Naoka stood at the starting line of the track, dressed in her white P.E. shirt and red track pants, her whistle glinting under the faint sunlight. One arm raised, the other holding the whistle at her lips, she called out clearly,
"On your mark!"
The boys of her class bent forward into position, their small legs tensing.
"Get set!"
The air became still for a moment as the kids focused with all their strength.
Fweee!
Naoka blew the whistle and swung her arm down. The boys burst forward, running with all their might, their sneakers slapping against the dirt track. The other children cheered wildly from the sidelines, calling out their friends' names at the top of their lungs.
"Go, go, faster, you'll win!"
"Come on, Hiroshi!"
Ryu stood a little apart, stretching with calm movements like the other kids whose turn would come next. He didn't need the warm-up—his body didn't really get hurt from such things—but rules were rules, and so he stretched anyway, blending in like everyone else.
The race finished quickly, with one boy crossing the line first. He immediately threw his arms up in a ridiculous pose and shouted,
"I am Power Ranger Draco! Nobody can beat me!"
The other kids laughed and groaned at his antics, but some clapped for him anyway.
As Ryu leaned down for another stretch, something rolled against his leg. A small, soft red ball stopped at his feet. He blinked, then looked up to see a tiny girl from kindergarten running toward him, her short hair bouncing with each hurried step.
She stopped in front of him, tilting her head back to meet his gaze with wide eyes.
"Onii-chan, give me the ball."
Ryu picked up the ball and held it up with a mischievous smile.
"What ball? Where is it? I don't see anything."
The little girl puffed her cheeks, pointing at his hand. "There! There it is!"
"I really don't see it," Ryu said playfully, moving the ball behind his back.
Just as the girl's pout deepened, a soft hand came down on his head. Ryu blinked upward to see Naoka standing there, her expression a mix of gentle sternness and amusement.
"Don't tease the little ones, Ryu," she said, patting his hair.
Ryu grinned. "I was just playing with her."
The girl finally snatched the ball from his hand with a huff. "Bad onii-chan!" she said before turning on her heel and running back to her friends.
Naoka shook her head lightly, watching the girl go. "See? You made her angry now."
Ryu laughed softly, shoulders shrugging. "I didn't do anything bad, though."
Her lips curved into a faint smile as she sighed. "Just get ready. Your turn's coming up after this race."
"Got it," Ryu nodded, returning to his spot at the sideline.
Naoka walked back to the starting line, raising her arm again as the second group of runners stepped forward, their faces already set with determination.
Ryu looked back toward the kindergarteners playing near the main gate of the school. Their little red ball bounced between tiny hands as they laughed and chased each other.
Beyond them, past the fence, the highway stretched like a gray ribbon, cars and buses flashing by in the damp air of the season. The school was built right at the edge of town, where fields met asphalt, giving it an odd blend of quiet countryside and the hum of passing traffic.
The kindergarten teacher crouched among the children, clapping as they played.
For a moment, she glanced in Ryu's direction, her eyes meeting his. Startled at first, she softened and gave him a bright wave. Ryu, expression calm as always, lifted his hand in return. She smiled, then quickly returned her attention to the little ones tugging at her sleeves.
'That's the rhythm of life,' Ryu thought. 'Play some, study some. For kids my age, it's seventy percent study, fifteen percent play… and the rest just homework. But for them, it's simpler. Just play even when studying.'
He finished his stretching, rolling his shoulders once before standing upright. Just then, Naoka called his name along with a few others.
"Alright, next group—Ryu, Kenji, Daisuke, Haru—come forward!"
Ryu walked toward the starting line with the other boys, taking his place. He bent down slightly, positioning himself in a relaxed stance, blending in as always. Naoka raised her hand again, her whistle at her lips—
"On your—"
"Miss Kobayashi!" a soft but urgent voice interrupted.
Naoka turned her head slightly to see the kindergarten teacher hurrying closer, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She leaned in and whispered, "I'm so sorry, could you watch my class for just a moment? I—I need to use the restroom."
Naoka blinked, then gave a reassuring smile. "Of course. Please, don't worry."
The kindergarten teacher bowed quickly in gratitude before hurrying toward the school building, her shoes tapping against the floorboards of the hallway as she disappeared inside.
Naoka sighed softly, lowering her raised arm, then turned her gaze back toward the small crowd of five-year-olds by the gate. They were still playing, but without their teacher, she had to keep a sharper eye on them.
Then she looked back at her own class, who had already taken their stances, some fidgeting impatiently.
Naoka, her eyes flicking once more toward the kindergarteners, saw them laughing and safe, tossing their red ball in uneven arcs while a few others played chase across the grass. With a small nod, satisfied nothing was amiss, she turned back to her own class.
"Alright then," she called, raising her arm high. "On your mark!"
Ryu and the others dropped into their stances, the soft crunch of gravel under their sneakers the only sound breaking the air.
"Get set—"
The boys tensed, legs coiled like springs, breaths held tight in their chests.
Pheeet!
The sharp note of Naoka's whistle cut through the air as her arm dropped. The children launched forward, pumping their arms and legs with all the energy a nine-year-old could muster.
Dust lifted from the track. Shoes pounded in rhythm. Voices from the sidelines—other students chanting names—rose in a playful chorus.
Ryu's form was clean, each stride efficient, but his pace was… restrained. To everyone else it looked like he was giving his all, his face showing the same effortful determination as the others, yet his speed was modest. He ran alongside them, not ahead of them.
Because his truth was far different. His body—his mutation—could generate a speed no human sprinter could hope to match. If he truly moved, even the fastest Olympian would look like they were standing still.
Of course, that was only compared to humans. Among mutants, speedsters existed who could tear across entire cities in a blink, their steps warping air itself. Compared to them, his velocity was nothing remarkable.
So he ran like a child. He breathed heavier than he needed to, let his arms swing wider, let his steps fall just short of where they could.
Naoka clapped her hands once, cheering the pack of boys as they thundered toward the end of the track.
"Good, good! Keep going! Almost there!"
The finish line drew near, and one boy surged ahead, face red with exertion. Ryu let him take it.
Because for him, winning wasn't the goal.
***
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