Which art student is skilled at giving speeches and is also a leader?

The Maizuru Private Academy campus was comprised of four buildings: the general classroom building, the specialized classroom building, the club building, and the multi-purpose building. Viewed from above, these four structures formed a square, each connected by skywalks to its neighboring buildings. Enclosed at the heart of these halls was an open courtyard—the revered haven of the popular students.

As soon as lunchtime arrived, the courtyard would brim with couples—boys and girls paired off, feeding each other, whispering sweet nothings, weaving the ever-repeating tales of youthful school romance. Those who remained single could only stand aside as silent observers, like trees shading the scene.

With his usual cool and aloof expression, Kiyomizu Matsudaira crossed the courtyard, which was crowded with couples even in the rain, and arrived at the entrance of the club building.

“This Friday, the Wind Ensemble will be performing in the Old Auditorium. All teachers and students are warmly invited to attend!”

“The Film Club urgently needs actors for our microfilm project. If you think you have screen presence, come sign up!”

“The Tennis Club has a match this afternoon!”

No sooner had he stepped through the doors than a flurry of flyers was thrust before him by eager club members. Ignoring these, Kiyomizu walked straight to the bulletin board, where notices for club recruitment were posted in a dazzling array.

Though the semester had already been underway for more than two months, club recruitment remained in full swing. Maizuru Private Academy was the most prestigious school in the area, demanding not only academic excellence but also well-rounded extracurricular development from its students. By graduation, one’s resume had to boast more than just outstanding grades—blank spaces were not tolerated.

Kiyomizu paused before the bulletin board, his eyes quickly scanning the eclectic assortment of club invitations.

“If you’re a man, come fence! — Fencing Club.”
The tension in this club could be felt just from the slogan.

“The Soccer Club is recruiting a left-wing substitute, ideally someone who can also play forward. Our goal is the national championship! If you’re just here to admire the beautiful female manager, don’t waste our time!”
From this, it was clear the soccer club was a classic hot-blooded team.
Practicing dribbling and shooting alone in Tokyo at four in the morning, tears of joy or regret on the field...

Though Kiyomizu secretly longed for the adrenaline-fueled youth of sports anime, his current life goal was to ascend to the peak of school social life—the realm of the popular and fulfilled. A sports club full of boys simply wasn’t on his radar.

“Tennis Club recruiting...”

“The Track and Field Club urgently needs a performer for the Dragon Siphon event...”

Tea Ceremony Club, Photography Club...
He scanned them one by one until his gaze caught on the Game Club’s notice.

“Down with Sony fanboys, crush the softies, Nintendo rules the world! — Game Club.”

Kiyomizu immediately averted his eyes and read the notice below, muttering to himself, “Nintendo fanboys are the dumbest creatures on earth.”

“Literary Club seeks Assistant A.”
“Responsibilities include:
1. Correcting unhealthy trends on campus.
2. Possessing noble character and offering timely help to those in need.
3. Making the world a more interesting place.
Location: Old Auditorium, Room 306.
Requirements: Male, quick-witted, not fond of socializing.”

Though he had never joined a proper club, Kiyomizu could tell from the description that the Literary Club was anything but conventional.

Perfect.
If it were too serious, he wouldn’t want to join anyway.
Besides, his good friend Hachi was already in the Literary Club—there was no harm in taking a look.
And conveniently, Room 305 next door belonged to the Speech Club.
All was falling into place.

Kiyomizu turned and made his way toward the old auditorium beside the athletic field.

Maizuru Private Academy had stood for over a century. The auditorium, built in the 30th year of the Showa era, was now nearly seventy years old—the oldest building on campus.

Crossing the field, he was greeted by the sight of the grand three-story wooden structure. The exterior was in poor condition, with half the walls decaying and the other half covered in a lush blanket of ivy. From a distance, it looked like a condemned building.

Since the start of the new millennium, the school administration had repeatedly attempted to demolish the old auditorium and build anew on its foundations. But each time, student protests—citing the preservation of Maizuru’s history—had forced the administration to back down. The most intense conflict erupted in 1999, when both sides stood their ground, facing off in and around the auditorium for an entire semester.

The affair became so heated that the media and government officials got involved. Ultimately, under public pressure, the school was forced to compromise, funding the restoration of the old auditorium and building a new one elsewhere on campus. Only then did the uproar subside.

Now, more than twenty years later, the restored auditorium was once again on the verge of collapse. Climbing the moss-covered stone steps and entering the grand, timeworn doors, Kiyomizu was met by the smell of age and history. This was home to the older, more atmospheric clubs—Calligraphy, Tea Ceremony, Literary.

Ascending the creaking wooden staircase to the third floor, he began searching each club room according to his mission, first entering Room 305, the Speech Club.

Inside, four students were divided into two groups, seemingly engaged in a heated debate.

A banner hung above their heads: “Rice Fundamentalists vs. Noodle Reformists.” Both sides, faces set in grim determination, waged a war of words.

“Anyone still eating rice balls must be a backward savage fit to be bitten by dogs!”

“So you love flour that much? Are you a dog raised by Americans? Japanese people should eat rice!”

“You’re just stubborn!”

“And you’re bent on deconstructing the very core of Japanese identity!”

After a few minutes of bickering, the debate gradually devolved into a lament about how “anyone who graduates without a girlfriend is a loser.” The fattest of the group, who looked like the club president, shook his fist in the air and shouted, “Why is it that in two years, not a single girl has taken an interest in us? It’s so unfair! The popular kids are too enviable—I want to be one of them!”

