"So, when solving for x using the quadratic formula, x is equal to negative b, plus or minus the square root of b squared minus four a c, all over two a. Substituting the values from the equation 2x minus 5x minus 3 equals zero, we get A equals 2, B equals negative 5, and C equals negative 3. By putting these numbers into the formula, you should find that x becomes 3 and also negative one-half."
Hamada-sensei's voice steadied as he faced the board.
He moved along the front of the classroom with quiet steps, the dry erase marker scraping lightly each time he circled the answers. A faint smell of ink drifted from the board, mixing with the dry air coming in through the open windows.
"Is everyone following?"
Hamada-sensei turned his head slowly, his eyes moving across the rows of desks as he waited for a reaction.
"Yes, Hamada-sensei."
The class answered together, their voices rising at once as several students straightened in their seats. The sound carried lightly through the tall room, fading against the walls as the students settled back into place.
Naomi sat still, her pen held lightly between her fingers as her eyes stayed fixed on the board. The surface of her desk pressed with a gentle warmth against her elbows from the afternoon sun filtering through the windows.
A quiet breath pushed against her chest, stopping just before it escaped. I'm at a loss for words, but I can't say that out loud, she told herself, forcing the air back down.
Sachiko glanced sideways at Tetsuo.
His head was angled toward his notebook, strands of hair shifting lightly as he continued writing in steady, precise movements. The quiet scratch of his pen filled the small space around them, steady and uninterrupted.
Her fingers paused on her textbook. I understand the formula because of the extra classes I took before entering high school… but I wonder if Tetsuo was able to follow it too.
She recalled the night before, when Tetsuo walked Haruko home. The memory tightened faintly in her chest.
Is he really not that boy from back then…? Or did he forget about us? I really don't know.
Her brow tensed, the confusion refusing to settle.
Makoto slouched in his seat, one leg stretched out under the desk. He tapped his pencil against his shoe, the soft clicks filling the space beneath him as a short yawn escaped his throat.
This is such a pain. I don't understand any of this crap at all
Noboru lifted his hand, his elbow rising lazily as a faint smirk formed at the corner of his mouth.
"Um, sir, you've completely lost me." His voice pushed through the quiet scribbling around the room, breaking the rhythm for a moment.
Hamada-sensei's shoulders tightened for a brief moment before he steadied his posture. He lifted his chin, looking over the top of his glasses.
"Oh really, Mr. Takemoto? And where exactly did you get lost?"
Noboru lifted his hand slightly, a faint smirk forming as his shoulders eased back.
"Well, I've been lost from the very start. I was just waiting for you to finish because I didn't want to interrupt." His eyes drifted closed for a moment, his lips tightening as if he was holding back a laugh.
Quiet snickers rippled through the room, the sound soft but unmistakable.
Hamada-sensei's head snapped up.
"How are you lost from the start when this is only the formula?!" His voice jumped higher than he intended, echoing off the front wall.
He stopped mid-breath, his jaw tightening before he let out a slow exhale. His hand smoothed down the front of his tie, shoulders lowering back into place.
Sometimes I really wonder how he managed to enter the elite class with only two brain cells. The marker hovered in his grip, the tip giving a faint tremble before touching the surface.
"Fine, I'll explain it one more time. Make sure you pay attention this time, alright?" His voice came out steady, though the corners of his mouth pulled downward.
He lifted a hand and adjusted his glasses, the frame clicking softly near his ear.
Noboru lifted his hand in a casual wave.
"Yes, sir. Loud and clear. Also—Hamada-sensei, your time is up."
A small grin pulled at his mouth.
The bell rang a moment later, sharp and final.
Laughter spread across the room as desks shifted and papers rustled. Bags thumped against the floor while chairs scraped back in uneven rhythms.
Hamada-sensei let out a long breath and placed the marker on the ledge beneath the board, his shoulders dropping as the noise filled the room.
Noboru lifted both arms over his head as they stepped into the hallway, his shoulders loosening with the stretch.
"I've been dying to get out of that class. It was so boring, and I didn't understand anything at all."
Students passed by in steady waves, their voices blending into a constant buzz around them.
