“Ehhh—Ehhhl!”
Reikou stared at his question paper as if it were written in a long-lost alien language. The words blurred into meaningless squiggles. He began to rub his head so vigorously in frustration that the friction created a sound like a rusty saw cutting through oak.
Scritch-scratch! Scritch-scratch!
‘What the hell is this?!’ he screamed internally. ‘I don’t know a single answer! Thermodynamics? Ancient Literature? I don’t even know what room I’m in anymore! Top marks? Impossible. Passing? A dream. I’m going to get a zero!’
Reikou’s frustration reached a boiling point. He began to vibrate in his seat, his leg jackhammering against the floor so fast it sounded like a construction site.
The classroom was otherwise pin-drop silent. Every other student was hunched over, pens flying across paper. Yinglan-sensei, who had been patrolling the rows like a hawk, stopped and turned. He narrowed his eyes at the source of the rhythmic sawing and hammering.
"Shion-kun... what in the world are you doing?"
Sensei’s voice boomed, and forty pairs of eyes snapped toward the back of the room. Reikou was frozen, his hands still buried in his messy hair. He looked like a cornered animal.
"Ahn—hmm—nothing, Sensei! Just... thinking very hard!" Reikou forced a painful-looking smile.
Miles away, the atmosphere was electric.
The stadium was packed. The air hummed with the cheers of thousands of students and parents. It felt like the final match of the World Cup, a pressure that would make most players buckle.
Both teams took their positions. Kiyoshi Shenzuki, the ace of Velmont High, stood in the forward line. He flashed his signature cocky grin, eyes closed, teeth gleaming.
"Just watch," he muttered. "I’m going to be the top scorer today."
But as he looked up at the stands, something felt heavy in his chest. Families were cheering, groups of friends were waving banners, and girls were screaming for their boyfriends. But there was no "YOYO Team" banner. No Ryuuto yelling something stupid. No Reikou making an ugly face to distract the goalie.
‘So what?’ Kiyoshi told himself, though his smile faltered for a microsecond. ‘I don’t need anyone to cheer for me. They’re all stuck in that stupid test.’
The whistle blew. The game exploded into life.
Back in the classroom, Reikou was in a state of absolute panic. Yinglan-sensei was still hovering over him like a vulture.
"At least write the questions down," Sensei whispered with a mocking edge. "I might give you a single mark for handwriting."
He turned and continued his patrol. Reikou scanned the room. Even Ryuuto was writing furiously probably just drawing manga in the margins, but at least his pen was moving.
‘What do I do? If I turn in a blank sheet, Meiyu-Chan will think I’m the king of idiots! No... I have to write something. I’ll write my own truth!’
Velmont High was struggling. The score was 2-0 in favor of Shiranagi High. The Shiranagi defense was like an iron wall, and Kiyoshi hadn't even touched the ball in ten minutes.
The match restarted. A midfielder from Velmont found a gap. He sent a long, curving cross from the left wing.
Kiyoshi’s eyes locked onto the ball. The world slowed down. He didn't wait for it to land. He pivoted his body and met the ball with a thunderous first-touch volley.
“EEEECHAAAAAA!!”
SHREK! The net bulged.
GOAL!!
The Velmont stands erupted. The score was now 2-1. Kiyoshi celebrated by sliding on his knees toward the corner flag, mimicking an archer releasing an invisible arrow.
"Yo-Yo-Yo-GOAL!"
His teammates swarmed him, ruffling his hair. But amidst the celebration, Kiyoshi’s eyes drifted toward the Shiranagi side. He saw a group of friends jumping up and down, screaming the name of their player. For the first time, the "Cool Ace" looked genuinely lonely.
"S-Sir! B-sheet, please!"
Reikou’s hand shot into the air. Yinglan-sensei stopped dead. He turned around, his glasses sliding down his nose.
"A moment ago, you were staring at the ceiling like a dying fish. Now you need a second sheet?"
"Sir, please don't waste my time. Every second is precious," Reikou replied, his face suddenly turning into that of a stoic philosopher.
“Gehhh... this annoying child,” Sensei muttered, handing over the extra paper.
"Thank you!"
Reikou grabbed the sheet and began writing with such intensity that sparks practically flew from his pen. He was focused. He was determined.
But the real question remained What exactly was he writing on a math test that required a second page?
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