Kazehara Tetsu returned to his bunk.
One corner of his pillow was raised slightly. Ordinary people might have overlooked such a subtle distortion, but it hadn't escaped his notice.
"...Um, Ishikura Senpai came by just now and slipped something under your pillow."
The boy in the neighboring bunk lowered his voice and leaned closer.
He pointed at the pillow.
"I know."
Kazehara Tetsu showed no surprise.
He reached under the pillow and pulled out a page torn from a notebook.
He unfolded it.
"25."
There was no signature, but this obviously hadn't been Ishikura's idea.
As for who was behind it, that went without saying.
Kazehara Tetsu showed no particular expression.
He casually crumpled the note. Instead of throwing it away, he slipped it into his sweatpants pocket.
He picked up a book from his bedside, sat cross-legged, and began reading under the dim yellow light.
The others' gazes gathered around him, now and then. Everyone was guessing what the note said.
Lights-out time arrived.
The light in the center of the room went out.
Darkness flooded the entire space, with only the moonlight outside faintly outlining the room.
For modern young people accustomed to city nightlife, eleven at night was no more than the start of the evening.
Social media notifications on their phone screens—that was what they were used to before falling asleep.
But here, all of that had been forcibly taken away.
"Ah... I'm so bored..."
Someone let out a despairing whisper in the darkness.
"I want to scroll on my phone..."
Whispers of idle chatter rose and fell like the buzzing of mosquitoes, carrying the restlessness typical of teenage boys.
But this kind of pointless conversation was bound to peter out in the dark.
Ten minutes.
Twenty minutes.
The chatter gradually dwindled.
The whole room fell