While the Main Dojo slowly woke beneath drifting morning mist and distant waterfalls—
the guest bungalows remained completely unconscious.
Or rather—
collapsed.
Mei Tanaka woke slowly beneath warm sunlight filtering through the paper-screen windows of the guest residence.
For several seconds she remained beneath the blankets listening to the quiet around her.
Peaceful.
Suspiciously peaceful.
Then she remembered:
Torres.
Little Bean.
The festival.
The fact nobody had actually returned to their assigned rooms properly.
Mei closed her eyes briefly.
"...oh no."
She sat up.
Tied her hair back.
Then stepped quietly into the main lounge.
And immediately stopped.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The bungalow looked like civilization had failed overnight.
Blankets covered furniture.
Pillows occupied strategic locations.
Half-finished snacks remained abandoned across tables.
Someone—
almost certainly Torres—
had constructed defensive fortifications from couch cushions and decorative pillows.
Mei stared for several seconds.
Then slowly smiled.
Because honestly—
it looked ridiculous.
And strangely comforting.
Morning sunlight spilled softly across the polished wooden floors while distant waterfalls echoed somewhere beyond the valley.
Near the central couch—
Torres had completely surrendered to unconsciousness.
One arm hung off the side dramatically.
His blanket had partially escaped.
And Little Bean slept beside him with one foot firmly planted across Torres's forehead.
Like conquered territory.
Torres somehow remained asleep through it.
Mei immediately raised her datapad.
Click.
Historical evidence.
Then another.
Because nobody would believe this later.
Little Bean remained asleep while clutching a datapad against his chest.
Several spreadsheets still glowed faintly across the screen.
"...of course."
The picture disappeared into the Elite Twelve group chat immediately.
Three dots appeared almost at once.
KAEL:
OH MY GOD.
KAEL:
HE'S BEING USED AS FURNITURE.
MEI:
Correct.
KAEL:
THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING I'VE SEEN ALL WEEK.
MEI:
You're currently in the Main Dojo.
A pause.
Then:
KAEL:
SECOND FUNNIEST.
Mei rolled her eyes and continued walking.
───
The next couch somehow looked worse.
Lucian Valerius occupied the center.
Perfect posture.
Perfect blanket placement.
Perfect hair.
Even unconscious he somehow looked aristocratic.
The problem was everything around him.
Rafe Mercier occupied one side beneath a blanket cocoon.
Marcus Calder occupied the opposite side.
Darius Kane had apparently surrendered entirely and ended up sleeping on the floor beside them using a decorative cushion as a pillow.
Lucian remained trapped in the middle.
Like some nobleman abandoned by fate.
Mei physically stopped.
"...what happened here."
Nobody answered.
Click.
Historical evidence.
The image vanished into the chat.
KAEL:
WHY DOES LUCIAN STILL LOOK NOBLE.
MEI:
Unknown.
KAEL:
HE LOOKS LIKE A PORTRAIT.
MEI:
Accurate.
───
Farther into the lounge—
another blanket fortress appeared.
This one immediately softened her expression.
Ethan Walsh slept against the wall.
Ren had somehow stolen Ethan's hoodie.
Viktor Hale occupied an unreasonable amount of physical space.
Jun Park remained perfectly still beneath the blankets.
Peaceful.
Calm.
Untouched by earthly concerns.
And Ethan—
even asleep—
still had one arm stretched protectively across the younger boys.
Like some part of him remained awake enough to make sure nobody drifted away.
Mei crouched slightly.
Then quietly took the picture.
Click.
Historical evidence.
No jokes.
No comments.
Just the image.
Several seconds later:
KAEL:
...Ethan.
Then:
KAEL:
Of course he did.
Mei smiled.
Because yes.
Of course he did.
───
Near the far side of the room—
Mei physically stopped.
"...no."
Lysander Forest.
Sylas Forest.
Same blanket.
Same position.
Same arm placement.
Same expression.
Same posture.
Perfect synchronization.
It was deeply unsettling.
Mei took three pictures.
Just to verify.
Nothing changed.
Click.
Historical evidence.
KAEL:
WHY ARE THEY IDENTICAL EVEN WHEN ASLEEP.
MEI:
Unknown.
KAEL:
THAT CANNOT BE HEALTHY.
MEI:
Probably not.
RYVEN:
Normal.
KAEL:
THAT IS NOT NORMAL.
───
The dining area somehow became worse.
Because Octavian Vale was asleep directly on top of the dining table.
Not beside it.
Not near it.
On it.
One arm hanging dramatically over the edge.
