"Hey, Tetsuo, can you bring these hurdles to the storage room? We need to cool down for our last session, and you know how scary Hayami-sensei is. Plus, you can run faster than anyone here, so you won't be late," said a boy from Class 1T, waving him over with one hand while balancing a towel on his neck.
Tetsuo let out a short breath and nodded. "Okay, I guess," he replied, grabbing two hurdles and heading across the field. His hands pressed against the cold, dusty metal, and a bit of rust flaked off as he adjusted his grip.
The sun beat down steadily, heating the back of his neck and soaking into his uniform. His shirt stuck slightly to his back, damp from earlier drills. On his first trip into the storage room, the thick air inside smelled faintly of old rubber mats, dried sweat, and the metallic tang of worn-out sports gear.
He worked quietly, slipping in and out of the room, stacking the hurdles neatly against the far wall. Each time he returned, the pile outside grew smaller. A layer of dust stuck to his palms and clung under his fingernails. He brushed it off with quick slaps against his thighs, but the gritty feel lingered.
After several trips, he hoisted the last two hurdles into his arms. His shoulders ached from repetition, and he shifted the weight slightly as he stepped inside.
He placed the final hurdles on top of the stack and exhaled. "And that's the last of it," he muttered, wiping his hands together. His voice echoed faintly in the quiet room. He turned toward the exit. "I have to get back to class—I don't have much time."
As he neared the door, footsteps approached from the hallway. The soft thud of rubber soles on the concrete floor caught his attention just before the door creaked open.
Sachiko stepped in with a box of equipment pressed against her chest. Her arms were slightly tense from the weight. She bent her knees a little, setting it down with a small thud.
Their eyes met—briefly. She looked surprised to see him. Tetsuo immediately turned to walk past her, but she stepped sideways, her shoulder pressing against the edge of the doorway. With a firm push, she closed the door behind her.
"This is perfect timing," she said with a small smile, brushing her hands on her shorts.
Tetsuo stopped a few feet away, his expression flat. "Move out of my way."
"No, I won't," she said, her voice steadier than before. "It seems like you have a real problem with me, and I don't even know why. We need to talk about this right now."
He stared at her. "I'll say it once more. Move. We're going to be late for class."
"I will—once I've talked to you."
Footsteps echoed again in the corridor outside. A voice called out.
"Naomi, here's the key. Hurry up and lock the storage room," Miyu said.
"Alright, I'll be right there," Naomi replied.
Sachiko's eyes widened. Her head snapped toward the sound, and she flinched. "Oh no, wait! Naomi is coming. If she finds out I'm in the storage room alone with Tetsuo, I won't hear the end of it. I can't let her see us, or she'll get the wrong idea and tease me forever," she thought, panic building in her chest.
"Come on, Tetsuo, let's hide," she said quickly, reaching out and grabbing his wrist.
"Hey—" he muttered, but she pulled him behind a tall shelf loaded with balls, cones, and jump ropes. The back of the shelf was dim, dustier than the rest of the room, and the air felt warmer without any circulation. A cobweb brushed against his shoulder, and he instinctively shook it off.
The door creaked open.
"I could've sworn I heard someone in here… Oh well," Naomi's voice said. A brief pause. Then the sound of metal scraping and a quiet click.
The door shut. The lock turned.
A second passed. Then another.
Sachiko's face paled. She rushed out from behind the shelf and grabbed the handle, twisting it frantically. The knob didn't budge. "Crap! We're going to miss class. Naomi! Are you there?" she shouted, banging on the door with both palms. Her voice bounced off the walls, but no answer came.
Tetsuo stepped out from the shadows, brushing off his sleeves.
"It's too late. No one will hear you," he said, standing a few feet from her. "Everyone's in class by now. We'll have to wait until track practice starts before we can get out."
Back in the main building, the classrooms hummed quietly.
"Where the heck is Tetsuo? Homeroom is about to end. He's in for it tomorrow when Hayami-sensei gets her hands on him," Noboru muttered under his breath. He leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his desk.
