The student council office was draped in an uneasy silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of water dripping from a soaked towel. Asashina carefully dabbed the towel against Nagumo's bruised forehead, her movements tender and deliberate. Each time the towel lost its coolness, she quietly retreated to soak it in the basin again, only to return with the same rhythm, almost mechanical in its repetition. Nagumo, the student council vice president, sat motionless, forcing his body to remain rigid as he swallowed the pain throbbing in his neck. His hands twitched, fighting the urge to massage the bruises that now marked his skin.
Horikita Manabu, seated across the room, worked on his paperwork with a relentless focus. His eyes, sharp and cold like a blade, never once glanced at his wounded subordinate. To the council president, Nagumo's pain was irrelevant, his discomfort an expected consequence of his actions. Tachibana had taken a personal day—perhaps a retreat after having witnessed her fellow kouhai subjected to a brutal reckoning. Her absence, though not explained, felt like an acknowledgment of her inability to bear the weight of the discipline she had witnessed today.
Suddenly, the door to the student council office burst open with a force that shattered the quiet. The sound reverberated through the room like a crack of thunder. Nagumo, startled, flinched slightly, but quickly masked it with a hardened expression. Both Manabu and Asashina's eyes darted toward the two figures who stepped into the room: Nakata Aiyuki and Horikita Suzune. Their entrance, charged with an unspoken energy, was impossible to ignore. The towel on Nagumo's forehead, now forgotten, soaked his lap as it slid off. But he didn't seem to notice. His focus, instead, was locked on the figures standing before him.
"Miyabi, what the fuck happened to you?" Nakata's voice was sharp, breaking the tension with a piercing bluntness.
"What's it look like?" Nagumo spat, his words laced with attitude and simmering frustration.
Nakata leaned against the door frame, his posture relaxed yet exuding confidence. "I don't know, seems to me you got bent over and raped on your first day in high school, man." His casual delivery of the insult hit the room with weight, eliciting a soft sigh from Horikita, standing just behind him.
Horikita Suzune's eyes drifted across the room, taking in the sight with a muted indifference. Her mind was elsewhere—still replaying the scene in the car, where Nakata had rested his head on her lap. The warmth of that moment, though fleeting, lingered. But now, her attention shifted to her brother, seated behind his desk. Their eyes met, both pairs reflecting the same fierce, unyielding gaze they'd inherited from their father. Yet, where Manabu's eyes held the weight of experience and control, Suzune's burned with youthful determination. A brief, silent nod passed between them, filled with mutual respect and acknowledgment of the time spent apart. In that nod, they exchanged more than words—a silent embrace, a greeting, and a testament to the growth they both carried with them.
"Shut the fuck up..." Nagumo muttered, his voice weak, stripped of the bravado that usually carried him.
Asashina, who had been quietly nursing Nagumo, turned her attention to Suzune with a warm smile. "Aren't you Horikita-senpai's sister?" she asked, her tone light but curious.
Horikita felt a twinge of awkwardness at being defined by her brother's reputation, rather than her own abilities. Still, she didn't let it bother her. Instead, it fueled her appreciation for her brother's standing. She was learning that, like it or not, she was a subject of conversation long before she'd stepped into this school.
"Yes, my name is Horikita Suzune. Nice to meet you," she replied, her posture straight and confident, her voice calm yet commanding.
"Nice to meet you!" Asashina beamed, her cheerful energy clashing with the somber atmosphere. "I'm Asashina Nazuna, your cute little senpai from today onwards!" she teased, earning a polite nod from Horikita, who wasn't well-versed in this kind of lighthearted banter.
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Classroom of the elite | The path that leads to nothingness - OC
FanfictionAfter suffering a defeat in the past that led to his freedom, Ayanakouji has grown into an emotional, but colder than ever person. His personality is almost inexplicable, to us readers, to those around him, and to himself as well. Meanwhile, anothe...
