Winter was almost over, but the cold still bit at my fingers as I walked into the academy courtyard. Despite that, everyone looked… weirdly excited. First-year elections had officially begun today, and apparently that meant chaos.
A lot of chaos.
I had no intention of running for anything. They made it very clear that the Student Council needed people who were smart, organized, sociable, diplomatic… all things I wasn't. I was the First-Year Representative already because of my ranking, and that was more than enough responsibility.
Still, even if I wasn't running, I didn't expect to see what I saw next.
The courtyard was plastered with flyers. Literally plastered. Some were taped to pillars, some were nailed into trees, and some… were stuck onto students' backs without their permission.
Right in the middle of it all stood Seraphyne, arms crossed, pink hair flowing behind her like she was posing for a painting—even though she definitely wasn't. Her expression was serious, determined, and intimidating.
And then she sneezed and almost fell over.
Kazen calmly caught her by the collar.
"Seraphyne, maybe don't stand directly in the winter wind?" he muttered.
"I—I'm fine," she said, straightening herself as if nothing happened. "A president must be resilient."
Next to her, Varein held a perfectly organized pamphlet stack. Theon was loudly shouting—of course he was—trying to get people's attention.
"VOTE FOR SERAPHYNE! SHE'S—UH—SHE'S REALLY GOOD AT BEING HERSELF!"
"That… doesn't sound convincing," I told him.
"Rain, it's fine! My voice alone inspires trust!"
"It inspires tinnitus."
Arion was carving a wooden sign with surprising delicacy, Aelira was pacing in circles trying to calm herself, and Liraeth was acting as Seraphyne's security… which meant students made a ten-foot radius around her without even being asked.
Liam stood quietly at the back, looking suspiciously like he was ready to step in if things got too embarrassing.
Kai, on the other hand, was drawing on a huge banner with a brush that was way too wide.
"You spelled 'President' wrong," I said.
Kai inspected it.
"Presi—dant," he read aloud. "Huh. Looks fine to me."
"It's not."
"Art is interpretive, Rain."
"No. No, it's not."
And then she appeared.
Tall, elegant, and smiling with absolute confidence—wearing a long blue scarf that fluttered like she controlled the wind itself.
Eloria Vantresse.
A highly-ranked academic student from Class 1-A. Kind of intimidating. Very smart. Also extremely organized.
Three 1-A students followed behind her carrying boxes of color-matched campaign materials like a mini army.
Her posters were perfect, symmetric, and made to perfection.
"Good morning, Rain of Class 1-S," She said politely when she walked past me.
"…Morning?"
She glanced at Seraphyne's banner—the one where 'president' was spelled wrong—and a soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Oh my," she murmured. "How… charming."
Seraphyne twitched.
"That was an insult," she whispered to me.
"Kinda, yeah."
During lunch break, they forced all first years to gather for the first round of speeches.
Seraphyne strode up to the podium with confidence.
She cleared her throat.
"I—Seraphyne Flametide—promise to guide our first year with stability, fairness, and—"
The podium cracked.
She had gripped the edges too hard.
The entire courtyard froze.
She looked down at the broken podium.
Then up at the crowd.
"…Pretend that didn't happen."
Someone in the back clapped.
Then someone else.
And slowly, the whole courtyard.
It was the weirdest applause I'd ever heard.
Next, Eloria went up. She gave a clean, polished speech with perfect posture and diction—like she'd rehearsed it ten times in front of a mirror.
She talked about academic excellence, bridging the gap between 1-A and 1-S, improving unity, organizing events…
The crowd actually nodded along.
It was going to be a close race.
Back at our classroom facility, we brainstormed campaign ideas.
Which meant everyone talked at the same time while Liam took neat notes, Kazen tried to mediate, and Seraphyne kept striking dramatic poses for no reason.
"Seraphyne should show her strength!" Theon insisted. "Like lifting something big! Maybe a tree!"
"Maybe don't uproot academy property," Aelira said weakly.
"Rain," Seraphyne said suddenly, turning to me, "what do you think?"
"…Don't break anything else."
"That's… incredibly vague."
"You're incredibly destructive."
Varein quietly slid Seraphyne a list he'd written.
"Maybe stick to controlled demonstrations," he suggested.
She brightened. "Yes. That!"
Kai raised his hand. "I suggest we duel the 1-A campaign team."
"No," Kazen responded immediately.
"Why not?"
"Because your last duel suggestion ended with a building collapsing."
"…Details."
"Big details."
We ended the day making posters.
Kai painted aggressively. Too aggressively.
Arion accidentally scared three first-years away just by asking if they needed help holding signs.
Theon stapled his own sleeve to a bulletin board.
Aelira tried to hand out informational leaflets but was so nervous that people apologized to her instead of taking them.
Liraeth scared off a group of students who were actually trying to take posters. By accident.
And me?
I stood there watching it all and wondering how Class 1-A looked so normal compared to this circus.
But somehow… it was fun.
Chaotic, loud, ridiculous—but fun.
At the end of the day, Instructor Aldred made an announcement:
"The First-Year Festival will take place in two weeks. The Student Council will be overseeing all preparations."
Half the first years cheered.
The other half groaned.
Seraphyne pumped her fist. "Then I must win. I want to make a festival that everyone will enjoy."
Eloria, on the other side of the courtyard, smiled elegantly.
"It will be a pleasure competing with you, Seraphyne."
For a moment the two locked eyes, sparks practically forming between them.
And me?
I just stood there thinking:
I'm definitely not qualified to deal with student politics.
But I guess I'll have to watch this unfold anyway.
Because Class 1-S was serious about this.
Too serious.
Terrifyingly serious.
But… I couldn't deny it.
Watching everyone throw themselves into it—my strange, chaotic class—I realized something:
I'd actually gotten used to them.
And weirdly…
I didn't mind it.