—

  —

  This was it. Today was the day. I smoothed the front of my black three-piece suit and adjusted my tie for the third time. The mirror reflected a mix of anticipation and nerves. The suit fit perfectly, just right for tonight’s dinner.

  6:40 p.m.

  Time to go.

  I took a deep breath, pocketed my phone, and stepped into the cool evening air, making my way to Green Tower. At her door, I adjusted my cuffs one last time and knocked gently.

  “I’ll be there,” came Hazel’s voice.

  Moments later, the door opened.

  She stood in a short black chiffon gown, the fabric flowing and hugging her figure just enough. Her bare legs added an elegant edge, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

  “Hey, you’ve been staring for a while,” she said.

  Snapping out of it, I quickly looked away, my face warming. “Sorry... I, uh...” I stammered, fumbling for words as I rubbed the back of my neck.

  What is this feeling? This is a weird sensation. Calm down, Marcus; keep your breathing in check and relax.

  When I finally gathered the courage to look at her again, I saw her cheeks were also tinged pink.

  I straightened up and offered my hand. “Shall we?”

  She composed herself by gently clearing her throat softly, slipping her hand into mine. “Let’s.”

  —

  —

  The administrative building loomed ahead, and as we approached the Special Hall, the muffled sound of music grew clearer. Outside the doors, we spotted Harley and Sullivan, who had just arrived.

  Sullivan looked sharp in a black three-piece suit, white lace-up shoes, and a fake rose in his breast pocket. Harley stood beside him, elegant in a fitted, asymmetric, shoulderless gown.

  

  “It seems they’ve already started,” I said, glancing at the ornate double doors as I sent a quick text. “I’ve informed Arima-sensei we’re here.”

  As if on cue, the music shifted to the track we’d rehearsed.

  “That’s our cue,” Sullivan said, offering his arm to Harley. She nodded and took it, and together they pushed open the doors.

  “Presenting the Student Council Secretary and Treasurer, Sullivan Kramer and Harley Daguchi,” the announcer called out, followed by polite applause.

  Hazel and I stood just outside the doorway, watching them enter. I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “Are you nervous?”

  “A little,” she admitted, eyes fixed ahead. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. What about you?”

  “I feel confident,” I replied, though a small knot of doubt twisted in my stomach. “But I’ve got a feeling tonight’s going to be a ride.”

  Her shoulders relaxed a little as she inhaled deeply and smiled softly. “Whatever it is, we can handle it.”

  The announcer’s voice rang out again, signalling our turn.

  “And presenting the Student Council President and Vice President, Marcus Luna and Hazel Terrell.”

  With our arms linked, we stepped into the hall to a round of applause. The black-and-white décor was striking. Seven round tables, each seating nine, were arranged in a semicircle around a central open space for dancing and activities. Overhead chandeliers highlight crystal glasses and polished cutlery. Caterers in sleek black uniforms moved between tables, serving appetisers.

  As members of the student council, we made our way from table to table, greeting guests with polite smiles. Hazel stayed close as we introduced ourselves to various school staff, teachers, administrators, and accountants, many of whom I was meeting for the first time. Warm handshakes and congratulations followed us through the room.

  Just as we finished our rounds, the announcer’s voice rang out.

  “With esteemed honour, I welcome the following individuals.”

  The room quieted as the doors swung open, and everyone rose to their feet. We, the student council, moved instinctively to the cleared central space, ensuring we were the immediate focus when the distinguished guests entered.

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  “Please welcome the former Student Council President and Vice President, Hotaka Haku and Julian Bush.”

  Haku-senpai entered in a black three-piece suit with subtle pinstripes that shimmered in the light. A crisp white shirt, black tie, and silver cufflinks completed his look. Julian wore a similar outfit.

  Our eyes met briefly. Haku-senpai gave a knowing nod.

  “The Director of Hachin Academy, Mr Furuya Itsuki-sensei.”

  Furuya-sensei followed, displaying a remarkable fusion of tradition and contemporary, wearing a traditional black hakama and white kimono with silver embroidery along the sleeves. A haori draped his shoulders, and his greying hair was neatly combed back.

  Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him in person since the term’s opening ceremony.

  “The Head of the Research Department, Mr Warren Mars,” the announcer said.

  Mr Mars wore a slim white suit with black accents on the cuffs and lapels. A black tie with a silver clip and a subtly patterned vest completed the look. It was only the second time I’d seen him, but his presence carried an undeniable elegance.

  “And finally, the founder of Hachin Academy, Mr Toyoda Fuji-sensei.”

  Toyoda-sensei entered wearing a traditional black montsuki and formal hakama. The soft clack of his geta sandals echoed as he walked.

  With all the distinguished guests present, the atmosphere shifted. This was more than a formal dinner—it was a gathering of Hachin Academy’s most influential figures.

  I glanced at Hazel. Her lips pressed into a thin line, betraying her nerves. As the applause faded, I adjusted my jacket. The night was only beginning.

