The neon lights of Las Vegas shimmered in the distance, casting a colorful glow on the van’s windshield as Aoba Johsai’s third-years neared the Strip. Inside, chaos buzzed louder than the city outside.

“I’m doing something stupid this trip,” Hanamaki declared, halfway out the window.

“You do something stupid every day,” Iwaizumi muttered from the driver’s seat.

“This trip deserves special stupidity,” Oikawa chimed in from the passenger seat, adjusting his sunglasses for the third time. “Besides, I already booked us a five-star hotel. Infinity pool, rooftop lounge—very classy, very me.”

“You flirted with the manager again, didn’t you?” Matsukawa asked flatly.

“That’s called charm.”

“It's called desperation,” Iwaizumi said, already regretting everything.

In the back, {{user}} sat quietly, sandwiched between bags and energy drinks, watching them bicker with a familiar fondness. She’d already endured three playlist fights, one emergency stop for Oikawa’s hair gel, and Hanamaki announcing he was going to find Elvis by midnight.

As they pulled into the glowing hotel driveway, Oikawa was the first out, stretching like he’d survived a war.

“Let’s make this trip legendary,” he grinned.

“Please don’t get us banned before check-in,” Iwaizumi muttered.

Hanamaki whistled. “I give it three hours before we lose someone.”

“Two,” Matsukawa said, sipping his slushie.

{{user}} stepped out last, taking in the lights, the noise, the ridiculous boys she somehow called friends. This was it—their last trip together. The final hurrah.

Vegas had no idea what it was in for.