"So, when solving for x using the quadratic formula, x is equal to negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus 4ac, all over 2a. Substituting the corresponding values from the equation 2x - 5x - 3 = 0, we get A = 2, B = -5, and C = -3. Now, by substituting these numbers into the formula, you should find that x equals both 3 and -½," explained Hamada-sensei.
He paced slowly at the front of the classroom, the dry erase marker in his hand squeaking faintly against the board as he circled the final answers. The scent of ink and faint whiff of dust from the open windows hung in the air.
"Is everyone following?" he asked, turning to scan the room.
"Yes, Hamada-sensei," the whole class responded in a practiced chorus, their voices echoing softly against the walls of the high-ceilinged room.
Naomi sat still, her pen resting between her fingers as she stared at the board. Her desk felt warm beneath her elbows from the afternoon sun pouring through the windows. "I'm at a loss for words, but I can't say that out loud," she thought, suppressing a sigh.
Sachiko glanced sideways at Tetsuo. His head was slightly tilted down, hair brushing against his notebook as he wrote in clean, precise strokes. The scratch of his pen was the only sound in their immediate vicinity. "I completely understand that formula because of the extra classes I took before high school, but I wonder if Tetsuo understood it as well."
Makoto slouched in his seat, one leg stretched out under the desk. He tapped his pencil against his shoe. "This is such a pain. I don't understand any of this crap," he muttered under his breath.
"Um, sir, you've completely lost me," Noboru said as he raised his hand, his voice cutting through the soft murmurs of scribbling.
Hamada-sensei stiffened slightly and looked over his glasses. "Oh really, Mr. Takemoto? And may I ask where exactly you got lost?"
"Well, I've been lost from the very start. I was just waiting for you to finish because I didn't want to interrupt," Noboru replied.
A few quiet snickers spread across the room.
"How are you lost from the start when this is just the formula?!" Hamada-sensei shouted, his voice rising an octave before he paused, caught himself, and exhaled sharply. His shoulders settled as he ran a hand down his tie.
"Sometimes I really wonder how he made it into the elite class with only two brain cells," Hamada thought to himself as he turned back to the board, the marker in his hand trembling slightly.
"Fine, I'll repeat it once more, but pay attention this time, got it?"
"Yes, sir. Loud and clear. Oh, and by the way, Hamada-sensei, your time is up," Noboru added with a grin.
The bell rang a split second later.
The classroom broke into low laughter as the students packed up, the sound of rustling papers and sliding chairs overtaking the room. Hamada-sensei sighed, setting the marker down on the ledge beneath the board.
"I've been dying to get out of that class. It's so boring, and I didn't understand a single thing," Noboru said to Shino as they walked out, the hallway buzzing with voices and slamming lockers.
"Speak for yourself. I understood some of it," Shino replied, adjusting the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder.
Hamada-sensei remained by the board, fingers curling around a piece of chalk before snapping it in half.
The gymnasium air was thick and humid, filled with the scent of rubber flooring, sweat, and old wood. The boys gathered on the court under the harsh glow of fluorescent lights.
"So, you're telling me that for this PE session, we'll just be running? That sucks—I wanted to shoot some hoops," Noboru grumbled.
"Shut up and get in line," barked the PE teacher, towering over the students with his arms crossed. The fabric of his polo shirt stretched tightly over his muscles.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. My name is Tsuyoshi Souma, and I'm in charge of your health and fitness. Today, you'll be tested on your physical capabilities, and then you can relax for the rest of the session. However, from now on, you'll be running in every session. Do I make myself clear?!"
"Yes, Souma-sensei!" the class shouted.
"Alright! We'll start with push-ups. Go!"
Hands hit the floor. The rubber matting pressed against their palms, gritty and warm. Sweat began to bead on foreheads within seconds.
"One, two, three, four, five..."
Souma's voice echoed through the gym. Breathing grew heavier. Elbows shook.
"...eight, nine, ten—"
Two boys collapsed, their faces pressed to the floor.
Meanwhile, out on the track, the girls of Class 1T were running under the pale afternoon sky. Naomi's footsteps landed with rhythmic precision against the rubber track, each stride smooth and steady. Her ponytail swayed with each motion. Her breath was controlled, barely audible, in contrast to the panting of her classmates far behind.
