The sound of rubber soles squeaking against polished gymnasium floors filled the air. The enormous hall buzzed with energy — a mix of chatter, laughter, and underlying tension. Every class from every year had been summoned, and for the first time since the uninhabited island and cruise ship exams, Advanced Nurturing High School was united under one roof.
A banner hung high above the stage, painted in bold red and white letters:
"Sports Festival General Meeting — Red vs. White."
The atmosphere felt both festive and intimidating.
Kiyotaka stood with his class in a line near the center court. The bright gym lights reflected off the polished floor, casting a warm hue over the hundreds of gathered students. Class 1-D clustered together — Sudō grinning with excitement, Horikita standing straight and attentive, Hirata wearing his usual polite smile, and Karuizawa chatting lightly with her friends.
I stood just behind them with the Miyamoto gang — Yukimura, Hasebe, Miyake, Mei Yu Wang, Okitani, Ijuin, Sakura, and Maezono — my arms folded and my expression casual. Despite my nonchalant appearance, I was watching everything carefully. This was where the tone for the festival would be set.
The Red Team's Leader
A commanding voice boomed from the stage.
"Alright, everyone. Quiet down."
The students fell silent as a tall, broad-shouldered third-year stepped up to the microphone. His uniform was crisp, his gaze sharp — this was Fujimaki, the representative of Class 3-A.
"As you all know," he began, his voice carrying easily across the vast gym, "the Sports Festival is not only a test of physical ability, but also a reflection of teamwork and strategy. The Red Team — that's us — will consist of Class A and Class D from each year. And I'll be taking charge as team leader."
The murmurs rose again, mostly from the first-years. Fujimaki was a well-known name, rumored to be one of the strongest athletes in the entire school.
He raised a hand to settle the noise. "I understand most of you have your rivalries — Class A versus D, D versus C, and so on. But for this event, you'll put that aside. The only enemies are the White Team. If we don't cooperate, we all lose."
He let that sink in before continuing. "I won't micromanage. Each year knows its own situation best. But I do expect effort. Do your part, communicate, and don't drag your teammates down."
Then, with a slight smile that carried the weight of authority, he added, "To the first-years — this is your chance to prove your worth. Make sure the upperclassmen remember your names."
Applause rippled through the Red Team. Even Sudō was clapping enthusiastically.
"Man, this guy's awesome," he said, eyes gleaming. "He talks like a boss."
Horikita simply replied, "He's competent. That's what matters."
Once Fujimaki finished his speech, the students began separating by school year. The first-years gathered on the left side of the gym — four distinct blocks forming: Class A, B, C, and D.
Kiyotaka, Horikita, and Hirata led Class D into their section, while I gathered the Miyamoto gang near the back. The seniors and second-years were already moving into discussions of tactics, but the tension between the first-years was palpable.
Almost immediately, Kōhei Katsuragi of Class 1-A stepped forward. His posture was formal, his expression serious.
"Since Class A and Class D are part of the Red Team, I believe it would be wise for us to coordinate early," he said. "We don't need to share every detail, but ensuring we don't clash in strategy will help both sides."
Horikita nodded. "Agreed. Our classes have different strengths, but we can cooperate where it counts. Let's avoid competing directly for points unless necessary."
Hirata supported the suggestion. "It's the best approach. If we're going to face both Class B and Class C, we'll need to minimize internal conflict."
The conversation was calm, logical — the kind of discussion Kiyotaka preferred.
But nearby, things were getting louder.
Across the gym, Honami Ichinose from Class 1-B was cheerfully talking to Ryūen of Class 1-C.
"Let's work together," she said with her usual radiant smile. "Since we're both in the White Team, there's no reason to act separately. Cooperation will—"
Ryūen cut her off with a scoff. "Save it, Ichinose. I don't need your naive pep talk. My class works alone."
He turned his back, hands in his pockets, and started walking away. His subordinates — Ishizaki, Albert — followed. The entire Class C began moving behind him, like a shadow following its master.
Ichinose frowned slightly but didn't pursue him. "That's unfortunate. But I suppose that's Ryūen-kun for you."
Her friend Kanzaki sighed. "He'll never change."
Back on the Red Team's side, Katsuragi had been watching Ryūen's retreat. He adjusted his glasses and turned to Horikita.
"Take that as a warning, Horikita," he said. "Ryūen doesn't play fair. He'll use sabotage, intimidation — even manipulation — to win. Don't underestimate him."
"I already know that," Horikita replied curtly. "He's been a problem since the island exam."
