Tatsuya Kuroda stood at the base of the massive wrought iron gates of Yutaka Academy, feeling like an intruder on a billionaire’s estate. The golden emblem at the top of the gates—depicting a phoenix rising from a mountain of treasure—seemed to mock him. His worn leather school bag hung loosely in one hand, its edges fraying as if it, too, understood that it didn’t belong in such a pristine, extravagant place.

  “Yutaka Academy, huh?” he muttered, tilting his head back to look up at the sprawling campus beyond the gates. Marble statues of mythical creatures lined the immaculate walkway, leading to a series of buildings so grand they looked like they’d been plucked out of a European palace. For a moment, Tatsuya debated turning around and heading back to the crowded one-bedroom apartment he shared with his mom. Maybe he’d been better off in his old, dilapidated public school, where he at least blended in with everyone else.

  But he didn’t have that luxury. This scholarship was his only ticket to a better future—a golden opportunity, even if it came wrapped in an environment that screamed I don’t belong here.

  The gates opened with an almost theatrical creak, as if the academy itself was rolling out the red carpet for its newest “special case.” Students strolled by, their uniforms immaculate, their conversations peppered with mentions of exotic vacations, luxury brands, and weekend yacht parties. Tatsuya’s plain, secondhand blazer suddenly felt like an insult to the very concept of fashion.

  As he made his way toward the main building, his steps faltered when he spotted a student climbing out of a limousine. She was strikingly beautiful, her long black hair flowing like silk in the breeze, and she carried herself with an air of effortless elegance. A diamond brooch sparkled on her chest, catching the sunlight. Without even glancing in his direction, she flicked her hand toward the driver, who nodded and hurried to carry her school bag inside. It was Reina Ayanokoji, the infamous “Ice Queen” of Yutaka Academy.

  “Not even ten minutes in, and I’m already outclassed,” Tatsuya mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. He’d read about Reina in the student council briefing materials—vice president, heir to a corporate empire, and rumored to have a heart as cold as the Arctic. The kind of person who probably wouldn’t even notice if he ceased to exist.

  “Excuse me, are you the scholarship student?” A stern voice interrupted his thoughts.

  Tatsuya turned to find a man in a butler’s uniform staring down at him with an expression that could curdle milk. Behind the butler stood a pair of girls who were clearly trying (and failing) to suppress their laughter. One was petite, with short, fiery red hair and a mischievous grin—Hana Tachibana. The other was tall, with long dark hair tied neatly in a ponytail and a pair of glasses perched on her nose—Miyako Saegusa. Both were wearing the same pristine uniform as Reina, but their contrasting energy was palpable.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” Tatsuya said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

  The butler sniffed. “I’ll escort you to the student council room. Try to keep up.”

  “Thanks, Jeeves,” Tatsuya said under his breath, earning a snort of laughter from Hana.

  “You’re braver than I thought,” Hana said, skipping up to walk beside him. “No one calls Alfred Jeeves to his face. You’re my new favorite person.”

  “Fantastic,” Tatsuya replied dryly. “I’ve been here for five minutes, and I’ve already made an enemy and a fan. A new record.”

  Miyako adjusted her glasses, her sharp gaze appraising him. “Don’t get too comfortable. The council isn’t a charity, and neither is this school. If you’re here to coast by, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

  “Thanks for the warm welcome,” Tatsuya shot back, his sarcasm earning a twitch of surprise from Miyako. He wasn’t sure whether to feel proud or terrified that he’d managed to fluster her.

  By the time they reached the student council room, Tatsuya’s nerves were frayed. He hadn’t expected to feel like an exhibit in a zoo, but the judgmental stares of passing students had made it clear: he was an outsider. And no amount of confidence could change that.

  The door to the council room swung open, revealing a space that looked more like a royal lounge than a school office. Velvet sofas, gilded mirrors, and a crystal chandelier that probably cost more than his entire apartment set the tone. Sitting on one of the sofas, sipping tea as if she were in a Victorian drama, was Sayuri Nishimura. Her elegant demeanor was offset by the faint smirk playing on her lips, as if she found the very concept of Tatsuya amusing.

  “You’re late,” Reina said, standing at the head of the room. Her icy glare could have frozen the chandelier mid-swing. “Not exactly the first impression I was hoping for from our new president.”

