Chapter Eight

The Sports Festival

The day of the sports festival had finally arrived.

Asahi was greeted that morning by the chirping of birds and the sudden sharp buzzing of the intercom. He knew who it was, as they’d made arrangements just the other day to walk to school together, but he was still irritated at having been roused from his peaceful sleep.

“Good morning,” Fuyuka said as soon as he opened the door to greet her. She was already dressed in her school uniform.

“Yeah, hi. Yaaawn...”

Although they were talking on a daily basis by this point, it was still a novel experience to greet each other so early in the morning. And it was even more strange to see her enter his apartment without a hint of reservation.

“So you actually came, huh? And at the crack of dawn, too...” Asahi mumbled.

“Why wouldn’t I follow up on my word?”

Asahi noticed that, despite her best efforts to hide it, she wasn’t entirely awake herself. The drowsiness in her eyes was a dead giveaway, which belied her prim and prepared appearance.

She could’ve just slept in a bit more instead of making us both wake up this early, but it’s too late now, I guess, he thought to himself. What was done was done; his only option now was to get ready for school as Fuyuka had. It was unlikely she would take “no”—or “five more minutes”—for an answer, after all.

The night before, Asahi had offered to make her a boxed lunch. He had planned on waking up early to prepare their meals to take to school that day. Fuyuka was insistent on being present, as well. She refused to have him wake up early alone merely for her sake. She would keep him company as he prepared the food, then they would go to school together.

“You can’t enter the kitchen today, though,” Asahi stated.

“Why not?”

“It would ruin the surprise if you see what I’m making, so yeah.”

“Er... alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Yep. Sorry about that.”

Although Fuyuka would’ve normally been quick to complain about this decision, she was still half asleep and headed straight for the sofa. There wouldn’t be any cooking lessons that morning.

Once Asahi was sure that Fuyuka wouldn’t move from the living room, he started to prepare the meal. His typical lunch would consist of the previous night’s leftovers, but this time, he was preparing a meal for two, and he was quite excited about the dish he was planning to make.

He started with karaage—fried chicken. First, he coated the tender pieces in corn starch. Then he dropped them in hot oil to deep fry them. The tantalizing sizzling grabbed Fuyuka’s attention, and she turned her head toward the kitchen to see what he was up to.

“Uh-uh-uh, no peeking,” he chided.

“Tch.”

Once he’d finished with the chicken, he started on the next dish. He peeled and cleaned a handful of potatoes, heated them in a pan, mashed them, added thin slices of carrots and cucumber, and added seasoning to everything. It had taken him a while, but the potato salad was finally complete.

“You’re taking an awfully long time today,” Fuyuka noted after an hour had passed.

“Just a little longer. I’ll be done soon.”

Fuyuka didn’t reply, instead turning her attention back to the novel she was reading.

He placed a bed of white rice on the bottom of their lunch boxes to give it an additional layer. In addition to the chicken and the potato salad, he added a slew of colorful vegetables—such as broccoli and tomatoes—as a garnish. And, to polish it off, he cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl with one hand and beat them with the chopsticks he held in the other.

Fuyuka yawned loudly and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. That was when Asahi noticed that her right wrist was no longer covered by the plaster—it had completely healed.

“I’m glad you managed to recover in time,” Asahi said.

“It’s all thanks to you.”

“All I did was cook for you for a few days. I don’t see how that has anything to do with it.”

“I think it’s fairly obvious to deduce why—you’ve helped to lessen my burden. The fewer chores I have to do, the more rapid my recovery is.”

“If you say so. It wasn’t a big deal, though.”

“There’s no need for you to be modest. I’ll be able to participate in the festival today because of you. Thank you.”

Having her being so honest with her feelings always threw him for a loop, and this instance was no exception. He silently focused on finishing the omelet in an effort to calm himself. If Chiaki or Hinami—people who were far more outgoing than him—were present, they likely would’ve known what to say in this scenario. Asahi was quite flustered, however, and floundered as he tried desperately to think of a suitable response. Finally, he managed to get out, “Well, here’s to hoping you win.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t come to my match to support me,” she replied flatly.

