It was almost impossible to hear the bell toll midnight at Eastwood Academy. The noise of the day—teachers barking out instructions, students laughing in the halls, and the hum of machinery in the labs—faded into a silence so profound that the world outside the campus might not have existed at all. But tonight, Ivy Chang wasn’t asleep like the rest of the school.

She adjusted the strap of her bag and glanced over her shoulder for the tenth time. The ancient grandfather clock in the foyer had just struck twelve, and the dimly lit corridors seemed to stretch endlessly in either direction. Ivy hated sneaking around, but she couldn’t resist the pull of the Midnight Study Club.

Room 3B, a disused classroom in the oldest wing of the school, wasn’t marked on any of the current maps of Eastwood. That was the point. Ivy slipped through the door, and the familiar sight of her unlikely group of friends made her exhale in relief.

"You're late," Mina teased, sitting cross-legged on a desk, sketchbook balanced on her knees. Her dark hair was tied back in a messy bun, and her pencil flew across the page as she doodled.

"Had to avoid Prefect Marlow," Ivy muttered, dropping her bag on the floor.

Theo grinned from his perch on a windowsill, a candy bar sticking out of his mouth. "Marlow again? Man, you’re terrible at sneaking around."

“Shut up,” Ivy said, but there was no bite in her voice.

Kai, the quietest of the group, nodded in greeting as he adjusted the flame on a small gas lamp sitting on the teacher's desk. His sharp, angular features were highlighted in the dim light, giving him a mysterious air Ivy was sure he cultivated on purpose.

"So," Mina said, closing her sketchbook with a flourish. "What’s tonight’s topic? Or are we just going to sit here and eat Theo’s illegal snacks again?"

"Illegal snacks are a tradition," Theo shot back, tossing a pack of crackers onto Mina's desk.

But Ivy wasn’t in the mood for banter. She slid into a chair and pulled out a stack of papers. "Actually, I have something. These flyers have been showing up everywhere lately." She spread one out on the desk. It was a crude photocopy, the edges torn, with bold letters spelling out: "DOWN WITH THE SYSTEM."

Theo leaned forward. "Where’d you find that?"

"On my desk in the library," Ivy said. "Someone’s been putting them up all over campus. The teachers are furious. They think it's a prank."

"It’s not a prank," Kai said quietly, his voice cutting through the room. "It’s connected to the protests happening in the city. My brother mentioned it in a letter last week. There’s a group out there stirring up trouble with schools like Eastwood."

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For a moment, silence hung in the air. Ivy could feel the weight of the flyer in her hands, like it was more than just a piece of paper.

"So, what?" Mina said finally, breaking the tension. "Some students are rebelling against the school? About time, if you ask me."

Theo frowned. "It’s not that simple. If this is tied to the protests, it’s dangerous. People have gotten arrested for less."

"Maybe," Ivy said, her voice steady, "but we need to figure out who’s behind it. If it’s someone from the club or someone close to us, we can’t just ignore it."

Kai nodded. "Agreed. But we have to be careful. If the staff finds out we’re even talking about this, it’ll be all over."

The group sat in uneasy silence for a moment, the faint sound of wind rattling the old windows.

Over the next week, the Midnight Study Club turned into a covert investigation team. Ivy kept an eye on the library and the bulletin boards, while Mina and Theo dug through discarded flyers in the dorm trash bins. Kai, who had a knack for blending in, casually listened to gossip in the cafeteria.

One evening, Mina burst into the club’s meeting with a triumphant grin. "I think I found something!"

She held up a flyer, identical to the others, except for a faint smudge in the corner. "Look at this," she said, pointing to the mark. "That’s the Eastwood Academy seal. Someone printed this on school equipment."

Ivy’s eyes widened. "So it’s definitely a student."

"Not just any student," Mina said. "You need special clearance to use the printers in the staff lounge. Whoever did this has access."

"That narrows it down," Kai said, leaning forward.

"Not much," Theo grumbled. "Half the prefects have clearance, and so do the student council members."

"Then we start there," Ivy said firmly.

The club’s investigation finally bore fruit when Kai spotted a council member, Amelia Prescott, slipping into the staff lounge late one night. Following her, they found her printing an entire stack of flyers, her face tense and determined.

Confronted, Amelia initially tried to deny everything, but eventually, she confessed. "The administration is stifling us," she said, her voice shaking. "Do you know how many students they’ve expelled for speaking out? For wanting something different? Eastwood isn’t a school—it’s a factory."

Amelia’s words struck a chord with the group. Ivy remembered how often she’d felt suffocated by the pressure, Theo thought of the isolation he hid behind jokes, and Mina clenched her fists, thinking of her hidden mural dreams.

"Then let us help," Ivy said finally. "We’re already in this deep. Let’s make it count."

Together, the Midnight Study Club and Amelia crafted a plan to bring the administration’s oppressive practices to light. Using Mina’s artistic skills, Theo’s charm, Kai’s quiet brilliance, and Ivy’s knack for strategy, they created a public demonstration that couldn’t be ignored.

On a cold Friday morning, as the school gathered for assembly, a massive banner unfurled from the top of the main building. It was Mina’s work—a sprawling, breathtaking mural of students breaking free from chains, their faces defiant and proud. Below it, in bold letters, was written: "WE ARE MORE THAN NUMBERS."

The headmaster’s furious shouts were drowned out by the roar of the students.

That night, the Midnight Study Club met again, their laughter echoing through Room 3B. They knew there would be consequences, but for the first time, they felt free.

And Ivy, as she looked around at her friends, realized something: rebellion wasn’t just about breaking rules. Sometimes, it was about finding a place where you truly belonged.