Assessment Two, Pt. 2

When Akira said the Sports Carnival would be the "best sports carnival ever in Japan," Hayami assumed he meant that his budget increase to the Sports department had come into effect, judging by the fact they booked out the friggin’ UPhone Stadium.

But there was more madness to go on top of that?!

It would be remiss to say Hayami was dreading what Akira was plotting.

As the students filed out of the buses and into the arena, the scale of it was nauseating. The massive Jumbotrons, the boom cameras, the fact that they were handed gourmet stadium snacks just for walking through the gates—it was too much.

"Ugh…" Hayami muttered. "W-Why do they h-have 4K cameras pointed at the tug-o-war…?”

It was a valid question. The stadium staff were operating boom cameras and drones as if this were the Olympics.

The stands were packed to capacity—parents, alumni, and, you guessed it, Perchance to Dream fans whose favorite husbando started and ended with the letters ‘A’.

The morning passed by as she numbly registered which house was ahead.

It was Hayami’s house—Itagi House—up by a little over five points. In other words, it was neck-and-neck.

Hayami and Hina were exchanging idle banter as they watched the last men’s events run.

The 100-meter.

Naturally, Akira participated. And even more naturally, he was annoying when he won. He tore through the sprint; it wasn’t even close. When he crossed the finish line, he didn't even look winded.

Hina gave Hayami a mischievous look. “Look at your boyfriend, Hay… must be proud~”

“Hina!”

Waving to the cheering onlookers, he jogged over to the sidelines where Hayami and Hina were stretching.

“Eleven seconds. Impressive, even by my standards,” he grinned. “Though I held back a little. I didn’t want to discourage the others.”

Hayami glared at him from the ground.

“Hopefully you will put on just as good a show. Or don’t, actually. Both would be equally entertaining.”

“I am n-not being shown up by someone w-who likes the smell of h-his own farts.”

He laughed.

Then he reached one arm out and ruffled her hair.

She choked on her own spit. “G-Guh?!”

“That’s the spirit,” he said with a sing-song tone. “More motivation to beat me, right?”

He flashed a shitface grin as he began his walk to the locker rooms.

At least, that’s what she thought. It turned out that would be the last anyone saw of him for over half an hour.

“Where do you think he is?” Hayami chuckled. “N-No way he’d bail.”

“Absolutely not. I’ve seen that face before. Specifically, when I look in the mirror before I prepare for my races, he’s planning something. I think he walked off to enact on that plan.”

As the women’s events were starting to get set up, a strange tension filled the stadium. The crowd was getting restless. They scanned the field, the benches, the VIP box.

No Akira in sight.

“Perhaps I was wrong,” Hina admitted, making sure her shoelaces were done properly. “Maybe he had an appointment involving his work.”

“ATTENTION PLEASE,” the stadium speakers boomed, the bass vibrating in Hayami’s chest. “WE WILL NOW TRANSITION TO THE WOMEN’S TRACK EVENTS. ALL RUNNERS TO THE STARTING BLOCKS.”

Hayami stood up. This was it.

She walked onto the tartan track.

“SATO HAYAMI, THE EVER-ELUSIVE FRIEND OF AKIRA, WILL BE RUNNING THIS EVENT, FOLKS! STAY TUNED FOR SOME INTENSE ACTION AS SHE FIGHTS TO KEEP ITAGI HOUSE IN THE LEAD!”

“Y-You see Akira-san in the s-stands, Hina?”

Hina looked toward the stands, only to find nothing. “Nope. Where’s that deadbeat Akira gone off to?”

“Two weeks ago, y-you worshipped that deadbeat.”

“I mean, two things can be true at once!”

Suddenly, the stadium lights cut out.

Murmurs turned into gasps.

“OH? WHAT IS THIS?!” the announcer cried. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?!”

SCREEEEE.

The sound of a microphone feedback loop tore through the air. It was instantly followed by the opening synth riff of a song that everyone in Japan knew by heart.

Hayami got goosebumps. ‘Was that… Boom-Boom Heart?!’

Pyrotechnics exploded from the center of the field. Pillars of red and gold sparks shot for the blue sky in the open-air arena.

The Jumbotrons flickered to life. But they weren't showing the runners anymore.

They were showing…

“No way,” Hayami whispered. “H-He didn't…”

A hidden platform rose from the center of the grass field.

The five members of Japan’s hottest boy band, wearing modified, sequined versions of the school’s PE uniform.

And in the center, holding a microphone, was Akira.

The arena went from cheers to absolute hysteria when he proceeded to blow them a kiss.

