The final all-participation event was the 200-meter dash.
The rules were simple—just run 200 meters to the finish.
The last competition of the morning purely tested raw running ability.
I waited in the standby area, letting time pass.
My heat was the third. There wasn't much waiting, but the field adjustments were dragging things out.
"Kuku, looks like there was some trouble in Class D."
Ryūen-kun tossed the topic my way.
His heat was the second—pretty early in the order.
On top of that, the races pairing him against Class D students were rigged against those with weaker athletic ability than him.
His own skills were above average, so he didn't need that kind of insurance, but I figured he just wanted an easy ride.
"Is that so?"
"Aren't you going to guess what happened?"
"No need. No matter how capable Horikita-san is, she couldn't prepare countermeasures before the sports festival started, so I'm not particularly interested."
Even if her ambitions were grand, with her leg injured, she was nothing more than dead weight here.
No matter how much she rallied the class, that was within my predictions—I already knew she could manage that much by now.
That's why I'd hoped to see her push past her limits in the events or block our moves in advance.
Even if there was a reason she didn't, the present was boring, so I couldn't muster any real expectations.
"You're cold. Not even worth killing time."
He spat the words and walked off.
I followed his back with my eyes—he was heading toward Hirata-kun from Class D.
Sudō-kun and Ayanokōji-kun were nearby too. With nothing better to do, I eavesdropped.
"What's this, Sudō? After that pathetic showing, you're still going through with the sports festival?"
"Hah, say whatever you want. Not everything's over yet. The one who wins in the end is the winner."
"Lame. Then I'll make you grovel as many times as I please. And not just you."
Not just you. They'd know who he meant even without saying it.
Horikita-san. By hinting instead of naming her, he was provoking them, throwing off their focus.
"…That bastard. Pulling dirty tricks on Suzune over and over."
"Hey, hey, nobody said any names. But yeah, Suzune's pretty unlucky. Keeps running into Yajima and Kinoshita.
And then crashing into our Kinoshita and injuring her—what a guy."
"You bastard!"
Hirata-kun stopped Sudō-kun as blood rushed to his head.
"I know exactly what you're thinking."
"No idea what you're talking about."
Ryūen-kun snorted and kept pushing. But Hirata-kun stayed calm and continued.
"I know you got hold of Class D's participation list and have detailed data on everyone's physical abilities.
That's why you're needling Sudō-kun, a core member, to get him expelled, and sabotaging Horikita-san."
"Don't spout nonsense, Hirata. Even a monkey could figure that out from what's happened so far. Saying it all proud doesn't make it my plan."
Ryūen-kun sneered. Yet Hirata-kun answered with a gentle smile.
"But you're failing, aren't you? From what I can see, you meant to take Sudō-kun out during the cavalry battle, right?"
"…Huh?"
Irritation flashed across Ryūen-kun's face at the unexpected counter from Hirata-kun.
Nice comeback.
"Don't assume everything will go your way. We'll fight back too."
Just as Hirata-kun finished, the second heat was called.
"I thought you were just a goody-two-shoes, but you've got some bite."
"Ahaha, guess you shouldn't judge by appearances."
Ryūen-kun turned his back and headed to the edge of the field.
Sudō-kun, who'd been smirking the whole time, finally burst out laughing once Ryūen-kun was gone.
Sudō-kun's mental state was remarkably solid—despite all the taunting and even tasting defeat.
Curious, I approached them.
"Hirata-kun, how's the class holding up?"
"We've pulled together. Thanks to your advice."
His own mindset was impressively steady. His calm presence gave off the sense that he could handle anything coolly.
"I heard there was trouble in Class D?"
"Yeah. But it ended up uniting us."
He wasn't lying. A guy who genuinely cares about the class wouldn't be this stable unless it was true.
"Have you found a path to victory?"
"We're putting it into action starting now."
Hirata-kun smiled and glanced behind him.
There was Sudō-kun, quietly burning with determination, watching us.
"Get ready. I'll show you I'm not the same as before."
"You can't beat me."
"We'll see about that."
He slammed his fist into his palm, brimming with drive.
Not bad. That refusal to give up was absolutely necessary to defeat me.
"No, you can't win, Red-Haired Boy."
A blond giant appeared behind Sudō-kun—Rokusuke Kōenji.
An unexpected arrival. Being here meant he was actually competing.
