—
13.0
—
I recalled the day Hazel, Sullivan, Harley, and I were having a very important meeting. It was about the big day—the election day. Nomura-sensei had handed Hazel the programme guide and information notes earlier that morning, so we knew what to expect and could plan accordingly. We sat in the study room; the atmosphere was packed with both excitement and tension. The table was cluttered with notes, pens, and cups of coffee.
“There are three rounds we need to focus on,” Hazel began, spreading out the programme guide on the table. “The Officiate Question Round, President Question Round, and Audience Question Round. Each is crucial and offers us weapons we can use to sway the voting population to our side.”
She pointed to the first section of the guide. “The Officiate Question Round involves an official from the school asking four general questions that each Vice President representative has to answer. These questions are usually basic, focusing on explaining the objectives of the election team.”
“Sounds straightforward enough,” I responded, making a mental note.
“It is,” Hazel agreed, “but we can’t take it lightly. We need to be clear and concise, showcasing our strengths from the start.”
I nodded, understanding the importance of making a strong first impression. Hazel moved on to the next section.
“The President’s Question Round is where things get interesting. This is where the presidents from each team ask the questions. It’s designed to drill the opponents, exposing any weaknesses or flaws in their plans and objectives. It involves multiple back-and-forths between the opponents. The key aim of this round is to plant doubt in the minds of the audience about your opponent.”
“Right,” Hazel replied, echoing Harley's statement. She then pointed to the final section on the guide. “The Audience Question Round is the most technical. It’s designed to reinforce the audience’s understanding of our plan. Representatives from every class in every year of the school ask the candidates questions. Seniors get to ask two questions, while juniors only get one. Once a representative from a year asks a candidate a question, no other representative from that year can question that candidate again.”
“The entirety of Year 11 isn’t allowed to participate in this stage,” Sullivan added, leaning back in his chair. “Each candidate is given a minute to answer the question they’re asked.”
“It’s designed to test our ability to think on our feet and manage pressure,” Hazel said. “We have to be quick, clear, and convincing. And remember, the school likes to throw in plot twists.”
“Plot twists?” I repeated, intrigued.
“Yep. That’s what we students refer to them as,” Hazel said, expanding on the term. “As the name suggests, it’s the school finding ways to change things during the events. For instance, last year during the President’s Question Round, they had every member apart from the president ask and answer the questions.”
“So that's why everyone on the team is practicing the questions and answers,” I said, now fully grasping the importance of thorough preparation.
“Exactly,” Hazel confirmed. “We have to be ready for anything they might throw our way.”
“Right.” Harley, who had been silently listening, agreed with Hazel’s point.
With wildcards in play throughout this election, it was critical that we covered as much as possible to avoid anything that could cost us victory.
That brings us to today. The fateful day.
—
13.1
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The clock stopped with just a second remaining, and I was impressed by how Amelie managed to time her responses perfectly, every single time. This Officiate Question Round, which was initially intended to have just four questions, was now on its sixth. The time durations for each question varied, ranging from 30 seconds to as low as 10 seconds. The order in which the teams had to respond kept changing too.
Asato, who had started out strong in the beginning, began stumbling as the questions went beyond their limit and the time lessened; the pressure was getting to him. Overall, Hazel had adapted well, but I could tell she was feeling the pressure. Her calm and measured tone from the start had become more rushed and tense.
Amelie, on the other hand, was a different story. Despite the mounting pressure, she maintained her poise and grace. Each answer she gave seemed meticulously rehearsed, delivered with the same smooth precision every time. It almost felt like she had prior knowledge of the questions and their accompanying twists, but that was impossible given the school's stringent regulations against any unfair advantages.
“Final question. What is one sentence that can be used to describe your team?” Mr. Sinclair asked, and the timer began a five-second countdown, the shortest time given so far.
“Our team…” Asato paused, trying to quickly gather his thoughts. The pressure was palpable. “We are focused on creating a better student life…” The timer ran out before he could finish, and he fell silent, frustration visible on his face.
“A mix of individuals from different views, goals, and ambitions, putting that aside for one objective,” Amelie said calmly, once again perfectly timing her response to end with one second left.
