Information Warfare
2:30 p.m. The Student Council President’s Office, Tōto Commerce Academy.
“It is not a system error.”
Vice President Kamiya’s voice held its customary calm, yet a faint perspiration had appeared on his brow. In his hands he gripped a thick sheaf of urgent-investigation results.
“A ‘division-by-zero error’ has been generated in the calculation of Shironami Riko-san’s LVT. This is because the Love Correlation Index R²L returned a value that is mathematically undefined.”
President Hashimoto Rin frowned. “Undefined? What do you mean?”
“Normally, the Love Correlation Index takes a value between zero and one,” Vice President Kamiya explained. “Zero indicates complete independence; one indicates perfect correlation. However, when we computed the relationship between Riko-san and Tenga-kun, the figure showed ‘infinity’ — or ‘undefined.’”
A heavy silence filled the president’s office.
“In other words,” President Hashimoto confirmed, “you’re saying their relationship cannot be explained by existing theory?”
“That is correct. The first such case since our academy’s Emotion Analyzer system was introduced.”
At that moment, there was a knock at the office door.
“Permission to enter.”
The door opened, and Saionji Reika came in with her customary grace. However, her usual composure was absent from her expression. Her blue eyes held unmistakable anxiety.
“Thank you for your time, President Hashimoto,” Reika said, bowing politely. “I have an urgent matter I wished to discuss.”
“Saionji-san? Please, sit down.”
Reika sat, then placed the tablet she was carrying on the president’s desk.
“I have obtained some interesting information regarding Kurose Tenga’s ‘past.’”
On the screen a newspaper article screenshot was displayed.
【Osaka Central Economic News, March 15, 2024】 Small Business Failure Leaves Family Vanishing Overnight — Tighter Loan Recovery Hits Micro-Enterprises — “Kurose Industries” Director Kurose Ken’ichi (then 45) and family confirmed missing
President Hashimoto and Vice President Kamiya drew breath at the same moment.
“This is…”
“Kurose Tenga-kun’s father,” Reika’s voice was ice-cold. “A bankruptcy caused by unrecoverable loans. Total liabilities: 230 million yen. The family fled Osaka and their subsequent whereabouts are unknown.”
Reika swiped the tablet’s screen. A new image appeared.
【Weekly Business Tōyō, April 2, 2024 Issue】 The Other Side of Small-Business Attrition — The Cutting-off of the Weak in the Name of ‘Efficiency’ — Expert: “An inevitable outcome brought about by emotionally-driven lending decisions”
“According to the article,” Reika went on, “the failure of Kurose Industries was attributed to ‘inefficient management’ and ‘emotionally-driven business relationships.’ In other words, Tenga-kun is—”
Reika’s blue eyes cast a dangerous light.
“Acting with a complete understanding of our academy’s system, in order to destroy the existing order.”
＊
3:15 p.m. The Rank E Exclusive Cafeteria, Basement Level 1.
Tenga was eating a simple lunch alone, checking market data on the tablet in his hand. Since meeting Riko, something had begun to shift within him. It was an unstable wave of emotion that could not be explained by calculation.
Why is it, Tenga thought inwardly, that when I talk to her, all my theories lose their meaning? As if…
“Tenga-san.”
He turned. Takamura Yuki was running toward him, excitement on her face. On the tablet she held, emergency news was displayed.
“This is bad — Saionji Reika has made her move!” Yuki’s Osaka accent was even thicker with excitement. “Rumor has it she’s dug up Tenga-san’s past and reported it to the student council!”
Tenga’s hand paused, briefly. But his expression remained as composed as ever.
“Within the range of prediction,” Tenga answered. “Reika will try to crush me with ‘information warfare.’ It’s the tactic she’s most skilled at.”
“But your family and all that…” Yuki’s voice grew worried. “If she exposes something that personal…”
“It’s convenient, if anything,” Tenga said, a thin smile appearing. “She has made a fatal mistake.”
Yuki was puzzled. “Mistake?”
Tenga stood and looked down at the school grounds through the cafeteria window. There students could be seen spending their lunch break — but the atmosphere was clearly different from the day before. Students of different ranks kept a wary distance from each other.
“The greatest risk in an emotional market is ‘reputation risk,’” Tenga began to explain. “However, it is also a double-edged sword. The attacker is exposed to the same risk.”
