The schoolyard looked like a festival. Bright banners strung between poles, the chatter of families filtering into the stands, and students darting about in matching headbands of red or white. The air buzzed with excitement, and Yu—sandwiched between Fumiko and Sakura—looked like he might faint from nerves.
"D-does it really have to be this lively?"
Yu stammered, his cheer uniform's skirt swishing around his knees as he fidgeted with his pom-poms.
"Of course!"
Sakura beamed, tugging Yu toward the cheer squad's corner.
"Sports Day is the event of spring! Everyone's watching, which means—"
"—which means we have to show them our cutest smiles!"
Fumiko finished, already practicing her poses. She shot Yu a teasing grin.
"Especially you, Yu-chan. You're the ace of adorableness."
Yu flushed scarlet, nearly dropping his pom-poms.
"Th-that's not even an event!"
Behind them, Yamato and Souma were already bickering as they stretched with the basketball club, their shouts echoing across the grounds. Taichi, in his crisp white headband, stood a little apart—though his eyes never left Yu. He should've been focusing on the drills, but every time Yu fumbled through a cheer step, nearly colliding with Sakura, Taichi's chest tightened with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.
"Oi, Taichi!"
Yamato jeered, noticing Taichi's distraction.
"Missed your pass again. What's the matter, cheering for your girlfriend instead?"
Souma snickered.
"Maybe he's already planning the victory kiss."
Taichi flushed red to the tips of his ears and threw the basketball at them—harder than necessary.
Later, the first relay race began. Yu had somehow been signed up for it—thanks to Sakura's fast-talking—and now stood trembling at the starting line, baton clutched in his small hands.
"I-I don't think I can—"
"You'll do great, Yu-chan!"
Sakura called from the sidelines, waving her pom-poms.
"Just remember, knees up, don't trip!"
Fumiko added, though her voice wavered with doubt.
The whistle blew. Yu bolted forward—only to nearly stumble on the first step. He flailed, arms pinwheeling, before catching himself and running with all the desperate energy of a startled rabbit. The crowd laughed, not cruelly but warmly, charmed by his earnest determination.
From the stands, Taichi clenched his fists, muttering under his breath.
"Don't fall. Don't fall…"
Yu didn't fall. Somehow, against all odds, he managed to pass the baton—nearly dropping it, but catching it just in time. His team cheered, and Yu bent over, panting, his face bright red.
"You see?"
Sakura crowed, bounding over.
"You were perfect!"
"I w-wasn't perfect at all…"
Yu wheezed. But the tiny smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.
The morning rolled on in a blur of events—tug-of-war, three-legged races, more relays. Yu kept fumbling, tripping, nearly collapsing, but somehow always pulled through. The others laughed, teased, and rallied around him, the atmosphere festive.
But even amid the laughter, shadows stirred.
From the sidelines, Isuke Sasaki's gaze tracked Yu. He watched the way Taichi hovered, how Yu lit up when their eyes met, how easily the crowd was swayed by Yu's clumsy charm.
'He's too distracted.'
Isuke thought.
'And Arifuku's grip on him is only getting stronger.'
The day was still bright, the cheers still loud. But the current beneath the surface had begun to shift.
The cheer squad had just finished their routine. Yu, panting from all the steps he still hadn't quite memorized, was tugging at his skirt self-consciously. The sunlight glinted off his pale legs, his sweat made them glisten even more and a group of second-year boys lounging near the edge of the track elbowed each other, their whistles sharp and not at all friendly.
"Hey, cheer girl, spin for us again!"
One called.
Yu froze, his face going crimson as laughter rippled from the group. He clutched his pom-poms tighter, shrinking in on himself.
Before Yu could retreat, a shadow fell over him. Taichi, jaw set, strode across the dirt track and wordlessly shrugged off his sports jacket. Without hesitation, he draped it over Yu's shoulders and tugged it down until it covered Yu's skirt entirely, the sleeves nearly swallowing his wrists.
The crowd quieted. The boys who'd jeered shut their mouths instantly at the dark fire in Taichi's eyes. It wasn't loud, it wasn't violent—but the message was clear:
he's mine.
