Chapter 9:

Fitness test. (2/6)

Redo of a Romanceless Author’s Life Devoid of Love; Another Chance at Youth


Chapter 9. Fitness test. (2/6)

With the 100-meter sprints completed the boys grouped up at the start of the indoor track in preparation for the 12-minute run. Meanwhile, the girls sat on benches at the side watching and passing judgment on all the boys.

The teacher counted down to zero to signal the start. He also turned on some music to play in the background while we ran.

At a glance, I estimated the track to only be about 100 meters all the way around. I couldn’t say with certainty what it actually was without measuring it though.

I started running and quickly took the lead. Everyone’s thoughts were likely similar, ‘This idiot’s going to burn out in no time.’

Well, they weren’t wrong.

In about two laps I overlapped the slower ones in the group who weren’t taking it seriously. After four laps I overlapped the ones in the lead. They didn’t seem to be trying the hardest, but they were still putting in a decent amount. I appeared to be the only loser trying so hard and it made me feel awkward but I’d already decided to see what my limit was since I was competing against Rosa anyway.

By the sixth lap I gradually fell back into the zone I’d entered during the 100-meter dash. The world disappeared and all I could see was the empty path I needed to tread upon before me.

Though different to before by the time the 8th lap came and I was following the empty path someone stepped in front of it startling me awake. The world returned and I saw the lead group running together as a pack directly in front of me. They were spread out a bit from inside to outside. With them in my way, I was unable to pass. The bend came up and they moved toward the inner lane so I tailed behind them and waited for the upcoming straight to pass around the outer lane.

Things didn’t go as planned for me though. They dispersed around the bend preventing me from passing. It became immediately apparent they were blocking and hindering my path forward.

Annoying.

I frowned and stared at their backs from behind.

I simply wished to run freely without a care, but then this happened. Since it was like this it would result in me needing to expend more energy than usual to pass them. I could only do it through one of the outer lanes during the bends.

In preparation, I stayed on the outer lane instead of moving to the inner one and prepared to bolt past them. When the bend came up they moved inward as expected. I took the opportunity to pick up my pace and pass them while taking a racing line from the outer lane to the inner lane near the apex where I cleanly cut in front of them.

I put some distance between us then lowered my pace back to normal. After two laps I reentered the zone I’d been in and went into autopilot. I instinctively repeated the same maneuver to pass them every four laps until it was over.

When the music playing in the background came to a stop the teacher announced the 12-minute run was over. I made my way back over to the bench and laid down flat on top of it unwilling to move a muscle.

“Wow, how impressive, Mr. Sloth on the bench over here ran 32 laps in 12 minutes.”

If I didn’t have to deal with those troublemakers I probably could have squeezed out a few more. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.

“You don’t look very happy about your accomplishment though.”

“There were some nuisances on the track.”

“I noticed. They’re quite annoying.”

“I wasted a lot of unnecessary energy speeding up and slowing down because of them.”

“Are you making excuses in advance for when you lose to me?”

“No. A loss is a loss regardless of circumstances. No need for you to hold back for me.”

“Glad to hear it, just don’t cry when you lose, okay?”

“Oh yeah, just record mine as 28 or something. I’m pretty sure most pairs will bump theirs up by 1-2 laps.” From my memories, that sort of thing always happened.

“They’re bumping theirs up but you want to bump yours down? What’s with that?”

“No reason in particular. I just don’t want people expecting things out of me in the future should sporting events come up.” They’d forcefully push you into a bunch of sporting events back to back if they knew you were athletic after all. I absolutely wanted to avoid that.”

“Fine, fine. Whatever you say. I really didn’t expect the guys in our class to be so unmotivated to try.”

“There’s no reason for anyone to try so hard for these kinds of fitness tests after all. Since another student is recording results rather than a teacher they just need to help each other out a bit to get a decent result on paper.”

“I see. So people do that kind of thing.”

“You weren’t aware of that?”

“No, not at all. It’s my first time hearing about this.”

“It’s pretty common practice if you ask me.”

“Well then, I’ll give it my best for our little competition.”

“Go right ahead.”

Not too long after the girls began their 12-minute run. As expected, an even higher percentage of them were even lazier than the guys.

Some so much so they couldn’t even be bothered to run from the very start. They just started walking along the outer lane gossiping with one another.

There were 2-3 athletic ones that put in a good amount of effort, but none of them could keep up pace with Rosa who was maintaining an unexpectedly high pace.

Staring at her as she rounded the track, my eyes couldn’t help but wander down from her face to her body, then legs. She had great form and a well-rounded body. Her legs were quite long and slender. They sprung up with each stride forward.