Tenga worked his tablet, and a new screen appeared.
【Counter-Strategy: Reputation Arbitrage】
Phase 1: Establishing the Victim Position
- By receiving the opponent’s attack, earn sympathy as the ‘underdog’
- Frame the attacker as ‘the strong bullying the weak’
- Media strategy: expanding grassroots support
Phase 2: Reframing the Information
- Convert negative information into a positive context
- Build the narrative of ‘rising from adversity’
- Project a relatable human quality
Phase 3: Establishing Moral Superiority
- Denounce the opponent’s attack methods as ‘unethical’
- Position oneself as a ‘reformer’
- Strengthen the cohesion of supporters
“By exposing my past, Reika is trying to gain a short-term advantage,” Tenga’s golden eyes glinted sharply. “However, that will give me a ‘story.’ And the most valuable commodity in an emotional market is a ‘story people can identify with.’”
Yuki’s eyes went wide. “In other words, Tenga-san, you predicted from the start that Reika-san would investigate your past…”
“I expected it,” Tenga nodded. “Her behavioral pattern is extremely predictable. As the daughter of a financial dynasty, she knows no method other than subduing opponents with ‘information’ and ‘power.’”
Tenga sat again and opened a new file on his tablet.
【Saionji Reika — Weakness Analysis Report】
Personality Vulnerabilities:
- Excessive pressure from perfectionism
- Abnormal fear of failure
- Absence of any genuine friendships
Social Vulnerabilities:
- Position dependent on the family name
- Instability of ‘borrowed authority’
- Disconnection from popular sentiment
Strategic Vulnerabilities:
- Excessive dependence on past successes
- Insufficient adaptability to new tactics
- Strategy collapsing under emotional judgment
“Reika’s greatest weakness is ‘fear,’” Tenga continued. “She fears defeat more than anything. So she becomes overly aggressive and, as a result, tightens the noose around her own neck.”
Just then an emergency announcement rang out in the cafeteria.
“Attention, all students. At 4:00 p.m. today, Saionji Reika-san will hold an ‘Emergency Press Conference’ in the main auditorium. Note that this conference will be open to media from outside the academy.”
Yuki’s face went pale. “A press conference? Something so large-scale…”
“So it has begun,” Tenga murmured. “Her ‘total war.’”
＊
4:00 p.m. The Main Auditorium, Tōto Commerce Academy.
The auditorium had been packed not only with all 1,247 students but with a number of media representatives. Television cameras, newspaper reporters, weekly-magazine writers — the academy’s love market had already attracted attention as a social phenomenon, and the present commotion had heightened that interest further still.
On the platform stood Saionji Reika, turned out as flawlessly as a film actress. In a designer suit, with diamond accessories blazing in the lights. Her appearance was that of a modern aristocrat in the literal sense.
“Thank you for giving me your valuable time today,” Reika’s voice rang through the auditorium via the microphone. “I, Saionji Reika, first of Rank A at Tōto Commerce Academy, have determined that I must convey important facts regarding the market disturbance that has recently occurred.”
Around Reika were arrayed the key members of the Saionji faction. The effect was like a board meeting of a financial conglomerate.
“There are facts about the individual known as Kurose Tenga-kun that I must bring to your attention.”
The newspaper article was magnified on the large screen. The auditorium stirred.
“Kurose-kun’s father is, one might say, a ‘person whose social credit has collapsed’ — having abandoned his creditors and fled overnight, leaving debts of 230 million yen from his business failure.” Reika’s voice seemed to recount plain facts, yet it clearly carried a tone of condemnation.
“And Kurose-kun himself engaged in ‘problematic conduct’ at multiple schools before transferring to this one.”
New images appeared. They were Tenga’s transcripts from his previous school, along with disciplinary records.
“‘Criticizes emotional judgment and rejects relationships with classmates.’ ‘Refuses to follow teacher guidance, insisting on his own theories.’ ‘Lacking in social cooperation, refuses group activities.’ — This is the true face of Kurose Tenga-kun.”
The air of the auditorium grew heavy. The media representatives all began taking notes at once.
“Our Tōto Commerce Academy aims to foster a ‘sound love market,’” Reika continued. “But an individual of ‘antisocial thinking’ like Kurose-kun is attempting to destroy this sacred institution.”
Reika’s blue eyes fixed on the back of the auditorium — the spot where Tenga sat.
