The following week at Sakura High buzzed with excitement and restlessness. Posters for the upcoming school festival were plastered across every corridor — colorful, bold, and brimming with student enthusiasm. From dance performances to exhibitions, every club was preparing to outshine the rest.
But among them all, two stood out.
The Cosmic S.T.A.R. Club, with their mysterious-sounding "Mini Planetarium Café," and the Science and Technology Club, known for their cutting-edge inventions and competitive spirit. Both had gained a certain reputation — one for their creativity and charm, the other for their intellect and precision.
And naturally, rivalry was inevitable.
Haruto was setting up a small projector model on the club's table when Souta came rushing in, waving a flyer in his hand like it was a declaration of war. "Guys! You won't believe this!"
Luna raised an eyebrow. "What now?"
"The Science Club just announced their festival project — a fully interactive AI-guided robotic exhibition! They're calling it 'Future Genesis'! Look at this poster!"
He slammed the paper onto the table. The glossy flyer showed sleek humanoid robots, holographic designs, and a tagline that read: "Witness the Future — Brought to Life."
Tadao let out a low whistle. "That's… ambitious."
Beru tilted her head, concern flickering in her eyes. "But that means we're up against something really advanced. Everyone's going to want to see robots."
Luna crossed her arms, her voice calm but sharp. "They've always been competitive. This time, they want the top spot for sure."
Haruto examined the poster quietly before setting it aside. "Then we'll just have to make sure people feel something when they visit ours. They'll see machines, but when they come to us… they'll see the universe."
Beru smiled softly at that, her confidence flickering back to life. "Yeah. We'll make them dream, not just think."
But as much as they wanted to stay optimistic, tension soon began to ripple across the school.
Rumors spread fast — whispers about how the Science Club was getting sponsorship from an electronics company, or that their robots could serve food, talk, and even dance.
"Dance?!" Souta exclaimed when he overheard. "If they make robots dance, we're doomed!"
Tadao shrugged. "Relax. People like heart more than circuits."
"Yeah, but what if the circuits have better jokes than me?"
"Not possible," Haruto said flatly, earning a chorus of laughter from the group.
Still, underneath the laughter, a flicker of unease remained. The Science Club had always been at the top — they'd won Best Exhibit three years in a row. Their leader, Ren Shirogane, was a genius known for his sharp wit and colder-than-ice composure.
And soon enough, they met face to face.
It was after school, in the main hall, when Haruto and Beru were carrying decorations back from storage. They turned the corner, and there he was — Ren, surrounded by his club members, testing a sleek white android that blinked and greeted passersby with eerie realism.
Ren noticed Haruto and smirked faintly. "Ah, Azechi. Heard you're running some kind of… themed café?"
Haruto nodded. "Yeah. The Mini Planetarium Café. You'll see it at the festival."
"Cute," Ren said simply. "But you might want to step up your game. We're not exactly holding back this year."
Beru frowned. "You talk as if the festival's a war."
He looked at her, eyes gleaming faintly behind his silver-framed glasses. "Isn't it? The school only remembers the best. Everything else fades into the background."
Haruto's jaw tightened, though his tone stayed calm. "Then we'll just have to make sure we're remembered too."
Ren smirked again before turning back to his team. "Good luck, then. You'll need it."
As they walked away, Beru sighed. "He's so full of himself."
Haruto chuckled softly. "He's not wrong about one thing though. This festival will decide a lot. Let's give them something they can't forget."
The next few days became a whirlwind of preparation — and growing rivalry.
Both clubs worked tirelessly, and the tension between them thickened. The Science Club took over one half of the lab building, while the Cosmic S.T.A.R. Club occupied the old astronomy room. Every time someone passed by the other's area, there were subtle glares, sarcastic comments, and the occasional challenge.
One particular afternoon, Souta wandered into the lab by accident, looking for extra paint. Within seconds, a voice called out:
"Well, if it isn't the stargazer comedian."
Ren stood near a workbench, his sleeves rolled up, calibrating a robot arm. The rest of his members eyed Souta curiously.
"Just borrowing some paint," Souta said, holding up a half-empty can.
"Paint?" Ren smirked. "Planning to cover your café's cracks with it?"
Souta grinned. "At least we don't need metal puppets to make people smile."
The air grew sharp. A few Science Club members chuckled under their breath, but one of them — a tall guy with spiky hair — stepped forward. "You wanna repeat that, clown?"
"Hey, calm down," Souta said, lifting his hands. "I'm not here to start trouble—"
Before anything could escalate, Haruto appeared at the doorway, his calm but firm voice cutting through the room. "He's not alone."
Ren turned his gaze toward him, unflinching. "Azechi."
Haruto met his eyes evenly. "We're here for the same reason. To make something great. No need to pick fights."
For a moment, silence stretched between them — tense, like a drawn wire. Then Ren smiled faintly. "We'll see whose 'greatness' the crowd prefers."
Haruto didn't answer. He simply took Souta by the arm and left, their footsteps echoing through the corridor.
Back in their room, Souta groaned. "Man, those guys really have a stick up their—"
"Let's not," Haruto interrupted, setting down his bag. "Don't let them get to you. We'll win with what we're best at — heart."
Beru nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Our café isn't about showing off. It's about connection."
"Still," Luna added, flipping through her notes, "we should up our presentation. Add a little tech touch. Maybe a light synchronization system for the stars?"
"That's a great idea," Haruto said, his eyes lighting up. "We can make the ceiling react to music — like the constellations are dancing."
Beru smiled. "Then let's do it. We'll mix science and emotion."
And so, the work intensified.
Days turned into long hours of brainstorming, coding, decorating, and rehearsing. The Cosmic S.T.A.R. Club transformed their corner into a wonderland of light and imagination. Tadao handled the wiring, Luna managed the visuals, Souta practiced his "café host act" (complete with cosmic puns), and Beru perfected her desserts.
But the Science Club wasn't slacking either. Rumors spread that Ren's team had programmed robots capable of taking orders and delivering them with uncanny precision. They even scheduled a live demonstration two days before the festival — open for all to watch.
When the demonstration day arrived, the entire school gathered in the gym. The Science Club's exhibit was nothing short of breathtaking — sleek robots moving gracefully, serving drinks, and responding to voice commands with charming humor.
The crowd was amazed. Even teachers applauded.
Beru's confidence wavered slightly. "They're incredible…"
Haruto watched quietly, his expression unreadable. "They are. But we're not them."
Souta leaned closer. "Meaning?"
Haruto turned to face his team. "They're showing the future. We'll show the soul."
Those words reignited something within them.
That night, the Cosmic S.T.A.R. Club stayed late, refining every detail — from lighting effects to dessert plating. Beru tested recipes again, flour streaking her cheek as she worked. Luna calibrated the star projector while Tadao adjusted sound frequencies. Souta practiced his introductions until his voice cracked.
"Tomorrow," Haruto said, looking around at his friends with quiet determination, "we show them what dreams look like."
Beru smiled softly. "Then let's make sure our stars shine brighter than ever."
Outside, the wind swept through the cherry blossoms, scattering petals across the school grounds — as if the universe itself was watching their rivalry unfold.
In two corners of Sakura High, two forces prepared to define what the festival would remember:
One forged from steel and circuits — sharp, calculated, perfect.
The other crafted from laughter, hope, and light — imperfect, but human.
And as midnight approached, both clubs worked tirelessly under the same sky, their fires of ambition burning bright — two constellations destined to collide.
---
To be continued...