Shino shifted the strap of his gym bag higher on his shoulder, his gaze dipping for a moment.
"Speak for yourself. I understood a little of it."
His fingers tightened briefly around the strap as they continued down the hall.
Makoto ran a hand through his hair as he walked past them.
"Don't assume everyone is as much of an idiot as you."
A slow yawn pushed out of him, his shoulders lifting with the motion as he and Tetsuo moved past the group.
Noboru spun toward Makoto, his eyebrows lifting as his chest puffed out a little.
"Hah?! Who're you calling an idiot?"
His voice came out louder than he intended, carrying down the hallway.
Shino flinched beside him and tugged lightly at his sleeve, his fingers tense.
A faint blush spread across his cheeks as a few students turned their heads.
"Noboru… keep your voice down," he murmured, his eyes lowering in embarrassment. "Everyone is staring…"
Noboru clicked his tongue but stopped, shifting his weight as the attention made him stiffen.
Hamada-sensei remained by the board in the classroom, fingers curling around a piece of chalk before snapping it in half.
The gymnasium air hung warm and heavy, the smell of rubber flooring, sweat, and worn wood drifting through the space.
The boys gathered near the center of the court, their sneakers shifting against the polished floor under the hard glow of the fluorescent lights.
Noboru let out a low breath, shoulders dropping as he looked around.
"So for this PE session, we're just running? Seriously? I wanted to shoot some hoops."
Noboru's eyes shifted toward the far side of the court. A stray basketball rolled lazily across the floor, bumping to a stop against the paint.
A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as he stepped toward it.
Shino reached out quickly, his hand catching Noboru's sleeve.
"N-Noboru, wait. We're not supposed to—"
His voice dropped to a nervous whisper, his grip tightening for a moment.
Noboru shook him off with a short laugh and scooped up the ball.
The rubber thumped rhythmically against the floor as he dribbled, his steps growing quicker as he pushed off toward the hoop.
He jumped for a layup.
Before his hand touched the backboard, a ball shot across the court in a clean arc and struck him squarely on the side of the head with a sharp thud.
Noboru froze mid-landing, the ball he'd been holding bouncing away across the floor as the sound echoed through the gym.
Noboru staggered a step, his hand flying up to the side of his head.
"Hey—what the heck was that…?"
The words slipped out unevenly, his eyes wide in disbelief as the sting spread across his temple.
Heavy footsteps approached, each one firm against the gym floor.
"Shut up and get in line."
The PE teacher loomed over the group, arms folded tight across his chest. The fabric of his polo pulled against the size of his shoulders, the outline of his muscles visible even under the bright fluorescent lights.
He stepped forward, his boots stopping with a firm thud in front of the line of boys.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. My name is Tsuyoshi Souma, and I'm in charge of your health and fitness." His voice carried cleanly through the gym, bouncing off the high walls.
"Today, you'll be tested on your physical capabilities. After that, you can take it easy. But starting now, you will run in every session. Do I make myself clear?!"
His stare held steady, cutting across the row of students as the room fell tense and quiet.
The students straightened their backs, their voices rising together.
"Yes, Souma-sensei!"
Souma-sensei gave a short nod, the sharp clap of his hands echoing across the gym.
"We will begin with push-ups. Start."
Hands dropped to the floor. The rubber matting pressed against their palms, gritty and warm. Sweat gathered along their brows almost immediately.
"One, two, three, four, five…"
Souma-sensei's counting carried across the gym. Breathing grew unsteady. Arms trembled at the joints.
"…eight, nine, ten—"
Two boys lost their strength and fell forward, their faces touching the mat.
Meanwhile, out on the track, the girls of Class 1T moved under the pale afternoon sky.
Naomi's footsteps struck the rubber surface in a steady rhythm, each stride smooth and controlled. Her ponytail shifted lightly behind her with every step. Her breathing stayed quiet and even, while the girls further back drew in louder, uneven breaths.
"Wow, Naomi is amazing, isn't she?" one girl spoke through uneven breaths, her steps landing heavily on the track.
"I know. She's not just fast—she can keep her pace too." The girl beside her kept running, her breaths sharp as she pushed forward.