Why the perpetual slacker suddenly decided to participate was unclear, but that detail was trivial.
"It's my role to defeat you. Let's enjoy the fight, Kamukura Boy."
"You can't beat me either."
"We'll see."
Kōenji-kun grinned boldly. Someone worthy of the "Ultimate" label could indeed challenge me.
A little anticipation was warranted.
But we were in different heats, so the real contest would come later.
"You bastard, Kōenji—I'm the one crushing this guy, so stay out of it!"
"I already said it. That's my role. Battling him will drive my further evolution."
"What a creepy thing to say."
As they bickered, the third heat was called.
I left the area briskly.
There was no reason to linger in an irritating spot.
Sudō-kun, in the same heat, followed me.
"Hey, why follow a guy like Ryūen? You're stronger than him."
"Because he's interesting."
"Interesting? That's the only reason?"
"That's the honest truth."
I learned that from a certain cheeky classmate long ago.
A reason that sounds convincing when spoken is, at that point, just sticky theoretical armor.
The real thing is simpler—and far more complex. Its name is emotion.
Understanding comes from their collision.
"You're weird. If you were a piece of shit like Ryūen, I could've crushed you without hesitation."
"I'm worse than him. No need for pointless restraint that holds back my full strength."
"…Heh, good to know. Then I'm relieved."
He laughed. His core hadn't changed, but his mentality had grown considerably.
That's why he felt like a completely different person from the one who'd aimed hostility at me in the 100-meter dash.
We took our crouching starts.
The starting gun soon rang out.
Just like the 100-meter, I hit top speed instantly and surged into first.
I maintained that pace the whole way.
"I'm not losing!"
Sudō-kun's voice rang out, spurring himself on.
But sheer willpower can't close a real ability gap.
The distance between us only widened.
My top speed was higher—meaning the footrace was mine.
The order never changed, and I crossed the finish line first.
"Damn it!!"
Sudō-kun took second, a moment later.
Breathing hard, he wiped sweat and steadied himself.
I shifted my gaze away from him to the next heat.
There was Rokusuke Kōenji.
"…Let's see what you've got."
Sudō-kun, now recovered, watched too.
The gun fired, and they started together.
One man quickly pulled ahead of the pack.
Rokusuke Kōenji, of course. He opened an overwhelming lead.
Sō Shibata-kun from Class B was in the same heat. Even Shibata-kun—who boasted straight-line speed beyond Sudō-kun—couldn't close the gap.
He could only chase desperately to keep it from growing.
Yet the distance still widened bit by bit.
"…Figures. He's just been holding back the whole time."
Sudō-kun muttered sourly, glaring resentfully.
If Kōenji had competed seriously from the start, the outcome would have been different. That truth was now painfully clear.
Kōenji finished first and walked over.
"Did you analyze it properly?"
"Above expectations, but within predictions."
"Hahaha, you do know how to talk."
He was certainly fast.
Reflex speed after the gun, acceleration, focus—everything was exceptional.
He could qualify as an Ultimate track athlete.
But that level couldn't touch me, the Ultimate Hope.
"I'll participate in the 4-way tug-of-war. You will too, I assume?"
"Yes. Then we'll settle it there."
I met Kōenji-kun's fearless smile with blank expression.
Seeing my reaction, he broke into a wide, satisfied grin.
He soon returned to the standby area.
"It might actually be enjoyable."
Sudō-kun right in front of me, Kōenji-kun heading back, and Ayanokōji-kun—who briefly kept pace with me earlier.
I won't call them "evenly matched" with any irony.
They'd make excellent opponents for Ryūen-kun.
And more than that—the presence of Kōenji-kun and Ayanokōji-kun.
If those two ever cooperated, they could surely—even reach me.
"I'll wait patiently."
I murmured to myself.
They wouldn't team up to take me down just yet.
But someday they would.
Even if our positions changed, I remained an obstacle they had to overcome.
Even if the classes shifted.
I suppressed the faint stir of excitement and returned to the standby area.
...
The morning events wrapped up, and it was time for lunch break.
The school had announced that we could eat wherever we liked, so everyone was scattered in their preferred spots.
The usual cafeteria was open today too, providing meals for those who hadn't brought their own.
Apparently, they were serving special sports festival-limited dishes, so it was probably packed right now.
