Were we playing some sort of game where the last person to tap with their tail wins?
Shibahime and I lightly slapped each other's tails as we exited the first training hall.
Outside, darkness had already settled. Cold stars glittered in the night sky, and a gentle, dry breeze—heralding the coming November—softly rustled my bangs.
Students who had finished their preparations for the upcoming cultural festival were scattered here and there, heading home. Boys and girls chatted cheerfully, openly flirting. Shameless. Absolutely disgraceful.
"Everyone seems so giddy," I muttered.
"They're probably excited for the Hero Festival," Shibahime replied calmly.
"Kids these days. Maybe I should report them to the disciplinary committee."
"Nobody would take you seriously," she said dryly. "Jealousy from a pitiful shadow dweller won't sway anyone."
Painful, yet true.
I had no revolutionary power.
