Chapter 204: Big Brother-in-Law Issues a Challenge Invitation

The second half of the Sports Festival. After the three-legged race concluded, the atmosphere of the entire field reached its highest peak.

Whether one had any interest in the Sports Festival or not, as the anchor event of the official competition, the 1200-meter mixed relay gathered together the sweat and effort every class in the entire school had shed throughout the day.

The students of each class set aside their various recreational activities and emerged from their camps ahead of time. Making their way to the spectator stands or lining both sides of the track, they discussed and chattered amongst themselves, craning their necks and gazing out toward the starting line of the track.

The total number of participating competitors from each class was six—three boys and three girls. All twelve classes across the entire school would compete together on the same stage.

At the merit-based Advanced Nurturing High, this was undoubtedly a competition event capable of igniting wave after wave of heated discussion among the students.

After repeated adjustments by Katsuragi Kohei, Class A's relay order would have Kito Hayato—the student with the best physical ability in Class A—as the first runner. Next, Motodoi Chikako, a member of the tennis club, would take over as the second runner. Then came Hashimoto Masayoshi as the third runner, followed by Kamuro Masumi as the fourth, and then...

Fuyuji Mikage helplessly pressed a hand to his face and gazed across the field at Morishita Ai, who was striking poses at him with a perfectly expressionless face.

Yes. The great Class A—after sweeping its gaze across the entire class—actually could not find three outstanding girls capable of running the 1200-meter relay.

When it came to academic ability, Class A's girls accounted for nearly half of the entire grade's top academic performers. But when it came to physical ability, there were only a scattered handful.

To the point that even Morishita-sama—that oddball who was constantly dashing and darting all over campus, who claimed her grandfather had been a long-distance runner—could rank within the top three of Class A's girls.

Mm... this was probably the price one had to pay for having academic ability that was too strong.

The broadcast of the sports field rang out. Kito had already arrived at the starting area to prepare for check-in. Katsuragi, together with a few other students, stood nearby, watching over him.

According to the rules, since all twelve classes across the entire school were participating together, and the school didn't have a track that could simultaneously accommodate twelve runners, all twelve competitors would start side by side in a single row.

In other words, theoretically, the runner who occupied the inner lane first would gain an advantage. However, this also increased the possibility of physical friction and other unforeseen incidents occurring during the race.

Still... on this point, the school might, in a certain sense, be quite happy to see it happen.

At the same time, at the Class A camp.

[Special Urgent Notice: Once again reminding all students—to safeguard everyone's physical health and the normal operation of the teaching schedule, if any student feels physically unwell, please proceed to the medical hut immediately for treatment. Do not, under any circumstances, conceal your own condition. Once verified, the school will impose severe penalties.]

It seemed that the behavior of those sub-humans from Class D had been far too outrageous and heaven-defying. The school had issued this urgent notice to prevent the further spread of the influenza.

Extinguishing the screen of his phone, Fuyuji handed it over to Shiraishi Asuka beside him, putting on a fierce, menacing expression.

"No peeking, alright."

"Mm, mm." A fair, unadorned little hand accepted the phone. Shiraishi nodded with a beaming smile, the corner of her lips tracing a soft, gentle arc.

"Openly and blatantly—also not allowed."

Shiraishi's elegant smile froze for the briefest of instants, then immediately reverted to its original state. Her fingertip curled a wisp of pale golden hair and tucked it behind her ear. With the utmost, most natural ease, she gazed elsewhere.

"Alright. I won't look."

"Shiraishi-mama—when you lie, please look me in the eyes, okay?" Fuyuji's eyes narrowed to half-slits.

"How could that be? I wouldn't deceive Fuyuji."

The girl continued gazing elsewhere. Her flawless profile appeared crystalline and translucent beneath the sunlight—then was swiftly veiled by a faint flush of pink.

"..." A lying bad woman.

Left with no other choice, Fuyuji pulled the girl's soft, tender frame into his embrace and planted a fierce, forceful kiss on that fair, snowy cheek as punishment. Then, beneath the gaze of those moist, limpid eyes, he strode toward the very center of the sports field.

Compared to the starting line, where the atmosphere had already gradually grown heavy and intense, the mood among the elites of each class—those bearing the decisive, final leg for their respective classes—was considerably more relaxed.

At a single glance, acquaintances filled well over half the field.

First-year: Shibata So, Horikita Suzune;

Second-year: Nagumo Miyabi, that Kiriyama Ikkei he had just recently gotten to know;

Third-year: Horikita Manabu;

Basically, all of them were the leading figures of their respective classes.

It was just...

Fuyuji rolled his shoulders and turned his head, silently staring at the renowned Student Council President in the adjacent lane.

"What are you looking at me for?"

Horikita Manabu pushed up his glasses and unhurriedly, unhastily averted his gaze. "No. Nothing."

"Weird." After muttering a couple of words, Fuyuji withdrew his gaze. Leaning his body to the side, he brought his head close to the cool, aloof girl's ear beside him and lowered his voice. "Did your brother maybe hit his head during the competition earlier?"

"You're the one who hit his head."

