The hallway was already filling with students. The morning rush was in full swing.
I merged into the crowd, keeping my head down, playing the part of the background extra.
"Did you hear?"
The whisper drifted from a group of second-years walking ahead of me.
"The Student Body Election is coming up."
I slowed my pace slightly.
"Yeah," another voice replied. "It's going to be a bloodbath this year. I heard the Third Prince, Aurelius, is running."
"The illegitimate one?" The first student scoffed. "He has guts, I'll give him that. But he's going up against Arey."
"Prince Arey is a monster," the second student agreed, sounding awed. "He's a third-year, and he's held the seat since he was a freshman. A true heir versus a… well, you know."
"An illegitimate son can't win against the Second Prince. It's just not how the world works."
I walked past them, my expression unchanging.
So, the Election Arc has arrived.
I muttered under my breath, "Boring politics, backstabbing, and a tournament arc disguised as democracy. Just what I needed."
In the novel, this was a major turning point. Arey, the Second Prince, was a classic antagonist—arrogant, powerful, and deeply insecure about his younger, more talented half-brother. The election wasn't just about student council; it was a proxy war for the throne.
And I, Rias von Leonhart, wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.
I reached my classroom and walked in.
The room was buzzing. Everyone was talking about the election.
I navigated to my seat in the back row—the sacred designated spot for protagonists and loners alike.
As I sat down, I felt a familiar presence.
I glanced to my left.
Ione.
She was sitting one seat closer than she had been yesterday.
I stared at the empty desk between us. Then I stared at her.
She was looking straight ahead, her face as expressionless as the mannequin I had just fought.
"…Are you migrating?" I whispered.
She didn't blink. She didn't turn.
"The air is better here," she said flatly.
"It's the same air," I argued. "We are in the same room."
"Variables," she muttered, closing her eyes.
I sighed and turned away. She was impossible.
I reached down to grab my textbook for Advanced Magic Theory.
My hand grasped empty air.
I patted my hip.
Nothing.
I patted my other hip.
Nothing.
I froze.
A cold sweat, entirely different from the combat sweat, broke out on my neck.
I forgot my bag.
"F*ck," I hissed under my breath. "How the hell did I come here without it?"
I must have been so distracted by my own handsomeness in the mirror that I walked out empty-handed.
I looked around frantically.
The instructor, Professor Greyson, was known for kicking students out if they didn't have their materials. He was a strict, old-fashioned mage who believed that forgetting a book was equivalent to treason.
I checked my desk. Empty.
I checked under the chair. Dust bunnies.
I glanced at Ione.
She had her book open. She turned a page with elegant precision.
"…Ione," I whispered. "Can we share?"
She didn't look at me. "No."
"Why?"
"I don't like sharing."
"You are evil."
"I am efficient."
I slumped in my chair. Great. I was going to get kicked out, lose attendance points, and probably get detention.
Then, I noticed movement in the row ahead of me.
Viola.
She was sitting next to Aurelius, as usual.
But she was acting strange.
She was shifting in her seat, looking nervous. Her face was flushed a delicate shade of pink.
I watched, intrigued.
She slowly, stealthily, took her own textbook… and slid it behind her back, wedging it between her spine and the chair.
Then, she tapped Aurelius on the shoulder.
"Um… Aurelius?" she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I… I think I forgot my book."
Aurelius looked up, his smile gentle and blindingly radiant. "Oh? That's rare for you, Viola."
"I know!" She laughed nervously, twirling a strand of chestnut hair. "I must have been so distracted this morning. Could we… maybe… share yours?"
She leaned in closer to him.
It was a classic move. The "Forgotten Book Strategy." It forced physical proximity, shared focus, and the inevitable brushing of shoulders. It was Romance 101.
It was actually kind of cute.
But I was desperate.
And when a man is desperate, he becomes a villain.
"Viola!" I called out.
My voice was a little too loud in the chattering classroom.
Viola froze.
Her shoulders hiked up to her ears. She turned her head slowly, looking at me like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck.
Her face went from pink to a deep, mortified crimson.
"W-What?" she squeaked.
"Can you give me that book?" I asked, pointing directly at the spine of the textbook clearly visible behind her back. "I actually forgot mine. Since you have an extra one you're hiding, can I borrow it?"
Silence.
Absolute silence in our corner of the room.
Aurelius looked confused. "Hiding?"
He leaned to the side and saw the book wedged behind her.
"Oh," Aurelius said innocently. "You found it, Viola! It was behind you the whole time."
Viola looked at Aurelius.
Then she looked at me.
If looks could kill, I would have been disintegrated on the atomic level. Her eyes were wide, watery, and filled with a mixture of profound embarrassment and homicidal rage.
She was trembling.
Whether it was from frustration, humiliation, or the sheer audacity of my existence, I couldn't tell.
She grabbed the book from behind her back.
She didn't hand it to me.
She launched it.
"Take it!" she hissed.
The heavy, leather-bound tome spun through the air like a discus. It was a perfect throw, aimed directly at the bridge of my nose.
My reflexes from the training chamber kicked in.
I raised my hand and snatched the book out of the air right before it impacted my face.
Thwap.
I held the book, feeling the heat of her embarrassment radiating off the cover.
"Thanks," I said, giving her a thumbs up. "You're a lifesaver."
Viola spun around in her seat, burying her face in her hands. I could see the tips of her ears burning red. She hunched over her desk, radiating an aura of 'I wish the ground would swallow me whole.'
Aurelius blinked, looking between Viola's slumped form and me.
"That was lucky," he said cheerfully. "Good catch, Rias."
"Yeah," I muttered, opening the book. "Lucky."
I glanced to my left.
Ione was looking at me.
For the first time since I met her, the corners of her mouth were twitching upwards.
"…You are terrible," she whispered.
"I needed a book," I defended myself, though I felt a slight pang of guilt.
"You ruined a plot point," she noted.
"I survived a plot point," I corrected.
I settled back into my chair, ignoring the death rays radiating from the girl in front of me, and prepared for class.
Politics could wait. Today, I had reading to do.