Chapter 6: The Curtains Rise

Chapter 6: The Curtains Rise

Chapter 6:

The Curtains Rise

A T LAST , the day had come. The curtains were about to rise on the sports festival, and it looked to be a long day. The entire student body, all wearing their jerseys, marched together as one. Well, we called it a march, but most people just strolled along, taking the movement just seriously enough not to disrupt the order.

“All right, time to really show off for Kikyou-chan!” shouted Ike as he walked directly behind me.

How did he plan to show off when he was bad at sports? The guy was all bark and no bite.

Fujimaki, from the third-year Class A, gave a speech during the opening ceremony. Although there weren’t many, a number of spectators watched from the school grounds’ outskirts. They were probably adults who worked on campus. The school didn’t seem to have put any strict restrictions in place regarding who could attend the festival. Occasionally, one of the spectators smiled or waved.

Meanwhile, the teachers themselves watched us without the vaguest hint of smiles. Medical personnel could also be seen setting up some kind of cottage. It could fit around twenty people and was equipped with an air conditioner and water cooler. The school’s preparations were as meticulous as they had been on the deserted island. They provided tents for the Red Team and White Team; the tents faced each other on opposite sides of the track. The school didn’t want the teams mingling with each other, except during competitions.

“Man, they sure are prepared. They even went so far as to install cameras to help them make the final decisions.”

The first event of the festival was the 100-meter dash, and I saw that a camera had been installed and pointed toward the finish line.

“That way, they’ll definitely avoid any incorrect judgments or vague results.”

The line between victory and defeat could come down to a hair’s breadth in competitions like these. I supposed that was why they hadn’t included events like cheerleading, which were challenging to score.

6.1

“W HAT GROUP are you in for the 100-meter dash, again?” Horikita asked.

“Seventh,” I answered, looking over at the program table, which had the participation order and schedule.

“Hopefully no one exceptionally good turns up. I’ll be cheering you on for the class’s sake.”

“I’ll do my best not to come in last, then,” I replied.

With that unambitious goal, I headed to the track with the rest of the first-year boys. The festival ordered events such as the 100-meter dash by grade level, starting with the first-year boys and ending with the third-year girls. Then there’d be a break, after which the order would switch. We’d resume competitions in the opposite direction, starting with third-year girls and ending with first-year boys.

The competition was about to start. All the pairings had been decided according to the printouts each class had received in advance. Now we’d finally learn who would run from which class, and in what order. The first-year boys formed ten groups in total; mine was seventh. Each group contained eight people, two from each class. Sudou was in the first group.

All of Class D watched, holding their breath. This festival’s outcome depended greatly upon Sudou. If we won this premiere event, we’d have Sudou run first for us so he could take the wind from our opponent’s sails. Everyone on our team could use that momentum to get hyped. If Sudou did poorly, it would probably put a dent in our spirits.

“From my point of view, nobody here’s really that big a deal. I see lots of fatties and twigs. Sudou’s got first place covered!” shouted Ike.

I couldn’t see any students of note from the other three classes in Sudou’s group. Like Ike had said, Sudou’s victory was probably assured.

“Then again, depending on how you look at it, this could be a big loss for us.”

Ideally, if we were using an incredible athlete like Sudou, then it would have been better to have him compete against fast opponents.

“Well, there’s nothing we can really do about that. It’s just luck.”

There was definitely Something about seeing Sudou hunched and ready at the starting line inspired feelings of absolute confidence. Even if he did happen to take a spill in the middle of the race, he’d still be all right. He could do this.

As soon as the signal sounded, Sudou shot forward like a bullet. He quickly outran all the other boys, leaving them in the dust. He reached the goal with such an overwhelming lead that no one else came anywhere close. He won by a landslide.

While everyone watched, Sudou took first place, as anticipated. Meanwhile, the Professor—the second Class D student in the first group—managed to come in last. We’d anticipated that, too.

The signal to start the next race came right away, without any time to bask in the afterglow. The signals came at about twenty-second intervals, which meant that it would take four minutes for all the first-year boys to finish running. This event would repeat for all the boys and girls in all three grade levels, which meant that the 100-meter dash should finish in about thirty minutes.

“Just as we’d expect from Sudou-kun.” Hirata, my partner, seemed genuinely impressed.

“Yeah. Feels like the other classes were pretty dumbstruck, too.”

He didn’t simply take first place; he’d also left a strong impact on everyone. Just like Sudou and the Professor, we in the seventh group also had our roles to play. Hirata, who belonged to the soccer club and was a fast runner, was sure to place high. I’d take a spot at least one place after him, so there was really nothing to be anxious about. It was just a question of how to stand out while remaining inconspicuous.

There were several students from other classes to be wary of. I wondered which groups had athletic students like Kanzaki and Shibata, and which boasted students with a strong presence like Ryuuen or Katsuragi. The third group hurried to the starting line.

“Oh, Baldy’s—I mean, Katsuragi’s—in the first lane,” said Ike, pointing at Katsuragi’s head.

Sunlight shone on Katsuragi’s scalp, lending it a brilliant sheen. Next to him, I saw another guy I knew: Kanzaki from Class B. He looked pretty calm. So, Katsuragi and Kanzaki would be competing against each other, huh?

The formidable Kouenji was also supposed to be in the third group, but there was no sign of him in Lane 5, which he’d been assigned. No one from the school bothered to search for him. They just marked it as an absence and immediately started the race.

I thought that the third group would be a close match, but Kanzaki was fastest. Katsuragi was by no means slow, just outclassed. The race ended without much fuss. Kanzaki took first place and Katsuragi third. As the races continued, Hirata noticed something.

“Ayanokouji-kun. There,” he said, gesturing at the temporary cottage that had been erected.

When I strained my eyes to look, I saw Kouenji inside, fussing with his hair. He certainly hadn’t just come back from a run. Still, it was too soon for him to just withdraw.

“Apparently, he’s not participating.”

Kouenji had cooperated all the way up until the opening ceremonies, but in the end, it appeared that he planned to bow out of the competitions. Kouenji would probably make some kind of excuse to get out of it, saying his feet hurt or he wasn’t feeling well. If he wasn’t participating in any of the competitions at all, then that meant he wouldn’t be able to get any points, not even last place. His absence weighed heavily on both our class and the Red Team. Class A had Sakayanagi, who also wouldn’t participate in any events, but at least she had a valid reason.

If Classes B and C had no absentees, the Red Team would need to make up for their two missing members. That was quite the handicap.

The rest of the competition progressed smoothly, and soon it was time for the seventh group. I went and stood in Lane 4, with Hirata next to me in Lane 5. There was also Yahiko, from Class A, but the rest of the competitors were guys I wasn’t familiar with.

This was the first sports festival of my life. I started off with a medium dash, neither fast nor slow. Hirata slowly but surely passed me and joined the top runners. I saw four people’s backs in front of me, which meant that I was in fifth.

Because there wasn’t a huge difference in speed between us, we all kind of clustered together. As we continued to run, our order didn’t change. In the end, I finished in fifth place. Hirata narrowly took the top spot.

“Whew. Good job,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“Sorry. I dragged us down,” I replied.

“That’s not true. Everyone was fast. It was a good race,” said Hirata.

Despite my disappointing results, he didn’t blame me at all. Instead, he gave me a smile.

We hurried off the track and headed over to the tent. The next group would be starting, and we were in the way. After the first-year boys finished running the 100-meter dash, they returned to their seats and focused on watching the girls with a predatory intensity. They cared about the race’s outcome, of course, but they also just wanted to watch the girls run.

“Where’s Sudou?” I asked. He should have returned to his seat by now.

“Who knows? Maybe the toilet? Dude, we’ve got more important things to look at. Check out those jiggling boobs, man, those boobs !” said the chipper Ike.

I immediately had a bad feeling about Sudou’s absence. He should have been cheering Horikita on, so his disappearance was strange.

“No way.”

I looked over toward the cottage to see that my intuition was correct. Sudou was approaching Kouenji.

“This isn’t good. I need to stop them,” I said.

“Yeah,” replied Hirata.

Having both noticed the same thing, Hirata and I ran toward the cottage, where things were apparently already heating up. His hand balled tightly into a fist, Sudou confronted Kouenji. “Hey, you. What’s the big idea, sitting this out?! Don’t disregard the rest of us, jerk!”

When we opened the door, we could already hear Sudou’s threatening voice. He seemed ready to throw a punch any second now, but Kouenji pretended not to notice. It was a bold move. He just kept admiring his own reflection in the window, which only made Sudou angrier.

“Looks like you ain’t gonna understand unless I beat you up, Kouenji,” Sudou growled.

“No. You can’t do that, Sudou-kun. If the teachers find out—” Hirata tried to stop them, but Sudou wasn’t the kind of guy to be deterred.

“I don’t care. This is a class problem, right? It don’t even matter if I beat him up, long as this punk doesn’t go crying to the teachers,” said Sudou.

“You’re quite foul, aren’t you? I came here to enjoy some me time. Alone. As you can see, I’m feeling quite ill today. I decided to withdraw so that I wouldn’t be a burden,” said Kouenji.

“Don’t give me that bull crap! If this was just practice, that’d be one thing, but you’re skipping out on the actual event!”

I understood why Sudou was shouting. Kouenji looked to be in perfect health.

“No. Don’t, Sudou-kun!” Hirata panicked. But before he could intervene, Sudou threw a punch. He probably intended to knock sense into Kouenji, but Kouenji stopped the blow, catching the other boy’s fist in his palm. He was always doing the unexpected.

A dull slap echoed through the cottage.

“Stop. You cannot hope to beat me.” Kouenji didn’t even look at Sudou as he spoke.

Sudou hadn’t held back with that blow. Now that the other boy had blocked it easily, he had to realize Kouenji’s real strength, but that only seemed to fire him up even more. “Bring it on. I’ll smash in your nose,” Sudou growled.

“Goodness. Both you and that girl seem to consider me unreliable,” replied Kouenji.

“‘That girl?’ Who?”

“That cold girl who’s so inflamed your passion. She’s been telling me over and over that she wants me to seriously participate in the sports festival.”

“Horikita?”

Apparently, Horikita had foreseen the possibility that Kouenji would be absent from the start. Considering the fact that he had retired right away back on the uninhabited island, it made sense. Even so, I didn’t know that Horikita had been working on Kouenji without my knowledge.

“In any case, leave now. I’m not feeling well,” said Kouenji, waving us away.

“You jerk!”

To prevent a second punch from flying, Hirata stepped between Sudou and Kouenji. “Let’s all just calm down a little. Kouenji-kun’s attitude is a problem, but if he says he’s not feeling well, then he has the right to rest. Besides, violence is bad, no matter the circumstances.”

“But he’s definitely lying! He said the same thing back on the island,” said Sudou.

“That is a baseless accusation. My proud carriage serves to disguise how poor my health is,” said Kouenji.

“So, you’re planning on skipping the rest of the competitions, too, huh?”

“If I recover, I will of course participate. If I recover,” replied Kouenji.

Sudou couldn’t contain his anger anymore, but we couldn’t wait around on Kouenji forever.

“The next competition is about to begin, Sudou-kun. You’re our leader, so your absence impacts our morale,” said Hirata, switching tactics.

“Fine. I’ll head on back,” groused Sudou.

“Thank you,” said Hirata. He escorted Sudou from the cottage, and I followed a little way behind. We made it to the Red Team tent, where Sudou sat back down, clearly still irritated.

“Damn! Next time, I’m seriously going to punch that jerk,” he huffed.

His anger, rather than dissipating, only continued to swell. In keeping with the adage that “a wise man keeps away from danger,” people started giving him a wide berth.

Ike, however, was too engrossed in the girls’ race to notice Sudou’s frustration. Before I knew it, the girls’ 100-meter dash was nearly over. The final group had just entered the track.

“What are you doing, Ken? The girl you like is about to start, dude!” Ike cheerfully slapped Sudou on the back. Sudou grabbed his arm and forced Ike into a headlock.

“Gah! Dude, the hell?!”

“Stress relief,” said Sudou.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch! I give, I give!” shouted Ike.

It was a pitiful sight, but taking his anger out on Ike seemed to help Sudou. He began to calm down a little. Meanwhile, Horikita got onto the track as the race for first-year girls began.

“I suppose that I feel better watching Suzune, at least…” said Sudou.

If that was all it took to heal him, then I’d let him heal.

As I watched Sudou, Sakura appeared next to me, completely out of breath.

“Ahh…ahh…! I-It hurts…”

She must’ve used up all her energy when she ran. She was breathing very deeply, as though she was in a lot of pain.

“W-were you watching me, Ayanokouji-kun?” she asked.

She looked up at me, her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. Unfortunately, Sakura’s race took place while I was chasing Sudou, so I hadn’t seen a thing. Of course, if I told her that, she’d probably be really sad.

“You did well,” I said.

