Tamaire, Obstacle Course, 40-Person 41-Leg Race, Pole Toppling—After finishing various other events, the only thing left was the grand finale: the Class Relay Race.

Class 1: 1,830 points
Class 2: 1,690 points
Class 3: 1,870 points
Class 4: 2,050 points

These were the current standings.

Class 1 was in third place by a narrow margin, trailing Class 4 by 220 points. Since the relay race for each grade level would award between 100 and 400 points, every class still had a chance at victory.

The relay order was set as third-years → first-years → second-years, so our turn was the last of the last. Right now, the third-year first runners were lined up on the track, waiting for the starting signal.

“Damn, I’m starting to get nervous…”

Souta, our first runner for the relay, was fidgeting restlessly, hopping in place and stretching. I was relieved he hadn’t gotten hurt when he fell from the kibasen earlier.

“I remember Class 1 winning last year when we were second-years, so I think the third-years will pull through… No clue about the first-years, though.”

If my memory served me right, they had won by a landslide. Maybe the upperclassmen had a bunch of track team members in Class 1.

“Did they? Then that means we can count on getting those 400 points.”
“If the lineup hasn’t changed, we should be fine. But if Class 4 takes second, we won’t catch up.”
“Winning is our only option. The real concern is the first-years… If they place fourth, that’d be rough.”
“Yeah. We’ll just have to cheer as hard as we can.”

Since this was the final event, students had gathered all around the field, their eyes burning with excitement as they watched the track.

This is it… A quiet, determined flame ignited in my heart.

And then—under the vast, endless blue sky, the starting gun echoed.

◆

“…Yeah, that was seriously fast.”
“Uh-huh. That was overwhelming.”

Class 1: 2,230 points
Class 2: 1,890 points
Class 3: 1,970 points
Class 4: 2,350 points

The third-years’ relay had ended, and the scoreboard was updated. Class 1 had taken first place, securing an additional 400 points.

Unfortunately, Class 4 placed second, maintaining a 120-point lead over us.

“The second-years will probably finish first and second between Class 1 and Class 4… Which means the first-years HAVE to place higher than Class 4.”
“Hiura told me the first-years’ strongest athletes are concentrated in Class 2.”
“Then we still have a shot. C’mon, don’t let us down…!”

Souta clapped his hands together in prayer toward the first-year runners. I did the same in a small gesture. Come on, underclassmen. We’re counting on you.

“Oi! All relay runners, gather up!”

From a distance, Hiura raised his hand. A sudden wave of nervous energy coursed through my body, making my blood feel like it was surging at full speed.

Maybe this was what they called battle tremors.

“…Alright, let’s go, Souta.”
“Yeah. We’re definitely winning this.”

With a clap, Souta smacked his fist into his palm. Almost like a signal, the first-years’ relay race began.

I wanted to keep watching, but for now—I had to focus on myself.

◆

We waited on the inside of the track, eagerly anticipating our turn.

Part of me wanted the baton to reach us as soon as possible. Another part wished it never would.

Souta, the first runner, was carefully stretching on the white line marked on the track.

The Aotaka Festival was reaching its climax. Everyone’s bodies were already worn out. The ropes from the 40-Person 41-Leg Race had left sharp pain around our ankles, and my thighs felt like they had weights strapped to them after all the squatting from tamaire.

But this was an opportunity.

My matchup was against Sato, the second-year basketball team captain. No doubt, he was faster than me. If we were both at full strength, I wouldn’t stand a chance.

But if we were both exhausted, then it was different.

When things got tough, what decided victory wasn’t athletic ability—it was mental fortitude. And no matter how much of a seasoned athlete he was, I had no intention of losing there.

Because I had a promise to keep.

“…”

I deliberately chose not to look toward the spectator stands.

Tachibana Iori was watching. That was enough.

The next time I saw her, it would be after I’d kept my promise.

If I didn’t give it my all here, I’d regret this day for the rest of my life.

I didn’t know why I was so desperate about my promise with Iori.

But deep inside me, a powerful, undeniable drive was surging up.

I wanted to impress her.

“Souta! Overtake everyone!”
“Just don’t come in last!”

The race was about to start.

Our classmates shouted at the top of their lungs.

There was nothing else we could do now.

We couldn’t let the third-years and first-years’ hard-earned 200 points go to waste.

We had to win.

“Souta, go for it!!!”

『The final event of the Aotaka Festival—The Class Relay Race, Second-Year Division… Start!!』