  Tatsuya set his bag down and crossed his arms, meeting her gaze with a calm defiance. “Sorry, I got held up admiring the golden statues on the way in. Did you know you guys have a griffin made entirely out of diamonds? It’s subtle, really.”

  Hana burst out laughing, while Sayuri’s smirk widened into a grin. Even Miyako’s lips twitched, though she quickly masked it with a cough. Reina, however, was unimpressed.

  “Let’s make one thing clear,” she said, her voice cutting through the laughter like a blade. “This is my council. If you’re going to be part of it, you’ll follow my rules.”

  Tatsuya raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was the president.”

  “You’re the figurehead,” Reina shot back. “Prove you’re more than that, and maybe you’ll earn my respect.”

  “Oh, good. A challenge,” Tatsuya said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Just what I needed on my first day.”

  The room fell silent as Reina and Tatsuya stared each other down. For a moment, the tension was so thick it could have been cut with a butter knife. Then Hana clapped her hands, breaking the spell.

  “Well, this is gonna be fun!” she said cheerfully. “Welcome to the council, Prez. You’re gonna need all the luck you can get.”

  Tatsuya took a slow breath, letting Reina’s frosty stare roll off him like water off a duck’s back. He didn’t come all this way to be intimidated by someone who probably had a private butler just for her shoes. If Yutaka Academy wanted him to be the figurehead president of this circus, then fine—but he wasn’t about to let someone else pull his strings.

  “Well, Vice President Reina,” Tatsuya said, emphasizing her title with a smirk, “you’ll be pleased to know I don’t intend to sit around and let this council run itself into the ground. I’m here to work, not play.”

  Hana clapped dramatically. “Ooh, I like him already! Finally, someone who talks back to the Queen!”

  “Silence,” Reina snapped, her icy glare slicing toward Hana, who responded by pretending to zip her lips and throw away the key. “If you’re here to ‘work,’ Kuroda, then start proving it. The council doesn’t have time to babysit someone who—” she paused, her gaze flicking briefly to his worn blazer, “—doesn’t belong.”

  The words stung more than Tatsuya expected, but he refused to show it. Instead, he shrugged casually, meeting her gaze head-on. “Don’t worry, I’m house-trained. Now, are you going to tell me what the council actually does, or do you prefer to stand around making dramatic speeches all day?”

  Reina opened her mouth to retort, but Sayuri chuckled softly, cutting her off. “You’re brave, Kuroda-kun,” she said, her tone teasing yet oddly approving. “It’s been a while since anyone’s dared to speak to Reina like that. It’s…refreshing.”

  “And mildly suicidal,” Miyako muttered, her sharp eyes narrowing as she adjusted her glasses. “Don’t think for a second that your sarcasm will get you far here, scholarship boy.”

  “Great,” Tatsuya said with a sigh. “I’m already collecting nicknames.”

  “Can we stop with the boring drama and get to the fun part?” Hana piped up, bouncing in place with an infectious energy that stood in stark contrast to the tension in the room. “Let’s tell Prez about the big festival coming up! That’s your first project, right? It’s, like, a huge deal!”

  “Festival?” Tatsuya asked, his brow furrowing.

  Reina folded her arms, clearly annoyed by the interruption but willing to use it to redirect the conversation. “The Yutaka Cultural Festival is the academy’s most prestigious event of the year. Every club and organization is expected to contribute, and the student council oversees everything.”

  “Oversees?” Tatsuya repeated, his gut already twisting. “You mean plans, organizes, and manages?”

  “Details,” Sayuri said with a delicate wave of her hand. “The important thing is that it’s a glamorous spectacle. Yutaka Academy’s reputation is at stake.”

  “Great,” Tatsuya deadpanned. “First day on the job, and I’m already knee-deep in a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “It’s only a disaster if you’re incompetent,” Reina said, her tone daring him to falter.

  Tatsuya bit back a retort, his mind already racing. The festival sounded like a logistical nightmare, especially if this council was as disorganized as they seemed. But he wasn’t about to back down. If Reina wanted proof of his competence, then he’d deliver it—even if it killed him.

  “Fine,” he said finally. “Tell me what needs to be done, and I’ll make it happen.”

