ASSASSINATION

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The end of the year was near, the guidance counselor office never emptied

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The end of the year was near, the guidance counselor office never emptied.


Mitsukuni gave his survey a once over. He held a pen and gently tapped the edge of his desk with it at a rhythmical pace. The survey was mandatory, and while it wouldn't decide their future career path, it remained the first stone to the edifice.


Mitsukuni already filled the paper out last week, but he couldn't help the second thoughts from coming as his turn approached. Having succeeded once didn't mean he would succeed twice. Being the family head of a grand Martial Art family didn't dictate that he would remain in this field now.


Ren gave his survey a sidelong glance as he walked behind the strawberry blond teen. He gave a low hum to signal his presence and casually leaned over the shorter's shoulder to have a better look.


"Troubled over your survey, Kannazuki?" he rhetorically asked as his eyes skimmed the blond's sheet.


"Mmm," Mitsukuni agreed with pursed lips. "I'm a bit stressed," he admitted with a wry laugh as he brought Reiko closer, his nose gently nuzzled her head. His honey-brown eyes flicked to look at Ren, and he raised a curious eyebrow. "How did it go, Ren-chan?"


The Student Council Secretary gave him an amiable smile at the inquiry. He casually pushed his hair back, leaving his fingers to comb through his black locks as he hummed. "It was alright," he shrugged. "I told them I'd take up the family business, and they told me to keep up the good work in high school," he carelessly explained.


"Ah, yeah, Ren-chan's family is in the entertainment industry," Mitsukuni recalled as he tilted his head to look at Ren's face.


Sakakibara nodded. "Yep," he beamed. His eyes fell over Mitsukuni's survey once again, and he raised a contemplative eyebrow. "You don't plan on inheriting your family's?" he rhetorically asked as he noticed it wasn't written on the survey.


There was a loud sigh on Mitsukuni's side before he slumped over his desk. "I don't wanna," he admitted in a drawl as he drew circles with his finger on his desk.


The mere thoughts of taking up his father's trading company irked him. He wasn't against receiving his grandfather's dojo, but to trade stocks... He wasn't a foreigner to the stock market's ways, but it didn't mean that he liked it.


Sure, from time to time, it could be interesting.


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