Oikawa Toru didn't have much experience with marathons.
Still, after nearly half a year of working out, his stamina had honestly gotten pretty good. Even running ten kilometers a day didn't leave him especially winded.
And besides, with Hayama acting as his guiding light up ahead, Oikawa didn't have to worry too much about pacing himself.
From the moment they started, Oikawa kept a little over five meters between himself and Hayama.
Quite a few people had started out at a full sprint, but before long, they'd burned through all their energy and could no longer keep running.
The real competition would only begin on the road back to Sobu High.
What surprised Oikawa was that Zaimokuza didn't seem to have any intention of giving up halfway, either. He maintained a steady pace and stayed right behind Oikawa, huffing and puffing as he ran.
He looked exhausted, as if he'd already used up every last bit of oxygen in his lungs.
So no matter how hard Zaimokuza tried, there was no way he'd be able to keep up with what came next.
Finally, Hayama... sped up.
The lead group passed through Sobu High and made their way onto the coastal road.
Normally, the beach along the coast was the perfect place for the school's various sports clubs to train. In fact, there had even been some pretty heated arguments between clubs fighting over the best spots on the sand.
But clearly, the ocean and beach they loved so much weren't doing them any favors today.
The cold wind blowing in from the sea practically froze everyone's cheeks. The icy air mixing with their hot, labored breaths only made the pain written across their faces even more obvious.
Oikawa wasn't having an easy time, either.
In a place like this, every step forward felt like torture.
Watching Oikawa's back disappear farther and farther into the distance, Zaimokuza finally stopped. He bent over, bracing both hands on his knees as he desperately tried to catch his breath.
Oikawa could keep up with Hayama because he'd started training his body months ago.
Zaimokuza hadn't.
This pace was simply too fast for him.
But he really didn't want to lose.
And in the end, the only person who suffered for that stubbornness was himself.
After resting for a while, Zaimokuza started walking.
He'd never entered the marathon with the intention of placing. He knew perfectly well that he had no chance of winning anything.
For him, simply finishing the entire course would already be a success.
That was the goal he was fighting toward.
"Damn, when did Oikawa get so good at running?"
After muttering that to himself, Zaimokuza went from walking to a light jog and continued toward the finish line.
...
Meanwhile, Oikawa continued pushing forward through the agony.
But suddenly, the smell of seawater filled his nose.
All around him were windbreak trees that had lost every last leaf, leaving behind nothing but their bare trunks.
For many people who grew up inland, seeing the ocean at least once was a lifelong dream.
Oikawa, however, had always thought there was nothing particularly special about the sea. Every time the tide came in or went out, it brought with it an unpleasant, fishy stench.
By the time he'd covered roughly three-quarters of the outward leg, Oikawa's mind had gone completely blank.
Aside from Hayama's figure in the distance, the entire world seemed to have disappeared.
He'd probably run about fifteen kilometers by now, right?
Oikawa figured it had to be around that far. Otherwise, there was no way he'd be this exhausted or this thirsty.
Damn it. I really want some water!
Just then, Oikawa spotted Kawasaki in the distance.
She seemed to be waving at him.
"Am I hallucinating? I've only run fifteen kilometers and I'm already hallucinating? That's pathetic."
Just as Oikawa was thinking that, Kawasaki's voice reached his ears. "Oikawa! Oikawa!"
It wasn't a hallucination.
Oikawa immediately perked up and hurried toward her.
"Here, drink some water." Kawasaki handed him a bottle of water while using a towel she'd prepared beforehand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Oikawa really wanted to stop right there.
But he couldn't. Hayama's figure was getting farther and farther away. If he didn't chase him now, there was a good chance he'd never catch up.
Without even saying a word to Kawasaki, Oikawa took off after Hayama.
At this moment, Oikawa wasn't thinking about keeping his promise to Shizuka Hiratsuka anymore.
He just didn't want to lose.
Whether the person ahead of him was Hayama or anyone else, Oikawa didn't want to lose.
Watching Oikawa's figure disappear farther into the distance, Kawasaki shouted at the top of her lungs, "Oikawa! Keep going! You can do it!"
She sounded as though she'd put every ounce of her strength into those words.
Her voice was so loud that quite a few people turned to look.
Kawasaki's face immediately turned red. She lowered her head, wishing she could disappear from the aid station on the spot.
When they reached the finish point at Mihama Bridge, Hayama sped up once again.
By now, fewer than ten people remained in the lead group. Most of them were elite members of the school's sports clubs.
Hayama, Tobe, and Ooka were all among them.
Oikawa was bringing up the rear.
Hayama truly was the ace of the sports clubs and last year's marathon champion. He seemed completely accustomed to this kind of long-distance running. Every step he took looked as though it had been measured with a ruler, so perfectly even that it was almost absurd.
Most importantly, after running more than twenty kilometers, he didn't show the slightest sign of fatigue.