Horikita Suzune bent her arm, instinctively wanting to give the guy beside her a sharp elbow to the ribs—then looked up and saw her own brother staring at her, unblinking.

In that instant, the girl was visibly, palpably thrown into a fluster. Flustered and flailing, she hastily tidied her jet-black strands of hair and lowered her head.

"O-Onii-san..."

"Mm."

Horikita Manabu nodded. He didn't reply. He simply continued staring at the two of them. The silence spread like an invisible, oppressive weight.

Horikita Suzune: "..."

Horikita Manabu: "..."

Amidst the gradually swelling clamor and noise, the silence persisted for more than ten seconds. Horikita Manabu still showed no intention of opening his mouth to speak. Only the lingering echoes of the distant broadcast and the buzzing hum of the spectator stands filled this patch of emptiness.

"See? I told you your brother's not right today." Fuyuji once again brought his head close and whispered directly into her ear.

"Don't tell me..." Horikita cast a suspicious glance at Fuyuji, her elegant brows furrowing slightly. In a hushed, questioning voice, she asked. "Did you do something to embarrass my brother again?"

"How could that be? I'm very busy, you know."

"Busy wandering around doing nothing every day?" Horikita rolled her eyes at Fuyuji.

"Cough, cough. That's not wandering around. That's gathering inspiration."

"Fuyuji-kun, if you're really that—"

"Suzune." Before the words had even finished, Horikita Manabu abruptly spoke up, cutting off their whispered exchange.

"Hai!" Horikita's body jolted. She hurriedly straightened her posture. "Nii-san."

"I've heard... that you are now the leader of first-year Class D?"

Horikita Manabu's voice betrayed neither joy nor anger. He simply gazed calmly at his little sister.

"Th-this... well... it was thrust upon me by the students in our class. I actually didn't want—"

"Yes or no." Horikita Manabu cut her off once more.

"Yes..."

A voice as faint as a mosquito's whine drifted from Horikita's lips. Her head drooped even lower.

"Why did you, as the class leader, fail to discover the situation with those few students in your class ahead of time?" Horikita Manabu's voice grew increasingly cold and detached. "You must realize—because your Class D has seriously dragged us down this time, the Red Team's score has now been overtaken by the White Team."

"Because... because..."

Horikita's shoulders slowly slumped and sagged, like a little puppy abandoned in the rain. Her voice gradually sank lower and lower, until finally, all she could do was tremble as she spoke. "Sumimasen."

"Oi." A palm directly interposed itself before Horikita. Fuyuji furrowed his brow. "You've gone too far."

Those few from Class D—whether they could even be considered human was debatable. Never mind Horikita Suzune—even you, Horikita Manabu, would have had several layers of skin stripped off before you could walk away.

A brief silence fell. Horikita Manabu's piercing, razor-sharp gaze fixated upon Fuyuji. The air between the two of them, in this very moment, seemed to freeze solid.

"Step aside. This is a matter between us siblings. It's not your place, as an outsider, to interfere."

"Tch." Fuyuji let out a derisive scoff and shot back. "Siblings? How come I never saw you acknowledging she was your sister before? And now you come running over here to claim kinship?"

"..."

Horikita Manabu raised a hand and pushed up his glasses. The sunlight refracted a cold gleam through the lenses. "Interesting. Then... Fuyuji Mikage—in a moment... shall we compete?"

Hearing this, a flicker of surprise flashed through Fuyuji's eyes. Immediately after, he let out a cold sneer. Without showing the slightest weakness, he countered. "How do we compete?"

"The final leg. The one who loses—"

"Enough!"

A cool, clear voice abruptly exploded beside both their ears, forcibly cutting off the two as they locked horns.

Horikita Suzune had one hand clutching the hem of Fuyuji's clothes. Her head was deeply lowered. Her jet-black hair cascaded down over her face, veiling her expression.

She walked with slow, measured steps before Horikita Manabu. Silently, she bent at the waist.

"Hontou ni sumimasen..."

Then, beneath Horikita Manabu's complicated gaze, Horikita took hold of Fuyuji's wrist with one hand and pulled him along, leading him toward the edge of the sports field.

Their pure white athletic shoes stepped across the grass, producing soft, rustling whispers. After putting just a little distance between themselves and the crowd, Horikita released Fuyuji's wrist. She sat down on her own, wrapped both arms around her knees, and buried her cheeks deep between them.

"..."

After letting out a faint, subtle sigh, Fuyuji sat down close beside Horikita as well. He gently laid his palm over her back—and immediately felt a faint, subtle trembling transmit through.

"If you're upset, I can lend you my shoulder to lean on. If you want to cry, you can cry. I won't laugh at you. But hurry it up a bit—we've got less than ten minutes before the competition starts. We can't let that bastard Horikita Manabu look down on us."

"I'm not crying." A voice tinged with a nasal note drifted from the vicinity of his shoulder.

"Alright, alright. Suzune isn't crying." Fuyuji decisively surrendered. Cursing loudly a few times, he vented. "It's all that bastard Horikita Manabu's fault! It's all that bastard Ryuen Kakeru's fault! It's all those useless wastes in your class's fault!"