  “You’re awfully confident for someone who hasn’t even seen the festival planning manual yet,” Miyako said, pushing her glasses higher on her nose. “It’s over a hundred pages long, by the way.”

  “Wonderful. I love light reading,” Tatsuya replied, his sarcasm earning a chuckle from Hana.

  Reina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she already regretted this arrangement. “Let’s just get this over with. Miyako, give him the manual. Hana, stop laughing and get the planning board. Sayuri—”

  “Tea?” Sayuri interrupted, holding up her porcelain teacup with a playful smile. “I’d offer him a cup, but I’m afraid our president might choke.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Tatsuya muttered, watching as Miyako retrieved a thick binder from a cabinet and dropped it onto the table with a resounding thud.

  “There you go, Mr. President,” Miyako said with a smirk. “Happy reading.”

  Tatsuya stared at the binder, the weight of his new responsibilities settling on his shoulders like a lead blanket. For a brief moment, he considered walking out the door and never looking back. But then he remembered his mother’s tired smile as she’d handed him his freshly ironed blazer that morning. He couldn’t fail—not for her sake, and not for himself.

  “Alright,” he said, straightening his back and picking up the binder. “Let’s see what I’m working with.”

  Hana leaned over his shoulder, her bright eyes scanning the first page. “Whoa, that looks super boring. Are you sure you can handle it, Prez?”

  “I don’t have much of a choice,” Tatsuya replied, flipping to the second page. “But if you’re offering to help…”

  Hana’s face lit up. “Really? You want my help?”

  Tatsuya glanced at Reina, who looked moments away from a headache. “Sure. Who better to guide me through this mess than my new number-one fan?”

  “Yay! I’m his favorite already!” Hana cheered, skipping around the table.

  “She’s hopeless,” Miyako muttered, earning an exasperated sigh from Reina.

  “Enough,” Reina said, her voice cutting through the noise. “If you’re serious about proving yourself, Kuroda, then get started. The festival is less than a month away, and this council is already behind schedule.”

  “Don’t worry, Vice President Reina,” Tatsuya said, smirking as he hefted the binder under one arm. “I’ll make sure your council doesn’t embarrass itself.”

  Reina’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her posture as regal as ever. Sayuri followed with a soft laugh, while Miyako stayed behind, watching Tatsuya with a critical eye.

  As the door closed behind Reina, Hana leaned closer to Tatsuya, her voice low but conspiratorial. “She’s scary, huh? But don’t worry—I’ve got your back, Prez.”

  Tatsuya gave her a sideways glance. “That’s…comforting, I think.”

  “Trust me,” Hana said, grinning. “You’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

  And as Tatsuya stared at the mountain of work ahead of him, he couldn’t help but agree.

  The student council room settled into an uneasy quiet after Reina’s dramatic exit. Sayuri and Miyako had followed shortly after, leaving Tatsuya with only Hana, who remained perched at the edge of the table, swinging her legs like a carefree child. Tatsuya, binder in hand, slumped onto one of the luxurious velvet couches. He opened the manual to the first page and immediately regretted it.

  “I wasn’t joking about this being light reading,” Tatsuya muttered, staring at the wall of text. Charts, diagrams, and endless lists of responsibilities stared back at him like a smug, condescending professor.

  “What’s wrong, Prez?” Hana asked, leaning over his shoulder again, her short red hair brushing against his cheek. “Too much to handle?”

  Tatsuya sighed. “If I wanted to drown in paperwork, I would’ve just gotten a job as an office clerk. What is all this?”

  “It’s everything,” Hana said, throwing her arms wide. “Budgets, schedules, inventory lists—ooh, look, there’s even a page about decorations!”

  Tatsuya raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know what’s on the list, or are you just pretending to read it?”

  Hana gasped, clutching her chest like he’d wounded her. “How rude! I can totally read serious stuff! Like…um…” She squinted at the page. “This part about…uh…budgering?”

  “Budgeting,” Tatsuya corrected, deadpan. “It’s called budgeting.”

  “Right, that!” Hana said, laughing nervously. “See? I knew that.”

  Tatsuya shook his head. “You’re hopeless.”

  “Hey! I’m not hopeless!” Hana pouted, puffing out her cheeks. “I’m, like, super helpful! I even wrote my own name on a form once!”

  “That’s…impressive,” Tatsuya said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

  “Thanks, Senpai!” Hana chirped.