Blanket draped across half his body.
Like a noble lord who had perished after a banquet.
Mei stared.
Then looked underneath the table.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
His entire crew was sleeping beneath him.
Blankets.
Pillows.
Backpacks.
One cadet still held playing cards.
Another used a folded jacket as a pillow.
Mei immediately took multiple pictures.
Historical evidence.
KAEL:
WHY ARE THEY UNDER THE TABLE.
MEI:
Unknown.
KAEL:
WHY IS OCTAVIAN ON THE TABLE.
MEI:
Also unknown.
KAEL:
THIS LOOKS LIKE A NOBLE ECOSYSTEM.
MEI:
Accurate description.
───
Near the dining counter—
Tomas Ibarra remained seated exactly where he had apparently fallen asleep.
Still upright.
Still holding chopsticks.
One dumpling remained suspended halfway between plate and mouth.
Time itself appeared unwilling to interfere.
Mei stared.
The moment felt sacred.
Click.
Historical evidence.
───
Outside—
near one of the garden paths—
Marty Paulson had somehow fallen asleep beneath an engawa bench.
Still holding half a food skewer.
Still comfortable.
Disturbingly comfortable.
Click.
Historical evidence.
───
Near the koi pond—
Rita Brown and Cynthia Tate had collapsed beside an unfinished card game.
Cards remained scattered around them.
Cynthia still held several cards against her chest.
Neither appeared concerned.
Click.
Another picture.
Then another.
Because nobody would believe it otherwise.
───
Finally—
Mei reached Hana's room.
She opened the door.
Paused.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
The situation remained unchanged.
The room looked less like a bedroom and more like an emergency shelter.
Hana occupied the bed.
Naturally.
Everyone else occupied the floor.
Camille.
Valerie.
Lila.
Ava.
Eva.
Elowen.
Seraphine.
Blankets.
Pillows.
Festival prizes.
Half-finished conversations.
The Miller twins remained synchronized even while unconscious.
Lila somehow occupied enough floor space to violate physics.
Valerie still had a notebook beside her.
Seraphine and Elowen looked like they had fallen asleep midway through a conversation.
Mei slowly raised her datapad.
Click.
Historical evidence.
The picture vanished into the chat.
KAEL:
OH MY GOD THERE ARE MORE.
MEI:
Hana's room.
KAEL:
THEY MULTIPLIED.
MEI:
Possible.
Several moments passed.
Then another message appeared.
Shorter this time.
Quieter.
KAEL:
...they look happy.
Mei looked around the bungalow again.
At the blankets.
The sleeping cadets.
The complete lack of distance between any of them.
Then she answered honestly.
MEI:
They are.
Several seconds passed.
Then:
KAEL:
Don't wake them yet.
Another message followed immediately.
KAEL:
Especially Torres.
This is historically important.
Mei physically snorted.
───
Far above the bungalow district—
inside the Main Dojo—
Kael sat cross-legged along one of the observation walkways overlooking the awakening mountain.
Ryven stood beside him.
Morning sunlight spilled through the enormous open structure while waterfalls echoed beyond the cliffs.
Dojo attendants moved quietly through the halls.
Lanterns swayed gently overhead.
Kael looked down at the newest picture and immediately started laughing again.
Ryven glanced at the screen.
"...Torres."
"Torres."
Another picture appeared.
The Forest twins.
Ryven stared for several seconds.
"...unsettling."
Kael pointed triumphantly.
"THANK YOU."
Finally.
Someone understood.
Nearby, Hanae glanced toward him knowingly.
"You are causing problems."
"I'm documenting history."
"That sounds like something Miss Krysta would say."
Kael looked entirely too pleased.
"It runs in the family."
Ryven looked toward him.
"Unfortunately."
"BETRAYAL."
For a few moments—
everything felt peaceful.
The mountain.
The morning air.
The distant sound of waterfalls.
The warmth spreading through the ancient halls.
Then—
from somewhere high above the visible terraces—
wooden slippers echoed against stone.
Clack.
A pause.
Clack.
Another.
Clack.
The sound echoed faintly through the mountain.
Hanae stopped moving.
Several attendants immediately looked upward.
Master Ren slowly lowered his tea cup.
Kael froze.
Very slowly—
he lowered his datapad.
"...oh no."
Ryven looked toward him.
"What."
Kael stared toward the upper terraces.
His expression had gone from delighted to deeply concerned in less than two seconds.
"...Master Sora is awake."
And somewhere high above the hidden mountain—
the sound of wooden slippers suddenly began moving much faster.