My response was brief, but filled with emotion. One fact that I could be absolutely certain of was that Sakura definitely gave everything she had.

“Th-thank you! This is the first time I didn’t come in dead last.” She beamed.

Whenever we’d practiced, Sakura was always the slowest out of everyone by far. It seemed that she’d finally beaten someone else—because of her own hard work, too, not an opponent’s mistake.

“Just don’t push yourself too hard. You might hurt yourself,” I said.

“O-okay!” she replied with a smile.

Sakura stood beside me, still breathing heavily, and looked over at the next race. I focused on the other girls who would run against Horikita. In the third lane was Ibuki Mio, a Class C student. Horikita was in the same group as her most bitter rival. What a bizarre coincidence.

Horikita didn’t even look at Ibuki, but Ibuki wore a furious expression, as though fire shot from her eyes. She was determined never to lose to Horikita, no matter what.

“Hey, I wonder if Ibuki-chan’s good at sports?” the other boys speculated.

“Hell if I know. All I know is Horikita’s gonna win, no doubt.”

There was no way the other guys could have known, but Ibuki was highly athletic. Personally, I couldn’t say for certain who would win.

When the signal sounded, seven of the girls launched themselves forward. Between the two I focused on, Ibuki had the better start. Horikita’s reaction was slightly delayed, so she lagged behind the rest of the group. However, she immediately picked up the pace and began to catch up to Ibuki, who seemed distracted. She glanced behind, perhaps curious about Horikita, and the distance between them closed. Ibuki remained stuck in the middle of the group, neither increasing nor decreasing her distance from Horikita.

As they neared the end of the race, Ibuki’s expression stiffened. She and Horikita were neck and neck, running side-by-side. Horikita, looking quite pleased with herself, managed to nudge ahead of Ibuki by a narrow margin.

“Uh oh, is she in trouble…?” muttered Sudou. His hunch turned out to be correct.

Ibuki ran harder, fighting to close the distance between herself and Horikita, who was in the lead. Horikita tried to shake her off, Ibuki just chased her down even harder. Horikita managed to cross the finish line first. After an incredible race like that, everyone erupted into cheers. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the judges would need to replay the video to be sure.

Next to the out-of-breath Horikita, Ibuki kicked the ground in frustration. I got the feeling that if she hadn’t been so concerned about Horikita, the race results would have been different. A slight gap in her awareness was the reason Horikita won.

“Those two completely outran everyone else,” said Sudou.

He was still watching Horikita even after she had finished running. Even though Horikita and Ibuki were just about evenly matched, excluding Class D, the other four girls had been pretty slow.

After the first-year students’ 100-meter dash ended, we went to check the results. Athletic people like Sudou, Horikita, and Hirata had taken first place, as expected. However, the mid-tier students we’d hoped would do well hadn’t performed so great after all.

“Come on. Get it together, everyone. Especially you! Your speed’s the only thing you’re proud of, right?” said Sudou.

“Y-yeah, but that Shibata dude’s just too good, man.”

“Nothing we can do about it. Shibata-kun’s even faster than me, after all,” said Hirata. That was true. I’d seen it during club practice.

Even though we’d gotten off to a good start overall, tracking our scores would get more complicated from here. No notebooks or phones were allowed, and though we could talk to one another about the results, we couldn’t know what the other classes were planning.

I approached Horikita, who’d just gotten back.

“That was close,” I said.

“Yes, I suppose. Ibuki was faster than I expected,” said Horikita.

Perhaps she had noticed Ibuki walking up to her, but Horikita breathed a sigh of relief.

“So, you reached out to Kouenji,” I said.

“Who told you that? Well…it seems like it was meaningless anyway.” Horikita looked over toward Kouenji’s little hideaway cottage. “I was worried he’d skip out on the competitions, and that’s exactly what happened.”

“It seems like he doesn’t care about reaching Class A.”

He would continue to loaf around as long as he didn’t get expelled. It was his decision, and nobody could convince him otherwise. However, Horikita wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Maybe if I were popular like Kushida, I could have gotten to him.”

“I don’t know about that. I don’t think he’s the type to listen to Kushida, or even Hirata,” I replied. Then again, those two wouldn’t have tried to berate Kouenji in the first place. Even though Kouenji was clearly lying about his illness, they wouldn’t have called him a liar to his face.

“To think you’d wish you could be more like Kushida,” I chided.

“I never hated her or anything.” Horikita realized that she’d slipped up, and immediately clamped her mouth shut. “You didn’t hear that,” she added.

With that, she marched off to watch the third-year students’ races, which would start soon. She was concerned for our class, but most likely also worried about her brother. Of course, it wasn’t as though her brother, the student council president, cared about his little sister’s feelings in the slightest.

Horikita’s older brother, as part of the second group to race, naturally took first place.

“He’s just as fast as I imagined,” I said.

“That’s because my brother is perfect. No matter what he does, he’s always number one,” Horikita answered. She wasn’t bragging. She said it as if it were a simple fact.

After each grade level finished the 100-meter dash, the final results were tallied. The first round of points for the Red and White teams were announced.

Red Team: 2011 points. White Team: 1891 points.

The competition had just begun, but the Red Team was slightly ahead.

6.2

T HE HURDLE RACE came next. It was like the 100-meter dash in that it was based on speed. However, that wasn’t all there was to it. You also needed to clear hurdles while running. If you knocked down or touched a hurdle, your time was penalized. If you knocked the hurdle down, the penalty was 0.5 seconds. If you only touched it, 0.3 seconds. There were ten hurdles in all, placed at ten-meter intervals. If you knocked them all down, you’d have five seconds added to your time. It’d be completely hopeless. Thus, you couldn’t rush; you had to carefully clear every hurdle.

Sudou was starting in this competition’s final group. “If you guys place last, I’m gonna slap you,” he said, arms crossed.

The unathletic students trembled at the pressure.

“Dude, what kinda tyrant are you?”

“Hey, um, is Sotomura-kun here? If he’s absent, he’ll be disqualified,” said the referee at the starting line.

“R-regrettably, it would appear that my stomach is upset. Would it be permissible for me to take an absence?” asked the Professor. He’d just barely cleared the hurdles during practice, and looked as though he was chickening out.

“Huh? Dude, it’s fine if you knock all the hurdles down. Finish the race at any cost!” shouted Sudou. He stuck his face close to the Professor’s and glared.

“Egad! O-okay, I will!” shouted the Professor.

There was a significant difference between coming in last and being disqualified. If you were disqualified, you wouldn’t get even one point. Participation was vital.

In the end, the Professor didn’t clear any hurdles. He knocked them all over and finished in last place. “Ugh, he’s useless. It’s ’cause he just sits around on his butt that he’s so fat,” grumbled Sudou. “Still, that Shibata guy is pretty good.” While he watched, he spoke as though he were telling us to be wary.

Shibata had come in first without much difficulty, and was shaping up to be Sudou’s main rival. Furthermore, like Ichinose, his leadership qualities made others rally around him.

“If we face each other head-on, though, I’ll win,” he declared.

If Shibata kept this up, Sudou’s goal of being first out of every student across every grade level would become a distant dream, especially since no one knew what the team competition results would be. It was concerning.

“Next up is the fourth group. Please get ready,” said the referee.

I got into the same lane as before, and saw Kanzaki standing in the second lane.

“We meet again,” said Kanzaki.

“Go easy on me,” I told him.

“Ichinose says you’re pretty fast,” he replied.

I didn’t know where Ichinose had gotten that idea. Then again, back during the incident with Sakura’s stalker, she might have seen me running. I hadn’t been sprinting at full speed or anything, but she must have seen enough to judge.

Ichinose had also been observing me back when I amused myself by playing with her in the pool. I supposed I couldn’t avoid her singling me out throughout the events and exams.

“She’s exaggerating. Didn’t you see my ranking in the 100-meter dash earlier? I got fifth.”

“Sure, but it didn’t seem to me that you were taking the race seriously,” Kanzaki replied.

“There’s no advantage to gain from holding back, right? You just lose,” I responded.

“When you think of it as a strategy, it’s not completely meaningless,” he said flatly.

Apparently, Ichinose and Class B really did their homework. They didn’t just know my ranking; they also understood my thought process.

“You know, you’re really calm for a high schooler,” Kanzaki added. “It’s scary.”

“Well, feel free to judge me however you want.”

A boy from Class C got between us, cutting our chat short. With the exception of Kanzaki, I didn’t really know anyone in the fourth group, which meant that I didn’t know how fast the other competitors were. If my ranking rose even a little bit, it could be bad.

When the signal came, I started running about as fast as I had before. Kanzaki overtook me, but because only one other student got in front of me, I ultimately ended up winning a fairly respectable third place. There were a lot of variables to consider, but for better or worse, I’d been able to maintain my inconspicuous position. I walked back to camp.

“Aah, jeez. I can’t keep up,” groaned Yukimura.

He was grumbling to himself, seeming downtrodden. From the looks of things, he hadn’t gotten good results during his second event.

“That bad, huh?” I asked.

“Ayanokouji? Agh, I’ve been cursed. Seventh and seventh,” he grumbled. Twice a consolation prize winner, huh? That was pretty rough.

“It all depends on your mindset, Yukimura. Even if you fail here, you can ace the written tests. Right?” I replied.

“I won’t fail, but my scores will plummet. Besides, I’ll drag down my class and my team,” said Yukimura.

Since Yukimura wanted to make it into Class A more than anyone else, he also felt the burden of responsibility more intensely than anyone. And because he normally criticized students with low academic ability, like Sudou, he was probably reluctant to show any weakness here.

I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, so I decided to give Yukimura space, and focused on the girls’ hurdle races instead. Two people I knew were running in the first race: Horikita and Sakura. Horikita, who expected to win, didn’t seem to feel any pressure. On the other hand, as bad as it sounded, we had zero expectations for Sakura. She appeared to be trembling.

“Hey, um, Horikita-san. This matchup isn’t very good, don’t you think?” said Hirata.

“Really?” replied Horikita.

Hirata, who knew a lot about the other classes, voiced his concerns after seeing the groups. The competition was just about to begin.

“Class C’s fastest students are Yajima-san and Kinoshita-san from the track and field club. They’re both in your group,” said Hirata.

“I see.”

In the debut event, the 100-meter dash, Horikita had been able to emerge victorious after a fierce battle against Ibuki, but it seemed like her trials hadn’t ended yet.

“Winning might be difficult.”

Hirata turned out to be right. Horikita threw everything she had into the race, but the two from Class C got ahead of her, and she ended in third place. After the race finished, Hirata looked over at me. I could tell that he felt uneasy about the way the composition of Horikita’s group had turned out.

6.3

T HE NEXT COMPETITION was capture the flag. Though simple, it was still a fierce and slightly dangerous event.

“All right. We’re definitely winning this one, guys. Since that moron Kouenji ain’t here, we’ve gotta get that much more fired up!” shouted Sudou.

He was trying to inspire the Class A and D guys assembled in front of him. They were facing off against the guys from Class B, led by Kanzaki and Shibata, and from Class C, led by Ryuuen. Some particularly formidable-looking Class C students were in that group, although we didn’t know them. There were Sakazaki and Komiya, two students who had been involved in that fight with Sudou a while back. There was also a large, brawny half-Japanese and half-black student named Yamada. I’d seen him around school on occasion, and wondered just how strong he really was.

Well, regardless of our numbers, there was nothing to do but fight with everything we had. According to the game rules, the group that made two captures would win. During their earlier discussion, Katsuragi and Hirata had decided that our classes would swap back and forth between offense and defense. Dividing us up into offense and defense would have been too risky. This way, it would be easier to understand and to cooperate.

Class D would be on the offensive first, while Class A would protect the flag. If we successfully got a head start, we’d prioritize keeping that momentum and continue with our roles.

“Well, don’t worry. I’ll beat our enemies to a pulp single-handed,” said Sudou.

“Uh, but aren’t you supposed to go after the flag?” I was getting a little worried.

“Can’t make any promises. I’m all pissed off, thanks to Kouenji. Grr,” Sudou growled.

He flipped the other team off, not even trying to hide his hostility.

“Better keep my distance,” Ike muttered. He and the others backed away from Sudou, afraid of getting involved. I thought that was wise.

The offensive team (mainly Sudou, though) waited impatiently for the starting whistle, standing at the ready. On the other hand, the defensive team—consisting of Katsuragi and the others—checked the status of their formation several times over, making sure to establish a solid defense.

Blatant violence, like punching and kicking, was naturally prohibited. However, the school would overlook a certain degree of roughhousing. Pushing, grabbing, and such were expected.

“Ugh. I’m starting to feel a little scared. This is the first time I’ve played capture the flag.”

“Wait. Didn’t you have it in a junior-high sports festival or something?”

“No one ever told me that it was gonna be dangerous! Have you played this game before, Ayanokouji?”

“Nope. This is a first for me, too,” I replied.