“In the name of the Saionji family’s honor, I declare,” Reika’s voice grew more powerful. “That I will resolutely prevent the dangerous ideology and conduct of Kurose Tenga-kun.”
And Reika raised her right hand high.
“From this day, I am initiating a ‘short-sale’ against Kurose Tenga-kun. I will fight until his love value reaches zero.”
The auditorium erupted. An open declaration of war by the Rank A valedictorian. It was an event without precedent in the academy’s history.
At that moment, quiet applause echoed from the back of the auditorium.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Everyone turned. Kurose Tenga was on his feet, applauding slowly. His expression was that of an audience member who had just witnessed a wonderful performance — filled with genuine admiration.
“A magnificent presentation,” Tenga’s voice rang from the back to the front of the auditorium with remarkable clarity. “As expected of the daughter of the Saionji conglomerate. I have had the privilege of witnessing a masterclass in ‘information strategy.’”
Reika’s expression twisted, just slightly. Tenga’s reaction was clearly not what she had anticipated.
Tenga walked up the aisle toward the front. His gait had the calculated elegance of a stage actor making an entrance.
“However, I have one question.” Tenga looked up at Reika on the platform. “Where did you obtain your ‘information’?”
Reika hesitated. “That was through legitimate investigation…”
“Legitimate?” A thin smile appeared at Tenga’s mouth. “Do you believe there exists a ‘legitimate method’ by which a student at a private school can access the financial records of another student’s family, or transcripts from a previous school?”
The auditorium murmured. Tenga’s point was valid.
“In other words,” Tenga’s voice became clearer still. “You used the ‘power of the Saionji family’ to engage in an act of information-gathering that likely violates the Personal Information Protection Act — is that correct?”
“That is…” Reika’s voice caught for a moment.
But she recovered her perfect smile at once. The daughter of a financial dynasty — her ability to handle a crisis was extraordinary.
“My, my,” Reika laughed gracefully. “You are quite well acquainted with the law, Kurose-kun. You sound rather as though you have ‘something to hide.’”
Reika’s riposte was elegant. She turned Tenga’s point back against him — converting the impression that ‘invoking the law means you have something to conceal.’
“However,” Reika continued, “if you have doubts about my sources, please look at this.”
New images appeared on the large screen. They were the bankruptcy declaration documents for Tenga’s father, Kurose Ken’ichi.
“All of these are ‘publicly available’ documents at the Legal Affairs Bureau. Not one item contravenes the Personal Information Protection Act.”
The atmosphere in the auditorium shifted. The representatives of the media wore expressions of admiration at Reika’s thorough preparation.
Tenga’s expression stiffened, slightly. Even he had not anticipated that Reika would have prepared this meticulously.
“Furthermore,” triumph entered Reika’s voice, “the records from Kurose-kun’s previous school were also obtained through a formal ‘reference procedure.’ It is a completely lawful investigation conducted as part of the ‘talent scouting’ activities of the Saionji Group’s Education Division.”
Reika looked down at Tenga with a smile. There was a cruelty in that smile — the cruelty of showing an overwhelming disparity of power.
“In other words, Kurose-kun.” Reika’s voice turned cold. “You have challenged the ‘Saionji Group’ — a corporate group with an annual turnover of two trillion yen — to battle. Let me make you feel, personally, the difference in strength between an ‘individual’ and a ‘corporation.’”
The auditorium fell silent. An overwhelming disparity. No matter how gifted an individual, he could not stand against the organizational power of a massive corporate group — that was common sense.
But Tenga was smiling.
“I see,” Tenga said, and for the first time something resembling a real emotion entered his voice — a dangerous resonance of excitement and pleasure mingled together. “So you’ve issued me a ‘declaration of war.’”
Tenga made to ascend the platform. But the male students of the Saionji faction blocked his path.
“Stand down,” Tadokoro Shinichirō said, in an intimidating tone. “A low-class creature like you will not be permitted to approach Reika-sama.”
Tenga looked up at Tadokoro. In that instant Tadokoro’s face went pale. In Tenga’s golden eyes there dwelt a dangerous light like that of a wild beast.
“Move.”
A single word from Tenga. But his voice carried an authority that brooked no argument. Tadokoro stepped aside without thinking.
Tenga mounted the platform and stood directly before Reika. The distance between them was no more than fifty centimeters.