"This is so unfair. The boys get the gym and we're out here sweating," a girl complained, her breath breaking as she kept her pace.
"Be grateful. I heard Souma-sensei is going to put them through a lot. My friend in second year said he still gets nervous thinking about that class." The girl beside her ran with her arms pumping steadily, her voice strained from the effort.
Sachiko moved a few meters behind the main group, her arms driving forward with each step. Sweat gathered along her temples and slipped down her neck. Her breath pressed tightly in her chest, and her legs carried a growing heaviness, but she continued without slowing.
"Alright, girls, you can take five." The teacher's voice carried across the track, and the tension in the girls' shoulders eased as they slowed.
Rie, who had fallen behind the rest, stumbled near the curve of the track. One eye was hidden behind her long bangs, and strands of sweat-damp hair clung to her cheek.
Sachiko reached out before she lost her balance, her hand closing around Rie's elbow.
"Careful. Don't push your knee too hard." Sachiko's breath came out unevenly.
"T-Thank you…" Rie's voice wavered as she lowered her head, her visible eye unfocused from exhaustion.
Sachiko gave a short nod and straightened again. Her chest rose and lowered in sharp movements as she moved forward.
Naomi slowed, barely winded, and walked back toward Sachiko.
Sachiko's gaze drifted toward the gym again, her breath still uneven from the run and a thin line of sweat sliding down her temple.
If I get the chance today… I'm going to talk to him. I can't keep this up any longer. I'm tired of his attitude—tired of him giving me the cold shoulder every time, Sachiko thought, her fingers curling into a fist as heat gathered in her chest.
"Whoa, easy there, tiger," Naomi teased, raising an eyebrow as she caught the tension in Sachiko's face.
"Oh—hey, Naomi."
Naomi stepped in front of her, lifting a quick peace sign, her expression bright.
"Did you see me out there? I was like totally leading by a lap!"
"Naomi… you're really something else."
Sachiko drew in a rough breath, her shoulders slanting forward as she braced her hands on her thighs, heat still pulsing along her face.
Naomi lifted her chin slightly, her breath steady as she adjusted the elastic band holding her ponytail. "Well, it's my passion, so I can't allow myself to be beaten by anyone." Her voice came out calm.
A faint sheen of sweat clung to her skin under the sunlight, and her posture stayed firm, as if she could start running again without hesitation.
A girl leaned against the fence, her shoulder pressing lightly into the metal as she looked toward the gym.
"Look, the boys are doing push-ups inside. At times like these, I feel relieved to be a girl." Her breath eased out in a slow rhythm as she spoke, the corners of her mouth lifting a little.
Sachiko slowed near the fence, her fingers tightening around the metal links as she peered through the gym doors.
Looks like there are only seven of them left… and Tetsuo is one of them, she thought, her breath pausing for a moment as her eyes fixed on him.
"Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…"
Noboru pushed through each count, his arms shaking as the pressure in his shoulders spread downward. A rough breath slipped out of him.
Shit… my arms feel like they're about to give out. But I'm not letting myself finish in seventh. No way.
Makoto's breathing came out rough, his chest lifting and falling at an uneven rhythm. He clenched his jaw. "This is such a pain. I'm stopping at thirty."
"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…"
Shino's elbows buckled, and he dropped with a strained groan, his palms sliding slightly on the warm mat. Kiyoe collapsed beside him a moment later, followed by two more boys whose breaths hitched sharply as they hit the floor.
Makoto pushed himself through ten more reps, arms tightening with each dip, then let his body fall onto his side. His shirt stuck to his back from the heat gathering under the fabric.
Only Noboru and Tetsuo were still pushing.
Tetsuo's form stayed steady, his hands planted at the same width, his elbows moving with strict control. His breathing stayed quiet. Sweat gathered at his forehead and slid down, but nothing in his expression shifted.
Noboru forced himself up to forty-nine, his breath rough in his throat. He shot a quick look at Tetsuo, who still didn't look tired. His arms shook, then buckled, and his chest hit the floor.
There's no way I can win, he admitted to himself.
Sit-ups came next.
