Chapter 13: The Shadow Broker's Debut
(Suzune POV)
The cafeteria was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop, or more accurately, you could have heard the sound of Arisu Sakayanagi's ego shattering into a million jagged little pieces.
I stared at Kiyotaka. The boy was actually... radiating. The "volcano ramen" had turned his face into a neon sign of distress, but that spoonful of vanilla ice cream? It had triggered a biological hard-reset. That tiny, relieved smile was the most terrifying thing I'd seen since Sunny first explained his "Toon Force" logic to me.
Masumi Kamuro, on the other hand, just looked like she'd stepped into a room where everyone was speaking a language she hadn't learned. She was blinking at Kiyotaka, then at us, with a face that clearly said: 'Why am I the only one who isn't vibrating with shock right now?' She didn't know. She didn't realize that making Ayanokōji smile was like convincing a brick wall to give you a hug. To her, it was just a guy enjoying dessert. To the rest of us? It was a glitch in the Matrix.
"Sunny," I said, my voice low and vibrating with a very specific kind of homicidal intent.
"Yes, Empress? Light of my life? Provider of the Mackerel?" Sunny chirped, still looking like he was ready to collect his Nobel Prize for "Advanced Psychological Torture via Dairy."
I didn't answer with words. I reached out, grabbed his ear, and twisted.
"OW! OW! ABORT! DISCONNECT! SUZU, MY EAR IS NOT A JOYSTICK!"
"You," I hissed, leaning in close while Arisu watched us with a look that was slowly morphing from 'Shocked' to 'Thoroughly Entertained.' "You caused this. You turned a public lunch into a chemical weapons test. You bet our dignity against a girl who is currently planning five different ways to ruin our lives, and you used a human being as a lab rat for your Scoville-scale experiments."
Masumi actually started smiling. She looked at Sunny's pained expression and nodded to herself, clearly feeling like the "Beer Wall" incident had finally been semi-avenged.
Arisu, meanwhile, had recovered. Her blush had faded, replaced by that sharp, predatory grin. She looked at her rumbled hair—the result of Sunny's "victory headpat"—and then at me. "I have to admit, Horikita-san... your 'Butler' is full of surprises. I suppose I should thank him for the entertainment, even if it comes at the cost of my hair's structural integrity."
Kiyotaka's face had already defaulted back to its standard "deadpan" mode, though he looked slightly more human than usual. He looked annoyed, actually. Like he was frustrated that his body had betrayed his training for a five-hundred-yen bowl of ice cream.
"Sorry, sorry! Suzu, let go!" Sunny wailed, though he wasn't actually trying to pull away. "I've made many mistakes in my life! I've put the milk in before the cereal! I've tried to cook bacon in a toaster! Why are you punishing me here, in front of the Princess and the Beer-Fortress?!"
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" I asked, giving his ear one last, sharp tug.
Sunny looked me dead in the eyes, his expression shifting for a split second to that chaotic, unfiltered honesty that makes him so dangerous. "I mean... I'd do it again."
I stared at him.
"I mean—NEVER! NEVER IN MY LIFETIME!" he shouted, correcting himself at light-speed.
I let out a long, weary sigh. I released his ear and checked the time. "Lunch is almost over. We're leaving. Now."
I didn't give Arisu or Masumi a second glance. I just turned on my heel and marched out, dragging Sunny by the back of his blazer while Kiyotaka followed behind like a confused duckling.
The afternoon classes were a blur of me trying to focus while Sunny spent the entire time drawing diagrams of "Headpat Efficiency" in the margins of his notebook. Every time I glanced at him, he'd wink.
Finally, the bell rang. Most students headed for the mall or the dorms, but Sunny and I had a date with destiny. Or rather, a date with a very overworked Student Council President who happened to share my DNA.
As we walked through the hallway toward the Student Council office, the tension started to coil in my stomach like a snake. This wasn't just a business meeting; it was a confrontation.
"Sunny," I said, stopping a few feet from the massive double doors. "Please. I am begging you. For the love of whatever gods you actually believe in... do not fuck up the office. Don't touch the statues. Don't comment on the wallpaper. And do NOT mention the 'Appendix C' file unless it is a tactical necessity."
