The next day, Masachika, Alisa, and Ayano were driven to the Suou residence in one of the Suou family’s cars after school.
“Hey, Ayano?” Masachika’s voice came from the back seat.
“Yes?” answered Ayano from the front passenger seat.
“A long time ago, you asked me why I had decided to run with Alya. You remember that?”
“…Yes.”
“Did you tell my grandfather what we talked about?”
“…Yes, I did.”
“All right, good.”
Although he could sense Ayano staring at him curiously through the rearview mirror, Masachika remained focused on reviewing his strategy. Not long after that, they arrived at the Suou residence, stepped out of the car, and were immediately greeted by Natsu, who escorted them to the study where Masachika and Alisa came face-to-face with Gensei once again.
“I apologize for—”
Gensei raised a hand to silence Masachika.
“No need for pleasantries. State your purpose,” he demanded with a piercing gaze. Masachika drew in a slow breath and approached Gensei’s desk, dropping all formality as he faced his grandfather as his true self.
“I have come to retract what I said and apologize.”
“Retract what you said?”
Looking firmly into Gensei’s slightly bewildered eyes, Masachika declared:
“A while back, when Ayano asked me why I didn’t run with Yuki, I told her that Yuki and the Suou family had nothing to do with my decision.”
After saying everything in a single breath, he met Gensei’s eyes to find them unchanged, suggesting that Ayano really had already passed along this information.
“But that was a lie. Half the reason why I decided to run with someone else was so Yuki couldn’t become the student council president.”
That was something Masachika had asked himself many times since deciding to run with Alisa. Why her? More importantly, why hadn’t he run again with Yuki in high school? Was it the guilt from defeating the other candidates and winning in middle school? Partly. But that guilt was miniscule compared to how bad he felt for burdening Yuki with the weight of the Suou family’s expectations.
And yet, he had stubbornly refused to help her, much less run with her this election cycle. But after almost endlessly questioning himself, the answer he arrived at was disarmingly simple.
“I didn’t want her to get elected.”
That was the deepest driving force that even Masachika himself had failed to recognize.
“Because I knew that if she became the student council president, she’d naturally join the First Light Committee and go on to live out her life as a proper member of the Suou family.”
He didn’t want that future to become a reality. At the very least, he didn’t want to be the one to give her that final push. He couldn’t bring himself to return to the Suou family, yet he couldn’t stand by and watch his sister sacrifice herself for the family name, either, and thus chose neither as he simply observed.
His cooperation in Yuki’s middle school campaign had temporarily soothed his guilt toward her, and his refusal to help in high school had freed him from the burden of sealing her fate. Instead, all he did was simply observe like a selfish coward.
“I didn’t want to see her trapped in this house and lose her freedom, and I felt like I would much rather see a future where Alya—Alisa Kujou’s dream came true. That’s why I decided to run with her.”
“…”
After Gensei studied his grandson’s raw moment of vulnerably, he silently directed that same unreadable gaze toward Alisa.
“Was the future that girl painted for you truly so captivating that it moved your heart? You, but a shell of your former self?” he responded gruffly. Then he honed in on Alisa.
“Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou, was it? Why do you wish to become the student council president?”
Alisa stepped forward to stand beside Masachika and, with quiet boldness and a touch of embellishment, repeated the very words she had once told him.
“Because I want to. I want to be the president, so that is what I am going to do. If there is a higher mountain to climb, I am going to climb it, because that is how I live my life.”
She admitted without a trace of guilt or hesitation that she wanted to become president purely for her own sake.
“I want to go as high as I can, and I will keep moving forward with unwavering determination to become the version of myself that I truly aspire to be. Therefore, I am going to become president of the student council and stay true to that path.”
Alisa already knew that aiming for the top wasn’t everything—that countless paths existed in life, none inherently right or wrong. After all, the boy standing next to her had taught her that. Yet even then—even with that knowledge, she still chose to aim for the top. She couldn’t help herself. This was simply who Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou was at her core.
