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  —

  The wind blew against my face as I kept a steady pace, the rhythmic thud of my feet on the sidewalk reverberating in the early morning silence. Sweat trickled down my face and body, a testament to my resolve and dedication to my jogging routine. It had been seven minutes since I began, and I could feel a heat in my legs, indicating the need for a break shortly.

  After a few more minutes of pushing through the exhaustion, I arrived at my intended destination: an outdoor vending machine next to a small seat. The area was quiet, with only the distant twerping of the birds breaking the serenity. I approached the vending machine and examined its contents, my gaze falling on an energy drink. I took out my phone and positioned it over the scanner to pay. The drink fell into the dispenser, and I grabbed it, taking a big gulp to revive my parched throat. I took a seat on the bench, letting the cool breeze wash over me.

  “Hello,” a voice called out, breaking the silence. I looked up to see my expected guest approaching, clad in a tracksuit.

  “Hello, so you came?” I said, a smile spreading across my lips.

  “Why wouldn't I? This is our first official meeting, after all,” he replied with a grin.

  “Ah, it is. Then I feel I should introduce myself properly,” I said, standing up and extending a hand. “You can call me Tomiko; I am the elected leader of Class 2.”

  “Marcus Luna, chosen Class 1 representative for the position of Student Council President,” he stated, shaking my hand firmly before returning his hands to his pockets. “I know you didn't just call me over for that, so what is it?”

  “Oh, why would you think I had other intentions here?” I asked, feigning innocence.

  He smirked, a knowing look in his eyes. “So you're saying the only reason you called me out here is to introduce ourselves?”

  “Exactly, nothing more,” I said, maintaining my friendly demeanour.

  “I see,” he replied, turning around as if to leave.

  “Are we enemies?” I called out, prompting him to stop in mid-step. He remained still for a moment before slowly turning back to face me.

  “Considering that we are competing against each other in this election, I would say that you are,” he said calmly.

  “Ah, then let me rephrase. Are we enemies or competitors?” I inquired, observing his reaction intently.

  His brows lifted slightly, and a smirk tugged at the edges of his mouth as he began to stride back towards me. “You are good,” he said, clearly impressed.

  “I will take that compliment with high regard,” I replied, my smile widening.

  “What about you and Hazel?” I asked, resting back against the bench.

  “Why do you want to know about that?” He asked, his posture shifting as he leaned against the vending machine, arms crossed defensively.

  “Let’s just say this is me being curious,” I added, hoping to seem casual.

  “Well, curiosity isn’t always a good thing, so I won’t answer. Rather, I’ll leave you to form your own opinion in that regard.” His response was stern, but not unkind.

  “How cruel,” I muttered, attempting to guilt-bait him, but his expression stayed firm, unyielding to my mediocre tricks.

  “So what is your opinion?” he countered, his eyes bright with eagerness.

  “Are you interested in what I think about the two of you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Why not? Maybe that can give me some new insight,” he added with a hint of a smile.

  I laughed quietly, resting my right hand on my chin in a mock gesture of deep thought. “Let's see then.” I paused for effect, watching his curiosity grow. “An unsaturated mixture of ethanol and water.”

  His eyes widened with intrigue, but I stopped there, savouring the moment.

  “Oh, so that’s all you’re giving me?” He spoke with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

  “Of course it is,” I replied, smirking.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  He laughed in response. “Alright then, I have a better understanding. But one more question.”

  “Go on,” I replied, intrigued.

  “Who is the water?” he asked.

  “I’ll leave you to form your own opinion on that,” I replied with a sly grin.

  “Using my own words against me, that’s nice,” he said, shaking his head in amusement.

  “Thank you,” I replied, bending slightly in faux gratitude.

  My gaze then shifted along the path before returning to him. “Given that you wore the tracksuit like I asked, how about you jog with me for a short while?”

  “Alright then, I already did some stretching on the way here,” he remarked, straightening up and fixing his posture.

  I started jogging down the path, and he instantly matched my speed, remaining by my side. The rhythmic beating of our feet on the pavement generated a constant beat as we moved in sync. We continued like this for some time, not really saying anything, just enjoying the shared activity and the crisp morning air.

  After a while, I decided to address the next matter. “I want this election to be as fair as possible,” I said, glancing sideways at him.

  “Same here,” he responded, and I could sense his sincerity.

  “You don't have to worry about Sullivan. I specifically instructed him not to try anything to self-sabotage,” I assured him.