“The hell, dude? A first for you, too?”

While we were still in the middle of our boring conversation, the signal went off. Sudou charged in headfirst, ahead of everyone else. Soon the more assertive players followed right after him.

“Dude, this is bad! Let’s go, Ayanokouji! I really don’t want Sudou to kill me for trying to skip out!” Ike wailed.

The less-aggressive students included Ike, Yukimura, and myself. We slowly brought up the rear. Like us, the B and C group had neatly divided their forces between offense and defense. Cooperation was more difficult for them than it was for us, after all. It looked as though Class B was defending the flag in the first round. They waited for us up ahead.

It was forbidden for an attacking team to come into contact with the other side’s attacking team. The rules stated that the offense had to focus as much as possible on capturing the flag.

“Anyone who wants to die, bring it!” Sudou let out this outrageous roar as he dove right into the opponents’ defensive line. Using his height, and a level of power unimaginable for a first-year high schooler, he tore through the students around the flag, one after another.

“Stop him! Stop Sudou!” shouted someone from Class B. A number of students on the defending team surrounded Sudou.

“Hey, you guys. Come quick! Here, I’ll clear the way!” yelled Sudou, not even looking back while he shouted instructions to his advancing allies. Of course, it wasn’t that simple. As the situation grew increasingly chaotic, the players kicked up dust to cloud the air. The playing field was turning into a battleground. I decided to make myself as useless and inoffensive as possible, and relied on the Class B students to overcome the situation.

“Shit. Just how many of you are gonna come after me?!”

Three or four guys pushed up against Sudou, managing to overpower him. The advancing group got cut off just as they were on the brink of breaking through. Class D’s problem was that, despite Sudou’s offensive and penetrative powers, no one else could claim to be particularly strong. Students who were especially unaggressive, like the Professor and me, inevitably became a weak link in our offense. By contrast, many Class B students had above-average strength.

“Dude. This is bad, Ken! Class A! That one half-Japanese guy, Yamada or whatever, he’s going on a rampage!”

“Huh?!”

Sudou turned around to look. The Red Team’s flag, which Class A had been protecting, looked slightly askew. Class C was full of violent people like Sudou. Actually, it was full of students who were almost martial artists, in a way. Our defenses must’ve looked easy for them to break through. It was pretty clear who held the advantage. If Ryuuen ordered them to attack us, we’d end fighting like our lives depended on it.

We needed to do something. But four or five people blocked Sudou—our side’s crucial player—so he was helpless. We were completely locked down. Sudou desperately tried to race for the flag, but unfortunately, the whistle blew. I couldn’t help but admire his tenacity for trying to take them all on at once. In the end, the White Team managed to get the first point.

“Ah, come on! What are you guys even doing?! C’mon, fight like your lives depend on it!” shouted Sudou.

While he glared at the tragically toppled flag, he directed his anger at the rest of Class D, since we hadn’t mounted a successful attack.

“Dude, you telling us that doesn’t help. It’s just, like, those guys are really strong, you know? Ouch! Uh, I got a scrape, man.”

“Come on, it’s just a scratch! Grit your teeth and man up. I don’t care what you do. Bite, kick ’em in the knees, but do something to fight back, man! You’re useless!” shouted Sudou.

I understood how he felt, but either of those actions could be considered foul play, and a way to get expelled in one go.

“There’s no use complaining. They won the first round. Next time, let’s make sure to protect our flag properly,” said Hirata, gently patting Sudou on the shoulder.

“Tch. All right, this time we’re definitely gonna protect our flag. Right, everyone?!”

“Y-yeah, we got it. We’ll do whatever we can.”

“No, don’t just ‘do whatever you can.’ We’re definitely protecting it, for sure. Even if it’s for an hour—or two hours!”

Class D also lacked things like unity and motivation. That included yours truly, of course, but most people were really lacking in ambition. Meanwhile, Class B was completely united. The students were highly motivated, so they made formidable foes.

“Ayanokouji, don’t let the flag go down, even if you die! Even if it’s just a joke, you’re still number two in the class!” said Sudou.

Apparently, ranking right below Sudou in terms of strength meant that I needed to protect the flag alongside him. I couldn’t slack off with him watching.

“All right, no screwing around! We can’t let ’em get another win! I’m gonna send that jerk Ryuuen flying!”

During the first round, Ryuuen had been on the attacking team. However, he had really just stayed back and observed, probably because they were already dominating our side. Sudou likely hated that.

“All right. Come on and attack, C. Come and attack us, C,” Sudou muttered.

He could mutter all he liked, but if Class C assembled and launched an attack, we’d be in trouble. It would be better for us if Class B went on the offense. The second round was about to begin. Then, sure enough…

“They’re coming! They’re coming, they’re coming!”

Apparently, things were progressing exactly as Sudou wished—though it came as a bit of a surprise to me. The powerful Class C students geared up to launch their attack, Ryuuen laughing fearlessly from the rear. As if he were a general commanding his troops in battle, he gave the order to charge immediately after the starting signal. A simple “knock it over” came from his lips, and his terrified soldiers stormed toward us.

Students who looked as big and brawny as Sudou rushed us headfirst. The Class D students screamed. Our outer wall of defense was rapidly crumbling.

“Stand! Grab their legs and pull them down!” Our opponents’ angry roars drowned out Sudou’s words of encouragement.

The Class C students repeatedly used elbow strikes, which were nearly foul play. In practically no time at all, they broke through to the center. Katsuragi from Class A had also advanced to where he could nearly touch their flag, but I wondered if he’d make it in time.

“Gah!”

I heard an agonized cry from Sudou, who was supporting the already-tilted flag. The half-Japanese guy, Yamada, had gotten up close. His physical mass far surpassed Sudou’s. The flag we were supposed to be protecting was already slightly slanted.

“Who the hell punched me in the stomach?!”

In the chaos, someone had attacked Sudou directly. Judging by how angry and pained he sounded, it probably hadn’t been just once or twice, either. However, there was nothing Sudou could do about it. With our flag in his hands, all he could do was bear it and brace himself, like a turtle trying to hide in its shell.

“Ow. Damn. That hurts, you jerks!”

However, Class C showed no sign of stopping. Sudou fell to his knees in pain. I commended his fighting spirit as he continued to protect our flag. Then, someone stomped on his back with all their might. It was as if the assailant were trying to assert his dominance, like he was a king.

“Gah?!”

It was a fiendishly low blow, even in the midst of a particularly messy and chaotic match. Of course, the perpetrator was none other than Ryuuen.

“Y-you bastard! Ugh!”

Ryuuen bore down hard again mercilessly, with such force that I feared he might break Sudou’s spine. When Sudou collapsed, the flag lost its support, producing a cloud of dust as it fell to the ground. In the blink of an eye, it was over.

Still collapsed on the ground, Sudou glared up at Ryuuen.

“Uh-uh, you jerk. That was foul play!”

“Hmm? Oh, I didn’t notice you,” replied Ryuuen. He picked up the flag without any hesitation. Sudou tried to go after him, but due to the pain, couldn’t yet stand back up. The Class D and A coalition had suffered a great loss.

“Hey, is your back okay?”

“Ugh. I think I’m all right, somehow. Damn! Goddamn it!” Sudou’s anger at having been the victim of such foul play seemed greater than his pain. He couldn’t contain himself. “That smug ass! The next time I run into him, I’m gonna lay him out flat!”

“You’d only cause another scandal. Do you want a repeat of last time?” I asked. I was referring to the day when Sudou got into a fight with Class C students, and was almost expelled as a result. If he initiated a fight here, then he would be punished.

“So, it’s okay when he does it, but not when I do it?! Look at my back!” Sudou shouted.

“I get it, but they’ll probably just claim it happened in the heat of the moment,” I told him.

Ryuuen and Sudou were both trying to do the same thing, but there was an overwhelming difference in their technique. This time, the act had taken place in the middle of the competition, when the students were all entangled in a dusty, chaotic mess. At any rate, he’d been clever about his tactic.

“Ah, I’m so pissed! And here I was, planning on winning every contest!” he grumbled.

The Class A students could hear this, and some guys sent glares Sudou’s way. Katsuragi stopped them before they could retort. “I apologize that we weren’t of much use,” he said.

“No, I should apologize. It’s because we couldn’t protect the flag. Let’s do our best in the next game,” replied Hirata.

Only Katsuragi and Hirata had calmly accepted the outcome of the event. For the time being, we disbanded and returned to our own tents.

6.4

W ITH NO TIME TO REST , the first-year boys got ready for the tug-of-war. Meanwhile, the first-year girls were making steady progress in their ball toss. The team competitions continued. I hadn’t paid much attention at first, but the competition order was fairly arduous. It took a lot out of us.

“How much of a gap between the teams do you think there is now?” asked Sudou.

“Dunno. Things just got started. No use thinking about it yet,” I answered.

“That’s true, I guess. Still, a loss is a loss. They’re one step ahead of us now, right?” said Sudou. He fidgeted, his legs shaking while he watched the girls’ match, unable to stand the fact that we’d lost. “It’ll be good if the girls win this one, at least,” he muttered.

Because we were some distance away, we couldn’t clearly discern how the ball toss would end. All I could think was that it looked like a close battle. The game finished soon afterward, and the teacher in charge counted up the points while clearing away the balls.

“With fifty-four points total, the Red Team wins.”

The girls had canceled out the boys’ disappointing capture-the-flag results. Our relief was fleeting because the referee called us over to start the tug-of-war.

“All right, let’s do this!” said Sudou.

“Hey, is your back okay, Ken?” asked Ike.

“S’okay. I’m tougher than most, so I’m all right. Besides, even if it hurts, there’s nothing I can do about it, so it ain’t no problem,” said Sudou.

Even though we were worried, Sudou stood strong. The rules for tug-of-war were extremely simple. It was almost exactly the same as capture the flag; the first team to get two points won.

“If we make a comeback in the tug-of-war, we can turn the team competitions around. Besides, in tug-of-war, there’s no physical contact. That means both sides have to rely purely on their own strength. It shouldn’t turn into some ridiculous brawl,” said Hirata.

Hirata was always mindful of those around him. Sudou looked pleased.

“Guess you’re right. That’s exactly why we can’t lose this,” Sudou said.

A pure test of strength; our power and wits against theirs. Who would triumph? As the four classes gathered, we split into two groups to the left and right. Katsuragi drew near Hirata and whispered something quietly into the other boy’s ear.

“Okay. Just like we discussed, we’ll use our strategy to beat them in a single stroke. Sound good?” asked Katsuragi.

“Yes. Got it. All right, everyone. Get in position,” said Hirata.

We’d come up with a strategy under their leadership, like we did for capture the flag. After Hirata gave us instructions, Class D split up and took our positions on the field. The strategy was simple, boiling down to “line up in order of height.” By doing so, we could apply our strength without any unevenness. The opposing team would see this, but even if they tried to imitate us, they couldn’t line up by height in such a short time span.

However, our Class D/A coalition already had another problem. Unlike the guys in Class D, half the Class A guys didn’t budge an inch.

“Hey, Katsuragi-kun, stop ordering us around,” said one boy.

“What do you mean by that, Hashimoto?” asked Katsuragi.

Hashimoto took one step forward. A tall, somewhat distant-looking guy, he had his long hair swept to the back of his head. He wore a gentle expression, but he had harsh, cynical eyes.

“Exactly what I said. It’s your fault that Class A is in a slump now. Are you sure this strategy will let us win?” asked Hashimoto.

Hashimoto was officially challenging their leader, and I couldn’t imagine that he was acting alone. The timing was too strange. While Class A focused on Katsuragi and Hashimoto, I looked back toward our camp, searching for Sakayanagi. Sakayanagi, who’d been observing from the very beginning, wore a thin smile. Even from a distance, she could clearly see that the boys were fighting. It could only mean one thing.

She instigated this whole situation. Perhaps she intended to do whatever it took to crush her opposition, Katsuragi. Her behavior was unsettling, but in a different way than Ryuuen’s. Personally, I found it inefficient.

“What do you say, Katsuragi-kun? Can we really win?” asked Hashimoto.

Despite the fact that he’d been betrayed, Katsuragi didn’t appear to be panicking. “We’re upsetting Class D. We should proceed calmly,” he replied.

“That’s not an answer.”

Katsuragi had tried to calm them down, but the half of Class A following Hashimoto showed no sign of obedience.

“Hey, Katsuragi-san’s telling you to do something. Hurry up and do it! Enough with the shameful behavior!” Yahiko, from Katsuragi’s faction, shouted at Sakayanagi’s faction. He thrust the rope toward one of the rebels.

“I understand the doubts you might have about my leadership. But if we lose because of meaningless bickering, it won’t be our lack of cooperation or skill to blame. It will be Sakayanagi’s fault. Do you want that?” asked Katsuragi.

