Chapter 192: Opening Ceremony / Katsuragi Kohei's Secret Weapon

After a month of physical training, having narrowly escaped Ryuen Kakeru's self-destruct tactic, Fuyuji Mikage and the others finally welcomed the Advanced Nurturing High School's annual Sports Festival on the first Monday of October.

The Tokyo sky in October resembled a pane of semi-frosted glass. The cloud layer wasn't thick, nor was it gloomy—it simply spread evenly across the entire dome of the sky as far as the eye could see, filtering out the sharp edge of the sunlight and leaving behind a tepid, lukewarm glow that spilled evenly over the rows of buildings on the other side of the sea.

The wind wasn't strong, yet it already carried a hint of chill, rustling in from the sea, skimming along the school paths, sweeping past the treetops, slipping into the sports field, and gently stirring the hair of every student present.

Within the field, each class stood in their pre-designated areas, maintaining a certain distance, scattered across the vast grounds, listening to the speeches of the school faculty.

The homeroom teachers of each class had gathered together, standing in front of their students, their expressions grave as they discussed something.

[Due to recent significant temperature fluctuations, influenza has entered its peak season. To safeguard the health of all students and maintain the normal operation of the teaching schedule, the following reminders and notices are hereby issued:

Please pay attention to your own physical condition. If symptoms such as fever, muscle soreness, or fatigue appear, please immediately seek medical attention at the school infirmary.

...

Furthermore, all school teaching activities are currently proceeding as originally planned. All courses, exams, and other teaching arrangements will continue as scheduled. All students are required to attend classes on time and observe classroom discipline.]

Not far away, beneath the shade of a tree beside the track, Fuyuji, who had secretly slipped away by borrowing Katsuragi Kohei's Student Council armband, returned his phone to his pocket and looked at Horikita Manabu, who had been temporarily pulled over to help maintain order.

"With something like this happening, did the school have no thought of suspending the Sports Festival?"

If it had really been suspended, Ryu-chan would probably have spat out a mouthful of blood on the spot and died from sheer rage.

"No." Horikita Manabu gazed straight ahead, standing ramrod straight at the edge of the sports field. "On this matter, the school held an emergency meeting last night. Since it does not endanger the students' health, and since unexpected events better demonstrate the students' adaptability, the Sports Festival will proceed as usual."

"Then what about the students who withdrew due to illness..." Fuyuji raised an eyebrow.

"Naturally, they will be treated as standard absentees." The sunlight pierced through the clouds and reflected a cold gleam off Horikita Manabu's glasses. "Unless the circumstances are truly exceptional, the school will not grant special treatment to sick students. This, too, is a form of societal competition."

Oh ho! Right up Ryu-chan's alley.

"And how is your class's situation?"

"Everything as usual." His fingers quickly tapped a few times on the phone screen. Horikita Manabu looked up and gazed into the distance at the lectern, replying flatly.

On the lectern, the successful figure had already finished his speech. It was now that upperclassman Fujimaki's turn to speak.

"That's good, then. If even your class had gone down, our Red Team would be about halfway into the grave by now for this Sports Festival."

Fuyuji tugged at the corner of his mouth and then looked toward the direction of the second-year Class A.

Yes. Under Ryuen's tireless efforts, the second-year Class A had gloriously lost four students.

When Blond Senpai woke up, the sky had come crashing down.

For the entire second year, he held a certain degree of control. But there was no question—this period was when the second-year Class A was at its weakest. That was precisely why the ones idly chatting here right now were Horikita Manabu and Fuyuji, without the addition of a Nagumo Miyabi.

If it were any other time, he'd probably have come running over long ago, shaking that blond hair of his and issuing provocations at Horikita Manabu. Right now, he was likely busy suppressing the restless, stirring classes beneath him.

"Although it may deal a blow to morale, you should still prepare yourself mentally for this." Horikita Manabu continued texting with his head lowered.

"What do you mean?" Fuyuji had an ominous premonition.

"I just received word. The third-year Class D is missing two students."

