Chapter 10: Strength That Refused to Stay Quiet

Chapter 10: Strength That Refused to Stay Quiet
"Some truths are muscles you never flex… until the world forces your hand." — Adam

Adam woke to the thrum of rain-softened sunlight pressing against his curtains.
His body felt heavy , he ran a hand through his hair, sat up, and stared at the faint dirt stains still stuck beneath his nails.

“Tch… embarrassing,” he muttered…

…but he slid it back into the deepest pocket of his wallet, protected like something fragile.

“Neee-chan. Wake up. Wake up. You’re gonna be late. Wake up. Wake up,”

“I AM awake—”
“No you’re not.”
“Sora, oh my God, I love you but stop...”
“You said you’d play with me today.”
“I did not say that.”
“You said maybe.”
“‘Maybe’ isn’t ‘yes.’”
“Then make it yes.”

She sighed, grabbed him, and pulled him into her blanket cocoon, squishing his cheeks.

“You little menace.”

Sora giggled all over her shoulder.

Downstairs, the small family convenience shop was already half-open.
Her mother waved while setting up the register.
Her stepdad stocked shelves in rhythmic clinks.

Breakfast was hurried.
Akane ran between brushing her hair, tying ribbons, making toast, and yelling at Sora to stop stealing her bento snacks.

She stepped out of the house finally, bag bouncing, breath puffing in the morning air.

And then she saw him.

Adam.
Waiting for her at the corner.
Hands in pockets.
Head leaned back against the pole.

He looked up as she approached.

“You look messy,” he said.
“You look alive. Barely.”
“Barely’s enough.”

They walked together in a quiet rhythm that didn’t need fixing.

...

Minato woke up like a man punched awake by destiny.

His alarm blared the chorus of some dramatic anime opening, drums, electric guitars, screaming vocals.
He shot up so fast he headbutted his pillow off the bed.

“IT’S A NEW DAY, BABYYYY—OW—dammit.”

His room was a shrine to sports and chaos.
Volleyball posters, dumbbells half-hidden under laundry, an entire collection of energy drinks lined like trophies.

He rolled out of bed, immediately tripped over his gym bag, then popped back up like physics was optional.

Downstairs, his mom was flipping tamagoyaki.

“Morning, Minato. Eat quickly—”
“NO TIME—”
“I haven’t even finished—”
“I BELIEVE IN YOU, MOM—”

He grabbed a rice ball off the counter, stuffed it into his mouth, and ran back upstairs to grab his shoes.

“NII-CHAN!” his little sister yelled from the hall.
“You forgot your homework!”

Minato froze mid-step.
“I did my homework?”
“No, I did your homework. Because you said teaching me math was the same as you doing it.”
“…yeah that sounds like me. Thank you, you absolute legend.”

He scooped her into a hug, spun her once, almost dropped her, then sprinted out the door.

Halfway down the street, he remembered,
“I STILL DON’T HAVE MY RIGHT SHOE—!!”

He ran back.
Grabbed it.
Ran again.

Neighbors watched him with the fond bewilderment usually reserved for hyperactive puppies.

Despite the chaos, Minato grinned the entire way.

“Damn… feels like today’s gonna be fun.”

...

Hikari’s morning began like a watercolor painting.

Soft hues.
Warm light.
No sharp edges.

Her alarm chimed like windchimes, barely loud enough to stir her.
She opened her eyes slowly, taking a moment to appreciate the pattern sunlight made on her ceiling.

Her cat, Mochi, sat on her chest.

“Mrrp.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll feed you. Spare me your wrath.”

She moved with gentle precision , her room tidy, her desk arranged neatly with sketchbooks, brushes, and mechanical pencils sorted by thickness.

Kettle on.
Tea brewing.
Steam curling like a small ghost from the cup.

She sipped quietly, flipping through yesterday’s doodles:
A chibi Minato spiking a volleyball
Ryusei stealing fries with devil horns
Akane laughing
Adam… looking away, hoodie up, expression unreadable

She touched the page lightly.
“…Need to fix the shading.”

Downstairs, her mother called,
“Hikari, breakfast!”

“I already ate, Mom!”

“Then pack some snacks for school!”
“I did already!”
“You’re too responsible!”
“That’s not my fault!!”

Hikari giggled softly.

She combed her hair, clipped the white-flower barrette she always wore when she wanted courage, packed extra pencils, and stepped outside into the crisp morning air.

