Harem System in an Elite Academy

The student council chamber was quiet again. Not empty, but quiet in a way that carried weight — the kind that came after weeks of noise. The festival had ended the night before, and cleanup teams were still working outside, but inside the tall building at the center of the academy, the mood was different.

The long table at the center of the room was lined with documents, still not cleared from the last round of disciplinary hearings. Files were stacked neatly on the left side, the names of students marked in sharp black ink. A faint hum from the ceiling lamps filled the silence.

Damien Ravencroft sat at the far end of the table, hands folded. The council president’s posture was calm as usual, but his eyes were focused — sharp and unreadable. He was listening more than he was speaking, and the rest of the council understood that meant the discussion had to matter.

Beside him sat Amelia, flipping through the most recent attendance and behavioral records. Across from her, two third-year members whispered to one another, passing notes quietly. The door opened a few moments later, and Arios entered.

He didn’t speak immediately. He just took the empty chair near the end of the table. The others glanced at him briefly but said nothing. Everyone here already knew who he was and what had happened. The reports might have omitted his name, but the council members weren’t blind.

Damien leaned back slightly. "Good timing. We were just about to start."

Arios gave a nod. "I wasn’t late."

"Barely," Amelia said without looking up from her papers.

He smirked faintly. "You sent the message fifteen minutes ago."

"Which is fifteen minutes earlier than the meeting starts. I expected punctuality."

Damien tapped his pen once on the desk, the sound echoing softly. "Let’s move on. We’re here to discuss the outcomes of the Garron case, and how we handle what comes after."

The air tightened slightly. Even though the issue had been settled officially, the topic still carried a quiet discomfort. The name had become something of a scar on the academy’s image — one they wanted to heal quietly, without drawing more attention than necessary.

One of the senior council members, a tall boy named Halden, spoke first. "The official announcement has stabilized the academy’s rumors. The students have mostly moved on."

Amelia nodded. "Mostly. A few still question why the council didn’t disclose all details, but the general sentiment is relief. We framed it as a disciplinary expulsion due to misconduct, not criminal activity."

"That’s the correct choice," Damien said evenly. "We can’t afford another media stir."

Arios stayed silent for a moment, then spoke. "You’re still watching Chase."

It wasn’t a question. Damien looked at him directly. "Of course."

Amelia paused her writing. "Chase has been unusually quiet. Too quiet. He’s been attending every class, submitting work early. But that’s not a good sign."

"It’s a pattern," Damien said. "When someone like him stays silent, it means he’s preparing."

Halden frowned. "You think he’s planning something?"

"I don’t assume," Damien replied. "I prepare."

The room went silent for a few seconds before Amelia changed the topic slightly. "And Regulus?"

"Suspension’s over next week," she said. "He’s been ordered to attend mandatory discipline sessions before rejoining his class."

Arios folded his arms. "That won’t change anything. Regulus doesn’t follow orders. He follows Chase."

Damien gave a small nod. "I know."

"Then you know it’s not over," Arios said.

There was no hostility in his tone — just a statement of fact. Damien met his eyes, calm as ever. "You think I don’t?"

The room stayed quiet again. Outside the tall windows, sunlight leaked in, filtered through the glass into long rectangular shapes on the polished floor. The courtyard below looked peaceful, almost unaware of the discussions taking place above it.

Damien eventually stood, moving toward the window. His hands rested behind his back. "Instructor Garron was only one piece of something larger. A symptom, not the cause."

Amelia looked up. "You’re referring to the old faculty connection?"

He nodded. "Yes. Some records go back further than his employment here. Before this academy, Garron worked in two other institutions that both closed due to corruption scandals. The names of the higher-ups were erased from the files, but a pattern remains."

Arios’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You’re saying there’s a network."

"Possibly," Damien said. "But we won’t find proof by chasing rumors. We’ll need someone inside."

The room shifted slightly, quiet again. It was clear what he meant, and everyone’s eyes drifted toward Arios. He looked back at Damien without flinching.

"You want me to continue looking," Arios said.

"You’re already in a position to do it," Damien replied. "Students trust you more than they trust us. You’ve interacted with the main people involved, and you’re already on Chase’s radar. You don’t need to provoke him — just observe."

Arios nodded slowly. "Understood."

Amelia frowned slightly. "That’s not a small thing to ask. You’re putting him at risk."

Damien turned to her. "Arios isn’t someone who runs from risk."

"That’s not the point," she said. "He’s still a student."

