"Play with me, Sakurai-kun~!"
Inside the Student Council Room, Sakurai Saki sat on the sofa, freshly finished with a stack of club applications. His face was blank. His soul, already half-gone.
Fujiwara Chika was vigorously shaking his shoulders like a hyperactive squirrel.
"Do you remember, Fujiwara-kun," he said slowly, "that last year you lost to me... 186 times? With four draws?"
He paused for effect.
"Which means... you've never won. Not once."
Fujiwara blinked, stunned.
"Even flipping a coin would give you better odds," Sakurai continued. "It's a statistical anomaly. A cosmic joke. A sign, perhaps, from the gods themselves."
He gave her a polite clap.
"You are, in fact, astonishing, Fujiwara-kun."
Fujiwara Chika let out a shocked gasp, eyes wide.
"I lost that many times?!"
"Not even once," Kaguya Shinomiya added dryly from her seat, not bothering to look up from her tea.
Fujiwara slumped forward with a groan, dropping a deck of cards onto the table.
"I was going to bet tomorrow's lunch with Sakurai-kun… What a waste…"
"Oh?" Sakurai tilted his head thoughtfully. "A small bet like that... sounds fun."
Truthfully, he had been aiming for her bento from the beginning.
Lunch wasn't cheap, especially when you lived alone and worked part-time after school to make ends meet. Cooking wasn't even in the cards—he barely had enough energy to exist.
His mother sent money from afar, but aside from New Year's visits, he was largely on his own.
So yes, free food was worth a little psychological warfare.
"Then it's settled!" Fujiwara's spirit reignited instantly. "Old Maid! The ultimate classic!"
She dealt the cards with confident flair.
Unknown to her opponents, she had practiced all night—and had marked each card with tiny, nearly invisible symbols.
No way she'd lose this time!
"Fujiwara, have you heard of Waterloo?"
"Apollo?"
"No. Napoleon," Sakurai replied, patiently. "Victory breeds pride. Pride blinds. And when you think you're invincible, that's when fate delivers its cruelest blow."
Fujiwara tilted her head, frowning. "But I've been losing the whole time?"
"Exactly." He nodded solemnly. "Which means your luck is overdue for a reversal. Statistically speaking, your odds of winning today are... quite high."
He glanced at Kaguya. She noticed his implication, but said nothing.
"The stars align," Sakurai said with mock gravity. "This might just be your day."
Completely fooled, Fujiwara pumped her fist.
"Alright! Let's make it big! Three lunches!"
"Fine by me." Sakurai smiled gently. Not too greedy. Just opportunistic.
"Then let's seal the deal with a death pact~!" Fujiwara chirped, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from her bag.
Sakurai leaned closer.
Written in bold were three dramatic characters: [Death Pact]
And beneath it—her name, already filled in.
He blinked.
Wait… "Death"...?
A cold bead of sweat traced down his neck.
That word, combined with her name... Today's power was still in effect.If someone so much as wrote her name with the character "death" on the same sheet of paper...
She could've actually died.
"This seems a little extreme, doesn't it?" he said, forcing a calm voice.
"Hm... maybe you're right," Fujiwara said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. She folded the page and tucked it back into her bag.
Disaster averted.
Fujiwara Secretary, you nearly signed your own death certificate. Without even realizing it, I saved your life.
The reward? Three free lunches. A fair trade.
"La la~ I'm gonna win for once~!" she sang, dealing cards with giddy excitement.
Completely unaware she'd just cheated death.
Sakurai watched her shuffle and noted her suspicious glances at the backs of her cards.
Fujiwara the Cheat Chika.
She always cheated at games. He didn't know how she'd marked the cards this time, but the glint in her eyes made it obvious—again.
"Pair of twos," he announced, drawing from her hand and discarding smoothly.
In a two-player Old Maid game, there was only one rule: don't get stuck with the Joker.
Just as the tension built, there was a soft knock at the door.
In stepped the Student Council's accountant, Ishigami Yu.
Normally, people dismissed him as a gloomy otaku—the kind who sat at the back of the room and muttered dark things under his breath.
Sakurai had once thought the same.
Until he realized Ishigami was one of the most dependable people in the Council.
Reliable. Detail-oriented.And someone who never screwed up on tasks he actually cared about.