“We are a group of people who want to make the most of this and have fun along the way,” Hazel said, finishing just as the timer stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief, proud of how she handled herself throughout the round. Although she had the occasional hiccups, she was able to pull through and adapt adequately. That deserved praise.
“That is all from me. Thank you,” Mr. Sinclair said, and the announcer returned to the stage.
“The next round is about to begin. May the presidential candidates of each group step forward.”
On cue, we went forward as our vice presidents returned to where the rest of our team members were. As I passed by Hazel, our eyes met, and I gave her an approving nod. She responded with a faint smile, knowing she had done her best. Now, it was my turn.
“Now we will begin the Presidents’ Question Round,” the announcer stated. I glanced down at the podium and noticed a small red LED light in the right corner. It seemed I wouldn't be the first to speak.
“Marcus,” a voice said through the speaker. I turned my attention to the one challenging me. Cohen stood there with a nihilistic smile, exuding overwhelming confidence. “I want you to explain something to both me and the audience. Yesterday, your entire campaign plans, questions, and answers were leaked. That might not bother some people, but it does bother me. Why should someone who can't control and contain the flow of information within his group be allowed on the student council? Isn't this just a show of incompetence on your part?”
He came out swinging. Well, it made the most sense, as this issue could be fueled even more by him, but I was prepared for it. In fact, his bringing it up this early worked in my favour.
“Incompetence? That's an interesting way to put it. The truth is, no one stated that our campaign promises were meant to be secret. Am I right?” I replied, standing tall and confident.
“Of course, but that doesn't mean there aren't expectations for a group to keep such information from leaking out,” Cohen countered, his smugness evident.
“Something I do wonder is why you're so confident. What makes you think this was a leak?” I said, turning the tables on him.
“What?” Cohen was clearly astonished by my approach.
“Exactly. Throughout this debate, you've insisted it was a leak. What gave you that idea?” I pressed, leaning slightly forward to emphasise my point.
“Are you trying to say that you purposely released the information?” Cohen asked, his confidence wavering.
“You're on the mark,” I responded, folding my arms and remaining calm.
“We know that’s not true,” he insisted, trying to regain control.
“Oh? What’s that supposed to mean? Why not explain it to the audience?” I challenged him, my tone inviting him to dig his own grave.
He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. I could see the gears turning in his head. I smiled faintly, everything going according to plan. I then gave an audible sigh, adding to the dramatic effect.
“Jumping to conclusions and making assumptions like that can get you into trouble. We released the information to the public for one reason: to become the talk of the town,” I said, letting my words sink in.
The crowd murmured, the audience trying to piece together the meaning behind my words.
“Is that the narrative you're running with?” Cohen scoffed.
“I still don't understand why you're so adamant about disproving my claim. Why are you so certain that I'm trying to cover up a leak?” I pressed further.
Cohen furrowed his brow, evidently considering his next step. The timer ran out, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I glanced at the LED light, still red, then shifted my gaze to Tomiko, who had remained quiet until now.
“Cohen, this question is directed at you,” Tomiko began, her voice calm and measured. “Your campaign is built on the premise of competition, but I don't see how the school isn't already breeding healthy competition among its populace.”
“Are you trying to say that my goal is redundant?” Cohen responded almost immediately, his tone defensive.
“Exactly. The school's examination and grading system is optimal. There are numerous extracurricular tournaments and events across almost all clubs,” she stated firmly.
“The competition I am trying to implement is one between students that allows for personal growth across a multitude of areas, not just education,” Cohen argued, trying to regain his composure.
“You just dismissed the fact that you mentioned the extracurricular tournaments. Anyway, if it's direct competition you want, remember the school announced they were implementing a ranking system,” she pointed out.
“That is still educational,” Cohen remarked, his frustration showing.
Tomiko sighed, a tinge of disappointment on her face. “Then tell me what type of competitions you have in mind,” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“Quizzes, art tournaments, sports festivals, entrepreneurial tasks. These are among the few ideas I have regarding breeding healthy competition and fostering growth within us students,” Cohen responded.
“You mentioned sports festivals when there already is one,” Tomiko said.
“Do you really think the current sports festival is doing enough to highlight and demonstrate the skills of students?” Cohen asked, trying to regain the upper hand.
