While Yukio and Kiryuin were still chatting near the final wooded stretch of the cross‑country relay course, every other class was pushing hard through drills. Against such a fiery backdrop, it looked distinctly odd that students from Class D kept getting injured and dropping out.
…
"Hey, Horikita, aren't you going to do something about this?"
Onodera and Sonoda—both Class D girls—found Horikita in the middle of a tricky obstacle run.
Horikita's eyes flashed in confusion. Do something about what? Plainly, something had happened while she was training. She stopped at once, caught her breath, and faced them.
"What is it?"
"Tch." Onodera clicked her tongue, irritated that she had to come to Horikita at all. Under normal circumstances she'd never rely on her. But right now she had no idea what else to do. "Kushida, Matsushita's circle—Karuizawa and the rest—they're all hurt."
In class politics Horikita ranked only a hair above Ike and Yamauchi—everyone's favorite punching bag. But Onodera figured if anyone could push back against Matsushita, it had to be the former class unifier.
"Injured?" Horikita's expression turned grim. "Is this Yukio's doing?"
She hadn't yet gathered the facts, but the guess flew out of her mouth. Malicious? Yes. Yet, logically speaking, what other class had the means and the audacity to pull such a stunt?
Onodera's eyes went wide. "Huh? No, no, nobody did anything. They all said they tripped— sprained ankles and whatnot—and went straight to the infirmary."
"But I can tell they're faking! None of them were actually injured!" Onodera prided herself on athletic instincts; such crude acting couldn't fool her.
Now it was Horikita's turn to look baffled. She silently admitted that blaming Yukio on reflex had been wrong. She really should fix that habit—something her elder brother would surely approve of.
Sonoda, who'd been fidgeting nearby, decided to pile on with her own heavily flavored theory. "Horikita, you'd better watch Matsushita, or she'll sell the class out! Kushida, Karuizawa—they're her besties. She's definitely pulling strings, making them sit out and tank our training scores!"
"Impossible," Horikita said at once. Reflection was fine, but the core logic held firm. "If we want to reach Class A, we must overtake Yukio's class. That's non‑negotiable. From a relationship standpoint, Matsushita has many friends here. From a profit standpoint, moving to Class A would put her directly at odds with Yukio. She has no reason whatsoever to betray us."
It was a kind of reasoning the old Horikita would never have voiced—she'd never cared about interpersonal networks before.
"Wrong, wrong, wrong!" Onodera snapped. "What if she skips all that and directly transfers into Yukio's class? His class is pooling twenty million private points right now to buy her, didn't you hear?"
Horikita's face finally changed. She stared at Onodera so sharply that the athlete involuntarily took a step back, and Sonoda clammed up completely.
"Pooling twenty million?" Horikita asked. "Where did you hear that?"
"In the cafeteria last night," Sonoda blurted. "We overheard some of Yukio's classmates talking about it."
That's it? Horikita swept both girls with a disapproving glare. She had thought they'd come bearing hard evidence. Instead they'd swallowed cafeteria gossip and were ready to indict Matsushita?
Horikita massaged her temples. With thinking like this, Class D has a long road to A.
Seeing Horikita's obvious disbelief, Onodera got flustered. "There's more! Last night Matsushita was out here training late. Said she twisted her ankle—Yukio carried her all the way back. Carried, not helped. Tons of students saw it with their own eyes. You can't tell me that's normal!"
That was at least better than a rumor. Horikita was surprised she hadn't heard about it. Yukio carrying Matsushita back? Wouldn't he normally tease her for a bit, then leave her there and stroll off laughing? Then she recalled the sports festival, when Yukio had casually given her advice about unifying a class. He can be kind sometimes, she admitted to herself—and felt a tiny, inexplicable pang. Was it lingering frustration over his constant scheming…or something else?
She shoved that feeling aside; first priority was stopping these baseless suspicions. "You're both stretching. If Matsushita really intended to betray us, she'd hide it, not parade around on his back. And if Yukio's class truly meant to spend twenty million, do you think they'd discuss it loudly enough for random diners to overhear?"
"Then flip it around!" Onodera argued, refusing to budge. "They're so smart they knew we'd think that way—so they turned it inside‑out to clear her name before stabbing us in the back!"
That circular logic could loop forever; Horikita saw no point continuing.
"Forget it, Sonoda, we're leaving," Onodera huffed. The two stormed off, convinced Horikita was hopelessly fooled by Matsushita and Yukio's conspiracy.
Horikita watched them go, then returned to training. Beating that guy even once… why is it so hard? she thought—and pushed herself harder into the afternoon drills.