"Morning, Ishigami-kun," Sakurai greeted, not even looking up as he drew his next card.
He was too busy watching Fujiwara's eyes dart left and right, searching his hand like a low-tier illusionist.
He stared at her.
She stared back.
She blinked.
Then—averted her gaze.
Gotcha.
"You're not going to cheat again, are you, Fujiwara-kun?"
Sakurai Saki drew a card from her hand.
A five.
"H-How could that be? Sakurai-kun always loves to joke~" Chika straightened her back with suspicious poise, which only emphasized her already conspicuous figure.
At that moment, the door opened with a faint creak.
In walked Ishigami Yu, gloom incarnate, his bangs covering half his face, dark circles under his eyes, and a school bag slung low like a reluctant burden.
"Good morning, Sakurai-senpai," he said with characteristic deadpan.
"Hmm? Isn't that Fujiwara-senpai too?" Ishigami sat beside Sakurai, took out his laptop, and began preparing the budget spreadsheet for the club recruitment event—Student Council business as usual.
A few seconds passed.
Then Ishigami frowned.
He squinted at the playing cards.
"Oh my, why are there... strange marks on the back of this deck?"
He looked up, feigning innocence. "Fujiwara-senpai, are you actually cheating in Old Maid? Seriously?"
Fujiwara froze. Her eyes darted. She let out a poor imitation of a casual whistle and tried to look anywhere but at him.
"Um, no, no! The cards came like that! I bought them with the markings, I swear!"
"Unbelievable! Absolutely unforgivable!" Ishigami's voice rose, halfway between outrage and amusement. "Cheating just because you can't beat Sakurai-senpai? So shameless. I even heard you've been doing this since last year! Who could trust anything you say now?!"
He scratched at his sleeve as if allergic to the very idea.
"Truly shameful. So shameless, this person..."
"Alright, that's enough," Sakurai Saki cut in before Ishigami could spiral into a full dramatic monologue. "There's no need to kick someone who's already lost. Over and over. Repeatedly."
After all, Fujiwara Chika had never won.
Not even once.
Maybe this room wasn't just the Student Council Room—it was the chamber of eternal defeat.
"Let's continue." Sakurai extended his hand with the remaining cards, covering the back with his index finger.
Fujiwara tensed.
"Sakurai-kun, if you cover the backs, I can't draw properly..."
"Why?"
"Uh... because..." Her brain stalled. "I-I forgot?"
"Oh, right. You have Alzheimer's. I'd forgotten too," Sakurai said helpfully. "In that case, I'll show mercy."
"That's right!" Fujiwara nodded with unwarranted enthusiasm.
From the couch, Kaguya Shinomiya let out a slow, cold sip of tea before adding with surgical precision,"Fujiwara-san, Alzheimer's is the medical term for senile dementia."
"…"
Fujiwara glared at Sakurai.
He stared back calmly.
"Uuuugh~!" Her eyes welled up. With a sniffle, she pushed her two remaining cards forward.
Sakurai calmly drew one, formed a pair, and discarded it.
Now, he had only two cards left.
"Your turn," he said, turning away dramatically to shield the backs of his remaining cards. When he turned back, he presented them toward her. "Of these two, the left one is the card you want. The right one is the Old Maid."
He pushed the left card slightly forward.
Fujiwara's eyes flicked between his fingers.
"If you think I'm tricking you," Sakurai added smoothly, "then take the right one."
Fujiwara hesitated.
He's pushing the left one—does that mean he wants me to take it?
So it's the Old Maid?
She reached toward the left.
She peeked at his face.
He smiled.
—That settles it.The Old Maid is on the left.So the right one is safe!
With a bold move, she yanked the right card.
…
It was the Old Maid.
"Why didn't you believe me?" Sakurai said gently, taking her last card.
Game over.
He smiled.
"Three lunches, Fujiwara-kun. Don't forget."
Across the room, Kaguya exhaled sharply.
This is why she never wins.
She's not fighting the game—she's fighting herself.
"Waaah~!" Chika collapsed on the table, tears forming, while she clumsily started cleaning up the cards.
"One more round! I can win next time!"
Sakurai rose from his seat and dusted off his uniform.
"Sorry," he said flatly. "I refuse."