“You really are blind, huh, Katsuragi-kun?” Hashimoto sneered. The referee approached us, looking as though he was about to give us a warning. Hashimoto gripped the rope and settled into his designated position. “Shall we? Like you said, it would be ever so annoying if we made you think we weren’t cooperating.”

Class A’s internal strife seemed to have subsided for the time being. We got into position.

“Man, those Class A guys really are bloodthirsty, aren’t they?”

“I’m really, really worried now. They might just be a bunch of noodle-armed nerds, after all.”

Even Sudou could tell that Class A’s internal conflict was dangerous. At any rate, everyone followed Katsuragi and Hirata’s orders, and lined up in order of height. Sudou, the most confident in his strength, was the farthest back.

On the opposing side, the B/C group didn’t seem to be cooperating, their forces cleanly divided by class. Class B took charge at the front of the rope, but they chose the strategy opposite ours, lining up with the tallest in front. Since Class C had lined up completely at random, their lineup would just fall apart. They did have some tough-looking students in the far back, I supposed, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were a mess.

“Heh! Class B put their biggest dudes up way up in front. They just don’t get it at all, do they?” Sudou gloated.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that’s true. When you’re pulling the rope, an elevated position is advantageous,” said Hirata.

Cooperation between the two classes wasn’t possible, so instead, Class B aimed to take advantage of their alignment.

“Even so, that don’t change the fact that we got the advantage. Come on, let’s do this!” shouted Sudou.

Just then the signal went off, and we immediately pulled on the rope.

“And pull! And pull!”

The D/A coalition worked together with great vigor, shouting the standard tug-of-war battle cry. At first, it looked as though the two sides were evenly matched, but after a few seconds, the game started to shift in our favor.

“Go, go, go! Come on, easy!”

Before long, we heard the signal that the match had ended, and that the D/A team had scored a point.

“Hell yeah! You see that?! Serves ’em right!” Sudou howled.

In response, the Class B guys confronted Class C, their discontent obvious. “Hey, it’ll be really bad if we don’t work together, you know? These guys are crazy strong,” Shibata said to Ryuuen.

But Ryuuen ignored him. “All right, time to switch things up. Line up with the shortest in front,” he barked at his class instead. He clearly had no intention whatsoever of taking Class B’s opinion into account. He issued directions to the scattered Class C, adjusting them so that they stood in order of height. We now formed a perfect bow shape.

Shibata shook his head, shouted words of encouragement to his class, and grabbed the rope once more.

“We got this. With those guys lined up like that, there’s no way they’ll win,” said Sudou.

“We can’t say that for sure. Everyone, keep your guard up. The next round won’t be like the first,” said Katsuragi.

“Why, though? It was an easy win, man. Look, they ain’t even lining up by height, like we are,” said Ike.

Ike guffawed, laughing it up and making light of the situation as he gripped onto the rope. Katsuragi tried to speak up once more, but the break between rounds had ended, and it was time for round two.

The signal went off.

“And pull! And pull!”

The D/A coalition pulled, just like we did the first time. However, facing a new level of resistance caused our group to panic a little. No matter how hard we pulled, the rope didn’t budge. Anxiety started to creep in.

“Hey, you guys better stick this out. If you lose here, I’ll kill you,” warned Ryuuen.

We felt an intense surge of power come from our opponents’ side, starting to drag us over the line. It couldn’t possibly have been that their strength welled up just from Ryuuen’s one command alone. Something about the bow-like shape of this arrangement gave them more leverage.

“Geh! Ow! Oww!”

I could hear pained cries from Ike and the others holding the rope in the rear. I was also pulling with everything I had, but the resistance I felt was completely unlike the first round. This game of tug-of-war was pretty evenly matched. I wondered if our difference in willpower was determining the results. The D/A coalition was dragged forward, little by little, until we lost. We’d just dominated the last round, so some of the students thought it was our fault.

“The hell? Why was it different from before?! Hey, is someone holding back?!” The students on our team started to turn on their allies.

Katsuragi immediately stepped up and spoke.

“Calm down. We lost because our opponents used the right formation to beat us. Of course, it’s probably true that some students on our side felt overly confident going into the second round. Understand that, even if our opponent’s teamwork is in shambles, they can still put up a fight. Brace yourselves, focus your minds, and make sure to check your position. Also, when you pull, make sure that you do it at an angle.”

Katsuragi gave us a light reprimand, some sound advice, and instructions to get back into position. He was doing the best he possibly could with what little time we had. On the other hand, even though the opposing side wasn’t able to achieve cooperation between both classes, each class came together individually. There was Class B, which was wholly focused on pulling the rope, and Class C behind them on standby. If Ryuuen gave them the order, they would definitely be spurred to action.

“Okay, you did fairly well. We just have to do the same thing one more time. Those pieces of garbage think they can win. Let’s teach them a thing or two,” said Ryuuen.

I should have expected that they’d be able to succeed, even though they weren’t given any kind of concrete instructions.

Once both sides were ready, the crucial third round began.

“And pull! And pull! Pull!”

Just like before, things weren’t decided immediately. The white flag attached to the rope fluttered above the center line without moving.

“Keep on it, guys! We’re definitely going to win!” shouted Sudou. At his words, everyone started working together in unison.

“And pull! And pull!”

The white flag moved slightly toward the D/A coalition’s side. No matter how strong they were, victory probably wouldn’t be determined by strength alone.

“No slacking off! Come on, one more pull! Puuullll!” shouted Sudou, bellowing a war cry. He was pouring everything he had into one last tug—but that ended up being our downfall.

Suddenly, the incredible resistance we’d been facing vanished, and everyone on our side tumbled over backward. The students, including Sudou, were unable to grasp what had happened right away. While still on the ground, they started yelling at one another.

Our opponents had let go of the rope.

“Hey, what the hell? Don’t screw with us!” Some Class B students had fallen over, too, so they clearly hadn’t expected this turn of events. Before long, everyone directed their ire toward Ryuuen and his group.

“I decided to take a break, since I thought we couldn’t win,” said Ryuuen. So, they’d given up? He turned to us and sneered. “Good for you. You managed to pick up a meaningless win. It’s hilarious to see you all crawling on the ground.”

Even though he’d lost, Ryuuen smiled, clearly enjoying himself.

“Jerk!”

The opposing teams’ attitudes alone would’ve made it difficult to tell who the winner was here. Sudou stood up and charged at Ryuuen from his backline position, still angry over the capture-the-flag incident. However, Katsuragi, who had been in front of me, hurriedly grabbed Sudou’s arms and stopped him.

“Stop, Sudou. This is all part of Ryuuen’s plan. He wants to make us waste our energy. He might also be trying to egg us on to violence, so that we’re accused of foul play.”

“But—”

“What they did was unsportsmanlike, but it wasn’t a violation of the rules,” said Katsuragi.

Katsuragi wasn’t in Class A for no reason. His control was masterful. Ryuuen turned his back on us, perhaps because he knew that further provocation would get him nothing.

“Okay, get up!” he shouted at his group. The boys from Class C immediately stood. I imagined Class B had their own complaints.

“It looks like we got lucky. Thank goodness we don’t have to try working with Class C,” said Katsuragi as he patted Sudou on the shoulder.

“Man… We won, but I don’t feel good about it at all. Damn it,” Sudou grumbled.

I understood his feelings. We’d finally won a team competition, but Ryuuen managed to put a damper on it. Far from feeling ecstatic about the win, we were all frowning a little. With the tug-of-war ended, we went back to our tents.

On the way, Katsuragi came up to Hirata and offered him a quiet apology. “Sorry for earlier. I wasn’t able to lead my class,” he told Hirata.

“Oh, please, don’t worry about it. It’s our fault we let our guard down in the second round. Right?” Hirata looked to me for confirmation, so I nodded.

“Things are rough in Class A, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Katsuragi didn’t elaborate any further on the matter. All we knew for certain was that he seemed to be in quite a difficult position. Meanwhile, Sudou had already shifted gears to thinking about the upcoming competition.

“Next up is the obstacle course race. If anyone does bad, I’m gonna lay ’em flat,” said Sudou.

“Ugh. Why do you have to hit us?”

“’Cause I’m the leader. I need to kick the asses of the people under me. It’s a tough job,” said Sudou.

No one really wanted such a leader, but you couldn’t exactly oppose Sudou.

“For reference, what outcomes would you consider disappointing?”

“Ain’t that obvious, dude? I won’t accept anything besides victory!”

“Harsh!”

6.5

“H AH…HAH… Man, I ran my heart out, and I still only got sixth place! H-has Ken not gone up yet? Puh…” Ike breathed heavily as he fell to his knees. He was probably terrified of Sudou’s wrath. “You don’t think he’d get, like, fourth place or something, do you?”

I understood Ike’s concern. If Sudou didn’t win his own race, he’d surely take that out on the rest of the group.

“What place did you get, Ayanokouji?” Ike demanded. “Will you get Sudou’s death penalty?”

“Just barely managed third place,” I answered.

“Ugh, no way. Seriously? Man, talk about being saved by the lineup,” said Ike.

He goes along with Sudou’s nonsense yet again. Well, it seemed like invoking Sudou’s ire would be a hassle. That was why I decided to put in a little effort.

“Looks like Sudou-kun is going up against Shibata-kun.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Shibata was doing light warm-up exercises as he waited for his race to start. Sudou had a formidable opponent.

“Huh?! Wait—the other guys Ken’s up against are Nomura and Suzuki! Dude, not fair!”

Ike looked genuinely frustrated upon seeing what a fortunate lineup Sudou had. The two Class C students in question were said to be especially unathletic. The two Class A students in the group weren’t really that good, either, so Sudou’s victory was pretty much guaranteed.

However, Shibata was different. He was rumored to be Class B’s fastest runner, and he was undoubtedly going to fight to reach first place. In the two competitions leading up to this, he had won first both times.

“Who do you think’s going to win?” I asked Hirata. He knew Shibata well.

“I don’t know, honestly. Shibata-kun is quite fast, so I don’t think he’ll lose that easily. If it were a purely straightforward match, Shibata-kun might take first place, but Sudou-kun overcame all the obstacles without much difficulty during practice. I think it’s going to be an incredible race.”

Knowing both their abilities, Hirata wasn’t sure. Sudou thought that there was no possible way he could lose. Hopefully, his pride wouldn’t get in the way of his running. I put aside my worries as the race started.

Both Sudou and Shibata got off to a good start. They were neck and neck as they headed toward the first obstacle, the balance beam. Though Sudou was tall and large, he was able to cross the narrow balance beam faster than anyone else. He had incredible balance. Shibata was in second place. Despite the fact that he lagged slightly behind Sudou, he also managed to safely cross the beam.

After sprinting a short distance, they crawled through a net placed on the ground. Sudou advanced like some kind of wild beast. Shibata chased after him, looking as though he was having fun. The last obstacle was a sack race. Everyone jumped in their sacks and started hopping. Sudou managed to clear the race with dexterity that belied his large frame, but Shibata was closing the distance between them.

“This is the most intense match so far today,” said Hirata.

Sudou and Shibata seemed to be physically matched, so it looked as if they were trying to change up their strategies. Shibata kept a steady pace. Sudou started to rush for the first time. He probably heard Shibata closing in on him. However, Sudou managed to stay ahead, and in the end, was the first to cut through the tape at the finish line. Going all out like that clearly affected him. Even from this distance, you could see him breathing heavily.

Sudou and Shibata had been evenly matched in speed. It was like Hirata had said: in pure speed alone, Shibata might actually have been superior. Sudou wasn’t invincible after all; his performance depended on the competition and the timing.

In any case, Sudou had managed to win first place three times in a row. He was, without question, one of the best athletes in our entire school.

Sudou, making his proud return, immediately confronted a shrinking Ike. “Hey. I was watching you, Kanji! The hell, man, sixth place?!”

“H-hey, you almost didn’t get first just now, dude! We’re practically equal!” blubbered Ike.

This equality was utterly imaginary. Sudou pinned Ike’s arms behind his back, putting him in a nelson hold.

“Phew. Got first place. Still, though, that Shibata guy was really fast. Thankfully, I managed to beat ’im,” said Sudou.

Shibata dropping down to second place after clinching first twice in a row was great for Sudou, who was aiming to be best across every grade level.

6.6

W E DIDN’T HAVE ANY TIME to slack off before we needed to prepare for the three-legged race. Meanwhile, it looked as though things were getting rocky for the first-year girls on the obstacle course. Horikita was doing her best to make up for her earlier results, but the two Class C students had put some distance between themselves and her right at the start of the race.

“I’ve seen this happen before.”

“Looks like she’s in the same group as Yajima-san and Kinoshita-san again.”

Horikita was gifted at both athletics and academics, but trying to beat someone who specialized in one of those two wasn’t an easy task. When the race started, Kinoshita had dashed forward, bolting straight toward the balance beam. She made it there first and put a lot of distance between herself and those behind her. Yajima was now in second place. Horikita followed in third.