“Chill, I ain’t actually going. Besides, I don’t even have a cheerleader outfit on hand.”

Asahi knew full well that attending her match would do nothing more than bring unwanted attention to the two of them, especially if his peers knew he was only there to cheer on “The Ice Queen.”

“There, all done,” he said.

“So is the kitchen no longer off-limits?”

“Nah, there’s no need. Just take the box,” Asahi said as he placed her lunch on the counter separating the kitchen and the living room.

“It’s still quite hot,” she remarked.

“Obviously it would be. I just finished making it, after all. It’s one of those special containers that retains heat, so it should still be warm even by lunchtime.”

“And you’re okay with giving me this?”

“It’s no biggie, really. You can buy these for dirt cheap at any supermarket.”

Fuyuka eagerly inspected the box from every possible angle, peeking through the gaps in the box’s wrapping in an attempt to decipher its succulent contents.

“See? I told you it’d be better as a surprise.”

“Indeed. You were right.”

“Nice to hear you say that. Still, don’t expect too much—I wouldn’t call it anything special.”

He had made sure to include dishes that he knew she liked to avoid any issues arising. He’d also really gone the extra mile despite downplaying his efforts, as the lunch he’d prepared was way better than anything he’d ever make for himself.

She placed her lunch box in her bag and headed toward the entrance. Asahi tagged along close behind her.

“I’ll be sure to clean the container and give it back to you after,” she said.

“It’s okay if you don’t wash it, honestly,” he replied.

“No, I’ll make sure to clean it. My hand and wrist have healed now, so there’s no need for you to pamper me anymore,” she assured him. She rotated and twisted her wrist slightly to demonstrate that she wasn’t in pain anymore. It was an indication that things would soon return to normal for her, and that also meant dinner visits would soon become a distant memory.

“Alrighty then. So I can expect to see it sparkling clean when you return it, right?” he joked.

“Of course. You can expect nothing less.”

Asahi was no longer worried about her hand, but he was still concerned about how she’d fare in general. Although he’d managed to give her a few cooking lessons, he wasn’t entirely confident that she’d be capable of making a proper meal on her own just yet. That and the sad state of affairs the first time she’d washed dishes at his place made him believe that she still had a long way to go. Still, if she thought she could handle her own affairs, then he wouldn’t intrude any further. Her wrist was better now, and he felt at ease—still, why did his chest tighten at the realization that she would no longer be coming over for dinner?

“Best of luck with your basketball match,” Asahi muttered.

“And I wish you luck in your soccer match. You’re playing... defense, wasn’t it?” Fuyuka replied as she opened the door.

“Damn, you still remember that? Pretty sure I just mentioned that off-hand last week, didn’t I?”

“I have a good memory,” she replied. There was a pause, then she loudly stammered, “I-I’ll be supporting you, too.” The door slammed loudly behind her as she exited.

Asahi was under the impression that their relationship had stagnated recently. It was true that she had visited each night, but most of their conversations had gone no further than trivial small talk. She had just proved him wrong with her little proclamation. This, and his disappointment that they would no longer be meeting up to eat dinner, sent his mind reeling.

Jeez, I need to stop overthinking things, he thought as he tried to calm himself down. From that point onward, all he could think about was how Fuyuka’s beaming smile completely shattered her cold exterior.

*

“Tch... If only you’d blocked that shot with your face like last time.”

“And risk jacking up my nose again? Thanks, but no thanks.”

Asahi and Chiaki sat at the edge of the soccer field and watched idly as the team they had lost to began their next match. It was a beautiful, sunny autumn day. The sky was clear and unsullied by clouds—it truly was the perfect day to hold a sports festival.

The soccer and volleyball matches were held in the morning, and softball and basketball tournaments took place in the afternoon. The rules had been simple, but fairly harsh on the losing teams—they were disqualified from playing any more rounds. There were just too many classes at the school and not enough time to organize matches for the losing teams. As a result, the winners were to face each other until only one remained.

“Can’t believe we just lost like that,” Chiaki grumbled.

“Yeah. It sucks, but that’s life.”