The sky looked washed clean by last night’s breeze.

She whispered,
“I hope today’s a peaceful day…”

She had no idea peace wasn’t on the menu.

...

Ryusei’s morning began with him dying.
Or pretending to.

His sister kicked the door open so hard it rattled the posters.

“WAKE UP. YOU PROMISED. YOU PROMISED YOU’D GO TODAY.”

Ryusei lay sprawled on his bed, hair a weapon, blanket half on the floor.

He peeked one eye open.

“I promise a lot of things. I also break a lot of them.”

She marched over and threw a pillow at his face.

“You said you’d stop skipping! Teacher called Mom! Mom called Grandma! Grandma called me. I don’t mess with Grandma.”

Ryusei groaned into the pillow.

“Fine… fine. I’ll get up.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“Yesterday me is a liar. Today me is slightly more honest.”

His room was a chaos of:
hoodies
snack wrappers
two guitars
three broken headphone sets
and a suspiciously expensive-looking camera he never explained

He dragged himself into the bathroom, brushed his teeth while checking his phone, and considered skipping anyway.

But then he thought of yesterday.

Of Komamura.
Of Ellie’s face.
Of Adam barely standing, dirt in his eyes.

Ryusei wasn’t the type to say it out loud…
but he cared.

A lot.

He grabbed extra snacks, shrugged on his jacket, and muttered,

“If anyone asks, I came for the food in the cafeteria. Not the people.”

He stepped outside, hands in pockets, hoodie up despite the mild weather.

But his steps were quicker than usual.

Like he was…
actually looking forward to something.

...

Adam and Akane walked through the school gate , 

The bruise at his temple was faint now, but visible enough to make people stare before pretending they didn’t look.

Whispers flickered:

“Is that him?”
“He fought Komamura’s group, right?”
“No one knows the details…”
“I heard he punched four guys at once...”
“No, someone said a university student saved him...”

Adam ignored all of it.
He moved like a shadow that refused to be cornered.

Until—

“ADAAAM—!!”
Minato barreled toward him like a golden retriever in human form.

Adam grunted.
“You’re loud for no reason.”

“You’re ALIVE for a very good reason!” Minato said proudly. “And look, your face! I thought you’d show up like a Picasso painting.”

“…I’m fine.”

Hikari approached next, soft and warm. “Good morning… Adam-kun. Does it still hurt?”

“No.”

“It does,” she muttered gently, seeing right through him.

Ryusei showed up last, slouching beside them.
“You look like trash. Like… recyclable trash, but trash.”

Adam sighed. “Why do I even come here.”

“Because,” Minato declared, putting an arm around him, “you love us.”

Adam shoved him off.
“No. Wrong.”

“Denial,” Ryusei hummed. “Textbook.”

Hikari giggled.

And for a moment , just a moment,  Adam’s shoulders loosened.

...

As soon as they entered the classroom, their classmates fell into an unnatural hush.

People peered at Adam over notebook covers, pretending to be natural and failing miserably.

When he sat down, even the chairs around him shifted like students were trying to give him more space.

Minato leaned in and whispered,
“You’re like a celebrity but in an ‘I hope he doesn’t kill me’ kind of way.”

“I. Don’t. Care.”

Ryusei clicked his tongue. “You clearly do.”

Adam shot him a look that had a kill count of at least seven imaginary victims.

Akane sat beside him, frowning at the stiffness in his jaw.
She reached under the desk and gently tapped his hand with her finger.

Just once.

A little whisper of comfort.

His hand twitched.
But he didn’t pull away.

...

Halfway through homeroom, Minato finally asked the question they’d all been dancing around.

“Hey, Adam…”
He kept his voice low, unusually careful.
“How’re you… y’know… after everything yesterday?”

Hikari leaned closer, eyes worried.
“You can tell us, you know?”

Ryusei added quietly,
“Komamura looked… unhinged. Like he had some personal grudge.”

Akane held her breath.

Adam stared at his desk for a long, slow moment.
Then he said, with a heavy calm:

“It’s nothing. A simple beef. Stupid. Old. Not worth talking about.”

Minato frowned. “It didn’t look simple.”

“It is,” Adam said sharply.

The others exchanged glances.

Akane reached for him again — gently.

“Adam… if it’s about the past, you don’t have to hide it.”