The mats were spread in straight rows, the rubber faintly warm beneath their backs as the boys lowered themselves down.
Kiyoe's movements lost strength at thirty, his shoulders dropping back against the mat.
Shino pushed through thirty-two before a strained groan escaped him.
Makoto powered his way to forty-five, his breath scraping out through clenched teeth.
Noboru kept a steady rhythm, his face red and his shirt sticking to his chest.
"Fifty-nine," Souma called out.
Tetsuo's pace never shifted. Each rise and drop stayed exact, his core tightening without hesitation until he hit one hundred.
Finally came the cardiovascular test.
The sun had begun to lower, sending long shadows across the track that wrapped around the school grounds.
The boys started in a staggered line, feet striking the pavement in uneven rhythm.
Shino's cheeks were tinted pink from the effort. He dropped out first, hands braced on his knees while he pulled in short, unsteady breaths.
Noboru, Makoto, and Tetsuo remained at the front.
Their shoes hit the pavement in quick succession. Noboru's chest tightened with each inhale, heat building in his lungs.
Makoto edged forward beside him, his chest rising sharply with every breath.
Tetsuo kept just ahead of them, posture steady, his focus unmoving.
By the time they reached the gate, he was already resting a shoulder against the fence, his breathing controlled.
Makoto came in a moment later, his shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath.
"Damn it! Losing to Tetsuo was bad enough, but losing to Makoto too? That's embarrassing," Noboru groaned, one hand pressed to his forehead as he tried to steady his breathing.
Makoto glanced sideways at him while wiping sweat from his chin.
Sucks to be you, he thought, shifting his focus to Tetsuo. This guy isn't normal… I've seen prodigies in track, but I've never seen anyone keep that pace for eight hundred meters.
"Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen. Now that I've recorded the necessary data for each of you, you're free to relax for the rest of the session."
Souma-sensei shifted his clipboard under his arm, the faint rustle of paper following him as he turned and walked away across the gym floor.
Noboru lay flat on the track, eyes closed, his back pressing against the warm surface. "Man, I'm exhausted. My muscles are killing me."
Shino shifted beside him, wiping the sweat running down his temple with the back of his hand.
"Um… Noboru, do you remember we have training after school? I don't understand why you pushed yourself so hard."
"You know Nanaho won't go easy on us, even if we explain. Her training is already brutal—today will be even worse. I honestly don't know how I'm going to survive."
Shino rubbed at his arm, breaths still unsteady as sweat gathered at his jawline.
"Shit, we're screwed," Noboru muttered, letting his head sink deeper against the track.
"Yeah, I'm skipping training today. I'll go lie down in the infirmary for now." Makoto stretched his arms over his head, a quiet yawn slipping out as he walked away.
Shino took a small step after him, hands curling nervously at his sides.
"But… Makoto… you promised… what about the promise we made?"
His voice rose awkwardly, heat gathering in his cheeks as a few students turned toward him.
Tetsuo, craving silence, wandered off toward the quietest part of the building.
He stopped at an open window, the cool air brushing across his sweat-dampened skin.
He leaned against the frame, arms settling on the ledge.
Outside, the branches shifted with the breeze, their leaves giving off a faint rustle.
A slow breath left him, his shoulders loosening.
…This is nice, he thought.
"Um… excuse me. Can you move? You're blocking the wind."
A small voice reached him from behind, barely above the soft airflow coming through the window.
He turned.
Inside the room, a girl with long black hair and thin glasses sat near the window. An open book rested on her lap.
She didn't lift her face at first, her posture still and unapproaching.
A moment later, she raised her head.
Her eyes met his—flat, without warmth.
The air between them felt motionless.
He knew her.
The instant her lifeless gaze settled on him, recognition clicked in his mind.
Sachiko was moving through the corridor, thoughts drifting, when she caught sight of Tetsuo by the open window.
He was alone.
She drew in a quiet breath and stepped toward him.
Her feet stopped mid-stride as she noticed someone beyond the window frame—an unfamiliar girl seated inside the classroom, her gaze steady and unreadable.
A tight pressure formed in Sachiko's chest.
"Who… is she?" The words slipped out in a low breath.