Arios interrupted quietly, "It’s fine. If Chase is planning something, I’d rather see it early."

Damien gave a single approving nod. "Good. Then that’s settled."

He returned to his seat. The others began shuffling through their papers, preparing to close the meeting, but Damien wasn’t finished. He waited until the room was quieter, until the smaller side conversations had died down.

Then he said, calmly but firmly, "One storm has passed, but the year has only begun."

The words weren’t theatrical. They were simple — but they lingered. The kind of sentence that carried weight not because of how it was said, but because everyone knew it meant something real.

Amelia’s eyes lowered slightly. "You think we’ll face something worse."

Damien didn’t answer immediately. He simply looked toward the sealed stack of reports on the far side of the table — documents not yet opened. "History says we will."

Arios stayed quiet, but the sentence stayed with him. For all the calm they had earned, it didn’t feel like the end of anything. Just a pause between Chapters.

The meeting wrapped up soon after. Members filtered out one by one, leaving only Amelia, Arios, and Damien in the room. Papers were gathered, files organized, chairs pushed back in place. The silence after the conversation felt heavier than before.

Amelia glanced at Arios. "You really plan to keep an eye on Chase?"

He nodded. "You’d do the same."

She sighed quietly. "Yeah, I would. Just... be careful."

Damien walked past them, stacking folders into a briefcase. "If anything happens, report directly to me. Not through channels."

Arios raised a brow. "Not even through Amelia?"

Damien looked back. "Especially not through Amelia."

Amelia frowned. "Excuse me?"

"It’s not personal," Damien said, tone flat. "It’s protocol. If something involves Chase or his group, information should stay minimal."

Arios nodded. "Understood."

She muttered something under her breath, but didn’t argue further. Damien adjusted his jacket and headed for the door. "We’ll reconvene next week. Until then, maintain appearances. The academy needs peace, at least on the surface."

When he left, Amelia turned toward Arios again. "You know, you don’t always have to do what he says."

"I know," Arios said. "But he’s not wrong."

She watched him for a moment, then sighed again. "You and your logic."

He smirked faintly. "It works."

"Barely."

He picked up his bag from beside the chair and slung it over his shoulder. "See you later."

Amelia nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Yeah. Don’t do anything stupid."

He left without answering.

Outside, the corridors of the administrative building were still quiet. A few student assistants walked past with clipboards, murmuring to each other about cleanup schedules and lost property. Through the tall glass windows, Arios could see the remains of the festival decorations — paper flags fluttering weakly in the wind, booths half-dismantled.

The air outside was warm but mild. It carried the faint scent of food and candle wax from the night before. The sound of voices in the courtyard below was low, relaxed — laughter mixed with idle conversation. A normal day again.

Arios walked down the stairs and through the main hallway until he reached the open courtyard. Lucy and Liza were sitting on the fountain edge again, surrounded by paper cups and leftover snacks. Liza waved when she spotted him.

"There you are," she said. "Council meeting?"

"Yeah."

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Lucy stretched her arms. "How’d it go?"

"Fine."

"’Fine’ usually means complicated," she said.

He gave a small shrug. "Depends how you define it."

Liza rolled her eyes. "There it is. Classic vague Arios response."

He didn’t argue. He sat down next to them. The sound of running water filled the pause that followed.

Lucy looked at him again. "Something’s still on your mind."

He didn’t answer right away. "Just things to think about."

"Like what?"

"Next steps," he said simply.

Liza frowned slightly. "You mean the council’s next move?"

"Something like that."

Lucy exchanged a look with Liza, then said, "You should stop carrying the whole world in your head for five minutes."

He smiled faintly. "That’s impossible."

"Try."

"I’ll think about it."

"That’s not the same," she muttered.

He let the conversation die there, letting the normal background noise fill in the silence. It was peaceful, and for a brief moment, that was enough.

****

Later that evening, the council building was dark except for the single light in Damien’s office. He sat alone, going through sealed files, each marked with old administrative codes. The lamp cast long shadows across the table. On one of the pages was an old list of faculty names from over a decade ago.

At the bottom of the page, two names were circled in red ink. One of them had already been crossed out — Instructor Garron. The second name was untouched, but beside it was a question mark.

Damien stared at it for a long time before closing the file. He leaned back in his chair, the sound of the wind faintly brushing against the glass window.

He murmured quietly to himself, "One storm has passed."

Then, after a pause — almost as if finishing his own thought —

"But the year has only begun."

He closed the folder and turned off the light.