  —

  —

  Soft classical music from a live quartet mingled with quiet conversation and the clinking of silverware throughout the hall. Despite the lively atmosphere, our table, purposefully set at the back, felt shrouded in tension.

  Toyoda-sensei leaned forward, hands loosely clasped. “Once again, it’s an honour to meet you all.”

  I nodded. “That’s unnecessary, sir; the honour is truly ours. We appreciate you taking the time from your demanding schedules to attend.”

  Across from me, Furuya-sensei adjusted his glasses and took a sip of water. “It’s a celebration of the passing of the torch, a momentous occasion,” he said, his gaze settling on Hazel and me.

  “Haku, Julian,” he added, turning to the former council members beside him. “Are you proud of your successors?”

  Haku-senpai glanced his way. “I’ve spoken with Marcus and his team. I must say, I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far.”

  “Unlike Hotaka, I haven’t had the chance to interact with the group until now,” Julian said. “But I’ve heard plenty about Marcus, and Hazel has a solid reputation. I trust they’ll rise to the occasion when challenges arise.”

  I hadn’t interacted with Julian before, so I couldn’t form a profile on him just yet, and although he didn't seem particularly critical, I could tell he was being cautious.

  The truth hung quietly over the table: this dinner was as much a test as it was a celebration. Every word, every glance, was a measure of Hazel and me. Sullivan and Harley, thankfully, were spared the scrutiny. The fewer variables, the better. I couldn’t control what Hazel might say, but I trusted her judgement implicitly.

  “That’s very good to hear,” Mr Warren Mars said, breaking his silence. “I look forward to seeing what your team accomplishes.”

  “Thank you, sir. We’ll do our best to meet your expectations,” Hazel replied.

  Her words seemed to satisfy the table, and the conversation naturally drifted into more casual topics. I turned to my plate, which had pan-seared salmon with tomato pesto. The golden crust, deep red sauce, and fresh greens reflected the care Harley had taken in choosing the caterers.

  The first bite was a burst of flavour, the tangy pesto balancing the richness of the fish, and Hazel seemed to be enjoying hers too.

  —

  —

  An hour into the event, Harley and Sullivan returned from their rounds just as Toyoda-sensei raised his glass, catching the chandelier’s light.

  “I have a question,” he began, swirling the red wine in his glass. His tone was calm but carried an edge that immediately put me on alert.

  Furuya-sensei leaned back, eyes fixed on him. “Let’s hear it.”

  Hazel glanced at me. I could tell she felt it too; something was coming.

  Toyoda-sensei tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Well, I just wanted to know about your plan for the summer trip you mentioned.”

  Hazel leaned in, her hands resting lightly on the edge of the table.

  “As we said in our speech, we aim to revive the summer trips,” she replied. “We’re aware that organising such a trip for the whole school would be difficult on short notice, so we’re starting with our year.”

  Toyoda-sensei raised an eyebrow, mildly amused. “Won’t you consider that being self-centred, though?”

  I could see why that thought would cross his mind and that of others.

  “Not at all. What would have been self-centred is if we had pushed for only Class 1 to attend. Our goal is to test feasibility. Limiting it to our year makes it more inclusive and gives us a manageable scale to work with. If we can successfully organise a trip for 61 students, we’ll have the framework to expand in the future until the entire school can be included.”

  I let out a quiet breath. Hazel had hit every note perfectly, but I knew this wasn’t over yet.

  “Interesting,” Furuya-sensei said. “But do you know why the school stopped the summer trips in the first place?”

  The question was pivotal. The school’s commitment to academics meant any cancelled tradition, like the summer trip, would have been carefully calculated. I’d once asked Haku-senpai about it, but even he didn’t know the reason.

  “You discovered it wasn’t beneficial to students,” I answered.

  Furuya-sensei nodded. “Correct. A study showed an eight percent drop in test scores across all years after the trips. So, how do you plan to address that?”

  All eyes shifted to me. “We propose integrating the trips into the curriculum instead of making the destinations random. Subjects like World History, Sociology, Global Studies, and Environmental Studies can benefit from on-site experiences.”

  I paused. “Imagine students visiting historical landmarks to bring their history lessons to life or observing ecosystems firsthand for environmental science. This approach ensures the trip becomes more than just recreation—it reinforces learning, aligning with the school’s academic goals.”

  There was a moment of silence as they considered my words. My point was a solid one, and even if they tried to counter it, I had already developed a suitable response, which means checkmate. Toyoda-sensei tilted his head, a hint of approval in his gaze. Mr Warren, who had been silently observing up until now, tapped his fingers lightly on the table before speaking.

  “Very impressive,” he said thoughtfully.

  Toyoda-sensei leaned back and lifted his glass. “Nicely done, both of you. This level of competence and intelligence is exactly what we strive for in our students.”

  

  “Thank you, sir,” I said, inclining my head. Hazel mirrored the gesture.

  The table resumed dining, and I allowed myself a brief moment of calm as dessert arrived: a rich chocolate tart topped with raspberry glaze.