Unlike the 100-meter dash or the hurdle race, both of which relied purely on speed and stamina, there were numerous unknown variables in the obstacle course. After the girls passed the balance beam, the distance between them shrank until they were practically all neck and neck.

“Looks like she’s got a chance.”

Sudou cheered Horikita on, his hands tightly balled into fists. By the time the girls started crawling through the net, Horikita had taken the lead. However, Kinoshita was fast. In between obstacles, she closed and shortened the distance between herself and Horikita. She managed to stay in second place.

Yajima wasn’t about to be thrown out of first. Horikita sprinted forward with everything she had to try and steal second place. When Kinoshita was thrown off balance during the obstacle course’s final leg, the sack race, Horikita closed the distance between them. When she passed the girl, Horikita raced forward as quickly as possible. The distance between herself and Kinoshita could only have been one or two seconds.

Horikita ran at top speed for the final fifty meters of the race. However, she must have been concerned about Kinoshita closing in on her, because she repeatedly glanced over her shoulder. That caused her speed to drop, and soon the two were once again side by side. Suddenly Horikita, who’d been trying to slip past Kinoshita, and Kinoshita, who was trying to catch up, became entangled and fell down.

“Whoa! Hey, something big just happened!”

I was too far away, so I couldn’t tell who had run into whom. It looked to have happened as part of their mad scramble. While they got back up, other students passed them by, and Horikita and Kinoshita plummeted to the bottom of the rankings. They both desperately struggled to get back on their feet amid a cloud of dust.

Although they kept going, the incident affected them. In the end, Horikita finished in an unbelievable seventh place. Kinoshita ended up getting last place due to significant pain in her leg, which rendered her unable to continue to run. She must’ve been pretty unhappy about it since she’d expected to place first.

Horikita had placed first, then third, and now seventh. We had no choice but to say that it’d been an unfortunate accident.

“…………”

“What’s the matter, Ayanokouji-kun?”

“If an ‘accident’ were to happen again, that might be too much to believe,” I answered. This was the first time I was mentioning it.

“You think so, too? I’d say the others are also starting to realize that. This doesn’t bode well,” Hirata replied.

Unfortunately, he was right on the money. “I wonder if other students have noticed this. Can I leave you to take care of everyone?” I asked.

“Of course. That’s my role, after all. But isn’t there something we can do?”

“I wish,” I answered.

It was a relief to see Hirata accept the task without even a hint of disgust. I headed over to Horikita, who had a sullen look on her face. Her body language also clearly conveyed her dismay.

“Does it hurt?” I asked her.

“A little. But it won’t affect the competition. If I rest, I’ll be okay.”

She tried to look tough, but she was having a difficult time just sitting down. Preparing myself to be pummeled, I lightly touched her injury.

“Ow!”

“This isn’t going to affect the competition, huh?”

“Don’t just go touching me. Leave me alone. I’ll grin and bear it,” said Horikita.

To be in a position of so much responsibility could be hard. Especially for people like Horikita, who took pride in her ability to produce results.

“Well, I suppose you won’t get any points if you withdraw. I understand your desire to hang on.”

I expected her to glare at me for poking her, but she changed the topic. “More importantly, that girl’s a sneak. It’s like she was looking to hurt me,” said Horikita.

“What do you mean?”

“While she was running behind me, she called my name over and over.”

So, that was why Horikita had looked behind so many times during the race.

“I found it strange, obviously. As soon as I turned back to see her, we ran into each other. It looked like an accident, but if so, then why was she calling my name? I wanted to speak up about it.”

There was a good chance this had been an orchestrated attack to make Horikita fall.

“Honestly, I can’t keep up with this. To think that we’re still in the middle…” she muttered.

She was the third student to be injured. One second-year had fallen during the race, and had to withdraw because of the pain, but that at least had seemed to be an isolated incident among the upperclassmen.

“Anyway,” Horikita said. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself. Your results are worse than mine, aren’t they?” She currently had thirty points. I had twenty-seven.

“I’ll do everything I can. But don’t push yourself, all right?”

“I’ll participate, even if I have to crawl,” said Horikita.

I left her and started preparing for the next competition, the three-legged race.

“How’s Horikita-san doing?” asked Hirata. He sounded worried.

“It’s pretty serious. It’ll probably affect other events,” I replied.

“This is bad,” he responded.

Hirata and I continued talking while he tied our legs together for the first-year boys’ three-legged race. The races followed right on one another’s heels. It was incredible execution on the school’s part, structured as effectively as a live television program.

Because a three-legged race meant two people per team, only a scant four teams could run at once. Sudou, who was one group ahead of us, was starting the race. He was partnered with Ike, and clearly still suppressing a lot of bottled-up rage. This partnership might’ve appeared risky, but with a certain method, they could seize victory.

In a sense, this was the ultimate three-legged race. Sudou bolted down the track with all his strength, practically carrying Ike with him. He’d been ferocious and determined from the very first step.

“Aaahhh!” Ike cried in agony. It came close to foul play, but still just barely counted. They successfully nabbed first place, Sudou forcibly supporting Ike so that he wouldn’t collapse.

“Sudou-kun can be incredibly reliable, can’t he?” asked Hirata.

I felt sorry for Sudou since Ike had been chosen to be his partner, but he probably felt satisfied with the outcome.

“Yeah, he certainly is. But if we want to win, then Sudou alone isn’t enough,” I replied. If Sudou was uncontrollable, he could very well be a double-edged sword that would hurt us.

“All right, we’re up next,” said Hirata.

We started the race. Fortunately, no other notable people were running with us. Since we were highly compatible partners, we ended up finishing in first place. No one could complain about that.

“Whooo! Hirata-kun’s so cool!”

However, it was painful to listen to all the girls cheer only for Hirata.

Next came the first-year girls’ three-legged race. Horikita, who was learning to compromise, and Kushida, always willing to compromise, were paired and set to go for the second round. It was time for them to demonstrate the results of their practice.

The two of them talked very little. Their relationship was especially awful, but maybe a desire to win would bridge that gap. To me, they were a truly bizarre pair. To be fair, I was the only one privy to their situation. To the rest of Class D, they probably looked like a safe, reliable team.

They got off to a good start, taking second place. Not bad. Cheers came from the onlookers.

“Go, Suzune!” Sudou got a little carried away and called out Horikita’s still-forbidden first name. His voice probably didn’t reach her, though, so he was likely safe.

However, Horikita and Kushida slowed down, and their ranking dropped. Before we knew it, two girls from Class A took first place. They were beautiful young women with the same haughty aura as Horikita. The Class C team, which included Yajima, came second.

“Something seems off,” I muttered.

“Huh? What does?” asked Sudou, who’d been cheering for Horikita.

“Well, Horikita’s movements look stiff,” I replied.

“Now that you mention it, yeah. They do,” said Sudou.

During practice, Horikita had always pulled her partner along, but in the actual event, Kushida was taking the lead. At first, I wondered if it was because she’d been partnered up with Kushida. But just as I’d expected, Horikita’s leg pain was affecting her.

She was desperately pushing herself to keep up, but her body just couldn’t handle it. The gap between the first and second place teams began to widen, rather than shrink. In last place came the Class B pair. Horikita and Kushida shifted into the next lane so that they wouldn’t lose. Were they trying to obstruct Class B?

Class B doggedly tried to slip past, but couldn’t, since they were moving at the same speed as Horikita and Kushida. The audience cheered at this struggle for third place. Focusing too much on obstructing Class B meant that Horikita and Kushida let their guard down for a moment, which gave Class B a chance to turn things around.

“Awww, that’s so disappointing!”

They did their best, but Horikita and Kushida came in last. Our victory was, once again, far out of reach.

6.7

W E HAD A TEN-MINUTE BREAK , so people went to the bathroom, or off to get a drink of water. Horikita said that she was going to the nurse’s office for a poultice and headed toward the school. I supposed it was better than nothing.

I didn’t go anywhere. Instead, I stayed and observed the other classes. It was possible to pick up all sorts of information just by observing from afar. Class A was especially interesting, as I’d suspected.

The rivalry between Katsuragi and Sakayanagi was visible from my location. The two distinct factions were obvious; there was practically no contact at all between them. It was by no means strange for a class to have two appointed leaders. Even though Hirata was the head of our own class, we still had Karuizawa and Kushida, and Sudou was leading us in this sports festival. Despite many upheavals, however, Class D wasn’t fractured by infighting the way Class A was. We hadn’t witnessed it in any of the prior exams, but their blatant hostility was incredibly clear during this festival.

“Amazing that they’ve gotten this far with such internal discord,” I said.

Sakayanagi’s faction had greater numbers. When Hirata came back from washing his hands, I decided to ask him a question. “What kind of student is Sakayanagi?”

“So, you’re also curious about her, Ayanokouji-kun?”

“Well, yeah. I got curious when I heard that she matched Katsuragi as a leader,” I replied.

I didn’t understand Sakayanagi’s mindset, her way of doing things. During this festival, she hadn’t given a single order, remaining completely silent. Still, she looked as if she were plotting to get in Katsuragi’s way. She wasn’t interested in fighting with other classes; her focus was on Class A alone. It looked as though she was willing to lose out on points if it meant Katsuragi’s downfall.

Of course, there was the possibility that she was inciting this hostility so that she could dominate the class. However, it called to mind the phrase “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Cooperation was expected in order to defeat the other classes.

“She’s very polite, she’s good with people, and she’s mature. I didn’t think there was anything especially strange about her. Students from other classes probably feel the same, but it seems like Class A disagrees. I’ve heard people say that Sakayanagi is aggressive and ruthless,” said Hirata.

However, we couldn’t just take the word of her opponents as gospel, either. We hadn’t even had a conversation with her yet. Besides, it’d be hard for her to interfere in the sports festival. Since her body prevented her from physical exertion, she might not intend to act openly.

“I don’t think we need to be concerned about Class A right now. We’re allies here, after all.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” At the very least, Class A probably wasn’t scheming to get in our way or anything. Nothing like that had happened so far.

On the other hand, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Class C was plotting to disrupt us somehow. I looked toward their camp and saw male students gathered around Ryuuen, as if he were a king holding court.

Right now, his strategy was the most alien of all. Even in the sports festival, he was trying to cause psychological harm. He wanted to create lasting damage. Sudou, in particular, had been on the receiving end of Ryuuen’s tactics, and was deeply unsettled. I was sure Ryuuen had more tricks up his sleeve.

Finally, I wondered how Class B was doing. Working together with Class C while the possibility of betrayal was very real, and going against Class A, a formidable opponent, had to be intense. Ichinose and the others, cheerful and fair, were giving the competition their all. At a glance, they hadn’t changed their usual behavior. Watching their smiles and happy gestures, it basically seemed as though they were genuinely enjoying the festival.

6.8

A FTER OUR SHORT BREAK , the contests ran in reverse order. It was time for the first-year girls’ cavalry battle. They began gathering at the center of the grounds. This would be yet another showdown between the D/A and B/C coalitions.

The cavalry battle ran on a time limit, and the rules were the same for boys and girls. They dictated that points would be awarded based on the number of enemy units your team defeated in a three-minute period, and how many allied units you had remaining. There were four horsemen to every cavalry unit.

Four students from each class were horsemen, which meant it was an eight-versus-eight battle. Extra students were kept as reserve units, to be substituted as needed. Each horseman was worth fifty points. One horseman in each class was designated the “general,” and they were worth 100 points. You could still get points, even if your opponent was left standing, so long as you stole their headband. If we had a particularly powerful warrior on our side, we might get as many as 400 or 500 points in one go.

Horikita had been chosen to jockey for Class D. Ishizaki, Komiya, and Kondou were supporting her. They weren’t bad at all. Mori, Kushida, and Karuizawa were the other jockeys.

The problem was that Mori’s unit was filled with unathletic students. There was a good chance that they’d go down first. Their strategy was to make a weak horseman the general, which meant that the weakest link could stay out of the fight, and the three remaining horsemen could protect them. Perhaps they were planning to go for a counterattack if the enemy came after them?

Once the signal went off, the Class B and C horsemen quietly began to close the distance to Classes A and D. Unsurprisingly, Ibuki was out for blood. A jockey herself, she issued an order and headed right for Horikita. However, Ibuki wasn’t the only one.

“H-hey, what the hell?” shouted Ike as he watched the match. Sudou clenched his teeth.

Class C didn’t bother attacking Class A at all. They didn’t even pay attention to Class D’s general or other horsemen. Horikita was their sole target.

Four horsemen attacked her. Was their plan to crush us individually, one after another? Or did they only care about defeating Horikita? If Ryuuen was in command, both seemed possible. The Class D horsemen were outnumbered, but Class A showed no sign of even trying to help. Perhaps they intended to use us as bait, and swoop in to get the points after we were done.

“They’re just going after Horikita, aren’t they, dude?!”

“Damn. Ryuuen probably ordered that. Scumbag!” Sudou growled.