"Even so," Katsuragi continued, "he's dangerous in more ways than one. I'd advise keeping your classmates under control. A single emotional outburst could cost you the entire festival."
Horikita nodded. "Understood."
Kiyotaka, standing beside her, listened silently. Katsuragi's cautious nature contrasts sharply with Sakayanagi's arrogance, he thought. Class A is starting to split even more clearly.
At the corner of the Red Team, a lone girl sat elegantly in a folding chair — Arisu Sakayanagi. Her silver hair shone under the gym lights, and her delicate hands rested lightly on her lap.
Despite her frail appearance, her presence drew quiet respect from her classmates.
"I must apologize," she said softly, a gentle smile on her lips. "As you can see, I won't be of much use in a physical festival. Please forgive my lack of contribution."
A few classmates immediately reassured her. "Don't worry about it, Sakayanagi-san! We'll handle the running for you."
"Yes, please focus on coordination instead," another added.
Sakayanagi chuckled faintly. "How kind of you all. I'll be cheering from the sidelines."
But Kiyotaka noticed something others didn't — the subtle exchange of glances among Class A students. Some clustered around Katsuragi, others around Sakayanagi.
It was more than just friendly division. It was factional tension — the line between Katsuragi's traditionalists and Sakayanagi's loyalists had grown sharper.
Sakayanagi's influence is spreading quietly, he thought. Even without competing, she's tightening her grip.
Meanwhile, near the back of the gym, I gathered the Miyamoto gang together.
"Alright, everyone," I said, hands in pockets and a grin on my face. "I know we're not exactly top-tier athletes like Sudō or Hirata, but let's not overthink this. Just do your best. No need to stress about winning every event."
"Right!" said Okitani, bumping my shoulder. "We'll handle it in our own way."
Hasebe laughed. "That sounds like you — calm and lazy."
Ijuin stretched his arms. "As long as I don't end up running laps against Sudō, I'm good."
Sakura smiled nervously. "I'll… try not to trip this time."
I gave her a thumbs-up. "You got this, Sakura. Just enjoy it."
Mei Yu Wang nodded firmly. "We'll do our best together."
We all clapped our hands once, like a small ritual before a battle.
No complex strategy, no tension — just a simple, shared determination.
After the Meeting
Hours later, the general assembly wrapped up. The sound of folding chairs echoed as students began to disperse.
Class A and Class D lingered a moment longer. Katsuragi and Hirata shook hands — a silent pact to maintain cooperation.
"Let's make sure neither side sabotages the other," Hirata said earnestly.
"Agreed," Katsuragi replied. "May the better class win."
With that, the Red Team meeting came to an end.
As the crowd thinned, Kiyotaka and Horikita walked out together, the gym now quiet behind them.
"This event feels different," Horikita murmured. "Unlike the island or cruise exams, this one tests something simpler — physical skill. There's less room for scheming."
"Maybe," Kiyotaka replied. "But human nature doesn't change. Even in sports, strategies exist. Strength isn't just physical — it's psychological."
Horikita frowned. "You mean people might cheat?"
He gave a faint shrug. "I mean they'll use whatever's available. That's the essence of this school."
Horikita's eyes narrowed. "Then we'll just have to stay one step ahead."
Kiyotaka smiled slightly. "That's the plan."
After classes ended, the sunset painted the school corridors orange. Kiyotaka remained alone in the classroom, earphones in, listening to an audio file he'd received earlier that day.
The voice on the recording was faint — indistinct, but enough to stir his thoughts. After it ended, he stared at his phone for a long moment before slipping it into his pocket.
Information… leverage… alliances. Everything's shifting again.
He stood to leave, but as he exited the room, a familiar voice stopped him.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite underachiever."
Chabashira leaned against the wall, coffee in hand, her sharp eyes fixed on him.
"Staying behind again?" she asked.
"Just preparing," he replied evenly.
She took a sip, studying him. "You're not the type to get excited about sports. So what are you planning?"
"I'm just making sure we don't lose."
She chuckled. "You always talk like you're detached, but you're the one holding that class together, aren't you?"
He didn't answer.
Her expression hardened slightly. "Remember what I told you, Ayanokōji. If you don't produce results soon — if Class D doesn't rise — I won't protect you anymore."
Her words lingered heavily in the air.
Kiyotaka met her gaze calmly. "Understood."
Then, without another word, he walked past her, the echo of his footsteps fading into the evening corridor.
Behind him, Chabashira exhaled quietly, her expression unreadable.