The dorm room was silent, save for the faint hum of the heater in the corner. Steam from the radiator curled lazily into the air, making the room feel warmer than it actually was. Kaoru stepped into the small bathroom, every muscle in her body aching from the two-day journey back from the grasslands. Her boots left faint wet prints on the floor, and her cloak, still dust-streaked, brushed against the tile.

  She let the hot water cascade over her, letting it soothe tense shoulders and aching legs. The heat seemed to wash away more than dirt—it loosened the weight of responsibility that had settled on her during the survival camp.

  Every step… every day… we made it through.

  She thought of the long stretches of grasslands, the forest patrols, the river that had been both lifeline and checkpoint, and the tense rotations at night. She remembered every glance of worry, every whispered argument, and every small act of courage her classmates had displayed. Every one of them mattered.

  Kaoru stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a thick towel, taking a slow, steadying breath. She approached the mirror, the condensation still clinging to the glass. Her reflection stared back at her: tired eyes, strands of damp hair sticking to her cheeks, dirt still faintly visible along the collar of her shirt. And yet… she was alive.

  How will they evaluate us? she wondered.

  Would the teachers praise the students for holding together, for cooperating, for maintaining morale? Or would the focus be on minor mistakes, the arguments that nearly fractured the group, and the exhaustion they had endured?

  Her eyes drifted to the small table in the corner of the dorm room. A faint memory stirred her attention—Ashveil.

  The drug had caused chaos within Fiester Academy. Even after surviving the camp, the danger wasn’t gone. The deliveries, the unknown culprit, the students still at risk… it all lingered like a shadow. Kaoru shook her head and pulled on her uniform: the familiar red blazer, crisp white button-up, and black trousers. She fastened the blazer and smoothed the folds of her shirt, taking one last look in the mirror.

  No rest. Not until I check on the situation.

  With that thought, she grabbed her satchel and stepped out into the quiet halls of Fiester Academy. Her footsteps echoed softly against the polished floors, the dim lights casting long shadows along the walls. The campus was nearly empty, save for the faint flicker of lamps from a few offices still occupied late into the night.

  Kaoru approached the student council room, knocking lightly on the oak door.

  “Come in,” a familiar voice called.

  She stepped inside. Miyazuki Ashen, the student council president, sat behind the large desk, papers spread around her like a small fortress. Her amber eyes lifted to meet Kaoru’s, calm but assessing.

  “You’re here late,” Miyazuki said, tilting her head. “How was the survival camp?”

  Kaoru let out a small, exhausted breath. “Exhausting… but we managed to hold it together until the last day.”

  Miyazuki nodded approvingly. “Good. Strong wills like that will serve the academy well. But… I wonder why you’re here instead of resting in your dorms.”

  Kaoru stepped closer, leaning slightly on the edge of the desk. “I wanted to ask about Ashveil. Has there been any progress? Any leads on the person responsible for bringing it in?”

  Miyazuki leaned back, her expression sharpening. “No concrete progress. Since your group left, no one has found a trail. But… there was a suspicious person spotted on campus recently.”

  Kaoru’s brow furrowed. “Suspicious?”

  Miyazuki exhaled slowly. “He wore a hooded cloak and a giant skull over his head. Walked into the campus in the morning, announced himself as a child of someone called ‘Mother,’ and claimed the academy would fall sooner or later.”

  Kaoru blinked. “A skull… cloak… and he said all that? Sounds… ridiculous.”

  Miyazuki allowed a faint, tight-lipped smirk. “Exactly. The way he looked… absurd, almost comical. But still, we can’t ignore it entirely.”

  Kaoru nodded. “I agree. Hard to take seriously, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Miyazuki’s gaze softened slightly. “Rest when you can. You’ve done enough for today.”

  Kaoru inclined her head. “I will. Thank you, President Ashen.”

  Later that night, Kaoru returned to her family home. The streets were quiet, bathed in the soft glow of street lamps, the stars above scattered like tiny sparks of silver. The air smelled faintly of evening dew and wood smoke.

  She entered the house, greeted by the familiar aroma of home-cooked dinner lingering in the kitchen.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Kaoru,” her mother, Rikuya, said softly, concern lining her face. “Why are you back so soon?”

  Kaoru smiled faintly. “Tomorrow’s a day off. There won’t be any classes.”