Sunny waved a hand dismissively. "Suzu, Suzu, Suzu. You wound me. I'm a professional! I'm going to be as silent as a grave. A very witty, stylish grave."
"I hate you," I muttered.
"Love you too, Sugar Mommy," he grinned. "Now, are you ready? Are you ready to see your brother's 'Perfect' mask crack? Are you ready to destroy his mental health with the power of your newfound independence?"
I took a deep breath. I was nervous—intensely so. My brother had been the sun I orbited for my entire life. But Sunny had shoved me out of that orbit and told me to build my own galaxy. I felt a tiny, sharp spark of excitement. I wanted to see his face. I wanted to hear him try to lecture me and find that his words no longer had teeth.
I reached out to knock, but Sunny stepped in front of me, his hand hovering over the wood.
"Wait," he whispered. "Let the Empress do the honors. This is your house now, Suzu."
I nodded. I pushed past him and knocked on the door with a firm, rhythmic three-part strike. No hesitation.
The door was opened by Akane Tachibana. She looked up at us, her eyes instantly widening. She looked like she wanted to slam the door, or perhaps go hide under a desk. I didn't give her the chance.
"Tachibana-senpai," I said, my voice dripping with a casual, biting confidence I didn't know I possessed. "Is the President in? Or is he too busy practicing his 'brooding in the dark' look for the school yearbook?"
Akane's jaw dropped. "H-Horikita-san? You... you shouldn't speak like that!"
I walked past her without waiting for an invitation, Sunny following close behind with a smug "I-taught-her-that" expression.
My brother was sitting at his desk. He didn't look up immediately. He was writing something, his pen moving with mechanical precision. But then, he stopped. He didn't look serious. He looked... weary.
He set the pen down, reached for his glasses, and took them off. He leaned back, cleaned the lenses with a cloth, and—to my absolute shock—stuck a finger in his ear and gave it a little wiggle, as if he were trying to clear out a blockage.
"I'm sorry, Suzune," Manabu said, his voice as cold and level as always, though there was a strange, frantic edge to his eyes. "I don't think I heard you correctly. Could you say that again?"
The nervousness in my chest vanished, replaced by a surge of pure, unfiltered confidence. He was rattled. He was actually rattled.
"I said," I began, leaning against a nearby filing cabinet and crossing my arms, "are you busy? Or are you just sitting there hoping that if you stay still enough, the reality of your compromised security will simply go away? Honestly, Brother, for a 'Perfect' President, you seem remarkably slow on the uptake today. Maybe it's the stress of knowing your private poetry is currently floating around in three different encrypted saves."
Manabu's face didn't change, but his knuckles went white as he gripped the edge of his desk.
On the side, I saw Akane and Sunny move toward each other. They started whispering in low tones, a conversation so quiet that no one else in the room could hear it. I caught fragments: "Did he see the poem?" and "Aqua says hello." Akane looked like she was vibrating between embarrassment and a weird kind of curiosity.
The other Student Council members in the room were a mix of reactions. Some were ignoring us, buried in their work. One girl was openly recording the conversation on her phone, likely planning to post it to the school forum as "The Fall of the House of Horikita."
"Suzune," Manabu said, his voice tight. "You have changed. And not in a way that I find particularly productive. I assume this... shift... is due to the influence of the person currently 'corrupting' my secretary in the corner."
He looked at Sunny. If looks could kill, Sunny would have been reduced to a pile of silver ash on the carpet. Manabu looked like he was holding himself back from leaping over the desk and engaging in some very un-Presidential physical education.
Akane noticed. She quickly hurried to Manabu's side, leaning down to whisper something in his ear. Whatever she said worked—it was like watching a pressure valve being released. Manabu's shoulders dropped. He let out a long breath and looked... defeated? No, not defeated. Just resigned to his fate.
"Ahem," Akane said, stepping back with a bright red face. "President, we should focus on the business at hand. Horikita-san is here for a reason."
