&TEAM Dorms – 9:42 a.m.

Jo squints at the hallway floor.
"Is this... glitter?"

Nicholas walks past, stops, takes a step back. "Is that why my sock sparkled during dance practice?"

"There's a trail," Maki says, crouched down like a detective. "It leads to the kitchen. Or possibly to doom."

Taki enters with a toaster. "I vote doom."

Inside the kitchen, Fuma sits serenely at the table, covered head to toe in a suspicious shimmer. Even his hair glows faintly gold in the sunlight.

"Fuma," Harua says, very gently. "Why are you a disco ball?"

Fuma blinks. "Oh. That's my mood glitter."

Silence.

"Your what now?" Yuma asks, horrified.

"My therapist said I needed a way to track how I'm feeling without bottling it up." Fuma lifts a tiny shaker of glitter from his hoodie pocket. "If I sparkle more, I'm anxious."

Nicholas, deadpan: "You're blinding, Fuma."

Fuma smiles serenely. "Then clearly I need a nap."

Jo mutters, "Or a containment zone."

Later that night, the trail reappears—this time leading to Taki's room.

"No one panic," K announces, stepping over the glitter like it's sacred. "But we may have a glitter-based contagion situation."

Meanwhile, Fuma, journaling peacefully under a glitter lamp:
"Today's sparkle level: 8.5. Still breathing."

"The Glitter Trials: Emotional Edition"

Day 2 – The Dorms

After much denial, protest, and Jo trying to vacuum glitter off his socks for the fifth time, the rest of &TEAM caves.

"If we're gonna live in a magical sparkle swamp," says Nicholas, dead serious, "we might as well weaponize it."

Fuma nods sagely, handing out tiny labeled jars like a glitter dealer.

Yuma chooses green glitter.
"I'll only sprinkle this when I feel pure joy," he says.

Within one hour, his room is the Emerald City.

"Yuma," Jo groans, walking into what looks like a leprechaun rave, "this was supposed to be subtle."

"I felt joy ten times today!" Yuma defends. "And I'm proud of it!"

Jo picks silver glitter for when he's done putting up with everyone's nonsense.

Everyone regrets encouraging him.

By lunchtime, the microwave is coated.

By dinner, someone finds a glittered note on the fridge:
"You left one fork in the sink. Shame." – The Glitter Phantom.

K doesn't speak.
He just calmly selects black glitter.

"Wait... what's that for?" Harua asks.

K smiles cryptically. "You'll know."

He disappears for most of the day.

That night, Nicholas opens his locker and black glitter explodes from inside.

A small note falls out:
"Respect the snack shelf."

Nicholas goes all in with red glitter.
"This is for when I feel unreasonably powerful."

The problem? He always feels unreasonably powerful.

By morning, the living room looks like Valentine's Day broke up with itself.

Harua finds a glitter trail leading to the rooftop.
Nicholas is up there in sunglasses, wind blowing through his hair, sipping juice like it's victory champagne.

"Hey," he says. "I solved the recycling schedule."

Harua: "...You left a trail like a crime scene."

Nicholas: "Exactly."

Harua resists at first.
Eventually chooses lavender glitter, to track "inner calm."

The others secretly bet it will last two hours.

To their surprise, his jar stays full all day.

Until Taki eats his yogurt.

Harua walks to the kitchen, pops the jar open, and dumps the whole thing over Taki's unsuspecting head like glittered divine punishment.

Taki: "I feel calm now too. Internally bruised, but calm."

Maki chooses rainbow glitter and refuses to explain what each color means.

"Is red happy?" Jo asks.

"No."

"Is blue sad?"

"Also no."

"Then what—?"

"I'm an enigma," Maki says, shaking rainbow dust onto his cereal like sprinkles. "Decode me if you dare."

Taki takes it way too seriously.

He makes a glitter mood board on his wall.

Each glitter type is labeled, charted, and placed in exact tiny piles.

"Today I'm feeling 65% bold, 20% mischievous, 10% sleepy, and 5% deeply concerned about Fuma's smoothie choices."

Yuma whispers, "He's terrifying."

By the end of the week, the dorm is an explosion of colors.

They try vacuuming. The vacuum gives up.
They try sweeping. The broom joins the vacuum.

Finally, Fuma sits them all down in the living room, surrounded by sparkles.

"I think," he says, "we have achieved emotional awareness."

There's silence. A sparkle floats by.

Then Jo coughs glitter.

"Or permanent lung damage," he adds.

Everyone cheers anyway.

EPILOGUE:

A fan spots them at the airport weeks later.

"Why is there glitter on your suitcase?"

Fuma, smiling:
"Because feelings don't pack lightly."

the fans were confused but anything for their Fuma