“There’s nothing we can do about it. Everyone knows that Horikita is Class D’s best player on this field.”

Ryuuen’s tactics weren’t bad. Whether in war or competition, the best bet was taking out the opposing side’s leader.

Karuizawa and her horsemen rushed to Horikita’s rescue first. Shinohara hurried over to support Karuizawa. However, Class B’s general, Ichinose, blocked their path. Unlike Class A, Class B was actively supporting their ally team. Now they were on a collision course: Karuizawa versus Ichinose.

Karuizawa’s unit was the first to mount an attack. I supposed that was inevitable, considering that they needed to settle this as quickly as possible in order to support Horikita.

Unfortunately, the three girls supporting Karuizawa weren’t exactly athletic. Their unit had formed so that they could hang out with their friends. Bad tactics. Meanwhile, Ichinose’s unit contained some of the best and most capable people in Class B. Showing no fear, Class B dodged the attack.

Ichinose went for a direct attack, but her movements weren’t sharp. Karuizawa managed to react well and launch a counterattack. It was a contest of unity versus maneuverability, and looked as though it would drag on for a while.

“Dude, this is an awesome game!”

The audience cheered. As Karuizawa’s group made their move, a horseman’s headband was snatched off. Horikita’s, as I’d expected.

Four horsemen had attacked her simultaneously. Unable to avoid their relentless assault, she had been defeated. She fell off her unit quite dramatically, collapsed to the ground, and tried to get up, looking frustrated. However, she had nothing to be ashamed of. In a situation like this, even someone like Sudou couldn’t have won. Class A and their lack of defense were responsible for her defeat.

In any case, that was that. Horikita’s loss triggered an all-out melee. Class D, now down a horseman and pursued by Class B, lost any semblance of coordination in the blink of an eye. Some players fell off their horses, while others had their headbands snatched.

The two horsemen other than Karuizawa tried to resist, but in vain. Karuizawa, who was locked in a fierce battle with Ichinose, found herself in an eight-to-one fight for a moment. Then, at the very end, she managed to snatch a headband from a Class B horseman thanks to her near-suicidal resolve. Thanks to that, their match ended with a mutual KO.

Even though they’d lost a horseman, Classes B and C attacked the remaining Class A units and completely wiped them out. Our opponents had only lost a total of two horsemen, but the A/D coalition had suffered a great loss.

Horikita returned to camp grinding her teeth in frustration. Sudou called to her right away.

“Hey, don’t worry ’bout it. It was hopeless. Besides, it’s the others’ fault for being so slow,” said Sudou.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I lost. Their momentum completely overwhelmed me,” replied Horikita.

Class C had primarily targeted Horikita, though. Under those circumstances, no horsemen could’ve stood a chance.

“Leave it to me. I’ll get ’em back for you,” said Sudou, trying to sound cool.

Normally, his words wouldn’t have reached Horikita at all. However, in her weakened condition, they seemed to resonate. “I’d expect no less of you,” she replied curtly.

“All right! Let’s go, you guys!” shouted Sudou.

The boy’s cavalry battle began. I took the role of a horse on the right of my unit. Sudou was squarely in the middle, and Miyake was on the left. Hirata was our jockey. Thus, our class’s strongest unit was born, a warrior without peer, capable of achieving victory even if our allied horsemen were defeated.

“Hey, Hirata. Focus on not getting your headband stolen, and don’t get knocked down. Okay?” said Sudou.

“So, we’re using that strategy, huh?” asked Hirata.

“Well, it’s ’cause we lost horribly at capture the flag. We got beat really bad. This time, we’re gonna show ’em no mercy,” said Sudou.

I couldn’t see the expression on Sudou’s face, but he must have been smiling. They were probably planning on trying to destroy the competition by using the strategy that they had practiced over and over during class.

“I have an idea, if it’s okay with you guys. While I was watching the girls’ match earlier, I thought of a way to win. I already told Katsuragi-kun about it. We can’t keep losing at this speed,” said Hirata.

When the signal went off, Hirata gave the order. Class D’s horsemen joined Class A’s. We became one large mass of people, the two classes indistinguishable from each other. Though Class A had basically abandoned Class D entirely during the girls’ match, they weren’t rooting for us to lose or anything.

Class C’s general, Ryuuen, laughed fearlessly. He couldn’t bear to cooperate, so instead, he resorted to crudely ordering others to fall in line.

On Katsuragi’s orders, eight horsemen from the D/A coalition rushed at the enemy.

“Aim for that shitty Ryuuen’s head! Raaah! Send him packing!”

In the blink of an eye, Hirata’s horse, Sudou, bolted ahead at top speed. A horseman from Class B tried to get in the way.

However, Sudou slammed into the enemy with full force, knocking them off-balance. “Get outta my way!” he roared.

“Uwahh!”

The enemy, lacking Sudou’s superior physique and ability to fight back, could only collapse, jockey and all.

“Yeah, how about them apples?!”

Like a wild beast, Sudou looked down at the defeated enemy, then turned toward his next prey. Normally, hitting someone would be considered foul play. However, the school had already said that this battle’s rules were a bit different. Our strong opening salvo instilled fear in the other team, making them flinch.

It was a strategy that we couldn’t have implemented without the necessary brawn and attitude to go along with it. However, this strategy did have its drawbacks. If we knocked down a jockey, it would count as a self-KO, not stealing a headband. Those fifty points would vanish into the ether. Still, if we focused solely on stealing headbands, it would be risky.

Sudou clearly relished this strategy, but we couldn’t drop our guard. There was a good Class B general whose unit consisted of Kanzaki and Shibata. There was also Ryuuen, and he was riding guys with a lot of power and muscle mass.

The D/A coalition couldn’t win unless we took those two out, but it was so hard to read Ryuuen.

“Sudou-kun, let’s defeat the opponents around us first and leave Ryuuen-kun for last.”

“Huh? C’mon, don’t be boring, man. Let’s aim right for the general’s head!” said Sudou.

I got what he was trying to say, even through his bestial shouts, but the wall in front of Ryuuen was dense.

“If we get emotional, we’ll play into his hands. Let’s do what’s necessary to win,” said Hirata.

“Tch!”

Two Class C horsemen launched their attack at us. Sudou, despite his grudge against Ryuuen for being stomped on, listened to Hirata. I marveled at Hirata’s ability to keep the guy under control.

“All right, all right. Let’s kick the crap outta these guys!”

We needed focus, and our wits about us. During capture the flag, the enemy’s power had overwhelmed us, but things were different this time around.

Sudou defeated three enemy horsemen with ease. Keeping the momentum going, Katsuragi and other Class A students successfully took down Shibata and Kanzaki’s unit, despite losing three of their own players. Ryuuen was the sole remaining enemy. Both Hirata and Katsuragi’s units had survived, and one additional Class D horseman remained. We had a chance.

“Yeah! It’s three on one now, right? We got this!”

As we surrounded Ryuuen, Katsuragi and Hirata exchanged looks. The other horsemen kept their distance, but still targeted Ryuuen. Since he’d been able to steal a headband, I realized just how powerful Ryuuen’s unit was. But, even so, we outnumbered him.

However, Ryuuen didn’t panic. In fact, it was the opposite; he looked as though he was actually enjoying this. He looked neither defenseless nor defeated.

If Hirata and Katsuragi attacked him at the same time, one of them could snatch Ryuuen’s headband, even if that meant sacrificing the other. In that case, our victory would be practically guaranteed. This was the moment to go for the kill. However, Ryuuen was far too skilled at finding the gaps in his enemy’s armor.

“Oh, I remember your name. Sudou. When I stepped on you earlier, it looked quite painful,” Ryuuen sneered.

“Yeah, keep talkin’. I’m gonna return the favor,” replied Sudou.

“You talk a pretty big game for a simple beast of burden. I have to say, it feels good to look down on you,” said Ryuuen.

“Heh. Just because you’re ridin’ on top don’t mean you’re a big deal yourself,” snapped Sudou.

“Oh? I guess this is all meaningless, unless we settle things one-on-one,” said Ryuuen.

“Huh?”

“If you can only beat me when it’s two against one, I suppose that’s that. However, ‘winning’ only means something when you beat somebody one-on-one,” said Ryuuen. “But could you handle that? Or, what, are you planning to defeat me with a pincer attack?”

“The heck?!”

“Sudou-kun, don’t listen. This is a bad idea. Let’s cooperate with Katsuragi-kun,” said Hirata.

“You just don’t get it,” Sudou told Ryuuen.

“No, you don’t get it, Sudou. You’ve taken down those who got in your way before, but you used cowardly means to do so. You could never beat my trusted subordinates with a frontal attack,” Ryuuen gloated. Some of his unit happened to be members of the basketball club, the ones who’d started a fight with Sudou.

“Stop screwing around. Those dudes are weak garbage who can’t even fight,” snapped Sudou.

“Tough words, but with nothing to back them up. If you’re so very strong, then face me one-on-one. If you can beat me then, I’ll kneel before you,” said Ryuuen.

“Fine. Don’t forget what you just said, Ryuuen! You heard all that, Katsuragi? Don’t you dare stick your nose in this!” said Sudou.

“What are you talking about? We can’t let this chance go. We should use a pincer attack to defeat him,” replied Katsuragi.

“Stick your nose in this, and I’ll bust up your unit!” said Sudou. He’d taken Ryuuen’s bait hook, line, and sinker. Ryuuen understood what a hothead Sudou could be, and took full advantage of it.

“You’re determined to fight him on one-on-one, Sudou-kun? Fine. If you’re doing this, then win,” said Hirata. He understood that, once Sudou’s switch was flipped, there was nothing to be done. Knowing that continuing to try to persuade him would be fruitless, Hirata allowed him to engage Ryuuen.

“All right. Hirata, make sure your headband doesn’t get snatched!” Sudou commanded.

With a bitter expression, Katsuragi watched the battle unfold as Sudou charged forward, ramming into the enemy. However, their horsemen weren’t knocked down. Their power was just about equal to ours. The horse protecting Ryuuen in the center was the half-Japanese guy, Yamada Albert. His strength was incredible, just like the rumors had said.

Sudou clicked his tongue, and I wondered if he was ticked at the stalemate. Miyake and I, who were supporting Hirata from the sides, couldn’t bring as much strength to bear as Sudou. If you supposed Sudou had ten horsepower, both of us had maybe half that. However, in Ryuuen’s unit, Yamada might’ve had nine or ten horsepower. The other guys were nearly as tough, too, probably with seven or eight horsepower apiece.

“Come on; come on then. Or are you going to lose to my Albert?” Ryuuen gestured for us to attack him. He had been fortunate with his opponents up until now and had taken first in every single competition. He was no underdog when it came to athletics. He observed our movements while managing to smoothly dodge Hirata’s extended hand.

As I supported Hirata, I watched his battle with Ryuuen as best I could. From what I could see, they were almost evenly matched. However, Ryuuen only attacked with his words, not wasting any effort on physical attacks. He conserved his stamina, responding with only one attack for every three of Hirata’s. This battle was just the halfway point for him, then; he was saving his energy for Katsuragi’s unit on standby. Apparently, he didn’t expect to lose now.

In that case, we needed to strike as soon as there was an opening. If we attacked repeatedly, Hirata would have his chance.

“Not yet, Hirata?” Sudou sounded pained, since he was the only one on the receiving end of most of the enemy’s attacks.

“Just a little more!” Hirata extended his arm, feinting, before launching an attack. As Ryuuen tried to sway and dodge, Hirata grabbed hold of his headband, but only managed to snag the edge.

Hirata tried his hardest to pull the headband off. He couldn’t snatch it away, and the headband slipped out of his hand.

“Huh?!”

“What are you doin’, Hirata?! Take it! I’m usin’ up an awful lot of strength here!” said Sudou.

“Sorry. My hand was slippery!”

Sudou, breathing heavily, launched another attack. Ryuuen waited fearlessly. Meanwhile Hirata, who had only been on the offensive so far, was breathing heavily.

“What’s wrong? That all you got?”

“Ugh! Sorry, Sudou-kun! Fall back for now!” said Hirata.

We put some distance between Ryuuen and ourselves. We were exhausted compared to Ryuuen, who had barely even moved. He was probably conserving his strength to fight Katsuragi after he defeated us. Sudou, his breathing ragged, repositioned himself.

“Make the next try the last, Hirata… Make sure you snatch it!” said Sudou.

“Got it. I’ll try my best!” Hirata took a deep breath and focused.

“Eat this!” shouted Sudou.

Sudou summoned the last of his strength and slammed into the enemy, but they still didn’t fall down. Once again, a fight between the jockeys ensued. However, Hirata took a gamble and, assuming that Ryuuen wouldn’t attack, extended his arm and left himself open. The results were well worth the risk.

“Got it!”

Hirata’s aim was straight and true. Again, he successfully grabbed hold of Ryuuen’s headband. However, once again, the headband slipped.

