Chapter 029: Sports Festival Training! You've Worked Hard
The next morning, Hachiman did not go to the cafeteria. He sat at his desk with the small cake Sakayanagi had given him placed in front of him.
The cardboard box was already open, and the golden ribbon had been removed and placed aside; the bow still held its original shape, unraveled. He took the cake out of the box and set it on the table.
It was chocolate-flavored and barely larger than a palm, with a tiny candle stuck in the top. The candle was white, its wick unlit, standing quietly in the very center of the cake. Hachiman stared at that candle for two seconds. He didn't light it. He didn't know what to wish for. This was a sentence he had written in his diary in his dreams—now, that scene was becoming reality before his eyes: the same cake, the same candle, the same "not knowing what to wish for." He picked up the included small fork, cut a piece of cake, and put it in his mouth.
It was sweet.
Not a cheap, cloying sweetness, but a perfect one. The bitterness of the chocolate dissolved on the tip of his tongue, followed by the softness of the cream, and finally, the sweetness. The sugar level was just right, neither heavy nor bland. The sponge was fluffy, with an airy texture as if it had just come out of the oven.
'Hmm... overall, Sakayanagi's taste is indeed excellent.'
Hachiman cut another piece. This time he ate more slowly, letting the chocolate linger in his mouth a bit longer. He wondered where Sakayanagi had bought this cake. The pastry shop in the shopping district? The dessert counter on the third floor of the school cafeteria? Or was it ordered from outside? Advanced Nurturing High School managed external items very strictly; deliveries couldn't come in, but if one applied in advance, it wasn't completely impossible.
Since the person in charge of such matters wasn't on his side, Sakayanagi might have applied through Kiriyama-senpai's channel. Similarly, Sakayanagi was the daughter of the Chairman; such a thing probably wasn't difficult for her.
But if it was ordered from outside, he wouldn't be able to buy it himself.
Thinking this, Hachiman put the fork down and looked at the cake, of which a third had been consumed.
He had received many gifts: a fountain pen, glasses, a necklace, a gel pen, a diary, a cake, and even a book borrowed from the library. Everyone had given him something, and everyone had said "Happy Birthday." He couldn't just receive them and do nothing. He needed to return the favors. When their birthdays came, he would have to give them something too. This was basic social etiquette; he didn't want to be in debt.
But he didn't know what to give.
What should he give Karuizawa? Ichinose? Kushida? Matsushita? Kamuro? Sakayanagi?
He didn't know what Karuizawa liked, nor Ichinose, nor Kushida. When they gave him gifts, they probably thought about it for a long time. The process he was going through now was likely the same process they had experienced back then. Everyone's preferences were different, and everyone's personalities were different; he couldn't just brush everyone off with the same gift.
But was there one type of gift that everyone could accept?
Hachiman's gaze fell back on the cake. He cut another piece and put it in his mouth. It was still delicious. He made a mental note of this cake.
He felt that the next time he saw Sakayanagi, he could ask her where she bought it. Then, when their birthdays arrived, he wouldn't have to think so hard. Cake was a gift everyone could accept; it wouldn't go wrong, and it wouldn't seem too perfunctory. Plus, this cake was genuinely good. It was worth giving.
He finished the last piece, folded the paper box, and put it in the trash. Then he picked up the gel pen Kamuro had given him and twirled it between his fingers. The barrel was engraved with the four characters "Hikigaya Hachiman," gleaming slightly in the morning light.
He placed the pen next to the diary, stood up, and went to wash up.
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Meanwhile, in the girls' dormitory.
When Sakayanagi Arisu opened her eyes, it was already light outside. Sunlight squeezed through the gaps in the curtains, casting a thin golden line on the ceiling. She lay in bed without moving, staring at that golden line for a few seconds, and then sneezed.
Kamuro had already arrived at her room; after all, Sakayanagi often overslept, so she needed someone to wake her.
"Caught a cold?" Kamuro asked.