Asahi’s class had been the school’s favorite going into the tournament, but they had quickly tasted bitter defeat after their first game. Matchups for the festival were selected at random, and luck hadn’t been on their side—their opponent had the soccer club’s ace, Yamada Ryuume. He had managed to seize a victory for his team, as well as steal the hearts of all the girls in the audience.

“Tch. How unlucky were we to be paired against Ryuume, of all people? And in the first goddamn match! He’s just too freakin’ good, man,” Chiaki complained.

“I don’t think you’re that different from him in terms of skill,” Asahi replied.

“Damn, was that a compliment just now? That’s rare coming from you.”

“Was it? I’m just stating the facts here... I’m not really trying to praise you or anything.”

“Hey, man! You could’ve at least sprinkled in a little white lie there!”

“I mean, what could you do anyway? Everyone on our team sucked except for you, and it’s not like you can put the whole team on your back. It’s impressive it ended ‘uno-cero’ as it is.”

“I guess you’re righ—wait a sec, did you just say ‘uno-cero’? Didn’t know you were familiar with the lingo.”

“Nah, not really. You’re always rattling off those weird terms when we play Feefa. Just so happened that a few of them stuck.”

Chiaki often used Italian and Spanish terms when he talked about soccer, as he considered them to be the beacon of all things “fútbol.” In this instance, Asahi parroted the score—one -nil—using the “lingo” he’d picked up from his friend.

The two friends continued to chat until the morning proceedings concluded. Asahi’s class was rather gloomy due to having gone winless in everything, but they took solace in the fact that it meant they had free time to do whatever they felt like for the rest of the day. Asahi considered watching the girls in his class as they competed in volleyball—unlike the boys, they had managed to hold out against the other teams. He eventually decided against it, however.

Chiaki’s dream of becoming the MVP had quickly been dashed, so he hung around his friend rather uselessly. “By the way, something’s been bothering you, hasn’t it?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know how to explain it... I just have this feeling that something’s up. Back when we were playing, it was like your head was up in the clouds. You were there physically, but not in spirit.”

Asahi froze in place. His friend’s intuition had been spot on—he’d been completely out of it during the match. That morning’s events with Fuyuka kept swirling around his head. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Chiaki about that, though, so he simply shook his head. Unfortunately, he couldn’t hide the tinge of red on his cheeks.

“You’re probably imagining things,” he tried to dissuade Chiaki.

“Maybe. I mean, you look and act like you usually do, but...”

Chiaki was rather astute; with enough pushing and prodding, he definitely would have been able to pick up on the reason behind his friend’s change in behavior. That was why, as much as he wanted to tell him off, Asahi realized it would be best to try feigning innocence.

“There you are, Chii! And Asahi too! Sorry I took so long!” Hinami suddenly shouted from far away as she ran over to the pair.

Perfect timing, Asahi thought. Hopefully, his friend would finally ease up on the questioning.

“Hey, Hina! Are you done with the volleyball match?” Chiaki asked.

“Yep, we’re done now. We lost at the semis... what a bummer. I was thinking of having an early lunch, so here I am!”

“Perfect timing. Can we tag along? We’re doing jack right now.”

“Yeah, we’re seriously about to die from boredom here,” Asahi added.

“Makes sense, considering you lost your first match.”

Once Hinami had arrived, the topic of the conversation had quickly shifted. She showered Chiaki in praise, assuring him that Ryuume was nothing compared to him. Asahi didn’t complain—she had been his saving grace from what would have been a rather embarrassing confession.

Usually I don’t want anything to do with her, but this might be the first time I’m seriously grateful to see her. Figures, Asahi mused to himself as a wave of relief washed over him.

*

“Wait, Hina, you actually made this yourself?” Chiaki asked with a tone of surprise.

“Yep! I even woke up super early to do it!” Hinami replied while puffing out her chest and smirking.

Even Asahi couldn’t help but marvel at the lunch box Hinami had prepared for Chiaki that day. It apparently contained all of Chiaki’s favorites: sunny-side-up eggs, fried chicken, and a set of tiny hamburger patties. On the side was a generous serving of rice garnished with some nori seaweed that spelled out the word “LOVE.”