“What?!”

Ryuuen took advantage of Hirata’s bewilderment. He reached out to grab Hirata’s headband, gripped it tightly, and effortlessly snatched it from Hirata’s head. Sudou sensed that we had lost and dropped to his knees, causing Hirata to fall.

Ryuuen raised Hirata’s headband up high. Soon afterward, a referee came over and warned us to leave the field.

“Damn it!” Sudou, looking wild and unruly, glared at Ryuuen. If Sudou didn’t start moving, I didn’t know what kind of warning we’d receive next. I pushed him, directing him to leave the field.

“How pathetic,” Ryuuen sneered.

It was too early for us to accept defeat, though. Katsuragi, a survivor from Class A, challenged Ryuuen with a determined expression. He gave orders to the jockey, Yahiko, while fortifying his defenses. Now that Sudou had withdrawn, Katsuragi’s unit joined the remaining Class D horsemen to start a two-against-one strategy. However, when they grabbed Ryuuen’s headband, things played out in a similar way. They couldn’t pull the headband off.

In the end, Yahiko and another Class D jockey lost their headbands. Even though he’d moved as little as possible, Ryuuen demonstrated superb strength and survived until the very end.

As we heard the signal heralding the end of the game, Ryuuen took off his own headband and swung it around, reveling in his victory. That was another piece of provocation—another piece of his strategy.

“Dang it, he’s the one guy I didn’t want to lose to! Get your head in the game, Hirata!” Sudou’s frustration was at an all-time high, especially against his current nemesis, Ryuuen. I half-expected him to go on a rampage and tear the place apart.

“Sorry, Sudou-kun. His headband was so strangely wet, I couldn’t seem to pull it off,” said Hirata. “At first, I thought it was sweat, but something was a little odd.”

He showed us his hands. When I touched his fingertips, I saw some kind of clear, slightly sticky fluid gleaming on them.

“That’s not sweat,” I said.

Sudou touched it for himself to confirm. “Wait, that means… That jerk!” He charged over to confront Ryuuen. “That’s foul play! You slathered your headband with something!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If there’s anything on my headband, it’s probably just hair gel. Don’t be a sore loser,” chided Ryuuen. He didn’t seem afraid in the slightest.

Maybe he’d been able to clean his headband while he showed off his victory, or maybe he wiped it on the ground. Either way, Ryuuen’s headband just looked dirty. The evidence was gone.

“Sudou, we’re going to cause a scene. Let’s head back to our tent,” I said.

The referee glared at us. We couldn’t prove that Ryuuen had coated his headband in anything. In truth, Ryuuen probably had used hair gel. Anything else would be too risky, bordering on foul play. He wasn’t stupid.

“You know what? You’re at fault here, too, Ayanokouji! You need to provide more support!” snapped Sudou.

Even after we returned to the tent, Sudou didn’t calm down. I kept my distance to let him cool off. Karuizawa called to Hirata and me.

“Isn’t this bad news, Kiyotaka?” she asked.

“What is? Wait. Why’d you use my first name?” I asked.

“Why? Well, I call Yousuke-kun by his first name, so I thought I’d try using yours,” she replied.

Then why had she dropped the honorific in my case? Was she implying that I was lower than Hirata? I probably didn’t need to give it too much thought, so I decided that was all there was to it.

“At any rate, I want to discuss Horikita-san. Hasn’t she been struggling for a while now? Even during the cavalry battle, she was in really rough shape. I tried to offer her support, but it was just a complete mess,” said Karuizawa.

“Yeah,” I replied.

Horikita was in a bad way, and not just in the team contests. Her rankings had fallen greatly across every event. The reason was clear: the fall during the obstacle course had injured her right leg. We normally would’ve suggested that she withdraw, but if she did, then Class D would be penalized.

“I don’t really think I can blame her, though. Her opponents were just too much,” said Karuizawa.

True. Horikita had gone up against difficult opponents each and every time. If she kept facing off against students who were the best in their respective clubs…

This was far too much to be mere coincidence. “It’s no use. She’s being targeted,” I said.

“Targeted? So, it’s not accidental that she keeps facing all these incredible students?”

“It’s the only reason I can think of. You know how athletic she is, too, right?” I replied.

Horikita wasn’t bad at sports at all; it was just that all of her opponents were better. By placing in the bottom ranks repeatedly, she couldn’t help but stand out to both her enemies and allies. More and more people had started to take notice of her, and she’d been targeted during the cavalry battle. There was just one person who might order such a thing: the man acting like a king over in the enemy camp, Ryuuen Kakeru. Only he would prioritize humiliating Horikita over leading Class C to victory.

“He’s definitely harassing her,” I said.

“Someone is harassing Horikita? But why?” asked Karuizawa.

“It’s not just Horikita. They seem to know all our strategies for the competitions, and the composition of all our teams. They sent weaker students to go up against our top athletes, like Sudou and Onodera, and they had students who could just scrape by against our weaker players, like Sotomura, Yukimura, and Ike. Don’t you see? We’re being played like a fiddle.”

By “they,” I of course meant the students from Class C.

“So, information about our class got leaked? Someone sent out our participation table?”

“Yes. They handed all that information over to Ryuuen,” I replied.

“That’s… Well, actually, Horikita was always up against Yajima-san and Kinoshita-san. Does this have anything to do with the traitor you were talking about?” asked Karuizawa.

I gave her a small nod. I’d convinced her just how bad the situation was.

“But, wait, how did you find out? Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if you just came out and said you were the traitor or something… I mean, that’s not what you’re saying, right?”

“Unfortunately, no,” I replied.

Putting aside the question of “who” for now, the crucial bit was that the traitor had leaked our class’s information. Ryuuen knew everything, from the order in which we’d competed in all the events, with Hirata at the helm, to our strategies. With all that information, he had crafted two countermeasures.

First, he’d intentionally set up his weaker students against our more talented athletes, like Sudou and Hirata. Then he put his more athletic students up against our hopelessly unathletic competitors, like Ike and Yamauchi. That way, he could snag even more wins by beating them. Of course, we ’d taken that into account when we were coming up with our pairings, but Class C could just bide their time and eventually overtake us.

Second, Ryuuen was targeting Horikita. However, that really had no direct bearing on leading his class to victory. He wanted to crush Horikita for the sole purpose of destroying her. And, in truth, Horikita had been crushed. She’d completely lost face. If we were to create rankings for Class D alone, then Horikita was sinking to the very bottom.

These strategies revealed much about Ryuuen Kakeru. He could have switched around his players to keep us from figuring out his plans, but he wanted us to know. He wanted to rile us up.

“So, you’re not going to help her?” asked Karuizawa.

“How would I do that?”

“Well…I don’t know,” she replied.

“The participation table is already set in stone. There’s nothing I can do.”

“You’re saying that Class D is going to lose?”

“Guess so.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“You should ask Hirata about that.”

“That’s…well, that’s true, I guess. But…I thought if I talked to you, you’d think of something.”

The sports festival was playing out right in the open. Thus, there weren’t many chances for subterfuge, like there had been on the island. It would be a Herculean task to pull the wool over the entire school’s eyes. Our two options were fighting fair, and taking opponents like Ichinose and Katsuragi head-on, or using cowardly tactics while taking dangerous risks.

Ryuuen was only committing these acts of foul play after careful rehearsal and lots of practice. Nearly all these results had been decided before the sports festival even started.

“What do you think of Horikita?”

“What? I don’t like her. She’s all high and mighty and full of herself,” Karuizawa replied.

“But you’re worried about her.”

“Well…maybe I kinda understand what she’s dealing with.”

Karuizawa knew the bitterness and agony that came of being targeted by a bully. In that way, she could empathize with Horikita.

“Class D is in last place right now, yeah? Is there no way for us to win?” asked Karuizawa.

“Don’t worry. Everything so far has been going according to plan,” I told her.

“I knew it. You did think of something. Then how do we win this thing?”

“Win? I have no intention of winning. What’s important right now is to do nothing,” I replied.

“Huh?” Karuizawa’s mouth hung open in shock.

“Just do whatever you can in the sports festival. If you do that, it’ll help us later.”

“Wait, what do you⸻”

Just as I was trying to think up a way out of this incessant questioning, we heard a very angry roar.

“I’m seriously going to beat the crap out of that jerk!”

Sudou, bristling with all the aggression of a demon, was storming toward Class C. All Ryuuen’s provocation, from stepping on Sudou to targeting Horikita, seemed to have finally had its intended effect.

Hirata got in Sudou’s way. “I understand what you’re saying, Sudou-kun, but you need to calm down. You know what’ll happen if you get violent with Ryuuen-kun.”

Sudou shoved him aside. “Shut it! He’s the one who should be sorry! He’s done nothing but cheat!”

“Okay, yes, I do think he’s been cheating. But isn’t that difficult for us to prove?” asked Hirata.

Trampling someone during capture the flag and letting opponents fall over in tug-of-war weren’t very sportsmanlike conduct, but they were a gray area. As for Ryuuen using hair gel on his headband during the cavalry battle, that was only speculation. The evidence was gone. Sudou completely losing his temper and confronting Ryuuen wouldn’t solve anything. In fact, it would probably have the opposite effect. If he openly attacked another class, there was a good chance that things wouldn’t end just with Sudou’s disqualification.

“I’m the leader here! So, listen up, Hirata. Let’s confront Ryuuen together,” said Sudou.

“I know you’re the leader. If we’re talking about the sports festival, you’re the leader without a doubt. But look around you. What do you think the class wants from you, as their leader?” asked Hirata.

Sudou looked around, starting with Ike and the others, who cowered in fear. Most of the students kept their distance from Sudou now. They didn’t want to suffer his wrath. Even Horikita looked at Sudou with worried exasperation.

Currently, Class D was swimming in fear and discomfort. We needed to accept it and be better.

“But I’m trying my hardest for the class’s sake.” He managed to squeeze out those few words despite his anger. However, students around Hirata raised their voices in response.

“Is that really the case?” Yukimura interjected cuttingly. “It seems like you just want to show off how amazing you are. At least, that’s what I think. Your emotions are completely out of control, and they’re making all your decisions for you. If we could win like that, we wouldn’t be suffering now, would we? If you’re going to pretend you’re the leader, then you need to act like it and help all of us.”

Despite the fact that he had been struggling throughout the sports festival himself, he had been earnestly giving it everything he had.

“Shut up.”

“I feel the same way, Sudou-kun. It’s precisely because we’re relying on you that I want you to see the bigger picture, and take all your teammates’ feelings into account,” said Hirata.

“Shut up!”

“You should be able to do that, Sudou-kun. That’s why—”

“I’m tellin’ ya to shut up already!”

SMACK!

I saw Hirata, who’d been standing next to Sudou, topple over and hit the ground. Sudou, his eyes bloodshot, didn’t appear to realize the mistake he’d just made. The next person to speak would probably get decked too. Actually, he looked on the verge of punching Yukimura anyway.

However, hitting Hirata earned Sudou everyone’s attention, whether he wanted it or not. The teachers were now eyeballing him as well. Even if we tried to cover it up by saying it was a class dispute, things went south really quickly when violence was involved.

“What’s going on?” Our overseer, Chabashira-sensei, approached Hirata, who still lay on the ground. When she saw how enraged Sudou looked and the red mark on Hirata’s cheek, it was pretty easy for her to deduce what’d happened. “Did you hit him?”

Without even asking the reason, she demanded the truth. Sudou didn’t deny it at all. “So what if I did? What then?” he huffed.

Hirata quickly climbed back to his feet and corrected her. “No, that’s not it, sensei. I just fell down, that’s all.”

“It hardly looks that way.”

“Well, you’d be wrong to think he hit me. Look, I fell, so there shouldn’t be a problem,” said Hirata.

We couldn’t afford to let the truth come to light. Hirata had made a wise decision.

After a moment, Chabashira-sensei spoke again. “If the victim says that nothing happened, then there’s no problem. However, I can tell there’s something going on here. Keep your distance from each other. I’ll be giving my superiors a report later as a preventative measure.”

“There’s no trouble here at all, but I don’t wish to exacerbate the situation. I understand,” said Hirata.

Thanks to Hirata’s calm response, that was that. Meanwhile, Sudou, unable to contain his anger, kicked a nearby chair and sent it flying. Beating up Class C while under Chabashira-sensei’s supervision just wasn’t possible.

“Whatever, do what you want. Go ahead and lose for all I care, you scum. This sports festival thing can go to hell,” Sudou growled.

He glanced over at Horikita for just an instant, but quickly averted his eyes and started walking back toward the dormitory.

“Things have gotten pretty bad, Ayanokouji,” Karuizawa said.

“That has nothing to do with me, though,” I replied.

Kouenji was absent, and now Sudou had walked off. Class D’s chances looked really bleak.

“Are you okay, Hirata?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Man, he really got me good, though,” said Hirata.

