Chapter 97: Sophomores' Sports Festival Opens / Shimizu Akira Is First! / Suzune and Mio
The October wind blew quietly through the gaps in the ginkgo leaves, rustling with a fine, dry sound. It wasn't like spring, which urged people to run outside, nor was it like summer, which sticky-sweetly trapped people's hands and feet.
In this kind of weather, one should ideally be lazily staying in the dormitory or sitting in the library reading a book. However, today happened to be the day the second Sports Festival began. All senseis and students could only gather on the sports field.
Just like last year, according to custom, Chairman Sakayanagi began his address.
"Everyone, I am Sakayanagi Narumori, who has just been reinstated to my original post. The second and third-year students may not be too unfamiliar with me, but for the newly enrolled first-years, it is only recently that you have seen my face for the first time.
Back to the main topic. Compared to last year, this Sports Festival has undergone a few slight changes. It will not cause any students to be expelled, so I hope everyone can display their original strength. If you feel it is a bit difficult, withdrawing from the competition directly is also fine. A temporary medical station has already been equipped on the side; if you feel physically unwell, please go there in a timely manner.
In addition, as a warm-up opening for this Sports Festival, a one-kilometer running event that the homeroom senseis of each class must participate in has been added. The scores obtained will similarly be calculated into the total scores of each class. I hope the students will actively cheer for their own homeroom senseis.
Alright, the above is my speech. I wish everyone good results!"
"Clap~ clap~ clap~..." All the senseis and students clapped to thank the Chairman who had finished his speech. Afterward, they began to line up and enter the field in order of grade and class.
Shimizu Akira scanned the surrounding sports field a couple of times. The configuration was not much different from last year, with cameras used for monitoring results, tents for resting, and the temporary medical station Chairman Sakayanagi had mentioned just now.
After about five minutes, Chabashira-sensei brought Sophomore Class A near the eastern resting area and pointed at the sign:
"It says Sophomore Class A here; this vicinity is where we rest. After you all finish participating in your events, don't forget that you have an obligation to go to the designated area to cheer for the class. If you are caught chatting, resting, or slacking off in unrelated places, not only will you be stripped of your qualification to compete, but even your original scores will be confiscated.
"o emphasize once more, each person can participate in a maximum of three team competitions and a maximum of ten events. When signing up, the school staff will confirm everyone's competition data, so do not harbor the thought of slipping through.
Finaly, just as the Chairman said, once any abnormality appears in your body, do not push yourself. Go directly to the nearby temporary medical station. If it is inconvenient to move, raise your hand directly, and the nearby school staff will also cooperate to send you over. The body comes first; you must remember this point."
Chabashira herself emphasized in a very serious and stern tone. Roughly a month had passed since Chabashira changed, and the students in the class had gradually grown accustomed to this side of her, so they responded one after another.
"Understood, Chabashira-sensei."
"Rest assured, if my body feels uncomfortable, I will forfeit."
"However, one has to participate in at least five events, ah; only that way is it not a loss."
After hearing everyone's answers, Chabashira then went to a small tent nearby. Two or three minutes later, she changed into a sportswear set and walked in front of everyone. In another ten minutes, the senseis' first competition was about to begin.
"Sensei, do your best!"
"Chabashira-sensei, do your best!"
"You must get a front ranking, ah!"
Chabashira Sae unconsciously revealed a smile. Being trusted and supported by the students in the class felt quite good. However, her gaze still scanned toward Shimizu Akira's side two or three times, intentionally or unintentionally; if she could get the support of the person she liked, it would be even better.
Shimizu Akira twitched the corner of his mouth and decided to pretend he didn't see it.
'The other party was an adult sensei after all, how could he encourage her every day, what kind of propriety was that!'
Who would have thought that Kushida Kikyo, who was staying by his side, tugged at his sleeve: "Alright, just encourage her a little bit. Chabashira-sensei helped me make the Cultural Festival plan this month, and quite a few forms for my role as Vice President were also completed with her helping me."