"No." Sakayanagi sat up, pulling the duvet to her waist. Her straight silver hair was slightly messy, a few strands falling beside her cheeks, making her small face appear even paler. She reached out to take a handkerchief from the nightstand and gently patted the tip of her nose.
"Then why did you sneeze?" Kamuro looked at her.
Sakayanagi thought for a moment, the corners of her mouth curling slightly. "Most likely, Hikigaya-kun is thinking of me."
Kamuro's expression froze for a moment. She stared at Sakayanagi for two seconds, almost blurting out the words "Are you still dreaming?"
However, she restrained herself.
But Sakayanagi had already gotten up, picked up her phone from the small desk, and opened her chat with Hachiman. Unfortunately, their conversation was stuck on several days ago.
In other words, Hikigaya had not replied to her. However, this wasn't a surprise to Sakayanagi. After all, many people would have given him gifts yesterday; if he replied to every single one, he wouldn't have slept at all.
Nevertheless, her sixth sense just now felt certain that Hikigaya-kun must be thinking about her.
"Hikigaya-kun." She whispered the name once.
Her voice was very low, low enough that only she could hear it. The sunlight outside was good, and the wind was good. It was another ordinary morning, no different from yesterday. But Sakayanagi felt that today seemed a bit brighter than yesterday.
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In the afternoon after school, Hachiman packed his things and prepared to go to the Student Council.
His bag was organized, textbooks stuffed into the desk, and notebook returned to the shelf. He picked up the gel pen on the desk—yes, the one Kamuro gave him—twirled it once between his fingers, and put it in his pocket. He had used this pen all day today; the writing was indeed smooth, much better than the ones he bought himself.
It seemed Kamuro was also a practical person.
When he walked out of the school building, the sunlight was no longer as piercing as at noon. The low sun dyed the entire walkway in a warm orange hue, and from the distant sports field came shouts and whistles, blending together intermittently.
Hachiman walked a few steps toward the Student Council office and then stopped.
Because people were training on the field.
It wasn't just one or two, but a crowd. People were running on the red track, someone was practicing pole vaulting by the sandpit, and several groups were stretching on the grass. Most were students in tracksuits, scattered in twos and threes, seemingly preparing for the Sports Festival. Hachiman's gaze swept across the field and stopped on the track.
Sakura Airi was running.
She was wearing a red tracksuit, her pink twin-tails swinging back and forth. Her pace wasn't fast, but it was steady, every step hitting the rhythm. The hair on her forehead was wet with
sweat, sticking to her skin, and her cheeks flushed with the specific glow of exercise. She had already run several laps—Hachiman noticed that as she passed him, her breathing was heavier than before, and her steps had slowed. But she didn't stop; she just slowed her speed and continued forward.
Hachiman stood there and watched for a while.
Sakura Airi. One of the quietest girls in Class D. She usually barely spoke in class, walked with her head down, and blushed when talking to others. To think she would proactively come to the field to train after school, and alone at that. No teammates, no one coaching her—just running by herself. She circled the track lap after lap; from where Hachiman stood, her path traced one circle after another.
Hachiman looked down at the mineral water in his hand. He had just bought it from a vending machine; it was unopened, with water droplets clinging to the bottle. He had intended to take it to the Student Council to drink, but now he watched Sakura run another lap, her steps even slower than before.
He thought for a moment, then took the bottle of water and walked toward the field.
When Sakura Airi finished her last lap, she leaned her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. Her legs felt weak, and her calf muscles were trembling slightly, but she didn't sit down; she just stood there supported by her knees.
While she was looking down, adjusting her breathing, something touched her face. It was cold.
"Wah—!"
She cried out and took a step back, nearly losing her balance. Then she saw the hand holding the mineral water, and following that hand up, she saw Hachiman's face.
Sakura's eyes widened. Her lips parted slightly, closed, and parted again. Her expression shifted from fright to surprise, and from surprise to the kind of blankness that occurs when the brain momentarily short-circuits. Her face was already flushed from running, and now it turned even redder, from her cheeks all the way to her ears.
"Hi-Hikigaya-kun?" Her voice trembled. "Wh-Why are you..."