“As a matter of fact, I do. The previous sports festival had a total of 17 sporting events, and the school has been adding an event every year for some time now, as well as rotating out events. Aren't those enough?” she asked, her voice uncompromising.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Cohen remained silent, evidently attempting to come up with an appropriate response. What the hell was all this? That question was the bare minimum to expect, and he appeared to be completely unprepared for it. I wasn't sure what to believe because this was completely throwing me off, to the point where I didn't notice when the red light turned green and began flashing steadily.
“With the several processes that would be involved in authorising more competitive events, how would you go about trying to implement this in the fastest way possible, Cohen?” I asked, stepping forward. This was a basic question, and I decided to ask it because I needed to properly pace myself while on the offensive. If I went all in this early, I wouldn't have enough momentum to carry out the second phase of the plan properly.
“I would raise a proposal with management and mark it as urgent,” he said after some thought.
“Why would they choose to address it as urgent, though? As my fellow candidate has already pointed out, there are already a lot of competitive events in the school,” I pointed out.
“Does that mean the school is not ready to grow and continue expanding on this front?” Cohen inquired, his frustration bubbling to the surface.
“Of course it does. However, there are various levels of priority assigned to different tasks. The likely probability that your proposal would be given immediate priority is low, so what would you do in that regard?” I asked, maintaining my calm demeanour.
“I am saying that is not going to happen,” Cohen responded, his tone becoming increasingly hostile.
“Okay then, if you say so,” I said, taking a step back as the light turned back to red, signalling the end of my questioning.
“Marcus,” Tomiko called out my name with her calm tone. It seemed the order of questioning would constantly change. “In regards to the issue of priority, how would you get the school to prioritise your own proposals?”
I was expecting to have some of my questions redirected to me. It seemed weird that she chose to ask me the same question that Cohen had struggled with, but I would entertain it.
“It’s simple. I’ll show them the evidence to prove that a much more relaxed environment can foster growth,” I responded.
“But isn’t the school already aware of this?” she asked.
“Yes, they most likely are. However, part of my plan involves something massive, and that is to bring back the summer trips the school used to host,” I stated firmly.
The murmurs began again, this time louder than before. I could see the interest and scepticism in the audience's faces.
“That is a monumental task, and from what I have heard, you intend to plan a trip this summer. Am I correct?” Tomiko inquired.
“You heard that right,” I confirmed.
“We are in March at the moment. That means you have just over three months to plan that out. Do you really think that’s attainable?” Tomiko asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I do admit that the process would be long, and planning would have to be intricate, but having a good link between students and the management would speed up the process. Making quick decisions on things such as budget, safety protocols, and travel demands would make the process smoother,” I responded, emphasising each point.
Tomiko's finger tapped gently on her podium. “There are 541 students in the school right now. Even with all that planning, I don’t think you would be able to take all of us. The mode of transportation and the place of accommodation for that number of people would be difficult to come across. Aren’t I right?” she said.
This was a discussion point I expected to come up because it was one of the questions included in the leaked information we were preparing for.
“Yes, you are right. Saying that all the students would be able to follow along is just wishful thinking. So let me be honest with you all. My initial target was that the 121 students in the senior school would be able to go; however, the more optimistic scenario would be for just the Year 11 class to go. It would seem that I am just looking at my year, but that is not the case,” I responded. I took a short break to organise my thoughts, as this was critical for conveying clearly and suppressing any negative or sceptical ideas that might arise. “What I am doing is laying the foundation for these things to become common. I would work hard to ensure that even though the entirety of the senior year is unable to go, it will be possible next summer.”
That was all I had to say about the situation, and I waited to see if Tomiko had any follow-up questions, but it seemed that she chose not to counter my point.
This round of questioning continued for a while. Cohen's expression became irritated as he asked questions that exploited flaws in the leaked information, but I easily countered them. His barrage of questions focused on me, as mine did on him. Tomiko took a neutral approach, asking each of us questions interchangeably.
Soon, it was time for the final string of questions, about two hours after we had started the round.
“Chanel is a member of Class 3. A class that had our access to potential candidates limited by its leader, Cohen. As such, we are to find ways to solve this issue. For me, this involved making a move beforehand and acquiring my representative,” Tomiko said, addressing the audience this time. “However, what guaranteed that she would not try to sabotage me as Harley did with Marcus?”