Fuyuji Mikage: "..."

That bastard Ryu-chan—just how many people did he mess with in these two days?

"What is the situation with the first years?" Horikita Manabu pocketed his phone and asked without a change in expression.

Raising a hand to his forehead and roughly sweeping his eyes over the headcount of each class on the field, Fuyuji casually replied, "Oh, our class is fine."

Horikita Manabu turned his head and calmly regarded him for a moment, then repeated once more. "I meant the situation of the first years."

"..."

As expected of the tsundere glasses-wearing sadistic siscon. After all that roundabout conversation, he was really just trying to find out about Horikita-girl's situation.

"She should... be fine... right?" Fuyuji cupped his chin.

At present, both Class A and Class D belonged to the Red Team. If there were any personnel absences, given Hirata Yosuke's personality, he should have notified Class A in advance.

"That's good, then..."

Just then, enthusiastic applause erupted from beneath the distant lectern. Fujimaki-senpai's voice turned impassioned.

"Finally, on behalf of all students and faculty of the entire school, I wish this Sports Festival a complete and successful conclusion."

Fujimaki-senpai bowed and stepped down from the lectern. As the music began to play, the long-awaited Sports Festival officially kicked off.

"Well then." Horikita Manabu strode forward, walking across the grass toward his own class. "Do your best in the competition."

"Ah, you too."

Compared to the stern-faced Horikita Manabu, Fuyuji seemed rather indifferent and disinterested. He casually waved a hand at him.

"Also..."

"What?"

Horikita Manabu's footsteps paused. His gaze lingered for a moment on Fuyuji's arm. "The Student Council armband may only be worn by Student Council members. Do you need me to submit an application on your behalf?"

"Thanks, no need, goodbye!" Fuyuji refused him with a rapid-fire triple rejection and immediately turned around, heading straight for the first-year Class A camp.

...

On the vast sports field, the red rubber track divided the Red and White teams in two, with the tent camps set up facing each other.

Students were prohibited from crossing the track without authorization to enter the opposing camp. Thus, the only way to make contact with members of the other team was during the competitions themselves.

In a slightly more distant corner, two medical huts had been set up. A rough estimate suggested each could accommodate around twenty people. From the Red Team camp, one could faintly make out equipment such as air conditioners and water dispensers. Medical staff in white coats sat in their chairs, on standby.

"Preparations are quite thorough..."

Returning to the first-year Class A camp, Fuyuji casually found a spot beneath the shade of a tree with few people around and quickly swept his gaze over the surroundings.

The entire Class A, all forty members, had gathered here. In the center, Katsuragi had already led several classmates in swiftly bringing out the prepared glucose, energy drinks, bananas, and other supplies, setting them out on the tables.

At the finish line of the track, staff members had already moved a device resembling a speed-measuring apparatus beside the track. The broadcast rang out, notifying students that the first event—the 100-meter dash—was about to begin.

One had to admit, Advanced Nurturing High truly lived up to its promotional slogan of being equipped with all manner of advanced facilities.

In his previous life, they'd probably have one person with a stopwatch, one person watching each runner, press the button, and call it done.

Just then, a pair of fair, slender hands quietly reached out from behind Fuyuji and gently kneaded his shoulders.

"In a little while, I'll be cheering for you~" A gentle voice carrying a faint smile sounded from behind him.

Without turning his head, Fuyuji softly grasped one of those smooth, delicate little hands. Keeping his face taut, he swiftly turned around and spoke with grave seriousness. "Compared to that, I'd much rather see my gentle-as-water yet faintly mischievous Miss Asuka in her gallant form on the competition field."

In the very next second, a deliberately hushed, startled cry rang out. Pale golden hair billowed through the air.

Shiraishi Asuka, dressed in a red gym uniform with pure white athletic shoes, was pulled into Fuyuji's embrace. Her stunningly beautiful, pink-flushed face pressed close against his chest.