Yu's heart thudded painfully. His hands trembled as he held the jacket closed, the fabric warm with Taichi's body heat. He glanced up, half in shock, half in awe, and his lips curved into a shy, helpless smile.
"Eeeee!"
Sakura squealed, clutching Fumiko's arm.
"Did you see that? That's so protective!"
"This is way better! No grabbing, just shielding! A+ Mr. Arifuku!"
Sakura nodded furiously, practically bouncing.
"Like out of a drama! Yu-chan, you lucky thing!"
Yu wanted to bury his entire face in the jacket, but before he could hide, Taichi leaned down and brushed a quick, firm kiss across his cheek. The girls squealed louder, and Yu squeaked, his knees nearly giving out. He ended up clutching Taichi's chest for balance, his face completely buried in him anyway.
Taichi chuckled low in his throat, one hand steadying Yu by the small of his back.
"So,"
He murmured just for him.
"Will you cheer for me in my events?"
Yu peeked up, eyes wide and still pink to the tips of his ears. Slowly, bashfully, he nodded.
"Y-yes. I'll… I'll cheer with everything I have."
"Good."
Taichi's grin softened into something warmer, gentler, as though the whole schoolyard had melted away and it was just them.
Just then the whistle blew. The next event was the highlight of the afternoon—basketball. Teams were forming up on either side of the court set up in the gymnasium. Taichi's headband gleamed bright white as he stepped forward, rolling his shoulders.
The announcer's voice rang out:
>"First match of the boys' basketball series! Team Arifuku… versus Team Sasaki!"
A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. Yu clutched his pom-poms tighter, suddenly tense.
Across the court, Isuke Sasaki smiled as he adjusted his own red headband, his gaze sliding directly to Yu for a beat before turning back to Taichi. The air between them snapped taut like a drawn bowstring.
This wasn't just a game anymore.
The gymnasium thrummed with noise—shoes squeaking, whistles shrilling, the steady thump of the ball echoing off polished wood. Students crowded the stands, a sea of uniforms and chatter, but to Yu it all felt muffled, like he was underwater. His whole focus was on the two figures standing at center court.
Taichi, broad shoulders squared, hand flexing on his knee as he bent low, his eyes locked forward.
Isuke Sasaki, calm and almost languid, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as if the outcome was already decided.
The whistle blew.
The ball soared up, and both boys leapt. Taichi's hand slapped it first, sending it back toward his teammates, and the game ignited.
"Go Taichi!"
Yu shouted before he even realized it, his voice swallowed by the roar of the crowd. He clutched his pom-poms tight against his chest, heart hammering.
DK01 then spoke out in Yu's mind.
[Nervous already, Host? If he loses, does that mean Isuke steals your heart along with the game?]
'No!'
Yu snapped inwardly, cheeks flaming as he shook his head to himself.
'I just… I want Taichi to win. He's trying so hard. He deserves it.'
Taichi drove down the court, dribbling hard, sweat gleaming at his temple. Isuke shadowed him like his reflection, his movements precise, controlled—almost mocking in their restraint.
"Arifuku,"
Isuke said low as they collided, body to body, fighting for space.
"You play like you've got something to prove."
Taichi shoved past him, jaw set.
"I do."
The ball left his fingertips—clean, arcing high. The crowd held its breath, and Yu's nails dug into his pom-poms.
Swish.
Cheers erupted. Taichi's team gained the lead. Yu gasped and nearly jumped to his feet. Relief flooded his chest so hard it hurt.
[He scored, but look at Sasaki. That calm expression? He's not even winded. He's waiting.]
Yu's throat tightened as he glanced across the court. Isuke caught the inbound pass, weaving through defenders with unnerving grace. His eyes flicked briefly—sharply—toward Yu before he launched the ball.
Swish.
Perfect.
Effortless.
Yu stiffened. His breath stuttered.
"Taichi…"
He whispered, almost like a prayer.