  Tatsuya froze mid-page turn. “…What did you just call me?”

  “Senpai,” Hana repeated, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re my senpai now! You’re older than me, right?”

  Tatsuya blinked, trying to process her sudden shift in tone. “Yeah, I guess? I’m a third-year.”

  Hana gasped again, her eyes sparkling with what could only be described as pure, unfiltered excitement. “Oh my gosh, I knew it! You’re officially my senpai! This is perfect!”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Tatsuya rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think that’s how this works—”

  “Nope, it’s official now!” Hana interrupted, bouncing up and down in place. “Senpai Tatsuya! Prez-Senpai! Kuroda-Senpai! Ooh, which one do you like best?”

  “None of them,” Tatsuya said flatly.

  “Okay, Kuroda-Senpai it is!” Hana declared, ignoring his protests entirely. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the best kouhai ever! I’ll follow you everywhere, and I’ll take notes, and I’ll—wait, what do kouhais do again?”

  “Apparently, annoy their senpais,” Tatsuya muttered.

  Hana tilted her head, completely unfazed by his sarcasm. “Wow, you’re really good at this whole senpai thing, Kuroda-Senpai. You’re, like, so wise!”

  “I’m not wise, I’m tired,” Tatsuya said, flipping another page in the binder.

  “Same thing,” Hana said with a giggle. “Anyway, now that I’m your official kouhai, you can count on me to help with the festival! I’ll, uh…” She paused, tapping her chin. “Oh! I can decorate! I’m super good at glitter!”

  Tatsuya lowered the binder and stared at her. “Glitter?”

  “Yup! Glitter fixes everything!” Hana said with the utmost sincerity.

  “Great. I’ll remember that when the budget doesn’t add up,” Tatsuya said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

  “Exactly!” Hana said, completely missing the tone. “See? You get me, Senpai!”

  Tatsuya leaned back against the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was beginning to understand why Reina always looked like she was on the verge of a migraine. If the rest of the council was anything like Hana, he was going to need an industrial-sized bucket of patience to survive.

  “Alright,” he said finally, sitting up and closing the binder with a decisive thud. “If you’re so eager to help, let’s start small. Go grab the festival budget forms from the cabinet over there.”

  “Roger that!” Hana said with a mock salute. She dashed over to the cabinet and yanked it open, rummaging through the files with the enthusiasm of a squirrel searching for acorns.

  A few seconds later, she spun around, holding a stack of papers triumphantly over her head. “Got it!”

  Tatsuya’s relief was short-lived. As Hana marched back to the table, the stack of papers slipped out of her grasp, scattering across the floor like oversized confetti.

  “Oops,” Hana said, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. “Uh…my bad?”

  Tatsuya groaned, already moving to pick up the mess. “How are you this airheaded?”

  “It’s a gift,” Hana said proudly, crouching down to help. She grabbed a page, studied it for a moment, then held it up. “Hey, is this the budget? Or is it, like, a shopping list? It says something about ‘supplies.’”

  “That’s the budget,” Tatsuya said, snatching the page from her hands. “And if you spill coffee on it, I’m going to lose what’s left of my sanity.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t even drink coffee!” Hana said cheerfully. “Too bitter. I’m more of a hot chocolate girl.”

  Tatsuya stared at her for a moment, then sighed. “Of course you are.”

  As they finished gathering the papers, Hana grinned up at him. “See? We make a great team, Senpai!”

  Tatsuya couldn’t help but laugh under his breath. “If by ‘great team,’ you mean ‘walking disaster,’ then sure.”

  “Aw, you’re so nice!” Hana said, completely missing the sarcasm again.

  Tatsuya shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. For all her clumsiness and lack of focus, Hana’s boundless energy was oddly contagious. Maybe having her as his self-declared kouhai wouldn’t be so bad after all—though he wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

  “Alright, Hana,” he said, standing up and dusting off his hands. “If you’re done causing chaos, let’s get to work.”

  “Yes, Kuroda-Senpai!” Hana said with a mock bow. “Lead the way!”

  And as they dove into the mountain of festival prep, Tatsuya couldn’t shake the feeling that his life had just gotten a lot more complicated—and maybe a little more interesting.