When Oikawa set his mind to something, he rarely doubted himself.
But now he genuinely felt that he might not be able to beat Hayama.
Talent mattered in some things, but when it came to sports, hard work usually brought hard-earned results.
Hayama had been exercising since he was a kid.
Oikawa had only spent the past few months training seriously.
If he actually managed to beat Hayama, Hayama would probably start questioning his entire existence.
Still.
Whether he could win was one thing. Whether he should give up was another.
Some things might not give you the result you want, no matter how hard you work.
In that case, you might as well try to enjoy the process.
With that thought, Oikawa suddenly felt his legs grow lighter.
Before long, he spotted the teachers waiting at the turnaround point. They were handing out ribbons to everyone who passed as proof that they'd made it that far.
When the math teacher saw Oikawa approaching, his face was filled with surprise.
He hadn't expected Oikawa to actually make it this far, much less at such a fast pace.
Honestly, he'd thought it would already be impressive if Oikawa managed to finish the entire course.
"Keep going, Oikawa! You're doing great!" After handing Oikawa his ribbon, the math teacher cheered him on with a loud voice.
Oikawa was genuinely touched.
The math teacher really was a good guy.
Oikawa had spent practically the entire year sleeping through his math classes, yet the teacher was still this nice to him.
That was truly admirable.
...
On the way back, Oikawa passed quite a few familiar faces.
Saika Totsuka, Zaimokuza, and even Miura, who was absolutely flying ahead of all the other girls.
Zaimokuza seemed to have finally realized that there was no way he'd finish high enough to place. So he'd entrusted all his dreams to Oikawa.
With the full force of his chuunibyou spirit, he shouted, "Go forth, Oikawa! Become the hero you were destined to be! Do not let the flames of youth be extinguished! Run... Run as though the fate of this world rests upon your shoulders! Just keep running! Your destiny awaits at the finish line! I, Yoshiteru Zaimokuza, had entrusted my dreams to you!"
"..."
Honestly.
Oikawa really wanted to stop, grab Zaimokuza, and jump into the ocean with him just to take them both out.
Unfortunately, his body refused to listen to his brain.
Instead, his right hand rose into the air and gave Zaimokuza a thumbs-up.
---
"Oikawa, I'm surprised you managed to keep going this long." At some point, Hayama had slowed down and was now running alongside Oikawa.
"What are you doing? Waiting for me?" Oikawa asked, slightly surprised.
Hayama met his gaze, a stubborn spark burning brightly in his eyes. Despite the exhaustion weighing on his body, there was a faint smile on his face. "No. I just want to settle this between us."
"Did I do something to you?" Oikawa was genuinely puzzled.
"It's not that serious." Hayama smiled. "I just feel like you've beaten me in something. So I also wanted to beat you at something. Well, sports seemed like my best shot."
"You're... really childish."
Oikawa felt like talking was torture at this point. But there was no way he could just shut up when someone was provoking him.
"How are we going to settle this? You know I'm never going to beat you in a straight race." Oikawa stated the obvious without hesitation.
Hayama was still running as though this were nothing. How could Oikawa possibly beat him in a pure footrace?
"So I'll give you a five-kilometer head start." Hayama's lips curled into a faint, confident smile.
The corner of Oikawa's mouth twitched. "There aren't even fifteen kilometers left. Giving me five kilometers would be a little too insulting."
"Three kilometers, then." Hayama shrugged.
"With three kilometers, I think I've got a chance." Oikawa's eyes narrowed slightly, a competitive spark flashing in them.
Hayama simply nodded. "Three kilometers it is."
"What's the bet?" Oikawa asked, a knowing look crossing his face. "Don't play dumb. You came to challenge me because you wanted something out of this, didn't you?"
Hayama's smile widened. He didn't bother hiding his intentions anymore. "If I win, I want you to ask Yukino which university she plans to attend. If I lose, you can ask me for anything."
Oikawa froze for a moment when he heard Hayama's terms.
Then he remembered what Haruno had told him a few days ago.
So that's what Hayama was after.
No wonder Miura had spent an entire year fawning over him without getting anywhere. She probably didn't realize she'd already been disqualified on the grounds of age.
"If I win, you... hmm."
Oikawa thought for a while.
Then he realized there wasn't actually anything he wanted Hayama to do.
He could only... "For the rest of the month, you can do my cleaning duty."
"Deal." After saying that, Hayama glanced down at his watch. "It's 1:40 PM. I'll start at exactly two. That okay?"
"Twenty minutes is plenty."
"Good." Hayama stopped.
Oikawa didn't waste any more time talking and continued running ahead.
From somewhere behind him, he faintly heard Hayama's voice. "I'll win. Even if I'm starting three kilometers behind."
In a way, Oikawa really did think Hayama was cool.
Unfortunately, talking had made his body feel even worse. Every breath felt like a knife scraping through his lungs.
