Before lunch break, the Haneoka playground exuded a scent of plastic mixed with youth.
The junior high physical fitness test was progressing under the scorching sun. Next to the sprint finish line, Shiina Taki tugged at the shoulder strap of her sports bra, which clung to her collarbone. Her long black hair was casually tied into a high ponytail, and the tear mole at the corner of her left eye twitched slightly with her furrowed brow.
She had just crossed the 100-meter finish line with a time of 12.33 seconds, her breathing still uneven, and a fine layer of sweat glistening on her neck.
"Shiina-san is so amazing, she really lives up to…"
"Shiina? Is that the younger sister of the legendary brass band club president?"
"She just left the club a while ago, what a shame."
"Well, she is Shiina-senpai's sister, so it's normal for her to be good at sports."
The whispers drifted from the shade of the trees beside the track. The gazes of a few classmates among the onlookers pricked at her skin like fine needles.
Taki pressed her lips together, a familiar bitterness rising in her throat.
It was always like this. No matter how hard she ran, the eyes on her would always pierce through her, focusing on that illusory label of "Shiina Maki's younger sister."
She suddenly turned her head to glare, and the whispers abruptly ceased, replaced by a few perfunctory chuckles.
The girl, slightly irritated, picked up the bottle of iced water from the ground and walked towards the shade of a sycamore tree where no one else was. The condensation on the aluminum bottle made her palm damp. Just as she was about to tip her head back to drink, a hand with distinct knuckles suddenly intercepted the bottle.
"Drinking iced water after strenuous exercise will make your stomach protest."
Yahata Umiri stood at the edge of the tree's shadow, having appeared at some unknown time.
The Haneoka school uniform she wore was eerily neat, her dark medium-length hair falling to her shoulders, and a panda-patterned carton of lemon tea tucked under her armpit, as if she were a Haneoka student who had just finished class.
Wait, Haneoka?
"Where did you get that uniform?" Taki stared at the distinctive Haneoka bow tie at her collar.
"A 99% new second-hand shop on Mercari. Having this set makes it much easier to enter and exit the campus," Umiri said naturally, pulling Taki to sit under the tree's shade.
"I haven't heard of any schools having a day off today…"
"Because the vocalist wasn't feeling well, the band support event was temporarily canceled."
"Ha… Which band is it this time?"
"Wayward, the band that was really popular at RiNG for a while. It's just that recently, both their vocalist and bassist have had problems, so I don't know if they'll make it through."
"I've heard of them. I remember they performed with Afterglow before. Their style… is very unique?"
"Their singing style requires a lot from the voice, which might be why they haven't performed in a long time," Umiri analyzed, calmly handing over the lemon tea. "And I heard you started learning drums recently, so I came to see your progress."
The panda on the aluminum foil packaging was grinning foolishly. Taki was holding the cold carton and about to speak when a sweet, cloying voice cut in.
"Oh, Shiina-san's friend is so cool!"
A girl, also in a tracksuit, pushed through the crowd and walked across the plastic track.
Taki looked up. It seemed to be Takagi Naoko, who was in her class and had been in the brass band club with her.
Her once distinctive dark green short hair was gone, replaced by long hair that fell to her shoulder blades—Taki clearly remembered that just a week ago, her hair had been neatly tucked behind her ears.
The signature makeup on her face had also completely changed. The eye makeup, once adorned with exaggerated glitter, had vanished without a trace, leaving only a thin layer of light brown eyeshadow and purple colored contacts. She had even added a tear mole at the corner of her left eye. Even her fingertips had shed the dazzling fluorescent pink nail polish, replaced by an almost transparent color.
This series of hasty changes gave her an uncoordinated stiffness, as if a vibrant painting had been harshly bleached, leaving behind only traces of deliberate imitation that felt out of place.
"Is this student a transfer student?" Takagi's gaze clung to Umiri.
