Cote: Elite in Action

Alliances in silence

Days passed quickly, and the class voting exam was drawing closer. The strategy was decided: we would save someone from expulsion using the 20 million points. Although there was still time, I knew that eventually, the day would come when everyone would have to face a reality they tried to avoid: letting someone go, even if it hurt. I hoped that, when the time came, they would be ready for it.

With the plan clear and nothing else to occupy myself with, I decided to take advantage of a weekend to meet someone who had somehow become very close lately. No, it wasn't Honami, as many might expect. It was Kikyou.

In recent days, Kikyou and I had developed a solid friendship, or at least that's what I believed. She had shared with me details of her turbulent past, revealing facets she didn't show to others. Her story surprised me, not so much because of what she had gone through, but because of the version of herself she wanted to become and how hard she worked to reach that goal. It was evident that she harbored a constant inner struggle to find her own worth.

For me, it was hard to understand her desire to be loved and admired, since I had grown up in an environment where attention simply flowed to me effortlessly. I didn't have that same longing, that need to be seen and recognized. But I understood that, for her, recognition wasn't a mere frivolity; it was a refuge from her own insecurities, an attempt to rebuild herself after tough times.

I suppose that all of that shapes who we are in our youth. Desires to belong, to be someone in the eyes of others. In the end, being young is exactly that: navigating between desires, insecurities, and an immaturity that pushes us to seek meaning in the gaze of others.

...

I finally arrived at our meeting place: a karaoke room. Not that Kikyou was passionate about singing; in fact, I don't think I've ever heard her sing a note. The reason was much more practical: the room was completely isolated and soundproof, preventing outside noise from distracting her. For Kikyou, that space was a refuge, a place where she could shut out everything. Although, paradoxically, she spent her time surrounded by people, deep down, she seemed to have a kind of aversion to constant company. Curious irony, isn't it?

Upon entering, Kikyou was already waiting for me, with her characteristic short hair framing a delicate face, though her expression was serious, or rather, completely expressionless.

"Hello, Kikyou."

"Hello, Kayden," she replied, with her usual emotionless tone.

"Did you need to talk about something?" I asked, curious. She was the one who had suggested we meet, and usually, that meant she had something important to tell me.

"Well, I wanted to talk," she said as she took a sip of her chocolate shake with whipped cream, her favorite... and mine too. I always found it interesting that someone with such a sharp character enjoyed something so sweet.

Shortly after, Kikyou began to talk. Well, more than talk, it was a series of complaints about the people she had to deal with in her daily life. This had become a kind of ritual between us. Every time we met, Kikyou vented her frustrations and thoughts with me, as if I were her personal psychologist. I didn't mind; in fact, listening to her allowed me to understand her better, discover new facets of her, and, in a way, strengthen our bond.

But not everything was about talking and venting. We had turned these meetings into a mix of activities: watching movies, going out to eat... Although, I must admit, my favorite moments were when she invited me to her room. There, in addition to listening to her, I had the pleasure of tasting her homemade food, which she prepared with surprising skill. It was curious to think that behind her cold appearance and calculating gaze, there was an incredible cook.