She had actually helped his family's Kikyo this much? Since it was Kikyo who spoke up, Shimizu Akira had no choice but to say: "Chabashira-sensei, I know you want to contribute a piece of strength for the class. But your opponents are eleven people after all, so just like what you said to us, if your body feels any discomfort anywhere, there is no need to push yourself, just forfeit directly."
Of the other eleven homeroom senseis, Shimizu Akira only knew four people: Hoshinomiya Chie, Sakagami Kazuma, Mashima Tomonari, and Shiba Katsunori. Of the first two, one was an alcoholic and the other was a gambler, not worth worrying about. But Mashima Tomonari and Shiba Katsunori were upright individuals who had fitness habits, especially the latter; as a White Room instructor, Chabashira didn't have a shred of possibility of winning.
Although it sounded a bit like polite formulas, Chabashira Sae still revealed a satisfied smile: "Shimizu-kun, rest assured, just like you, I also have a running habit. I will definitely take the first victory for the class as much as possible."
When the scheduled time arrived, Chabashira Sae followed the other eleven homeroom senseis to the sports field. She was the homeroom sensei of Sophomore Class A, standing in the position of the second row.
Coincidentally, Hoshinomiya Chie was right on the side. Different from Chabashira Sae who was full of energy and radiant, Hoshinomiya Chie had a pale face and was listless.
How could Chabashira not know that the other party must have run off to drink alcohol again yesterday. It was no lie that she and Hoshinomiya had grievances, but they were still friends of over ten years after all, "Chie, your body doesn't look too good, why don't you just forfeit directly?"
Hearing these words, although Hoshinomiya Chie's face was pale, she still said with a smile: "Is Sae-chan deliberately reducing competitors? Unfortunately, even if my physical state is not right, I will forcibly finish running. No need for you to worry."
'This person did not have a habit of exercising and stayed up late drinking; over these many years, her body had long since collapsed. Forcibly running would only ruin herself.'
Since advising her was not listened to, Chabashira Sae was too lazy to say anything more either.
A minute later, the school staff came to the side: "Alright, all homeroom senseis get ready! Run!"
The moment the starting gun sounded, the twelve homeroom senseis rushed out of the starting line simultaneously. Chabashira Sae was pulled into the back half in an instant. Rushing at the very front were a few young male senseis; she herself was ranked sixth. As expected, Hoshinomiya Chie fell to the end of the queue.
Four hundred meters. The team began to stretch out. Chabashira Sae's position rose from sixth to fifth.
Hoshinomiya Chie became the dead last, pulled away by nearly thirty meters. The expression on her face changed from strained to painful. Ultimately, she stared at Chabashira in front for a long time, her face full of resentment and indignation, but she could only be forced to raise her hand slightly, forfeiting directly.
The last fifty meters. Chabashira Sae began to sprint at a very fast speed, slowly overtaking the two people in front.
Shiba Katsunori was the first to hit the line. Mashima Tomonari was the second. Chabashira Sae hit the line third.
Mashima Tomonari was clearly somewhat surprised: "Did you explode your small universe? You could even run to third place?"
Chabashira wiped the sweat from her forehead: "I just didn't want to disappoint the person I trust."
'During the process of running, her mind inexplicably thought of Shimizu Akira, and wouldn't strength just come from that.'
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What Chabashira Sae participated in was considered a team event; third place strove for five points for the entire class, opening a very good start for everyone.
Ten minutes later, the students' official competitions officially began. Because multiple events were being carried out at the same time, the arrangement was slightly complicated, but the competition location and time had already been written clearly when booking. Plus, five minutes before the competition started, the school would also notify the competing students through the broadcast, so everyone was not that panicked instead.
The events Shimizu Akira signed up for were the four-hundred-meter race, long jump, obstacle race, two-person three-legged race, and football respectively. Football and the three-legged race were the afternoon events; the other three items were carried out in the morning.
He spoke a few words with his several girlfriends, encouraging them slightly. After all, the surroundings were all classmates, so he didn't dare to do any intimate actions either. Subsequently, he rushed to the scene of the four-hundred-meter race.
Koenji Rokusuke and Nagumo Miyabi arrived one after another.