The game spiraled faster, a storm of sneakers and shouts, Taichi's power against Isuke's precision. Each time Taichi scored, Yu cheered with all his heart, but each time Isuke answered, that tight coil of unease wound sharper in Yu's chest.
'Was Taichi straining too much? Would he tire first?'
[You're practically chanting his name. If willpower alone could make him win, you'd already have this game locked.]
Yu bit his lip, eyes never leaving Taichi.
'Please, please… don't lose to him. Not here, not now.'
Taichi caught Yu's gaze across the gym for a fleeting second. He smiled—quick, fierce, like a promise—and pivoted hard, breaking past Isuke's guard. He leapt, muscles tight with focus, and slammed the ball through the hoop. The gym shook with cheers.
Yu's whole body surged with pride and warmth. He didn't even realize he was crying until a tear slipped down his cheek.
Taichi landed, chest heaving, and that fleeting grin returned—not for the crowd, not for the score—for Yu.
The whistle shrieked. Timeout. Both teams regrouped, but the air between Taichi and Isuke was still crackling, hot and sharp as lightning. Yu immediately darted down the sidelines, clutching the water bottle and towel he'd prepared. He wasn't the only one. A small cluster of girls rushed forward too, their voices high with excitement as they each held out their own bottles and snacks.
But Taichi didn't even glance at them. His eyes locked only on Yu, warm and certain, and he strode past the others without hesitation.
"Thanks, Yu."
He said, taking the bottle and towel Yu offered like they were treasures, his grin tired but real.
The other girls froze, their hopeful smiles faltering into awkward silence. Embarrassment colored their faces, and they slipped back into the crowd, whispering to each other.
The boys in the stands muttered too, envy dripping in their voices.
"Arifuku's so lucky."
"Where'd he find a girlfriend like that?"
Yu's chest bloomed with happiness so wide he thought it might burst. His cheeks burned, but he beamed up at Taichi anyway.
Across the court, though, Isuke Sasaki stood tall, a towel draped over his neck. A half-dozen girls swarmed him, pressing bottles, snacks, and tissues into his hands. He accepted them with that polite, practiced smile, but his eyes—narrow, simmering—kept flicking toward Yu and Taichi.
The whistle blew again. Timeout was over.
Yu scrambled back to the sidelines, pom-poms clutched in his hands. His faith was unwavering.
'Taichi will win. I know he will. He's stronger, he's determined, and I'll cheer with everything I've got for him.'
The ball was tossed into play.
At first, Yu's belief seemed true. Taichi's team surged ahead with fast, clean passes, and another basket brought cheers rattling through the gym. Yu's voice rang above them all.
"Go, Taichi!"
But then…
The ball slipped, rolled, and somehow, always ended up in Isuke Sasaki's hands.
He cut across the court like water flowing downhill, graceful, inevitable. Every shot he took swished cleanly through the net. Every rebound landed right where he stood. No matter how tight the defense, the ball found him, like the game itself bent to his favor.
Taichi's team faltered. The score gap narrowed. Then flipped.
Yu's cheers wavered. Confusion coiled in his chest.
'Wait… no, this isn't right. Taichi was winning. He should be winning.'
DK01's voice replied.
[Ah, I see you've noticed.]
Yu's grip on his pom-poms tightened.
'Noticed what?'
[Isuke Sasaki. He's the protagonist of this world. Blessed with the so-called "halo." Everything bends for him—luck, chance, skill. The ball will always roll into his hands. His shots will always land. No matter the odds, he'll always rise to the top.]
Yu's heart lurched.
'That's… that's not fair!'
[Fairness is irrelevant, Yu. Taichi Arifuku is just an antagonist character. No matter how hard he fights, he cannot eclipse a protagonist. That's how these worlds are designed.]
Yu bit down hard on his lip, frustration swelling inside him. His eyes burned as he stared at Taichi, who was panting, sweat dripping, still giving everything he had against impossible odds.
'It doesn't matter. I won't let that be the truth. I'll cheer for him—louder, harder, with everything I am. Taichi will win because… because I believe in him!'
His voice rose above the crowd, cracking but fierce.
