Chapter 20

Chapter 20: I’ll Be Your Master

Whenever Fujiwara Yuki wore that smile, someone was bound to suffer.  

In Yuki’s dictionary, there was no such thing as “impossible”—only insufficient incentives on the bargaining table.  

To influence someone, you first had to draw them close enough.  

Only through subtle conditioning or earth-shattering events could you even begin to talk about change.  

That was why forming the Light Music Club and raising affection levels was non-negotiable.  

Amami Saori suddenly wrapped her arms around Sakuya’s, snapping her out of her thoughts.  

Gently patting Sakuya’s shoulder like a young mother soothing a hurt child, Saori whispered. 

“It’s okay, Sakuya. Even if Fujiwara and Ayase don’t join, we can find others. Amamiya Kiyoya from our class is amazing at piano—I’ll ask her to join!”  

“It’s fine. Thank you, Saori.” Sakuya nodded absently.  

Contrary to her words, getting Yuki and Ayase Aoi on board was mandatory—both for her own goals and the story’s progression.  

She wouldn’t give up.  

As Sakuya watched Yuki’s smug grin and Ayase Aoi’s pensive silence, her resolve hardened.  

First, I need to talk to Yuki alone.  

If necessary, she’d resort to special measures—as long as it achieved her ends.  

……  

This secluded corner of the campus was wedged between two parallel buildings—about three meters wide, shaded, and hidden. A few stray weeds sprouted from cracks in the weathered concrete.  

It was also where Sakuya had witnessed Yuki discard those gifts.  

To the left stood the vending machine, its shelves packed with snacks beneath a “Diligence” sign. To the right stretched the soccer field, its low-cut grass a vibrant green.  

The distant murmur of students blended into white noise, lending the scene an almost dreamlike quality.  

The wall behind her was cold. Sakuya leaned against the whitewashed concrete, her spotless sailor uniform no doubt gathering chalky dust.  

Old schools have their charm, but the upkeep…  

Not that she cared. She was waiting for Yuki.  

Compared to past routes, Yuki’s personality hadn’t shifted drastically.  

But key differences stood out, she no longer wanted to start the Light Music Club, and her sadistic streak was showing earlier than expected.  

A lengthening shadow blotted out the scant light. Sakuya looked up to find the girl standing between light and shade, haloed like some beatified saint.  

“So,” Yuki’s voice was melodious yet icy, “you sent the others away just to talk to me? We’re not exactly close.”  

Sakuya straightened. “It’s about the Light Music Club. I want to discuss it with you.”  

Yuki scoffed, closing the distance between them step by deliberate step.  

“Why would I ever join? What’s in it for me?”  

The click of her heels echoed unnervingly in the narrow space, each tap making Sakuya’s ears twitch.  

“That’s why I’m here to negotiate.”  

“Oh? Negotiate?” Yuki’s eyebrows arched, her golden eyes glinting with sudden interest.  

She stopped just shy of Sakuya, studying her with unnerving focus.  

“And what could you possibly offer?”  

“Honestly, I don’t get your obsession with dragging me into this. Wait—”  

Without letting Sakuya speak, Yuki barreled on, her tone dripping with derision.  

“Ah~ I see. You’re no different from those gift-givers. You’re just using the club as an excuse to latch onto Aoi’s yakuza connections and my family’s political influence.”  

“No, that’s not—”  

“Your father, Shimizu Seiya…” Yuki tapped her cheek mockingly. “A small-time businessman who got lucky. And now you think you can wade into election season’s shark tank? They’ll tear you to shreds.”  

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper.  

“Listen well, little girl. Mediocrity is a blessing.”  

Sakuya instinctively retreated until her back hit the wall.  

Trapped.  

Yuki loomed over her, her beautiful face inches away. Her gaze was a blade, sharp enough to flay skin.  

Even her scent—delicate lilies—felt like a weapon, suffocating in its proximity.  

Too close. Too oppressive.  

Like a lamb cornered by a wolf.  

Dark basements. Cold handcuffs. Choking collars. Pain amplified by a fragile body. Endless torment.  

The memories alone sent shivers down Sakuya’s spine.  

That familiar sense of helplessness surged—but this time, there was no system-provided cigarette to dull the fear.  

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself.  

Her eyes darted to the wilted weeds at their feet as she forced out her next words.  

“I’m not after connections. I just want to form a club with everyone. If you join… I’ll tell you a secret. Something vital to you.”  

Yuki’s fingers gripped Sakuya’s chin, tilting it up with bruising force. Tears pricked Sakuya’s eyes as a whimper escaped her pale lips.  

“And why would I believe you?” Yuki sneered. “You overestimate yourself, Shimizu.”  

Sakuya stared into those golden eyes—swirling, treacherous quicksand. She was sinking.  

“Using Saori as bait was cute.” Yuki’s grip tightened. “But she’s not as simple as you think. You’ll see—she won’t join either.”  

An event affecting Saori?  

But that shouldn’t happen until after the kendo tournament—  

“Saori, she—”  

Her voice cracked. Sakuya fell silent.  

Yuki watched her panic with amusement before suddenly releasing her.  

Then, as if flipping a switch, she smiled sweetly.  

“Luckily for you, I’m feeling generous.”  

Her next words were syrup-smooth.  

“How about this? I’ll be your master for a week… and then I’ll join your club.”  

A pause.  

“Of course, only if Saori joins too~”