"Damn it. I should've let him give me five kilometers. I really had to show off, huh?"
Oikawa regretted his decision, but there was nothing he could do except keep pushing.
Yukino clearly didn't want Haruno to know which university she was planning to apply to.
And Oikawa had already accepted Hayama's challenge.
That left only one answer.
Win.
Come on, wind. Give me a hand.
Oikawa began praying.
Technically, he was praying to the wind, but deep down, the person he was really praying to was himself.
...
The marathon continued.
Judging by the looks of things, neither Oikawa nor Hayama was going to make it through this alive.
Oikawa wondered whether some old lady would hold this against him.
Probably not.
She just looked scary.
When Oikawa reached the three-kilometer mark, it was 1:55 PM.
Three kilometers in fifteen minutes.
That was a perfectly acceptable pace.
He began jogging in place.
Stopping completely would only throw off his rhythm, and Oikawa didn't want to take advantage of the head start Hayama had given him.
At exactly two o'clock, Oikawa started running forward again, maintaining roughly the same pace as before.
Five kilometers passed in no time.
There were now less than seven kilometers left until the finish.
Hayama still hadn't caught up.
Another four kilometers passed, and Oikawa reached the final aid station before the finish line.
The student on duty was the student council secretary. If Oikawa remembered correctly, she was from Class 2-B.
Iroha Isshiki had secretly told him some gossip about her.
Apparently, the student council vice president and the secretary were dating. Iroha had once happened to run into them while they were out together.
Oikawa thought Iroha really would make an excellent paparazzo.
Her ability to "accidentally" run into people was seriously impressive.
Before long, only two kilometers remained.
And this time, Hayama finally appeared behind Oikawa.
"Man... it's been a long time since I've felt this fired up."
Oikawa clenched his fists and drove his feet into the pavement, throwing his entire body toward the finish line.
Two kilometers was a long way.
Oikawa had originally thought they'd settle things during the final kilometer.
But at this point, one kilometer or two didn't really matter anymore.
He was tired.
Hayama was tired too.
Wasn't that what this came down to?
Who could hold out until the very end?
For the first time, Oikawa didn't think he was going to lose.
The final two-kilometer sprint began.
Oikawa felt as though he'd become the wind itself. There were no thoughts left in his head.
Only one thing remained.
Run.
Run.
Keep running.
And suddenly, he understood.
He finally understood why, in Run with the Wind, Haiji Kiyose had once asked Kakeru Kurahara: "Do you like running?"
Now he understood.
Sometimes, running really was fun.
The sweat pouring off him after giving everything he had.
The absolute focus that came when he pushed himself to his limit, when the finish line became the only thing left in his mind and nothing else existed.
Oikawa thought he might actually like running.
But that feeling would probably disappear tomorrow when every muscle in his body was screaming at him.
Though right now, at this moment, it was real.
Oikawa had no idea how long it took him to reach the finish line.
Five minutes?
Maybe less?
...
..
At the end, he collapsed onto the ground and sucked in huge gulps of air, as if he'd never breathed fresh air in his entire life.
Even the sea breeze, which had carried that faint fishy smell all day, seemed to have transformed into the scent of freedom.
"That felt amazing!" Oikawa shouted.
It wasn't particularly out of place. Plenty of other people were doing the exact same thing.
In his dazed state, two peaks suddenly appeared in front of him.
Shizuka stood over him, looking down with a faint smile on her lips. "So? Do you finally understand the joy of running? Or perhaps I should say, the joy of exercise?"
"I do right now. Whether I'll still feel that way tomorrow is another question." Oikawa spent a long time catching his breath before finally managing to answer.
By then, Hayama had also walked over. His expression was rather grim. "I lost. From now on, I'll take care of your cleaning duty."
"Much appreciated."
Oikawa had considered saying something to make Hayama feel better.
But honestly, that probably would've just made the whole thing even more humiliating for him.
After Hayama left, Shizuka immediately perked up, clearly interested in the gossip. "Wait, he lost? What kind of bet did you two make?"
Oikawa didn't answer. Instead, he asked, "Who won the marathon?"
Shizuka didn't seem to care that he'd ignored her question. "A student from the volleyball club. I think his name was... Hotaru."
"Kotaru Furuya." Just then, Isshiki Iroha's voice rang out.
The award ceremony had begun.
"This year's marathon champion is Kotaru Furuya, Class 2-C, captain of the volleyball club! Please come up on stage and give us a few words!" Isshiki was practically bursting with excitement as she conducted the award ceremony.
Oikawa had no interest in watching.
After saying goodbye to Shizuka, he dragged his exhausted body back to the classroom.
Once he'd packed up his schoolbag, he didn't head home right away.
Instead, he made his way to the Service Club in the activity building.
He was starting to miss the taste of that tea.
Somehow... the Service Club really wasn't as annoying as it used to be. And a lot of things had apparently become habits before he'd even realized it.
.
.
.