Your Stupid Games

“Ha… Ha…”

When Hayami finds the school board member who decided that summer was as good a time as any to hold the School’s Sports Carnival, she is going to strangle them. She’ll likely fail, and her fingers would probably bruise, but it was the sentiment that mattered.

For an indoor cat like Hayami, whose primary form of exercise was aggressive thumb-tapping during gacha pulls, this was hell. Especially if she was running track and field during P.E.

How did kids in Southeast Asia live through this kind of heat?

She felt a breeze flutter her damp hair. A shadow fell over her, blocking the brutal sun, before immediately moving past her.

She looked up.

It only made her grit her teeth harder.

“You can do it, Hayami! Just one lap to go.”

Akira was jogging beside her. Actually, no—he was running backwards beside her and matching her with insulting ease.

“I-I am…” she wheezed, “I am t-trying! I just… I need a minute.”

“You know, for someone who’s basically been sedentary her whole life, this is pretty impressive!”

“Holding… Lesson Two… as a reward…” Hayami gasped, forcing her legs to move, “tends to do that… to a hopeless girl!”

“I mean, it’s working! Want me to run the final stretch with you? You know, to make sure you don’t faint?”

Hayami, being an easily riled girl, felt her cheeks flush.

“You make for g-good enough motivation ‘cuz I h-hate your guts already.”

Akira laughed with carefree joy. “You can be so adorably pathetic sometimes…”

FLASH!

Hayami flinched, nearly tripping over her own feet.

A white, blinding light shone against them both. It came from over the chain link fence that surrounded the field.

They both turned.

“...Paparazzi,” Akira correctly identified. He looked at her, finding she was no different than a deer in headlights. “Hayami, get behind me.”

Her heart fluttered. “W-Wha…?”

“It will ruin their shot; just get behind me.”

“But, won’t it be even m-more incriminating?”

“Stop making things difficult!” he shouted in a way that Hayami really shouldn’t have liked.

“Okayokaysorry!”

Wondering why she felt a bit of resistance to his request, when before she would have folded like a wet towel, Hayami did as she was told.

Unbelievably, the guy was still taking photos of them shamelessly before—

“Oi!” The school security guard blew his whistle and sprinted straight towards him. That was what made him finally give it up.

As they saw him flee for the streets, Hayami heard Akira sigh.

“Damn paparazzi stalking high schoolers. Can’t they just let kids enjoy their youth? The horror…”

Hayami choked out a laugh. “A h-horror of your own making.”

“Oh, shush you. Finish the lap.”

Akira jogged ahead to grab the water bottles, leaving Hayami alone on the track.

Her gaze drifted to the sidelines as she waited for her heart rate to return to double digits.

The rest of the class was clustered in the shade and moaning about the heat. Normally, a sight like this shouldn’t faze her.

Except there was one person who was missing.

Hina was on the grass by herself.

No friends at her side, and certainly no Mika holding a towel for her. No, she was in the shade with the rest of the class.

Hina was doing shuttle runs… for her own benefit.

Her thighs thundered, slamming against the track with a kind of ferocity usually reserved for those training for the Olympics.

It was back and forth, back and forth, an endless, rhythmic repetition.

Only, there was not really much glory to be gained from a high school sports carnival. To be quite honest… Hayami was starting to feel bad for her.

‘She deserved this,’ a vindictive voice whispered in Hayami’s head. ‘She made my life a living hell.’

But as Hayami watched Hina stumble, catch herself, and immediately force herself into another sprint… for some reason, her heart ached.

Then Hayami felt her phone, in her pocket, buzz.

She took it out and immediately regretted everything.

“Photo of Akira from Perchance to Dream training with a female friend! Just pals or something more???”

Hayami groaned, putting it away.

“Akira…”

“Yes?”

“What m-makes you think I-I can r-run for my team at all?”

“Because it’d be entertaining.”

“Stop t-teasing me!”

Akira put a finger on his chin for a moment, before replying, “Well, I can tell you have a lot of hunger. It’s like you have a lot to prove, and you know it. You just didn’t have anyone who pushed you to see that yet. If I didn’t see that potential in you in the first place… I’d probably just have given you money to shut you up.”

“You’re p-pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

“Well, that’s for you to decide. Now stop stalling!”

“I’m not stall—”

Too late. He’d already taken off.

She looked at Akira’s retreating form.

‘Grr… this boy!!’

She decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and ran after him.

