A few weeks later...
Within the classroom, the silence was painted only by the clock's tick; two figures stayed behind—the homeroom teacher and Mary.
They're here to discuss Mary's assigned task: tutoring Haru Urara.
Mary stood stiffly, her posture upright as if she were in front of a judge.
Her eyes glanced at her teacher, who sat calmly at the desk, holding a sheet of paper between her fingers. The very test paper.
"Hm…" the teacher trailed her words, tapping the papers against the table.
Meanwhile, Mary was nervous; her guts tensed as the tapping sound lasted.
Then, finally, the teacher smiled. "Well, I can surely see improvement in her grades."
Mary let out a quiet sigh of relief, the stiffness in her shoulders softening—only for the teacher to slam the paper down dramatically.
"But!" she declared, her voice jolted Mary back upright.
Mary froze, her eyes widening.
"There's still a lot of room for improvement," the teacher sighed, sliding the test across the desk so Mary could see.
Her gaze locked on the score: 47 out of 100.
Once again, she failed the test...
"It wasn't good, but it was something," her teacher continued, "Considering last time, Urara barely got 36, well... with some pity point, of course. It was at least proof of progress."
"So—" Mary gulped, "my grade... Is it going to be deducted?"
"Deducted?" the teacher repeated, tilting her head in confusion. For a moment, she seemed lost in thought. Then, with a snap of realization, she struck her fist into her open palm.
"Oh~! That!" she exclaimed.
Mary leaned forward nervously.
"It was a joke, Mary!" The teacher waved her hand casually. "Of course, we can't just deduct your marks out of the blue!"
Mary's eyes widened in shock. "What?!" she nearly shouted. "What do you mean by a joke?!"
"You know we're not allowed to tailor false grading just because a student doesn't meet a side assignment," the teacher replied with a chuckle. "Even if I wanted to, it would be unfair. Not to mention it'd probably cost me my job."
Mary stood frozen, her jaw slack, her mind reeling from the revelation. All this time—her late nights, her stress, her effort to deal with Urara—it was all under the lies.
"Welp, it's not something I expect you to know anyway—you're way too young," the teacher said with a grin, waving her hand as if brushing away Mary's frustration.
"Anyhow, thank you for your hard work, Mary! I hope you can continue to help Urara in the near future! Besides, I've noticed you two have gotten a lot closer than you used to, or with anyone else."
Upon hearing that, Mary's head lowered, her lips trembling. "So… all that nonsense about my marks being deducted was just a fluke to trick me…"
"As I said," the teacher replied cheerfully, pointing her finger up as if making an announcement, "it was an act of ice-breaking! Ever since you entered school, you've been waaaay too lonely. As a girl your age, you should act like one! I know training is important, but so is making friends!"
"BUT—!"
Mary opened her mouth to protest, but the teacher's words cut her off.
"You're still young, Mary. Besides, Urara isn't such a bad person! Oblivious? Yes. Naive? Definitely. But those things don't make her bad—they make her truthful, trustworthy even."
The teacher leaned back with her hands on her hips. "She might be blunt, she might act on impulse, but don't you see? She fits you perfectly. You're complete opposites, and that means you can cover for each other's weaknesses. You can grow from it! A perfect duo!"
Mary's hand curled into a trembling fist at her side. Her teeth clenched as she muttered under her breath, "But… I'm perfect the way I am. Friends are obstacles to my success…"
"You dummy!" the teacher huffed as she tapped Mary's forehead lightly with her palm.
"Friends are not obstacles! They're fuel for your success. We make friends because there's something in them we admire—something that inspires us to do better! Friends aren't just for laughs and chatter. They can also be rivals that push you further."
Mary's lips pressed thin, her eyes flickering between anger and confusion.
"Just think about it, okay?" the teacher said, her tone softening as she turned back to the desk, packing up her things. "I've seen girls like you rise, and I've seen girls like you fall. Loneliness is a dangerous poison. Too much of it clouds your judgment. Too little, and you lose yourself to overdependence. Moderation, Mary. Remember, moderation is the key to almost everything in life."
She rose from her chair, slinging her bag over her shoulder. At the doorway, she turned one last time.
"Help Urara, and help yourself too, Mary, okay? I hope you stayed it that way... Oh, and it would be a big help for me too! Hehe... Anyway, see ya, Mary!" With that, her teacher bid her farewell with a grin.
Meanwhile, Mary stayed frozen in place, her eyes lowered. Still conflicted by her teacher's words.
Then, suddenly, her teacher returned.
"Oh, by the way," the teacher added, "Please pass the news to Urara when you see her. Consider it goodwill."
