Strategy Session
“—So yeah, that’s what went down. Tomoya, do you know Imagawa-senpai?”
I decided to tell my best friend, Shibata Tomoya, about the run-in I’d had with Imagawa-senpai.
“Oh, you mean Imagawa-senpai from third year? Of course I know him. Pretty infamous, right? Don’t tell me you didn’t?”
“Yeah, I never really paid attention to seniors.”
Back in my gloomy introvert days, all I ever cared about was keeping my head down and surviving the school day in peace. I barely knew anything about students outside my own class, let alone other grades.
“That guy’s basically famous for being hated. Bet he acted like royalty when he came at you, huh?”
“It was unreal. I remember thinking, ‘So people like this actually exist?’ I mean, I guess that confirms he is as disliked as he seems.”
I never expected to be called an “idiot” and a “filthy commoner” right off the bat, but judging from the way Tomoya spoke, it wasn’t just me—Imagawa-senpai apparently treated everyone like that.
“And don’t forget, his father’s the chairman of the Imagawa Group. Word is he’s got pull with the Prime Minister, a bunch of lawmakers, even the education board, the police, and university deans. The guy’s so well-connected that even our teachers and the principal are scared to say a word against him.”
“That explains a lot.”
“Plus, rumor has it he used to go to some elite private school during his first year.”
“Really? Then why transfer to a plain old public school like ours?”
“Supposedly, he got into some kind of scandal with a kid from an old noble family—maybe even royalty. The kind of status even money and power can’t touch. Long story short, he had to switch schools and ended up here, like he was fleeing the fallout.”
“Knowing him, I can totally believe it.”
Imagawa-senpai was every bit the scumbag I’d imagined—no, worse than I imagined.
“Still, telling you to stay away from Hasumi-san or your parents’ company might go under? That’s straight-up villain territory. You don’t even see manga villains going that hard anymore.”
“Right? It’s almost comical.”
(Even in the other world, Orphermaus, there weren’t villains this blatantly evil. It’s impressive in a twisted way—though obviously not in a good one.)
“So, what’s your plan?”
“Still figuring that out.”
“Makes sense. But really, is there anything a high schooler can actually do? Imagawa-senpai’s father is a corporate titan, practically battle-hardened, and he’s close pals with the sitting Prime Minister. I mean, sure, you’ve grown a lot since summer, Shuhei, but even so—this isn’t someone we can just go up against.”
“He’s the elite, huh.”
“Exactly. And not just your average elite—super-elite. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and man, that kid is living proof. Both father and son act like the world owes them, like rules don’t apply. It’s disgusting. Seriously, what a messed-up world.”
Something in what Tomoya said caught in my mind like a thorn.
“Hey, Tomoya… what did you mean by that just now?”
“Hm? Oh, I meant his father’s been nicknamed the ‘department store of scandals.’ A weekly mag exposed him for allegedly making shady donations to the Prime Minister and top officials in the ruling party. They say he’s about to be summoned for testimony in the Diet.”
“The Diet summons—that’s the one where you’re questioned under oath, right? No lying allowed?”
“Yeah, technically. Though, in practice, all they have to do is say stuff like ‘I don’t recall’ or ‘I can’t comment due to ongoing legal matters.’ Easiest gig in politics.”
“Didn’t realize you knew this stuff. You’ve been pretending to be an anime nerd this whole time, but turns out you’re a politics junkie?”
“Not even close. I just see it online a lot. Stuff like ‘I don’t recall’ gets memed to death, so it sticks.”
“Huh… still, a Diet summons, huh…”
“Would be hilarious if his father snapped and blurted out the truth on national TV. Not that there’s even a one-in-a-million chance of that happening.”
“Yeah… that’s just how it is.”
“Anyway. The third-years will be gone in six months. Might be better to keep your distance from Hasumi-san for now and just lay low.”
“Yeah. I’ll give it some thought.”
“Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
“No, seriously. You told me stuff I never would've known otherwise. Thanks, Tomoya. I owe you big time.”
That’s what I told Tomoya.
(A Diet summons, huh… That could be useful.)
By then, a certain plan had already begun to take root in my mind.