A SHIFT OF LOVE CAUSED BY DISTANCE

Early in the morning, both Tokai and Niso Tanaka received voice messages from their partners.

Tokai rubbed his eyes as the voice played. Reen's soft voice chimed through his earpiece. "Today, I'll surprise you. Hope you won't die of shock."

At the same time, Niso blinked at her screen. Hiroshi's message was just as cryptic: "Big surprise today. Try not to faint."

They stared at their phones in silence. Whatever this day had in store, it was already off script.

The auditorium buzzed with anticipation. Students, teachers, and guests filled the grand simulation hall of Tokyo Academy, eyes fixed on the towering digital screen ahead. Hayato Arima, student council president, stood tall at the podium.

"Before we begin the main event," Hayato announced with composure, "we will have a special exhibition match between two of Japan's finest business institutions."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

He continued, "Representing western Japan, we welcome the Kanzei High Institute of Business and Strategy, led by Kawashi Kuro and Hiroshi Tokomota. And from the north, Hoshinawa Financial Academy of Hokkaido, led by Sasha malus and Reen Hashida."

Gasps and hushed voices filled the air.

Tokai's eyes widened. "Reen…?" he murmured. Was this the surprise she was saying this?

Just ahead, Niso tensed. "Kanzei?" she whispered. Her face went pale.

Though neither spoke more, their tension was clear.

The simulation roared to life, transforming the arena into a futuristic economic battlefield—a digitized metropolis on the verge of collapse.

Kanzei Institute focused on macro-economic fundamentals: nationalized banks, heavy industry support and long-term bond stability. It was a fortress of conservative financial logic.

Hoshinawa Academy executed a different vision: agile, high-risk, high-reward stock plays, AI-led market forecasting, rapid acquisition and hostile takeovers.

The two business philosophies crashed like tectonic plates. Markets swung wildly, supply chains split and merged, stock values soared and crashed in waves.

Tokai could see Reen's fingerprints in every daring play.

Niso watched Hiroshi with equal unease. His style reminded her of someone who knew how to build dominance slowly—like her stepfather had tried in life.

Fifteen minutes in, the system glitched. Floating graphs stuttered. Data points lagged.

"Trust Index recalculating," the simulation AI intoned.

The numbers began to fall behind real-time execution.

Hayato frowned. "It's glitching..."

Shiori Onabara leaned forward. "No, they're playing too fast. Their strategies are overwhelming the simulation's economic processor."

On the sidelines, Reiji Kurosawa of Class 4-D observed carefully.

"They're not even business schools," he said. "But they're storming systems."

As Reen launched an aggressive hostile takeover of Hiroshi's energy monopoly, he countered by leveraging international capital sanctions via simulated foreign investors.

The simulation buckled.

"Market volatility exceeds containment threshold," the AI announced. "Declaring technical draw due to parameter breach."

Even Reiji raised an eyebrow.

A draw between such opposite ideologies?

Reen exhaled, and Hiroshi gave her a respectful bow.

Meanwhile, Tokai and Niso sat back in silence. The personal stakes were suddenly clear.

Hayato returned to the stage.

"Now begins the Group Trial Phase of the inter-class tournament."

He gestured, and the screen projected a detailed economic simulation: a fractured city-state in financial disarray, labor unrest, unstable markets, and political upheaval.

"Each team will be tasked with restoring and growing a simulated nation's economy. You must stabilize, lead, and outperform. Metrics to track: Trust, Capital, Authority, and Control."

Class 2-A/B stepped forward:

Tokai: Chief Strategist & Policy Architect

Minato: Systems Integration & Resource Logistics

Mia: Financial Markets & Treasury Oversight

Niso: Legal Advisor & Trade Negotiator

Behind them, Kai and Miyo watched intently.

"You better bankrupt 4-D," Miyo whispered.

"Or at least scare them into selling," Kai added with a grin.

4-D's Aggressive Takeover

At simulation launch, 2-A/B initiated stabilization plans:

Mia deployed emergency liquidity measures.

Minato optimized infrastructure and automated logistics.

Niso formalized trade agreements and charter laws.

Meanwhile, Class 4-D struck hard:

Kaito released a simulated ransomware attack, paralyzing public finance.

Ruth manipulated media to spread investor fear, causing a 30% Trust crash.

Rika issued fake IPOs, triggering a regulatory crisis.

Minato rerouted digital infrastructure to restore services.

Mia intervened with a targeted stimulus package.

Niso responded with legal warfare—suing 4-D's shell companies for fraud.

The court ruled in 2-A/B's favor. Control points shifted back. Authority stabilized.

Tokai watched without flinching.

"Let them try to kill the economy," he said. "We'll build a system that can't be shaken."

By the thirty-fifth minute, transactions and simulations outpaced the system causing an overload.

Data flickered.

Trust meters looped.

Currency conversion rates auto-crashed

"System instability—inputs exceeding capacity," the AI warned.

Hayato murmured, "It's breaking down."

Shiori studied the code. "They're using recursive financial loops—cross-border simulations, crypto-trading, AI-hedge fund logic. The sim was never built for this."

Reiji's final gambit the Merger Clause, a simulated law allowing him to consolidate and privatize all national industries into a single controlling conglomerate.

If successful, Class 4-D would instantly gain 51% Control.

The simulation paused to verify legality.

Tokai's eyes narrowed. "Now."

He and Niso triggered a command,Protocol 11.

Weeks earlier, Tokai and Niso had quietly added Protocol 11—an override buried deep in simulation law. It nullified any privatization during civil unrest and pending litigation.

Conditions were met. Trust below 60%. Open lawsuits active.

"Merger Clause blocked. Control remains divided."

The simulation glitched violently. Color bars exploded across the sky.

