When I read the heart of the never-smiling princess, for some reason she had already fallen head over heels in love for me. - v1 Chapter 23

Chapter 23 A Sudden inspection from the Princess and us. Part 2

Jiro and I got to work inspecting the baseball club’s room, as we’d agreed earlier that only same-gender council members would handle the task. It made sense—while it seemed unlikely, some folks might get flustered if someone of the opposite gender rummaged through their stuff. Still, I doubted anyone here was *that* sensitive. That said, the blatant disappointment etched on the baseball players’ faces as we started made me second-guess my assumption.

So far, though, the inspection hadn’t turned up anything suspicious. In fact, the room was shockingly pristine for an athletics club. Equipment was neatly arranged, and personal items were tucked away in lockers. It was so well-kept it could’ve been a model for other clubs. But the earlier panic from some team members and the sharp, piercing stares tracking our every move told me it was way too soon to assume everything was above board.

The real question was whether Jiro or I could actually uncover whatever they were hiding.

“Uh, everything looks normal,” Jiro said, scratching his head. “Nothing seems out of place.”

“See? Total waste of time,” the captain shot back, his lips curling into a smug smirk.

Saeki, meanwhile, went pale as a ghost. Her eyes, starting to glisten with frustration, locked onto mine, her mouth moving as if she was trying to scream something without making a sound. It was tempting to pretend I didn’t notice—honestly, it was kind of hilarious—but knowing the wrath I’d face later, I gave her a quick nod.

*Alright, let’s do this.*

With my ability, sniffing out hidden secrets was a piece of cake. In a situation like this, where people’s guilty consciences were practically screaming, all I had to do was get close enough. No need for clever questions or mind games. Simply put, as long as I was part of this inspection, I was bound to stumble across someone’s dirty little secret—whether I wanted to or not. That’s exactly why I’d pushed for a more cautious approach, but with things escalating this far, there was no backing out now.

For now, I’d play it cool, acting like I’d just *happened* to stumble upon the captain’s secret, then tread carefully to avoid poking the bear any further.

“Geez, the student council—what’s your name again? Katsuragi, right?” the captain said, grinning arrogantly. “You should really keep your misunderstandings in check.”

“Misunderstandings, huh?” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, you only got elected because of some popularity contest,” he sneered. “No one expects you to actually work hard. Nobody cares about the student council anyway.”

Wow. He really had the nerve to say that right in front of Minami-san, the student council president herself. Alright, gloves off—no more playing nice.

“That’s a rude way to talk!” Saeki snapped, her voice crackling with indignation.

“Calm down, Nozomi,” Minami-san said, her tone steady.

“Who’s the rude one here?” I added, stepping closer to the captain.

He just shrugged, unfazed, as I moved toward him. *‘Why are women so stubborn? Such a pain. They’ll never notice the double bottom in the cardboard box anyway. We’ll just scare them off with some tough talk and get rid of them quick,’* his inner thoughts spilled out.

A double bottom, huh? I made a beeline for the cardboard box stuffed with sports equipment.

Right then, Minami-san’s voice cut through the tension like a bell. “I appreciate your concern, but regardless of how I was elected, I have no intention of slacking on my duties as student council president. That includes uncovering any secrets the baseball club and its members might be hiding.”

“Huh? Secrets? On what grounds are you even—” the captain started, but Minami-san wasn’t done.

“Takaaki-kun, please empty that cardboard box. The bottom should come off.”

“Wha—?” The captain and I gasped in unison as my hand hovered over the box.

“You think it’s a double bottom?” I asked, glancing at her.

“If my deductions are correct,” she replied with a sly smile, like a detective unraveling a mystery.

Deductions? Was she channeling Sherlock Holmes now? But she was spot-on—the captain’s flustered reaction had just confirmed it.

While everyone stood frozen in confusion, I followed her orders, pulling out the contents one by one. When I reached the bottom, the box was empty but still oddly heavy—a dead giveaway something was hidden beneath.

“W-Wait, hold on a second!” the captain stammered, but it was too late.

I pried open the false bottom, revealing a lacquered box nestled inside. Opening it, I found a set of rectangular tiles neatly arranged.

“Is this… a mahjong set?” Jiro murmured, peering over my shoulder.

Sure enough, it was a full mahjong set, complete with tiles and point sticks. I recognized it instantly, having played with my dad before. They’d probably been using the central table, covered with a mat, as a makeshift game board.

