With Hakuto's precise handling, everything was all set.
The bonfire, ingredients, grill, and... a tent?
Wait, a tent? Why is there only one?
Hakuto looked at the tent he had just set up, then turned to rummage through Ginko's suitcase.
But after a thorough search, he finally had to accept the truth—there was only one tent.
"Damn it! All damn it!"
Hakuto had no idea what Ginko was planning, but he knew one thing—this was a disaster!
Just then, Ginko walked up beside him, leaned in, and asked, "What's wrong?"
"N-nothing… I was just wondering if I should go down and buy another tent."
Hearing this, Ginko casually played with the folding fan in her hand and replied nonchalantly, "It's late already. Besides, what's wrong with just one tent?"
"Late?"
Hakuto took out his phone. Although they had spent a lot of time on the road and preparing, it was still only around four in the afternoon.
But since the boss said it was late, then it was late. Hakuto didn't plan to argue—after all, the boss's word was law.
Besides, suggesting they get another tent was just something he blurted out.
Sharing a tent?
They'd been doing that since childhood.
What's the big deal?
With that thought, Hakuto stood up, clapped his hands, and stopped dwelling on it.
Instead, he turned to Ginko, stretched out his hand, and asked, "Ginko, want to go catch some fish? It's still early, anyway."
"Catch fish?"
Hakuto pointed not far away and said, "Yeah, there's a stream over there. There should be fish in it."
Even though Japan had recklessly dumped nuclear waste into the ocean, small inland streams like this one should be fine.
Besides, in this world, Hakuto hadn't heard any news about Japan dumping nuclear waste.
So, with plenty of time to spare, he led Ginko to the stream to catch fish.
When they reached the stream, Ginko took off her black stockings, held onto Hakuto's hand, and slowly stepped into the water.
Since it was summer, the water wasn't too cold—just a refreshing coolness that seeped into the skin.
Ginko looked at the crystal-clear stream and the fish clearly visible at the bottom.
On impulse, she reached out to grab one, but it slipped right through her fingers, and the splash drenched her face.
Hakuto wiped the water off her face and reminded her, "Be careful."
"I should've brought my swimsuit. Are we just going to catch them with our bare hands?"
"Hold on."
Saying that, Hakuto went to the shore, picked up a branch, and used his small knife to sharpen the tip.
Once he was done, he waded back into the water and handed the sharpened branch to Ginko.
"We don't have the right tools, so we'll have to make do. It should still be able to spear some fish."
Ginko took the wooden spear, examined it for a moment, and asked, "Can this really catch fish?"
"It should be better than using bare hands… There"
As he spoke, Hakuto suddenly reached into the water, grabbed a small fish, and tossed it onto the shore.
Wild fish were feisty—even a small one struggled like crazy after being caught, splashing water everywhere, some even landing in Hakuto's mouth.
Ginko watched this scene with curiosity. Just then, a small fish swam past her foot.
She stared at it, hesitated for a moment, then raised her wooden spear and stabbed down hard!
But reality wasn't that simple—she missed again.
She looked back at Hakuto.
By now, he was soaking wet, holding a fish that weighed at least three pounds, grinning triumphantly.
"How did you catch that?"
"Me? Probably just instinct…"
As he spoke, Hakuto tossed the three-pound fish onto the shore, then walked up to Ginko and gently took her hand.
The sudden contact made Ginko tremble, her face instantly turning red.
But Hakuto was too focused on the fish in the water to notice the change in her expression.
"Hakuto…"
"Shh~"
Ginko looked at Hakuto's serious face. Just as she was about to say something, he cut her off.
He gently held her hand—the one gripping the wooden spear—raised it slightly, aimed at a fish happily swimming by, and after a brief moment of focus, struck down!
"See? That's instinct!"
As Hakuto reveled in his success, Ginko suddenly kicked him.
"You idiot! Want me to skewer you instead?!"
"Huh? Please have mercy, Lady Ginko!"
Hakuto had no idea what just happened, but apologizing first seemed like the best move.
Ginko tossed the wooden spear back to him, then walked up to the shore, grabbed her black stockings and the two fish Hakuto had caught earlier.
She dropped the fish into a bucket they had brought, giving them a temporary lease on life—but not for long.
"I'm heading back."
"Wait, Ginko… you're not planning to grill the fish yourself, are you?"
Geniuses like Ginko usually had terrible cooking skills.
It might not be lethal, but it would definitely qualify as dark cuisine.
Just as Hakuto was about to say more, a piece of black fabric suddenly covered his vision.
"If you say another word, I'll kill you!"
"Alright, alright, I won't."
Hakuto pulled the fabric off his face as he spoke.
That's when he realized—Ginko had thrown her black stockings at him.
"She couldn't even skewer a fish, but she has perfect aim when throwing stuff…"
And so, Ginko, carrying her shoes in one hand and the bucket in the other, walked barefoot back to the camp, leaving Hakuto alone at the stream to continue fishing.
He tossed the stockings back onto the shore, discarded the wooden spear, and started looking for his next target.
Compared to using a wooden spear, he preferred using his own hands.
At times like this, Hakuto really wondered if fish actually had a memory span of just seven seconds.
Even though three of their kind had already perished here, they still dared to swim right toward him—were they asking for death?
Well, if they didn't value their lives, Hakuto wouldn't hold back. One after another, he tossed fish onto the shore, like waves crashing in the summer.
Unknowingly, night had fallen.
Hakuto looked at the pile of fresh fish on the shore and smugly rubbed his nose.
Just then, a familiar voice rang out.
"Yoshi! That's a lot! Shiratori, I didn't know you had this skill!"
Hearing this praise, Hakuto lifted his chin proudly.
"Of course! Wait… Tomori Nao?"
He had assumed Ginko had come back, but as far as he could remember, Ginko had never called him "Shiratori."
Turning toward the source of the voice, he saw a white-haired girl standing on the shore, holding two of the fish he had just caught, looking at him expectantly.
"…President? What are you doing here?"
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