"Taichi! You can do it! I'm here! I believe in you!"
Taichi glanced his way, determination blazing in his eyes as if Yu's voice had reached straight into his chest.
But across the court, Isuke dribbled the ball effortlessly, his smirk cool, the halo around him unseen but unshakable.
The gym roared as the score gap widened.
The final whistle echoed sharp through the gym. The scoreboard glared down mercilessly: Isuke Sasaki's team—victory.
The stands erupted, cheers and applause ringing in the air. Girls squealed Sasaki's name, his teammates clapped him on the back, and for a moment it looked like a scene torn straight out of a shōnen manga—perfect, dazzling, inevitable.
But Yu's gaze never left Taichi.
He was bent over, palms on his knees, breath coming hard, sweat plastering his bangs to his forehead. His team tried to comfort him, but Yu was already moving, weaving through the crowd with no hesitation.
"Taichi!"
He burst onto the court and threw his arms around him, pressing close.
"You were amazing! So strong, so fast—you made it so exciting. I'm so proud of you!"
Taichi blinked down at him, stunned. His chest heaved against Yu's cheek, his hands hovering, uncertain.
And then Yu rose onto his toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Quick, clumsy, but fierce with sincerity.
The whole gym seemed to fall silent for a heartbeat.
Taichi's eyes widened, but only for a moment. Then he crushed Yu into his arms, the kiss still burning on his lips.
"...Next time…"
He murmured into Yu's hair, voice rough.
"Next time, I'll do better."
Yu shook his head, humming softly, fingers clutching Taichi's jersey.
"I don't care if you win or lose. I like you just the same."
Taichi flushed crimson, ears scarlet as he held Yu tighter.
"Oi, oi!"
Yamato hollered from the sidelines, laughing.
"Don't smother her right here, man—save that for the honeymoon!"
Sakura and Fumiko squealed in delight, tugging each other's sleeves.
"They're like a married couple already!"
Souma grinned and shouted.
"Good game, Taichi! Even if we lost, you made it crazy intense—seriously, respect."
The teasing washed over them, warm and playful, but Yu and Taichi clung together in their own little world, all fluster and comfort and quiet devotion.
Across the court, Isuke Sasaki stood tall, towel draped around his neck. His teammates roared their praise, slapping his shoulders, the girls crowded in, blushing and holding out water bottles, chocolates, anything.
But the noise was dull. The weight of victory hollow.
Because no matter how loudly others cheered, it wasn't Yu running to him. It wasn't Yu's voice praising him.
He tightened his fist on the towel, jaw stiff.
'Why does it bother me so much? Why does it matter if that smile, that kiss, belongs to him?'
He didn't want to admit it. But his chest already knew the truth.
Even though he had won, tonight, somehow, he felt like he had lost.
---
The Sports Day wound down in a whirl of laughter, gossip, and the buzz of lingering adrenaline. Taichi kept Yu close, his hand never straying far from his waist or his fingers, as if the world might steal him away if he didn't. Yu's cheeks stayed pink long after the kiss, the girls still gushing, the boys cracking jokes—but all of it rolled into the warm hum of a memory already destined to stay precious.
Evening settled, the banners and ribbons packed up, the courts swept clean. And just like that, the noise of competition faded into the rhythm of everyday life.
By Monday morning, Sports Day was only whispers in the hallways and photos on Instagram. The loudspeaker's sharp crackle jolted everyone back to reality:
> "Reminder: midterm examinations are scheduled to begin next week. All students are expected to continue diligent study and club participation."
A collective groan rose in the classroom.
Yu glanced at his neatly organized notes, then at the study packets tucked into his bag. For the first time, he felt the weight of both: the bright, messy warmth of life with Taichi and their friends—and the sharp, demanding pressure of what it would take to keep his first place rank.
DK01 hummed in the back of his mind, ever clinical.
[The real test is beginning now. Can you balance both—love and survival?]
Yu tightened his grip on his pen, cheeks puffing as he squared his shoulders.
He had to.
