The transition from the sterile, clinical hallway of the infirmary to the boys' changing room was a sensory assault. If the infirmary smelled of antiseptic and lingering anxiety, the changing room smelled of unwashed gym bags, cheap body spray, and the distinct, humid musk of thirty teenage boys in the throes of puberty.
Renji stepped inside, his expression carefully neutral, though internally he was repressing the urge to hold his breath. He moved to his locker, no. 15, and opened it with a fluid motion.
"Alright! Let's do this! The measurements were just a warm-up!"
Takumi slammed his locker door open a few feet away, the metallic clang echoing off the tiled walls like a gunshot. He was already half-undressed, hopping on one foot as he tried to yank his trousers off without taking off his shoes, a feat of clumsiness that seemed to defy the laws of physics.
"Takumi," Renji called out while unbuttoning his shirt. "You're going to trip."
"I'm practicing my balance!" Takumi insisted, finally freeing his leg and nearly stumbling into a wooden bench. He righted himself, grinning wildly. "Besides, I'm pumped! Did you see the weather through the window? It's practically summer out there!"
Renji folded his uniform trousers and hung them neatly on the hook inside his locker. He glanced at Takumi's pile of clothes, which looked like they had been detonated rather than removed.
"It is just the beginning of April," Renji noted dryly, removing his tie. "It's supposed to be spring, you know. But this heatwave is really unnatural. It's likely a high-pressure system stalling over the Kanto region."
"It's not a high-pressure system, it's passion!" Takumi declared, pulling on his gym shirt which was already slightly wrinkled from being stuffed in his bag. "And I need it. After that measurement disaster... I need to remind everyone that height and weight aren't everything."
Takumi paused, looking at Renji who had just removed his undershirt.
For a brief moment, the chatter in the locker room dipped. It wasn't silence, but a noticeable drop in volume.
Renji wasn't just thin or fit. His body was a work of sculpted art, a testament to a discipline that a normal high schooler couldn't comprehend. His abdominal muscles were defined but not bulky, arranged in a perfect six-pack that disappeared into the waistband of his gym shorts. His obliques cut sharp lines against his hips, and his back muscles shifted like steel cables under his skin as he reached for his jersey. It was the body of a swimmer or a gymnast — functional, aesthetic, and lethal.
Takumi looked at his own reflection in the small mirror on his locker door. He himself wasn't in bad shape, he had the average, wiry build of a healthy teenager who played casual sports, but next to Renji, he looked like a rough pencil sketch placed next to a Louvre masterpiece.
"Seriously," Takumi muttered, a flicker of genuine insecurity crossing his face. "Do you eat protein powder for breakfast? It's just not fair. You're smart, rich, and you have... that."
Renji pulled his navy-blue gym shirt on, masking the weaponry.
"Sigh. I eat a balanced diet, Takumi. Unlike you, who considers 'melon bread' a food group. Do you think I scold you for your eating habits without any reason?"
Takumi slapped his cheeks with both hands, the sharp crack-crack sound drawing eyes again.
"It doesn't matter!" Takumi shouted, forcing the insecurity down and pumping himself up. "Muscles are just the exterior! Things like Kendo and Track-and-Field are about explosive power! Spirit! And guts!"
He turned to Renji, his eyes burning with a sudden, intense fire.
"Renji! I challenge you!"
Renji paused while tying his shoelaces and tilted his head, offering a look of mild amusement. "To what?"
"To a fifty-meter dash!" Takumi pointed a finger at him dramatically. "I'm going to set the class record today. I'm going to run so fast that Hina forgets about the scale! I'm going to blow away the gloomy vibes with pure speed!"
Renji sighed internally. 'So that's it.'
Takumi's logic was simple: Hina is sad about her weight -> Girls like cool guys -> Fast guys are cool -> If I run fast, Hina will be happy.
It was such a fundamentally stupid, shonen protagonist line of reasoning that Renji almost admired it. Takumi believed that if he just generated enough energy, the world would brighten up. He didn't understand that Hina didn't want energy; she wanted reassurance. She wanted to feel safe, not entertained.
"Fine." Renji stood up, smoothing his jersey. "But you know that I won't go easy on you, right?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way!" Takumi grinned. "Don't come crying to me when you eat my dust, Prince-sama!"
"Just make sure you don't pull a hamstring." Renji replied coolly. "I don't want to have to carry you to the infirmary again."
"Heh! Watch me!" Takumi grabbed his headband, a red strip of cloth he only wore during "serious modes", and tied it around his forehead.
Renji checked the [Frustration Gauge] floating invisibly above Takumi's head.
[Target: Hoshino Takumi]
[Status: Over-Motivated / Compensating]
[Current Thought: "I have to look cool. I have to be the Ace. I have to make Hina smile."]
"Then after you, future record-breaker." Renji smiled, gesturing to the door with mock chivalry.
Takumi didn't need to be told twice. He burst out of the locker room door with the energy of a cannonball, his unbuttoned gym jacket flapping behind him like a cape.
"Let's go, the track awaits us!" Takumi shouted, his voice echoing down the corridor.
Renji stepped out a moment later, closing the door gently behind him making the contrast immediate. While Takumi ran ahead, like he was dodging invisible ninjas and practicing his start-dash form in the middle of the hallway, Renji walked with a casual, fluid grace. He rolled his shoulders slightly, adjusting to the lighter fabric of the gym uniform, his eyes scanning the environment.
The hallway leading was a common area, and right now, it was crowded with students from Class 2-C who were heading back from their own PE session.