"No cursing!" Horikita's volume rose a fraction. Then, her voice sank back into silence. "Let me be quiet for a moment."

Fuyuji timely shut his mouth.

"Also..." Her voice grew even softer, nearly scattered and swept away by the wind.

Also?

"Hold me."

In that instant, Fuyuji's entire body jolted. A sea breeze swept past, tousling the hair across his forehead. A faint, delicate fragrance—the scent of a young girl, mingled with the smell of fresh grass—drifted into his nostrils.

Without a word, Fuyuji reached out and gently, tenderly gathered Horikita into his embrace.

The girl's body was very fragrant. Her skin was smooth and supple, firm yet elastic. Her long, black strands of hair tickled his neck, bringing a faint itch. And... there was a trace of warmth at his chest.

Exerting strength with both arms, he lifted the girl and shifted her into a more comfortable position. Then, Fuyuji pressed his palm over her back and slowly, bit by bit, stroked downward along the strands of her hair—as if soothing an injured little kitten.

Her trembling frame gradually settled into stillness. The breath filtering through the fabric and puffing against his chest also grew steady and even.

In the distance, the sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves. The dappled spots of light slowly crept across the withered foliage. Time itself seemed to slow and decelerate in this very moment.

After an indeterminate stretch of time, a muffled, subdued voice drifted out from within his embrace.

"When I was little... I often went to watch my brother's competitions. To cheer for him."

"Mm-hmm. And then?" He murmured in soft response, his chin gently resting against the crown of her head.

"Because my brother learned things very quickly from a young age, and he himself was also incredibly hardworking, he could often take first place in competitions. Standing beneath the stage, I could often hear the spectators around me praising my brother. At that time—when I was still in kindergarten—I felt so, so incredibly proud."

"Not surprising in the slightest."

"As I grew older, more and more people came to recognize how outstanding my brother was. I felt genuinely, sincerely happy about it. Until one day..." Horikita paused briefly. Her voice carried the distant echoes of recollection. "During a math quiz, I accidentally overlooked the final, long-answer problem. In the end, I only scored ninety points. Then the teacher, in a joking tone, said to me: 'If it were Manabu, he wouldn't make this kind of mistake.' It was only then that I realized... I could bring shame to my brother."

"Ah... what a cliched story." Fuyuji said dryly.

"You're the cliched one!" Pinching the soft flesh at his waist, Horikita continued. "And then, in order to not bring shame to my brother, I studied very, very hard..."

Got it, got it. I've never met anyone who works harder than you.

"But... I don't have the kind of talent my brother has. No matter what I did, I could never learn things as quickly as him. And more importantly..." Horikita's voice gradually sank low, carrying a trace of bewilderment. "Compared to my brother, who could interact with people his own age with such ease and composure—I seem to have been born simply unsuited for it. Clearly, what everyone thinks isn't like that at all. As long as you just say what's in your heart, so many things can be resolved so easily. So why... do people feel the need to hide themselves?"

"Later on... I don't know why, but my brother—who had always been so good to me—suddenly grew distant for no reason at all. Gradually, he became cold and indifferent toward me. Finally, after graduating from middle school, he chose to go on to Advanced Nurturing High."

Fuyuji Mikage: "..."

Why is the version I heard completely different from your version?

Exactly! As long as you just say what's in your heart, so many things can be resolved so easily. You two siblings—you're both awkward and fumbling to the absolute extreme.

"I wondered... if I had done something wrong again somewhere. In the two years after he left, I doubled my efforts. I studied everything my brother had left behind. And in the end, following in his footsteps, I came to Advanced Nurturing High."

"And then?" Fuyuji tactfully picked up the thread.

"There is no 'and then.' Or rather—'and then' is right now."

Horikita drew a deep breath. Her head lifted from Fuyuji's chest. Yet the light in her eyes seemed to have brightened and cleared just a little. Grabbing hold of his collar, she slowly rose and pulled away.

"I think I more or less understand the reason why my brother acted the way he did. And I also understand that my brother is very outstanding—but he's not omnipotent. That's all..."

Helping brush the blades of grass from Fuyuji's back, Horikita once again took hold of his wrist. "Let's go back."

"Just like that? Where's your resolve? Where's your explosive power-up?" Fuyuji rose to his feet and asked in utter disbelief. "The atmosphere's been built up this far already—shouldn't we now join forces and take your brother down together in the competition?"

"How could that be possible?" Still holding his hand and leading him back, Horikita replied with exasperation. "First of all—that's my brother. And besides—it's not as though I could beat him anyway."

"So what if he's your brother?"

Fuyuji expressed his disdain. Loosely balling his fist, he made the motion of gripping a dagger and delivering a vicious, ruthless stab.

"One move—and no matter how heaven-defyingly capable that Student Council President Horikita Manabu is—he'll be left drinking the foot-washing water of the two of us."

"Forget it." Horikita raised a hand and pressed it to her forehead. "I can't convince you."

...

In the distance, Horikita Manabu withdrew his gaze. The look behind his lenses seemed to soften by a few degrees. He turned and walked elsewhere.

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50 [Power Stones] = Bonus Chapter!