Niji City High is no simple school. At its core sits a student council with more sway than most clubs and bosses in town. Their meetings decide where funds go, which events run, and who makes the school proud. Yet beneath the polished surface, bitter rivalries and secrets wriggle through the halls. Was it ever really peaceful here?
Our protagonist, Yuuma Shinjo, is vice president. No one studies the faces in the meeting room like him. He’s in it to protect his younger sibling, Miku, a shy first year targeted by bullies from rival clubs. If you had someone to protect, how far would you go in this world?
President Ayane Sagawa is calm, never raises her voice, and almost never lets slip what she’s thinking. Aya has power on paper, but lately, things aren’t steady. Clubs push back, and votes don’t hold up like they should. Voices (especially large clubs like the Baseball Squad) are growing too bold.
Yuuma plans day and night. He’s failed once before; Miku ended up with broken glasses and a sprained wrist. Yuuma brings a legal pad and a junky flip phone to every council session, jotting gossip, noting glances. Friends call him overcautious. But Yuuma has a trick: he collects promises. If you cross him, others remember. That’s both his strength and curse.
Ayane gathers allies too—her best friend Sora Harada, outspoken head of discipline, and Nonoka Fujisawa, treasurer and rumored chess ace. The three form a triangle of trust bundled in secrecy. Still, gaps appear. At last week’s vote, even Sora doubted. “This isn’t what we planned for, Aya. The Tennis Club should never outweigh everyone… aren’t we supposed to keep it fair?” Do you think trust can ever stay pure after a big loss?
The inciting incident comes fast: the council safe is looted. All school event funds gone. Textbooks can’t be bought. Rival clubs—historically weak—suddenly sponsor wild events for free, laundering the chaos. Ayane pins the admin office; Sora says it’s those same clubs, trying to tank council pride. Yuuma keeps silent, eyes on a unique gold pen left at the scene.
Two weeks, daily hearings, rumors pile thick. Parents demand answers. Student news clubs chase made-up scandals. The following Monday, a fake newspaper appears, smearing Miku’s name—the same one Yuuma lives for. Does anger help, or cloud his sight? Yuuma almost quits. His mother rarely calls, but sends him texts—blunt, to the point: “Don’t let school fail you. Protect your own. Write it all down.” So, he does.
President Ayane calls an emergency council. Suspicion crams the rectangular table like ten extra bodies. Someone pits club against club, but nobody says it out loud. Sora splits her gaze, watching both Ayane and Yuuma. Nonoka barely speaks. There’s too much at stake—school ranking, university recommendation letters, and respect.
Investigating, Yuuma spot checks club rooms, lockers after hours, taps friends in IT for login records. Miku quietly hands him a stack of Pink Crescent sweet wrappers, samples left behind at the break-in. “These are from the theater department vending fundraiser… and the dates match. They plug a bate scent candle for fundraising last Wednesday—it sold out. That’s … odd, isn’t it?” Miku stammers. Yuuma grins, a rare smile. His sister agrees: something’s wrong.
Rival clubs push bribes, invite votes, buy the right people. Few resist, many join in. Sora gets slipped a note—tear blotched, twisting an alliance: “Side with us, you won’t regret it.” Sora looks at Yuuma across the empty gym, blackmail pulsing through her mind. “Yuu, did you ever side with people you can’t trust because it’s your best shot?” He sighs, doesn’t answer. How do you keep your heart right, head steady?
Soon Yuuma pulls out what looks like damning evidence. A club treasurer (Yuta from Tabletop Club) took out strange sums, rooting for a star spot in this new political mess. Council starts a hush-hush inquiry—a few sit in the old teacher lounge after hours. Nonoka compiles lists, Ayane questions suspects, Sora watches hands, you can never tell whose lie is smoothest. Everyone’s gaming odds. 
The battle escalates when Miku is cornered after drama club rehearsals. A message is carved into the backboard above her seat: “Sit quiet or more gets taken.” Miku calmly places her head down, shakes lightly but doesn’t cry. She brings the pen she found to Yuuma. Instantly, he realizes the school logo: it belonged last year to the council president… who is gone, now at college. A message, or just discarded trash?
Local police step in. School security sets up cameras, but students have tricks even pros can’t trace. Student chats discuss betrayal, double agents, honorable oaths, even betting. Each rumor now hurts; sponsors start to drop school clubs. Ayane proposes one day to close clubs—an unusual, bold act. “Sometimes silence solves more than shouting,” she admits quietly. Nonoka crunches the math; everyone listens.
Tensions snap, just before midterms. Tables at war; old council friends turn enemy overnight. A teacher stalks the corridor, catching stray half-truths. Yuuma leans in close to his rivals behind the gym after late study hours—asks one hard question: “What do you need to win that school money from us so badly?” Rival reels, hints at debts, family problems. Power’s more than pride. Does good reason justify damage?
Yuuma sees everything’s not as simple as black and white. He slips into old records—the deep council attic files after lights out, rain striking glass. Finds letters, promises, gentle bribes, all left behind. Ayane finds out Yuuma has a copy of last year’s ledger. Anger blinks in her eyes, the controlled mask shuddering. Yet, she says nothing for now.
The episode or arc builds out: studies falter, parent-teacher meetings spiral. Yuuma refrains from direct accusation, stacks proof instead for Ayane—if she can face failure, the whole council will too. Is fear stronger, or duty? They meet facing the dawn, city lights twinkling through the rooftop haze. “Tomorrow fixes nothing, Yuuma. Everyone you like is a suspect—including us.” Yuuma just nods. 
Near the end, with festival looming and the council on trial, Yuuma and Sora catch the culprit in the middle—hidden behind act and blame—a student council member exploiting club secrets for cash from outside tutors. The final evidence is a forged application slip with Nonoka’s official council stamp. Friends and traitors blend in this storm. Will the council break down to rebuild, or scatter in fear as graduation nears? Is it better to expose a friend or save the school’s trust, maybe at huge cost?
The last image: the council room, seats empty but for Yuuma and a sheet of cold, damning evidence in his fist. He debates calling Miku, then texts instead. Can trust be earned back after lies this large? Credits fade as phones everywhere ping with the start of round two. 