"Passing by." Hachiman handed the water over. "Saw you run several laps. Have some water."
Sakura looked at the bottle, then at Hachiman. She rubbed her fingers against the side seam of her track pants before reaching out to take the bottle. When she took the water, her fingertips touched Hachiman's, and she pulled back quickly as if she had been burned. A layer of fine water droplets still clung to the bottle, feeling cool in her palm. She lowered her head, staring at the water for two seconds before reacting.
"Th-Thank you..." Her voice was so small it was almost inaudible.
Hachiman stood in front of her, hands in his pockets, watching her. Sakura's breathing hadn't fully settled, her chest heaving violently, but she seemed to notice his gaze and hurriedly pressed the water bottle against her face to hide her expression. Probably thinking the action was too stupid, she quickly lowered it, just keeping her head down, not daring to look at him.
Hachiman waited for a moment until her breathing steadied before speaking.
"Running alone?"
"Mhm." Sakura nodded. "I-I'm not very good at group training... when there are too many people, I'm... I don't really dare. So I came by myself."
As she spoke, she unscrewed the cap and took a small sip of water. She probably drank too fast and choked, coughing lightly twice. She quickly wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, her face turning even redder.
Hachiman said nothing. He leaned against the railing at the edge of the field, looking at the track.
Sakura stood beside him, stealing a glance at him. Her gaze stayed on his face for a second before quickly shifting away. She looked again, then shifted away again. The water bottle in her hand was squeezed slightly out of shape, the plastic making a faint crinkling sound.
"Hi-Hikigaya-kun," Sakura spoke.
"Yeah?"
"Are... Are you going to the Student Council?"
"Mhm." Hachiman nodded. "Passing by."
Sakura said "Oh," and looked down at the water bottle in her hand. The sun shone from the west, casting the two shadows onto the track, side-by-side and quiet.
Hachiman looked at Sakura. She looked more energetic today than usual. She was working hard. Not for anyone else, but for herself. Hachiman felt this was quite rare.
"Just do your best for the Sports Festival," Hachiman said. "Don't push yourself too hard."
Sakura looked up at him. Her lips moved as if she were hesitating to say something. Then she took a deep breath, gathering her courage.
"I-I want to improve." Her voice wasn't loud, but it was steadier than before. "Since coming to this school... I've met many people. Horikita-san, Karuizawa-san, Kushida-san... and Hikigaya-kun. Everyone has been so kind to me. So I also want to... I want to become a bit better. At least, I don't want to hold everyone back."
She kept looking at Hachiman as she said those words. Her clear eyes didn't dodge his gaze this time; there was only a kind of earnestness.
Hachiman was somewhat surprised. The Sakura Airi he knew was timid, lonely, and weak. But now she stood here, having just finished several laps with her legs still shaking, saying "I want to improve" in a very serious tone.
"That's good," Hachiman said. "Having a goal is better than not having one."
The corners of Sakura's mouth quirked up slightly. The smile was faint, but her eyes curved into beautiful crescents. Despite her rustic appearance, one could still discover that Sakura was actually very cute.
"What about Hikigaya-kun?" she asked. "For the Sports Festival... are you confident?"
Hachiman thought about it. "It's fine. Everything that needs to be arranged has been arranged; it should be no problem."
Sakura nodded and didn't ask further. She looked down at the water bottle. The droplets on the bottle had been warmed by her palm and were no longer cold. She suddenly remembered something and looked up again.
"Hikigaya-kun, you-you don't need to mind me. I'll be fine after a rest. The Student Council wo-work... you shouldn't be delayed."
"No rush," Hachiman said. "I'm free tonight. Need me to help you train?"
Sakura was stunned. Her eyes widened slightly, and her lips parted and closed. She looked like she really wanted to nod, but in the end, she shook her head.
"N-No thank you." Her voice was a bit tight. "You're already very busy... and Kushida-san is also helping me. Sh-She said she could accompany me for training in the evening."
Kushida.
