▣ KO-FI ▣ DISCORD ▣
Chapter 7 : The Emergence of Antagonists – Is This a Trap?
After the Miss Muse announcement event, the four of us (myself, Touko-senpai, Kazumi-san, and Ishida. Minasan and Manamisan had other commitments) gathered at a family restaurant a little away from the university.
“Who would have thought it would turn out like this…” Touko-senpai said wearily, followed by Kazumi-san.
“Right. We thought it was all over today, but then they start talking about ‘deciding who’s number one.'”
“Sorry, everyone. It’s my fault this has dragged on even further.”
Touko-senpai apologized, bowing her head in remorse.
“No, this isn’t Touko’s fault,” Kazumi-san firmly stated.
“The organizers’ announcement today was clearly sudden. It might have been planned all along by the organizers, but it was a complete surprise to all participants, wasn’t it?”
However, I tilted my head at Kazumi-san’s opinion.
“Did everyone really not know?”
“What do you mean, Itsuki-kun?”
“When the host announced about ‘deciding the representative’…”
I looked around at everyone’s faces.
“True, almost everyone on stage looked surprised. But Rin-dou-san and Karen alone seemed calm, as if they had known about it beforehand.”
“Is that so?” Kazumi-san confirmed.
“Of course, I couldn’t see clearly from a distance, but that’s how it appeared to me.”
Hearing this, Touko-senpai seemed to ponder something.
“Touko, do you have any inkling about this?”
“I was surprised by the announcement about ‘deciding the representative,’ so I wasn’t watching properly, but…”
Touko-senpai looked at me, then turned her gaze to Kazumi-san.
“At that time, I felt like Rin-dou-san slightly smiled.”
“Rin-dou Akane smiled?” Kazumi-san and I both exclaimed.
“As I said earlier, I’m not certain, but for a moment, it seemed like her mouth relaxed.”
“And what about Karen?” I asked.
Touko-senpai shook her head.
“I don’t know about Karen-san. Rin-dou-san just happened to be standing in a position where she was in my line of sight next to the host.”
I see. On stage, the order was Karen, Touko-senpai, then Rin-dou Akane, with the host standing a bit away. In this arrangement, it’s natural not to notice Karen’s reaction.
“Hmm,” everyone pondered in unison.
After a while, Ishida spoke up.
“Regarding that point, there’s no use thinking about it any further, right? What matters now is how to survive the upcoming representative battle.”
I agreed with his opinion.
“Right. Ishida’s correct. We need to think about what to do for the representative battle after Golden Week.”
Kazumi-san looked at Touko-senpai.
“I think so too… but what about you, Touko? Are you still willing to go on? If you dislike it, it’s okay to withdraw from the representative battle. You’ve already achieved the club’s goal by being selected as Miss Muse.”
Touko-senpai pondered for a while, but eventually raised her head and stated firmly.
“Well, I don’t like that the goalpost suddenly moved, and that we were danced around by the organizers, but I don’t want to show a fleeing attitude after coming this far. Let’s give it our all until the end.”
“That’s the spirit, Touko-senpai!”
Ishida said cheerfully, and I felt the same way.
“Then, I’ll look into what to do for the representative battle. All we know now is that ‘half of the points come from public voting’ and ‘the other half from the judges’ evaluation.'”
“I’ll also check with the student council, as the club president. We should find out the official details that way.”
“What should I do?” Ishida asked.
To his question, I had a request.
“Ishida, I have something to discuss with you. I want you to help me investigate a point that concerns me.”
“What’s that?” Kazumi-san asked.
“I’ll explain once we have a clearer picture.”
“Okay,” Kazumi-san said, accepting without further questions.
“Let’s tell the rest of the club members. The Miss Muse activity is going into extra innings, but let’s keep working together!”
“Ooh!” we all responded in unison.
“So, our battle has entered the second round.”
“Isshiki-kun, do you have a moment?”
As we left the family restaurant, Touko-senpai approached me.
“Ah, yes. That’s fine.”
I was a bit surprised but responded immediately.
…Is it just me?