"Wow, Naomi is amazing, isn't she?" one girl said between breaths.
"I know! She's not just a fast sprinter—she has stamina too," another added.
Sachiko ran a few meters behind the pack, arms pumping, her breath sharp in her throat. Her legs felt heavier with each step, but she pushed forward.
"Alright, girls, you can take five," the PE teacher called out. Relief passed over their faces.
Naomi slowed, barely winded, and walked back toward Sachiko.
"Naomi, you're really something else," Sachiko panted, hunched slightly with her hands on her thighs.
"Well, it's my passion, so I can't allow myself to be beaten by anyone," Naomi said, her voice even. Her skin glistened slightly under the sun, but she looked ready to run again.
A girl leaned against the fence, glancing toward the gym. "Look, the boys are doing push-ups. At times like these, I'm glad I'm a girl."
"Looks like there are only seven boys left, and Tetsuo is one of them," Sachiko thought, catching sight of him through the open gym doors.
"Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…"
Noboru grunted, arms trembling. "Shit, my arms feel like they're going to fall off, but my pride won't let me come in seventh place."
Makoto's breathing was uneven. He grit his teeth. "This is such a pain. I'll stop at thirty."
"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…"
Shino dropped to the floor with a groan. Kiyoe followed, then two others.
Makoto finished at forty and rolled onto his side, his shirt clinging to his back.
Only Noboru and Tetsuo remained.
Tetsuo's form was perfect, hands placed evenly, breathing slow and controlled. Sweat beaded on his forehead but didn't break his expression.
Noboru pushed himself to forty-nine before his arms gave out. "There's no way I can win," he admitted as his chest hit the floor.
"You're not bad for a bunch of freshmen. And Tetsuo here is the winner, demonstrating the best muscular strength," Souma-sensei declared, marking the scores on his clipboard.
Sit-ups were next. Mats were laid out in rows. The boys lowered themselves down, their backs pressing into the mats.
Kiyoe tapped out at sixty-five. Shino groaned through sixty-seven. Makoto grunted his way to seventy-five.
Noboru sat up and down in a steady rhythm, face red, shirt damp. "Eighty-eight," Souma called.
Tetsuo didn't slow once. Each motion was clean, rising and falling with mechanical precision until he reached one hundred.
Finally, the cardiovascular test.
The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows on the track circling the school grounds. The boys took off in a staggered line.
Shino fell out first, hands on knees. Noboru, Makoto, and Tetsuo were the last three pushing forward.
Their shoes pounded against the pavement. Noboru's chest burned, lungs screaming. Makoto pushed ahead.
Tetsuo stayed just ahead of them, never looking back.
By the time they reached the gate, he was already leaning against the fence, breath steady.
"Damn it! Losing to Tetsuo was bad enough, but losing to Makoto too? That's embarrassing," Noboru groaned.
"Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen. Now that I've recorded the necessary data for each of you, you're free to relax for the rest of the session," Souma-sensei said before walking away.
Noboru lay flat on the track, eyes closed. "Man, I'm exhausted. My muscles are killing me."
"Um… don't you remember, Noboru? We have training after school today. I don't know why you're overexerting yourself," Shino said, sweat dripping from his brow.
"You know Nanaho won't go easy on us, even if we explain. Her training is already brutal—it'll probably kill us today. I don't know how I'm going to survive."
"Shit, we're screwed," Noboru muttered.
"Yeah, I'm skipping training today. I'll go lie down in the infirmary for now," Makoto said, yawning as he headed off.
Tetsuo, craving silence, wandered off toward the quietest part of the building. He found an open window on the third floor, the air cool against his sweat-dampened skin.
He leaned against the frame, resting his arms. Outside, tree branches swayed lightly, rustling with the wind.
He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. "This is nice," he thought.
"Um, excuse me. Can you move? You're blocking the wind," a quiet voice said.
He turned. In the room behind him sat a girl with long black hair and thin glasses. Her book lay open on her lap. She didn't look up.
Her presence was still. Cold.
Tetsuo's gaze met hers as she raised her head. Her eyes held no warmth.
The silence stretched.
He knew her.
The moment he looked into her lifeless eyes, he recognized her instantly.