Hachiman knew Kushida was a "little angel"—even if it was one face for show and another for cursing people behind their backs, she still acted the part in front of everyone and was willing to help. Since she was helping Sakura—and because her true nature had been exposed to Sakura and Horikita—she didn't need to hide, so she likely genuinely wanted to help.
"That's good then," Hachiman said.
He withdrew his gaze and scanned the field. Quite a few Class D students had indeed come, but not all of them. Some were practicing the relay, some the tug-of-war, and several groups on the grass were practicing the three-legged race. His gaze swept over those people but did not find Horikita Suzune.
He recalled the plot from the original work. During Sports Festival training, Horikita was paired with Onodera for the three-legged race. Onodera was slow, and Horikita was fast; the two couldn't coordinate. Horikita's approach wasn't the traditional one of coordinating with Onodera by slowing down, but rather: "You just need to run faster."
Right. It wasn't "Let's figure out a way together" or "I'll match your speed," but "You just need to run faster."
Does that even sound like something a human would say?
Because she was Horikita Suzune. She wasn't intentionally being inconsiderate; she truly didn't understand why someone couldn't run fast. To her, "run faster" was an executable command, as simple as "open the textbook to page twenty." She didn't know that some people just couldn't run fast no matter how hard they tried. She didn't know that not everyone was like her.
But now, she probably wouldn't have to experience that. Because she had changed. Perhaps she hadn't even realized it herself.
But Hachiman noticed it. The corners of his mouth also quirked up slightly.
Sakura stood nearby, drinking water with her head down. She finished the last sip, screwed on the cap, and looked up. Then her movements froze.
Hachiman was standing beside her, hands in his pockets, gazing into the distance. The setting sun shone from behind him, casting his profile in a warm gold. His short black hair swayed gently in the breeze, and the cowlick on his forehead stood up. His expression was very peaceful, his mouth carrying a faint arc, the kind one has when thinking of something good.
It wasn't the usual lazy look with half-lidded eyes. It was serious, relaxed, and carried a bit of a smile.
Sakura stared at that face for two seconds, and then her heart skipped a beat. She subconsciously reached into her pocket—it was empty. She hadn't brought her camera. She had only brought her water bottle and a towel for training today, leaving the camera in the dorm.
Sakura sighed in her heart. She really wanted to capture Hikigaya-kun's profile. The evening light was just right, the angle was just right, and his expression was just right. If she had brought her camera, she would surely have taken a great photo. But she hadn't. That's fate, she thought.
"What's wrong?" Hachiman noticed her gaze and turned his head.
Sakura quickly shook her head and looked away. "N-Nothing."
Her voice was even smaller than before, almost scattered by the wind. Hachiman glanced at her but didn't press.
"Then I'll head to the Student Council first." Hachiman straightened up from the railing and patted the non-existent dust off his sleeve.
"Mhm." Sakura nodded. "Th-Thank you for the water."
Hachiman waved his hand and turned toward the Student Council office. After walking a few steps, he suddenly remembered something, stopped, and looked back.
"Sakura."
Sakura looked up.
"Keep it up," Hachiman said.
Then he turned and continued forward. Sakura stood there, watching his back. The setting sun stretched his shadow very long, casting it on the red track as it followed him quietly. She still held the mineral water bottle; there were no more droplets on it, but a bit of warmth remained where his fingers had touched it.
She looked down at the bottle. "Keep it up," she repeated the words softly. Then she opened the cap and took another sip. The water wasn't cold anymore, but she felt it was just right.
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On the other side, Hachiman arrived at the Student Council office.
He pushed open the door. The room was empty except for one person. Nagumo Miyabi was sitting at the Vice President's workstation, legs propped on the desk, holding a small pair of nail clippers and focusing intently on trimming his nails. A small mirror, palm-sized with a silver frame, lay flat on the desk, face up, reflecting his expression as he trimmed. He used the clippers to round the edges of his nails, then turned his hand over to look, compared it next to the mirror, and finally nodded with satisfaction.
Hachiman stood at the door, watching the scene.