“Sorry for the disappearance! I know a lot of you were looking for me!” Akira addressed the crowd, his voice reverberating. “As you can see… I had a little costume change to attend to.”

“This next song isn’t for the fans! It’s for the strongest athletes in the school!” He pointed toward the starting line, where the girls running the event watched in awe. “For them!”

A spotlight blared down in front of the people lined up for the 400-meter.

“After all,” he continued, “we’re merely here to provide the background music for your victory!”

Akira winked at the camera, but Hayami knew exactly who he was signaling.

“Give us everything you’ve got!” he shouted, punching the air as the beat dropped. “GO, GIRLS, GO! GO, GIRLS, GO!”

Predictably, the crowd went absolutely feral, and that hysteria bled right into the contestants.

“Come on ladies, let’s give it our best! We must make P2D proud!”

“Akira, notice me!”

“You think they will react when someone finishes their race?!”

“They have to! They have to!”

“Boooo!!!”

Hayami paused. Boo?

She turned toward the impossible reaction coming from the crowd.

It mainly consisted of other students, not outsiders who just so happened to show up.

“You damn playboy cheat!! Hayami doesn’t deserve you!”

“Yeah! What she said!”

While Hayami was touched by the sentiment, she didn’t exactly know them personally either.

It also wasn’t the truth. It was just the lies the internet spread after Hina’s incident all those weeks ago.

What would become of him? What about the consequences?

She shook her head clear.

That didn’t matter right now. After all, the races were about to start.

Soon, girls from grades below them stepped up to the starting blocks.

The seniors—her and Hina—went last.

Despite Akira’s lack of connection with the school, Perchance to Dream didn’t let up and laid down all its might. Between every run, P2D filled the break with a number complete with choreography.

It would be remiss to say the spectacle became one of Japan’s largest livestreams ever.

Of course, Hina had her own runs as well, naturally coming first in each.

Historically, Itagi House had a bad habit of choking away their lead. By the time the third-year cohort was called up, the gap between first and second place had shrunk to a mere two points.

When Hayami and Hina finally got called up, needless to say, Hayami felt a little freaked out.

As the pair walked toward the 400-meter starting markers, the crowd's noise faded to a dull murmur. The sound of their spikes clicked against the tartan.

“Hey,” Hina said, staring at the finish line.

That snapped Hayami out of it. “Yeah?”

“Look, I… this is going to sound so corny, so don't laugh.” Hina scuffed her shoe against the track. “If you are stressed about this—and judging by the baggage under your eyes, I can tell you are—don’t be. No matter the outcome, I just want to say I’m proud that you got this far.”

Hayami blinked. Hina finally turned to look at her.

“You have to understand, Hayami. Before I started training you… I was just… grinding gears.”

She looked up.

“I was cynical. Stressed out of my mind. I didn’t even care about running. Or rather, I cared, but for all the wrong reasons. I did it because it was expected; because I didn’t want to throw away years of progress. I was just auto-piloting and needed high school out of the way.”

She clenched her fist.

“These past few weeks, you’ve given me more pride than I have felt in years. It made me take myself seriously again. You made me realize that what I do actually means something to somebody.”

Hina cleared her throat loudly, looking away.

“So don’t you dare waste that effort now.”

“Will try not to,” Hayami snickered.

“CALLING ONE, CALLING ALL, IT IS TIME FOR THE MAIN EVENT! IT IS TIME FOR THE WOMEN’S THIRD-YEAR 400-METER RACE!”

Being one of the last events of the night came with high expectations. P2D knew this well. As students got out of their seats and onto the grass, they sang their biggest hits yet.

“You’re the gun, you’re the best, don’t even ever think about the rest.”

The lyrics felt very targeted.

As Hina and Hayami stepped onto the plates and crouched into the starting blocks, the world narrowed down to a singular point.

Hayami looked at the track. Then she looked at Hina’s back in the lane next to her.

She felt the sweat come off her brow. She felt the heat of the Sun emblazoned on the track. She felt the eyes and ears of the world watching just what Akira’s accomplice was about to do next.

She felt the eyes of Uncle Kenji.

Suddenly, she seized. Her muscles ached. She couldn’t breathe. The finish line blurred in her vision. Her heart beat faster. Faster. Faster!

Pins in her fingers and toes, heart clawing out of her ribcage. Faster. Faster!

“...Hayami?” Hina asked.

But Hayami was no longer there.

“ON YOUR MARKS.”

Hayami lifted her hips. The smile vanished.

“SET.”

BANG.

Hayami ran. Of course she did.

