The environment around the two of them shifted drastically—from the serene, beautiful riverbank to a small, face-to-face space. This kind of questioning would normally feel oppressive and cold, but Yakishio Lemon didn't feel that way at all.
"…I don't know. This is the first time I've ever felt something like this."
Lemon placed a hand on her chest and let out a long breath. Her mood was surprisingly calm.
"When I saw Asahi that day, I was very unwilling, and I was disappointed in myself for avoiding things, but it wasn't just that… it wasn't just that.
"And I don't want to work hard just to beat Asahi. This isn't the kind of love I imagined…"
Her words were a bit muddled—even she couldn't neatly summarize the complex emotions in her heart.
"These aren't important. If you rack your brain and still can't figure it out, then act."
Kiyono looked at the girl in front of him, his voice gradually softening.
"The Yakishio Lemon I know is a passionate girl. She has a beautiful appearance, a slender figure, and she's strong and confident, shining like the sun."
His voice was firm, as if trying to reach the depths of her heart.
Her chest suddenly felt hot.
"So—"
Step forward, bravely.
A long silence.
"What if I still want to avoid it?" The girl raised her eyes to him, her lashes fluttering.
"Then I'll help you from the nearest place until you succeed," Kiyono said without hesitation.
"Will you make my confession successful?" the girl asked again.
"No. That's not what I mean." Kiyono shook his head.
"Then what do you mean?"
Kiyono said softly:
"I'll make sure you don't have to shy away from the complex emotions in your heart, and that you can run happily with your head held high. I'll help you reach that point."
He showed an incredibly brilliant smile.
"I'll make sure that ten years from now, when you recall this innocent crush, you'll smile and sigh, 'How wonderful it was,' instead of burying it deep in your heart and regretting it every time you think of it."
Kiyono extended his hand to her.
"Now, I'm going to use the loser's command from that day—
"Go and put an end to it."
Clang—the sound of breaking glass echoed in her mind.
The world seemed to sparkle with color.
Her eyes involuntarily welled up.
Really.
She gripped the hand extended to her.
Under the dim light, their hands separated, then curled into fists and gently bumped together.
"—Alright."
She exhaled a warm breath; her smile was gentle.
"Let's move forward together."
—And then,
Stagnant time began to flow.
In that instant, she understood clearly—
Ah, I truly like passionate, strong people.
---
That night, after parting ways with Kiyono, Yakishio Lemon's excitement couldn't be contained. Feeling hot all over, she decided to run to school and do a few laps.
On her second lap, a questioning voice called out.
"It's so late—what are you doing at school, Lemon?"
The well-mannered female coach walked over.
"I just suddenly felt like running for a bit…" Lemon stopped on the track and let out a sheepish laugh.
"Hm? So much enthusiasm today? Then I'll practice with you for another half hour."
The coach raised an eyebrow, bought a can of coffee from the vending machine, and stood at the finish line with a stopwatch in hand.
About three minutes later, she pressed the button and looked at the girl in front of her—smiling brightly—and couldn't help asking:
"Lemon, did something good happen to you?"
"Huh? How did you know, Coach?"
"Because it's too obvious, you silly. You haven't stopped smiling, and you're almost matching your fastest time these past few days even without spikes."
"Oh? …Is that so?"
Yakishio Lemon was startled. Seeing this, the coach opened her phone's front camera and handed it over. Under the bright lights, the screen reflected a radiant, beautiful face—the girl in the phone was smiling.
If an ordinary girl were standing here, she might deny it shyly, but Lemon readily nodded and admitted it.
"Yes, Coach!"
"Anyway, it's good you've got your spirits back." The coach smiled. "It seems we don't have to worry about tomorrow's competition either."
Lemon nodded vigorously. "Tomorrow I'll definitely win, and then…"
---
The next day—Saturday.
Today was the preliminary round for the track and field club against another school. The venue was Lemon's school sports field. As afternoon approached, athletes from both schools were warming up.
Lemon hadn't specifically invited Yanami Anna or Kiyono to watch. For athletes, practice meets were common; a sprint of just over ten seconds wasn't exactly spectator-friendly—cheers barely started before the race ended.
Even so, Yanami still swapped shifts to come—mainly because Lemon's previous condition had been concerning. Kiyono, meanwhile, kept working at the restaurant; he believed Lemon no longer needed him there in person.