  Her father, Renjiro, rubbed the back of his neck, his expression uneasy. “How… how was the camp?” he asked, voice tight with worry.

  Kaoru’s instincts tingled. Something felt off. She tilted her head, suspicion sharpening her senses. “Why are you both acting suspicious?”

  Her parents exchanged a brief glance. Rikuya shifted uncomfortably while Renjiro exhaled.

  “Kaoru,” Renjiro began, voice steady but cautious, “you need to listen carefully. What we’re about to tell you… it might be a shock.”

  Kaoru’s heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”

  Rikuya stepped forward, her hand trembling slightly. “You’re going to have… a little sibling.”

  Kaoru froze, eyes wide. “A… sibling?”

  “Yes,” Renjiro said gently. “Your mother is pregnant. Soon, you’ll have someone younger at home.”

  For a long moment, silence filled the room, broken only by the soft tick of the clock. Then Kaoru’s lips curved into a bright, almost disbelieving smile.

  “I… I’m going to have a little sibling?” she whispered, voice barely above the rustle of fabric. “That’s… that’s amazing!”

  Rikuya nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “We wanted to tell you in person, but… we weren’t sure how to bring it up.”

  Renjiro chuckled softly, shaking his head. “We were just as nervous as you might be.”

  Kaoru laughed lightly, the tension from the survival camp and Ashveil momentarily lifting. “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to meet them.”

  Her mother moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Kaoru’s shoulder. “We’re happy too. But you’ve been through so much with the camp… I hope you can take a night to relax.”

  “I will,” Kaoru replied. “It’s been exhausting, but… knowing this, everything feels lighter.”

  Renjiro gestured toward the living room. “Sit. Let’s talk. Tell us everything about the camp.”

  Kaoru hesitated briefly, then began recounting the journey—the grasslands, the river patrols, the forest foraging, the tense watch rotations, the missing teachers, and even the mysterious riders who had appeared on the horizon.

  “Two more days… and then relief,” she concluded, describing the encounter with the orange-haired rider and his companion.

  Her parents listened intently, eyes widening at times, nodding in admiration.

  “You were alone for five days?” Rikuya asked softly.

  Kaoru nodded. “With the class. We had arguments, small fights, even mistrust—but I made sure everyone stayed together.”

  “That’s incredible,” Renjiro said proudly. “You’ve grown so much, Kaoru.”

  She continued, recounting the lessons learned—the importance of trust, teamwork, and keeping morale high even under extreme stress.

  “And we learned to work as a team,” Kaoru said, her voice firm. “Even when things seemed hopeless… we had each other. That’s what kept us alive.”

  Rikuya reached out and held Kaoru’s hand, her eyes glistening. “You’re very brave, Kaoru. Your father and I… we worry, but we’re so proud.”

  Kaoru smiled, feeling a warmth she hadn’t realized she needed. “Thank you… I couldn’t have done it without them either. My classmates…”

  Renjiro leaned back, folding his arms. “I can see you’ve grown into someone responsible… but now, you’ll have to share that responsibility at home soon.”

  Kaoru’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll take care of them… my little sibling.”

  Rikuya laughed softly. “You’ll be an amazing older sister, Kaoru.”

  Kaoru sank into the couch, finally allowing herself to relax. Her mind replayed the past week—the survival camp, the missing teachers, Ashveil, the mysterious hooded figure, and now… the joy of family news.

  “Kaoru,” Renjiro said, breaking her reverie, “remember… we’ll always be here for you. But… make sure you don’t forget to rest.”

  “I won’t,” she promised. “I’ll sleep tonight… I deserve it after everything.”

  The three of them spent the remainder of the night talking quietly. Childhood stories surfaced, questions about the academy were asked, and hopes for the future were shared. Occasionally, Kaoru laughed at small anecdotes from the survival camp—funny mishaps, victories, and her classmates’ quirks.

  By the time the first hints of dawn appeared outside the window, Kaoru felt a sense of peace she hadn’t felt since before the survival camp began. She was exhausted—but happy.

  Her little sibling would arrive soon, the academy awaited her return to normalcy, and the challenges of Ashveil remained. But tonight, for a few precious hours, Kaoru allowed herself to simply rest, surrounded by family, warmth, and reassurance.