Manabu nodded slowly. He ignored Sunny entirely, focusing his gaze solely on me. "Fine. Why are you here today, Suzune? I assume you didn't come here just to practice your 'trash talk,' as the students call it."
I felt a thrill of victory. I was a "Sugar Mommy" now—or at least, I had the points to act like one.
"I'm here to make a transaction," I said, pulling out my student ID. "I currently have 3.2 million points from... let's call it 'consultation fees' with the E-sports club. After some initial spending, I'm sitting on a comfortable 2.6 million."
I looked at Sunny. He gave me a sharp nod.
"I had originally planned to buy access to the CCTV cameras for Class D," I continued. "But Sunny reminded me that thinking small is for losers. Why settle for my own class when I can own the entire grade?"
Manabu's eyebrow shot up. "You want to buy the feeds for the first-year classrooms?"
"All four of them," I said firmly. "I want the 'Buy' package. Full ownership rights. No one besides the school administration and myself will have access to the data. Not even the Student Council."
I saw Manabu's hand twitch. He wanted to praise me. I could see it in the way his eyes softened for a fraction of a second. He was impressed. His little sister was playing the long game.
"That's not all," I added, leaning in. "I also want to purchase a permanent disablement of the location tracking for two specific students: myself and Sunny. If the school wants to know where we are, they can come find us in person."
"And finally," I said, "I want two personal burner point-cards—blank, untraceable—and one fully encrypted, private chatting account with an offshore server. If I'm going to play the 'Dark Lord from the Shadows,' as Sunny puts it, I might as well have the proper communication tools."
Behind me, I heard Sunny and Akane giggling. They were clearly sharing some joke at my brother's expense. Manabu's face went from impressed back to 'I-want-to-scream' in record time.
He closed his eyes and began doing mental math. The room was silent for a full minute.
"Buying full ownership of four classroom CCTV systems... disabling two GPS trackers... two burner cards... one encrypted server account," Manabu muttered. "The total, including the administrative 'privacy' surcharges... would be approximately 2,300,200 points. More or less."
"Do it," I said, sliding my card across the desk.
Manabu looked at the card, then at me. "Tachibana. Prepare the contract. We'll need a special administrative override for the GPS tracking. Contact the faculty board for the encrypted server permission."
Akane was already moving. For all her nervousness around Sunny, she was a professional. She fired up a terminal, her fingers flying across the keys. It only took about sixty seconds for the printer in the corner to whir to life.
She handed the document to Manabu. He read it over once, his eyes scanning the fine print, before handing it to me.
"Sign here, here, and here," he said, his voice flat. "Once the transfer is complete, the encryption keys will be sent to your student ID. Be warned, Suzune... owning this much information comes with a price. If you misuse these feeds, the school will not be lenient."
"I'm not worried," I said, signing the contract with a flourish. "I have a very good 'consultant' to help me navigate the ethics."
I handed the pen back to him. Our fingers brushed for a second, and for the first time in years, he didn't pull away immediately. He looked at me—truly looked at me—and I saw a flicker of something that looked like... respect.
"You've become formidable, Suzune," he whispered.
"I'm just getting started, Brother," I replied.
In that moment, the heavy double doors of the office swung open with a bang.
A boy with golden-blond hair and a smile that looked like it had been carved out of a snake's heart walked in. He was wearing his uniform with a casual arrogance that set my teeth on edge.
Miyabi Nagumo. The Vice President.
He didn't look at me. He didn't look at Akane. His eyes went straight to Manabu, and then, with a slow, curious tilt of his head, they landed on Sunny.
"Well, well," Nagumo purred, his voice smooth and dangerous. "I heard there was a party in here. I didn't realize the President was hosting a family reunion. And who is this silver-haired 'ghost' I've been hearing so much about?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
Sunny didn't flinch. He just adjusted his (now broken) propeller hat and gave Nagumo a lazy, two-finger wave.
"Yo, Vice Prez," Sunny grinned. "You're late. We already finished the tea and the secrets. But don't worry... I saved you a cracker."
Nagumo's smile didn't reach his eyes.
The war had officially arrived.