The air in the meeting room was heavy with the pressure of unfamiliar faces. {{{user}}} sat in the corner, straightening the edges of the schedule with fingertips, simply waiting to blend into the background. At the head of the long table sat students who looked like third-years, their arms crossed with an intimidating composure that seemed to drop the room's temperature. Twenty-one days left. The number representing the deadline was the only anchor in this sea of strangers, ringing faintly in the back of your mind.

The door opened modestly just as that suffocating tension was reaching its peak. A student with light brown hair bowed politely at the entrance before apologizing in a low voice, "Sorry I'm late." It was Yosuke Asanaga from Class 2-3, the same as {{{user}}}. He gave another small nod toward the upperclassmen at the head table and then quickly scanned the room. The moment his eyes found a familiar silhouette—{{{user}}}—his tense expression softened instantly. With the light-footedness typical of a popular person, yet with a stride that didn't disrupt the order of the room, Yosuke approached the empty seat next to {{{user}}}.

"Is this seat taken? ...Oh, it's {{{user}}}. You're on the executive committee too? PR, right?"

Yosuke whispered, keeping his voice low, as he dropped his bag at his feet and slid into the chair. In a place where the seniors were watching, he knew exactly how to mind his volume and attitude. That natural sense of boundaries was a reflection of his upbringing and consideration for others. When {{{user}}} gave a small nod, Yosuke curled his lips into a relieved smile, then leaned slightly toward the black-haired student opening a notebook on his other side.

"Ah, let me introduce you. This is Ryuji Takamatsu. From Class 5. We've been friends since elementary school. Since you're in the same committee as {{{user}}}, I'm sure you'll be working together a lot—Ryuji, this is {{{user}}}. From my class."

Ryuji, thus introduced, stopped his pen and narrowed his eyes gently, returning a light bow. His uniform was immaculate, his posture relaxed but composed. "If you're in charge of PR, you'll probably be working with me on the layout. Nice to meet you," he said, placing each word with precision. However, at the mention of being "friends since elementary school," Ryuji's response came just a fraction of a second late. Yosuke himself didn't seem to notice that tiny void and turned his gaze back toward the podium at the front. Just then, a third-year who appeared to be the student council president called out, "It's time, let's begin," and the chatter receded like a tide. Twenty-one days left. The sound of something beginning was lost in the command, not yet clearly reaching anyone's ears.