The air around the school grounds was buzzing with tension. September sunlight filtered through the clouds, glinting off the gym windows and the tracks where students were already running drills. Every class—from A down to D—was locked in a quiet war of information.
Not through open conflict, but through reconnaissance.
Groups of students loitered near fences or benches pretending to chat, eyes darting toward the fields where others trained. The true battlefield wasn't physical; it was the participation tables—the secret lists deciding who would run, jump, or fight in the coming Sports Festival.
If even one class leaked that information, their opponents could adapt and crush them.
Strategic Conversations
That evening, Kiyotaka Ayanokōji walked beside Suzune Horikita on their way back to the dorms. The last streaks of orange daylight stretched over the path, the cicadas still droning in the distance.
"I need you to come with me tomorrow morning," Kiyotaka said quietly.
Suzune narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
"Kushida will be there too. I asked her to help with reconnaissance."
Her pace slowed. "Why bring her? You know she and I—"
"—don't get along?" Kiyotaka finished smoothly. "Exactly why I need both of you there."
Suzune frowned but said nothing.
He looked ahead, his tone calm and analytical. "During the cruise ship exam, I suspected a traitor from our class. After reviewing the results and the timing of certain messages, my conclusion is that it was Kushida. But I need confirmation. And that means bringing both of you together."
Her expression hardened. "You think she'd sabotage her own class just to hurt me?"
"Yes," he said flatly. "And I think you already know why."
A long silence stretched between them before she finally replied. "You're walking a dangerous line, Ayanokōji. If you provoke her—"
"I'm not provoking her," he interrupted softly. "I'm just finding the truth."
Saturday morning arrived with a quiet calm. The dorm's lounge was alive with the chatter of first-years enjoying a rare free day.
Inside one of the corners, Kiyotaka sat with the so-called Three Idiots of D-Class—Ike, Yamauchi, and Sudō—and me, Sōshi Miyamoto, lounging on the couch with my legs crossed.
"Yo, Ayanokōji," Ike grinned, sipping his juice box. "What's up with you hanging around Horikita so much? You two dating or what?"
Kiyotaka gave his usual flat stare. "No."
"Yeah right," Yamauchi snickered. "That's what every guy says right before it becomes official."
Sudō slammed his drink down. "Oi! Don't talk about Horikita like that."
"Whoa, easy, tiger," I said, chuckling as I leaned forward, resting an elbow on my knee. "Man's defending her already."
Sudō blushed immediately. "Shut up, Miyamoto! It's not like that!"
I grinned, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, if you want to learn how to melt a girl's heart like I did with Ibuki, I can give you lessons."
That made Ike choke on his juice. "You and Ibuki? From Class C? No way!"
"Why not?" I said, flashing a sly smile. "Here, I'll show you how it's done."
I pulled out my phone and dialed her number, exaggerating a pitiful tone as soon as she answered.
"Ibuki~," I said dramatically, "I miss your cold stare already. My heart's in withdrawal."
A moment of silence—and then her voice, sharp as ever: "Die." Click.
The room erupted in laughter.
"Rejection level: lethal," Yamauchi wheezed.
"See?" I said, shrugging. "Takes years to build chemistry like that."
Even Kiyotaka cracked a faint smirk before his phone buzzed. He checked it, his expression unreadable. "I have to go. Meeting Horikita and Kushida."
"On a Saturday morning?" Ike groaned. "What's wrong with you?"
Kiyotaka didn't answer. He simply grabbed his jacket and left.
Kiyotaka met Suzune and Kushida Kikyō at the dorm lobby. The atmosphere was... chilly.
Kushida, as radiant as ever, waved with that perfect, practiced smile. "Morning, Horikita-san. Ayanokōji-kun."
Suzune nodded curtly. "Let's make this quick."
Kiyotaka gestured toward the door. "We'll check out the athletic fields and see how the other classes are training."
The three of them walked under the morning sun, heading toward the soccer grounds. The field was alive with movement—students running drills, coaches shouting instructions, and whistles slicing through the air.
Among the chaos, one figure stood out.
"Ah," Kiyotaka murmured, eyes narrowing. "So that's him."
Miyabi Nagumo, the newly appointed student council vice-president, moved with effortless authority. Every shout he gave carried weight, and the soccer ball seemed to obey him as he weaved through defenders and scored with precision.
"He's a second-year, right?" Kushida said, shading her eyes.
