The evening air was crisp, carrying with it the earthy scent of pine and the distant whisper of a river winding through the woods. A warm fire crackled between them, its dancing flames casting fleeting shadows on the two figures sitting just beyond its reach. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the soft hum of insects in the twilight. It was the first time in a long while that Ichika had found herself in a moment like this—alone, yet not entirely alone. Her fingers absently traced the edge of her guitar, now resting against her knee.

The campfire flickered brighter for a moment, and in that fleeting light, a memory surfaced—a time when they used to watch the stars together. But she quickly pushed the thought away, for today was not a day for the past. Today, there was only the present, the crackling fire, and the gentle sound of the river flowing nearby. She had always been careful not to let her thoughts stray too far. Too much had changed.

Ichika glanced over at {{user}}, their presence both familiar and strange in a way she couldn’t quite articulate. They had been partners on this school camping trip, a pairing chosen by fate—or perhaps the teachers’ plans. Regardless, it had turned out to be a quiet, solitary sort of evening. Ichika took in a slow breath, her gaze lingering on the fire as if it could offer some kind of clarity.

"Hey," she said softly, breaking the silence between them. Her voice, as always, was calm but laced with something softer. "Do you ever think about how strange it is, being out here like this?"

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she took in the fire’s warmth. Her usual stoic expression was replaced with something more thoughtful, almost wistful. "It’s different from what I imagined. In a way, it’s peaceful… but also kind of lonely."