I couldn’t help but think that she really did have nice legs. Her figure was one to be desired. Though I was the only one who had to pay attention to her because I was her partner, I noticed a lot of guys discreetly shooting glances at her and looking her up and down. Whenever she rounded the corner facing away from them they’d take the chance to turn their focus a bit higher than her legs. It was all but too obvious what they were thinking about.

They were just a bunch of dirty-minded high school brats.

With my body flat on the bench and my cheek on its side, I continued counting her laps going up one by one in my head. My eyes were drawn back up to her face and I noticed she’d occasionally peek at me from the corner of her eyes when passing by. It was likely to make sure I hadn’t fallen asleep and that I was properly keeping track of her laps. It seems she really didn’t want to lose.

Just what did she want my help with exactly?

My eyes remained glued to her, not leaving her for a second. Her hair bounced up and down with every step she took, but it didn’t seem to bother at all. For a high school girl, I admitted she was definitely a catch. It’d be hard to find a girl like her. The only issue was her grades I suppose. If she stopped staring at me and stared at the damn teacher in class presenting the lesson I was certain she’d do perfectly fine with her grades.

It was a bit irritating. What is this girl even doing? Unlike a failure of a human like me, she could achieve a lot in life if she took it more seriously. If that’s the case though, why didn’t that occur in my first run through high school?

If she’s got so much potential, I’m sure she could have definitely given me a run for my money during my first high school life. She probably could have even snatched up some of the scholarships I’d received for herself.

Then why don’t I have any recollection of her? Did she not try at all back then? Could it be that she spent all her time looking out the window not paying attention in class and nobody ever discovered her potential because of that?

What does this girl even want to become when she graduates from high school anyway?

A stay-at-home bride looking after her kids? Was that why she got so good at cooking?

The girl named Rosa Scarletyse was one I could hardly understand. What made her tick? What sort of secret was she hiding? For the first time in this month back in high school, I felt like I’d finally started to take an interest in someone.

If she put her mind to it, what could she really accomplish? I was curious. I knew next to nothing about her. She was a mystery I couldn’t quite understand.

Her composure was rather abnormal as well for a high school girl when I thought about it.

Could it be… she’s in a similar situation to me? Maybe she’s intentionally getting worse grades than me and she’s putting on an act.

Wait… what about the vampire thing I was joking about with her before? What if she was someone who became super famous in the future and she was testing me to see if I recognized the name or not? But… that wouldn’t really make sense, would it? If she was famous why would she be happy to find out I didn’t know her which would prove we’re both in the same situation?

Could it be the opposite of my initial assumption? Rather than famous… she was someone… infamous?

That might make a bit of sense.

Could it be infamous as in the type to kill me?

Then the first time she whispered in my ear, the reason it sounded so similar… was because she was the one who killed me?

If that’s the case, logically speaking… what would that make her?

A murderer? A cold-blooded killer? A psychopath?

An… assassin?

Assassin? Do those even exist in this day and age?

The more I thought it over the more ridiculous it sounded. But when I considered her athletic ability and how cooking was a skill she needed… the pieces started to fall into place.

You’re not seriously telling me my nosy neighbor is secretly an assassin, right?

What the hell?

There’s no way that’s correct.

Am I delusional or something?

But if she really was the one that stabbed me… it had to be true, right?

If it really was her, why did she do it to begin with? I don’t remember angering anyone to the point that they’d want to make an assassination attempt against my life.

Haaaah. Well… even if she was an assassin or something, does it really matter? If she wants to kill me, be my guest. It’s not like I’m particularly attached to life anyway.

It’d probably be best to forget all about this nonsense and just treat her as I always have. Whether she’s the assassin who killed me or not, at the end of the day she’s still Rosa, my nosy neighbor as far as I’m concerned.

Perhaps the reason she’s been staring at me and observing me this entire time is that she’s concerned about whether I’m aware of her identity as an assassin. If I thought of her as one, all of her actions suddenly started to line up and make sense.

Really now, it seems this nosy neighbor of mine is turning out to be someone I won’t be able to turn my eyes away from. This is truly unpleasant.

Unbeknownst to me, at some point in time, a slight smile crept onto my face. I might have been slightly excited about the sudden revelation of my nosy neighbor’s possible identity.

I had to admit, I had quite the bizarre taste.

If her identity is ever revealed to me naturally in time then so be it, if it isn’t, then that is fine too. I’ve never been the type to pry into the affairs of others and I have no intention to start doing so.