\\

Like most days after their sudden introductions to each other, they convened to practice Hayami’s social skills during school lunches. Just because she passed Lesson One, it didn’t mean she still needed to work on soft skills as well.

When Akira was free, of course.

Being an idol, he tended to be occupied with proving his value as a company asset.

The pair also figured out quickly that, for both their sakes, it was best not to show themselves together during lunchtime.

And in its place was this excursion.

So today, in particular, was something Hayami was anticipating for a long time. Having improved Hayami’s social skills, Akira deemed her worthy of his second lesson.

Finally.

“Man…” Akira moaned. “Public high schools are a joke…”

Hayami bristled. “Can you please walk faster? Some first-year is going to see us!”

“We’ll be fine.”

Hayami merely pouted.

They walked into a hallway where no one had any reason to be, other than to get extra equipment, and slipped into the supply closet at the end. Indeed, they made this storage room their sanctuary.

Since yesterday’s episode, the privacy was needed now more than ever.

They shut the door behind them.

“So… you hit your 50/50?” Akira asked.

The app booted to life on Hayami’s phone, accompanied by its soaring soundtrack. “...What do you think?”

“I mean, Prince Rudolph is honestly not a bad character to roll for—”

“He reminds me too much of you. Therefore, he’s bad.”

“I wasn’t aware he was a conniving opportunist.”

“He’s a goody two-shoes who the writers think can do no wrong.”

“Same thing.”

Inexplicably, Hayami’s phone started buzzing.

“La la la~ Cherry blossoms bloom in my heart, where the starsss align~”

“Holy crap, Kindred Oasis’ main theme is your ringtone?” Akira laughed.

“I don’t w-wanna take crap from a guy who uses the default ‘Marimba’ ringtone unironically.”

“The paparazzi will use anything against you. Next thing you know, people will criticize my taste in music and my manager won’t be there to hold me back from bashing their head in.”

Hayami looked at the Caller ID. Her face went pale.

[TSUMUGI - THE FINAL BOSS]

“Well… it’s my sister. You sure you want to be here for this?”

“Of course. What’s the worst that can happen?”

\\

“...And if you lay a finger on my idiot sister, if you drag her into showbiz in any way, or play your stupid games with her heart because you think you’re hot shit, I will fly back there and bury you, and Rocketblast, under so much international corporate litigation you won't see the sun until you’re forty. Do you understand?”

“I-I-I get it, lady! Your younger sister has all the power here, really!”

The sight of Akira panicking and genuinely being scared was one Hayami could get used to.

“Good,” her sister concluded.

Sato Tsumugi was the definition of an older sister. She passed the bar exam her first go. She was also in the running for being president of her law society.

Eventually—if she were to be believed—she would take all she’d learned in international corporate law and bring it back to the East Asian region.

Tsumugi would never admit it, but Hayami was sure it was to keep a closer eye on her.

“Anyway…” Tsumugi sighed, the well of pressure dissipating in an instant, “that video of you and that girl… you sure you aren’t a skinwalker who replaced my antisocial sis?”

Hayami cringed. Her life didn’t really have any privacy left.

“Akira’s h-helping a lot with… how I f-feel about myself.”

Akira chuckled. “That video did wonders for Rocketblast’s stocks, by the way. It’s kinda scary how good a show she puts on.”

“There’s also another photo posted an hour ago… with you and Akira running,” Tsumugi said. “That angle makes it very suspect, sis.”

That damn paparazzi still kept that photo?

“P-Pressure’s on to keep m-my streak alive, I guess…” Hayami muttered. “Before Akira’s f-fans skin me alive, that is.”

“I can make them behave for you,” he said, smirking.

“Yeah, you s-say that stuff because you’re not a girl!”

Tsumugi was silent for a while while the pair exchanged even more intellectually incomprehensible jabs, before saying, “Hayami? You don't sound happy.”

“I don’t care about the win. That’s… that’s not the point. It just feels wrong. Y-You remember how we used to be? You u-used to watch us run around the park together. After all that… crushing her like this makes me feel sick.”

“I remember,” Tsumugi sighed. “Which makes her deserve this outcome all the more.”

Hayami shifted, knowing that when her sister made up her mind, she’d follow through till the end.

“Hayami,” the voice on the other side said.

“Y-Yeah?”

Oh no… her sister usually used that voice when she was about to say something horrible.

“It’s about Uncle.”

“U-Uncle… Kenji?”