Immediately, I understood what she was trying to do.
Tomiko paused, letting her words sink in. The audience mumbled, attempting to piece together her strategy. Cohen shifted uncomfortably, sensing the weight of her question.
“A representative who uses crude techniques to snuff out the competition and another who denies and lies to the face of the people in an attempt to manipulate the situation for his own gain. What a way of doing things,” Tomiko said. The seed of doubt had been sown, and if left unchecked, it would become a huge detriment. This girl was ready to eliminate both Cohen and me from the game in one fell swoop. “Marcus, Cohen says the information on your election campaign leaked, and you denied this fact. I do have evidence that proves this leak did, in fact, happen. What do you say to this?”
At this point, I was up against my true opponent, who had launched her attack. Exposing a lie would undermine my efforts and have negative consequences. She was careful with her wording to cover all possible grounds and leave me without a route to slip through. However, she was not the only one taking caution in their statements.
“That is where you are wrong, Tomiko. What you have is evidence of Harley betraying us, not a leak occurring. A betrayal that I never did deny,” I countered.
“I see. If that's the way you want to play this, then I'll bite. Yesterday at 12:41 p.m., the first post regarding the leak was made on the school's forum. However, the news had begun to spread much earlier than that. By looking at the document and comparing what you said here today, it is easy to see that you decided to change things, potentially at the last minute. You then decided to spin it in such a way that the leak was intentional, using it as a symbol to boast around and represent strength,” Tomiko said.
I couldn't help but smile at this point because she had read my plan like a book. However, there was something she didn't notice that would soon become apparent to her.
“Like I said, what you have is evidence of the betrayal, not a leak occurring. What has happened is nothing more than a display of my skill and ingenuity. A misdirection that my fellow candidates have fallen for,” I began my response. “We released the information yesterday to cause a stir, that's all. In fact, the document that was released was a draft from about two weeks ago. Although it could have gone either way, the desirable outcome was for me to shoot to the top of people's minds. I can say that worked pretty well. Did it not?”
I took a quick breath before proceeding. “There are several ways this could have ended badly, but that was not the case. We managed to cause confusion amongst our opponents, even though it was just minuscule. Basically, everything was just a show of strength. To show that even though my plans are known to everyone, that would not stop me.”
“That…” Tomiko said, then stopped herself as she began to ponder a bit. A smile appeared on her face. “Alright then. That is all the questions I have,” she said, withdrawing from the offensive. Had she realised what my end goal was?
The light turned green, indicating it was my turn next. At the moment, I was torn between two options. The first was to stick to the plan and continue to drill into Cohen; however, another option presented itself: to attack Tomiko instead.
For most of my preparations, I had made Cohen my main target, as I felt he might actually offer me the competition I needed to quench my thirst, but it turns out he was just a dud. As for Tomiko, we had decided to play fair with one another, and she was not my primary target, as I was okay with either of us winning. I took a deep breath as a fire lit in my eyes. It was pure, unbridled excitement.
“There are several ways to fight a battle. This question might not be related to this event in particular, but it would help both I and the audience have a better understanding of your psyche, Tomiko,” I began, shifting my weight slightly and leaning forward. The crowd's attention was palpable—a silent but eager presence.
“All right then, ask away,” she said with her usual calm demeanour. Her eyes met mine with a steady gaze, welcoming the challenge.
“Both you and Cohen assume that the information released yesterday was due to a leak rather than being an intentional plan, correct?” I asked, watching her closely. She hesitated and considered her response.
“I do have evidence that points to there being a leak, but since you insist there wasn't one, then I guess I'll have to take your word for it,” she said finally.
So she decided to withdraw the claim. It would be difficult to make my point now, but I could still do something with it.
“I do appreciate that, but I'd still love for you to try and prove what happened if it was a leak. Hypothetically, if you did suffer an information leak, how would you approach it?” I asked, folding my arms and tilting my head slightly to the side.
Tomiko paused, her eyes narrowing as she thought of the best response. The silence stretched, adding weight to her contemplation.