---
The warm glow of Sports Day didn't last long. By the next morning, the classroom was already thick with tension—pens tapping, paper shuffling, whispered complaints about cram schools and late-night study sessions. The reminder of midterms next week hung over everyone like storm clouds.
Yu sat ramrod straight at his desk, eyes fixed on the review sheets spread before him. His handwriting had gotten steadier then in the past, his notes neater, but the sheer volume of information felt like trying to hold water in cupped hands.
Taichi nudged his arm under the desk, whispering low.
"Don't burn yourself out. I'll help you tonight."
The words were grounding, but Yu still puffed his cheeks, determined. He couldn't afford to slip—first place wasn't optional.
---
By the time club hours rolled around, the pressure had twisted itself into something almost comedic. Fumiko Fujimori and Sakura Sato had staged an impromptu "quiz-off" over lunch, bickering like game-show contestants. Yamato Yamada had tried to bribe Souma Satou with bread in exchange for homework answers. Even Taichi, usually cool, got caught trying to sneak answers from Yu's notebook—earning him a light smack with Yu's pencil and laughter from their friends.
But the Harmony Life Club was quieter. Calmer.
Yu sat bent over a square of fabric, tongue caught between his teeth as he tried to stitch two tiny initials: Y.H. + T.A., ringed by lopsided hearts. The thread tangled more than once, but Haruka Minami's steady guidance kept him going. Every clumsy success made Yu's chest bubble with shy pride.
It was there, in that gentle stillness, that Isuke Sasaki finally struck.
He stepped closer, hands tucked in his pockets, his gaze sharp behind the polite mask.
"Yu-chan. Exams are next week. Do you need help studying?"
Yu jolted, needle nearly slipping. He turned to blink up at Isuke, surprised by the bluntness.
"Eh? Uh—no. I'm fine."
Isuke tilted his head, voice calm but threaded with steel.
"You're balancing a lot. Clubs. Classes. …Relationships."
His eyes flicked, just for a breath, toward the hearts Yu was sewing.
"I'd hate to see you lose your scholarship."
Heat flared in Yu's cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and irritation. He huffed, puffing his cheeks like he always did when flustered.
"I don't need your help! I'm— I'm fine. Really."
With that, Yu turned back to his stitching, shoulders hunched protectively, leaning closer to Haruka as she offered a soft smile and another bit of sewing advice.
The faint scratch of thread through fabric filled the silence, Yu's determination written in every tiny heart.
Isuke's jaw tightened, unreadable, as he watched the boy stitch his loyalty into a handkerchief meant for someone else.
---
By the time Yu left the Harmony Life Club, the stitched fabric felt warm in his palms, like it was carrying every ounce of his clumsy effort and earnest heart. The initials weren't perfect, the hearts leaned a little crooked, but he held it close anyway.
When Taichi appeared at the school gates, sweaty hair falling into his eyes and his bag slung carelessly over his shoulder, Yu's steps quickened.
"I… I made this today."
Yu blurted, thrusting the folded square into Taichi's hands before he could lose his nerve. His cheeks flamed pink.
"It's, um… for good luck. For midterms."
Taichi blinked down at the handkerchief, then at Yu. Slowly, his mouth softened into a smile, wide and unguarded. He raised the fabric to his lips and pressed against it, like he was kissing the very hands that stitched it.
"You made this for me?"
His voice was rough, almost hoarse.
"God, Yu… I don't even— I'm so happy right now. I love it. I'll keep it with me."
He tucked the handkerchief carefully into his pocket, like it was treasure, then reached for Yu's hand. His long fingers interlaced with Yu's smaller ones, the motion so familiar now it almost felt natural.
Almost.
Yu's blush deepened, but his grip returned, shy and sure at once.
The late-spring air was cool as they walked side by side, their joined hands swinging lightly between them. Taichi kept stealing glances at him, like he couldn't quite believe Yu had given him something so thoughtful, while Yu tried to focus on the path, heart thundering from the quiet intimacy.
By the time they reached their apartment complex, the world had dimmed into evening, but their warmth burned bright between their palms.