Chapter 013: Sakayanagi, You're Getting into Dangerous Territory! It's Like You're Falling for Him
The crowd on the field continued to grow.
Looking out from the Year 1 area, the formations for the second and third years had basically taken shape. Hachiman stood in the Year 1 Class A queue, his gaze sweeping across the sports field.
The Year 3 area was at the very front, closest to the rostrum. He saw Horikita Manabu; the man stood at the head of the Year 3 Class A line, posture upright and expressionless. Even in a crowd, his aura was impossible to ignore.
Beside them were Year 3 Classes B, C, and D. The lines weren't perfectly straight, but every class had assembled in their designated zones. The Year 2 area was behind the third years. Hachiman's gaze scanned that section and spotted Nagumo Miyabi. The Vice President was standing in front of Year 2 Class A, talking to a few students nearby, his short blonde hair particularly prominent in the sunlight.
"There are so many people," Ichinose said softly, standing beside Hachiman.
Hachiman nodded. "Three grades for the whole school, about four hundred people. To be precise, only 399."
"Only 399..." Ichinose repeated the number softly, her gaze landing on the unfamiliar faces across the field. "It's fewer than I imagined."
Based on the original enrollment of four classes per grade with 40 students per class, a normal full school enrollment should be 160 * 3 = 480 students. However, there were actually fewer than 400 people now.
In other words, more than 80 upperclassmen had been expelled. The expulsion rate was indeed terrifying. Many special exams were linked to expulsion; it was truly a difficult situation to endure.
Hachiman didn't dwell on the topic. His gaze swept the field, silently noting the positions of each class. The Red Team was composed of all Classes A and C, while the White Team consisted of Classes B and D. This meant the Red Team included Horikita Manabu from the third year, Nagumo Miyabi from the second year, and himself and Ryuen from the first year.
Hachiman withdrew his gaze and let out a soft breath.
Just then, the microphone on the rostrum emitted a "bzz-bzz" static sound. The noisy chatter on the field gradually died down as everyone's attention focused on the stage. Horikita Manabu walked up.
He wore a crisp uniform, his steps steady and his expression frosty. Reaching the microphone, he stopped and scanned everyone on the field.
"The Sports Festival opening ceremony begins now."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried across the entire field through the speakers, every word clear and forceful. No unnecessary pleasantries, no long-winded introductions—just a simple sentence. Then he gave a slight nod and stepped aside.
The field fell silent for a moment, followed by scattered applause. Soon, the applause grew, spreading from the third years to the second years, and finally filling the entire field.
Hachiman clapped his hands, his eyes on the rostrum. Horikita Manabu had already retreated to the side, yielding the microphone to someone else.
Nagumo Miyabi stepped up.
His stride was much lighter than Horikita's, and he wore his signature confident smile. His short blonde hair shimmered in the sun; he looked absolutely spirited. He walked to the mic and cleared his throat.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I am the Student Council Vice President, Nagumo Miyabi."
His voice rang out across the field, his tone several pitches higher than Horikita's, carrying a deliberate warmth. The applause was sparser than before, but most people were listening intently.
"Today, I will explain the rules for the Sports Festival." Nagumo picked up a sheet of paper from the table, unfolded it, and scanned the contents. "First is the grouping. For this Sports Festival, the entire school will be divided into two groups, the Red Team and the White Team, for a Red-White competition."
He paused, looking over the crowd.
"From Year 1 to Year 3, all Classes A and C will automatically form the Red Team, and all Classes B and D will automatically form the White Team. In other words—" He raised a hand, pointing to one side of the field. "Students of the Red Team, your teammates are Classes A and C. Students of the White Team, your teammates are Classes B and D."
A low murmur of discussion broke out on the field.
"Next, the winner of the Red-White competition is determined by the sum of the points earned by each grade and class in various events. The group with the higher total score wins." Nagumo continued, eyes scanning the paper. "It sounds complicated, but it's actually simple—you just need to do your best to earn points in the events you participate in. A single class cannot control the overall situation, nor can a single grade. This is a battle involving four hundred people across the entire school."
He put the paper down, looked up, and scanned the Year 1 area.
"Next, I want to offer a piece of advice to the first-year students." His tone became more serious. "Some may call this nagging, but the Sports Festival is a very important event; please
keep that in mind. The experience gained at the Sports Festival will surely be applied to other opportunities. Among future exams, there will be many that look like games at first glance. However, regardless of which it is, it will become an important battle where survival at this school is at stake."