  The rest of Tatsuya’s first day at Yutaka Academy passed in a blur of meetings, paperwork, and enough bickering between the council members to fill an entire reality show season. By the time the sun began to set, painting the sprawling campus in hues of gold and crimson, Tatsuya was running on sheer willpower. He hadn’t even had time to eat lunch, and his stomach growled like an angry bear as he closed the binder for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

  "Alright, Prez-Senpai!” Hana said brightly, leaning over the table with a grin that refused to fade. “What’s next? You wanna go grab snacks? Ooh! We could totally raid the vending machines together! It’ll be, like, our first official senpai-kouhai mission!”

  “I think I’m good,” Tatsuya replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was far too tired to deal with Hana’s unrelenting energy, though a part of him secretly appreciated her determination to keep him entertained. “You should probably head home. Don’t you have homework or something?”

  “Homework?” Hana repeated, blinking as if the word was foreign to her. “Oh, right. That’s still a thing.” She laughed nervously, waving a hand. “Nah, it can wait. Besides, I’m totally free for the rest of the day! Aren’t you lucky?”

  Tatsuya gave her a look that perfectly conveyed how unlucky he felt. “Yeah, lucky me.”

  Before Hana could launch into another tangent, the door creaked open, and the butler—Alfred, as Tatsuya had learned earlier—strode into the room with his usual air of superiority.

  “Kuroda-san,” Alfred said, his tone as crisp as his uniform. “I’ve been instructed to escort you to your dormitory. Please follow me.”

  Tatsuya rose from his seat with a sigh of relief, slinging his frayed school bag over one shoulder. “Finally. Lead the way, Jeeves.”

  Alfred’s left eye twitched, but he said nothing, simply turning on his heel and marching out the door.

  “Oh! Oh! I’m coming too!” Hana chirped, skipping after them before Tatsuya could protest.

  “Hana, don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Tatsuya asked, trailing behind her as they followed Alfred down the hallway.

  “Nope!” Hana said cheerfully, spinning on her heel to walk backward so she could face him. “You’re my senpai now, remember? I’ve gotta stick with you so we can bond and stuff!”

  “Bond?” Tatsuya repeated, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yep! Like, best-friend bonding! You and me, Prez-Senpai—together forever!” Hana spread her arms wide for emphasis, nearly colliding with a passing student.

  “Watch where you’re going,” Tatsuya said, pulling her out of the way before disaster could strike.

  “Oops! Thanks, Senpai!” Hana said, completely unfazed.

  Tatsuya sighed. “You’re going to give me gray hair before I graduate.”

  As they stepped outside, the cool evening breeze hit Tatsuya’s face, refreshing him slightly. The path to the dormitories was lined with cherry blossom trees, their branches swaying gently in the wind. Lanterns illuminated the walkway, casting a soft, golden glow that made the campus feel almost magical.

  “Wow,” Tatsuya muttered, unable to hide his amazement. “This place really doesn’t hold back, does it?”

  “It’s super pretty, huh?” Hana said, clasping her hands behind her back as she skipped alongside him. “Wait until spring—these trees look like a pink explosion! Oh, and the dorms are, like, crazy fancy. You’re gonna love it!”

  Tatsuya didn’t share her enthusiasm. He’d seen photos of the dormitories during his orientation, and they’d looked more like luxury apartments than student housing. The idea of living in such extravagance made him uncomfortable—it felt like playing dress-up in someone else’s life.

  When they finally reached the dorms, Tatsuya stopped in his tracks, his jaw dropping slightly. Even knowing what to expect hadn’t prepared him for the sight before him. The building was a towering masterpiece of modern architecture, with sleek glass walls and elegant balconies that overlooked a pristine courtyard. The entrance alone looked like it belonged to a five-star hotel, complete with a chandelier and marble flooring visible through the glass doors.

  “Is this…really a dormitory?” Tatsuya asked, staring up at the building in disbelief.

  “Yup!” Hana said, spinning in a circle as if to show it off. “Isn’t it awesome? Oh, oh! You’re gonna love the rooms—they’re, like, huge!”

  “Please tell me there’s at least one normal thing about this school,” Tatsuya muttered.

  “Your room has a private mini-fridge!” Hana offered, as if that was a helpful answer.