Fortunately, it seemed like only had a small cut on the inside of his mouth; he had no external injuries to speak of.

“What do we do now? This is really bad.”

6.9

W HILE CLASS D dealt with its own problems, the second- and third-year students’ cavalry battle proceeded. Horikita kept staring at her brother, whom she couldn’t approach.

Sudou didn’t return to camp even after the cavalry battles ended and the final event, the 200-meter dash, began. The show went on, no matter who was absent. Absentees would simply be disqualified, unable to earn any points. The rules were clear.

Ryuuen approached us. “Hirata, what happened to Sudou? He taking a dump?” Ryuuen had to have seen it all happen, but spoke as if he didn’t know anything. Was he trying to mess with Hirata?

“Something came up. Sudou-kun is taking a break. He’ll be back soon,” said Hirata.

“Heh. I really don’t think lying suits you,” replied Ryuuen.

After he heard his name being called for the second race, Ryuuen began walking off toward his lane.

“You’ve taken first place in all the individual competitions so far, right, Ryuuen-kun?” asked Hirata calmly. He seemed placid, but you could hear him getting riled up.

“So?”

“It looks like the only reason you’ve come in first is because you went up against much weaker people. You’re quite lucky, Ryuuen-kun.”

“Guess luck is on my side.”

“I don’t know how much longer your luck will last, though. Anything can change,” said Hirata.

“Huh?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hirata continued.

Ryuuen snorted, indicating that he had no idea what Hirata meant. Hirata continued.

“You got Class D’s participation table, and you obtained detailed information about all our students’ athletic abilities, too. You’ve made good use of that information. We’re not stupid. We have a few tricks hidden up our sleeves.”

“Ooh. I’d be scared if that weren’t such an obvious bluff. Look at how far apart Classes C and D are now. Doesn’t it fill you with despair? Even if you know the truth, it does you little good now,” said Ryuuen.

“I just have one thing to say to you. Before the day ends, I’m going to show you something interesting,” said Hirata.

“Something interesting, huh? I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Ryuuen didn’t sound fazed in the slightest. He probably had no reason to be, considering that he went on to handily take first place in the 200-meter dash.

“There’s a little over an hour left until Sudou’s turn, huh?”

The 200-meter dash continued for the second- and third-year students, followed by a fifty-minute break. If Sudou didn’t return before the break ended, it’d be checkmate. With our ace in the hole gone, we’d never win. Only one person in our class could get to him.

I wondered if Horikita understood just how vital her role was. After I placed third in the 200-meter dash, I waited for her to finish her own race.

“Horikita, do you know what happened with Sudou?”

“His leadership came into question, and he realized what a disappointment he was, then ran away.”

“Well…yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“Why are you here? You’re not going to request that I bring Sudou-kun back, are you?”

“If you already know, then don’t ask. Do you understand you’re the only one who can help?” I inquired.

“I don’t think so. There are other people who can do something. There’s no way I possibly could,” she said.

Was she serious? Yeah, she probably was. She had no idea that Sudou had a crush on her.

“Besides, I’m not exactly in a position to worry about other people right now,” Horikita added.

She was indeed suffering. Not only had she struggled in all of her matches, but she was also bringing down our class’s point totals. She had a lot to deal with on her own. I understood her feelings. Besides, pretty much no one wanted to go find Sudou after he’d acted so selfishly. They’d abandoned him, although they knew that he could save us in the sports festival. Everyone’s trust in him had evaporated. If Hirata or Kushida had stormed off, the entire class would’ve gone looking for them. In that sense, he was similar to Kouenji. As a matter of fact, aside from Horikita and Sudou, everyone else had just ignored Kouenji entirely. No one took the absence of a member very seriously.

“Here’s how I see it,” I said. “You can’t take care of your classmates, and you can’t control yourself. What’s the point of you, then? You’re nothing but a burden.”

I knew my question cut her deep, and I was fully prepared to endure her anger.

“That’s an awful thing to say. I’m sorry I got hurt, but I had bad luck. Some things you can’t control, right?”

“Bad luck, huh? You see your injury as just that—an injury. You haven’t realized a thing.”

“Don’t make fun of me. I understand the seriousness of the situation. Clearly, we have a traitor who leaked our participation table to Ryuuen-kun. I never thought that someone in our class would want to destroy us, but there’s nothing I can do about that right now,” said Horikita.

“What else have you noticed?”

“What else? I know that Ryuuen-kun provoked Sudou-kun.”

“That’s right. Even with all the information in the world on Ryuuen’s side, Sudou—our class’s MVP—was still nearly undefeatable. After all, Sudou’s still powerful on a team and dominates on his own. So, Ryuuen needled and provoked him on purpose, until he got Sudou to drop out. With Sudou out of the picture, Class D’s morale tanked.”

“Yeah, and that’s why our class is in shambles right now.”

“Have you noticed anything else?”

“Wait, you can’t mean… You want to speculate?” asked Horikita. “Do I think that Ryuuen-kun set a trap for me? Yes, I certainly do. I guess he told Kinoshita-san to trip me. But it’s hard to blatantly, deliberately cause injury when we’re under such heavy scrutiny. I can’t imagine Ryuuen and his team would intentionally injure me so badly I couldn’t satisfactorily continue with the competition.”

If I had wanted to, I could have offered her evidence that the injury was certainly intentional. But that wasn’t really important. Instead I said, “How long do you plan to be useless, Horikita?”

Unless I took drastic measures, Horikita Suzune would never wake up.

“On what grounds do you call me useless?”

“I’m calling you useless because you are useless.”

“How dare you? I’m a highly capable student and athlete. I have the utmost confidence that I can triumph over any of these good-for-nothings. Besides, since the information on our class already leaked, isn’t it too late for us to do anything? It’s not just me—we’re all powerless here. So, why label me useless?”

“If you were an ordinary student, it would be fine for you to say that. But that’s not the case, is it? If you’re aiming for Class A, and want to lift your classmates up with you, then it’s about time that you develop an ability to see the big picture.”

“That’s why I asked you for evidence!” Horikita shouted.

Our classmates turned toward us to see what was going on.

“‘We have a traitor who leaked our participation table.’” I repeated Horikita’s words back at her. “‘Ryuuen-kun provoked Sudou-kun,’ ‘I guess he told Kinoshita-san to trip me.’ It’s certainly true that you can’t do anything about those things—because you didn’t do anything about them. And, as long as you continue to do nothing, nothing is going to change. Do you plan on whining like this when Ryuuen pulls off another brilliant scheme? You don’t, do you?”

“That’s… But, what could I possibly…?”

“You can either prioritize improving your own ranking while Sudou remains absent, or you can let your ranking plummet while Sudou returns and helps pull the class forward. Which of those best serves Class D?” I asked. “There’s no need to answer that, is there? You aren’t nearly as valuable as Sudou right now. It’s time you get the fact that you’re completely useless through your skull. Sudou’s methods are clumsy, sure, but he’s contributed more to our class than anyone else in this festival. And he’s been trying his absolute hardest to win. Is it really okay for you to give up on him just because you claim you can’t afford to care about other people? You’re going to let him sit this out?”

Horikita had to understand that much. Even if what I said hurt her, she needed to wake up. I wanted her to acknowledge exactly what she had to do from this point on.

“This is so obvious that even an elementary school kid should get it. There’s only one thing we can do to prepare a counterattack.” Ryuuen had strategically taken out Sudou, which meant that we had to strategically get Sudou back.

“You’re throwing away a chance to obtain a weapon that belongs to you, and you alone,” I said.

“A weapon for me alone?”

“If you’re aiming for Class A, there’s a limit to how much you can do on your own. Right now, you’re in a situation where you can’t do much of anything. You’re going to face more and more exams like this in the future. When those take place, Sudou will definitely become a valuable asset. For you to make use of that asset, what should you do right now? Pray that your injured leg heals miraculously?”

Just as I used Hirata and Karuizawa as my weapons, Horikita had the opportunity to obtain a weapon of her own. It would be foolish for her to let that chance go by.

“I…”

“I’ll let you think about it. That’s my only advice.”

There was nothing more for me to tell her. I would neither offer her a strategy to defeat Ryuuen nor teach her how to get through it. Right now, Horikita needed defeat and rebirth.

6.10

T HE MORNING HALF of the sports festival ended with Class D stuck in the worst-possible position. Since we were free to do what we wanted during the break, some people ate lunch in the cafeteria as usual, while others ate at a designated space on the field. The festival seemed to afford more opportunities to eat together with upperclassmen regardless of gender. There was a strong sense of solidarity between students.

Our classrooms were currently unavailable, so we had to eat elsewhere. If we were asked what we liked best about the sports festival, it would probably be the lunch. A mountain of bento boxes had been provided. The meals weren’t made in the school cafeteria, but were high-quality catering brought in from outside campus. Only one type of lunch was free, so nearly everyone chose that option. Some students left the field without touching the lunchboxes, though, and Horikita was among them. Perhaps my words had finally reached her, and she was looking for Sudou.

Kushida also abstained. After telling some other girls that she was going to look for Sudou, she took off.

“Gah! God, I’m so tired! Why do I gotta suffer through this, dude?!” Ike cried.

“Because you lost!”

After losing at rock-paper-scissors, Yamauchi went off to grab everyone’s lunches. “Man, I’m starving. I’m gonna inhale this!”

Ike and Yamauchi showed no real interest in Sudou’s whereabouts. Since they’d known Sudou since day one, they understood his personality all too well. They weren’t going to chase after him.

At most, Sudou would lose out on private points, although his absence would be bad for the Red Team. Then again, some people probably felt grateful that his reign of terror had ended. Most of the girls had seen him punch Hirata. Any minor goodwill people might have developed for Sudou had gone completely out the window. The fact that there had hardly been any change despite the absence of our MVP was honestly a little unsettling.

“Let’s just find someplace to eat for now.”

As the three of us decided to move, Hirata showed up with several guys and girls in tow. “Is it okay if we come along, too?” he asked Ike and Yamauchi.

Yamauchi and Ike were momentarily shocked that Hirata was reaching out to them, since the three weren’t normally close friends. However, with cute girls in Hirata’s group, they had no reason to object.

“Yeah, dude.”

Our group now contained ten people, including both guys and girls. After finding a suitable spot, we started eating. As people finished up, Hirata and Karuizawa approached me. Smartly done; with a bunch of classmates around, it wouldn’t look odd or unnatural for such a trio to form.

“Looks like Ryuuen-kun’s making his move, as expected,” said Hirata, his voice cutting through all the noise around us. Then Karuizawa had opened her mouth and interjected, as if she had been waiting to speak up.

“So, who’s the traitor? You know, don’t you, Yousuke-kun?”

Hirata just gently shook his head. “There are several things I don’t understand. I wonder if it’ll be cleared up.”

“Well, I can’t say who the traitor is,” I told them.

“Huh? Why?” asked Karuizawa.

“Because, right now, we’d only throw the class into even more turmoil by identifying them. We need to deal with the traitor quietly and calmly,” I told them.

“Okay. I won’t hound you. But why did you submit the participation table to the school when you knew there was a traitor? Couldn’t we have adjusted the table ourselves and avoided all this strife? We could have flipped the script on Class C,” said Hirata.

“Probably,” I said. In truth, I’d wanted Horikita to discover the spy and deal with it appropriately.

“Wait. The traitor might be someone nearby, right? It might even be someone among us right now. Can we afford to take it this easy?” asked Karuizawa.

She scanned her surroundings, suspecting everyone at the gathering. Traitors were certainly troublesome, but depending on the circumstances, it could be more convenient just to leave them alone.

Besides, even if we’d used Hirata’s strategy, it probably wouldn’t have worked against Ryuuen. Right now, it would be difficult to make Hirata and Karuizawa understand why, so I lied instead.

“I’ve taken stock of the traitor’s moral fiber,” I said.

“Moral fiber?”

“I think they want to reform without being cornered.”

Hirata stared at me intently. “And this is all on Horikita’s orders, right, Ayanokouji-kun?”

If Hirata was already suspicious of me, then he would soon no longer trust me. Even so, I needed him to believe me right now, if only for appearances’ sake.

“Yeah. Everything is going according to Horikita’s plan.”

Hirata didn’t question me any further. He nodded once, seemingly convinced.

“So, where is Horikita-san? What’s she doing?” asked Karuizawa.

“Something only she can do. At least, I hope that’s what she’s doing,” I said.

“Wait. Are you talking about Sudou-kun?” Hirata glanced around, noticing that Horikita and Sudou were nowhere in sight. His intuition was on-point.

“Without Sudou, it won’t be easy for us to win the second half of the sports festival, right?” I asked.

“Yeah. We’re relying on Sudou-kun,” said Hirata.

Karuizawa looked a little dissatisfied by the prospect, but she understood. The sports festival’s outcome now depended on Horikita. If my words hadn’t reached her, it was game over.