The field fell silent. The first-year students listened to these words with various expressions. Some nodded seriously, some looked at the ground, and others stole glances at those beside them.
Standing in the queue, Hachiman's expression didn't change as he listened to Nagumo. He already knew these rules—in even more detail than Nagumo was providing. Nagumo's closing statement was correct, though. The Sports Festival wasn't just a sports festival; it was an exam where class evaluation points were at stake.
"Finally—" Nagumo picked up another sheet from the table and glanced at it. "The only event involving all grades is the final 1200-meter relay race. Other than that, all events are grade-specific. Gathering as individual grades now is the best time for you to hold discussions."
Once he finished, he gave the students space to digest the information.
Discussion broke out across the field. First was Hachiman's class.
"Hikigaya-kun." Shibata Souta leaned in, lowering his voice. "According to Nagumo-senpai, the only event involving the whole grade together is the 1200-meter relay. Everything else is about the large group's total score. Does that mean we don't need to consult with the senpais? We just play our own games?"
Hachiman glanced at him. "Theoretically, yes. The Red-White competition looks at total scores. Each grade and class earns their own points, which are summed up at the end. If you run fast, you get points in your event. If someone else runs fast, they get points in theirs. There's no need to consult."
"Then isn't that just everyone doing their own thing?" Amikura Mako chimed in, her tone laced with confusion. "What's the point of the grouping then?"
"The point is—" Ryuji Kanzaki said thoughtfully, "the outcome of the Red-White competition affects each class's points. Winning adds 200 points, losing deducts 200. So you don't just have to earn points yourself; you have to ensure the Red Team's total is higher than the White Team's. I suppose with that kind of pressure, everyone has no choice but to give their all."
Amikura blinked. "So that means we don't need to cooperate with the senpais?"
"Not entirely." Hachiman shook his head. "Since a win gives points to the whole group and a loss takes them from the whole group, normally everyone would go all out. But—" he paused, "there is still some room for maneuvering."
Ichinose turned to look at him. "Maneuvering?"
"Yeah." Hachiman nodded. "For example, within a grade, all A and C classes can coordinate. We can concentrate our strengths on certain events to ensure high scores, strategically abandon our weaknesses, and put our energy into events we're more sure of. This requires internal coordination within the grade. Ultimately, we can secure more points."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over his classmates.
"In a bit, I'll go meet the representatives of the other Red Team classes. We'll discuss how to distribute the events and maximize our total score."
Shibata's eyes lit up. "Hikigaya-kun, you're going to negotiate with the senpais?"
"It's not a negotiation," Hachiman corrected. "It's a discussion. We're in the same group, and the goal is for the Red Team to win. Our interests are aligned; there's nothing to negotiate."
Ryuji Kanzaki looked at him, silent for a second, then nodded slightly. "I'll go with you."
Hachiman glanced at him and didn't refuse.
Standing beside them, Ichinose's gaze fell on Hachiman's face, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. "Hikigaya-kun, I'll accompany you as well in a bit."
Hachiman gave a "hm" and raised his hand to adjust the glasses on the bridge of his nose. The thin black frames glinted slightly in the sun, and the eyes behind the lenses looked much more spirited than usual.
Ichinose simply smiled.
Amikura Mako leaned in, followed Ichinose's gaze, and whispered, "Ichinose, doesn't Hikigaya-kun look really handsome in glasses today?"
Ichinose withdrew her gaze, looked at her, and didn't answer. But the tips of her ears were quietly stained with a faint pink.
Seeing this, the smile on Amikura's face deepened, but she didn't press further.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, in the Year 1 Class B queue, the atmosphere was much gloomier than in Class A.
Katsuragi Kohei stood at the front of the line, arms crossed, expression steady as he watched the rostrum. Nagumo Miyabi's speech had ended.
Totsuka Yahiko stood half a step behind Katsuragi, his expression much more relaxed. He tilted his head, looking at the confident and sun-kissed Nagumo Miyabi, though he frowned slightly.
"Vice President Nagumo is really long-winded." Yahiko lowered his voice, his tone complaining. "He talked for so long, but it basically boils down to everyone doing their own thing. Red vs. White, sum of the scores, points for a win and deductions for a loss—such a simple thing, yet he had to talk forever."
Katsuragi didn't respond.
