The dining hall had long since been empty. Only the clatter of dishes from the kitchen and the faint hum of the lamps remained. Ayato sat across from Ishikawa-sensei at the low table, both with half-empty glasses, the warmth of the drink taking the edge off the long day.

“Tell me a little more about Takahaya,” Ayato said after a pause. His tone was even, professional, though his eyes didn’t leave the rim of his glass.

“What exactly do you want to know?” she asked, tilting her head.

“In his file it says he’s registered as an omega with a special status.”

“Yes,” Ishikawa-sensei nodded. “He grew up without parents. He lives with his grandmother, and because of that, he’s listed as a lone omega.”

“So… he really has no guardians,” Ayato murmured, half to himself. The words sounded almost like confirmation of what Yahiko had told him in the nurse’s office.

He set his glass down. “From a health perspective – are there any concerns?”

“Not with him, personally,” she replied. “He studies well, never causes trouble, and he even serves as president of the Readers’ Club. There were no issues in middle school either. But…”

Ayato raised a brow. “But what?”

“His status,” Ishikawa-sensei said quietly. “Without realizing it, he draws attention to himself. His lack of belonging, no origin, unsettles others  – especially those sensitive to pheromones. You know this better than most.” She glanced at him meaningfully.

Ayato’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Perhaps. But I’ve never met a lone omega in person. Only heard stories… and according to those, none of them ever achieved much.”

“Exactly,” she sighed. “Which is why it’s such a pity. He’s a good kid, smart, motivated – unlike so many others who are content to sit back and hope some wealthy alpha takes them in after school.”

Ayato leaned back, thoughtful. “So when spring comes… that cycle could be fatal for him.”

Ishikawa-sensei’s eyes lowered to her empty glass. “Most likely.”

Silence hung between them for a moment. Finally, she gave a dry little laugh. “Well, that kills the mood. I don’t even feel like drinking anymore.”

“And the beer’s gone anyway,” Ayato added, managing a faint smile.

“Then we should call it a night.”

***

The sun pressed down hard, cicadas buzzing in the trees on either side of the trail. The line of students stretched along the path, voices rising and falling like birdsong.

“Selfie!” one of the girls squealed, pulling two others into the frame of her phone.

“It’s so hot… When are we getting a break?” another groaned, tugging at her straps.

“Come on, everyone!” Ishikawa-sensei called from the front. “We’re almost there, just a few more minutes!”

Shin groaned, shaking his empty bottle. “Seriously, who thought a midday hike was a good idea? Oh, no… …Ugh. Out of water.”

“Here. Take mine.” Yahiko handed over a nearly full bottle.

Shin blinked. “You didn’t drink?”

“Not thirsty.” Yahiko shrugged. “It’s only been an hour. The climb’s not even that hard yet. How are you tired already?”

“I’m not tired,” Shin said quickly, walking backwards so he could grin at him. “I just didn’t get enough sleep.”

“You slept half the morning.” Yahiko raised his brows, smiling.

“That doesn’t count!” Shin laughed, spinning back around as the chatter of students echoed up the mountainside.

That morning was free. Some students lingered in bed, others slipped off to the hot springs or booked massages, and a few just lounged in their rooms, chatting lazily. After lunch the group set out for the mountains. The plan was simple: hike, share dinner, watch the stars, then spend the night in a rented lodge before returning the next morning.

When the path finally broke into open ground, Ishikawa-sensei raised her arm with a broad smile. “Here we are! I told you it wasn’t far!”

A wooden house stood in the middle, warm against the green backdrop. The students cheered, shrugging off their backpacks, scattering across the clearing. Some posed for photos, others stretched out on the grass, their voices filling the open space. Meanwhile, the teacher and the school nurse lingered near the house, already discussing where to set up the facilities.

Once the plan was settled, everyone jumped into action. The house itself was simple: one wide hall for sleeping, a narrow kitchen tucked to the side. The boys quickly unloaded the provisions onto the table before rushing off to claim the best spots inside.

The routine work began in no time. Some unpacked the food and sorted it neatly, others unrolled futons, smoothing the fabric until it lay neat and straight. A few went off to gather firewood, while the lazier ones stretched out in the fading sun, pretending to supervise.

By twilight, everything was ready. The group gathered around the crackling fire, bowls of instant noodles and rice balls in hand. Conversation rose and fell in bursts of laughter, shadows flickering across smiling faces.

After dinner came silly games – word chains, riddles, dares – and then quieter moments, with stories passed back and forth, each one met with laughter or mock groans. The air was warm, the stars beginning to spill overhead, and the whole camp buzzed with the contentment of a shared evening.

Yahiko and Shin sat on a fallen tree behind the house, just far enough from the others to talk undisturbed. Shin was laughing at something Yahiko had said until the crunch of footsteps broke it. 

“Chatting?” a voice sneered. Three figures emerged from the side path.

“Denji…” Shin muttered, lips curling in disgust.

Yahiko rose to his feet. “We didn’t even cross paths today. What is it this time? What do you want from us?”

Before he could take another step, one of Denji’s friends shoved him lightly back down onto the log. Denji slid in beside him, an arm dropping heavily across Yahiko’s shoulders.

“Listen, little bird,” Denji murmured, his grin widening when Yahiko stiffened. “We all fight sometimes, right? Why don’t we talk it out? Talk like friends for once. Honestly, I think we’d look good together, you and me.”

“You’ve lost it,” Shin snapped, but a hand clamped quickly over his mouth from behind.

Denji leaned closer, voice smooth. “Think about it. I could protect you. No more hiding, no more flinching every time an alpha looks your way. Just… play along with me. We’d both get what we want.”

Shin twisted, muffled protests breaking through. “Mmh—mm!”

Yahiko sat still, listening, his silence heavier than words. 

Denji’s eyes dropped, lingering on Yahiko’s neck. “You know what I’m asking,” he leaned closer, whispering. “You’re smart enough to see it.”

Yahiko finally raised his eyes, steady and unflinching. “I never thought you were that dumb to suggest something like that in the middle of a school trip.”

“I knew you wouldn’t break so easily,” Denji said softly, tilting Yahiko’s face toward Shin. “But that leaves me no choice.”

The change in the air was immediate. It pressed in on Yahiko’s lungs, made his skin prickle. Not a smell, but a weight, a command woven into the air itself. He gritted his teeth, holding on. But worse was Shin. Held fast by one of the boys, he sagged back against the alpha’s chest, breath uneven, his body giving way.

“See?” Denji’s arm coiled around Yahiko’s torso, locking him in place. “You can handle it, but your friend? He can’t. Who knows what might happen in the woods…”