For my part, I'd made my own bento.
To recover from the slight fatigue of the morning session, I planned to eat alone in Class C's standby area, taking my time.
That was the plan.
"Give me one of those tamagoyaki pieces."
"No way, Ibuki-san. That tamagoyaki is the one I had my eye on."
"Wait, Hiyori. This guy's bento is mine. I won't allow portions to shrink."
"Ryūen-san, I bought bentos! …Whoa, Kamukura-san's looks delicious! Give me some!"
A noisy bunch had surrounded me like they were pinning me down.
Even though it was a rare shady spot, the high population density made it feel anything but cool.
Ryūen-kun in front, Shiina-san on my right, Ibuki-san on my left, Albert behind, and now Ishizaki-kun joining in.
Somehow, a perfect encirclement had formed without me noticing.
Their target was my bento. They knew about my Ultimate Chef talent—and they'd gotten a taste for it.
That was the current situation.
"This is my lunch. You all have your own, don't you?"
I shifted the bento away from reaching chopsticks, defending my meal.
"Don't be stingy. Just one piece is fine."
"You have your own bento too."
"That's that, this is this. I want what I want."
As I guarded against Ibuki-san, a suspicious grin caught the corner of my eye.
A demonic hand moved chopsticks swiftly toward my bento.
I dodged again and turned to the culprit.
"You're persistent too. You have what Ishizaki-kun bought, don't you?"
"I'll eat that too, but I'll eat yours as well. Doesn't food someone else is eating always look irresistibly good? No problem there."
"It's nothing but problems."
Knocking chopsticks away with chopsticks would be bad manners, so I focused purely on evading.
The ever-stubborn man kept aiming for any opening.
"Annoying."
"It's lively—it's nice."
"Say that after you're the one being targeted."
"Fair point. Then, would you like to try targeting my bento instead? We could trade."
"Which part of the onigiri are you planning to trade?"
"…The filling, maybe? Or one bite?"
"Rejected."
Shiina-san tried negotiating with a convenience-store onigiri.
She'd become far less reserved since enrollment.
Proof that she felt comfortable around these people—but right now, it was honestly bothersome.
"Kamukura-san, I—"
"—won't give you any."
I cut Ishizaki-kun off before he could finish.
It was obvious what he wanted, so preemptive containment.
He looked disappointed. But he wasn't the one who mildly intrigued me.
"You don't beg, do you?"
Amid the enemies all around, one person was quietly eating a homemade bento—Albert. I felt a measure of relief toward him.
Noticing my gaze, he seemed to understand and nodded.
Then he promptly resumed eating.
He must be hungry. Despite his massive frame and powerful arms, he handled chopsticks deftly.
His refined manners made an elegant picture—far more so than certain pure-Japanese delinquents. Half-foreign or not, he'd clearly grown up in Japan.
"Hey, Albert. Give me a bite."
My one oasis of conscience now faced the beggar's fangs.
But Albert nodded without the slightest grimace.
"You've leveled up, Albert."
Ryūen-kun smirked faintly after taking a bite, and Albert returned a smile.
He didn't seem displeased, so I stayed out of it.
"Ryūen-kun, you don't cook for yourself?"
Shiina-san asked.
"Obviously. Food's something you get others to make."
"Total agreement. Actually, the idea of Ryūen cooking is creepy—please never do it."
"Hah, we're both bad fits for the image, Ibuki. But… kuku, looks like you're diligently practicing for marriage."
He grinned at me while saying it.
But Ibuki-san responded without reacting to the bait.
"Idiot. Cooking for yourself is mandatory in this school. Accept the fact that I'm better than you at it."
"What's superior about wasting time? Good food's something you pay for."
"…Waste of points."
That pause just now was probably sympathy. If I hadn't advised her early after enrollment, she'd surely have lived the same way as Ryūen-kun.
"Necessary expense. Happier than living frugally every day."
The self-cooking faction and the eating-out faction started clashing. As things threatened to heat up, Ishizaki-kun frantically tried to calm them.
"Pointless."
"Ah, my tamagoyaki—"
"Mine, remember?"
I'd finished eating, so I stood to escape this irritating spot.
The next event was the scavenger hunt race. We had about thirty minutes until it started—enough time to rest in a cooler place.
I'd also replenish my fluids while I was at it.
