[Student Council Office – The Next Day]
The next day, Iruma was already seated at his desk, his eyes half-lidded, arms folded. He hadn't said much since morning. Even in silence, his presence felt heavier — colder.
During lunch, Quichelight and Western strolled over, chatting like usual.
"You're surprisingly getting along well, Iruma-kun," Quichelight commented with a smirk.
"Guess you've fully synced with the Council now," added Western, brushing his bangs back confidently.
They turned to one another.
"By the way, remember that I'm your Senpai," Western quipped.
"You're in the same grade as me. That doesn't count." Quichelight frowned.
"It does if I say so. That's how charisma works."
Their bickering echoed lightly in the room. Iruma's sharp eyes slowly opened. His tone was flat.
"Why did you two join the Student Council?"
'They act like fools, but there must be something behind it.'
The duo immediately responded in harmony:
"Classified."
Quichelight added:
"It'd just take too long to explain, you know?"
Western crossed his arms and tilted his chin with pride.
"But let's just say it's because of Ameri-sama. I'm jealou-slay for her leadership."
Iruma's expression darkened slightly. A flicker of annoyance passed over his face.
"That's pathetic."
"Oho? That's a compliment coming from you," Western grinned. "You should feel honored to share the same room as us."
'Tch. Noisy.'
Meanwhile, just outside the room, Ameri, along with Smoke and Grave, quietly observed from behind the half-open door.
"He's fitting in, isn't he?" Grave murmured.
"He reminds me of when you dragged us in," Smoke added with a slight chuckle.
"You mean when I recruited a bunch of weirdos?" Ameri asked flatly.
"Exactly."
Ameri crossed her arms, watching Iruma with narrowed eyes.
"They're not weird… they're interesting."
Suddenly, the intercom crackled to life with static. A distorted voice echoed through the halls:
"Ameri Azazel, report to Prep Room #3 immediately."
No hesitation. No words. Ameri stepped away from the group and walked toward the hallway. She reached the room.
'Something's off.'
The moment she stepped inside—
FSSHH—!!
A cloud of gas engulfed her. Her vision blurred, and within seconds, she collapsed. A cloaked figure watched silently from the shadows.
---
[Student Council Room – Moments Later]
The door burst open.
"This is an emergency!" shouted Baraki, the President of the Broadcast Battler.
"That announcement—it wasn't from us!"
The Student Council stood frozen. Iruma's eyes narrowed.
"Who used the system?"
Without wasting another second, the group rushed to Prep Room #3. Ameri lay unconscious on the floor. Smoke dashed to her side.
"Ameri!"
As her name echoed in the room, her fingers twitched. Her eyes opened slowly.
"Nn... everyone...?"
But something was… off.
Her expression softened. Her posture was more shy than sharp.
"I… I'm alright. But… um… could you help me change into something a little less… revealing?"
Quichelight blinked. "Eh?"
Western gasped. "Did… she just ask for modest clothes?!"
Iruma stood silently, observing. His voice was calm, but icy.
"Someone rewrote her... personality?"
Iruma's feet pounded against the tile floor. His eyes — now spinning with the Mangekyō Sharingan — scanned every shadow, every flicker of movement.
There!
The figure darted around a corner, cloak trailing like mist. Iruma activated Amenotejikara, switching places with a hanging banner nearby — appearing instantly in the corridor ahead.
But it was empty.
Just the faint scent of incense… and a rune drawn in ash on the wall.
"Amaterasu"
Iruma gritted his teeth.
"A teleportation sigil. Tch."
He knelt down, brushing a hand over the rune. Even touching it gave him a pulse of sickening, cold energy.
"This isn't normal magic nor normal speed… maybe he is Rank 6."
---
[Hallways – Observing the Change]
As the Student Council strode through the halls, every step echoed authority. Yet the surrounding students whispered not in fear, but in confusion.
"She's... smiling?"
"Was that a bow?! That's not like Ameri-sama..."
The change hadn't gone unnoticed. The commanding president now held herself with softer grace, offering kind words and gentle nods to students passing by.
Inside the formation, the Student Council members exchanged glances.
"She's still acting like that," Smoke murmured.
"It doesn't feel right," Grave added. "This isn't the president we know."
Iruma kept silent, eyes lowered in thought.
He lifted his head just slightly — and from the side of the crowd, a shadowed figure caught his attention. For just a heartbeat. A cloaked silhouette. Then gone. Into the hallway.
His expression darkened.
'Was that... the one behind it? I was chasing?'
[ Other Students – Clara & Azz]
Elsewhere, near a staircase, Clara bounced anxiously as she peeked at the passing Council.
"She's acting weird... right, Azzie? Is she her sister?"
"No. She isn't"
Azz stood with arms crossed, eyes sharp, watching Iruma from afar.
"It's unnatural. But if Iruma-sama's involved… then I must help."
Just as he stepped forward, a hand grabbed his shoulder.
"Time for training, little junior," grinned his Battler senior, Gal, dragging Azz away.
--
[ Flashback – The Diagnosis]
Inside a dimly lit office, Momonoki-sensei gently questioned Ameri.
"Do you remember who you are? Your duties? Your rank?"