Reiji stood motionless.

Giyusiah Kaseki laughed as he watched from the judge's terminal.

"He laid the trap from the start. Classic long play."

The final moments approached.

Control: 49.2%…

Capital: 870B → 643B → 715B

Trust: 61%… then 59.9%

Suddenly—

The scoreboard froze.

"Final metrics compromised. Technical audit initiated. Verdict pending."

Silence.

No applause. No celebration.

Cut to black.

The academy crest faded in. Lights returned.

Simulation pods unlatched.

Tokai removed his visor, locking eyes with Reiji.

No words. Only a nod.

Reiji turned and walked away.

Niso exhaled. "That was war."

Mia flexed her fingers. "We held the line."

Minato laughed. "We made them sweat."

Kai and Miyo ran down.

"You bankrupted their confidence," Miyo teased.

"That's a fiscal victory," Kai joked.

From the booth, Hayato's voice rang out.

"All teams, report to strategy chamber in one hour. Post-match audit underway."

He paused.

Then smiled at Tokai.

"Well played."

The lights dimmed in the Tokyo Academy auditorium once more. Students from every class filled the seats, murmuring with anticipation. Teachers, business mentors, and academy sponsors occupied the upper balconies.

The massive screen above the stage flashed to life with a crest: "Inter-Class Business Trial Final Results".

Hayato Arima, composed as ever, stepped forward to the podium.

"After a full audit and simulation integrity review," he began, "the results of this year's group business trials have been verified."

A hush fell over the crowd.

"Class 2-A and Class 2-B are officially declared winners of the Inter-Class Business Simulation Trials."

Gasps. Then scattered clapping. Then a surge of cheers.

Kai and Miyo jumped from their seats, fists pumping the air.

"But it wasn't just performance that decided the result," Hayato continued. "The key to victory was a strategic law embedded deep within the simulation—one that changed the tide."

The screen behind him shifted to a document header: Protocol 11: Civil Override Clause.

"Protocol 11 was a legal trigger created by Class 2-A's strategist Tokai Lad and legal advisor Niso Tanaka. The clause nullified any national privatization during civil unrest and pending litigation."

He paused.

"When Class 4-D attempted to merge and seize all national industries, Protocol 11 activated. The merger was blocked. Control remained divided."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"They didn't just play the game," Hayato said. "They anticipated a system-level move and prepared a counter long before the trial began."

The camera zoomed in on Tokai, Minato, Mia, and Niso seated in the front row. They didn't wave. They just sat quietly, letting the weight of their win settle in.

From across the room, Reiji Kurosawa stood silently with his team from 4-D. No bitterness. Just the quiet, calculating eyes of someone who understood they'd been outmaneuvered.

Hayato's voice rang clear:

"The victory of Class 2-A and B will stand not just as a record, but as a turning point in Tokyo Academy history. Protocol 11 is now a legal precedent in future simulations."

The auditorium erupted again—cheers, applause, stunned gasps.

Niso blinked rapidly. "We really did it."

Mia just grinned. "Bet the third-years didn't see that coming."

Minato leaned forward. "We didn't just beat them."

Tokai finished the sentence: "We rewrote the economy."

The crowd slowly dispersed from the auditorium, but the victors remained seated—still taking it all in.

Minato turned to Mia and opened his arms without a word. She gave a small smile and leaned into the hug. Neither said anything.

They didn't need to.

It was a moment of quiet pride. Of relief. Of knowing they'd stood their ground.

But the moment passed, and they let go—two warriors acknowledging the battle they just survived.

A few seats down, Niso sat still, her hands trembling slightly. Tokai noticed, stood, and walked over without a word. She looked up at him—startled at first—then melted into his arms.

He didn't say anything either.

The hug lingered.

There was nothing romantic about it.

Just two souls who had carried too much... finally allowed to rest.

And in both their minds, the same thought formed:

It's been a long time since I felt this warmth from someone.

Niso closed her eyes for just a second longer.

Tokai didn't move. Didn't flinch.

Then—

"YOOOOO!" came a shout from behind them.

"Lovebirds on Wall Street!" Kai grinned, jumping over the row of chairs like a child let loose.

Miyo came right after, laughing. "You two trying to start a merger of your own?"

Niso jerked back, red in the face.

Tokai sighed and scratched his head. "They're like children."

Miyo threw her arms around Niso. "Legal queen! You sued a simulation into submission!"

Kai elbowed Tokai. "You glitched a nation, man. A whole economy. What are you made of?"

The four of them stood in the aftermath, tired, triumphant—and for once, truly together.

No words left.

Just the quiet warmth of shared victory.

From the observation deck high above the auditorium, Hayato Arima stood beside Shiori Onabara, arms folded, gaze fixed on the team below.

The second-years were laughing now—unburdened, even if only for a moment.

"They didn't just win," Shiori said softly. "They rewrote the system."

Hayato didn't respond immediately. His expression remained unreadable.

"Protocol 11," he murmured. "No loophole. No brute force. Just... patience."

Shiori glanced at him. "That was your line to Reiji once, wasn't it?"

A rare smile tugged at Hayato's lips.

"It was. He didn't listen."

They watched in silence as Niso and Tokai exchanged one final nod, and Kai lifted Mia in the air like a trophy.

Hayato finally turned to leave.

"They're not ready yet," he said, "but they're closer than we were at their age."

"And Tokai?" Shiori asked.

Hayato paused at the door.

"He's not me," he said. "He's something else entirely."

He turned slightly, smirking just a little before walking off.

Hayato (over his shoulder):

"Make sure you make the basketball team Tokai. There's someone there waiting for you."

Shiori's brows rose, in her mind." Is it Geland Mate.?"