As Takumi zoomed past a group of girls from Class C, he nearly collided with one of them.
"Whoa! Watch out! High-speed vehicle coming through!" Takumi yelped, side-stepping clumsily and nearly tripping over his own feet.
The girls giggled, not in admiration, but in a polite, slightly awkward way people laugh at a puppy running into a wall.
"Hoshino-kun sure… is energetic today, isn't he?" one of them whispered loud enough to be heard.
"He's wearing a headband... is it Sports Festival season already?" another giggled.
Takumi, oblivious to the nuance, flashed them a thumbs-up. "Just preparing to break records, ladies! Be sure to watch the field!"
Then, Renji walked past and the giggling stopped instantly.
Renji didn't do anything special but the gym uniform, unlike the stiff blazer, exposed the lean, corded muscle of his forearms and the column of his neck. His hair was slightly mussed from the change, giving him a roguish, post-workout appeal that hit the teenage demographic like a tactical strike.
"Ah... its Kamishiro-kun..."
"He looks good in the jersey, doesn't he?"
"The blue suits him."
Renji caught their gazes and offered a small, polite nod and a smile in acknowledgment.
"Sorry about the ruckus." Renji said, his voice smooth and low. "My friend is a little... over-hyped today."
The girls blushed in unison, practically melting against the lockers. "N-No problem, Kamishiro-kun!"
Renji continued walking, leaving a trail of silent swooning in his wake. Ahead of him, Takumi was waiting by the shoe lockers, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Renji! You're slow! A runner needs to be explosive, you know! Bam! Swoosh! Like that!" Takumi illustrated this with frantic hand gestures.
"A runner also needs to tie his shoes properly, or they might fall on their face." Renji pointed out, stopping at his designated shoe locker.
He knelt down to swap his indoor uwabaki for his outdoor running sneakers. Takumi, predictably, was jamming his feet into his sneakers without untying the laces, crushing the heels in the process.
"It's faster this way… It's about efficiency…" Takumi grunted, finally forcing his heel in.
Renji sighed at Takumi's antics. He simply finished tying his own laces in a perfect double-knot, then stood up and looked at Takumi.
"Come here." Renji called him.
"Huh?"
Renji reached out and grabbed the collar of Takumi's gym jacket. It was folded inward, making him look dishevelled. Renji flipped it out and smoothed it down with a sharp tug.
"If you're going to set a record, look the part." Renji chided gently. "You look like you just wrestled with someone."
Takumi blinked, then grinned, scratching the back of his head. "Thanks, mom. You worry too much."
"Someone has to."
"Alright! Boots on the ground, and let's go!"
Takumi kicked the heavy double doors open.
…
The shift upon exiting the building was instantaneous. The cool, climate-controlled air of the school corridors vanished, replaced by a wall of humidity that felt more like July than April. The sunlight was blindingly white, reflecting off the concrete path that led to the dirt track.
"Ugh," Renji muttered under his breath, shielding his eyes with his hand. "The UV index is definitely high today."
"It's a glorious day!" Takumi shouted, spreading his arms like he was embracing the sun. "I can feel the... photosynthesis! Yeah, that!"
"That's for plants, Takumi."
"…"
They walked down the concrete path toward the red clay track where Class 2-A was gathering. The heat radiated up from the ground, creating shimmering mirages in the distance.
Renji's eyes scanned the field, his [Empathy Insight] active, but his natural observational skills doing most of the work. He took in the scene with the appreciation of a man who understood the genre he was living in.
The girls of Class 2-A were already stretching. The Kosei Academy gym uniform for girls consisted of navy blue, high-cut athletic shorts and white t-shirts. It was a standard design, but under the oppressive sun, the galgame-logic of the world was in full effect.
The white shirts, damp with the first sheen of perspiration, clung to skin, becoming slightly translucent in the harsh light. The high-cut shorts left legs exposed to the sun. It was a scene designed to distract teenage boys, and indeed, half the class was trying desperately not to stare while pretending to stretch their hamstrings.
'In this world, even the weather is a plot device.' Renji thought, admiring the view with the calm, refined eye of a true connoisseur.
His gaze landed on the "No-Go Zone" near the equipment shed.
Nishimura Mika was there. She wasn't just sitting; she was draped over a bench like a melting painting. She had rolled up the sleeves of her gym t-shirt to her shoulders, exposing her tanned arms, and was fanning herself with a vengeance. Even from this distance, Renji could see the aura of pure irritation radiating off her.
And a few feet away from her, standing awkwardly in the sun because the bench was full, was Aihara Hina.
Renji narrowed his eyes.
Hina was zipped up fully in thirty-degree weather.
Her track jacket was pulled up to her chin. Her hands were shoved deep into her pockets, pulling the fabric away from her body to create a tent-like shape, desperately trying to hide the silhouette of her chest. Her face was an alarming shade of red, sweat matting her bangs to her forehead.
"She's going to get heatstroke at this rate…" Renji murmured, his mask slipping for a second into genuine concern.
"Who?" Takumi asked, squinting. "Oh! Hina's there! Hey! Hina!"
Takumi waved both arms, sprinting ahead toward the girls.
"I'm here! The Ace has arrived! Watch this race, Hina! It's for you!"
Renji watched him go as Takumi ran straight toward the girl who was trying to hide her body, shouting loud enough to draw every eye on the field directly to her. Hina flinched, shrinking further into her jacket.
"You absolute idiot..." Renji whispered.
He adjusted his own pace, moving toward the starting line.