In the original work, Nagumo Miyabi was an ambitious person who wanted to prove his strength by controlling the entire school. And now he was sitting there, legs up, clipping his nails and looking in the mirror. Like a little girl.
In his mind, Hachiman compared Nagumo to Koenji Rokusuke. Koenji also cared about his image, but his was absolute confidence—he looked in the mirror because "I am beautiful, I need to confirm if my beauty has changed." Nagumo's was based on his own aesthetics. He also felt he looked good, but he needed to confirm it through a mirror. It wasn't that he didn't believe it; he just needed to see it.
Two people doing the same thing, but the underlying logic was completely different.
"Nagumo-senpai," Hachiman spoke.
Nagumo looked up, saw Hachiman, took his legs off the desk, and swept the nail clippers and small mirror into a drawer.
"Yo, Hikigaya-kouhai." Nagumo leaned back in his chair, hands clasped on the desk, a confident smile on his face. "How come you came alone today? Where's Ichinose-kouhai? Kushida-kouhai? Karuizawa-kouhai?"
"They haven't arrived yet." Hachiman walked to his workstation and sat down. "I came first since it was on the way."
"On the way?" Nagumo raised an eyebrow. "From the school building to the Student Council, which path takes you 'on the way' to the sports field?"
Hachiman glanced at him. Nagumo smiled and didn't press further. He picked up a file from the desk and flipped it open, his eyes falling on it, but he clearly wasn't reading.
"How are the Sports Festival preparations going? As a first-year, if there's anything you don't understand, you can ask me."
Hachiman leaned back in his chair and thought. He did have a question for Nagumo, not about rules, but about experience.
"How did Senpai fight in last year's Sports Festival?"
Nagumo's finger paused on the document. He looked up at Hachiman, a flash of surprise in his eyes. He probably didn't expect such a question.
"Last year," Nagumo put the file down, "it was also a Red vs. White competition. The mandatory events were the same as this year, but the recommended events were slightly different. Last year, we..."
He paused for a moment. "We fought very hard last year. Class A and Class C were the Red Team, and Class B and Class D were the White Team. The White Team won; we added points and stabilized our position in Class A."
"And the Red Team?" Hachiman asked.
Nagumo said confidently, "The Red Team naturally lost. The second-year Class A at that time lost points due to a decision error, closing the distance between them and my class. You could say that Sports Festival was basically the foundation for the second-year Class A at the time falling from their spot."
Hachiman didn't respond. If Nagumo won, then the loser was Kiriyama Ikuto—the taciturn Vice President currently sitting in the Student Council office. As it stood, Kiriyama-senpai had also fallen from Class A, just like Katsuragi. But he hadn't given up and was still climbing back up.
However, if there was no external influence, he would likely soon become Nagumo's lackey, just like in the original work.
Nagumo leaned back, his gaze on the ceiling. "Last year's Sports Festival, our White Team won by a narrow margin. The final event was the 1200-meter relay, and the White Team led the
Red Team by less than ten points. If we lost the relay, the entire White Team would have lost two hundred points." He withdrew his gaze and looked at Hachiman. "In the relay, I ran the final leg."
Hachiman looked at him without speaking.
"We won," Nagumo said. "We led by less than half a second. Though it was a pity that Horikita-senpai at the time wasn't the final leg."
Hachiman nodded. This guy Nagumo was just like the original work; after unifying the second-years, he felt he had no opponents and wanted to clash with the third-year student council president, Horikita Manabu, who was called the most excellent president. He felt only Horikita Manabu was worthy of being his opponent. He wanted to fight him.
But if he really wanted a fight and needed opponents, Nagumo should be looking at their first-year group. Whether it was Koenji, Ayanokouji, or even Shibata, Sudo, or Class B's Kito Hayato, they could all give Nagumo a run for his money.
However, Hachiman was in a good mood today and didn't plan to attack him. "Understood," Hachiman said. "Thanks, Senpai."
Nagumo waved his hand in acknowledgement.
"One more thing," Hachiman said. "Please see to it that the Red Team of our grade's Red-White competition wins, Senpai."