The captain’s face twisted like he’d bitten into a lemon. Some team members stared at the ceiling, their expressions screaming, *“Well, that’s game over.”*

Meanwhile, the student council—except for Minami-san—looked both surprised and a little let down.

“Saiga, is that it? Nothing more incriminating?” Saeki asked, her brow furrowing.

“Nope, that’s all,” I confirmed.

Saeki frowned, and honestly, I felt the same. The team’s level of panic didn’t quite match the discovery of a mahjong set.

“Well, then, I’ll have to inform the coach, Mr. Sato, about these items…” Minami-san began.

“We’ll report it,” Saeki added firmly.

At that, the captain practically leaped into a panic, dropping to his hands and knees in a dramatic bow. “I apologize…!” he cried.

I’d never seen someone pull off a *jump-kneel dogeza* before—it was almost theatrical.

The rest of the student council (minus Minami-san) gaped in shock as, one by one, the baseball team members followed suit, leaping into their own dogezas.

“We’re sorry!” they chorused, their voices echoing through the room.

What was this, the baseball club’s signature apology move? *Jump dogeza*?

“I’m so sorry for all the insults earlier!” the captain pleaded. “I was just desperate to get you out of here… If possible, please overlook this!”

We were floored by their sudden shift in attitude. Only Minami-san remained cool and composed.

“What’s the big deal?” Jiro asked, scratching his head. “It’s just mahjong tiles, right? That’s pretty normal.”

“True, it shouldn’t impact the club’s budget much,” Minami-san explained. “But our report will be reviewed by all faculty members, including Coach Sato.”

The captain’s shoulders twitched at the mention of Sato-sensei.

“So, they’re scared of their coach finding out about the mahjong?” I asked, piecing it together.

“Exactly,” Minami-san said. “Sato-sensei is all about maintaining a healthy mind and body for sports. He’s strict about laziness and messy spaces, but he absolutely despises gambling.”

That explained the room’s spotless condition—Sato-sensei’s iron-fisted policies at work. But if he found out his team was sneaking mahjong games in the clubroom…

No, their over-the-top reaction still felt like it was hiding something bigger.

“Wait a second,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the team. “You guys weren’t betting real money on this, were you?”

“Absolutely not!” the captain shot up, his voice desperate. “It was just, like, buying lunch sometimes!”

“Even if it’s not full-on gambling, that’s still gambling,” Minami-san said calmly, her words cutting through his defense like a knife.

The captain fell silent, utterly deflated.

“Well, isn’t that just too bad for you?” Saeki chimed in, adopting a mockingly prim tone as she laughed triumphantly. “You should thank Minami-san for her sharp insight while you reflect on your actions.”

*Saeki, quit kicking them while they’re down,* I thought.

Minami-san glanced at me—or rather, at the mahjong set in my hands. “Takaaki-kun, please return the mahjong set to the captain.”

“Huh?” Saeki and the captain exclaimed in unison, their confusion mirroring my own.

“You’re giving it back? Not confiscating it?” I asked, stunned.

“Yes,” Minami-san said. “It’s personal property, so I don’t think we should take it.”

“But you’re still reporting the mahjong and gambling, right?” Saeki pressed.

“Nope,” Minami-san replied with a serene smile.

Question marks practically floated above everyone’s heads.

“I’ll simply note that there was one personal item among the club’s equipment,” she explained.

“Wait, hold on—gambling’s a serious issue!” Saeki protested.

“The student council’s job is to inspect club rooms and equipment, not to report what members do with their personal belongings,” Minami-san said, her logic airtight.

I was dumbfounded. What kind of clever wordplay was this?

But then—“…Haha, you’re right. That’s exactly it,” I found myself laughing. Jiro joined in, while Saeki and Hoshino stood there, utterly baffled.

“So, you’re keeping this quiet?” the captain asked timidly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Minami-san nodded. “But don’t bring items like this to school again. If you get caught next time, you’re on your own.”

“Understood! We won’t do it again!” the captain said, bowing repeatedly as I handed him the mahjong set. “Thank you, student council president—we owe you big time!”

*‘Oh man, I thought we were done for!’* his inner thoughts blared. *‘Thank goodness she’s the president this year!’*

“Lucky you, huh?” I said with a smirk, throwing in a bit of sarcasm. “This year’s student council president is pretty great.”

The captain gave a sheepish, bitter smile and fell silent, knowing he’d dodged a major bullet.