Then, the next day arrived.
During recess, Rush walked alone down the corridor.
Urara was being endlessly tugged around by Lidden again, leaving Rush a narrow window of opportunity.
One thought circled her mind.
Resign.
Withdraw.
Her fist tightened as her steps tapped across the corridor.
If she withdrew… Urara would have more space.
More spotlight. More chance.
Her thoughts conflicted, yet she kept moving.
Slow and surely, she arrived.
She stood before the committee room, the doorway.
Her heart thumped harder than it did on the track. She was nervous and beginning to hesitate about her decision.
Was she really going to give this up? Everything?
But her hand slowly reached toward the latch—
But before she did...
*Bang!*
The door burst open.
A figure stormed out, sighing loudly.
"I only said I wanted to participate. Not that I would!" she snapped toward someone inside. "Tch… what a waste of my time."
"And shut it before you regret it!" she added sharply.
Then, as she turned her face, she noticed Rush.
Their eyes met.
The girl then narrowed her gaze.
"What do you want?"
Rush startled.
"I… I…"
The aura before her was overwhelming. She was genuinely menacing.
"I just wanted to—"
"Spit it out," the girl cut in. "I don't have all day."
She paused, then muttered, "Well… not that I actually have anything better to do… but I'd like to do something at least."
She crossed her arms.
"So? I don't care who you are. If you've got something to say, say it."
"I…" Rush parted her lips again—
But the girl cut in.
"Wait, are you having trouble with race decisions? If that's so, you can tell me about it..." she added. "Well... Not that I care. I don't really care about anyone else. Even my family. But as a committee member, it's my job to settle unresolved matters. So speak."
That tone.
That careless bluntness. Rush's memory sparked.
It was from the same stall, the same voice.
It was her. The girl who talked to her when she was crying in the stall.
She was thrilled to finally meet her and wanted to call her out.
But before she did... she paused.
If she were admitting it, that would mean admitting she had been sobbing in public, too. And it will be embarrassing to be called out for.
With a quick decision, she decided to keep it to herself. Trying to play it off.
She then straightened awkwardly.
"Oh, no... There's no problem at all... It's just that I'm here to… withdraw my decision from the race. I have been second-guessing my decision recently. You know...? The stress from the school was quite a lot..." she said in an oddly confident voice.
"Wait…" the girl narrowed her eyes. "Do I know you? Your voice sounds familiar."
"No—no! Of course not!" Rush flailed her hands. "You must be mistaking me for someone else!"
The girl stared.
Silent.
Then her eyes widened.
"You're that crybaby in the stall."
"No!!! I'm not!" Rush shot back. "I—I just wasn't myself that day!"
"So it is you," the girl concluded.
Rush stuttered, "I—I... n— no... I—I..." She then deflated, admitting,
"…Fine. Yes. I'm her."
"Oh, hi! How are you doing? Well... Not that I care..." the girl responded casually.
"I—I'm fine... thank you for asking. And please focus...! As I mentioned, I'm only here to withdraw from the upcoming school race, and I won't be taking more of your time."
"Oh?" The girl crossed her arms. "Withdraw?"
"Yes...!" Rush nodded, "Please be fast about it!"
"I see..." the girl uttered.
Then, with a smirk, she leaned back slightly toward the committee room.
"Let me guess, is it because of its MESSY ORGANIZING?" she emphasized loudly.
"Oi! Screw you, Easy Crown!" someone shouted from inside the room.
"Anyway…" Easy Crown turned back to Rush, shrugging. "We don't just let someone withdraw from the race without a valid reason. Especially after passing the registration date. It'll ruin the whole bracket schedule for everyone."
She shrugged. "If you don't want to partake, you can always just dive. It could save our arse from troubles too."
"I… I see…" Rush lowered her head.
Easy Crown sighed. "I don't know what's pushing you to decide that, but I highly discourage it. Not that I care."
She clicked her tongue. "You should know that it's a blessing to even stand on that stage, that track. Well... not that I'd expect a crybaby as you would understand it."
"Hey, that's rude!" Rush shot back. "And I'm not a crybaby!"
"Besides," Easy Crown continued, crossing her arms, "how's your time with that pink lightbulb? Still haven't changed your mind?"
"Pink… lightbulb?" Rush blinked—then realized. Urara.
"Well… not really," she muttered. "I'm here actually because her... Well... that... I matched against her…"
"Whoa, how troubling... " Easy Crown deadpanned. "So? That's a problem?"
"Of course it is!" Rush snapped. "We're friends! We're supposed to help each other grow, not trample each other's dreams!"
"And?" Easy Crown lifted a brow. "What's the problem?"
"It would be cruel!" Rush clenched her fists. "I don't want to race against her. I don't want to be the one shatter her dream. I don't want to lose what we built. I don't want to lose her."
Easy Crown stared.
Then she burst out laughing.
"So your friendship is so fragile..." she scoffed. "...that you're telling me that you need to sacrifice your own goal just to preserve it? That's utterly ridiculous!"
"Bu— but! That's what I learned from someone who actually did it—" Rush's voice faltered.
The figure sighed again. "And how did that work out for everyone involved? Did it actually help anyone? Did anyone truly benefit?"
"I— I— I don't know…" Rush clutched her arm, fingers tightening as doubt crept in.
"There's the answer for you, crybaby... unless you can prove your point," Easy Crown continued. "If sacrificing one dream for others was truly the right path to their success, then everyone should've just conceded themselves. Urara should've conceded for you, too. What a load of crap."
Upon hearing that, Rush lowered her head.
Crown narrowed her eyes, sighing, "Until then, put your whole heart into the race. Not that half-arsed 'Oh no, I can't' nonsense."
"You are not a nobody, and no one ever is. And you're only becoming it unless you decide it yourself," she added.
"You might think you're doing this only for yourself—but the truth is, you're doing it for both of you. People don't grow the most by competing with strangers. They grow by striving alongside those they share a bond with. It's because of that connection that you feel motivated, inspired, and pushed to try harder. So, by the end of the story, there will be no one left behind but that scum—you believed you are."
"So stop downplaying yourself, grow a backbone, and run with her instead! And stop trying to act like a hero she doesn't need! Be yourself, like I asked you to! Ask yourself, 'Who am I?' Remember?" Easy Crown added, pointing at her head.
Rush froze.
"Anyway... I wasted enough time to lecture your sorry arse. And I don't even know why I did it in the first place," Easy Crown sighed, jerking her chin past Rush's shoulder, "One of your friends is here looking for you."
Rush turned.
It wasn't Urara. It wasn't Lidden.
It was Young, waving at her.
"If that's all you wanted to say, crybaby. I bid you good luck. And..." Easy Crown then took a step back, "I don't want to see your sorry face again," she said, and slammed the door shut.
Rush flinched, stunned by the shutting door.
But as she was about to turn, a second later, the door opened again. Easy Crown stepped out, closed it more carefully this time, then muttered, "Don't you dare ask why," before walking off down the corridor.
Rush blinked in confusion as she watched Easy Crown disappear down into the corridor.
As Easy Crown went far enough, Rush then turned fully toward Young.
"Young?" she asked softly. "What're you doing here?"