Yahiko waited two seconds, and seeing no reaction from Katsuragi, he continued, "Then again, simple rules are a good thing. We don't have to think too much; everyone just does their best in their own events. Our Class B practiced for so long over the holidays; our physical fitness should be the strongest in the grade. As long as we perform normally, taking first place in the grade should be no problem."
He spoke with a matter-of-fact confidence. After all, throughout the holidays, Class B students had been training every day. Running, strength, endurance—everyone had practiced. That confidence built on sweat and exhaustion wasn't just talk. He also felt his own month of exercise had brought significant progress.
Hearing this, Katsuragi finally spoke. "Do not underestimate the enemy."
Yahiko was startled. "Katsuragi-kun?"
Katsuragi turned his head and looked at him. His expression remained steady, but his eyes held a hint of sternness. "Strong physical fitness doesn't guarantee a win. The Sports Festival isn't just about fitness. The event schedule, the distribution of participants, on-the-spot performance—all of these will affect the result."
Yahiko opened his mouth to say something but eventually just nodded. "Understood."
Katsuragi withdrew his gaze and looked back at the field. His expression didn't change, but his mind was already calculating rapidly. He understood the rules Nagumo mentioned, of course. Red vs. White, total scores summed up, 200 points for a win, 200 deducted for a loss. It sounded simple—everyone do their best.
But was it really that way?
Katsuragi's gaze crossed the field to the Year 3 area. In the third-year queue, Class A stood at the front, followed by B, C, and D. He saw the Student Council President, Horikita Manabu, standing at the very front of Year 3 Class A, posture straight and expressionless. Even from such a distance, that sense of pressure was clearly discernible.
Horikita Manabu's class, Year 3 Class A, was on the Red Team. And their Year 1 Class B was on the White Team.
Katsuragi withdrew his gaze, his fingers tapping lightly on his arm. He was thinking about something—Year 3 Classes C and D. Class C was on the Red Team, while Class D was on their White Team. However, those two classes had long since lost any hope of promotion. The scores for Year 3 Classes C and D were at the bottom; no matter how hard they tried, it was
impossible to climb up in their final year. For classes like that, the outcome of the Sports Festival didn't actually matter. Whether they won or lost, it had no impact on their final ranking.
But for their Class B, it was different.
For the White Team to win, they needed someone on the Red Team to be a drag. And Year 3 Class C was, in fact, the best breakthrough point.
Katsuragi's mind whirled. If he could contact the class representative of Year 3 Class C and propose some conditions—such as paying a certain amount of points—to have them go easy in the Sports Festival and not give their all, the Red Team's total score would be dragged down. In that case, the White Team's probability of winning would greatly increase.
Of course, this wasn't honorable, and it couldn't be done openly. But in this school where strength was paramount, the methods were never the most important thing. The result was.
Katsuragi took a deep breath, temporarily suppressing those thoughts. This required careful operation; he couldn't rush it. Furthermore—he needed to check if Sakayanagi had any ideas.
He turned his head, his gaze scanning the Class B queue for Sakayanagi Arisu. He saw Sakayanagi standing toward the back, her left hand gripping her cane. She still had that aura of a frail, sickly girl. However, her expression was very calm, and a faint smile even played on her lips. But Katsuragi noticed that her gaze wasn't on the rostrum; it was tilted slightly toward another direction.
And that direction... was the Year 1 Class A area.
Masumi Kamuro from the same class stood beside Sakayanagi, her body leaning slightly toward her, lips moving as if she were whispering something.
Katsuragi's brow furrowed slightly.
Even though the class had dropped down, the positions of Class A and Class B were still quite close. Looking from the Class B area, the situation in Class A was clear. And over there—Hikigaya Hachiman was already a conspicuous fellow.
For a second, Katsuragi followed Sakayanagi's line of sight.
In the Class A queue, Hikigaya Hachiman stood in the front row, talking to a classmate beside him. His expression was the same as usual, but—Katsuragi's gaze stopped on his face.
Glasses.
Hikigaya Hachiman was wearing glasses. Thin black frames, a simple design, the lenses glinting faintly in the sun. Those dead-fish eyes that were always half-lidded were mostly covered by the lenses, making the contours of his face clear. The original lazy, decadent vibe had dissipated significantly, replaced by an indescribable feeling.
Katsuragi stared at him for two seconds, shook his head, and withdrew his gaze.
