The gym hall was dimly lit, the flickering overhead light casting long shadows over the gathered students. Takanashi leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the leather armrest, his cold stare fixed on the group of girls standing before him. Akira stood at the front, arms crossed pushing out her chest, her smirk unwavering despite the tension hanging in the air.

  "You tormented my boys while I was away, and now want a place here?" Takanashi’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

  Akira tilted her head, her smirk deepening. "Oh, Takanashi, we only entertain them," she purred, stepping forward.

  One of the girls glanced at Sato, sensing his hesitation before he stepped forward. “We were waiting for you, Takanashi. They asked if they could join us,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t see anything wrong with talking to them.”

  Takanashi’s scowl deepened as he studied Akira. She was dangerous… not in the way his fighters were, with their fists and knives, but in a way that was harder to counter. She didn’t need brute force. She could pull strings, whisper in ears, and shift the balance of power without ever lifting a blade.

  His instincts told him to reject her outright. Letting her and her girls in would complicate things. They were opportunists, manipulators. He could already see the way some of his men looked at them.

  But another part of him knew the truth, morale was slipping. His boys were exhausted, they questioned why they had to pay into the pot, why they had to share resources, why they were barred from taking advantage of the freshmen… And a single mistake, one moment of weakness, and everything would end in bloodshed, at least the game masters would enjoy the show.

  Akira knew it too. That was why she stood there, calm, confident, watching him like she had already won.

  Takanashi exhaled slowly, weighing his options. If he rejected her, she wouldn’t disappear but shutting her out wouldn’t make her disappear, it would only drive her to work against him. Letting her in meant keeping her under his watch, under his rules.

  His jaw tightened, he hated it, but she wasn’t wrong. Akira was getting under his skin. His voice was cold, final. "You don’t get special treatment because you used to sleep with Kazuto." he let out a sigh "Then you work for it. Same deal as the others. You pull your weight, or you’re out. Simple."

  The room went silent. A few of the boys watching from the sidelines exchanged glances, some amused, others wary. Akira only chuckled, unfazed. "Oh, you really think that’s the best use of us? I’m not asking for special treatment," she said smoothly, running a hand through her hair. "I’m offering you something better."

  One of Takanashi’s lieutenants, a tall guy named Ryuji, leaned forward with a smirk. "Better, huh? And what exactly do you think you have that we need?"

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Akira turned, letting her gaze drift over the gathered men, her girls standing silently behind her. "Look at them," she gestured lazily. "They’re exhausted, stressed. They fight, they bleed, and they don’t get a single moment to breathe. But we?" She placed a hand over her chest. "We can fix that."

  Takanashi scoffed. "You think I’m going to let you turn this into some brothel?"

  Akira feigned offense, placing a hand over her heart. "Oh, please. You wound me. I’m talking about morale. Comfort. Your boys…." she turned to the watching crowd, giving them a slow, knowing smile "....they need us. And you? You need them at their best. I can make sure they are."

  A ripple went through the gathered boys. A few shifted in place, some looking away while others exchanged interested glances. Takanashi saw it, his scowl deepening.

  "They do their jobs," he said firmly. "If you can keep them in line without causing trouble, fine. But the second you or your girls step out of bounds, I’ll throw you to the wolves."

  Akira smiled, slow and victorious. "Oh, Takanashi," she murmured. "You’ll see. Before long, you’ll wonder how you ever ran things without me"

  As the meeting broke apart, Akira tightened her grip on the threads of control, knowing this was just the beginning.

  Akira and her girls claimed the old locker room as their private space, doubling up on gym mats, draping it with makeshift curtains and stolen blankets. A few of Takanashi’s men lingered at the door, eager to test the boundaries of their new arrangement.

  Hiroshi sat on the opposite bleacher, watching the spectacle unfold like a predator eyeing its prey., while Takanashi and Sato went to inspect the makeshift farm by the running track.

  One particularly bold boy, Kenta, leaned against the doorframe, smirking. "So, Akira, does this new deal mean we get a little extra service?"

  Before Akira could speak, one of her girls, Hana, stepped forward. Her expression was sweet, but her grip on Kenta’s wrist was ironclad. With a sharp twist, she sent him to his knees, his face contorted in pain. "You touch without permission, you bleed," she said softly, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.

  The gym erupted in laughter led by Hiroshi.

  Kenta grimaced, rubbing his wrist as he scrambled back to his feet. "Damn, alright, I get it." He forced a chuckle, trying to salvage his pride. "Guess we’ll have to be more... persuasive."

  Akira stepped forward, her eyes locked onto Kenta’s with an unreadable expression. "You’ll have to be smarter," she corrected, her voice low and commanding. "Respect earns rewards, not brute force."

  The boys around them watched with interest, some whispering to each other, others grinning, sensing the shift in power dynamics. Akira had set the tone, and now it was time to reinforce it.

  Hana released Kenta, dusting off her hands as if dealing with him had been nothing more than an inconvenience. The tension in the air shifted slightly, the power balance tilting subtly in Akira’s favor.

  Meanwhile, Takanashi and Sato returned from the farm inspection, their faces unreadable as they surveyed the scene. Takanashi’s gaze flickered from Kenta to Akira, lingering on the smirking girls behind her. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

  "I don’t have time for petty fights," he muttered. "Just don’t let things get out of hand."

  Akira smiled sweetly. "Of course not, boss. We’re all on the same side, aren’t we?"

  Takanashi narrowed his eyes but didn’t reply. He turned sharply and strode away, leaving the lingering tension behind him.

  Akira watched him go, her smirk never wavering. She had her foot in the door. Now, all she had to do was push it open.