For the first time, something flickered behind his eyes.
A shadow slipping into place.

He looked away.
“…The past doesn’t matter. I don’t care about Komamura. He’s just noise.”

Ryusei exhaled. “You say that, but the guy looked like he wanted your soul.”

“I don’t care what he wants.”
Adam’s voice went flat.
“I’m done with all of that.”

A pause.

A heavy one.

Because sometimes, when you say you’re done,
what you mean is—
the past just hasn’t reached you again. Yet.

Akane whispered, barely audible,
“…Ghosts always knock, Adam.”

He flinched so quietly only she noticed.

Before anyone could say more, the bell rang.

Homeroom dissolved into chatter again.

But the weight stayed in the room.

And all five of them felt it.

...

The announcement chime echoed through the school like a glitchy wind chime.

“All students participating in the Cultural Festival, please report to your assigned club rooms or activity spaces during the next period.”

A collective groan rose across the building.

“YES, FREE PERIOD!”
“NOOO, WORK PERIOD!”
“ART CLUB TAKES ALL THE GOOD BRUSHES!”
“Who stole the glitter glue last year? We still don’t know!”

Akane’s group  headed toward the multipurpose room to begin planning their art exhibit.

Minato marched in front like he was leading a parade.
Ryusei lagged behind like gravity personally hated him.
Hikari floated somewhere between them, the group’s tiny angel.
Akane walked beside Adam, trying to ignore the fact that their shoulders kept brushing, making her heart thump like a badly tuned drum.

On the third floor, as the five of them passed the student council room, the sliding door clicked open.

Three upperclassmen stepped out.

Crisp uniforms.
Polished badges.
The kind of posture only overachievers had.

The president — Kaito Itsukushima — tall, sharp-eyed, calm in a way that held authority without effort, paused mid-sentence when he saw Adam.

His gaze narrowed.
Not with malice.
With recognition.

As if a picture he hadn’t seen in years suddenly made sense.

The vice president whispered,
“Is that the guy from yesterday’s disturbance report?”

Kaito didn’t answer.

His eyes stayed on Adam a second too long.

Adam felt the stare like a spotlight but didn’t look back.

The student council members — especially Kaito — watched them walk past, something thoughtful forming behind those composed expressions.

A seed planted.

Because Kaito had heard something else, something few others knew:
The chairman of the school — the special guest coming tomorrow — was keeping an eye on a certain student.

And now Kaito understood why.

Or at least…
why he might.

As they walked away, Akane glanced at Adam.

“You felt that too, right?”

Adam’s jaw flexed. “Yeah.”

“Why’d the student council stare like that?” Ryusei whispered, suddenly nervous.

Minato shrugged. “Maybe they want him for a club. Volleyball team? Dodgeball? The underground fight ring?”

Hikari lightly smacked Minato’s arm. “That’s not funny.”

“It was a little funny,” Ryusei admitted.

Akane lowered her voice.
“It wasn’t a normal stare.”

Adam shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.
“Forget it.”

But Akane couldn’t.

Because that look wasn’t curious.
It wasn’t judgmental.
It wasn’t even suspicious.

It was… recognizing.

Like Adam was someone important.
Someone familiar.
Someone connected to something bigger than their ordinary school life.

As the reached the art room,
The art room was already messy before they even entered, canvases stacked against the wall, dried paint in rainbow streaks across the tables, a half-finished papier-mâché dragon glaring judgment at everyone.

Minato gasped dramatically.
“This place… is beautiful.”

Ryusei squinted.
“This place smells like expired glue.”

Hikari clasped her hands in excitement.
“This place feels like home!”

Adam walked in.
This place was… confusing.
He had no experience with… creativity.
His artistic portfolio consisted of:
– one stick figure from elementary school
– and a very angry doodle of a potato that one time he was bored in detention.

Akane leaned close.
“You okay?”

“…I don’t understand any of this.”

“You don’t have to. Just try something simple.”

“Define ‘simple.’”

“Painting. Sketching. Clay. Even helping with color mixing.”

Adam stared at her like she just spoke fluent Martian.
“Clay… like dirt?”

Minato overheard and immediately swooped in.
“YES! Make something! Make a sculpture of your rage!”

“No.”

“Make a statue of Akane!”

Akane choked. “MINATO—!!”

Adam turned red.
“Why would I—?! No. Absolutely not.”

