The sun had climbed to its highest point, hanging like a blazing coin above the sprawling sports grounds. After the brief break, the announcer's voice crackled through the speakers again:
"Next event — the Girls' Cavalry Battle!"
The crowd erupted in cheers. Every class was on edge, the tension in the air heavy enough to cut through.
The rules were simple: four girls formed a team — three as the "horse" and one as the "rider." The goal was to snatch the headbands of opposing riders. Each headband represented points. And, as always, chaos was guaranteed.
Suzune stood in the center of the field, her ponytail fluttering lightly in the wind. Her teammates from Class D adjusted their grips, readying themselves.
But as soon as the whistle blew, Class C's four horsemen charged forward — all targeting her.
"Spread out!" Suzune ordered sharply, but it was no use.
The coordinated charge from Ryūen's class was ruthless. While the other teams engaged each other, Class C ignored everyone else, surrounding Suzune's formation.
Ibuki, perched on one of the Class C horses, gave a sly smirk. "Sorry, Class D. Orders are orders."
Suzune's horse swerved hard to the left, trying to escape, but Class C boxed her in. In less than thirty seconds, her headband was snatched clean off her head.
"Class D's main cavalry — eliminated!"
The rest of Class D's girls soon followed. Karuizawa's team fought hard, managing to grab one opposing headband before being overwhelmed.
She threw the captured band toward our tent before her own was taken. "At least… I didn't go down empty-handed," she muttered, wiping sweat from her brow.
"Girls' Cavalry Battle — victory goes to the White Team!"
The Red Team's morale sagged further. Suzune stood silently at the edge of the field, head lowered, the humiliation heavy on her shoulders.
Boy's Cavalry Battle
When the announcer called for the boys, I stood beside the track with folded arms, watching Sudō, Kiyotaka, Akito Miyake, and Hirata prepare their formation.
"Let's win this one," Hirata said with his calm smile.
"Yeah," Sudō replied, cracking his neck. "Leave the fighting to me."
The whistle blew.
The Red Team charged forward, dust and shouts filling the air. Sudō's group stormed through opponents, their synchronization tight. Class A's cavalry joined in, and together, they crushed several White Team formations.
"Good!" I yelled from the sidelines. "Keep the pressure—"
Then I saw Ryūen approaching.
He stood tall atop his horse, that same devilish grin twisting his lips. "Oi, Sudō… let's see if you're actually as strong as they say."
"Bring it on!" Sudō roared before Hirata could stop him.
"Wait!" Hirata grabbed his arm. "Don't take the bait!"
But it was too late. Sudō lunged forward, focusing entirely on Ryūen's team. Hirata's coordination broke, their formation staggering.
Ryūen's smirk deepened. He danced back, evading Sudō's grabs. Each time Hirata reached for Ryūen's headband, his hand slipped — literally slid right off.
"Wha—?" Hirata frowned, trying again, but Ryūen only laughed.
In one swift motion, Ryūen leaned forward and snatched Hirata's headband instead.
"Headband secured! White Team scores!"
The whistle blew, ending the round.
Afterward, rumors spread fast — Ryūen had smeared hair wax all over his headband, making it impossible to grip. There was no proof of cheating, though; no one had seen it happen, and the referees couldn't intervene without evidence.
The loss hit Class D like a hammer.
Sudō clenched his fists, trembling with frustration. "That bastard… he cheated!"
"But we can't prove it," Hirata said quietly.
I placed a hand on Sudō's shoulder. "Calm down, man. Getting angry won't change the score."
He shook me off and stormed away.
Later, Kiyotaka met with Karuizawa near the refreshment tent. She'd been frowning since the last match, a crease forming between her brows.
"You've noticed, haven't you?" Kiyotaka said softly.
"Yeah," she sighed. "It's too convenient. Suzune's been matched against Class C again and again. Even her partner draws look rigged."
"That's because they are," he replied. "Ryūen has the entire participation table. Every matchup, every pairing — he knows them all."
Her eyes widened. "You mean… there's a leak?"
Kiyotaka nodded. "Someone from our class leaked the details to him. He's been using it to tailor his matchups — neutralizing our strengths and targeting Suzune to break her morale."
Karuizawa bit her lip. "And you just… let him?"
He glanced toward the field, where the next events were being set up. "Everything is going according to plan."
"What plan?" she demanded. "We're losing!"
"I never said we were here to win."
She stared at him, stunned into silence.
Before she could say more, Sudō's furious voice cut through the air.
Across the training area, Sudō was shouting at Hirata, his fists clenched, eyes wild.
"Why didn't you stop him, huh?! You're supposed to be our damn leader!"
"Sudō, calm down—" Hirata tried, but Sudō wasn't listening.
"You always say that! But every time we lose, you act like it's fine!"