It was instinct. For a while, she trailed behind Hina by three paces. Just three. She was in the slipstream.

But the ground didn’t feel even. The track felt like quicksand one second and concrete the next.

‘To be selfish is to be cursed.’

Scuff.

Her right sole clipped the track at an awkward angle.

“HAYAMI’S FADING!” the announcer roared.

The girl in Lane 2 shot past her. Then Lane 5.

Fourth.

Then fifth.

Then sixth place.

‘Don’t you dare waste this effort.’

Her knee buckled.

She clawed at the air, but there was nothing to hold onto.

SLAM.

She hit the red rubber track hard. She slid and grinded on her hands and knees. The skin on her palms shredded. The impact knocked the wind out of her.

“OOH! ITAGI HOUSE’S HAYAMI HAS GONE DOWN!”

Hayami lay there, cheek pressed against the hot rubber, smelling the ozone and her own blood.

‘I knew it.’

The pain in her knees was nothing compared to the rot in her chest.

‘I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.’

She would never get out of the cycle. Her grandmother died poor and crazy. Her uncle was a leech. And she was a joke. A side character who thought she could put on a pair of running shoes and pretend to be the protagonist of her own story.

She didn't deserve to win. She didn't deserve friends. She didn't deserve anything!

She closed her eyes and waited for Hina to cross the line, leaving her behind.

But the cheer never came.

Instead, a collective gasp sucked the air out of the stadium.

“OH?! WHAT IS THIS?!”

The announcer’s voice cracked.

“HINA HAS STOPPED DEAD IN HER TRACKS!”

Hayami’s eyes snapped open.

Fifty meters ahead, Hina—who had been leading the pack—had slammed on the brakes.

Her sneakers shrieked as she skidded to a violent halt.

“DESPITE HAVING THE LEAD, LANE 3’s STOPPED!”

The other runners flew past her. Hina didn't even look at them.

She was looking back at the girl on the ground.

Then Hina started walking backwards, towards her.

‘Look at you,’ the voice in her head hissed. ‘The pitiable child. The good-for-nothing Hayami. You dragged her down with you.’

Hina knelt down on the hot track, her knees scuffing the rubber, ignoring the gasps of the crowd.

Two school nurses in white vests rushed onto the field, medical kits in hand, ready to scoop Hayami onto a stretcher.

But Hina shot an arm out, stopping them in their tracks.

“Let her finish the race,” Hina commanded. “I know Hayami is made of tougher stuff than that.”

The head nurse scowled, trying to step around Hina’s arm. “I insist. You are breaking school policy, student. Move.”

Hina didn't move. Instead, she stared the nurse down.

The nurse hesitated. Eventually, she stepped back.

Hina turned her attention to Hayami.

“Y-You…” Hayami choked out. “You could have crossed the line… won the gold… and t-then come back to pick me up.”

Hina shook her head.

“Then our friendship wouldn’t mean anything.”

She reached out, grabbing Hayami’s bloodied, trembling hand.

“Get up, Hayami! Get… Up!”

Hayami grit her teeth. She squeezed Hina’s hand.

‘To be selfish is to be cursed.’

No.

‘To be loved is to be supported.’

Hayami groaned, her legs shaking violently, but she pushed against the ground. She rose. First to her knees, then, with Hina pulling her upward, to her feet.

The crowd was stunned into silence.

Hina looped Hayami’s arm over her shoulder.

“Right foot first,” Hina whispered.

“Right foot,” Hayami sobbed.

They began to walk.

It was slow.

And painful.

And for the most part, agonizingly long.

But there was progress. Soon, they walked past the 50-meter mark. Then past the 20-meter mark.

And then, with Hayami leaning her entire weight on Hina, the line was crossed.

Hina smiled, letting Hayami down gently. “Look, Hayami. We did it!”

Most people were cheering. Even Itagi House, which stood to lose after this stunt, could only clap in response.

Hayami smiled wearily. “Y-Yeah… we did…”

\\

Akira was a Star.

A Star’s job was to watch others from on-stage. A Star’s purpose is to frame the camera of other people’s lives in the context of the Star.

In his line of work, Stars like him belonged to everyone… which meant he belonged to no one.

If he fell, they could simply replace him. People would be sad for a while, but no heartbroken than watching a favorite TV character get killed off. It wasn’t personal.

Hayami had someone who would stop the world just to pick her up.

He looked at her—knees bloody, face streaked with tears, leaning on her friend.

She was a total mess. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

It was a shame the world couldn’t know how he truly felt about her.

LESSON TWO: RESPECTING OTHERS

CLEARED!