Minato collapsed dramatically onto a stool.
“You two ruin all my fun.”

Ryusei leaned over a table, poking at a lump of pottery.
“This clay is too wet. Too… mushy. I feel like it’s judging me.”

Hikari laughed.
“That’s because you’re pressing it like you’re squishing a frog.”

Ryusei recoiled. “EW—WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!”

Hikari giggled harder.

Adam watched this chaos with a face that said:
“I am surrounded by children.”

Akane watched him watching the chaos…
and smiled.

The Planning Begins
Hikari spread out the materials.

“Okay! We need a theme for our exhibit.”

Ryusei raised his hand.
“Frogs.”

Minato sighed. “Please leave.”

Akane thought for a moment.
“What about… something emotional? Like ‘Seasons of Feelings’ or ‘Growing Up’?”

Hikari’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh, that’s beautiful!”

Minato clapped. “YES! Four seasons! Each of us chooses one emotion and one season!”

Ryusei groaned. “I call winter. Because I’m dead inside.”

Adam muttered, “Accurate.”

“And what about you, Adam?” Hikari asked sweetly.

“…Summer.”

Akane blinked. “Summer? Why?”

He shrugged, looking away.
“…It’s warm.”

Akane’s breath caught.

Warm.
He said warm.

Before she could read into it more, Minato rubbed his hands together like a mad scientist.
“Alright, creative geniuses! Let’s destroy this room— I MEAN — let’s begin.”

They were each given a small canvas to sketch ideas.

Adam stared at his for a full minute.

Just stared.

Akane peeked over, curious…
only to find it completely blank.

“Adam… you haven’t even touched the pencil.”

“I’m conceptualizing.”

“That’s not conceptualizing. That’s staring aggressively.”

“It’s part of the process.”

Minato leaned in.
“Dude. Draw a circle. Anyone can draw a circle.”

Adam drew a circle.

It was somehow… incredibly angry.

Ryusei burst into laughter.
“It looks like a mad potato!”

“IT’S A SUN,” Adam snapped.

Akane giggled softly.
“…Summer.”

He glared at her.
“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you,” she whispered, eyes soft.
“It’s cute.”

Adam froze.
His ears turned bright red.
He almost dropped the pencil.

Minato screamed dramatically.
“OH MY GOD — AKANE PRAISED HIM — HE’S MALFUNCTIONING!”

Hikari waved her hands.
“Minato, stop bullying!”

“THIS IS A SCIENTIFIC BREAKTHROUGH!”

Adam looked like he wanted to crawl into the clay bucket and die.

But he didn’t deny it.

He was malfunctioning.

Akane’s smile did that.

After the chaos settled, the five sat together on the floor, their canvases scattered around them like fallen leaves.

Minato was sketching a chaotic explosion of color.
Ryusei’s sketch looked vaguely like a frog in emotional crisis.
Hikari painted delicate petals, soft as her personality.
Akane drew a sunrise, gentle and hopeful.

Adam…
kept drawing suns.
All different shapes.
All slightly angry.

Ryusei whispered,
“Bro… are you okay?”

Minato added,
“You sure you didn’t take psychological damage yesterday?”

Adam grunted,
“Shut up.”

Akane reached over and quietly brushed a smear of yellow paint off his cheek.

“You’ll get the hang of it.”

He had no idea why her touch made something in his chest go warm and painfully soft…

But he didn’t move away.

Not this time.

The Bell rings..

Before they could clean up fully, the intercom crackled.

“Students, please remember:
Tomorrow we welcome a special guest.
The chairman himself will be attending the opening of the Sports & Cultural Festivals.”

The whole room froze.

Minato blinked. “The chairman!? As in the richest guy in the prefecture?”

Ryusei gasped. “The billionaire one, right? The mysterious one?”

Hikari whispered, “Kyoma Arashi… I read about him… he almost never appears publicly…”

Akane looked up.
“That’s strange… Why would someone like him care about a high school festival?”

Minato shrugged. “Maybe he’s bored?”

But Adam…

Adam went completely still.

Like a statue frozen mid-breath.

Akane noticed.
“Adam?”

He shook his head quickly.
“It’s nothing. 

After the art room chaos, the afternoon sun hung low, that kind of molten gold that made the school grounds shimmer like a dream.

The loudspeakers crackled again:

“Sports Festival participants, please gather on the field for trials.”