  “Thanks for that,” he said, though a trace of doubt lingered in his eyes. “I know that we both want things to play out fairly, but with the way the school designed this election, I doubt that is the case. I’m sure you are aware of this as well?”

  “Of course. The fact that the rules require members of other classes to be a part of your team clearly promotes sabotage,” I added, nodding in accord.

  This school was built on the idea that competition leads to improvement in most circumstances. The school could have simply designed it so that all of the election candidates were from the same class, but the decision to mix it up posed an extra challenge. It also simulated the real world, where being surrounded by people similar to you is mostly a pipe dream. In the real world, we meet different droves of people, and the ability to manage them all despite these differences is being tested here.

  I slowed down my pace and headed to a bench to catch my breath. Marcus did the same, breathing heavily but steadily. After a few seconds, I continued our conversation.

  “Come to think of it, I heard Ryo approached you?” I asked, observing his expression intently.

  “Yes, he did,” Marcus confirmed, his tone level.

  “And you saw right through his lies. Just to make it clear, I never gave him the order to do that,” I stated, attempting to clarify my position.

  “I know, the orders came from Class 3 after all,” he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  “What?” I exclaimed, my eyes widening in shock. My teeth clenched against each other as I assimilated this information. I had always imagined how Ryo operated on his own whims, but to find out he was actually working for Class 3 was intolerable.

  “I can see that you were not aware of this,” Marcus replied, jolting me out of my thoughts.

  “No, I…” I tried to explain, but he quickly interrupted.

  “It is not a concrete conclusion, but from what I have gathered, it seems to be pointed that way,” he clarified.

  “I see,” I replied, my thoughts racing with the ramifications.

  “What are you going to do about it?” He asked, his tone probing but calm.

  

  “I will handle it personally. It is a class matter after all,” I replied firmly.

  “Alright then,” he said, leaning back and resting his hands on the back of the bench, allowing his chest to protrude slightly. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of his relaxed confidence.

  “What do you plan on doing with Cohen?” I asked, shifting the conversation to another pressing matter.

  “Him? That is not something I can answer at the moment. What about your countermeasures against him?” he asked in return.

  I laughed, finding the question almost hilarious. “I am sorry for coming off as rude there, but the truth is, I don't consider that boy a threat at all,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Why?” he asked, genuinely curious.

  “He is stupid, plain and simple. An individual who thinks with his fists because he lacks the brains to do so,” I said bluntly.

  “Coming off a bit harsh, aren't we?” He responded with a laugh.

  “Harsh? Not at all. These are just facts that I can say to his face. Right now, he is making some pretty bold moves, but I'll tell you that it will amount to nothing,” I remarked, feeling a little heated. To cool down, I reached for the can of energy drink I had strapped to my fanny pack earlier and took a long sip.

  I looked over to Marcus and extended the can to him. “Want some?” I offered.

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Is there something really in there?” he asked sceptically.

  I shook the can so that he could hear the leftover liquid sloshing within. He reached out and grabbed the can from me. “Thanks,” he said before taking a gulp.

  “You can finish it. I’m good,” I replied, and he nodded gratefully. “Marcus, let me make it clear. I don't give a damn what Cohen does during this election. My only hope is that both of us can play fair,” I said sincerely, watching his reaction.

  He paused drinking and looked at me thoughtfully. “I stand in the same court as you. I do have one question though: why would I trust that you won't betray me?” he asked.

  “Marcus, I am interested in you and your abilities. I wish to witness them firsthand, and the election can be used as a testing ground to evaluate our skills,” I added, meeting his eyes intently.

  “So you want a challenge?” he asked, a spark of interest in his eyes.

  “Yes, but that can come later. Like I said, let’s just think of this election as a friendly spar,” I said. He took a big gulp from the can and hurled it into the nearby garbage bin.

  “Alright then,” he said, standing up and offering his hand to me. “Tomiko, it seems we have ourselves a temporary truce for now.”

  “Yes, a truce,” I responded, taking his hand and shaking it firmly to confirm our agreement.

  “Great. I have spent quite a while here now, and I’ve got to leave,” he said, turning around to leave. “My guess is our actual next meeting will be on election day.”

  “Correct,” I said, watching him disappear down the path. As I dropped back onto the bench, I let out a deep sigh.

  “Marcus Luna. Truly magnificent. I wish to know more about you; a lot more,” I added, a smile spreading across my face as I stared up at the sky.

  “This school is gearing up for some amusing events,” I murmured, feeling a mix of anticipation and excitement for the challenges ahead.