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Sakuramoria

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#2939
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Looking with disgust at the excited schoolchildren chattering as they headed towards the event, which was essentially a discarded scrap of something supposedly representing one of the facets of democracy, Futaba silently wished them the strength to cope with the near future. The average child, whose typical life choices involved selecting a clean pair of socks, probably felt like a grown-up, responsible citizen participating in their own and the collective destiny. They likely didn't realize that the so-called choice offered to them by the oppressive class wasn't their inherent natural right or an event that could actually influence anything, but merely a bone or a stick thrown to a dog to watch it, drooling, chase after it and, with a subservient look, bring it back to its owner – "Praise me." A minute later, the owner, at their own whim, takes the stick, beats the dog with it, and then shoves it up its rear end. And if, before the events of the last few weeks, some hope for positive change could still flicker on the edge of consciousness, then afterward, it became crystal clear that what was happening was a farce, one of the faces of the overall scheme of enslavement and mockery of the students. If it were possible, Futaba would have liked to withdraw both her own candidacy and the candidacy of everyone else. It was perfectly clear that the position of student president put its unsuspecting victim in harm's way, preparing them to become a controllable pawn in the interests of the bandits who had enslaved them. In this regard, in a position that promised only suffering, she couldn't imagine anyone other than herself, but she understood that her vulnerable position, coupled with the burden of the chains of the office and some nominally pseudo-expanded powers, opened up a wide range of new opportunities for abuse by the powerful maniacs. The only remaining option, besides the meaningless "against all" option, was to choose the strongest personality among those remaining, with a strong sense of self and mental health, capable of resisting, to some extent, the arbitrary whims of the scoundrels from the teaching staff and other groups. The only candidate who could be described in this way was Gideon. He was reserved, laconic, and sometimes expressed agreement and obedience to the ideas of the teaching staff. But at the same time, it was obvious that, without being a public rebel, he had a strong core and possessed his own clear opinion on the surrounding events. If anyone could withstand this storm of chaotic, monstrous events with the least amount of loss for themselves and others, it was him, Futaba decided, marking the corresponding option on the ballot.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.