The blue-haired girl stood a little farther away, carefully observing Lemon's condition—only to see other club members and the coach gathered around her with serious expressions, as if discussing something.
Lemon… is something wrong?
Yanami's heart tightened. She knew she probably couldn't help, but she still rushed over anxiously.
"Excuse me, did something happen?"
Everyone looked over. Lemon, in the middle of the group, glanced up and smiled at her, signaling not to worry.
"I just forgot to bring my spikes!"
"Isn't that terrible!?"
Yanami couldn't help exclaiming. Even an athletic novice like her knew how important familiar gear was on race day.
"It's okay, I can borrow some from other members."
Yakishio Lemon's expression was calm—though she'd panicked when she first realized it, since she'd placed her agreement with Kiyono on this competition. But she quickly returned to herself.
She remembered Kiyono's encouragement.
Small problems—fine.
True determination wouldn't be shaken by something so minor.
"This isn't the time for such talk, is it? This meet is important to you, Lemon. Where did you leave your shoes? Let me see if I can bring them."
Yanami spoke decisively, like a cool male protagonist.
"Uh… I think I left them in Kiyono's bike basket yesterday. It's probably too late now, right?" Lemon scratched her head.
"Kiyono?"
Yanami's expression froze, then smoothed. She quickly pulled out her phone. "Let me see if I can get him to bring them!"
"We can have other runners go first and move Lemon to the last slot," the coach added. Sprints usually have three participants; plus other distance events and warm-ups could buy time.
Yanami nodded and dialed the restaurant—she didn't have Kiyono's number.
---
Kiyono rushed between the kitchen and front hall, sweating, not even time for a sip of water.
When his senior informed him, he sprinted to the break room.
Yesterday they'd both been emotional and overlooked many things—among them, the spikes. He'd left them in the break room, planning to return them over the next couple of days—but he'd forgotten today was the weekend.
"If you were going to compete, you should've told me earlier…"
He snatched up the dirt-stained spikes and shouted to the big sister resting nearby, "Ono-senpai, I suddenly have something urgent. Please switch shifts with me—I'll cover yours tonight!"
As his voice fell, he dashed out of the room.
"Eh, that's fine, but…" Ono-senpai blinked at the young man in a work uniform. "You should change clothes before you go…"
Kiyono jogged outside, wiped the sweat off his face, tossed the spikes into the bike basket, and hopped on—he didn't know if he'd make it in time; he could only try his best.
He pedaled hard.
Good thing he remembered Yanami Anna's school address.
---
Time ticked by.
On the field, the two schools had finished all other events—only Yakishio Lemon's group remained.
"The sprint score is one to one…" The tall female coach frowned. The key to victory now rested on Lemon.
Lemon was the club's ace—fully capable of reaching nationals. Normally, there was no worry at all, but the chance of an accident without familiar spikes was high.
"Alright, it's my turn. Give me the shoes, Coach."
Yakishio Lemon instinctively glanced across the field, then turned back with a smile.
It would be best if Kiyono showed up, but if not, she would still run with everything she had—carrying his intentions.
"It can only be this way," the coach said, shaking her head.
Not far away, Yanami stared anxiously at the entrance. Was the timing too tight after all? When she confirmed Kiyono might not make it, a sense of helplessness—and the faintest relief she didn't notice herself—rose in her heart.
Lemon squatted to remove her shoes.
Sunlight filtered through layers of cloud and fell gently across the track.
Just then—
"Lemon!"
A sudden shout drew every eye. Lemon looked up to see a bicycle flying toward them, dust kicking up beneath the tires.
She stood, her throat working.
The boy wore a restaurant uniform, stained with ingredients and sauce, drenched in sweat—but holding a pair of shoes.
"The race hasn't started yet—take these." Kiyono tossed the spikes.
Lemon caught them, walked up, and blinked, speaking as calmly as she could. "Aren't you working?"
"It just passed the peak hour—otherwise you wouldn't see a hero make an entrance." Kiyono let out a long breath.
"I can still smell tempura oil on you… Thank you."
Lemon changed, tugged the laces tight, then stepped close and whispered in his ear:
"Now, to delay you a little longer—watch me from here. I'll win this for you."
Seeing Kiyono's surprised look, she flashed a mischievous smile and ran back to the track, full of vigor.
Her body felt so light.
Her heart was completely at ease.