As I thought this and looked towards Kazumi-san,
“Then Ishida-kun and I will head back first,” she said, naturally heading towards the station.
It seemed she was considerate again this time.
“Shall we go somewhere?”
I asked Touko-senpai, and she replied,
“There’s a quiet café I know that’s good for talking. Shall we go there?”
She led the way to a home-style café on a backstreet on the opposite side of the station from the university. At first glance, it was hard to tell it was a café.
As we took our seats, Touko-senpai handed me a menu.
“The lunch here is delicious, but the coffee and cake are really good too.”
Touko-senpai ordered a strawberry tart and milk tea, and I ordered a Mont Blanc and coffee.
“Ah, I thought I’d be free after Golden Week…”
Saying so, Touko-senpai leaned forward with a sigh.
“Is it the pressure from the representative decision battle that’s bothering you?”
“Not really pressure, but it’s like ‘the goal has moved further away’ kind of feeling.”
“But Kazumi-san said, ‘If you don’t like it, you can withdraw from the representative decision battle.'”
“It’s not that strong of a feeling. But now it feels like I’m adding more burden to everyone.”
“But people like Minasan seem to be enjoying it.”
“What about you, Isshiki-kun?”
Touko-senpai then looked up at me.
“Huh?”
“What about you, Isshiki-kun?”
“Me? I’m definitely enjoying it too. And I find it meaningful. Analyzing data and developing strategies like this… I might be quite suited for it.”
“That’s good, then.”
Touko-senpai looked relieved.
“I’m actually enjoying this Miss Muse thing too. It’s fun to create something with everyone. You and Ishida-kun have been thinking a lot. And I had experiences I’ve never had before.”
“That’s true. You don’t often get the chance to do cosplay, right?”
Touko-senpai then blushed slightly.
“Y-yeah. That kind of thing was fun, or rather, a new discovery…”
Touko-senpai said in a flustered manner, looking at me with upturned eyes.
“I didn’t mean to say I wanted to wear that kind of outfit. I just thought it was cute and was a bit curious…”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you were thinking about it just now.”
“Well, for a moment.”
“…Idiot…”
Touko-senpai said this, looking down, just as the waitress brought our cake set.
“Are you Touko Sakurajima?”
Just as the waitress left, four men and women entered the café, and one of them called out.
Looking towards the voice, there stood a woman who perfectly fit the description of “gorgeous.”
A face I’ve seen a few times on the web, and just today at the Miss Muse venue.
Rindou Akane, the Miss Jotodai of the year before last and last year, and this year’s “Goddess of Expression” in Miss Muse. And behind her were Karen and two men.
“Rindou-san?”
“What’s wrong? You looked down. Is there something bothering you?”
Rindou Akane said this, smiling with just her mouth.
“It’s not like I was downcast or anything. Are you having a celebration here, Rindou-san?”
“It’s nothing so exhausting. I just came for tea.”
Rindou Akane made a face as if sneering.
But in her eyes, there seemed to be a burning hostility towards Touko-senpai.
“Is that so.”
Touko-senpai said briefly, then sipped her milk tea.
For some reason, Rindou watched her with a look of hatred.
“Hey, since we’ve met here like this, how about a bet?”
“A bet?”
Touko-senpai looked puzzled.
“Yes, between you and me, who will become the representative of Miss Muse?”
Hearing this, Touko-senpai made a face of dislike.
“There are nine in Miss Muse. It’s not decided that it will be either you or me. Even Karen-san has a high chance of becoming the representative.”
“Don’t you have confidence in becoming the representative, Sakurajima-san?”
“No, I don’t. Besides, I’m not in the mood to compete over something like that.”
Touko-senpai answered naturally.
But Rindou Akane’s provocation continued.
“If you’re half-hearted, I wish you’d quit Miss Muse. I’m seriously committed to it.”
“I’m also trying my best.”
“Hmm, but you’re not confident, right? That’s understandable, considering your supporting team seems so shabby. That must be making you anxious.”
When I heard this, it seemed like Touko-senpai’s eyes lit up.
“What did you just say?”
