Logbook

It’s the fourteenth of February, and stacks of unread papers, parked next to an innocuous box wrapped in red and black with a full golden bow on its head, sit on the table in the student council meeting room. The documents go untouched and unnoticed as the bodies surrounding them chatter away in hushed voices (though one, not so much), only to go silent when Sekreuz enters to witness Nil’s veneer of irritation and Sai’s wild gestures while Bathory smirks wryly in amusement.

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