I definitely can’t imagine anything but love being the reason to make this... not without cringing, anyway, Asahi thought to himself.

That was the first time Chiaki’s face had lit up all day. Ever since they’d been bested by the would-be victors, led by Ryuume, he hadn’t cracked a single of his signature smiles.

“You better dig in before it gets cold! Hurry up and open that mouth! Here comes the airplane!”

“Okay...” Chiaki complied by opening his mouth wide. “Damn, this is tasty! This is seriously as good as anything you’d get at a 5-star restaurant.”

“You sure know how to make a pure maiden’s heart skip a beat with your flattery, Chii!”

Asahi was already used to their sappy act. Normally, he would’ve told them to tone it down a bit, but they looked so happy that he ended up holding his tongue. He would’ve preferred to leave them in their own little world and eat alone in peace, but there was no chance either of them would let him off the hook that easily.

“Hey, Master Chef Asahi—you should give this a try,” Chiaki offered.

“I bet it’ll knock your socks off,” Hinami added.

“Would you stop calling me ‘chef Asahi’? It weirds me out.”

They were definitely pressuring him too much, or so he thought—just because his parents were chefs didn’t mean he had an elevated palate when it came to cooking. With great reluctance, he picked up one of the small burger patties and took a bite.

“... Not bad,” he mumbled.

“Nice! He complimented my cooking!” Hinami beamed.

“Atta girl, Hina. It’s not every day that Asahi hands out compliments for free like that. You should’ve seen the look on his face the last time I tried making him some fried rice...”

“Not my fault that it tasted like garbage. If it’s good, I’ll say it’s good; if it’s bad, then I’ll say it’s bad. But yeah, Hinami—your food was good,” Asahi retorted.

What Asahi had failed to mention was that he always took the cook’s feelings into account. When he told Chiaki that his food wasn’t good, he simply left it at that. He didn’t want to hurt his feelings any more than was necessary. And seeing how happy Hinami was when he’d complimented her dish only served to reinforce his beliefs—she was happily bouncing around with a smile on her face and enthusiastically making victory signs.

Asahi’s thoughts then wandered to Fuyuka. She’s probably trying my lunch right around now too...

Since the others were already digging into their meals, Asahi proceeded to open his without any hesitation.

“Wow, Asahi—your food looks seriously top-tier today,” Chiaki praised as he leaned over to admire Asahi’s lunch.

“Yeah, it feels like he put in more effort than usual... Don’t tell me that you were trying to compete with mine!” Hinami exclaimed.

“Not at all. I just happened to wake up a little early today, so I killed the extra time by cooking.”

“Oh, I see. That’s probably why you’ve seemed off all day... like you’ve been half asleep, you feel me?” Chiaki mused.

“Maybe? Yeah, you’re probably right. I am feeling really drowsy today,” Asahi replied flippantly as he eyed his food. There was no point in telling the truth.

Although the contents weren’t exactly bursting at the seams with love—like Hinami’s was—it was clear that he put a great deal of care into it, and he was convinced that it would taste good. As he placed a piece of omelet into his mouth, his mind continued to wander. At that very moment, Fuyuka was eating the exact same meal that he was.

I really hope she likes it...

*

Once lunch break was over, the festival’s afternoon activities began. In the past, Asahi and Chiaki had gone to support their friends on the other boy’s teams. However, things had recently started to change—little by little, students would show up to support their friends, regardless of their gender. Asahi recalled how, that very morning, several third-year girls had gone to cheer Ryuume on. They had definitely stood out from the crowd with their flashy clothes and bottle-blonde hair.

As for Asahi, he was making his way toward the basketball courts. Just as lunch break had ended, Hinami had blurted out, “I really hope you guys come to cheer for me when I play basketball!” Chiaki, ever the supportive boyfriend, had assured her that he and Asahi would certainly be there.

Not like I had a choice in the first place... Asahi grumbled to himself. At least he wasn’t attending to spur on someone special, unlike the other guys who were there. He felt obligated to do so, especially after Hinami had promised to give him the VIP brooch if she were to achieve victory. Seeing her so spirited and eager to give it her all made it impossible for him to ignore her. She was doing all of this for him—the least he could do was show up and root for her.

