78. The Sports Festival That Changed Their Fate. (2)

The autumn breeze was cool and refreshing, and not a single cloud marred the endless sky—a perfect day for an afternoon nap.

Tsukimiya sat beneath a tree, chewing on the root of some nameless wild grass. The school’s loudspeakers blared out a rousing anthem, but it wasn’t nearly enough to chase away the laziness draped across the boy’s shoulders.

Out on the field, the first-year girls’ relay was about to begin. In the middle of the soccer pitch, the cheer squad’s adorable girls, clad in their uniforms, shouted slogans with all their might. Their bare arms and legs glistened in the sun, short skirts barely covering the tops of their thighs.

And what did those skirts conceal beneath their hems?

Naturally, it was youth itself.

“Hey! Slacking off again?”

A girl’s voice sounded at his ear. Tsukimiya had already heard her footsteps approaching, so he wasn’t surprised.

“Why do you say that too?”

“Who else has said it?”

“Yogami.”

The girl nodded in agreement, chuckling softly. “Well, you do always give off that lazy air.”

Tsukimiya was about to defend himself, but for some reason, didn’t utter a word.

“Why not argue back?”

“It doesn’t matter. How others see me is their business. If I fussed over every little thing, it would never end.”

She bowed her head, studying his impassive face for a long moment. Her left hand gently formed a fist and tapped it on his head.

It didn’t hurt—soft and ticklish.

Tsukimiya raised his eyelids and shot her a questioning look.

“I know, you know. You always carry out the work I entrust to you flawlessly. You’ve never let me down.

“Because you never stand up for yourself, I can’t help but worry.

“So… next time, if someone says something like that, you must speak up, okay?”

He stared at her in astonishment, his mouth opening. “President…”

Bang—

The sound of the starter’s pistol rang out, a burst of colored smoke drifting into the sky. The first-year girls, already poised at the starting line, surged forward from the blocks like racehorses, each one giving her all.

“Go for it!”

“Saito, I like you!”

“Class C! Fight!”

“Hey! Who on earth is playing ‘Legend of the Horse Girls’ during the relay? Seriously!”

“Yogami! You can do it!”

“Huff… huff…”

“Give it all you’ve got!”

As the shouts and cheers grew ever more tumultuous, Hoshino Morihoshi wore a helpless expression. “Looks like I’ll have to go to the broadcasting room and see who’s causing mischief at the sports festival.”

Tsukimiya lowered his gaze slightly, shifting his eyes away from the girl, and replied with a near-inaudible “Mm.”

After Hoshino Morihoshi left, Tsukimiya leaned lightly against the sturdy trunk, unconsciously clenching his fists, and then slowly relaxing them.

Standing up for himself—such a troublesome thing—had never occurred to him.

He believed people could never truly understand one another. Rather than wasting breath, it was better to avoid incidents altogether.

Up on stage, the P.E. teacher shouted enthusiastically, clearly adept at stirring the students’ excitement.

“Oh! All classes have finished the fourth handoff—just two hundred meters left, and Class A is in the lead! Class A!

“Hot on their heels are Class C and Class D.

“They’re pushing hard—only a hundred meters to go! Who will it be?

“Class C! Yogami of Class C is catching up!

“Fifty meters left!

“It’s neck and neck! Yogami of Class C and Saito of Class A are tied!

“Thirty meters to go! The winner will soon be revealed!”

The boy rose from beneath the tree, stepping out from the shade. Without the sheltering leaves, the sunlight was dazzling—so bright he had to squint.

He parted the crowd before him, making his way toward the track. The loudspeaker on the announcer’s stand screeched with feedback, and the excited roar announcing the race results was deafening.

In his field of vision, a short girl in gym clothes dashed past, sweat gleaming on her skin. Her flat chest hit the finish tape before anyone else.

“First-year Class C! In the final thirty meters, they’ve taken the lead! The champions are Class C!”

“Yes!”

“You’re amazing, Yoh-chan!”

“Yoh-chan! Yoh-chan! Yoh-chan!”

The petite victor barely had time to catch her breath before her classmates surrounded her, hoisting her into the air.

“Huh?! What—what?! Hahaha—guys, put me down! That’s scary—hahaha!!”

The sunlight was blinding today. As she was tossed again and again, Yogami Yoh noticed the boy hiding among the crowd, as if afraid the sun’s rays might burn him.

Her face glowed with pride, her smile radiant with youthful vigor. Suspended in midair, she flashed a triumphant gesture in his direction.

Tsukimiya had been musing that even short legs could run so fast, but seeing Yogami Yoh’s beaming, sparkling smile—

A boy who felt like an isopod living in the cracks of life found himself, for a moment, wishing he could become human.

At that moment, “Legend of the Horse Girls” abruptly stopped playing over the school speakers. After five or six seconds, a more proper song started. Hoshino Morihoshi had likely gone to the broadcast room to set things straight.

Next up was the first-year boys’ relay, but Tsukimiya wasn’t among the runners. Fresh off her victory and treated like royalty by her classmates, Yogami Yoh ran over to Tsukimiya, her face still brimming with smug delight.

“Hmph!”

She said nothing, simply stood before him with her hands on her hips, nose in the air, the very picture of self-assurance.

“Well? How was that?”

He almost blurted out, “Not bad,” but stopped himself. Her cheeks were still flushed from exertion, beads of sweat soaking her clothes and making the gym shirt cling to her body. A label reading “1st Year, Class C” and “Yogami” was stuck to her chest.

Quietly, Tsukimiya reached out and gently ruffled her hair.

“I saw you. You were incredible.”

The girl’s eyes widened in disbelief as she looked up at him.

After a long pause, she stammered, “I thought senpai’s hand was only ever violent with me.”

“How rude. I give honest praise when it’s due. That was a spectacular finish.”

“Really? Hehe…”

“You certainly look pleased with yourself.”

“Of course! Because you praised me, senpai!”

“When is your race?”

“It’ll be a while yet.”

“Hmm, I’ll come cheer for you then!”

“You don’t have to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?! Such a tsundere, senpai—ouch, ouch—sorry!”

He let go of the top of her head and glanced behind her—her classmates had come looking for her. Tsukimiya waved them off and offered a few words of encouragement, then shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away without looking back.