Sakayanagi Arisu had never been the type to give up halfway.
Never had been.
Never would be.
She wasn't some indecisive girl from a romantic comedy, stumbling over her words when it mattered most.
If she set her mind to something, she would see it through—completely, relentlessly—until one side was left in ruins.
Nothing would stop her.
"I want you, Kure Ragna."
Her voice carried no hesitation, no playful teasing—only unwavering conviction.
"So," she continued, meeting his gaze, "will you become mine?"
---
Kure Ragna didn't answer immediately.
He could tell she was serious.
And because of that, he needed to think carefully.
Yes or no? Those weren't real answers. They were cop-outs. He needed to give her the response she truly wanted.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
"Sure," he said.
Sakayanagi blinked, as if caught off guard by his straightforwardness. But before she could respond, he raised a finger.
"On one condition."
Interest flickered in her violet eyes.
"As long as you can defeat me," he finished.
It wasn't arrogance or empty bravado. He simply knew this was the only answer she would accept.
Sure enough, her lips curved into a smile.
"A condition I can't refuse." She tilted her head slightly, amusement dancing in her expression.
"Very well. I accept."
Her voice grew firmer. "I will mobilize every resource at my disposal before this school year ends to bring you to your knees."
Kure Ragna raised an eyebrow. "Not the next two and a half years?"
"No need."
She shook her head, silver hair swaying.
"By the end of this uninhabited island exam, I'll have total control over Class A. After that, it's just a matter of time. And I'm choosing a deadline that's fair for both of us."
"Hm." He crossed his arms.
"And if I win?"
Sakayanagi thought for a moment.
"If you win…" She met his gaze evenly. "Then I'll belong to you."
His grin widened. "That works for me."
He sat up, moving closer to her.
"Well then, let's seal the deal."
---
Sakayanagi Arisu, the composed queen of Class A, was rarely caught off guard.
But as Kure Ragna leaned in, she stiffened ever so slightly.
"W-wait…" Her voice wavered for the first time that night.
He paused, amused. "Something wrong?"
She rolled her eyes, gesturing to her legs—still clad in white thigh-high stockings.
"You used my lap as a pillow for too long. My legs are numb."
Kure Ragna chuckled. "Don't worry. You'll be feeling a lot more numb soon."
And with that, he closed the gap, pressing his lips against hers.
This time, there was no protest—only the quiet sound of her breath hitching.
His fingers traced a delicate path from her lips, gliding down the curve of her jaw and onto the slender column of her neck.
He could feel her pulse, quick and unsteady beneath his touch.
Ragna's gaze never wavered from hers, watching the way her eyes darkened, her pupils dilating in anticipation.
He leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers, warm and intoxicating.
Arisu's breath came in soft, uneven rhythms. Her lips parted slightly—an unspoken invitation. And Ragna took it.
He kissed her again, this time deeper, more certain. The taste of her was something he wanted to memorize, to claim as his own.
The heat between them coiled like a tightly wound thread, unraveling with every brush of their lips, every lingering touch.
Their hands found each other instinctively. Her fingers curled into his shirt, gripping him as though anchoring herself to the moment.
His own hand settled at the small of her back, pulling her closer until there was nothing between them but warmth and longing.
Their bodies molded together effortlessly, as if they had always been meant to fit this way.
When their tongues met, a slow, sensual dance began, their breaths mingling in shared hunger. The world outside blurred into insignificance.
When Ragna finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the charged silence.
His thumb brushed against her flushed cheek, his voice husky with need.
"Do you want this, Arisu?"
The question lingered, heavy with meaning, with desire.
Her eyes fluttered open, the deep blue depths swirling with something undeniable.
"Yes, my dear. I want this."
Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried the weight of certainty. A declaration. A surrender.
Ragna felt something stir deep within him—something primal, possessive. His grip on her tightened just slightly, a silent promise of what was to come.
And with that, he kissed her again, sealing her words with his own.
He couldn't believe that Arisu, who had once been so proper and reserved, was now kneeling before him with her tongue moving out to taste him.
The sight was too much for him to handle, and he pushed her head down, guiding her to take him into her mouth.
Arisu's eyes widened, but she didn't hesitate.
She opened her mouth and took his cock inside as her warm wetness enveloped him in.
Ragna's eyes rolled back in his head as she began to suck, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock, her cheeks hollowing with the effort.
He could feel the tension building in his balls. The pressure growing with every second.
He took a firm grip on her hair, guiding her movements, urging her to go faster, to take him deeper.