“Hinaaa! Let’s go! Give it to ‘em! Yeah, well done!” Chiaki cheered. “Asahi, come on! I can’t hear you!”

“G-Go Hinami..” Asahi said half-heartedly.

“You sound so depressed it’s almost funny! Ah! Nice one, Hina! Hit her with the layup!”

Despite Chiaki shouting his heart out to cheer on his girlfriend, he actually didn’t stand out much. The entire crowd was in an uproar, each person supporting their respective team with everything they had. Asahi craned his neck to get a better look of the court and spotted Hinami, the center of attention.

“Okay, Hina, mark her!” one of her teammates commanded.

“I got this!” she replied.

Hinami quickly positioned herself in front of Fuyuka, who was fast approaching with the ball. This wasn’t the first time they’d met in a one-versus-one, and it wouldn’t be the last—the first half had only just begun. Every time they squared off, the crowd’s fervor would only increase in anticipation for their upcoming plays.

Time passed swiftly with all the frenetic activity. Before everyone knew it, only five minutes remained on the clock before the end of the first half.

“You got five more minutes, Hinami! Don’t let her score!” Chiaki exclaimed as loudly as possible, trying his best to yell over the crowd.

Hinami tensed up, as if she’d heard Chiaki’s encouragement, and prepared to defend her position.

Fuyuka quickly dribbled around her in an attempt to rid herself of Hinami’s pressure. Although Hinami quickly closed her down and attempted to block her, she was already in position for the perfect shot. The ball sailed in a flawless arc and flew through the netting with a swish. Just as the ball was nearing the ground, the buzzer sounded, indicating the end of the first half.

“Damn, she scored a triple again? How many is that now?” Chiaki asked.

“Like three or four?” Asahi guessed.

“And to think she’s not even in the basketball club. I guess the rumors were true—Himuro’s just a beast,” Chiaki mumbled bitterly. Hinami wasn’t looking much better after that shot. Fuyuka’s performances had been outstanding in all of her matches so far, even more so than Hinami’s—the supposed national basketball champion. Fuyuka had barely missed any of her shots and had always shaken off her opponents with precision and swiftness. Her deftness impressed both opponents and spectators alike.

“I’ll head down to the court and chat with Hina while we wait for the second half,” Chiaki said.

“Guess I’ll go with you,” Asahi replied.

“Glad to hear you want to help me cheer Hina up.”

“Nah, I just want to grab myself a drink from the machine.”

“Hah, knew it. Okay, dude, see you in a bit.”

There were 10 minutes left before the second half would start, so they each had plenty of time to spare. Asahi left the gymnasium, conveniently tuning out Chiaki’s cries to bring him a drink, as well.

*

The closest vending machine was swarming with people, so Asahi decided to walk a little farther and head toward the main school building. The vending machines there had not a trace of human life around them.

“Oh...”

As he was considering which drink to purchase, he suddenly heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and spotted Fuyuka still sporting her gym attire.

“Not wearing your ribbon today?” he asked.

“I don’t normally wear it when I’m exercising,” she replied.

“Huh...”

Instead of her usual blue ribbon, she had been wearing a headband of the exact same color during the match. The school handed out these headbands to students as a way to “show solidarity” for the event... or so they claimed. In reality, the colorful accessories served as a way to help everyone differentiate themselves. Each class had its own—Asahi and Chiaki were wearing red, while Hinami was wearing green for her class. However, Fuyuka’s headband was different from her classmates’—not to mention that she had worn it in a different way.

“Thank you for the lunch, by the way,” she said.

“No problem.”

“It was delicious, particularly the omelet. That was my favorite.”

“Huh, okay,” Asahi muttered as he turned around to face the machine again.

“Is something wrong?” Fuyuka asked while tilting her head in confusion.

“No, it’s nothing.”

Despite trying his best to act normally, she’d managed to see right through him in the same way as Chiaki had earlier.

What the hell’s wrong with me? I got so excited when she praised my cooking that I can’t even look her in the eyes anymore. It’s been this way ever since I saw her smile this morning... Just remembering it is making my head spin. It’s pretty hard not to think about it with her so close to me! I wish I could talk to somebody about how I feel right now, because every time she’s near me, I feel like my heart’s about to jump out of my chest!

