When many people hear the word "training camp," they might imagine a strict and grueling experience. For many, the idea of high school students going on a club training camp involves running from morning till night, practicing without breaks, and collapsing from exhaustion in the evenings. There's hardly any time to genuinely enjoy oneself.
People often see anime depicting high school girls having a great time frolicking at the beach or in the mountains during their training camps, but that's mostly fiction.
However, there are indeed places where such enjoyable training camps exist, and it's not in high school but rather in university. University students, with more freedom and often better financial means, have training camps that are quite different from those in high school. While some university clubs may engage in rigorous training even more than high schools, many circles organize their training camps as a form of recreation.
In other words, it's all about activitie! Fun! Drinking! And dealing with hangovers!
In some cases, there might be encounters or even romantic moments with tipsy girls, and plenty of guys excited about the potential summer fling. Our literary club, despite its official designation, is essentially a humanities-based circle.
Our summer training camp is a three-night, four-day trip that most club members participate in, filled with activities such as swimming in the sea, ghost hunts, drinking parties, and more.
Given the number of cute girls present, the circle's members, especially the guys, eagerly anticipated this day.
And we were no exception; we were all looking forward to the enjoyable training camp.
So, we had been preparing for this fun-filled event.
"Hey, Yuusuke... how's the progress?"
"No good."
"What about you, Matsuda? ...Matsuda, hey Matsuda."
"No response, he's like a corpse."
"Do you really have the luxury to be fooling around, Yuusuke?"
Not at all.
While exchanging brief words with Souji, I continued to stare at the monitor, relentlessly typing on the keyboard.
"Senpai..."
Hinata, who was beside me and had a dead-eyed expression, spoke with a voice that sounded like she was about to cough up her soul.
Hinata Yukari, as usual, had her hair neatly curled and wore makeup that wasn't too flashy to hide the visible signs of fatigue around her eyes.
"Senpai, what's going on here?"
Her usual lively demeanor was nowhere to be found, and fatigue was evident in her every move.
"What's going on, you ask?"
I stretched my stiff neck and glanced around. There were many members, just like us, sitting like lifeless corpses, facing their laptops.
Ah, this scene brings back memories...
"It's the death march before the training camp. If our works aren't ready before the camp, there's no point in going."
That's right; we were currently using an empty university classroom to write our works, staying overnight. As the name suggests, the Literary Club compiles works using words such as novels, essays, and poetry.
While we usually act independently, participating in activities such as rookie awards, web novels, and sales events, creating a compilation for the cultural festival is a club-wide rule.
The purpose of the training camp is to read and edit the completed works. Of course, you need to have your works ready by then, but university students are notorious for leaving their assignments until the last minute. There's no way we'd do a circle's compilation like this.
That's why the death march before the training camp has become a customary event.
"Well, I've already finished my work."
"The third-year students' works are to be reviewed and edited by the first-year students. Last year, we had to do the same."
"My eyes are starting to go bad. Why on earth are we doing this?"
Hinata complained while blinking rapidly. I understood her feelings very well.
Traditionally, the first-year students are responsible for reviewing and editing the third-year students' works before the training camp, a kind consideration that says, "It would be too tough for you to edit senpai's work during the camp." I felt the same way last year. Being treated as a convenient slave.
However, this year, I'm second-year students, which means I can comfortably watch the first-year students struggling with this.
Well, it's not like my work is done yet!
The work I'm currently writing is like a record of my adventures in another world, a kind of travelogue. I traveled the world while on a quest to defeat the Demon Lord. I vividly remember not only the different cultures of each country but also the ecosystems, vegetation, and interactions with the people.
The reason I'm writing this is that recalling those memories brings me joy.
By the way, I've already exceeded 6,000 characters. I'm still a long way from the planned 10,000 characters. It would be quick to just jot down random things that come to mind, but our club president would never allow that. If the descriptions are lacking, I'll get thoroughly criticized during the training camp.
I should have done this sooner... No, I couldn't help it.
By the way, Kongou Souji, who spoke to me earlier, seems to be writing a mystery novel, but his progress is probably similar to mine. The sight of the tall, red-haired guy sitting intently in front of his computer is surreal, but right now, there's no room for laughter.
On the other hand, there's Matsuda Munenori, who was mentioned earlier. Matsuda is said to write pure love novels or talk about nightmares he had during the flu, but now he's sprawled out in front of his keyboard, fast asleep. He'll probably wake up in another ten minutes or so, so let him be.
I turned my head to look at the edge of the monitor, and there it was, the time. The training camp is only a day away now. I wanted to spend today preparing for the camp and getting some rest, but I wonder if I'll finish this today.
*Sigh.*
There's no use complaining. As I placed my hands on the keyboard, ready to continue, an unusually cheerful voice for this late at night reached my ears.
"Hello, everyone! Great job!"
"Oh, everyone's working hard. It's time for a refueling break!"
All the eyes in the room turned toward the source of the voice. Entering through the door were several girls, with a black-haired, dignified woman leading the way. Despite the late hour, she wore a bright smile and was full of energy, as if she'd just consumed an energy drink.
It was our Literary Club president, Hayasaki Akari-senpai.
Following her were the other female members of the Literary Club. They were carrying large trays in their hands, and on top of those trays were a large number of onigiri.
"Here, everyone, these are onigiris made by current female college students. It's time to eat them and rejuvenate!"
"Oh!"
"As expected of President! Thank you!"
"Yay, I was so hungry!"
The members, who had seemed lifeless just moments ago, started to perk up and rise to their feet. The way they eagerly swarmed around the onigiris made it look like a zombie apocalypse with survivors being approached by zombies. I was one of those zombies.
Suddenly, a big zombie stood up next to me. With his red hair, he looked like a mini-boss from a zombie game. Souji, the mini-boss, muttered.
"You know, the way the President says it doesn't really make me hungry."
"Yeah, it's like a street promoter outside a nightclub."
"I don't care how she says it; I wish I had her job."
Hinata joined in the conversation, and a crowd had formed around the onigiris.
Many people had eagerly anticipated these late-night snacks, making them willing to participate in the death march. Well, there's something enjoyable about preparing for the cultural festival the night before, and it's not just about the onigiri.
However, this gathering was filled with youthful enthusiasm and action. Even with simple onigiri, various interests and intentions were at play.
Particularly noticeable were the actions of the guys.
Among the many onigiri laid out on the trays, if I looked closely, I'd notice subtle differences. Differences in size, shape, and other factors that people wouldn't normally pay attention to when eating. But these differences represented the person who made the onigiri.
It's only natural to want to eat the onigiri made by the person you're interested in. While some people casually picked up onigiri that were close at hand, the guys were doing their best to extract information from the girls.
"Yuusuke, aren't you going to get some soon?"
"I'll go once there are fewer people."
"The onigiri you're aiming for might be gone by then."
Even if you say that... I mean, I don't really mind as long as I can eat something. Did my feelings get across? Souji nodded as I said,
"Well, Isumi isn't here today, so it doesn't matter which one I choose."
"Are you sure?"
Nobody was even talking about that! But Souji laughed heartily and said,
"Last year, you were acting suspicious the whole time because you wanted to eat Isumi's onigiri."
"I don't remember anything like that!"
Even if there was something like that, I've forgotten it.
Isumi Tsukiko, a member of our Literary Club just like us, is also my ex-girlfriend.
Last year, Tsukiko, who had finished all her work, also participated in making onigiris, but in the end, I couldn't tell which one was Tsukiko's, so I chose one based on my intuition.
By the way, when I asked Tsukiko later if I had chosen correctly, she didn't tell me. She probably didn't want to make me feel bad, so she kept it a secret.
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