And with that, the students poured outside like a river of energy.

Minato stretched dramatically.
“Alright! Time to show off our athletic glory!”

Ryusei yawned.
“I’ll be sitting on the bleachers, cheering for moral support. Go team.”

Hikari smiled shyly.
“Adam, Akane and I… we signed up for badminton, remember? So we’ll be across the gym later.”

Akane nodded.
“We’ll come watch your race first, though.”

Adam blinked.
“You don’t have to.”

Minato laughed.
“Dude, you’re literally the main event.”

Adam frowned. “…Why?”

Ryusei patted his shoulder.
“Because you’re the new kid with a mysterious aura.
 People love that.”

“I hate this school.”

100 Meter Dash

The track was buzzing, lines painted fresh, flags fluttering, students crowding along the sides like it was some gladiator arena.

Eight runners stepped up to the starting line.

Minato bounced on his feet.
“This is it, Adam! Show me your POWER!”

“Stop yelling.”

“NEVER.”

Adam rolled his shoulders, stretching calmly.
Eyes half-lidded.
Expression bored.

A kid from the soccer club whispered loudly to his friends,
“Is that the guy who Beat Komamura ?”

Another added,
“I heard he’s a Transfer Student … like some kind of prodigy.”

Someone else murmured,
“Does he fight? Does he run? What’s his deal!?”

Akane overheard and bit her lip.
People really were watching him…

Hikari whispered,
“Is Adam… nervous?”

Akane shook her head slowly.
“Nervous people don’t look like that.”

Because Adam stood like pressure meant nothing.
Like he didn’t even realize people were staring.

The Whistle Blew

And Adam… moved.

Not fast.
Not quick.
He exploded forward.

The crowd gasped.
Even Minato shouted, “WHAT THE—ADAM!?”

He ran with a precision that didn’t match a high schooler.
His feet struck the track like they knew the rhythm better than he did.
His arms cut through the air, clean and ruthless.

He didn’t sprint.
He glided.

Like he’d done this a thousand times before.
Maybe he had.

He finished the 100 meters in a time that made the P.E. teacher choke on his stopwatch.

“…9.9 seconds— WHAT!? IS THIS THING BROKEN!?”

The students erupted.

“Bro—did he just break 10 seconds?!”
“Who IS this guy?!”
“No way he’s human!”
“Is he an athlete? A delinquent? 

Minato reached the finish line several seconds later, panting and screaming,
“ADAM—YOU—CHEATING—SPEED—DEMON!”

Adam didn’t celebrate.
Didn’t smirk.
Didn’t even look proud.

He just stood there, breathing normally.

Akane walked over slowly.
“You’re… you’re incredible…”

Adam rubbed the back of his neck.
“It’s nothing.”

Hikari shook her head.
“No, Adam. That wasn’t nothing. That was… wow.”

Ryusei yelled from the bleachers,
“BRO, WHAT ARE YOU?? A CAR ENGINE??”

Adam sighed.
“Why does everyone keep yelling today…”

But his ears were pink.

Just a little.

Akane noticed.

She always noticed.

Ryusei yelled again
"We need a Drug-test here!!"

The volleyball Trails Have begun!

The volleyball court was buzzing with even more people now, word of the 100m sprint had already spread like wildfire.

Minato adjusted his headband, grinning.
“Adam! Let’s take over the court next!”

“I don’t play volleyball.”

Minato threw an arm around him.
“Exactly! That’s what makes this fun!”

“That makes no sense.”

“Shhh. Believe.”

The boys’ volleyball captain eyed Adam up and down.
“You the guy who ran sub-10?”

Adam groaned.
“That wasn’t—look, it was—”

“Good. Join our side.”

Minato cheered.
“I LOVE THIS SCHOOL!”

The whistle blew, and the practice match began.

The first serve flew toward Adam.

He didn’t move.

The ball was fast, aimed at him like a test.

He raised one hand.

One. Hand.

And received it perfectly with a clean bump, sending it straight upward with textbook form.

Minato screamed,
“ADAM, WHAT THE HELL—YOU SAID YOU COULDN’T PLAY!”

“I… don’t know what I’m doing.”

The volleyball captain stared at him like he’d just seen a myth come to life.
“That wasn’t ‘not knowing.’ That was professional-level receive.”

Adam blinked.
“…What?”