“I would probably deny all claims of such happening and try to cover it up as best I could, given that there is no evidence of such. However, if there was ever a profound testimony that came up, it would ruin my hard work and expose the narrative I tried to build,” she finally answered. “Marcus, what if the betrayal came from your own class and someone from within was sharing this information with your enemies? Such would pose a big risk, wouldn't it?” she asked, her tone serious.
Her words struck a chord, raising unsettling questions. Was there really someone within our class doing this? And if that were the case, who was it? As much as I wanted to find that out, it was not the time. I could use something to my advantage; we did promise one another to not play dirty so what I am about to do can not be classified under that.
“Yes, such a mole would pose a big risk. This is why team unity and cooperation are important so that such things can't happen,” I replied, my voice firm. “But Tomiko, I am aware you are the leader of Class 2, yet there is another faction in your class that opposes your rule. Can a representative who can’t keep her class members under control be trusted with managing the affairs of the school?”
I heard the crowd begin to murmur as my tactic began taking root. There were two ways out of this that she could take. The first is that she denies my claim but she would be careful about this as she would have no knowledge if I had any evidence to back up my claim. The second option means welcoming the claim and trying to spin it in the best way possible to take the least damage; however, that could end up backfiring heavily and she would dig her own grave if she messes up. Either option was a risky endeavour, so Tomiko, what would you pick?
“I assume you are talking about the issue with one of my classmates approaching you with malcious intent towards your campaign, right?” She said, choosing the second option.
“You are right,” I replied.
“Well, I did apologise for that, as those were never orders of mine.” She said.
“True and I don’t blame you for that, but human beings are complex creatures. We tend to have goals that are just too outlandish to comprehend,” I said, her eyes softening slightly.
“Indeed, you are right. Thank you, Marcus,” she said, and gave a nod of acknowledgement.
“No problem,” I responded with a faint smile.
It was not much but this should have an effect on people’s perception of Tomiko and I am sure during the break curious people would ask her classmates. If this is the time to oppose Tomiko, it would be now, so I was betting on Natsumi and whoever felt the same as her to take action.
With that, my round of questioning ended, and to wrap everything up, it was Cohen's turn.
“What would you say, Marcus, if I revealed that I have concrete proof about the leak?” Cohen asked, his voice tense.
“That again? I thought we were already past this.” I said sarcastically, crossing my arms.
“Wouldn’t you be happy if that were the case?” he said, gritting his teeth. I could see a vein pulsing on his forehead.
“Anyways, what evidence do you have?” I asked, gesturing with an open hand, inviting him to show his cards.
At this point, it was clear what he wanted to use against me: Harley. This could backfire severely on him, and he should be aware of this. However, given how things have turned out with regards to him today, I might be overestimating his foresight.
“If your evidence involves Harley, I implore you to state so,” I added, trying to force his hand.
“Of course it does. I know she is the one that leaked that information,” he replied confidently.
“Oh, is that what you think?” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you trying to deny testimony from a reliable source? How naive,” Cohen stated, his voice full of derision.
“The thing is, there has been no testimony from her. She has not said anything, has she?” I pointed out, my tone calm but firm.
“No, not at the moment,” Cohen conceded, his frustration visible.
“I see. Well, she can probably do that if asked to in the next round. Anyway, is that all you wanted to say?” I asked.
I watched him grind his teeth, powerless to do anything about his current situation.
“That brings an end to the Presidents’ Question Round,” the announcer concluded as he returned to stage. “Right now, there will be a break, and we should all reconvene here before 12:30.”
With that said, the congregation began dispersing slowly. I took a deep breath, the tension easing slightly from my shoulders, before being approached by Hazel.
“You did good,” Hazel said.
“Yeah, but I hope that will be enough. What about Kusumoto?” I asked, glancing at her.
“See for yourself,” she replied, showing me her phone.
It was the school's forum, and I could see what the top post was. Kusumoto had been busy, as expected.
“She works quickly,” I said, returning the phone back to her.
“Yep,” Hazel replied with a nod.
I then looked over at where Cohen and his team were meant to be but noticed they were gone, as well as Harley. That was to be expected considering what was going on at the moment.
“Where is Sullivan?” I asked, scanning the area.
“He went for a break with some of his friends,” Hazel answered.
“I see. Want to accompany me to the cafe then?” I offered, noticing the brief hesitation before a smile formed across her face.
“Sure,” she said.