  Alfred cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “Kuroda-san, your room is on the top floor. I’ve taken the liberty of ensuring it’s properly stocked with essentials. Please refrain from unnecessary noise, as the dormitory is home to many distinguished individuals.”

  “Noted,” Tatsuya said, though he doubted Alfred would be impressed by his sincerity.

  “Wait, the top floor?” Hana asked, her eyes widening. “You’re in the penthouse, Senpai? That’s, like, the best room!”

  “Penthouse?” Tatsuya repeated, his stomach sinking. “What happened to ‘humble scholarship housing’?”

  “Yutaka Academy doesn’t do ‘humble,’” Alfred said with a faint smirk.

  Hana grabbed Tatsuya’s arm, bouncing excitedly. “Come on, let’s go see! I wanna see how fancy your room is!”

  “Don’t you have your own dorm to go to?” Tatsuya asked, though he didn’t bother resisting as she dragged him toward the elevator.

  “I’ll go later!” Hana said, waving him off. “Right now, it’s all about you, Senpai!”

  Tatsuya sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is going to be a long year.”

  The elevator ride to the top floor was mercifully short, though Tatsuya spent most of it trying (and failing) to convince Hana to leave. When they finally stepped out into the penthouse hallway, Tatsuya felt his unease grow. The air here was different—quieter, heavier, as if the very atmosphere demanded sophistication.

  Alfred stopped in front of a double door with golden handles, pulling out a keycard and handing it to Tatsuya. “Your room, Kuroda-san. Please make use of it wisely.”

  Tatsuya nodded, taking the keycard and swiping it against the reader. The doors clicked open, and as they swung inward, Tatsuya was greeted by a sight that nearly knocked the air out of him.

  The room was enormous, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The furniture was sleek and modern, with a massive sectional couch, a glass coffee table, and a bed that looked more comfortable than anything Tatsuya had ever seen. The kitchen was fully equipped with high-end appliances, and there was even a balcony with a small seating area.

  “Whoa,” Hana breathed, stepping inside and spinning in a circle. “This is, like, a hotel suite! No, better than a hotel! Prez-Senpai, you’re so lucky!”

  Tatsuya stood frozen in the doorway, his bag slipping off his shoulder. “…This isn’t a dorm room. This is a crime against common sense.”

  Hana giggled. “Don’t be shy, Senpai! You should totally own it! You’re, like, living the dream now!”

  Tatsuya sighed, stepping inside and setting his bag down by the couch. “Yeah, sure. Living the dream.”

  As Hana flopped onto the couch, exclaiming over how soft it was, Tatsuya leaned against the kitchen counter, staring out the window. For a moment, the view distracted him from his thoughts, but the weight of the day soon settled back onto his shoulders.

  “Don’t overthink it, Senpai!” Hana called from the couch, her voice cheerful as ever. “You’ve got this! And if you need help, I’m always around!”

  Tatsuya chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “Thanks, Hana. I think.”

  And as the city lights began to twinkle in the distance, Tatsuya couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for him at Yutaka Academy—and how much chaos Hana was going to bring into his life.

  The penthouse had been quiet for about thirty seconds. That’s how long it took before Hana, who had made herself at home on the massive sectional couch, started poking around like an excited child in a toy store.

  “Whoa, Senpai!” she called out, opening one of the kitchen cabinets. “You’ve got, like, a million snacks in here! They even stocked it with instant ramen! This is the dream!”

  Tatsuya, who had been unzipping his bag and placing his worn-out textbooks on the sleek glass coffee table, glanced over. “I’d hardly call instant ramen a ‘dream.’”

  “Don’t underestimate the power of midnight noodles, Kuroda-Senpai,” Hana said, pulling out a cup of ramen and holding it up triumphantly. “This could save your life one day!”

  Tatsuya shook his head, grabbing the cup from her and putting it back. “If you’re planning to eat my food, you could at least ask first.”

  “Sorry, Senpai,” Hana said, though the playful grin on her face made it clear she wasn’t sorry at all. “But, like, you have so much! It’s like you’re a prince or something!”

  “A prince?” Tatsuya said, leaning against the counter. “I’m pretty sure this room is the closest I’ll ever get to that.”

  “Hey, you’ve got the penthouse,” Hana pointed out, plopping down on one of the barstools by the counter. “That’s basically royalty status! You should, like, embrace it. Be all, ‘I’m Tatsuya Kuroda, King of the Council!’”