"It's weird for Sachiko to miss class. She never does. I wonder if the student council called her for something important… That must be it," Naomi thought as she glanced at the empty seat beside her. She tapped her pen once against her notebook, her brows drawn slightly together.
Up front, Hayami-sensei closed her planner and clapped her hands lightly to get the class's attention.
"Alright, everyone, we'll talk more about the trip we're going on next year. As for the expenses, Rie and Shino will be managing the money, so when the time comes, they'll be responsible," she said as the final bell rang.
Shino looked toward the back of the room. "Noboru, do you know where Tetsuo went?" he asked.
"I'm as clueless as you are. It's not like him to miss class," Noboru replied, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
"Oh, that's right. Makoto, you coming?" he asked as they headed toward the hallway.
"I'm skipping today. Got things to do," Makoto said coolly, already walking away with his hands in his pockets.
"Nanaho is gonna be pissed," Noboru muttered as he watched him disappear.
Meanwhile, in the basketball gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking and the thud of the ball echoed through the space.
"Listen up, Hayato. After Liam steps up to the top of the free-throw line, I want you to pass the ball to him. Noboru, set a screen for him, then pop out to the top of the three-point line. Got it?" Nanaho instructed from the sideline.
Hayato nodded, ball in hand, and dribbled up past half-court, guarded tightly by Takahiro.
Noboru moved first, shaking off Shino with a sharp sidestep and rushing in to set a screen on Takahiro. Hayato used the opening and passed the ball to Liam, who took two quick steps to the free-throw line. Yukio, focused on Hayato, didn't react fast enough—Liam slipped into the paint and dunked the ball cleanly, the rim rattling on impact.
Nanaho clapped her hands. "Great work, everyone. That was a solid effort. That's it for today—you guys can go home."
"I can't believe Tetsuo didn't show up today. I wonder if he's okay," Yukio said, grabbing a towel from the bench.
"Yeah, it's unusual for him. He never misses training," Liam added, breathing heavily.
"Speaking of which, Makoto didn't show up either," Hayato noted.
"Yeah, I thought he'd be here, but Noboru said he was tired and went home," Takahiro replied.
"Just you wait, that slacker Makoto is going to get what's coming to him," Nanaho said with a smirk.
"May God save you from the tragic pain and suffering that's coming your way, Makoto," Noboru muttered as he packed up his shoes.
Back in the storage room, the silence hung heavy.
Sachiko leaned against the shelf with her arms crossed tightly, tapping her fingers against her elbow. Tetsuo sat a few feet away on an overturned crate, his eyes fixed on the floor. The air was still and warm, and both of them had stopped trying to open the door a while ago.
Finally, she spoke.
"Listen, Kawaguchi, I'm really sorry about you missing class. That wasn't my intention," she said, her voice softer than before.
Tetsuo didn't look up right away. A few minutes passed. His hands rested on his knees, unmoving.
"It's not your fault. You just reacted without thinking," he said flatly.
"Yes, I did. But honestly, Kawaguchi, I really want to know. Please talk to me. Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something so horrible that you had to start treating me like this? I don't even know what I did, and that's why this is really bothering me. Please, just tell me," she said, shifting closer, her voice trembling slightly.
Tetsuo lifted his head. His eyes were calm, but his jaw was tight.
"You really don't remember what happened, do you?" he said. "Fine. Let me tell you."
Sachiko's heart dropped. Her breath caught, and she instinctively stepped back, bumping lightly into the shelf behind her.
"What do you mean, Kawaguchi? I would never say something like that about you," she said, confused and shaken.
"You didn't say it to my face, but I heard you and your friends talking about me and my little sister behind my back. From that day on, I never trusted anyone again," Tetsuo said. His voice remained low, but his fingers curled into his palms as he spoke.
Sachiko's lips parted slightly, and she took a slow breath, the weight of his words hitting her.
"Please… it wasn't like that. Let me explain," she pleaded, her voice cracking.