The smile on Nagumo's face froze for a second. Because the words "please see to it" coming from Hikigaya-kouhai never meant a polite request.
It was an undisguised demand for him to manipulate the scores of the second-year Red and White teams—to let second-year Class A and Class C get high scores and let second-year Class D get low scores. He could do it, but it was troublesome. For example, arranging the participants and accurately calculating the points for each event. Moreover, it couldn't be too obvious; people couldn't think it was intentional.
"You certainly know how to order people around." Nagumo leaned back.
Hachiman looked at him, not denying it.
Nagumo sighed. He took a black point card out of a drawer and pushed it toward Hachiman.
"It's from third-year Class C. They were bribed by second-year Class B to throw matches in the Sports Festival. These are the points they received, and they set a portion aside. Third-year Class C asked me to pass this to you."
Hachiman looked at the point card but didn't reach for it. When he had made the suggestion, he hadn't asked for any "kickback."
"Why would they give it to me?" Hachiman asked directly.
"Because they're afraid of you," Nagumo said bluntly. "After hearing what you said at the opening ceremony, third-year Class C has been investigating your background. The more they found out, the more afraid they became. After all, a student council vice president who successfully moved up a class in one semester... So they asked me to give this to you as 'protection money.'"
'Is that so?'
Hachiman leaned back, arms crossed. "This makes it sound like I'm collecting protection fees."
"Aren't you?" Nagumo looked at him with a complex gaze.
"No." Hachiman's tone was calm.
Nagumo stared at him for two seconds, thinking this guy was truly thick-skinned, just like Sakayanagi-kouhai. Who was the one who wanted to extort 5 million points from him back then? Wasn't it you?
Just then, Nagumo sized Hachiman up. "Why aren't you wearing glasses today?"
Hachiman touched the bridge of his nose. He indeed wasn't wearing them today. Those thin black-framed glasses given by Chabashira-sensei—he had worn them for one day and then put them away. It wasn't that he didn't like them; he just wasn't used to them. After putting on the glasses, he always felt the eyes behind the lenses weren't his own. They were too energetic, too reliable, and too much like the kind of person he wanted to escape from being.
"I wore them then to coordinate with the senpais," Hachiman said. "I don't need them now, obviously."
Nagumo's finger tapped lightly on the desk. He remembered that Asahina was also there during last week's opening ceremony. She had stood beside him and taken a photo of Hachiman. At that time, Hachiman was wearing glasses, and his whole person looked much more energetic. So even if he intended to speak ill of Hikigaya, Hachiman's first impression had passed with Asahina, so the weight of his badmouthing dropped instantly.
'Truly annoying.'
However, what set Nagumo at ease was that over these days, Asahina hadn't gone out of her way to contact Hikigaya-kouhai. That was a good thing. As for why Hikigaya-kouhai wore glasses, it didn't matter. As long as Asahina wasn't interested in him, it was fine.
'Yeah.'
Nagumo confirmed it in his mind again. Asahina had only taken a photo, only looked a few times, and only said "He's quite interesting." That was all. It was no big deal. After all, she was his childhood friend; if she became interested just because she saw a handsome guy, then she wouldn't be the person he specifically chose to eventually come back to if he didn't end up with other girls.
Soon, because Hachiman and Nagumo didn't have many topics to discuss, the office fell silent. Both began preparing for work. Not long after, the door was pushed open again.
Horikita Manabu walked in. But not alone; Tachibana Akane followed half a step behind him, carrying a stack of documents with a brisk pace. Horikita Manabu sat at the President's seat. Tachibana placed the documents on his desk and stepped aside.
"Is everyone here?" Horikita Manabu's gaze swept across the office.
"We're still missing the first-years," Nagumo said.
As soon as he finished speaking, footsteps came from the door. Ichinose, Kushida, and Karuizawa arrived together. Hachiman's eyes met theirs briefly, but they knew the President had arrived, so they could only sit at their desks honestly and start working.
And so, amid the busyness... the Sports Festival was about to begin.
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