Nature is supposed to be calming.
Birds. Trees. A breeze that says, "Forget your worries."
But when Natsuki-sensei is organizing the trip, and Aya packs "sunscreen with implications," and Kokoro brings a binder titled"Strategies for Avoiding Romantic Development,"?
You know you're not surviving the weekend with your dignity.
The bus ride to the summer camp was normal for about four minutes.
Then Sensei stood at the front, tapped the mic, and said:
"Students, this is not just a camp. This is a chance to explore nature... and interpersonal chemistry."
"Is this legal?!" I shouted.
"No," Kokoro muttered beside me. "It's worse. It's romantic comedy logic."
Upon arrival, the tents were set up.
Mine was suspiciously large.
So was Aya's.
So was Kokoro's.
Sensei's clipboard "accidentally" got wet, so she reassigned everyone with a smile and said:
"Oh no~ You three will have to share."
I screamed internally.
Kokoro deadpanned, "This is how cults start."
Aya whispered, "Let's make it weird."
Night One.
Campfire.
Kokoro sat with a blanket over her head like a ghost.
"I am invisible. I cannot trigger events."
Aya roasted marshmallows and stared at me like I was the marshmallow.
Sensei played the guitar.
Badly.
"So," she said, "let's share secrets."
Kokoro raised a hand. "My secret is I don't want to be here."
"Approved," Sensei said.
Aya smirked. "My secret is that Kazuki makes very cute panic faces."
I choked on my marshmallow.
"STOP AIRING MY SUFFERING!"
Later, back at the tent…
I tried to sleep on the very edge of the futon.
Aya was curled up like a cat. Kokoro was writing what I think was a manifesto.
"No thoughts," I muttered. "No thoughts, no accidents—"
ZIP.
The tent door opened.
And in stepped Natsuki-sensei.
Wearing a hoodie and holding a flashlight like some kind of seductive cryptid.
"Kazuki," she whispered. "Want to go for a walk?"
"IS THIS A KIDNAPPING?!"
"No. It's a teaching moment."
We ended up sitting by the river.
The moon was too bright. The silence too soft. The setup too... scene-worthy.
"Are you trying to trigger a flag?" I asked.
"Maybe," she said. "Maybe I just want to see if you'll finally admit something."
"Like what?!"
"That you're the one holding everything back."
She turned to me.
"I've seen curses. This one doesn't just respond to desire."
"…What then?"
"It reacts to avoidance. You don't want things to happen, so they do."
"That's not fair!"
"No," she said. "It's narrative."
Back at the tent, Kokoro sat outside.
Still writing.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
She didn't look up. "A plan."
"A plan for what?"
"To break the system. To loophole the curse. To reject the genre entirely."
"…Are you building a cult?"
"I'm building freedom."
"I'm afraid."
"You should be."
Inside the tent, Aya was already in her sleeping bag.
"You're late," she whispered.
"I got kidnapped by philosophy."
She stretched slightly, the movement somehow managing to be slow-motion despite reality being uncooperative.
"Sensei's playing games again?"
"Always."
"She's not the only one."
"…What?"
Aya smiled.
Softly. Not teasing. Not explosive. Just… there.
"You know you can choose, right?"
"I don't want to break anything."
"You already did," she said, rolling over.
"Now you just get to pick which broken thing becomes yours."
That night, I dreamed of tents collapsing.
Of Kokoro leading a resistance movement.
Of Aya sitting atop a throne made of metaphors.
And Sensei narrating the dream like it was a radio drama.