“I said your team seems unreliable. Or in other words, ‘a group of incompetents.’ With such helpers, no wonder you lack confidence.”
Touko-senpai glared at Rindou Akane fiercely.
“Retract that statement. You can say whatever about me, but I won’t allow you to insult my friends!”
“Since you said you lack confidence, I was just guessing the reason. Did I say anything wrong?”
Rindou Akane remained provocatively smirking.
Staring at Rindou, Touko-senpai said,
“If you want me to correct my words, win against me in a competition.”
“Alright. If you insist, I’ll accept your challenge. State your terms.”
I panicked hearing this.
“Touko-senpai! There’s no need to take up such a challenge!”
But Touko-senpai didn’t respond to me.
Rindou Akane continued with a provocative smile.
“Actually, I’d like to say ‘the loser leaves the university,’ but obviously, that’s not possible.”
Of course not. If such a bet was made, I would stop it right here with all my might.
“If Sakurajima-san loses, she will issue a written and video apology on the internet, apologizing for having been called ‘the Shadow Miss Jotodai.’ You can do that much, right?”
Touko-senpai didn’t say such a thing herself…
“If I lose, I’ll apologize for calling Sakurajima-san’s helpers ‘shabby.'”
“The penalty seems heavier for Touko-senpai!”
I raised my voice, but Touko-senpai silenced me.
“What if neither of us becomes the representative?”
“Then we’ll decide based on who gets more points. If we’re tied in points?”
“In that case, it’s a draw, I suppose. But I’ll apologize anyway.”
Touko-senpai seemed to ponder for a moment.
“Alright. That’s fine.”
“But there will definitely be a conclusion, so don’t worry. The ending will be ‘I become the representative.'”
Saying so, Rindou Akane turned her back on us and headed to another table.
She never once looked at me. I guess I’m not even in her consideration.
During all this, Karen hadn’t said a word.
But she seemed to want to say something, looking in my direction.
After Rindou Akane left, we silently ate our cakes and left the café.
After a while on the train, Touko-senpai started the conversation.
“Are you surprised that I accepted Rindou Akane’s challenge?”
“Yes, a bit.”
It seemed out of character for Touko-senpai to take up such a provocation.
“But everyone worked so hard, and to be belittled like ‘useless’… I felt sorry for everyone…”
Touko-senpai looked upset, unable to tolerate us being insulted.
Understanding that, I didn’t say anything more.
“It’s okay. I’m sure everyone understands this situation. Rather, since we’ve decided to compete, let’s work together and win! I don’t want to lose to someone like her!”
Saying this firmly, Touko-senpai nodded in relief.
The next day… I contacted Ishida.
I needed to talk about “something from yesterday.”
We arranged to meet at the usual family restaurant.
I arrived first, but Ishida soon followed.
“Is this about the ‘investigation’ you mentioned yesterday?”
Immediately after sitting down, Ishida asked.
“That too, but before that, there’s something I need to discuss. After yesterday’s…”
I told him about “the challenge between Touko-senpai and Rindou Akane.”
“Seriously? Rindou Akane went that far to provoke?”
Ishida was also surprised.
“I was too. And she was specifically targeting Touko-senpai.”
“Yeah. But Touko-senpai didn’t need to take up that provocation.”
“Touko-senpai couldn’t stand us being ridiculed.”
“That’s appreciative, but… Did you tell Kazumi-san and the others?”
“We’re not done yet. I plan to tell Kazumi-san, but I’m thinking about whether to tell Minami-san. Minami-san and Manami-san really hate Rindou Akane.”
“Yeah, I think so too. It might unnecessarily fuel the fire.”
After discussing this, Ishida changed the topic.
“By the way, Yuu, what’s this ‘thing you want me to investigate’ you mentioned yesterday?”
I took out my laptop, opened the browser, and showed it to Ishida.
“It’s this.”
“Hm, isn’t this the bulletin board on Touko-senpai’s introduction page? What about it?”
“Look at the comments section. Here, here, and here.”
I pointed out parts where there were negative comments about Touko-senpai.
“Ah, trolls. But that’s inevitable. The more visible you are, the more trolls you attract.”