“Saionji Reika.” Tenga’s voice was low and quiet. “You have made a decisive error.”
“An error?” Reika tilted her head. Her expression still held composure.
“You recognized me as your ‘enemy,’” Tenga’s golden eyes pierced Reika’s blue ones. “Up to that point, I was nothing more than an ‘eccentric.’ But the moment you issued your declaration of war, I became a ‘revolutionary.’”
Tenga turned and swept his eyes over the students in the auditorium.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tenga’s voice resounded through the hall. “You are witnessing a historic moment. ‘Vested interests’ versus ‘meritocracy’ — the opening of a war that will divide this academy.”
Tenga turned back to Reika.
“You exposed my past. Yes — my father’s business failed, and our family fell apart.” A human pain entered Tenga’s voice for the first time. “But that is not ‘shame.’ That is ‘reality.’”
Tenga began to address the students in the auditorium.
“Is there anyone in this hall who has never failed? Those who confessed their feelings and were turned down. Those who failed an exam. Those who were betrayed by a friend. Is there really anyone here who has never had such a ‘human experience’?”
The air of the auditorium began to change. Tenga’s words were reaching the students’ hearts.
“Reika called me a ‘problem student.’ And that is perfectly true.” A self-deprecating smile appeared at Tenga’s mouth. “I have no ‘social cooperation.’ I criticize ‘emotional judgment.’ I do not comply with ‘authority.’”
Tenga’s voice grew more powerful.
“But that is because I ‘think for myself.’ Because I question the ‘common sense’ I’ve been given, and keep asking ‘why.’”
Tenga looked at Reika.
“You Rank A students were ‘winners from the moment of your birth.’ You have no need to climb from the bottom by effort, and you never confront the contradictions of the system. Which is why you fear ‘change.’”
Reika’s expression showed a flicker of unease.
“However,” Tenga’s voice filled the entire hall. “True value is born precisely in ‘adversity.’ Just as diamonds are formed under ‘pressure,’ a human being’s true worth is tested by ‘hardship.’”
Tenga raised his right hand high.
“From this day, I am commencing a ‘hostile acquisition’ against Saionji Reika and the Saionji Group.”
The auditorium erupted.
“However,” Tenga’s voice called the hall back to silence. “My weapons are neither ‘power’ nor ‘money.’ They are ‘truth’ and ‘logic.’”
Tenga took out his tablet and worked the screen. New data appeared on the large display.
【Saionji Group — Financial Analysis】
Consolidated Revenue：2,124.7 billion yen Net Income：124.7 billion yen ROE (Return on Equity)：8.2% Debt Ratio：67.3% Current Ratio：89.4% (in the danger zone, below 100%) Credit Rating：A- (downgraded one notch from last year)
“The financial position of the Saionji Group is by no means rock-solid,” Tenga’s voice took on the expertise of a stock analyst presenting to investors. “A debt ratio of 67.3%, a current ratio of 89.4% — these figures cannot be described as ‘sound management.’”
Reika’s face went pale. These figures were supposed to be internal information, not available to the public.
“Furthermore,” Tenga went on. “The main business of the Saionji Group — its general trading division — has recorded a major deterioration in earnings under the recent wave of digitization. Its ‘traditional relationship-based sales approach,’ in particular, can only be described as an outdated method no longer suited to the times.”
Tenga’s analysis was precise and merciless. He dismantled the weaknesses of the Saionji Group with the precision of a corporate surgeon.
“In other words,” Tenga looked at Reika. “Your ‘power’ is already entering its twilight. The age is shifting from ‘hereditary succession’ to ‘meritocracy.’”
At that moment, a voice rose from one corner of the auditorium.
“Tenga-san!”
Mizuno Haruka had risen to her feet. Around her, the Rank E students were clustering.
“We support Tenga-san!” Haruka’s voice trembled, but it was full of conviction.
“That’s right!” “Tenga-san is correct!” “Let’s make this an academy where hard work is rewarded!”
The Rank E students began to rise, one after another. It was like the beginning of a quiet revolution.
But Reika was not flustered. She smiled gracefully and operated a special terminal she had in her hand.
“My, my,” Reika’s voice rang through the auditorium. “Kurose-kun’s speech was certainly passionate. But reality, I’m afraid, is not changed by ‘emotion.’”
A new screen appeared on the large display.
