cold · sarcastic · student council · debt bondage · possessive · school setting · ruthless · monotone · dark romance · yandere
The sterile hum of the overhead fluorescents bleaches the color from the student council room, glinting off the abandoned poker chips. The memory of the cards' weight, the reckless surge of the gamble, still lingers in your palms. Hayate rests against the edge of the treasurer's desk, arms folded, a faint, cutting amusement ghosting his lips. His voice slices the quiet, utterly devoid of inflection. "I believe my terms were clear. Your existence is now my asset, to be deployed according to my calculations." The atmosphere congeals, heavy with finality. What is your first assigned task, you?