"I'm Shiina-san's comrade from the brass band club! She ran like a professional athlete just now, as expected of someone from the Shiina family…"
"It was just a regular test." Taki twisted open the lemon tea straw, and the sour liquid slid down her throat.
"Don't be modest! You even helped me calibrate my clarinet's pitch during the last brass band club training camp," Takagi suddenly leaned closer. "By the way, tickets for Maki-senpai's concert next month are so hard to get~! Shiina-san can get internal tickets, right? After all, your big sister dotes on you the most…"
Taki's hand, which was crushing the carton, tightened abruptly.
The acidic sensation seemed to flow back into her chest, burning through those nightly memories: her parents' praise when her sister effortlessly played perfect melodies in the living room, while she hid in the kitchen wiping moisture from her flute's joints; the night her sister brought home the gold medal from the regional competition, her father stroking her head and saying, "Taki-chan, you must work hard too"—as if her efforts were merely clumsy imitations of a genius's shadow.
"I'm not close with her." Taki's voice was icy.
"How could that be!" Takagi covered her mouth and chuckled softly.
"Maki-senpai came to your classroom to find you last time, and she even stroked your hair, she was so gentle! If only I had a sister like that…"
The sycamore leaves' shadows shattered into sharp blades at Taki's feet.
That suffocating feeling, wrapped in "gentleness," tightened around her throat once more—her sister rubbing her hair as if comforting a pet, sighing "I knew this topic in junior high" when tutoring her, and even her quitting the brass band club to learn drums was casually dismissed as "a child throwing a tantrum."
The bronze wall she desperately hammered at, in others' eyes, was a golden-edged door.
"Takagi-san." Umiri suddenly stood up, her long legs striding to block Taki.
Her dark green pupils were like ice-cold daggers, precisely pinning Takagi's frozen fake smile.
"Your nail polish is over the line."
Takagi's fingers curled convulsively. Umiri had already snatched the lemon tea carton, which Taki had crushed out of shape. The sweet liquid seeping from the creases of the carton dripped through Umiri's fingers onto the shade of the tree.
"Taki, it's time to check in for the 800-meter test." Her voice cut through the scorching air.
Rubber granules were crushed underfoot, emitting a burnt smell. Although it was only early spring, the playground was exceptionally hot.
Taki mechanically followed Umiri towards the starting line, hearing Takagi's raised voice of defense from behind: "I just think Shiina-san is very enviable…"
"Enviable? It seems I wasn't clear enough."
Umiri turned, her cold gaze sweeping over this malicious person who had been subtly trying to stab at her friend's most sensitive spot while feigning innocence.
"Your elaborate imitation should end now."
"Don't be pretentious in front of the original, fake."
This sentence was like a heavy hammer, shattering Takagi's carefully maintained mask.
Umiri retracted her gaze, her fingertips gently pressing on Taki's tensed shoulder blade, where dark red indentations from her shoulder bag crisscrossed, slightly warm in the spring sunlight.
Taki took a deep breath, trying to dispel the constantly flashing images in her mind—her sister's photo, receiving an award in the golden hall, hung high at the top of the brass band club's honor wall, while the words "lack of talent" on her club withdrawal application had long been blurred into a hazy gray stain by tears.
The moment the starting gun fired, Taki shot out like an arrow from a bowstring.
The rubber granules made a dull crunching sound under her feet. The 800-meter track shimmered and distorted under the scorching sun, like a burning iron chain wrapped around Shiina Taki's legs.
Her lungs protested with a wheezing sound with every breath, sweat stung her eyes, blurring the wavering white starting line ahead.
Just then, a clear, reassuring voice pierced through the noisy wind, landing precisely in her ear: "Your rhythm is off—match your breathing to my footsteps!"
Taki glimpsed the familiar figure from the corner of her eye. Umiri had appeared on the inner grass field at some point, her steps as steady as a metronome.
She bit her lower lip, trying to refocus her scattered will, forcing her aching legs to keep up with that clear rhythm.
