{Sato-san and the Physical Education Class}

The boys’ P.E. class was basketball.

A casual game, more like playtime, began on the court, and the gym was filled with the sound of dribbling and the teacher’s whistle. In a corner, waiting for our turn, we pretended to cheer for the game while watching outside.

The door leading to the field was left open, and the breeze carried the scent of earth and greenery.

On the field surrounded by tall trees, the girls’ P.E. class was taking place.

Unfortunately, they were running a marathon, but watching the girls in their T-shirts running was quite enjoyable.

Even though I felt a bit guilty, we boys gathered at the entrance to watch the girls and chatted about trivial things.

We talked about which girl’s style was best, whose hair looked nice, how even if a cute girl looked desperate while running, she was still cute, but if her running form wasn’t great, it was a turn-off. We discussed these things.

But while chatting with the others, my eyes kept landing on her.

Sato-san was running on the field.

She was lagging far behind the leading group, stumbling and running at the very back.

Even from this distance, I could see her flushed, desperate face. Her hair tied in a single ponytail swayed like a tail as she awkwardly continued running.

Even though she always plays tag with the other kids during lunch break, it’s no surprise she’s so slow. She’s probably always the one tagged.

Sato-san’s arm movements were poor, and her upper body didn’t coordinate with her legs.

I could almost hear her ragged breathing, and it was making me feel breathless.

“Hey, look at that.”

One of the boys, who had also been watching outside, spoke up.

He pointed to the last girl in the line, Sato-san, and I was startled.

“Sato’s always last, huh?”

Everyone immediately looked at her and burst into laughter.

Her awkward running style was indeed comical. She flailed her arms around uselessly while her legs didn’t move properly, making her look silly. It probably made her even more tired.

But I didn’t feel like laughing.

I silently watched her.

There are many cute girls.

There are many girls whose running I find admirable.

Yet my eyes were drawn to Sato-san. I kept tracking her with my gaze. It makes sense that she would catch my eye, given how conspicuous her slow, trailing figure was.

While everyone laughed at her, I didn’t. I felt sympathy.

I understood that she was giving it her all and running as hard as she could. It was clear to me, and that’s why I felt sympathy.

I thought if she could correct her running style, she might be able to run better.

“Ah, Sato is about to be overtaken.”

Someone said with a wry smile.

Who would overtake her when she’s already far behind?

As I looked around, I saw Sato-san just before a curve, with a girl from the lead group closing in on her from behind. The girl who was catching up had a much better running form and appeared more poised. That’s why she was faster.

Before I could sigh, Sato-san was overtaken.

She was a lap behind. She would probably be overtaken many more times as she ran the straightaway. More runners were coming up behind her.

“That running form is just no good.”

“By this point, it’s a kind of talent—being the last.”

“Not good at sports and can’t even study. She’s really not lucky.”

The others laughed without restraint.

But I couldn’t laugh.

I saw Sato-san looking down.

Her ponytail fell from her left shoulder, and her running form became more hunched over.

Still, her legs kept moving. Though unsteady, she continued running. I knew she wouldn’t stop. She wasn’t the type to give up and walk midway.

“Yamaguchi, it’s your turn. Hurry up!”

Until the P.E. teacher called me, I had been watching Sato-san run.

Even when I turned away from the field, her hunched-over running style stayed in my mind.

It affected me during my basketball practice. I failed to score and lost the ball multiple times due to poor passes.

It was all Sato-san’s fault.

After P.E., it was time to return to the classroom and prepare for the next lesson.

When I returned to my seat after changing, Sato-san was already at the seat next to mine. She was slumped over her desk, pressing her cheek against it, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

She must have been exhausted from the marathon class. Her ponytail was disheveled and remained that way. Strands of hair stuck to her cheek and neck.

I hesitated for a moment.

But seeing her worn-out appearance, I decided to speak up.

“Sato-san.”

“Huh…?”

Her breath was ragged.

She looked at me, and her eyes seemed a bit red.

“You should lean forward a bit more when you run.”

I spoke softly so that the noise of the classroom would cover it.

“And about your arm swing. Instead of swinging them sideways, try moving them back and forth. Maybe practice in front of a mirror.”

If you’re interested, that is.

Sato-san blinked rapidly for a moment.

Then she gave a dry smile and said,

“Oh, Yamaguchi-kun… Did you see me running?”

Her voice was raspy.

I was caught off guard and struggled to respond.

“Well… not exactly. It just happened that I noticed.”

I mumbled, neither denying nor affirming.

But internally, I wanted to argue.

Wasn’t it because of Sato-san?

If Sato-san were faster or ran more gracefully, I wouldn’t have noticed her at all.