The smell of paper, ink, and faint hints of wood polish filled the Independent Research Society's clubroom. For most, it was just another quiet day after classes, but for Reina, the air felt heavier than usual. She sat at a desk near the wide windows, her pale fingers wrapped tightly around a pen that spun restlessly between them. A notebook lay open before her, its first page already scratched with meticulous handwriting—time stamps, schedules, and ideas.
But the further she went, the emptier the page became.
She had written five activities so far for the three-day, two-night camping trip.
Arrive at the campsite.
Build tents.
Gather firewood.
Search for water.
Forage for food.
It was a logical plan, enough to cover the basics. She'd even written down estimated hours—six for the first stage, balancing instruction and group division, ensuring the first-years could manage without breaking into chaos. And yet, she was stuck. The tip of her pen tapped the margin of her notes, an irregular beat echoing her restless mind.
This should be simple. Survival, discipline, teamwork… there are so many possibilities. Why can't I just write them down?
Her snowy-white hair slid from behind her ear as she leaned forward, glaring at the paper as if intimidation alone could summon more ideas.
Across the room, Arisa Fujimoto, already half-buried in insect specimen cases and survival manuals, tilted her head curiously. She had the kind of energy that seemed endless, as though bugs and forests fueled her instead of food. Beside her, Sei Ishikawa was fiddling with camping stoves, knives, and a pile of dried herbs he had somehow brought from home. Their chatter filled the room, contrasting with Reina's heavy silence.
"Oi, Reina," Arisa finally called, tapping her pen against the desk. "What've you got so far?"
Reina didn't look up. "…Basic survival setup. Camps, firewood, water, foraging."
"Only that?" Arisa blinked, then laughed a little too loudly. "Don't tell me the great Reina Ayanami is stuck?"
The name still made Reina flinch. She was trying to push people away from titles, honorifics, any gap that placed her on a pedestal. But her appearance, her intelligence, the way she carried herself—it all made her untouchable in their eyes. Even in the Independent Research Society, a gathering of the brightest minds in their year, Reina felt isolated.
"I'm not stuck," she said softly, though her pen hadn't moved.
Sei smirked knowingly. "Looks pretty stuck to me."
Reina sighed, finally placing her pen down. "It isn't about what to do. It's about how much responsibility we're placing on the first-years. I don't want to overwhelm them. But if we go too easy, they'll treat it like a holiday."
"Fair point," Arisa said, twirling a strand of her short chestnut hair. "So… balance survival with something fun. Maybe bug-collecting competitions?"
"No," Reina answered flatly.
Arisa puffed her cheeks, feigning offense. "Hey, don't dismiss it instantly! Bugs are great."
Sei chuckled, turning to Reina. "Then maybe cooking challenges? I mean, if they're gathering mushrooms, fish, plants… why not let them experiment? I can supervise, of course."
Reina tilted her head slightly. "Risk of poisoning."
"I'd check beforehand," Sei countered, feigning wounded pride.
Their banter drew laughs from the club's other members—third-years and upperclassmen who had been working on their own projects but gradually drifted closer, curious about Reina's notes. One by one, they circled around her table, throwing suggestions, some realistic, some utterly absurd.
"Obstacle courses!""Night sky observation.""Team puzzle games.""What about simulated emergencies?"
Reina scribbled keywords, trying to make sense of it all. Slowly, the page filled again. And with each suggestion, she began adjusting, crossing out, combining ideas until a structure began forming.
It was noisy, messier than she liked, but strangely… comforting.
On the far side of the room, Nakamura Ren sat quietly at his desk, his laptop glowing with lines of code. Unlike the others, he hadn't even glanced at Reina's struggle. His focus was absolute, his fingers typing away at the keyboard in rhythmic precision.
Takano Mei, sitting nearby, noticed the contrast. She pushed up her glasses and leaned toward him.
"Ren," she whispered, "why aren't you helping?"
He didn't look up. "Not my field."
Mei frowned. "That's not an excuse. Everyone's pitching in."
"I deal with algorithms, simulations, and systems," Ren said calmly. "This—" he gestured vaguely at Reina's group "—is survival planning. I'd only get in the way."
Mei tilted her head. "But Reina would still appreciate it, you know. Even if it's just… moral support."
Ren finally glanced at her, his dark eyes thoughtful. "Reina doesn't need my support. She has the whole room orbiting around her already."
There was no malice in his words—just observation. Still, Mei felt a sting. She turned her gaze toward Reina. Indeed, the once-silent girl was now surrounded by lively voices, her notebook filled with messy but promising notes, her pale hair catching the light like a beacon. She wasn't smiling, not exactly, but her lips weren't pressed as tightly as usual. She looked… alive.
Mei leaned back. "Maybe. But still. It's different when it's you."
Ren didn't answer, his fingers resuming their rhythm.
Hours passed. The sun outside dipped low, painting the clubroom in orange hues. Reina stretched her wrist, staring at the thick pages now filled with schedules.
Day 1: Arrival, setup, survival basics.Day 2: Exploration, team activities, foraging and cooking contests.Day 3: Simulated emergency drills, then reflection before departure.
Every activity had a time slot, estimated duration, risks, and alternatives. It was almost military in detail.
"Looks terrifying," Arisa admitted, peering over her shoulder. "But… kinda exciting."
"Too much?" Reina asked quietly.
"Maybe," Sei said, grinning. "But better than too little."
The others nodded. Even those who hadn't contributed much were impressed. Reina's ability to turn scattered chaos into structured brilliance was something they'd all witnessed before—but it never failed to awe them.
For Reina, though, it was just… exhausting. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling.
Why am I the one doing this?
Because the principal trusted her. Because everyone expected her to. Because she couldn't say no.
And yet, in the middle of the noise and brainstorming, something unfamiliar stirred in her chest. Not dread, not burden—something lighter.
Maybe, just maybe… this wouldn't be so unbearable.
Meanwhile, Mei's eyes lingered on Ren again. He hadn't moved from his laptop, hadn't joined even once. But his gaze occasionally flickered toward Reina, faster than anyone could catch. Mei noticed, though, and her lips curved into a quiet, knowing smile.
She didn't say anything more. Not yet.
The meeting finally ended when the sun had set completely. Papers were stacked, notebooks closed, laughter lingering as the club members packed their bags. Arisa, ever the energetic one, was already buzzing about bugs they might encounter at the campsite. Sei promised to bring spices to make wild-caught food taste like gourmet meals.
Reina gathered her papers carefully, sliding them into a folder. Her hands trembled faintly from the long hours, but her face remained calm, unreadable.
As the others filed out, she stood last by the window, looking at the night sky. Her reflection stared back—pale hair, tired eyes, an expression caught between strength and loneliness.
And in that silence, she whispered softly to herself:
"…This better not be a disaster."
But deep down, she knew it wouldn't be. Not with them.