Mary's head snapped up. "Wait! Isn't this your… job?!"
But by the time she spun toward the doorway, her teacher was gone. Vanished like smoke, as if she had been a ninja in disguise.
"…Tch." Mary sighed heavily, tightening the strap of her bag. With reluctant steps, she turned away from the empty classroom, heading toward the training ground.
Her mind spiralled, her teacher's words clashing violently against her father's.
One voice spoke of friendship as strength, the other of isolation as the path to perfection. Which one was true? Who was she supposed to listen to? Who was she supposed to believe?
The more she thought, the heavier the confusion pressed down on her head.
Then, just as she was beginning to sink deeper, a sudden voice snapped her out of it.
"How is Urara doing? Mary-chan!"
The exuberant tone, bright and loud as ever, startled Mary to her bones.
"Urara!" Mary yelped, spinning toward the bouncing pink figure.
"Don't do that ever again!" she snapped, her nerves rattled. Quickly, she pulled in a breath and forced her composure back. "What're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to go home?"
"Urara was nervous about her mark!" Urara confessed, wagging her tail as if her words weren't heavy at all. "She worried she would get Mary into trouble, so Urara thinks she should stay and check on Mary-chan!"
Mary sighed, trying her best not to match that overwhelming energy. "You did… better." She faltered, struggling to force out the compliment.
Her cheeks warmed as she quickly corrected herself. "You did improve, is what I said." She looked away, embarrassed at even saying that much.
But then, like a ghost, her teacher's words and her grin rose up in her head again:
"Friends are not obstacles! They are fuels for your success!"
Upon recalling that, Mary quickly dismissed the thought, thinking she could have ended it there—shut Urara out and claimed their task was done. That would've been the safest choice.
Yet… deep down, she didn't... want to...?
Something inside her whispered to continue. Telling her to resume the task, or perhaps, continue their relationship.
Her lips moved without sound, fumbling as her eyes kept finding their way back to Urara's radiant face. She wanted to say something—but was it right? Would her father approve? Would it all amount to anything?
Suddenly—
For the first time, she asked herself: Wait...Did it really matter what Father said?
Her gaze flickered back and forth between the pink girl and the floor, her mind circling nonsense reasons to justify this one selfish wish.
Maybe—just maybe—she deserved to have something of her own. Maybe this could be her excuse for a break. And besides… tutoring Urara did help her studies, didn't it? Perhaps it wasn't so wrong to enjoy it.
She should've been allowed—No, it should be allowed!
Finally, she sighed, swallowed her pride, and spoke.
"But there's still a long way to go from your grade," Mary said, her cheeks flushing, though her tone remained stern. "I… I…" she stuttered, gripping her sleeve tightly. "I think we'd better keep our session going…"
"It's a deal then!" Urara's response came with sheer speed, her tail thrashing happily behind her. "After all, I love to spend time with Mary-chan, too!"
Before Mary could react, Urara's eyes lit up with another idea. "How about next week! Urara and Mary-chan hang out for once! A time to celebrate her improvement!"
"What—"
Mary was stumped, blinked, and hesitated. Hang out? It was a word she had never encountered before, or in the sense that she had never experienced.
The word itself was so foreign yet enticing.
She wanted to decline, but her desire spoke otherwise.
She was afraid of the consequences if her father knew, yet she craved it.
Then, her mind fumbled, her reasons clashed with her desire for the first time.
Trying to find the rightful deduction, only to excuse the idea that if my father never found out, it would be fine, right?
After a moment of silence, while Urara was anticipating her answer, bouncing with excitement, Mary's lips eventually parted. "I… I guess… It's not a bad idea."
Urara's eye immediately lit up, as she celebrated with a declaration, "It's a promise then!"
Mary's chest fluttered. For the first time in her life, she felt something strange—something so foreign, something she could only describe as pleasure, maybe even eagerness.
Not once did she ever feel that, not even the track had ever given her that feeling.
After all, running had always been a chore, a job, something to endure. This, though… this was different.
This was something not out of obligation but rather... desire?
A desire...?
Suddenly—
Urara gasped, spotting the clock on the corridor wall. "OH! I need to go! Mom is going to get angry if I'm late!" she cried, clumsily waving as she rushed off. "Remember our promise, Mary-chan! See you this Saturday! Bye-bye!"
Meanwhile, Mary stood still, frozen as the pink blur vanished into the golden edges of the sunset.
Her eyes lingered on Urara's fading silhouette.
And then, without even realizing it, she faintly smiled, which she corrected upon discovering.
Then, with a glimpse at the sunset... she muttered to herself,
"Maybe… It's not such a bad thing to have a friend, after all."