After failing to come up with a solid explanation for his behavior as he perused the drinks, he finally settled on getting a bottle of cold tea. He stepped aside to let Fuyuka choose for herself and quickly chugged the contents of the bottle, all the while trying to take his mind off the situation at hand.

After their brief and rather awkward exchange, Asahi knew he had to say something before they headed back—but what to say without coming across as weird? “I gotta say, you’re pretty good at basketball,” he finally managed to get out.

“So you were watching me?”

“Well, yeah. I did say I’d come to support you silently.”

Asahi tried to answer in a way that wouldn’t weird her out, but he couldn’t deny the fact that she was one of the reasons he’d joined Chiaki in watching the basketball tourney. Fuyuka didn’t pry any further. She instead sipped at her own sports drink and continued the conversation after a light pause.

“When I was younger, I’d play a lot of basketball with someone else at a park close to my home,” she began somewhat despondently.

One’s childhood could certainly impact one’s direction in life, but she seemed to be rather reluctant to delve into further details. Asahi wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination or not, but she’d sounded gloomy. It was his turn not to pry.

“Well, here’s to hoping you win,” Asahi said, hoping to change the conversation to cheer her up. Just as he’d hoped, her expression cleared up.

“There’s a pretty large discrepancy in terms of points, so I can’t imagine it’ll be easy for us.”

“I’m sure you can catch up fine if you wanted to. Just score a few more of those triples, and—”

“It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be. I’m playing against several basketball club members, and the girl who is marking me is especially skilled. I’ve managed to slip past her the last few times, but it won’t be so easy in the second half.”

She must be talking about Hinami. No wonder Fuyuka thinks she’s good—Hinami was a national champion at one point, after all.

Going into the second half, the score was 20-28 in Hinami’s team’s favor. For those who weren’t as well-versed in basketball, the match seemed to be close. Those who were familiar with the sport, however, could clearly see the difference in strength and skill between the two classes. It was quite apparent that Fuyuka had realized the disparity, as well—her tell-tale downcast gaze indicated that she had already conceded defeat.

“Himuro, tell me your favorite dish,” Asahi spoke up.

“Why the sudden question?” she asked.

“Just tell me.”

She had wanted to tell him for a split second, but then hesitated. She placed her hand over her mouth and deliberated. Eventually, she answered, “Omelet rice.”

“Okay, got it.”

“Why would you ask me that, though?”

“If you win today’s competition, I’ll cook it for you. I’ll make sure it’s the best you’ll ever taste.”

“What?” she gasped.

“You gotta win now. Better give it your all,” he teased. When no reply came, he explained, “Let’s just say that, uh, I don’t want the other team to win for... certain reasons.”

This time, his offer was based purely on selfishness—if Hinami won the MVP award, she would give her brooch to Asahi. Since that was essentially the same as a declaration of love—despite her true intentions—he wished to avoid the embarrassment and annoyance of the situation altogether. If Fuyuka were to come out victorious, he wouldn’t have to worry about any of those things. He had another selfish reason too, one that he couldn’t tell her—he wanted to see that smile of hers once more.

“So you’ll make me an omelet rice if I win?” she asked with a tinge of suspicion in her voice.

“Yeah. Obviously, I know that’s not enough of a reason for you to—”

“Deal.”

“Wait, you’re in?” he asked incredulously.

“You were the one who proposed the idea. Why are you so surprised?”

“Y-You do have a point there.”

“I’ll give it my all in the second half,” Fuyuka declared.

She fished the headband she’d worn earlier out of her pocket, gathered up her long, silky black hair, and used the headband to tie it up into a ponytail.

“You’d better not forget your promise,” she warned him with a smile. The sun illuminated her face, making her smile shine even brighter. With that, she turned around and returned to the gym.

Asahi was rooted to the spot. He chugged the remnants of his bottle in an attempt to regain his composure. Guess I’ll also have to give it everything I’ve got. If she really does win, I’ll have to cook my heart out, Asahi, who was fired up and ready to go, told himself.