One step, two steps… Umiri's presence was like an invisible tether, pulling her back from the brink of collapse.
The finish line gradually grew larger in her vision. Taki could even hear the sports teacher preparing to press the stopwatch.
She squeezed the last bit of air from her lungs, ready for a final sprint—
Bang!
A dull, sudden thud exploded from behind her, like a heavy sandbag slamming onto the track.
Taki's sprinting motion abruptly halted. She instinctively twisted her head—
Umiri, who had just been following her like a shadow with steady steps, was now sprawled on the bright red plastic track in an extremely unnatural posture. Her dark long hair was scattered, covering half her face, and her body was motionless, as if all vitality had been instantly drained from her.
"Umiri—!!" Taki's cry drowned out all other sounds. She even forgot the finish line was within reach, abruptly stopping and turning back to rush to the other girl's side, not even noticing her knees hitting the rough ground hard.
"Umiri, wake up! What's wrong?" Her hands trembled as she carefully brushed away the hair covering Umiri's face. Her touch was icy cold.
The girl's eyes were tightly shut, her face a sinister pale, and her lips were slightly cyanotic. Her breathing, which had been steady moments ago, was now so faint it was almost imperceptible.
Panic, like a cold tide, instantly engulfed Taki. Her mind was blank, only Umiri's lifeless appearance magnified infinitely before her eyes.
Around her, gasps and confused footsteps seemed to erupt. The sports teacher was shouting something anxiously, but everything felt as if seen through a thick pane of frosted glass.
"Move! Quick! Call the school doctor!" The sports teacher's thick arms pushed aside the onlookers. He quickly knelt to check Umiri's condition, his movements professional and urgent.
Taki was pushed aside by a force. She stumbled back a step, but her gaze remained fixed on Umiri.
Her inferiority complex, her sister's shadow, Takagi Naoko's harsh words… everything became insignificant in the face of her friend's uncertain fate.
Outside the center of this chaos, under the shade of the large sycamore tree beside the track, Takagi Naoko stood quietly.
There was no surprise on her face, only a calmness that was almost cruel.
At this moment, Takagi Naoko had already shed what Umiri called "imitation." Even the purple colored contacts, customized to mimic Taki, had been discarded, revealing her dark pupils tightly fixed on the chaos in the center of the track, a barely perceptible curve at the corner of her mouth.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing light spots on her face, but it could not illuminate the deep shadows in her eyes. She watched Taki kneel beside her, distraught, watched the teachers fumble, and watched Umiri being swiftly lifted onto a stretcher.
The girls around them were either discussing in fear or covering their mouths, and the air was filled with unease and sympathy. But Takagi Naoko simply watched, unconsciously fiddling with a strand of her long, hanging hair.
She watched Shiina Taki's devastated appearance, watched the vulnerability of Shiina Taki, who was always solitary and seemed unassailable.
"It seems you also have areas where you're not as good as me, you can't see…"
She whispered almost silently, her voice so soft only she could hear it, then turned and quietly merged into the deeper shadows of the tree.
Taki stumbled alongside the stretcher carrying Umiri, heading straight for the school doctor's office.
She was covered in red plastic granules, blood seeped from the scrapes on her knees, and her sports bra was soaked with sweat and stained with dirt, making her look disheveled.
But she paid no attention, only staring intently at the bloodless face on the stretcher.
"She was fine just now, how could this happen…?" Taki's voice was hoarse, as if asking someone else, yet also questioning herself.
No one could answer her.
Umiri's lifeless appearance formed a cruel contrast with how she had precisely exposed Takagi and stood up for Taki under the tree's shade just moments before.
The door to the infirmary was hastily closed, cutting off Taki's view.
She slid down to the floor, leaning against the cold wall. Sweat mixed with dirt left streaks on her face. She opened her trembling hand; the empty panda-patterned lemon tea carton lying in her palm was completely deformed from being crushed.
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