“I know that. What bothers me is the way these comments are posted.”
I showed him the parts of the comments critical of Touko-senpai.
“Most of the comments are favorable towards her, which is expected on a support site. But there’s a pattern to these postings. They usually come in response to new photos or big announcements, like today. However, these critical comments seem to be posted at specific times, especially during peak hours.”
“True, most of them are between 10 PM and midnight.”
“It’s not just that. When one person posts a negative comment, about ten more follow in quick succession. So, those sections become dominated by negative comments.”
After staring at the screen for a while, Ishida looked up.
“So, you’re saying someone is deliberately posting these negative comments?”
“Not all of them, but I think there’s a possibility some are.”
I displayed two more comments side by side.
“Like these two comments. Different IDs, but don’t they sound similar? Starting with ‘something something grass’ or using ‘Wwww’ in every second line?”
“Indeed, they do look similar. Though, without getting the IP addresses, we can’t be sure if they’re the same person.”
“Even if we got the IPs, they’d differ between home networks and mobile connections.”
“True. Besides, such mild trolling wouldn’t warrant a report. And the best tactic against trolls is to ignore them.”
“I thought so too. But I’m worried these trolls might adversely affect the representative decision. It’s a short-term battle. Going into the vote amidst a flame war would be bad.”
“I see. So what do you want me to do?”
“Could you check the IDs of those who posted anti-comments? I’ll create a program to extract the posting times and content of these IDs. I can’t cover everything alone. I need your help.”
“Got it. Won’t you ask others in the circle?”
“Not yet. It’s not clear if it’s an organized attempt to undermine Touko-senpai. Besides, she’d be shocked to see this. I want to observe the situation a bit more before involving others.”
“Understood! With the Golden Week coming up, let’s see how they act during that period.”
Ishida agreed willingly.
I felt a bit relieved. Having someone to consult with makes a big difference compared to investigating alone.
But my fears seemed to be leaning towards the worse.
On the first day of Golden Week, Kazumi-san contacted me.
“Sorry to be abrupt, but can you spare some time today?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“It’s about the comments on the net. I’m a bit worried…”
With that one sentence, I knew what Kazumi-san meant.
Recently, the negative comments against Touko-senpai had increased.
Some of them went beyond criticism to outright slander.
“Touko says she’s not bothered by the comments, but she seems shocked. Can’t we do something to reassure her?”
“I understand. I have some thoughts on it too. I’ll invite Ishida as well.”
“Great. Then I’ll come with Touko…”
We agreed to meet at 1 PM at the family restaurant on the highway, which Ishida and I often used.
Ishida and I arrived almost simultaneously, and a little later, Kazumi-san and Touko-senpai came by car.
Touko-senpai’s expression seemed stiff.
But as soon as we sat down, she spoke.
“We don’t need to gather like this just for some net criticism. I’m not bothered by it.”
Kazumi-san looked worried in response.
“Even so, we can’t ignore such excessive slander. Baseless rumors spreading on the net could affect not just Miss Muse, but our future university life too.”
Hearing this, Touko-senpai looked down, biting her lower lip.
Her complexion seemed unusually pale. Maybe she hadn’t been sleeping well.
The sudden onslaught of malicious words on the internet can be surprisingly mentally damaging, especially for a strong-willed woman like Touko-senpai.
And in the current situation, she couldn’t even counter these comments.
This was precisely when we, her friends, needed to support her. Moreover, Kazumi-san was right; unchecked bashing could affect more than just Miss Muse; it might impact our entire lives.
“Regarding that, I have been feeling something about these series of anti-comments.”
“A feeling? What is it?” Touko-senpai asked curiously.
“These anti-comments seem to be intentionally written by specific people.”
“Why do you think so?” Kazumi-san inquired.
I handed them booklets I had prepared.
“The anti-comments against Touko-senpai are mainly from these twenty IDs. However, from their writing habits and timings, it’s likely that one person is using multiple accounts. So, in reality, there might be only about ten people actively participating in this.”
“Ten people can make this much impact?”
