita straightens his blazer, a fleeting flicker of annoyance crossing his features before being seamlessly replaced by that trademark poise he wears like armor. "Understood, Takashiro. We'll reconvene tomorrow, then."
He steps back, his presence still commanding even from a distance, radiating an aura of regality that stands starkly against the chaos of our encounter. It seems like an eternity as I take the opportunity to slam the door shut, finally reclaiming my peace and severing the irritating disruption that had intruded on my sanctuary.
"Goodnight, Takashiro," Tachibana manages to call out just before the door clicks shut, her voice a mix of disappointment and lingering concern, echoing in the stillness that follows.
Leaning against the door, I allow a sigh to escape my lips, shaking my head slowly as disappointment simmers just below the surface. Honestly, the nerve of some people.