The next ball came.

Adam jumped.

Not high.

Ridiculously high.

Gasps rippled through the gym.

He spiked the ball so hard it thumped into the floor on the other side with an echo.

Minato literally fell backwards.
“I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING — YOU’RE A SPORTS DEMON KING—!!”

The girls’ badminton team paused mid-practice to gawk.

Hikari whispered, “He’s… unbelievable…”

Akane shook her head, smiling softly,
“He keeps saying he’s average, but…”

A girl from class murmured,
“Is he secretly training for the Olympics?”

Another whispered,
“He could model. Or fight. Or run. Or everything.”

Akane’s stomach twisted.

She knew where admiration turned dangerous.

She knew how rumors were born.
How people could pull someone into the spotlight until the light burned them.

And Adam hated attention.

The praise.
The stares.
The questions.

They rattled him.

Like he wasn’t used to being watched.
Like he wanted to disappear.

Akane stepped closer, worried.
“Adam… are you okay?”

He hesitated.

Then muttered,
“…I don’t like people staring.”

Her heart pinched.

“Then I’ll stay close,” she whispered.
“So the stares feel less heavy.”

He looked at her, really looked.
Eyes softer than he meant them to be.

“…Thank you.”

Minato ran over, sweaty and chaotic.
“OKAY TEAM — WE ARE DEFINITELY WINNING THE VOLLEYBALL EVENT—”

Adam walked away.

“I’m going home.”

“WHAT!? DON’T RUN FROM YOUR DESTINY!”

And as Adam left the court room....

“Who is he…?”
“Is he really a transfer?”
“I heard he used to be someone big…”
“Where did he learn to move like that…?”

Akane watched him from the sidelines, her chest tight.

Because the more attention he got…

…the closer the shadows from his past would come.

And one of those shadows had a name:

Kyoma Arashi.

And he was arriving tomorrow.

...

Later that afternoon, the teacher’s lounge hummed with quiet chatter, coffee cups clinking and papers rustling.

Mr. Sakamoto, the homeroom teacher, swirled his tea and glanced at the other staff.

“Have you all heard?” He said, voice low but buzzing with excitement.
“The Shareholder of our school, Kyoma Arashi, will be attending the Cultural Festival tomorrow. Personally. He wants to see the students’ presentations.”

The room erupted in murmurs.

Mr. Fujimoto, the P.E. teacher, nearly dropped his clipboard.
“That’s the richest man in the country! Kyoma Arashi… the industrial tycoon?”

Mr. Sakamoto nodded.
“Yes. And he’s reportedly very… particular. He expects excellence.”

One of the junior teachers frowned.
“Excellence? Our kids are just high schoolers…”

“Oh, they’ll know soon enough,” Mr. Sakamoto said, his tone half amusement, half warning.
“And there’s… one more thing. He’s particularly interested in certain students. Rumor has it, some past ‘athletic prodigies’ might… catch his attention.”

A quiet stir ran through the lounge.
The mention of “past prodigies” caught everyone’s ears.

Mr. Fujimoto muttered, almost to himself,
“Someone’s going to be under a lot of pressure tomorrow…”

Mr. Sakamoto sipped his tea and looked knowingly toward the door.
“Sometimes, it’s not just about the performance. It’s about the person.”

And somewhere in her mind, she thought of the quiet transfer student who had already made waves — Adam.

Outside, Adam walked along the empty hallway, alone except for the echo of his own shoes.

The volleyball and 100-meter trials had already left whispers in the halls, even in the teacher’s lounge.

He didn’t want the attention.
Not the whispers.
Not the admiration.

Kyoma Arashi.

The name felt like a shadow at the edge of his mind.
He had heard it before. Seen it on business papers and news articles, always accompanied by photos of an older man with sharp eyes and a presence that demanded attention.

And… he knew this man.

Not personally, not yet. But the threads of the past stirred uncomfortably.
Kyoma Arashi was connected to his family, his history — a history he thought he had buried when he transferred schools.

He clenched his fists slightly.
Tomorrow wasn’t just about the Cultural or Sports Festivals.
It was about being seen.
Being tested.
And perhaps… having his past catch up with him.

Meanwhile, Akane caught up to him at the lockers.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“You okay? You looked… tense after practice.”

Adam shrugged, trying to appear casual.
“I’m fine. Just… tired. That’s all.”