Nagumo Miyabi looked at Shimizu Akira who was calm and collected on the side, and then cast a glance at Koenji Rokusuke who was self-indulgently fiddling with his hair, his eyes instantly turning red. Of these two people, one poached away his childhood sweetheart, and the other made him indirectly lose tens of millions on the uninhabited island; he could be said to hate them to the bone.
However, at this moment, Koenji Rokusuke suddenly said a sentence: "Nagumo Boy, after winning against you, you shouldn't break your word and not give that fifty thousand, right?"
This bastard still dared to question his credit? Nagumo Miyabi gnashed his teeth and said: "Please rest assured, Koenji-kouhai. As the Student Council President, I, Nagumo Miyabi, naturally keep my word. As long as you surpass me, there is no need to wait until the Sports Festival ends, I will immediately take out my phone and transfer fifty thousand to you."
Shimizu Akira also couldn't resist raising his hand: "Wait a moment! Nagumo Miyabi, how is this matter of winning against you defined? Is it that one must get first place, or do all people who surpass you count as winning against you?"
The difference between these two was very large; inside and out, it could differ by several million points. Nagumo Miyabi said with an ugly expression: "Naturally, all those who surpass me count."
'All count? That's pretty good. At least Shimizu Akira and Koenji Rokusuke didn't have to go dispute that sole first place.'
The notification for check-in came from the broadcast, and the athletes participating in the four-hundred-meter run began to walk toward the starting line one after another.
Shimizu Akira stood on the fourth lane, moving his wrists and ankles. He cast a glance to his left and right; Koenji Rokusuke was on the third lane, unhurriedly arranging his cuffs. Nagumo Miyabi was on the fifth lane, having already assumed the starting posture, his gaze deathly staring at the track ahead, his face written all over with being determined to win.
The competitors in the other several lanes were mostly third-year and second-year students; Shimizu Akira didn't know many, but looking from their expressions and muscle lines, they should all be the main forces of the sprint events of each class.
"On your marks!" The referee raised the starting gun.
Shimizu Akira squatted down, his fingers supporting behind the starting line, the soles of his feet tightly pressing against the starting blocks.
"Get set!" The moment the gun sounded, eight figures shot out.
Shimizu Akira's starting reaction was not considered the fastest, but his acceleration was extremely violent. The first few steps were still adapting to the rhythm; starting from the fifth step, the speed fiercely picked up, pushed forward by an invisible force.
When running past the curve, he rose from fifth place to third place. Koenji was in a position about one meter ahead of him, running unhurriedly, but his speed was not slow at all. Nagumo Miyabi was temporarily leading; his starting reaction was the fastest, and his acceleration in the first thirty meters was also flawless.
Two hundred meters. The team began to differentiate. The two people running at the very back could already clearly not keep up, the gap pulling wider and wider.
The competition for the top three was very fierce; between the three people—Nagumo Miyabi, Koenji, and Shimizu Akira—there was almost no distance, like three arrows off the string, flying swiftly on the red track.
Shimizu Akira noticed that Nagumo Miyabi's breathing had already begun to quicken.
'Failing after only running two hundred meters?'
Koenji's breathing was still stable, like doing morning exercises. And Shimizu Akira's rhythm was also far from reaching the limit. The three people seemingly advanced shoulder to shoulder, but secretly, the gap in physical capacity was revealing itself bit by bit.
Three hundred meters. Nagumo Miyabi picked up his speed. His stride frequency suddenly quickened, and his arm swing amplitude also became larger, pulling open a distance of about two meters all at once.
Koenji did not chase, still maintaining his original speed. Shimizu Akira did not chase either. The two people seemed as if they had discussed it, following behind Nagumo Miyabi neither far nor close. Allowing the wind to blow past their ears, allowing the surrounding cheers to rise one after another.
The last one hundred meters. Nagumo Miyabi's speed began to decline. This was not a problem of willpower; it was that his consumption in the front two hundred meters was too large. His stride frequency was still there, but his stride length clearly shortened. His whole person seemed as if he were stepping in place; clearly his legs were striving hard to take steps, yet the speed of advancing was becoming slower.
