26 Tightening Reigns On Kushida

(Third Person's POV)

Kushida blinked at the message on her phone. Ayanokoji asking her to meet on the lowest level of the ship? It was strange, but knowing him, it probably meant an isolated chat with some orders for her to follow.

A flicker of rebellion sparked in her eyes. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to break free from his control. With a determined resolve, she took a moment to prepare herself before heading down to the requested location.

There, leaning nonchalantly against a wall, was Ayanokoji. He met her arrival with a curt nod and a single instruction: "Close the door."

(Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's POV)

The door shut with a resounding echo, the sound bouncing off the sterile walls of the deserted switchboard room. Kushida stood before me, her initial surprise melting into a defiant scowl.

"Why didn't you tell me you were the VIP of the Dragon Group?" I asked, my voice devoid of emotion.

Her eyes widened momentarily before narrowing. "Hirata, I presume?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. No more pretense of friendly innocence. The mask had slipped, revealing the ruthless pragmatist beneath.

The change didn't faze me. "That's irrelevant," I stated flatly. "The question remains."

Kushida's eyes narrowed. The mask of innocence had completely shattered, revealing the cunning manipulator that lurked beneath. "And why, pray tell, should that be any concern of yours?" she challenged. "I wasn't exactly obligated to share that information."

"Obligated, perhaps not," I conceded. "But considering our… arrangement, it wouldn't have been unreasonable to expect some transparency."

"Arrangement?" she scoffed. "That arrangement is null and void. You haven't exactly been pulling your weight in terms of helping me achieve my goals."

Her words elicited no reaction from me. I simply maintained my neutral expression, allowing her to vent her frustrations.

"And need I remind you," she continued, her voice dripping with venom, "your actions on the island exam significantly boosted Horikita's influence within Class D. Hardly the outcome I was hoping for."

Her anger was a performance, a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation. I let her rant, her words serving as a reminder of her true nature – a self-serving manipulator who would discard anyone who didn't serve her purposes.

" Furthermore, don't even think about using that stupid recording as leverage anymore," she continued, her voice rising. "I'm not afraid of you! If you're unhappy with our arrangement, take it to the school! Let them hear how you've been blackmailing me!"

Her words washed over me, devoid of any real threat. A naive attempt at intimidation.

"Blackmail?" I finally spoke, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Is that how you characterize our… cooperation?"

Her eyes narrowed. The carefully constructed facade was starting to crack. "Cooperation?" She scoffed. "You use that recording to keep me in line, and I follow your orders because I have no choice!"

"A rather dramatic portrayal," I remarked coolly. "If the school investigated, they would find nothing more than two students working together. Nothing incriminating for either of us."

A bead of sweat trickled down Kushida's temple, a sign of the unease gnawing at her. She knew I was right. The recording was a double-edged sword.

"Besides," I continued, my gaze unwavering, "was recording me truly the best course of action you could come up with?"

Her posture stiffened. "What… what do you mean?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

"Three phones, Kushida," I stated calmly. "One in your left pocket, two others strategically positioned in your right and inner jacket pockets. A desperate attempt to ensure at least one recording survives."

Her face paled. My knowledge of her plan had struck a critical blow. This wasn't just about defiance; it was a panicked attempt to seize control.

"Don't be ridiculous," she managed, her voice trembling. "I… I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Naivete isn't a good look for you, Kushida," I chided, the faintest hint of amusement creeping into my voice. "Those phones are hardly subtle."

Her face contorted in a mask of fury and frustration. "I'll edit the recording! I will make you look like the villain!" she screamed, her voice cracking.

In response, I reached into my pocket and retrieved my phone. "Don't worry," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "I've been recording this conversation as well. I will also submit this recording to the school. The unedited version."

The color drained from her face. The smugness, the defiance – all gone, replaced by a dawning realization of her predicament. She had fallen into my trap, not the other way around. Her attempt to outsmart me had backfired spectacularly.

"You… you outsmarted me," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

"Yes," I confirmed, the smile playing on my lips. "It seems cooperation suits us both better than childish games of deception, wouldn't you agree?"

She slumped against the wall, defeated. The fight was gone from her eyes, replaced by a cold acceptance of her position.

With Kushida thoroughly subdued, I issued a simple instruction: "Delete the recordings."

