As Sensei approached Gehenna Ward, the air itself seemed to change. The path leading northeast from the Central Ward gradually became more austere. Concrete increased, greenery diminished, and the rusty smell of industrial zones pricked at the nostrils. Sensei walked alone, still dressed in black slacks and a shirt. Three days had passed since Nagisa's notice arrived. ——Never come here again. That handwriting still surfaced occasionally at the back of his eyes. Meticulous. Unwavering. Not written in a fit of rage. That made it cut all the deeper, in silence. (Yet I came anyway.) The Federal Student Council's emergency declaration——that was the reason Sensei was here now. While the declaration remained in effect, Sensei's entry into Gehenna Ward, as Schale's representative, was barely permitted. He had to face this before being driven away. With that thought, he moved his feet forward. He hadn't come to apologize and beg forgiveness. He simply had to come. The main gate of Gehenna General Academy came into view. A cast-iron gate six meters high. Beyond it, clusters of red-brick and black-steel buildings towered——and part of them were charred. Blackened walls. scaffolding under repair. Rubble piled high. The traces of that night were still there. Two discipline committee members stood before the gate. Navy uniforms with armbands. The moment they saw Sensei, both their expressions hardened. "[serious]I'm afraid we cannot permit entry," The rejection came before he could even speak. "You're from Schale, correct? Gehenna Ward is currently restricting outside access under autonomous ordinance," When Sensei produced the Federal Student Council's emergency declaration documents, the committee member accepted them, confirmed the contents, and exchanged a brief glance with the other. Then he spoke into his radio. While waiting, Sensei looked beyond the gate. Dozens of students were moving about. Silently carrying rubble, checking scaffolding, calling out instructions to one another. Their halos——the rings of light above their heads——appeared slightly dimmed, perhaps from exhaustion. Yet not a single one had stopped working. Among them, one person carried a distinctly different presence. Jet-black long hair with red streaks woven through. Dressed in a discipline committee uniform, her spine perfectly straight. Covered in sweat and dust, yet her posture hadn't wavered an inch. Nearly 120 committee members moved at a single word from her. Sayama Nagisa looked this way. Sharp crimson eyes. For just an instant, something seemed to flicker——then, in the next moment, it froze completely. Not anger. Not sadness. Not emotions of that temperature. Something far colder from the depths. Nagisa walked slowly forward. Each step measured and even, showing neither haste nor agitation. She stopped before the gate and looked at Sensei. "[cold]What are you doing here, Sensei?" Her voice was low. Not shouting. Not crying——simply quiet. Within that quietness lay the color of disappointment. Not the inverse of expectation. The voice of someone who no longer held any expectations at all. Sensei opened his mouth. "[serious]Let me apologize," "[cold]That won't be necessary," The response came without hesitation. "Your apology won't restore the burned school buildings. It won't erase the wounds of the injured students. ——That's all there is to it," Sensei had nothing to say. No words came. Because Nagisa was right. At that moment, a male discipline committee member who had been standing behind stepped forward. He appeared slightly younger than Sensei. His eyes were red. "[angry]Because you chose Trinity, our junior is still lying in a hospital bed," His voice was low, spat out like venom. "Remember that much when you leave," Sensei could neither nod nor shake his head. The committee member called Kloto stepped back under Nagisa's gaze. Nagisa said nothing, simply turned on her heel and returned to directing the restoration work. Sensei remained standing there. He hadn't been driven away. But he wasn't welcomed either. Sensei thought for a moment, then moved. He approached the rubble piled beside the gate and lifted the topmost fragment with both hands. He didn't call out to anyone. He didn't ask for instructions. He simply tried to add it to the pile of rubble stacked nearby. "[sarcastic]……That's not the right pile, mister," A young female committee member pointed, her expression exasperated. The rubble Sensei was holding apparently had to be sorted——some awaiting disposal, some reusable. He'd been about to place it in the wrong pile. Sensei silently corrected himself and set it in the right location. Karen said something in a low voice to the committee member beside her. "……First time I've ever seen an adult come to apologize and then do cleanup work," "You're being too loud," Sensei had heard it. He said nothing, though. The hostility hadn't changed. But mixed in with it now was a hint of——what is this guy, anyway?——confusion. After that, Sensei continued working in silence. He was aware his communication skills weren't high. He couldn't fit smoothly into conversation circles, and he didn't try. He simply carried rubble, placed it where directed, and went back for more. The same cycle, over and over. A few times, Karen gave him instructions on the work order. Her expression had started exasperated, but gradually became normal. As the sun began to tilt toward the horizon, Sensei lowered himself onto a concrete step. Small scrapes marked his arms. His palms were swollen and red. It was unfamiliar work. He almost never did construction. His entire body felt heavy. Footsteps approached. He looked up. Nagisa was standing there. A water bottle in her hand. Without a word, she tossed it toward Sensei. He caught it reflexively. A plastic bottle, more than half full. "……Thank you," Nagisa had already turned away. "[cold]Don't misunderstand," The answer came from her back. "If you collapsed from dehydration, the cleanup would just be more troublesome," Her voice——was just slightly softer than before. Only slightly. It might have been his imagination. But Sensei thought he heard it. He opened the bottle cap and drank. It was lukewarm. But it seeped into his parched throat. As night fell, Sensei passed in front of the Gehenna Discipline Committee headquarters. On his way out, his feet suddenly stopped. A new bulletin board had been installed on the exterior wall of the headquarters. Black text on white paper. ——Gehenna Ward Emergency Autonomous Ordinance. Based on academy autonomy principles, unauthorized entry by outside parties is prohibited. Schale's operational authority within Gehenna Ward is substantially restricted. Sensei read the entire text. When he checked with the Federal Student Council via smartphone, the response came immediately. ——During the continuation of the current emergency declaration only, entry is barely permitted. Upon the declaration's lifting, Schale will lose all intervention authority in Gehenna Ward. In other words, there was a time limit. Only while the emergency declaration remained in effect. The moment it was lifted, Sensei would no longer be able to come here. Sensei looked away from the bulletin board and gazed at Gehenna Ward's nightscape. Industrial equipment lights blinked in the distance. Restoration lighting on the school buildings still burned, and he could tell someone was still working. A voice echoed in his mind. ——What are you doing here, Sensei? Next, the image of a back handing over a water bottle surfaced. Without turning around, saying "If you collapsed from dehydration, it would just be troublesome." Sensei exhaled softly. Not rejection. But not welcome either. Somewhere in between, just one thing had remained today. He had no certainty. He didn't yet know what it was. Only one thing was clear. Time was not abundant.