Koenji picked up his speed. His pickup of speed was not violent like Shimizu Akira's, but a kind of gradual acceleration that moistened things silently. He overtook Nagumo Miyabi.
The corner of Nagumo Miyabi's eye captured that golden figure sweeping past his side, his pupils fiercely shrinking. He wanted to follow up, but the limit of his body had already arrived; his legs were heavy as if poured with lead, unable to take larger steps at all.
Shimizu Akira also picked up his speed. His acceleration was not gentle like Koenji's, but an explosion of an instant. Like being bumped from behind by a car, his whole person fiercely rushed out.
The wind howled in his ears. Nagumo Miyabi was retreating. Koenji was in front. The finish line was approaching.
Fifty meters. Shimizu Akira and Koenji ran neck and neck. Neither of the two people looked at the other, their gazes both locked on that white finish line ahead.
Thirty meters. Shimizu Akira slightly exceeded by half a body length. His stride length was larger than Koenji's, each step striving for a bit of negligible lead compared to the opponent.
Ten meters. Five meters. One meter. Shimizu Akira was the first to hit the line.
Koenji followed closely behind, differing by less than 0.2 seconds. Nagumo Miyabi crossed the finish line third, pulled away by a distance of nearly five meters.
After Shimizu Akira rushed past the finish line, he ran a few more steps before stopping. Making a slight adjustment, he then restored steady breathing. Koenji stopped beside him, also only lightly panting a few breaths. He turned his head to look at Shimizu Akira, rarely revealing an astonished expression: "I unexpectedly lost?"
Shimizu Akira straightened his body, "Just good luck."
Koenji stared tightly at him for a while; this time he turned out to say nothing, walking away directly.
Next up were the long jump and the obstacle race. The result was still Shimizu Akira narrowly winning against Koenji. As for Nagumo Miyabi, although he was unmovably ranked third—which looked okay looking solely at the ranking—in reality, he had long since been thrown who knows where by the two of them.
Koenji panted slightly a few times and asked: "Shimizu Boy, you won again?"
Shimizu Akira was still that modest tone: "Good luck, good luck."
"Once can be said to be good luck; the second time and third time are not." Koenji looked at him, "Quite clearly, my physical fitness is just inferior to yours. Interesting, truly interesting. This Advanced Nurturing High School is too much more interesting than I thought; no wonder father let me come over to go to school. Hahahahaha!"
Shimizu Akira originally thought Koenji's self-indulgent character was going to say something again, but the result was that after he finished saying this sentence, he stood there on the spot and laughed loudly.
'Gone mad?'
Shimizu Akira shook his head, choosing to ignore him directly, and turned his head to come in front of Nagumo Miyabi.
"Alright, Nagumo Miyabi, give the money." He took out his phone as a matter of course, beginning to ask for money.
Nagumo Miyabi's face looked as if a layer of mortar had been splashed on it. Three times. The four-hundred-meter, long jump, and obstacle race; three times were all third place, and three times he was pressed deathly tight by these two people.
If it were said that for the first match he still harbored the fluke that maybe it was just a bad state, then by the third match, he had already completely recognized a fact—it was not a problem of state, it was a problem of strength.
"500,000 for one match, 1.5 million for three matches, transfer it over quickly."
This sum of money Nagumo Miyabi could naturally afford, but that feeling of having one's head pressed while taking out money was more intolerable than losing the competition itself. The surrounding competitors and staff had already noticed the movement over here, their gazes drifting over in twos and threes.
He gnashed his teeth and took out his phone, "...Transferred to you."
Shimizu Akira cast a glance down at the arrival notification. After confirming the number was not wrong, he nodded his head with satisfaction, putting his phone into his pocket. "Good, President Nagumo indeed keeps his word. In the afternoon, I am still waiting for you, ha."
This sentence sounded like praise, but paired with Shimizu Akira's smiling face, no matter how one heard it, it sounded like rubbing it in. Nagumo Miyabi's face became even uglier, his lips pursed into a line.
'Endure it, endure it, ah. It was also justifiable that he himself couldn't win against these two anomalies. As long as the afternoon football retrieved his court, that was fine; that was precisely his proud project. Wait and see for me.'