She tilted her head, unconvinced.
“The way everyone was staring at you. You’re incredible… and I know you hate attention, but… people can’t help it.”

Adam exhaled quietly.
“They shouldn’t care. It’s just… sports. Just a festival.”

Akane stepped closer, placing a hand lightly on his arm.
“I know, but I get why you’d be wary. Just… promise me you won’t push yourself too hard. You’ve already done enough today.”

He gave her a half-smile, a quiet acknowledgment.
“…Thanks, Akane.”

And for a second, the hallway felt softer.
Safer.
Even though outside, the world, and shadows from the past, waited to remind him that nothing ever truly stayed buried.

Akane said "c'mon, Hikari and I will be in the gym watch us and maybe cheer us, okay ?."
He replies "Okay, fine."

The gym smelled faintly of polished wood and sweat, sunlight spilling in through the tall windows. The courts were marked and ready, and two nets had been set up for the badminton trials.

Akane and Hikari stepped onto the court, rackets in hand.

“Okay,” Akane said, bouncing lightly on her toes, “let’s see if all this practice pays off.”

Hikari adjusted her grip, smiling nervously.
“I… I’ll try not to hit you in the face.”

Akane laughed.
“You won’t. But I might hit you.”

From the sidelines, Adam leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, quietly observing. Minato and Ryusei lounged on the bleachers nearby, munching on snacks, making occasional commentary.

“Dude… she’s fast,” Minato whispered to Ryusei.
Ryusei shrugged.
“Sure, sure. But Adam’s watching. You know he’s judging every swing.”

Adam rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it.

Hikari served first, sending the shuttlecock arcing lightly over the net. Akane moved with fluid precision, returning it with a flick of her wrist. The shuttlecock zipped back and forth, the sound crisp and satisfying.

Hikari grinned, chasing after each shot.
“You’re… really good!”

Akane smirked.
“Not as good as you think. But thanks.”

Adam noticed how naturally Akane moved — her swings precise, her footwork sharp. And yet, she smiled every time she landed a good shot.

“She’s amazing,” he murmured quietly to Minato.

Minato leaned in, whispering,
“You think she’s good? Wait until you see Adam after this.”

Adam glared.
“I said I’m not participating.”

“You’ll end up on the court anyway,” Minato said with a grin. “It’s inevitable.”

Round after round, Akane and Hikari practiced, sweat starting to glisten on their foreheads. Their laughter filled the gym, bouncing off the walls as they playfully argued over points.

“Point to me!” Akane exclaimed after a tricky shot.
“No way! That was clearly mine!” Hikari protested, laughing.

Adam’s eyes narrowed, not out of annoyance, but curiosity. The way they moved together, reading each other, covering space, anticipating shots, reminded him of a familiar rhythm.

He murmured to himself,
“…Coordination like this… reminds me of home.”

After nearly an hour, both girls were panting, wiping sweat from their brows.

“I… I need water,” Hikari said, hands on knees.

Akane laughed, chest heaving,
“Yeah… me too. And maybe a nap after that.”

Adam stepped forward, finally.
“You guys did well. That was… solid.”

Hikari beamed.
“Really?”

Adam nodded slightly, hiding the faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Really.”

Minato and Ryusei cheered from the bleachers.
“Bravo! Round of applause for the future champions!”

Akane swatted at Minato.
“Shut up, you’re making it worse!”

Adam chuckled quietly, the sound soft but genuine.
For a fleeting moment, all the chaos of yesterday, the rumors, the pressure… it felt like it was just them, together, in a simple, quiet slice of normal.

Exhausted but satisfied, the group gathered their things.

Akane slung her bag over her shoulder.
“Well, that’s enough exercise for today. My legs feel like jelly.”

Hikari laughed, grabbing her water bottle.
“Mine too! I didn’t expect to get this tired.”

Adam adjusted himself.
“Come on. Let’s go.”

The five friends walked out together, the golden light of late afternoon bathing the school grounds. Their chatter was easy, teasing, and full of laughter — the kind that made the day feel lighter than it had any right to be.

As they parted ways, heading toward their homes, Adam and Akane walked side by side. She smiled up at him.

“Tomorrow’s going to be… something else.”

Adam shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah"

And with that, they turned corners, heading toward the warmth of home, tired but full, ready to face whatever the festival, and the shadows of their pasts, would throw at them.