"Yes, of course."
Kalego stood with arms crossed in the corner.
"It isn't memory loss. It's psychological tampering. A subtle mental spell that shifted her personality. Whoever cast it was skilled — too skilled to leave a trace."
Momonoki frowned. "If we forcefully remove it, we risk breaking her mind..."
Kalego nodded. "However, by maintaining her routine, her subconscious may reject the false identity on its own."
---
[ Back in the Present – Student Council Room]
The Student Council returned to their room, tense and silent — only to be met with an unexpected scene.
"Welcome back!" Ameri greeted them with a bright smile. "I made tea and sweets for everyone!"
The air stiffened. Grave blinked slowly. Smoke looked to the ceiling in exasperation.
Iruma's eyes remained cold, scanning the room.
"Thank you... President," he said, voice flat.
'She's not herself... but she's still here. We'll get her back.'
Grave sighed. "We have to catch whoever did this."
Smoke nodded. "We owe it to her."
Iruma clenched his fist slightly beneath the table.
---
[ Later That Day – Student Council Patrol]
Ameri moved ahead, her steps graceful but sluggish — a far cry from the sharp, efficient leader she once was. Each document she handed out, every request she filed, and all the commands she gave were done with hesitant fingers and unsure glances.
"Um... please review this when you're not too busy..."
The council trailed behind her, smiling through gritted teeth as they picked up the slack she left behind.
'This isn't sustainable…' Iruma's sharp eyes never left Ameri's figure. 'At this rate, she's dragging herself — and the whole council — down i must help her to get back her actual humor.'
As they rounded a corner, Ameri suddenly turned.
"Everyone... am I being a burden?"
The council members froze. Smoke gave a forced chuckle. "Of course not, President."
"Yeah," Grave added, wiping his brow. "We're all glad you're still working with us."
Ameri beamed. "I'm relieved. Thank you."
Once she was out of earshot, the three members collapsed onto a bench with synchronized groans.
"I'm dying..." Grave muttered.
"This much paperwork in one day… I feel like I aged ten years," Smoke wheezed.
Iruma stood nearby, arms folded, staring into space.
"Anyone have any leads on who cast the spell?"
They all looked up.
"Not really..." Grave said. "But..."
"We do have a prime suspect," Smoke added, narrowing his eyes.
Iruma's gaze sharpened.
"Then we start there."
'Whoever you are... I'll drag you into her foot.
---
[ Council Room – Ronove's Intrusion]
As the council returned, the doors to their chamber were wide open.
'Unusual…' Iruma narrowed his eyes. 'We don't leave it like this.'
A sweet, almost sickening aroma wafted through the air. Pinkish mist and roses lay scattered inside like confetti after a masquerade.
At the center of it all stood a flamboyant figure, flamboyant coat and smug smile in place — Ronove Lomiere, flanked by two swooning female attendants.
"Quichelight," Iruma said calmly, "Who is he?"
Quichelight leaned closer, whispering, "That's Ronove. Our prime suspect. From the Disciplinary Battler."
Grave chimed in. "He's been eyeing Ameri's seat for a while now… says he wants to take over the council."
"You all whisper like I'm not even here," Ronove huffed, twirling a rose. "Well then—let me make myself perfectly clear."
He spread his arms theatrically.
"I, Ronove Lomiere, shall usurp the Student Council President position and lead this school into a new era of fabulous justice!"
With that, he broke into an unnecessarily long and dramatic song praising himself. Iruma stood frozen, his expression blank.
'...What the hell is this?'
Johnny clenched his fist. "Enough!" he snapped. "Get out of here, Ronove!"
But Ronove paid him no mind, spinning and singing even louder. After the song ended, Quichelight explained the long-standing rivalry between the Disciplinary Battler and the Student Council.
Grave approached Ronove with a scowl. "You're the one who cast that spell on Ameri, aren't you?!"
Ronove gasped as Grave grabbed him.
"N-Not the man-touch! Not for 6.6 seconds!"
His legs gave out. Only the shower of petals from his attendants revived him.
"You shall regret this," he declared. "Ameri, I challenge you to a dissolution election! Here—my supporters!"
He slammed down a scroll filled with names — all students previously punished by the Council.
As if to punctuate the mockery, he stepped forward and gently twirled a strand of Ameri's hair.
"Why not join me as my secretary once I ascend to power?"
Suddenly—
SLAP!
Ronove's hand was knocked away with a sharp motion. All three turned in shock.
Iruma stood before him, eyes cold and voice low.
"Don't touch her without her consent."
'That was disgusting to watch.'
Ronove and his girls gasped.
"T-Touched by a man… 0.6 seconds! And now a slap !!"
They huddled in theatrical agony. But as Iruma's eyes bore into Ronove's, the atmosphere changed.
"Who are you?!" Ronove asked, staggering back.
"Someone who doesn't tolerate cowards hiding behind perfume and paperwork," Iruma replied.
Tears streamed down Ronove's face, melodramatically. "How dare you… make me feel shame! I'll make you all RETIRE!"
He spun, cloak fluttering as he made a theatrical exit.
'So, he wants a war...' Iruma thought, staring at the door.