"President Nagumo's expression looks like he ate something unclean." Koenji didn't know when he had finished laughing, standing beside Shimizu Akira, looking at Nagumo Miyabi's receding figure.
"You haven't looked for him to get the money yet?"
"No rush, no rush." Koenji flicked his hair, "Let him digest the taste of defeat first, then I'll go collect the debt. That way has a bit more of a sense of ritual."
'This person's understanding of a sense of ritual was probably not quite the same as normal people.'
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Ibuki Mio and Horikita Suzune next door naturally also noticed the situation of the two men over there. Rather than saying it was just them, because of that challenge letter of Nagumo Miyabi, quite a few people were paying attention to his match schedule.
The result was self-evident: Shimizu Akira gained a complete victory, even openly pressing down Koenji Rokusuke by a head.
"That fellow Nagumo Miyabi truly is stupid; isn't this clearly sending money to that fellow?" Ibuki Mio gave a cold snort.
Horikita Suzune scanned her once: "Perhaps he holds the same thought as you."
"? Horikita, what are you saying? Where am I the same as him?" Ibuki Mio naturally didn't understand.
Horikita Suzune was rarely somewhat speechless. She almost forgot that according to Ibuki's IQ, she couldn't hear the undertone of her words, so she had no choice but to explain: "My meaning is, you are also just like him, belonging to that kind of person who has no real grasp of their own strength, yet rushes over to challenge me."
After finishing saying this sentence, Horikita Suzune stood confidently on the competition field, quite having a sort of aura of 'I will win', having a sort of feeling of dreaming back to the school opening stage in a trance.
'Anyway, since Shimizu Akira and her older brother were both not by her side, what was wrong with her boasting for the first time in a long time?'
Ibuki Mio revealed a look of disgust, practically writing the word 'hate' on her face: "You, this woman, truly are narcissistic, ah! Who told you that you can definitely win?"
"Very simple, just looking at the data reveals it. My physical capacity data is B+, yours is B. I have a '+' more than you, does that not count?"
"Heh, the so-called physical capacity data was also just measured at the time of school entry and the first year, right? The current me is already no longer the previous me."
How did this sentence sound a bit familiar? Only then did Horikita Suzune recall, wasn't this the words she herself had once said previously?
How come hearing it from someone else's mouth made it become this chuunibyou?
Wait a moment, back then, how did her family's boyfriend speak of her? No, he didn't say anything at all, he was just laughing.
Horikita Suzune also felt a bit like laughing: "Pfft!"
Ibuki Mio was so angry she stomped her feet straight on the spot: "What is a woman like you laughing at! Don't go dropping little pearls when you lose when the time comes."
Horikita Suzune slowly restrained her smile: "You too, don't cry."
Soon, it was the turn for the first event of the two, the one-hundred-meter race. Horikita Suzune won against Ibuki Mio with a slight advantage of approximately 0.5 seconds.
"Damn it! Bastard! Had I known earlier, I wouldn't have run so hard when starting to run at the beginning." Ibuki Mio's face was full of resentment and indignation.
Horikita Suzune maintained a slightly tsundere expression, giving her a white eye: "Only knowing how to find excuses, can you afford to play or not? Student Ibuki."
The second event was the high jump. In the end, Ibuki Mio won against Horikita Suzune by an advantage of two centimeters.
"Great! Hahaha! I knew that I just didn't perform well just now; winning against you is still a very simple matter!" Ibuki Mio assumed a victory posture, jumping and bouncing as she spoke.
Horikita Suzune pursed her mouth and gave a snort: "As expected, it's because of the sports shoes reason. The sole of that pair of shoes of yours seems to be a few centimeters higher than mine, right?"
Ibuki Mio revealed a winner's smile: "Alright, don't find excuses, can you afford to play or not? This Student Horikita."
'This woman unexpectedly used her words back to refute her.'
Finally, it was the jump rope of the deciding match. Horikita Suzune embraced 120% determination this time, preparing to treat this project seriously.
