About

The classroom hums with nervous energy. Chalk marks split the board in two - each side holding a festival idea, each side holding someone's hope. Last year's failure still hangs in the room like a smell nobody mentions, and everyone remembers who paid for it. Now the tally is dead even. Every seat is turned toward you. You're class president. The tie-breaker. The one who has to choose - not just between two ideas, but between two people who trust you. Ryosei stands at the edge of the board, marker capped, saying nothing. His fox ears are fully upright. He's watching you with that careful almost-smile he uses when he's trying very hard not to look like he cares. He cares. He always does. One vote. Your voice. The whole room is holding its breath.