“With ten people, it’s more than enough. If it’s multiple accounts, then it’s like twenty people. Unlike voting, you can create multiple accounts for comments. Moreover, only about six comments are displayed on a smartphone screen. If they post negative comments consecutively, it can create a noticeably negative atmosphere in the comment section.”
Ishida added.
“Right. Ordinary people don’t comment much, especially favorable ones.”
I continued.
“These people are trying to create a minority influence.”
“Minority influence?” Kazumi-san repeated.
“Yes. It’s when the opinion of a minority overpowers and dictates the direction of the majority. This happens when the minority’s opinion is ‘united,’ ‘consistent,’ and ‘from influential members within the group.’ This often occurs in real social situations.”
“Ah, now that you mention it, in actual discussions, if a few vocal people hold an opinion, even if the majority don’t agree, the conclusion often sways that way.”
“I see,” Touko-senpai said, looking convinced.
“Indeed, it’s possible. The ‘Golden 35 Percent Theory’ is similar. If the minority reaches about thirty-five percent, they can ‘influence the group in coordination.’ That’s why companies aim to have at least thirty percent of women on their boards.”
When such a topic comes up, Touko-senpai is strong. She seems to be regaining her composure.
I continued the conversation.
“The problem with the internet is that since all participants are invisible, the assertiveness of the speaker tends to come to the forefront. In a real-life discussion, you can tell by the participants’ facial expressions and atmosphere that they might not necessarily agree with the speaker. As a result, the ‘malicious critical comments’ seem to represent the overall opinion on the internet.”
Kazumi-san, who had been nodding in agreement, looked up.
“I understand this ‘minority influence’ concept. So, what specific measures are we going to take?”
I glanced at Touko-senpai to gauge her condition. She seemed okay now.
“For now, we’ll just watch. Rushing to extinguish the fire might just escalate it into a flame war. Instead, I think it’s better to let these anti-commenters vent to some extent.”
“So, we’re just going to watch for now?”
Kazumi-san seemed a bit dissatisfied. She’s a fighter, after all.
“Yes. Of course, if there are extreme cases of defamation or libel, we can consider legal action later. We’ve already logged the IDs and comments, so if necessary, we can identify the culprits. I don’t think they’re foolish enough to let it get that far.”
“No need to make a fuss,” added Touko-senpai.
“But we do want to keep the anti-comments under thirty percent. If that happens, I think we’ll ask the circle members and other supporters to post positive comments.”
“Got it. We have the new members’ camp and a drinking party during Golden Week. I’ll ask everyone then.”
This year’s new members’ camp couldn’t secure overnight lodging, so we decided to have day-trip barbecues in the first and second halves of Golden Week.
That timing should be sufficient.
“If the flame war continues until after Golden Week, it could affect the representative decision,” said Ishida.
“And if we’re going to crush the anti-comments, doing it all at once would be better. Repeated comments, whether for or against, are generally disliked.”
The reverse is also true – it’s hard for the anti-camp to keep posting the same critical comments repeatedly.
“Alright, let’s go with that. Timing and such, I’ll leave it to you, Yuu,” said Kazumi-san.
Everyone’s faces brightened.
Touko-senpai’s expression also regained its brightness.
As we were leaving the family restaurant, Touko-senpai said, “Wait a minute,” and pulled me to the corner of the parking lot.
“Yuu, thank you so much for today. To be honest, I was really anxious and sad. I kept wondering, ‘Why do I have to be treated like this?’ But I felt helpless… However, today, knowing that you had been researching and thinking about this for me, I felt really happy. I strongly felt that I’m not alone.”
I nodded firmly.
“That’s right, Touko-senpai. You’re not alone. Didn’t we all decide that at the beginning? Not just me, Kazumi-san, Ishida, and the circle members, but many others support you. You have over ten thousand followers, and only about twenty people are criticizing you. Isn’t 0.2 percent scientifically considered a margin of error?”
Hearing this, Touko-senpai raised her face and smiled broadly.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t worry about this and get depressed. Yes, thanks to you, I feel energized! Let’s do our best!”
Saying this, she raised her right hand and headed back to Kazumi-san’s car.