“Look, I know he’s said verbally and over text that he didn’t want to have anything to do with us anymore, but apparently he’s moving back to Osaka.”

“I thought h-he wanted to stay away from the bad feng-shui?”

“Well, I can only repeat what I’ve heard from the rest of the family.”

Akira raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have access to a family group chat?”

“T-There is one.”

Akira got the picture.

Tsumugi sighed very audibly on the line. “I just wanted to give you a heads up, OK?”

“Onee-chan, you’ve d-done more than enough for me. Thank you for calling. Y-You’re gonna crush the other candidate for president, don’t worry.”

“God, I need it. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The call ended.

Hayami stared at her phone. ‘Uncle Kenji didn’t want anything to do with me for taking care of grandma. It was her money to use, anyway…’

She didn't notice Akira moving until a heavy book slammed onto the table, making her jump and definitely not say ‘eep.’

Akira held his binder in contemplation, his expression gravely serious.

“We will deal with Kenji when he arrives Right now, you need to focus on what you can control," he said confident. "Now, about your remark about Hina to your sister…"

He smiled.

"It ties in to what I was already about to suggest.”

He opened the binder and held the title of the page in the air. 

‘LESSON 2: RESPECTING OTHERS’

“I thought we were done with Hina,” Hayami mumbled.

“We dealt with the symptoms. Now we address the cause.”

Akira pulled out his phone. It displayed the video of the cafeteria fight.

Hayami honestly didn’t know what to think. She thought for sure Akira would just focus on the course he developed, and nothing else.

So why’s he tailoring all his hard work to suit her, rather menial, circumstances?

“Look at the footage,” he commanded.

He scrubbed the video to the moment Mika walked away from Hina.

“Look at Hina’s face right… here.” He paused it. “How can you not interpret it any other way than a selfish emotion? That she’s got what’s coming to her?”

It was quite the ugly mugshot. What could it be other than pity for herself?

“W-What are you saying?” Hayami questioned.

He tapped the screen.

“You feel guilty over her, even though she tormented you for god knows how long. That sort of emotion doesn’t come from nowhere.”

“It isn’t,” Hayami whispered. “And y-yeah, she deserves to be taken down a peg.”

Hayami clenched her fists.

“But… I don’t want to leave it like this. Nobody deserves to be alone. N-Not even her.”

Hayami breathed out.

“I guess… I want to fix this for myself.”

He looked at her with genuine, unmasked confusion.

“Help me understand.”

“W-What?”

His dark eyes searched her face.

“Is it pity? Or are you just a masochist?”

She stared at the dusty scratching on the table.

“If I l-leave her there,” Hayami said, struggling to find the words, “then I’m just doing exactly what she did to me.”

She looked up at him. Behind the thick glasses, her eyes were clear.

“I d-don’t want to be like her, Akira. If I abandon her n-now to make myself feel vindicated… aren't I just playing the same game?”

She tapped her chest.

“I want to be the kind of person who reaches out. Not because she deserves it. But because… that’s who I want to see when I look in the mirror. I w-want to choose kindness not for her—b-but for me. Because that’s the k-kind of person I promised myself I’d be.”

Akira smiled despite himself.

“You possess a nobility that is frankly inconvenient for my cynicism. But… I suppose I can work with it. Yes… a Queen doesn't kick a dog; she feeds it. Helping someone like Hina will be the ultimate power move.”

“Y-You are such an asshole. But… I do w-want to help her.”

Akira slammed the binder shut.

“Then you have to respect Hina, not fear her. Respect is different. Once you respect someone, then the irrationality is gone. You can view her through a new lens.”

He looked at her expectantly.

Hayami looked down at her hands. She thought back to the end of elementary school.

“It… it h-happened when I started g-getting into games,” she admitted quietly. “When w-we moved up to middle school.”

“Go on.”

“I got o-obsessed with Kindred. I s-started wearing glasses. I s-stopped caring about f-fashion. I felt… uncool. I l-looked at Hina, who was becoming popular and pretty, and I thought…”

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I thought, ‘She doesn't want to be seen with a loser like me.’ So I s-stopped sitting with her.”

“Who rejected who first?” Akira sat back, crossing his arms. “To her, a video game was better than her.”

“I…”

He tapped his chin.

“Now, we need a scenario where she cannot run away. When’s the Sports Carnival?”

“W-What are you suggesting?!”

“Something we need Hina to sign off on.”

Akira smiled.

“You’re joining her in the 400-meter race.”