"Everyone, we're doing the physical fitness test today. Go change into your gym clothes and meet outside."
Kirisu Mafuyu tapped the blackboard, her expression cold as ever.
"Let's go together, Sawamura-san!"
A cheerful voice rang out beside them.
Yukima Azuma turned toward it, catching sight of a girl with long, vivid red hair that practically radiated energy.
Who was that again?
Right—Kita Ikuyo, from Class B.
"U-um! Kita-san, I'm coming!"
Eriri stammered, a bit flustered.
She had just been arguing with Yukima a few minutes ago, and her still-sulking expression made her look more like a pouting cat than a high school girl.
She picked up her gym bag and turned to huff at Yukima—clearly unwilling to let him off the hook that easily.
Then she ran off to join Kita Ikuyo.
Yukima watched her go, his gaze thoughtful.
So she's made a friend, huh?
"Your expression right now says, 'That child… I raised her myself.'"
Kato Megumi's soft voice came from behind, teasing just the right amount.
Azuma chuckled.
"Exactly. I raised her since she was small. Finally, she can make friends without me babysitting her."
Honestly, if Eriri still couldn't make friends at this point, he'd be seriously worried.
Since elementary school, he'd been guiding her—coaching her through awkward social situations. Even though they'd grown distant during middle school, she should've made some progress by now.
Megumi nodded slightly, as if making a mental note.
Then she blinked—Yukima had held out his hand to her.
"Let's go. Together."
Almost by instinct, Megumi placed her hand in his. He pulled her up from her seat—and then let go right away.
"…Together? But the fitness test is gender-separated. Don't tell me you're planning to sneak into the girls' locker room to… peek?"
Yukima flicked her forehead lightly.
"What are you even saying? Don't you know what I meant?"
Megumi smiled faintly.
Of course she did.
But even she knew how to joke now and then.
The fitness test began.
Height, weight, and other basic measurements were first.
Then came the physical assessments: sit-ups, standing long jump, side jump, softball throw, 50-meter dash.
"The boys will start with sit-ups, girls will begin with the forward bend. Then switch. Pair up and record each other's results," the PE teacher called out.
Kato Megumi sat alone on a mat, quietly watching the rest of the girls pair off.
As usual, she'd been overlooked.
It happened a lot. She was so quiet and unobtrusive that even teachers tended to forget her presence.
Normally, she'd just make up a number and write it down—no one ever double-checked.
But today—
She waited.
Not even two minutes passed before she heard familiar footsteps approaching.
"Kato-san, I'll help you. Let's start."
Yukima Azuma sat down beside her.
Megumi leaned forward to begin the forward bend test—but more than stretching, it was to hide the faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Azuma calmly recorded the data on her form. When she sat up, he handed her his own.
"I finished mine while no one was looking. I'll help you with your stretches too."
Megumi nodded slightly, her cheeks just a little flushed.
She glanced at his score sheet without thinking.
Sit-ups: 90
…Seriously?
How is he this athletic?
A quiet sense of admiration flickered in her eyes.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the gym—
"Where did that guy go?"
Eriri glanced around the boys' area.
No sign of Yukima.
"Sawamura-san, is something wrong?" Kita Ikuyo asked, tilting her head.
"N-nope. Just saw a certain lazy guy slacking off," Eriri muttered, sitting down to start her forward bend.
She had to maintain her image—the brilliant, perfect ojō-sama of Toyosaki High.
She couldn't let herself fall behind in something as visible as physical ability.
In her mind, Yukima was clumsy with sports—just like her. Skipping the test sounded exactly like something he would do.
"Was it Yukima-kun?" Kita asked curiously as she jotted down the results.
Eriri nodded firmly.
Kita blinked.
But… she'd just passed by earlier and seen Yukima doing sit-ups at near-mach speed. He looked anything but clumsy.
Something was definitely weird between Sawamura-san and Yukima-san…
The test continued.
Standing long jump. Side jumps. Softball throw. Then the dreaded sprints.
Finally, it was time for the most feared challenge of all:
Boys—1000m. Girls—800m.
Eriri clenched her fists.
She had to get a decent time.
In Japanese schools, being labeled as "bad at sports" was an easy way to become a running joke—or worse, lose social standing.
She'd even tried practicing over spring break.
…Though it ended up being more like "three days of training, five days of relaxing."
"Kita, 7.93 seconds."
"Sawamura, 8.30 flat."
"Good job. Take a break before lining up for the 800m."
Eriri bent over, panting heavily, hands on her knees.
Her long blonde ponytail bounced with every breath.
"That was rough, huh? Want some water?" Kita offered, holding out a bottle.
Eriri shook her head, still catching her breath.
If she sat down now, she might not get up again.
After a few minutes, she stood straighter, steadier.
She and Kita walked toward the track's starting line.
When the whistle blew—
Eriri took off.
Her heart pounded, her legs moved on instinct.
"At the very least… I can't be the last one."
She gritted her teeth and ran.