Immediately, Fuyuji ceased to conceal the wickedness in his heart. He extended his sinful hands, drew them close to her exquisitely delicate collarbone, and began meticulously kneading those smooth, satiny shoulders.

"So allow me to help Miss Asuka relax her muscles instead?"

"Fufu~ Fufu~"

Her flawlessly curved chest rose and fell a few times. With a twist of her incredibly flexible body, Shiraishi gently slipped out of his embrace. She wrapped her arms around Fuyuji from behind, once again turning the tables and seizing the initiative.

"That won't do, you know. I want to see Fuyuji's charming figure during the competition even more."

"What 'charming figure'? Those are clearly my lines. I should be the one cheering for Shiraishi-mama."

"Hmph, not true. This is my job. Fuyuji isn't allowed to steal it."

"Mine."

"Mine~"

...

Standing quietly off to the side, Kamuro Masumi silently retreated two steps, staring in sheer shock at the two utterly absorbed in their sickeningly sweet display.

Was this bastard's childishness contagious or something?

Morishita Ai was one thing, but how had Shiraishi also turned into this?

One had to remember, during the opening self-introductions, Shiraishi Asuka had, with her Yamato Nadeshiko-like gentleness and that uniquely mysterious aura, earned the warmest applause from the entire class.

And now, Fuyuji had turned her into this.

Truly, an irredeemably harmful scumbag!

A dozen or so minutes later, the first competition event—the 100-meter dash—officially began.

All individual events were initiated by the first years, starting with the first-year boys and going up to the third-year girls. The next individual event would then start with the first-year girls and go up to the third-year boys, cycling back and forth.

The first group from Class D featured a red-haired boy named Sudo Ken. According to the intelligence Class A had gathered, his physical ability ranked among the very top of the entire grade.

It seemed they intended to seize the initiative and boost Class D's morale with a resounding victory.

In response, both Class A and Class C, who possessed Class D's participation roster, had, by unspoken agreement, chosen to avoid the edge and sent out students with weaker physical abilities.

The result was unsurprising. Sudo Ken left everyone in the dust on the competition field, running with lightning speed, his legs practically churning out sparks, leaving behind the bespectacled Sanada Kosei to flounder in disarray on the track.

"Even though it's a sacrificial pawn strategy, this is way too demoralizing. I'd only run two-thirds of the race." Sanada walked back from the track with a bitter smile, falling into a state of self-isolation.

"No problem!" Fuyuji slung an arm around Sanada's shoulder. "You've still got me, don't you?"

"Please don't bring that up to me right now. Also, Fuyuji-san, isn't your group about to start soon too?"

If he hadn't brought that up, it would have been fine. But the moment he mentioned it, Sanada's head drooped even lower.

Back in swimming class, the two of them had been brothers in misery, flopping around in the pool together. And now, this guy's physical ability was probably ranked within the top five of Class A.

How many months had it been since then?

Was he even human?

However, before Sanada could emerge from his self-isolation, the starting signal for the next group rang out once more.

Roughly speaking, once one group finished running, the next group immediately followed onto the track—eight people per group, two from each class. A single group could finish running in twenty-some seconds.

The second group had just taken off when the members of the third group arrived on the track to prepare.

Unsurprisingly, the students of this group drew the attention of the first-year students.

"Isn't that..."

"Katsuragi! If you lose again, commit seppuku! Our Class A can't afford this kind of disgrace!"

"Do your best, Katsuragi-san! Don't lose to him! Believe in the bond between us!"

"Katsuragi! Now's the time! Use our sure-kill secret weapon!"

...

Listening to the half-encouraging, half-pressuring clamor of Class A around him, Katsuragi nodded heavily, then turned with an expression of extreme strain toward the competitor beside him.

Because Class D had sent out students with weaker stamina for this event, Class A had speculated that Class C would likely send a student with above-average physical ability.

They never imagined...

"Ryuen... are you alright? Do you need me to call a doctor?"

In just two short days, Ryuen Kakeru seemed to have shrunk by an entire size. His cheekbones jutted out sharply, as if carved by a blade. His eye sockets were deeply sunken, ringed all around with dark circles. His originally full cheeks had collapsed inward, making him look as though he hadn't slept in days.