The moment the starting whistle sounded, Horikita Suzune's wrists turned simultaneously. Ibuki Mio also started on the other side. Her movements were more powerful than Horikita Suzune's, the rope whipped with a roaring wind, and her speed was also slightly faster. But her rhythm was not stable enough; every dozen or so jumps, there would be a slight pause.
Time passed minute by minute. Neither of the two people broke. Thirty seconds. One minute. One and a half minutes.
Two minutes. Ibuki Mio's rhythm began to get messy. Horikita Suzune did not go look at her. She could feel Ibuki Mio's state using her peripheral vision; there was no need to turn her head.
Two and a half minutes. Ibuki Mio broke. The rope hit her calf, emitting a crisp "snap". She stumbled for a moment, stabilized her body, and flew swiftly to jump again. But her rhythm was already completely disrupted; in the next dozen or so seconds, she broke twice continuously again, each time making her face add a point of anxiety.
Horikita Suzune was still steadily jumping. Three minutes. The whistle sounded. Horikita Suzune stopped, her wrist giving a shake, and the rope obediently rolled back into her hand.
As if knowing she lost, Ibuki Mio threw the jump rope onto the ground all at once. The referee raised his hand, reporting the results.
"Horikita Suzune, three hundred and eighty-seven, first place. Ibuki Mio, three hundred and twelve, second place."
"The gap is this large." Ibuki Mio said unwillingly, a certain inexplicable complex emotion also revealing itself on her face.
"What is that expression of yours." Horikita Suzune used a towel to wipe the sweat on her neck.
Ibuki Mio bit her lip: "Don't mind me. Let me ask you, when did you practice jumping rope?"
"Every day."
"Every day?"
"Every day after school, ten minutes." Horikita Suzune draped the towel on her shoulder, looking at her, "When you were practicing sprinting and practicing high jump, I was practicing jumping rope. Your single-item explosive power is stronger than mine, but your endurance is inferior to mine. Jumping rope competes in endurance, not explosive power. From the very beginning, this was my advantageous project."
Ibuki Mio stared at Horikita Suzune for a good few seconds, as if recognizing this person for the first time. Then she took a deep breath, swallowing back that sentence 'do it one more time' that surged to her throat. Losing was losing; competing one more time would also not change this fact.
"You won."
Horikita Suzune rarely smiled with pride. In fact, Horikita Suzune very rarely displayed this kind of expression in front of others normally. Counting them all up, aside from her own older brother and her own boyfriend, it was only in front of Ibuki Mio that she would be like this.
However, watching the other party's defeated appearance, she was rarely not as happy as imagined. How to say it—although neither of the two people spoke it out of their mouths, in reality, they had both already treated the other as a friend.
Suzune inexplicably was a bit unable to stand her sad appearance, so she had no choice but to say: "The deciding project was handed over by you for me to determine, and I deliberately chose jumping rope. Reasonably speaking, it should be random, or both sides choose together, so this time doesn't count."
Ibuki Mio's eyes, which always carried a few points of sharpness, widened slightly.
"...Say it one more time? I didn't hear clearly."
"I said this time doesn't count. Jumping rope is a project I am skilled in; my choosing it was inherently winning by unfair means. To decide victory or defeat, one should choose a project that neither person has practiced."
Ibuki Mio stared at her profile for a good few seconds, and then gave a scoff, laughing out loud.
"Horikita, you truly are not frank."
"Who is not frank?"
"You." Ibuki Mio crossed her arms over her chest, "Clearly winning is winning, yet you insist on finding excuses to say something about winning by unfair means. What, afraid that after I lose, I won't pay attention to you?"
Horikita Suzune pursed her mouth: "Who needs you? I have Akira-kun and that's enough, he will always accompany me."
"Tsk tsk, not necessarily, ah. A boyfriend and a friend are two completely different matters. Furthermore, he currently has ten girlfriends; I don't believe you don't have times when you are lonely." Ibuki Mio smiled with a huff, "Fine, as long as you beg me, then it's also not impossible for me to bestow great mercy and accompany you to go shopping on the weekend."
"Who cares." Horikita Suzune was too lazy to pay attention to her, turning her head and walking away directly.
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