  “Yeah, no thanks,” Tatsuya replied, crossing his arms. “I’d rather survive my first week without making a fool of myself.”

  Hana pouted, resting her chin on her hands. “Aw, you’re no fun, Senpai. You gotta live a little! I mean, look at this place! It’s so fancy! You could totally throw a party here!”

  “Do I look like the kind of person who throws parties?” Tatsuya asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Well…no,” Hana admitted, tilting her head thoughtfully. “You’re more of the ‘quiet book guy’ type. Oh! Or maybe the ‘mysterious loner who secretly has a tragic backstory’ type!”

  Tatsuya stared at her. “Do you ever think before you speak?”

  “Not really,” Hana said with a sheepish laugh. “My brain and my mouth kind of have a…freeform relationship.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Tatsuya muttered.

  Hana hopped off the barstool and began wandering around the penthouse again, her energy seemingly limitless despite the long day. She peeked into the bedroom, let out a dramatic gasp at the size of the bed, and then wandered onto the balcony, pressing her hands against the glass railing.

  “Senpai, check this out!” she called. “The view is, like, amazing!”

  Tatsuya sighed but followed her out onto the balcony. The city skyline stretched out before them, a sea of glittering lights that seemed to go on forever. The air was cool, and the faint hum of traffic far below added to the serene atmosphere.

  “It’s something, huh?” Hana said, her voice softer than usual as she leaned against the railing. “I mean, it’s so…big. And shiny. Kinda makes you feel small, you know?”

  Tatsuya glanced at her, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. For a moment, she wasn’t the hyperactive airhead who had spent the entire day driving him up the wall. Instead, she looked almost wistful, her gaze distant as she took in the view.

  “Yeah,” Tatsuya said quietly, leaning against the railing beside her. “It does.”

  They stood in silence for a while, the city lights reflecting in their eyes. Tatsuya found himself relaxing for the first time all day, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily forgotten.

  “Hey, Senpai?” Hana said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, turning to him with a bright smile. “Yutaka Academy can be kinda…intense, you know? But you’re, like, super cool and chill, and I feel like you’re gonna make this year way more fun.”

  Tatsuya blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her tone. “Thanks, I guess. But you might be overestimating me.”

  “No way!” Hana said, shaking her head. “You’re, like, the perfect Prez-Senpai! I can already tell!”

  Tatsuya chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’ve got some high expectations. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

  “You won’t,” Hana said confidently. “And even if you do, I’ll still be your number-one kouhai, so don’t worry!”

  “Great,” Tatsuya said, rolling his eyes. “Something to look forward to.”

  Hana laughed, the sound light and infectious, and for a moment, Tatsuya found himself smiling despite himself. Maybe having her around wouldn’t be so bad after all—though he had no doubt she’d test his patience on a daily basis.

  “All right, Hana,” Tatsuya said, stepping back toward the door. “It’s getting late. Don’t you think it’s time you head to your own dorm?”

  Hana tilted her head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm…maybe. But I could totally stay and keep you company! We could have, like, a sleepover!”

  “Nope,” Tatsuya said immediately, shooing her back inside. “Go home.”

  “Aww, you’re no fun, Senpai,” Hana whined, but she allowed herself to be gently guided toward the door. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this is the end of my kouhai duties! I’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early!”

  “Looking forward to it,” Tatsuya said dryly as he opened the door for her.

  “Goodnight, Senpai!” Hana called, waving as she skipped down the hallway.

  Tatsuya watched her go, shaking his head in disbelief. Closing the door, he leaned against it with a sigh. The penthouse was quiet again, but her presence lingered, like a burst of chaotic energy that refused to be ignored.

  As he made his way to the bedroom, he glanced out the window one last time, the city lights twinkling in the distance. He wasn’t sure what the next day would bring, but one thing was certain: with Hana around, life at Yutaka Academy was going to be anything but boring.

  Tatsuya collapsed onto the massive bed, sinking into the impossibly soft mattress as if it were swallowing him whole. He stared up at the ceiling, still adjusting to the sheer luxury surrounding him. Everything in the penthouse felt surreal—like he’d stepped into a dream world that wasn’t his own.