"Where're you going?"
"To secure some free drinks for the afternoon."
"Then grab mine too."
"Go yourself."
Shameless. What did he think the Ultimate Hope was?
"Ah, I'm out of water too."
"Me too. I thought I brought plenty since it's hot today, but somehow it's gone."
The girls looked at me, eyes clearly demanding I buy some.
"I'm not buying any."
"Then, rock-paper-scissors for the loser?"
Ryūen-kun grinned as he said it.
Rock-paper-scissors for the loser—I interpreted it as everyone who wanted water playing, and the loser buying for the whole group.
"Ishizaki, Albert—you're in too."
"Eh? I just bought some—"
"—Shut it. I don't allow excuses."
Albert and Ishizaki-kun's participation was decided.
"I'm not playing."
"What, running away, Ibuki? Hiyori's raring to go."
Ibuki-san glanced at Shiina-san.
Shiina-san was smiling brightly at the silly game.
Her cheerful vibe made it obvious she intended to join. Probably her first time playing something this pointless.
"…Bring it on."
Ibuki-san's participation was sealed.
"That's the deal. You're in too, right?"
Ryūen-kun flashed that provoking grin at me.
He obviously wanted to stick me with buying the water—his intent was transparent.
What a pointless game.
"Trying to beat me at pure luck? You're a thousand years too early."
"Talk big. Luck's luck—you lose when you lose."
We played rock-paper-scissors.
In the end, I never lost once, and Ishizaki-kun ended up going to buy water for everyone.
Class C's closeness has increased!!
…
"Food's done. Time for the real fun."
Ryūen-kun stood after polishing off the bento Ishizaki-kun had bought.
"Heading for dessert?"
"Something like that."
He brushed off Shiina-san's innocent question and turned to me.
I already had a rough idea what he was about to do.
Of course, it wasn't to eat sweets.
"You coming?"
"I've got time to kill."
I accepted.
There was still a while before the next recommended event—the scavenger hunt race. No better way to spend it.
"…What exactly are you two planning?"
"You're slow today, Ibuki. Forgotten my whole goal for this sports festival?"
Ibuki-san narrowed her eyes and shot Ryūen-kun a disgusted look.
She'd figured it out the moment he provoked her.
His goal here: crush Class D.
And at its core—target Horikita Suzune.
"…Fine. And you're just going to stand by and watch, as always?"
"Yes."
"That's pretty poor taste."
"Don't worry. I won't push it too far."
At that, Ibuki-san let it drop.
She could tell I wasn't budging. With that, the conversation ended, and we left the standby area.
"So, everything ready?"
"Yeah. Had Kinoshita sit out every event after the three-legged race.
Plenty of time to spare."
He laid out the plan casually as we walked, like idle small talk.
Kinoshita-san—the one who'd made contact with Horikita-san in the three-legged race and gone down.
Ryūen-kun was using that incident to squeeze points out of Horikita-san.
If both had simply gotten hurt, extorting points would be impossible.
But with his cunning, he was fabricating a situation to turn the impossible into reality.
The groundwork: Kinoshita-san abstaining from all later events to make her "injury" seem genuine.
"Made Kinoshita's injury real… and successfully planted suspicious behavior on Suzune during the race.
Focus the attack on those two points, blow the whole thing up, and take the money."
"Sloppy work. Why not plan it more carefully?"
"In the end it's just harassment.
The win goes to whoever irritates the opponent fastest and cleanest. Elaborate schemes just waste effort."
No need to overwork simple harassment—that was his stance.
"We're here. Kikyo should be calling Suzune out around now, right?"
We'd arrived at the cottage set up for emergencies and treating the injured.
It served the same purpose as the infirmary.
Kinoshita-san was almost certainly resting inside.
We stepped in and headed toward the bed.
Kushida-san, Horikita-san, and Class D's homeroom teacher, Chabashira-sensei, were preparing to speak with Kinoshita-san.
"Looks like things have gotten pretty serious."
Ryūen-kun shoved his hands in his pockets and strode in like he owned the place.
Two faces registered shock: Horikita-san and Chabashira-sensei.
Horikita-san quickly masked it with calm, but the acting was clumsy—Ryūen-kun would see through it instantly.
I observed from one step back.
"Why are you here?"
"Kinoshita consulted me, so I came running. Never imagined that injury was deliberate."