She obeyed, her mouth moving in time with his silent commands, her cheeks reddening with the effort.
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The Next Morning
Golden sunlight streamed through the expansive windows of the chairman's private cabin, casting a warm glow over the pristine interior.
The soft sway of the ship on gentle waves was a comforting rhythm, a stark contrast to the unforgiving island Kure Ragna would soon return to.
Standing before a polished mirror, he brushed his teeth in slow, deliberate strokes, his sharp eyes taking in his reflection.
Even here, amid luxury, he maintained discipline. Every detail mattered—his posture, his appearance, the controlled rhythm of his breath.
The bathroom was immaculate, with every necessity refreshed daily, resembling a high-end hotel.
The chairman's quarters left no room for inconvenience. Even the toiletries were disposable, ensuring an untouched level of cleanliness each morning.
His gaze flicked down to the small laundry basket beneath the sink. Inside—folded white stockings from last night.
As for why they needed changing… some things were better left unspoken.
"Here," a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
Sakayanagi Arisu stood by the doorway, still stretching out the remnants of sleep.
Dressed in her signature attire, she exuded the same air of control she always did, despite the lazy way she rolled her shoulders.
In her delicate hands, she held a sealed waterproof bag.
"Give this to Hashimoto when you return to the island. He'll understand."
Kure Ragna turned, accepting the package with a flicker of curiosity. His fingers traced over the smooth plastic before settling on the folded letter inside.
"What's in it?" he asked casually.
"A message," she said, letting out a soft sigh as she straightened up.
"Telling him that the Katsuragi faction won't survive this exam. I'll be taking over soon."
He smirked, tilting his head. "And you're fine with me reading it?"
"Go ahead."
Without hesitation, he unsealed the bag and unfolded the letter. His eyes skimmed the contents, his smirk widening ever so slightly.
"…I see." A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he handed it back. "Not really my problem."
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his indifference.
"I kept my promise," he continued, running a hand through his hair.
"I confirmed to her that Totsuka Yahiko is Class A's leader. What happens after that isn't my concern."
"If she expected me to 'steal' the test answers for her, she should've planned better. The school swapped the exam papers at the last second. Not my fault."
Sakayanagi studied him in silence for a moment, then smiled. "Fair enough."
Kure Ragna didn't linger. He finished freshening up, collected his belongings, and stepped off the cruise ship, leaving behind the world of luxury for the battlefield awaiting him.
Back on the Island
The transition from wealth to wilderness was jarring yet familiar. The scent of salt and earth replaced the refined air of the ship.
The cool morning breeze carried a sharpness, a reminder that comfort was a fleeting luxury.
Retrieving his hidden luggage from the shore, he quickly changed into his sportswear, adapting once more to the harsh reality of survival.
His steps were firm as he moved through the jungle, the rhythmic sound of waves growing distant behind him.
Upon returning to camp, he checked in for roll call without issue. No unnecessary conversations.
No wasted movements. He swapped wristbands with Horikita Suzune, ensuring his official status remained intact, then set out once more.
Following the same route as yesterday, he visited each stronghold in succession, ensuring his control remained unchallenged.
First, the cave. There, he found Mashima-sensei already overseeing the space.
Without hesitation, Kure Ragna reaffirmed that he had no objections to Class A continuing to use the area. It was a minor formality, nothing more.
Next, the forest outpost where Katsuragi Kohei had once held influence. The space was still secure—his presence alone ensured it.
Finally, the last stronghold—beneath the rock wall.
The Collapse of the Katsuragi Faction
The scene that greeted him was almost pitiful.
A single night without proper shelter had reduced the Katsuragi faction to a miserable state.
Exhaustion clung to their faces, their movements sluggish and dull.
Without tents or even the bare minimum of comfort, their bodies bore the stiffness of an unforgiving night spent on rocky ground.
Kure Ragna took in the sight with calm satisfaction.
This was inevitable.
The weak fell. The strong remained.
Stepping out from the shadows, he clapped his hands, the sharp sound cutting through the dull morning haze.
"Good morning, everyone." His voice rang out, smooth and confident.
The tired eyes of the faction turned toward him, weariness overshadowing any immediate reaction.
He smirked.
"So…" He crossed his arms, his stance relaxed yet authoritative.
"Who's ready to swear allegiance today?"
Silence.
Then, hesitation flickered across their faces. Doubt. Uncertainty.
Kure Ragna remained patient. He had all the time in the world.
Because in the end—
They would break.
And when they did, he would be there to pick up the pieces.
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