Kiyomizu quietly slipped back outside and checked the sign on the door. After confirming it was indeed the Speech Club, he re-entered, just as the four inside noticed him.

“Welcome, new member!”

Three upperclassmen spread their arms wide in an unnerving display of enthusiasm—a gesture so off-putting, it was no wonder no girls had given them a second glance in years.

Kiyomizu took a wary step back. He was only here because of a mission from the system, not to join the club.

“Hold on!”
The fat president stopped his clubmates, turning to Kiyomizu. “Before you join us, you need to answer one question: Do you support Japanese people eating rice or noodles?”

Kiyomizu hesitated, then replied, “Why not just eat rice and noodles together?”

Carbs on carbs—fairly common in Japan.
But at his answer, the president immediately erupted in anger. “You’re the biggest heretic of all! Yamagami should have come after you before Abe!”

“We can’t let heresy slide!” The other three lunged at him, claws bared.

Just as the handsome but fragile underclassman was about to be set upon by four burly, unattractive seniors, justice arrived.

With a loud bang, the door was thrown open.
A petite, strikingly beautiful girl with a red armband—clearly from the student council—burst in, followed by a dozen council members.

“The Speech Club has failed to meet the minimum requirement of five members for over six months. According to club management regulations, we hereby notify you: as of now, the Speech Club is officially downgraded to an Interest Group! You will no longer receive club funding or have a dedicated club room. Please vacate immediately. This room will be reclaimed and reassigned.”

The four seniors instantly wilted, defeated before the fight began.

“It’s Vice President Hanashiro. We’re doomed...”

“There’s no escaping this...”

“No one can save us now...”
The upperclassmen clutched their heads in despair, so pitiful it was almost comical.

With a wave of her delicate hand, the petite vice president commanded her council members to begin clearing the room, exuding an air of menacing authority.

It was the very scene described in the system’s mission.
Which meant it was time for Kiyomizu to step forward and deliver a rousing speech, stirring the Speech Club to resistance.

But how should he begin?

Kiyomizu felt a surge of nerves. He had never spoken publicly to so many people, nor was he particularly eloquent, and that Vice President Hanashiro looked like trouble.

Still, he had to try.

Steeling himself, he walked to the center of the room, sweeping his gaze over the cowering Speech Club members, the student council enforcers, and the puzzled, wary Hanashiro.

He took a deep breath, steadying his pounding heart, and shouted with all his might:

“Members of the Speech Club, I’m just like you—a regular student oppressed by the student council...”

The noisy clubroom gradually fell silent.
Everyone stared at him with a bewildered, “Who is this guy?” look.

“...Kindness, gentleness, and diligence have forged the admirable character of Maizuru students, but these are not reasons for the student council to bully us! They were born from among us, yet instead of helping, they wield power to oppress!”

Everyone in the room paused, hands frozen in mid-action.

He dares challenge the student council?
Is he out of his mind?
What’s the difference between this and courting death?

The onlookers gawked at the boy as if he were a freak, but in the eyes of the fat president, a spark of defiance flickered to life.

The feeling of being the center of attention was far more mortifying than Kiyomizu had imagined. His mind buzzed with embarrassment, and he wanted nothing more than to flee.

But determined to overcome his social anxiety, he forced himself to go on.

“Speech Club, get up!”

“No more kneeling!”

“You must realize, a student who only knows how to protest is a spineless student! A club that only knows how to protest is a spineless club! We must defend ourselves through resistance! If we cannot win through protest, then we must use our fists.”

“We will fight with our own hands for the clubroom we depend on!”

After a few lines, it felt as though he had expelled all the air from his lungs. Sweat drenched his body, his thoughts a blank haze.

When he finally recovered, he saw Vice President Hanashiro’s face dark with fury, the four Speech Club members rolling up their sleeves, and the student council members eyeing him with hostility.

Kiyomizu opened his mouth, “Uh...”

Was it too late to apologize?

But before he could say another word, the club president shouted, “Let’s get them!” and the four charged the student council.

Unused to resistance, the council was caught off guard and quickly overwhelmed, giving ground with every blow.

“Stop! Cut it out—stop right now!”
Vice President Hanashiro’s voice rose in desperation, but to no effect.

Unable to halt the chaos, she turned to find the culprit—only to discover he had already slipped away.

“Damn you! Don’t let me catch you! This isn’t over between us...”

As the girl’s furious cries faded, Kiyomizu had already darted into the empty Literary Club next door, closing the door behind him.

He braced his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

What a thrill.

Never mind the consequences of offending the student council—he first checked the system.

[Ding]

[Mission completed]

[Premium Tag acquired: Orator]

[Notice: New tag synthesis available]

Intrigued, Kiyomizu opened the synthesis page.

A virtual frame appeared before him. Focusing, he dragged the “Art Student” and “Orator” tags into the frame.

[Synthesizing: Art Student + Orator]

[Synthesizing...]

[New tag acquired]

Kiyomizu’s mind stirred.

A flash of golden light shot before his eyes, and a brand-new tag materialized.

[Tag: Leader]

[Rarity: Epic]

[Base Effect: While equipped, Charisma +1, Intelligence +2; grants quick wit and eloquence; confers an aura of affinity and leadership, making you an exceptionally charismatic leader in the eyes of others.]

“...?”

“What kind of art student is also an orator and a leader?”

Kiyomizu stared hard at the description, and all he could see between the lines was a little mustache.

Damn it, it’s you, Adolf!