Morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of Kaoru’s dorm room, pale and restrained, as if even the day itself was hesitant to begin.

  She lay still, eyes open, listening.

  Footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway outside. A door slid open somewhere down the corridor. Voices murmured greetings—sleepy, habitual, unaware. The academy was waking up, just like it always did.

  Tomorrow, it would be empty.

  The day before the camping trip had arrived.

  Kaoru exhaled slowly and pushed herself upright, rubbing the back of her neck as the chill of early morning clung to her skin. Her gaze drifted to the neatly folded uniform laid out on the chair, the student council armband resting on top like a quiet reminder of responsibility.

  Ashveil hasn’t disappeared.

  Even after the crackdown—after patrols, confiscations, detentions—the rumors refused to die. They lingered like an illness beneath the surface.

  One last vial.

  Just once more.

  Enough strength to matter.

  Kaoru’s fingers curled into the bedsheet.

  Leaving now feels wrong.

  The student council room was unusually quiet.

  Stacks of reports blanketed the long table, each bound in thin cord and stamped with red seals from the Disciplinary Committee. The smell of ink and old parchment hung in the air.

  Miyazuki Ashen stood near the tall windows, hands folded behind her back, her posture perfect as she gazed down at the academy grounds below. Students moved across the courtyard in neat lines, unaware of the tension simmering above them.

  Kaoru knocked once.

  “Enter.”

  She stepped inside and closed the door carefully, the soft click sounding louder than it should have.

  Miyazuki didn’t turn. “You’re early.”

  Kaoru nodded. “Yes.”

  Silence stretched for a moment.

  “President,” Kaoru said finally, “I need to ask something.”

  Miyazuki turned then, crimson eyes sharp but attentive. “Go on.”

  Kaoru inhaled slowly, choosing each word with care. “About the camping trip.”

  Miyazuki’s gaze narrowed—just a fraction.

  “I was wondering,” Kaoru continued, voice steady despite the knot in her chest, “if it would be possible for me to stay behind.”

  The air changed.

  “To help with the drug abuse situation,” Kaoru added quickly. “Ashveil hasn’t been fully contained. If I remain here, I can assist Renji and the others.”

  The silence that followed was heavy, deliberate.

  Then—

  “No.”

  The word landed cleanly. Absolute.

  Kaoru stiffened. “…President?”

  Miyazuki stepped closer, her presence commanding without raising her voice. “The survival camp exists for a reason.”

  She gestured toward the window. “Fiester Academy does not train students to rely on protection. It trains them to act when protection disappears.”

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  Kaoru clenched her fists. “But this situation—”

  “Will be handled,” Miyazuki interrupted, firm but not harsh. “The Disciplinary Committee has agreed to full cooperation. Additional patrols are already in place.”

  She paused, then added more quietly, “You staying would not solve everything.”

  Kaoru swallowed. “I just don’t want—”

  “I know,” Miyazuki said.

  Her voice softened, though her resolve did not.

  “Skipping the camp means losing an opportunity,” she continued. “Not in the future. Now. Evaluations, trust, command authority—these things are decided when no one is watching.”

  Kaoru’s eyes widened slightly.

  “You are the vice president,” Miyazuki said. “If you don’t go, it sends a message.”

  Kaoru lowered her gaze.

  After a moment, Miyazuki stepped back. “We will be fine here. You need to be there.”

  Kaoru stood silently, then bowed deeply.

  “…I trust your judgment.”

  Miyazuki nodded once. “Good.”

  The rest of the day fractured into pieces.

  Packing.

  Equipment checks.

  Final briefings.

  The academy buzzed with nervous energy. Students clustered together, voices overlapping with speculation and forced laughter.

  “Camping trip, huh?”

  “Think it’s really dangerous?”

  “Bet they exaggerate.”

  Kaoru moved through it all quietly, her thoughts elsewhere.

  At lunch, she sat alone, staring down at her untouched tray.

  “You look like you’re already tired.”

  She looked up.

  Itsuki Raien stood across from her, holding a drink, casual smile in place.

  “Mind?” he asked, already pulling out the chair.

  She gave a faint smile. “Go ahead.”

  He sat. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”

  “Rainforest,” Kaoru said.

  “Grasslands,” Itsuki replied. “Opposite ends of the world.”

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “…Be careful,” Itsuki said finally. “Open spaces can be dangerous too.”

  Kaoru nodded. “You too. Don’t let the humidity slow you down.”

  Itsuki chuckled. “I’ll survive.”

  They parted without ceremony.

  Night arrived quietly.

  Kaoru lay on her bed, gear packed neatly beside it. Her sword leaned against the wall, polished, ready.

  She stared at the ceiling.

  No turning back now.

  Morning came swiftly.

  Class 3-C gathered at the academy gates, packs secured, uniforms adjusted. Some students laughed nervously. Others stood stiff and silent.

  Rena Kisaragi stood at the front.

  “From here,” she announced calmly, “you will travel on foot.”

  Her gaze swept across them.

  “You all just need to have fun.”

  The gates opened.

  Beyond them stretched the road leading into the grasslands—wide, endless, and unforgiving.

  Kaoru stepped forward with her class.

  And with that—

  Class 3-C departed.