"Yes," Kiyotaka replied. "And Manabu Horikita's successor."
Suzune's gaze lingered on him longer than the others. "He certainly acts the part."
Nagumo noticed them watching and waved casually, his grin confident. "Yo, Ayanokōji-kun, Horikita-san, Kushida-san! Out for a stroll?"
"Just observing," Kiyotaka said neutrally.
"Well, enjoy the show," Nagumo laughed, before shouting new instructions to his teammates.
Even from a distance, it was obvious—his charisma commanded the field. He was everything a leader should be.
And, perhaps, everything Kiyotaka wasn't trying to be.
After Nagumo's practice ended, Kushida and Kiyotaka sat under a shaded bench while Suzune lingered nearby, pretending to watch the remaining players.
Kiyotaka turned toward Kushida. "Kushida, earlier, you mentioned your dislike for Horikita. I'd like to know why."
She smiled sweetly. "That's not something I like talking about."
"I won't ask again after this," he said calmly.
Her smile faltered for the briefest moment. "It's because of her."
Kiyotaka nodded slowly. "So the rumors were true."
Kushida didn't elaborate. She didn't need to.
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut air.
When Suzune finally walked back, the three of them looked as if they were sitting in three different worlds.
That was when Hirata and Sō Shibata from Class B appeared, jogging over from the far side of the field.
"Hey, you guys came to watch too?" Hirata said cheerfully.
"Something like that," Kiyotaka replied.
They chatted about the coming events, comparing notes about stamina drills and team coordination before parting ways. Hirata left with his usual warmth, waving as he went.
Once it was just the three of them again, Suzune turned sharply toward Kushida.
"I'll ask this once," she said. "During the exam on the cruise ship—did you cooperate with Ryūen or Katsuragi?"
Kushida blinked, feigning surprise. "Eh? What makes you think that?"
"I'm not asking for excuses. I just want the truth."
A pause stretched between them. Then, with an airy sigh, Kushida said, "The past doesn't matter, right? You said that yourself, Horikita-san."
Suzune hesitated, then exhaled quietly. "You're right. It doesn't."
Her tone softened, though her eyes remained sharp. "But tell me this instead—can I trust you now? Can I rely on you as a classmate?"
Kushida's smile returned, as flawless as ever. "Of course. You can always trust me."
Kiyotaka watched the exchange silently. He knew that smile—too perfect, too rehearsed.
"Well then," he said, standing. "I'll leave the rest of the reconnaissance to you two."
As he walked away, he didn't need to turn around to know both girls were watching him—Suzune with suspicion, and Kushida with quiet hatred.
The following days passed in a blur of dust, sweat, and determination. Every class practiced to exhaustion.
Class D met daily, refining tactics and perfecting lineups. I threw myself into sprints, tug of war, and pole toppling, while Sudō became the de facto captain of our athletic division.
By the last week, the participation table was finalized. Every student's role was locked in.
During the meeting, the discussion turned to the 1200-metre relay, the final and most symbolic event.
"I'll take the anchor position," Sudō declared confidently. "No one else can handle it like I can."
But Suzune raised her hand. "I want to be the anchor."
The room went silent.
Sudō blinked. "You? No offense, but wouldn't that be risky?"
The others murmured their agreement. Suzune's reasons—discipline, strategy, timing—fell flat. No one seemed convinced.
That was when Kiyotaka spoke.
"She wants the position because her brother will likely be the anchor for his team."
Everyone turned toward him.
Kiyotaka continued calmly, "She's not doing it out of pride or recklessness. She just wants a chance to face him properly. As a sister—and as a student."
A heavy silence lingered before Hirata nodded. "Then… let her have it."
Sudō sighed. "Tch. Fine. But she better make it worth it."
Suzune bowed her head slightly. "Thank you."
Across the room, I leaned toward Airi and whispered, "Guess this sports festival's turning into a family showdown."
Airi smiled faintly. "Yeah… but maybe that's what she needs."
As the meeting ended and the class dispersed, Kiyotaka lingered by the window, looking out at the sunset glowing over the school fields.
One week left. One week until another test of strength, trust, and deception.
The Sports Festival wasn't just about speed or power—it was another battlefield where the true nature of every class would be exposed.
And as he watched Suzune walk away with quiet determination and Kushida smile like a saint hiding a serpent, Kiyotaka couldn't help but think:
"When the race begins, the mask will finally crack."