She offered no resistance. Like a deflated balloon, she withdrew her phones – three in total, just as I suspected – and with trembling fingers, stopped the recordings and deleted them. Her own phone followed, placed in my outstretched hand like a defeated knight surrendering their sword.

A cursory glance at the message app revealed the school's confirmation email regarding her VIP status. Predictable. I dismissed the email and delved deeper, browsing her recent conversations.

A specific message caught my eye: a request for a meeting, sent to Ryuuen Kakeru, the enigmatic leader of Class C. Intriguing.

My gaze flicked back to Kushida, now devoid of her usual bravado. "Explain," I commanded, my voice flat and emotionless.

She flinched at the single word, her posture straightening slightly. "It's… it's nothing," she stammered, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.

"Nothing?" I echoed, my voice a low growl. "Sending a clandestine message to Ryuuen falls under the category of 'nothing'?"

She bit her lip, a flicker of defiance momentarily challenging the fear in her eyes. "I… I just wanted to gauge his interest in an alliance," she mumbled, the words barely audible.

An alliance? With Ryuuen, notorious for his ruthlessness? This development was unexpected, to say the least. "Why Ryuuen?" I pressed, my voice devoid of any inflection.

"Because…" she hesitated, then blurted out, "because of Horikita. She's gaining too much influence. If I can't take her down myself, maybe Ryuuen can provide some… assistance."

A sardonic smile played on my lips, invisible to her. So, her rebellion had been short-lived, driven by a fear of irrelevance. Pathetic. "And what precisely does Ryuuen stand to gain from such an alliance?" I questioned, prodding further.

"I… I planned to offer him a deal," she stammered, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. "I would… I would provide him with the name of the VIP member in our group."

The depths of her resentment towards Horikita were becoming increasingly apparent. She was even willing to sacrifice Class Points to expel her.

An interesting turn of events. For now, however, I decided to let the situation play out. "Do as you please," I instructed, my voice neutral. "Pursue this agreement with Ryuuen. However," I continued, my gaze narrowing, "keep me informed of every detail during your negotiations."

Kushida bobbed her head in a silent agreement. But just as she turned to leave, I reached out and grasped her arm.

"One more thing," I said, my voice a low murmur.

She froze, her eyes wide with apprehension. "What… what more do you want?" she stammered.

"A punishment is necessary," I stated, my voice a monotone devoid of judgment. The coldness in my tone, however, was unmistakable.

Her eyes widened in surprise. Perhaps she thought I was bluffing, searching my face for a hint of amusement. There was none. My gaze remained steady, unwavering.

"Strip," I whispered, the word leaving my lips like a venomous hiss.

The shock was immediate. Her entire body stiffened, her eyes locked on mine. Surely, she couldn't believe I was serious. But the flicker of defiance in her gaze dimmed, replaced by a flicker of something else – fear. Genuine, raw fear.

I took a step closer, the air around me heavy with unspoken threat. "The choice is yours," I said, my voice low and menacing. "Do it willingly, or I will do it for you."

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape, for any flicker of mercy in my gaze. What she saw must have convinced her of my resolve. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Silence filled the room once more, broken only by the ragged sound of her breathing.

Slowly, her hands rose to her jacket, her movements hesitant and devoid of the usual practiced charm. Piece by piece, the facade crumbled. The jacket, the shirt, the skirt – each garment discarded with a growing sense of desperation.

Finally, she stood before me, exposed and vulnerable. Her white bra and underwear offered scant protection from my gaze. The sight was undeniably stimulating, a stark contrast to the defiance that had moments ago filled the room.

I stepped closer, my voice a low murmur in her ear. "Remember this, Kushida. A lesson learned the hard way." My touch was firm, a stark reminder of the power I wielded over her.

"This time," I continued, my voice devoid of warmth, "your… assets have secured your forgiveness. But make no mistake," I paused, letting the threat hang in the air, "from now on, this body you possess will be at my disposal whenever I deem it necessary. Remember that as well."

There was no mistaking the fear in her eyes. My words were a brand seared into her memory. She wouldn't forget the price of disobedience. This wasn't about pleasure, but control. A brutal reminder of her place within my carefully constructed game.

"Leave," I commanded, my voice dismissing her. "And remember the consequences of your actions."

A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a path down her flushed cheek. She stood there, a broken doll stripped bare of her usual bravado. The punishment wasn't physical; it was the crushing realization of her powerlessness, the complete erosion of her carefully constructed facade.