【Emergency Market Intervention Executed】 Bulk purchase order from the Saionji Group Special Fund
Transaction Amount：equivalent to 50 billion yen Target：premium stocks across the board Effect：stabilization of the market as a whole
“This is ‘true power,’” Reika’s voice recovered its overwhelming confidence. “No matter how many theories Kurose-kun puts forward, before ‘capital’ they are powerless.”
On the screen, market data was updating in real time. Under the Saionji Group’s massive injection of funds, the Love Value Index could be seen recovering sharply.
【Love Value Index (LVI) — Emergency Bulletin】 4:15 p.m.：2,489.2 4:20 p.m.：2,687.4 ▲198.2 (+8.0%) 4:25 p.m.：2,891.7 ▲402.5 (+16.2%) 4:30 p.m.：3,156.8 ▲667.6 (+26.8%)
“The market does not lie,” Reika said, a smile of victory on her face. “One can see very clearly where the true ‘value’ lies.”
The air of the auditorium grew heavy once more. An overwhelming difference in financial power. It was a reality that no theory, no logic, could overturn.
Tenga looked at the numbers in silence. And then, presently, he gave a small laugh.
“Interesting,” Tenga’s voice reverted to a cold, calculating tone quite unlike the passionate one of moments before. “You’ve given me a ‘lesson.’”
“A lesson?”
“The nature of ‘capitalism,’” Tenga’s golden eyes gleamed dangerously. “Thank you, Reika. Thanks to you, I no longer need to hold back.”
Tenga turned and looked out over the students in the auditorium.
“Ladies and gentlemen — this is reality,” Tenga’s voice blazed with the warmth of a revolutionary addressing the people. “‘Power’ trumps ‘justice.’ ‘Money’ masks ‘truth.’ This is the state of the world in which you live.”
Tenga turned back to Reika.
“However, there is one thing you have forgotten.”
“And what is that?”
A smile appeared at Tenga’s mouth unlike anything anyone had seen from him before. It was not anger, not hatred — an expression pure with genuine excitement.
“‘Markets’ always, inevitably, experience ‘collapse.’”
At that moment, a new voice rang from the back of the auditorium.
“Thank you for your efforts.”
Everyone turned. There stood Shironami Riko, quiet and still. But her expression was different from her usual serenity — a look full of firm, resolute will.
“Riko-san?” President Hashimoto was confused.
Riko walked forward along the aisle. As she passed, the auditorium’s air shifted again — like a single shaft of light breaking through a storm.
“Saionji-san, Kurose-san,” Riko addressed them both. “Haven’t the two of you forgotten something important?”
Reika and Tenga both looked at Riko at the same moment.
“This academy is a place to learn about love,” Riko’s voice was gentle, yet her words carried a weight that no one could argue with. “It is not a place to make war.”
Riko mounted the platform. At that instant, the entire auditorium fell into an inexplicable silence.
“Kurose-san,” Riko looked at Tenga. “Your theory is certainly superior. But it is not ‘love.’ It is a ‘game.’”
Tenga’s expression showed a faint disturbance.
“And Saionji-san,” Riko turned to Reika. “Your power is certainly enormous. But it is not ‘love.’ It is ‘domination.’”
Reika, too, was at a loss for words.
Riko stood between the two of them and spread her hands wide.
“Real love is neither theory nor power,” Riko’s voice filled the whole auditorium. “It is ‘trust.’ It is ‘compassion.’ It is ‘the wish for the other person’s happiness.’”
And Riko smiled. That smile radiated a warmth that seemed capable of melting every conflict in the room.
“I know the ‘true selves’ of you both,” Riko went on. “Kurose-san is, truly, the person who wants ‘love’ more than anyone. Saionji-san is, truly, the person who values ‘friendship’ more than anyone.”
Tenga and Reika drew breath at the same moment.
“So,” Riko held out both hands. “Won’t you stop fighting?”
In that instant, an anomaly struck the auditorium’s systems.
The large screen began to flicker, and a warning tone rang out.
【SYSTEM ERROR】 Love Correlation Index — computation impossible Shironami Riko — Multiple measurement targets — R²L value：∞ Emergency shutdown executing…
The screen went dark.
Then silence.
4:45 p.m.
What remained in the auditorium was 1,247 students — and a single girl.
Riko still held out both hands, and she was smiling, gently.
＊ ＊ ＊