Chapter 4: An unexpected Twist

Time had passed quickly, and the long-awaited Sports Day had finally arrived.

Mike had told me he’d find someone to switch places with me. But in the end, he went straight to the teacher and asked for my exemption.

No confrontation. No questions.

Now, watching from the sidelines while my classmates gave it their all, I couldn’t shake the feeling of uselessness.

Everyone was drenched in sweat and laughter. Our class was winning in nearly every event—thanks to Mike’s sharp eyes and strategic planning.

He had matched each person to the sport that played to their strength. It worked like a perfectly balanced machine.

I should’ve felt proud.

Instead, I just felt like a spare part.

The sun was beginning to dip lower, casting long shadows across the track. The final matches were underway when murmurs suddenly rippled through the crowd.

“Is she okay?”

“What happened to Ayumi?”

I turned toward the voices.

Mike was crouched slightly in front of Ayumi, who was seated on the edge of the field, her ankle wrapped loosely in a towel.

She winced as she tried to stand.

“You good?” Mike asked, his voice calm but edged with tension.

“It’s not bad. I can still run,” Ayumi said quickly, still trying to participate. “Really, I’m fine!”

Mike stood up straight, expression unreadable. “Arata. Take her to the nurse's office.”

Arata blinked. “You sure?”

“Go,” Mike said flatly. “If she stays, she’ll only make it worse.”

“But I can still—” Ayumi started, her voice desperate.

“You trying to drag me down with you?” Mike cut in coldly, eyes narrowing. “Go quickly or stay here. Decide.”

The words were harsh. Sharp as ever.

But under that chill was something else.

Concerned, masked and guarded.

Before I could fully process what I was witnessing, Mike’s voice suddenly cut through my thoughts.

“Lissa.”

My head snapped up. He was looking at me now, eyes steady, unreadable as always.

“Can you be the substitute?” he asked, and just like that, the entire group turned to face me.

Their eyes flicked between Mike and me, uncertain.

“Huh?” I blinked, caught off guard.

Ayumi gave a sheepish laugh. “It’s the three-legged race. I was supposed to pair with Mike. But… yeah.”

The silence after that felt like a vacuum.

My heart thudded in my chest as the attention shifted towards me.

“S-sure,” I managed to say.

The tension eased slightly, but I could see some exchanged looks. It was as if they were questioning whether I could be trusted with this.

Well I always stayed in the shadows after all, I wondered if they even noticed my existence.

Especially when the race was crucial. If we won this, our class would secure the overall championship.

Everyone here wanted to win.

Talk about pressure.

“Let’s go.” Mike didn’t wait for further comments.

He turned on his heel and started walking toward the starting line. I trailed after him, my nerves unraveling with every step.

We stopped near the track where a staff member handed us a long red ribbon.

Mike crouched without a word and tied one end of the ribbon around his left ankle. I hesitated, then did the same on my right.

The fabric pressed warm against my skin.

Three-legged race.

The kind of race that depended not on speed, but on rhythm. On trust.

Mike stood beside me, close enough that we could feel each other's breath.

Without saying a word, he naturally wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I slipped mine around his broad back.

Was I really this short, or was he just that tall?

My head was barely at his chest level. I started to worry the height difference might throw us off.

I bit my lip, anxiety curling in my stomach.

Then, unexpectedly, he gently patted my shoulder. The one already wrapped around him.

“Relax,” he whispered close to my ear. "We’ll move on my count, right foot first. Match your steps with mine. Don’t overthink it.”

His voice was low, deep, and so close it sent a shiver down my spine.

“O-Okay,” I said, heart pounding.

The whistle blew.

We started moving.

“One—two,” Mike counted under his breath. Our legs moved as one—right foot, left foot, right again.

It was awkward at first, our bodies too close, unfamiliar. But Mike's pace was steady, his frame solid beside mine, and somehow that helped.

“One—two.”

We picked up speed.

The crowd roared around us as we passed one group… then another.

The wind picked up, and my hair whipped past my cheeks as our steps fell into sync. My breaths grew short.

My wrist ached slightly, but nothing unbearable.

“One—two,” Mike’s voice stayed calm, unwavering.

I could feel the heat of him beside me, the quiet strength in his presence. We were still tethered, literally and figuratively, and for once, I didn’t feel like a burden.

We crossed the finish line.

First place.

The crowd exploded.

Someone clapped me on the back. Someone else yelled out our names.

I barely heard them.

All I could hear was the thundering in my chest, the adrenaline still pumping through me.

Mike untied the ribbon silently.

I looked up at him with a wide smile, catching my breath.

“You did well,” he said simply with a gentle smile on his face.

His gaze held mine for a beat—calm, maybe even warm.

A laugh escaped me, unexpected and light.

I didn’t think I’d enjoy it. But it was… fun.