'Just glasses. It's no big deal.'
But he noticed that several students in Class B were already looking toward Class A. It wasn't intentional, but when the person announcing the rules was Nagumo Miyabi instead of Hikigaya Hachiman, people noticed—that Hikigaya Hachiman seemed a bit different today.
"Sakayanagi." Kamuro Masumi lowered her voice, leaning toward Sakayanagi to ensure only she could hear. "Look at Hikigaya."
Sakayanagi's gaze was already fixed in that direction. Her eyes stayed on Hachiman's face for a second, then two. A flash of stunned silence crossed those violet-blue eyes.
"He's wearing glasses," Kamuro continued, her tone holding a subtle touch of reflection. "You saw the photo Morishita took before, right? I thought it was okay then. But seeing him in person now—" She paused. "He looks even more spirited than in the photo."
Sakayanagi didn't respond. She just quietly watched that direction. The sunlight fell on Hachiman, making his profile exceptionally clear. The black thin-framed glasses made the lines of his face more distinct, and those eyes that were always half-closed looked much more lively than usual.
Kamuro glanced at Sakayanagi, then back at Hachiman in the distance, her mouth moving slightly.
"That guy Hikigaya," she whispered, her tone carrying a hint of teasing, "is a natural-born corporate slave."
Sakayanagi's eyebrow twitched slightly. "Corporate slave?"
"Yeah." Kamuro nodded. "Look at him—with those glasses, he looks just like an elite office worker. Put him in a suit, give him a briefcase, sit him in an office, and anyone would think he's the type of ruthless person who can work overtime until dawn."
Sakayanagi was silent for a second, then let out a soft laugh. The sound was very light, but Kamuro heard it.
"You're right." Sakayanagi's voice still held its sweet tone, but there was an added, unidentifiable quality to her voice. "An image like that is indeed very suitable for work."
She paused, her gaze still fixed on Hachiman. "He looks even more spirited than the photo Morishita took."
Kamuro glanced at her. In those eyes that always held a hint of disdain, a complex emotion flashed. She opened her mouth to say something, but swallowed the words. She wanted to say—Sakayanagi, you're in a dangerous position. Because these words make you sound like you've fallen for Hikigaya.
But Kamuro didn't say it. She just withdrew her gaze and looked back toward the field. The sun was good, and the wind was pleasant. In the distance, students from various classes were
still discussing the rules in low voices. The murmurs rose and fell, mixed with the occasional static from the speakers, echoing softly in the air.
Sakayanagi continued to look in that direction. Her expression was calm, and that faint smile still hung on her lips. But something was flickering in those violet-blue eyes. It wasn't excitement or agitation; it was a quiet sense of reassurance, like the feeling one has after confirming something.
"Kamuro," she spoke softly.
"Hm?"
"Why do you think Hikigaya-kun is wearing glasses?"
Kamuro was taken aback and thought for a moment. "Isn't it to change his image? After all, he has to meet the third-year senpais today; he has to leave a good impression."
Sakayanagi shook her head slightly. "It's not just that." Her voice was very soft. "He's making preparations."
Kamuro frowned. "Preparations for what?"
Sakayanagi didn't answer. She just quietly watched that direction, watching the boy with the thin black glasses standing in the Class A queue, talking to the student beside him. His expression was calm, his movements composed; he looked much more spirited than usual.
Sakayanagi withdrew her gaze and lowered her eyelids.
"It's nothing," she said softly. "I just think he's more serious than I imagined."
Kamuro looked at her, silent for a few seconds, and then let out a soft sigh. She didn't say anything more, just stood by Sakayanagi's side and waited quietly.
The discussions on the field continued, and the sun remained bright. The opening ceremony of the Sports Festival had only just begun.
But the sight of Hikigaya Hachiman wearing glasses had already been imprinted in the eyes of several people. Sakayanagi's, Kamuro's, and those who had inadvertently scanned the Class A queue.
They were just glasses. But sometimes, a pair of glasses changes more than just a person's image. It changes how others see him.
Sakayanagi Arisu stood in the Class B queue, her expression calm and her faint smile still present. But her finger lightly stroked the handle of her cane. The movement was so slight that no one noticed.
Except Kamuro.
Kamuro glanced at her and said nothing. She only sighed silently in her heart and then cast her gaze back toward the field.
Some things are better left unsaid. This was the most important thing she had learned after staying by Sakayanagi's side for so long.
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