  But as comfortable as the bed was, sleep didn’t come easily. The silence, broken only by the faint hum of the city below, gave his thoughts too much room to wander. He couldn’t stop replaying the events of the day: the judgmental stares, the council’s chaos, Reina’s cutting words, and—of course—Hana’s boundless energy.

  He sighed, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes. Just make it through the year, he reminded himself. One step at a time.

  Eventually, exhaustion pulled him under, and the world around him dissolved into darkness.

  The dream began, as it always did, with the sound of rain.

  Tatsuya was back in the tiny apartment where he’d grown up, the walls cracked and the roof leaking in two different places. He was sitting on the floor, clutching a schoolbook, while his mother bustled about the cramped kitchen. The rain pattered against the window, and the faint chill of winter crept in through the poorly insulated walls.

  “Tatsuya, dinner’s ready,” his mother said, setting a steaming bowl of miso soup on the low table. Her voice was warm, but tired—so tired.

  “Coming,” Tatsuya said, closing the book and scooting closer to the table.

  His mother smiled at him, her face lined with worry but filled with affection. Her hands were rough from years of working double shifts, her fingers calloused from scrubbing floors and washing dishes in endless cycles. She’d given up everything for him—her dreams, her health, and most of her happiness.

  “Did you finish your homework?” she asked, sitting down across from him.

  “Yeah,” Tatsuya lied. He’d been too distracted by the latest argument with his father to focus.

  As if summoned by the thought, the door to the apartment slammed open, and his father stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. Tatsuya flinched instinctively, his grip tightening on the chopsticks in his hand.

  “Why’s it so damn cold in here?” his father growled, kicking off his shoes with little care. “What, you too cheap to turn on the heat?”

  “We’re trying to save money,” his mother said calmly, though Tatsuya could see the tension in her shoulders. “It’s been a hard month.”

  “It’s always a hard month,” his father snapped, slamming a fist against the wall. “And whose fault is that, huh? You think it’s mine? I’m the one keeping this roof over our heads, you ungrateful—”

  “That’s enough,” Tatsuya’s mother said quietly, but firmly. Her voice, though soft, carried a weight that silenced even his father.

  Tatsuya kept his head down, staring at his half-empty bowl. He knew better than to look up when his father was like this.

  The dream shifted, as dreams often did, and suddenly Tatsuya was older—around twelve years old—sitting in the same apartment, though the cracks in the walls seemed wider now. His father’s voice echoed faintly in the background, but it was his mother who held his attention.

  She was kneeling in front of him, holding out a freshly ironed uniform.

  “This scholarship is your chance, Tatsuya,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re smart, and you work so hard. You can make something of yourself—something better than this.”

  “But what about you?” Tatsuya asked, his chest tight.

  “I’ll be fine,” his mother said, smiling even as tears welled up in her eyes. “If you succeed, that’s enough for me. So promise me, Tatsuya—promise me you’ll do your best.”

  Tatsuya nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He’d seen the sacrifices she made every day to keep him in school, to put food on the table, to shield him from the worst of his father’s outbursts. The weight of her dreams—and her struggles—pressed down on him like a physical force, and he swore to himself that he’d carry that weight, no matter how heavy it became.

  The dream shifted again, this time to the day he’d left for Yutaka Academy.

  His mother stood at the train station, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her smile was bright, but her eyes betrayed the worry she tried so hard to hide.

  “You’ll be okay,” she said, adjusting the collar of his blazer. “I know you will.”

  Tatsuya nodded, forcing himself to smile back. “I’ll make you proud.”

  “You already have,” she said, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’ve always made me proud.”

  The train’s whistle sounded, and Tatsuya reluctantly stepped away, grabbing his bag and boarding the train. As it pulled away from the station, he watched her figure grow smaller and smaller, until she disappeared entirely.

  Tatsuya woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat up, rubbing his face with his hands as the remnants of the dream faded away. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains.

  He let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. The weight of his memories lingered, a heavy reminder of why he was here and what was at stake.

  You’ve always made me proud.

  Her words echoed in his mind, both a comfort and a burden. He couldn’t afford to fail—not after everything she’d sacrificed for him.

  Tatsuya lay back down, staring at the ceiling as the minutes ticked by. Sleep didn’t return easily, but when it finally did, it was lighter and less troubled.