Witnessing her declare this so plainly and with such conviction, Masachika glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled. He nearly squinted before her radiance, but there was no self-deprecation in his expression—only admiration.
“Anyway, as you can see, this is who Alya is. After seeing how radiant she was, I just had to witness her dream come true by her side.”
His expression grew serious as he continued.
“I want to help her dream come true, and at the same time, I want Yuki to be free. I don’t want to see her future robbed from her by making her become a diplomat and take over for the Suou family. I want to give her the possibility to become anything she wants; and I am doing this for her but, more importantly, for myself. I want to steal the position right out of her hands and become your successor to regain the pride I once had.”
Even though he spoke with firm resolve, his grandfather’s eyes remained cold and unmoved.
“And? You want me to ease the one condition I gave you? That you should be allowed to return to the Suou family even as the vice president of the student council?”
Gensei was essentially saying, “Did you really think that would work?” Yet Masachika shook his head with unwavering conviction.
“No, I’m not here to negotiate about that. I told you already. I’m here to retract what I said and apologize.”
And then, he delivered a declaration of war disguised as an apology:
“I promised you that I would never call myself Yuki’s brother again, so I would like to take this moment to apologize because I am going to break that promise.”
Gensei’s brow twitched, and a crease began forming between his eyes as Masachika bowed. Then, while lifting his eyes to meet his grandfather’s unmistakably more menacing glare head-on, Masachika declared:
“During the second semester’s closing ceremony, I plan on publicly announcing to the entire student body that I am Yuki’s biological brother. I also plan on announcing that I intend to rob her of her position of the Suou family successor as well.”
The air surrounding Gensei grew increasingly more volatile. Piercing Masachika with his glare, he asked in a low, barely contained voice, like a volcano moments from eruption:
“Do you honestly believe I would allow you announce our family matters to the world in such a manner?”
Yet even under that fierce, suffocating gaze—so intense it triggered a primal response to danger—Masachika remained unshaken.
“I am not seeking your permission. I don’t care how Yuki feels about it, either. I am going to become the successor and do anything I can to do so, whether you and Yuki like it or not. I am going to prove to the students of Seirei Academy and the members of the First Light Committee that I deserve to be the successor, and I am going to create a situation where you will have no choice but to accept me back into the family.”
It was a brazen and arrogant declaration of his resolve. Gensei narrowed his gaze ever so slightly…then lowered his head and shut his eyes. After a long pause, he exhaled slowly, the oppressive weight of his presence melting away.
He thereupon directed his gaze to Alisa, his tone stripped of its venom, and asked in a voice that carried an almost tender quality:
“Ms. Kujou, I appreciate you coming all this way to speak with me, but do you think you could give us a moment to talk alone?”
“Oh, uh…”
Following Gensei’s unexpected courtesy and request, Alisa threw a bewildered glance at Masachika, but he simply nodded back despite his own confusion.
“It’s okay.”
“Yes… Of course.”
But just as Alisa bowed to Gensei and turned on her heel, Gensei suddenly called out to her as if something had just come to mind.
“Oh, right. One last thing, Ms. Kujou,” Gensei muttered, prompting Alisa to turn back around.
“…! Yes?”
“May I ask your mother’s name?”
“Huh? …Akemi. ‘Ake’ is written with the character for dawn and ‘mi’ is written with the character for ocean.”
“…All right.”
She tilted her head in bewilderment at the abrupt question.
“Do you…know my mother?”
“…In a way. It’s no big deal. I apologize for stopping you.”
“No, it’s not a problem.”
Perhaps sensing from Gensei’s demeanor that he had no intention of responding, Alisa bowed once more at the door before exiting the office, leaving only the grandfather and his grandson inside.
Silence stretched between them for a few moments until…
“So is that girl the reason you changed?” Gensei asked.
Masachika thought for a moment while feeling puzzled, unable to quite grasp the man’s intent.
“She’s probably the biggest reason…but not the only one. I think I was able to change because of all the people that I met after leaving this house,” he replied carefully.