Yukimura, who'd been nearby, stepped in sharply. "You're one to talk! Every time you don't get the results you want, you start yelling at everyone!"
"Say that again, four-eyes!"
I stepped forward quickly, sliding between them. "Enough!" I barked. "Both of you, stop it right now!"
Sudō's glare burned, but for a moment, he hesitated. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Hirata reached out cautiously.
"Sudō, I get you're angry. But fighting us won't solve anything."
"Shut up!"
Before anyone could react, Sudō swung his fist — fast and hard.
"—Sudō!" I shouted, shoving Hirata out of the way before the blow could connect with him.
The punch stopped inches from Hirata's face, the tension freezing the entire field.
"What's going on here?!"
Chabashira-sensei's voice cracked like a whip. She strode over, her sharp eyes cutting through the crowd.
"Nothing," Hirata said immediately, stepping between them. "It was just a misunderstanding."
She didn't look convinced. "A misunderstanding that nearly turned into a fight?"
"I said it's fine," Hirata insisted, his calm voice trembling slightly.
Chabashira eyed him for a moment longer before exhaling. "Fine. But if I see one more outburst, there will be consequences." She turned and walked off.
Sudō said nothing. His jaw tightened. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away — off the field, out of sight.
Hirata lowered his head. "He's gone."
Ryūen strolled by a few minutes later, hands in his pockets, smirk firmly in place.
"Man, what a circus. Your class really is a mess."
"Go away, Ryūen," Hirata muttered.
"Relax. Just wanted to say thanks. You're making it too easy for us."
He chuckled and started to leave — but paused, turning back slightly. "Oh, and do tell Suzune I said hi. She's looking a bit broken today."
Before Hirata could reply, Ryūen walked off, humming.
Kiyotaka watched him go, eyes unreadable. "He's overconfident. That'll be his mistake."
Hirata looked up. "Do we even have any trump cards left?"
Kiyotaka nodded slightly. "We do. And he hasn't seen them yet."
Later, Kiyotaka caught up with Suzune, who was sitting alone near the running track, a bandage on her leg.
"You really took a beating out there," he said.
She shot him a look. "What do you want?"
"I want to know if you understand Sudō's situation."
Her brow furrowed. "He's just throwing a tantrum. I don't have time to babysit him."
"That's where you're wrong."
She frowned. "Excuse me?"
"You've lost the trust of the class, Horikita. And you're too focused on your own performance to see what they need from you."
Her hands tightened around her knees.
He continued, his tone cold and sharp. "You can't control people with logic alone. They don't follow someone who just tells them what to do. They follow someone who understands them."
She glared at him, but he didn't stop.
"If you can't even bring back one angry classmate, then you're useless as a leader."
Her breath caught. "Useless…?"
He stood, dusting off his pants. "Think about it yourself. I won't give you any more advice."
Then he walked away, leaving her frozen in silence.
By noon, the festival paused for lunch. The Red Team gathered beneath their tent, nursing bruises and quiet frustration.
Kiyotaka sat down with Hirata and Karuizawa, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.
"So," Karuizawa said, poking at her bento, "what's our next move? You said you've got trump cards left, right?"
Kiyotaka nodded. "I do. But it depends on whether Horikita brings Sudō back. Without him, we won't stand a chance."
Hirata sighed. "She went to look for him. I just hope she succeeds."
Karuizawa frowned. "She's stubborn. But maybe this time, she'll listen."
While they talked, I wandered off for a bit of fresh air. That's when I spotted Ibuki, sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree.
"Yo," I greeted, waving casually.
She turned, holding up a small lunchbox. "You're late."
"Eh? Late for what?"
She huffed. "For this. I made you lunch."
I blinked. "You… made me lunch?"
"Don't make it weird," she muttered, thrusting the bento into my hands. "Just eat it already."
I opened it. Inside were slightly burned rice balls, uneven tamagoyaki, and what looked like sausages shaped like octopi — except they were kind of… melted.
Still, I smiled. "Wow. This looks amazing, Ibuki."
She squinted. "You don't have to lie."
"I'm not! I'm starving. Haven't eaten in three days, I swear."
I took a big bite — and almost choked. It was terrible. The rice was undercooked, the eggs salty enough to kill a plant, and the sausages had a strange sweetness that didn't belong there.
But I swallowed every bite like it was gourmet cuisine.
"It's… delicious," I managed, forcing a grin.
Ibuki looked unconvinced. "You're an idiot."
"Maybe," I said, wiping my mouth. "But you cooked for me. That's worth more than the taste."
She turned away, cheeks faintly pink. "You talk too much."
I leaned back with a grin. "Don't worry. I'll repay you someday."
She raised an eyebrow. "With what?"
"Love," I said without missing a beat.
She nearly dropped her chopsticks. "Wh-what?! Idiot!"
Her voice rose, but her flustered look was enough to make the whole miserable morning feel lighter.