“I
don't care if you'll have problems later. Nakagawa promised he'd
cover your back and now you'd better man up!”
“Why
do you always trust the old goat?” Urufu was visibly sulking.
Noriko
didn't care. She didn't even long for him any longer and that reduced
him to a useful tool. The most important tool on two legs on the
school grounds. “Shut up and make it work! If you want me in your
fan club you'd damn better deserve it.”
The
student council treasurer sat across the desks and watched them with
stunned incomprehension.
“You
certain you can't provide the funding?” Urufu asked him again.
Another poor attempt at crawling out of the trap Noriko just sprung
on him.
The
treasurer finally found air enough to speak. “Three million yen?
Are you crazy? Where the hell do you expect me to get that kind of
money on short notice?”
“Fuck!”
Urufu said.
“Language!”
Noriko said and glared at him. She needed him to back down. “Look,
you can dock my pay if it doesn't work out,” she suggested, and
with that Urufu's secret was out in the open.
“Screw
you!”
Thank
all gods I mostly fell out of love with you earlier! That wasn't
entirely true, but most of her feelings lay elsewhere now. “Thank
you but no thank you. Nao maybe, but it's too early yet.” I'm
unfair, but it can't be helped. You'd work me over the same way.
“Make it happen!”
What
she demanded of Urufu was beyond the pale, and she'd have what she
needed or she'd see the festival crumble within a few hours. She
locked eyes with him.
“Bah!
No wonder I pay you two the most,” he said and admitted defeat.
“Pay?”
the council treasurer said from his chair.
“Shut
up!” both Noriko and Urufu said in unison.
“Fine!
Get me someone with a motorcycle and an extra helmet. I'll need
coordinates as well.”
Noriko
sank back in her seat. She'd apologise later. “I love you, you
know. Not the way I love Nao, but still. I'll get your ride.” She
would. One of the thugs in 9:1 rode one.
She
wasn't supposed to know, but he adored everything Wakayama from the
moment they stood their ground against the bullying at Red Rose Hell.
Since last night Urufu was included in his hero worship, because
Noriko told him why Urufu was expelled.
“What's
going on?” the treasurer asked and broke Noriko's memories.
She
threw him a dark look. “If the student council can't fund the
cultural festival Hamarugen-sama will do so in your stead.” Urufu
deserved that much at least. She forced him to put his company on the
line based on pure speculation. In return she could at least refer to
him with the utmost respect.
She
dug up her smart phone and dialled a number. The call took less than
twenty seconds. On pure speculation, but you knew you could fund
it if things went south, didn't you? Four cars with students
unable to pay for the supplies they were ordered to buy had already
hit the road. Urufu has some serious catching up to do, and she hoped
the thug knew his bike.
“Big
words coming from you. Where the hell did you arrive at three million
yen?” It seemed the treasurer didn't intend to give up.
“You
really don't know?” You can't be that clueless, can you?
“Know
what?”
He
could, and when she thought about it maybe clueless was too harsh.
“Our friend, Ageruman-san,” she chose the polite reference,
because he probably wouldn't know who Kuri was, “is a part time
model.”
“And?”
Noriko
turned her computer to him so he could watch the videos. Kuri's face
was plastered to every major billboard around Tokyo since the day
before.
Noriko
hardly listened to Urufu leaving the room. Instead she slammed both
hands to her desk. “Now listen closely. Best case, absolutely best
case, we estimate five thousand guests here tomorrow.”
He
stared back at her with his face pale and lifeless. The numbers
simply didn't agree with him. She could as well kill any remaining
hopes of understanding he had.
“Worst
case we'll have upwards to twenty thousand people trying to get in.
There's no way in hell we can handle that.”
“Where
did you get those numbers,” he asked and repeated his prior
question in a new way.
She
couldn't tell him. Those weren't merely estimates from their friend
Kuri; those were from the billion dollar empress. Noriko had
absolutely no reason to doubt over thirty years' worth of
professional experience from the fashion industry, but she couldn't
tell him. Sixteen year old girls didn't have that kind of experience.
“It's
a wild guess,” she lied and tried to make it sound like she
admitted that she had no clue. Twelve to fifteen thousand, unless
something unexpected happens, Kuri had said. Eight thousand and not a
soul more, Urufu had responded when asked about how many guests the
school could handle with the help of a shoehorn.
We're
so screwed! She growled and when the treasurer winced she shook
her hands. She wasn't angry with him. She had forced Urufu to empty
his accounts, but that only covered supplies for five thousand
guests.
I'll
bleed Kuri dry as well and it still won't be enough. She already
had. One million yen, Kuri's entire fortune, transferred to Urufu
half an hour earlier. He didn't know yet. He also didn't know she
held lingering feelings for him despite going out with Nao. Enough to
join him in the madness.
“Excuse
me, I need to make a call.” Noriko rose and left the room.
In
the corridor outside she dialled another contact and waited for the
answer.
“Dad,
I need access to my university funds.”
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