With that, he moved deeper into the room.
Ignoring the medical staff trying to stop him, he pulled open the curtain around Kinoshita-san's bed.
"Yo, Kinoshita. How's the leg?"
The moment she saw Ryūen-kun, Kinoshita-san's fear spiked; her shoulders shook visibly.
Half performance, half real. From his earlier remark about "making" the injury, he'd clearly turned her fake wound into something genuine.
That terror showed through.
"Nasty injury. How're you planning to settle this, Suzune?"
Ryūen-kun made sure everyone saw the wound before speaking.
Slender, well-trained legs—now wrapped in bandages, looking pitiful.
"I made no intentional contact. There was no reason to."
"Not necessarily. Look at the facts: Kinoshita, with superior athletic ability, is sidelined.
Result—she's hurt badly enough to miss every later event.
You injured her yet kept competing. Hard not to suspect intent."
"That's your narrative. The fact remains we collided by accident."
"Accident, huh."
Ryūen-kun's smile deepened, devilish.
"Suzune claims this, but what's the truth, Kinoshita?"
Half-forcing her, he prompted Kinoshita-san to speak.
"Horikita-san… as I fell, she told me… 'I won't let you win no matter what.'"
"I never said any such thing."
Horikita-san shut down Kinoshita-san's act with a single line.
Her resolve remained solid.
"Horikita, you kept looking back only while running with Kinoshita. Why?"
Chabashira-sensei asked from a neutral position.
"Because the runner behind kept calling my name repeatedly.
I ignored it at first, but she called over and over, so I thought it strange and turned."
"I see. Is that accurate, Kinoshita?"
Now Chabashira-sensei directed the question to Kinoshita-san.
"I never called anything."
"The injured party says otherwise. Even if she had called, that wouldn't be strange.
Kinoshita's competitiveness is top-tier in class. Her desire to win probably slipped out unconsciously."
Ryūen-kun steered the conversation back to his rhythm.
To sum it up:
Horikita-san had done nothing wrong. She was the one being framed in this web of lies.
The reason she was targeted: she was Class D's central figure.
To destroy Class D, Ryūen-kun had devised this plan to take down Horikita-san, close to its head.
Deliberately inflict a serious injury on Kinoshita-san, then keep her out of subsequent events.
On top of that, create grounds to make it seem Horikita-san had caused it.
The entire exchange was a pointless farce drenched in lies.
Yes—pointless.
His methods were hardly praiseworthy, yet they were always constructed from unexpected angles outside the norm to seize victory.
This time, however, it was obvious. He was toying with a method he knew would win.
Thus the future was easy to predict.
Horikita-san's defeat. Her own fault for doing nothing.
That outcome now carried the highest probability.
The existence that had produced a traitor from Class C might alter this future—thinking of that offered brief distraction, but only temporary.
"I'm bored."
The words slipped out, and every gaze turned to me.
"…Why are you even here?"
"To observe. For the sake of an unpredictable future."
"Then kindly refrain from interrupting."
Horikita-san spoke warily.
"You still haven't realized?"
"Realized what?"
"The reason you're this cornered."
At that, her eyes narrowed.
Why had she done nothing?
There was probably some justifiable reason, but there had to be a larger cause as well.
"You grew overconfident after believing you'd matured in the last exam, didn't you?"
Her gaze sharpened further.
She offered no rebuttal—some self-awareness, then.
The self that had grown. She'd achieved results on the ship exam and become overconfident.
"I can handle it now." That newfound confidence had indeed marked growth, but the backlash had triggered a critical flaw.
—Much like Ryūen-kun after I crushed him early on, heading into the uninhabited island exam.
Hence this result: reduced to a cornered, injured puppet.
"Boring. You're painful to watch right now."
I'd completely lost interest. Amid the gathered stares, I turned my back and left.
"Kuku, can't argue back because the overconfidence is real. Want some comfort, Suzune?"
"…Be quiet."
Horikita-san's voice, its edge slightly dulled, echoed down the corridor, but my ears let it pass.
To shake off this tedium, I recalled two sources of anticipation.
The existence of Rokusuke Kōenji, and the one who had created a traitor from Class C.
Both unknown quantities. They held promise.
The corridor rang pleasantly under my steps. I walked its empty length and began preparing for the scavenger hunt race.
***
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