"If you're sick, it's best not to push yourself."

"Katsuragi, are your eyes blind? I'm perfectly fine right now." Ryuen, who had regrettably not been killed off by his illness, sneered coldly.

"..."

With you looking like that, I'm afraid you might die on the track and splash blood all over me.

Before Katsuragi could compose his emotions, the starter's voice had already reached his ears.

"Next group! On the track!"

White clouds drifted lazily overhead. Sunlight spilled across the field. The students of the four classes took their positions on the track one after another.

Hmph!

Ryuen stood in the second lane and let out a cold snort.

Of course he knew that in his current condition, high-intensity exercise wasn't suitable. The problem was, his physical ability itself ranked within the top three of Class C. If he were absent, it would undoubtedly be a squandered opportunity to score points.

So, after finishing his dirty tricks, he had immediately and without pause massively increased his medication dosage. By this morning, he had barely managed to elbow the flu into submission and made it onto the track.

"Katsuragi! Don't wet your pants in fright at my speed, you useless Class A leader!" Even with his body utterly ravaged, Ryuen still did not forget to provoke the competitor beside him, hoping to disrupt his opponent's mental state.

Hearing this, Katsuragi let out a long sigh. His fist silently clenched, then quietly loosened again. His voice turned deep and low.

"You're right... when it comes to physical ability, I have indeed disappointed my classmates' expectations. Despite being this big and burly, I've lost to other students time and time again. This once left me deeply frustrated, racking my brains..."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Ryuen sensed something was off.

Ignoring Ryuen's words, Katsuragi continued his incantation.

"Through failure after failure, I gradually came to comprehend a victory formula that belongs to me alone. For this, no matter what price I must pay, I have already steeled my resolve..."

"This is a competition field—"

Before Ryuen could finish, the starter beside the track called out, "Ready—"

Katsuragi's impassioned voice rose in response.

"Take this, Ryuen! This is the struggle I've made for the sake of victory! SOLAR FLARE!"

Katsuragi tilted his head ever so slightly. The morning sunlight, slanting in at an angle, struck his incomparably smooth, gleaming bald scalp and ricocheted off, shooting straight into Ryuen's eyes. In an instant, it dealt a blinding effect.

"The fuc—!"

"Bang—!" The gunshot fell.

When Ryuen opened his eyes again, Katsuragi had already spread his heels and bolted more than ten meters away.

The Class A students watching from the sidelines instantly erupted into thunderous cheers.

"Hahaha! Katsuragi, I admit it! In terms of physical ability, no one in Class A is stronger than you in this Sports Festival!"

"OOOOH! This is a track maneuver that can only be mastered by one who possesses both a bald head and top-tier computational ability!"

"Ryuen, you worthless dog! Hurry up and go! I put two thousand points on you to win!"

Perhaps it was because his major illness had just barely passed, or perhaps Katsuragi's move was simply far too unexpected, dealing Ryuen a powerful blow of psychological damage—whatever the reason, it was only now that he belatedly swung his arms and broke into a desperate sprint.

"AAAAARGH! Katsuragi Kohei! You damned bald-headed bastard! I'm going to kill you!"

The fierce wind rushed to meet him, howling past Ryuen's ears.

But no matter how fast he ran, over the course of this hundred-meter distance, a two-second head start meant a gap as vast as the heavens.

In the end, through Katsuragi's tireless efforts at the cost of his own dignity—the most infamous figure of the first year, Ryuen Kakeru, valiantly seized the glorious achievement of dead last in the third group of the first-year 100-meter dash, incidentally providing the bored masses of the entire school with yet another dose of entertainment.

Meanwhile, Katsuragi narrowly, hair-raisingly, snatched the thoroughly mediocre result of first place.

The very first event of the Sports Festival concluded with Class C earning the highest level of discussion—and thus, victory...

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50 [Power Stones] = Bonus Chapter!