The moment he rounded the final corner, Ren saw the two runners ahead. Third place. One hundred meters left. Normally, it would be over. But Ren's legs began to truly move for the first time. Harukaze High School—formally Prefectural Harukaze High School, nicknamed Harukaze—held its athletic festival every May. The grounds of the school building, perched on a hill in the Oka-no-Ue district, were swept by sea breeze even today. Cherry trees lined the outside of the 400-meter track, their leaves a vivid green, and beneath them the entire student body was cheering at the top of their lungs. The roar of the crowd grew distant. Only the sensation of pushing off the ground became vivid. He passed the second-place runner. The gap with first place narrowed. The finish line tape rushed toward him— He dove. "[excited]Yeah!! Ren, that was so cool!!" The area erupted. His shoulder was slapped. His name was called. His Year 2 Class A classmates surged toward him. But Ren's eyes were fixed on only one point. At the edge of the grounds. Nanase Hinata, who had already crossed the finish line as the first runner, was watching quietly in that direction. 175 centimeters tall, bright silver short hair. Even under the May sun, he alone seemed to carry a composed air. Eyes as clear and cold as ice—blue eyes that held Ren's gaze directly. Just for a moment. Then Hinata looked away. Something stirred in Ren's chest. A strange feeling he couldn't quite put into words. But before he could think about it, his shoulder was grabbed and he was pulled away. --- In the chaos, Hinata walked toward him. His classmates were still excited. Ren handled them with a smile while his mind tracked Hinata's every movement. He wasn't caught. Probably. No, definitely not caught. "[serious]Nice run." Short. Really short. Hinata said that and held out a bottle of water. Nothing else. Just that. Something exploded in Ren's head. (This is bad. A water bottle. The one Hinata was holding. The one his hand touched. The one being given to me now. Can I take it? Yeah, I'll take it. But how do I—) "[serious]Yeah, thanks." Five words came out. Too normal. Say something more, you idiot. You just ran so cool, but the way you're taking it is way too ordinary. Hinata gave a small nod and immediately looked elsewhere. Ren gripped the bottle while his shoulder was slapped again from behind. "[excited]Ren, that reversal was insane!! You're basically a god!!" "[laughing]A god!! You've got the athletic festival MVP locked in!!" Ren laughed. He laughed while saying "It wasn't that much." He thought he laughed properly. The bottle was lukewarm. (Hinata must have been holding it the whole time. Did he keep it for me? Or maybe he just had an extra. But—) He stopped thinking. There was no point. The answer wouldn't come anyway. Ren and Hinata were childhood friends. They were born and raised in the Oka-no-Ue district—the residential area on the hill where Harukaze High School stood—and had climbed Namiki Slope together since elementary school. That 600-meter slope with its steep grade, lined with ginkgo trees on both sides. From the time they walked that path together, Ren had always been like this. Even when he had something to say, different words came out of his mouth instead. --- After the athletic festival, during the afternoon break. When he entered the club building at the edge of the grounds, he smelled the familiar scent. Sweat, old wood, and faintly, sunscreen. The track and field club room was the second from the back on the first floor. About six tatami mats, with twelve lockers lined up. An old sofa sat in one corner, sagging slightly when you sat on it. A whiteboard displayed the practice menu. On the wall, photos from past Inter-High tournaments were lined up in rows, the oldest one already faded with age. On that wall, in a prominent spot, a handwritten sign was posted. "21 days until the prefectural preliminaries." Ren stopped involuntarily. Twenty-one days. The National High School Athletic Championship Track and Field Prefectural Preliminaries—the Inter-High prefectural preliminaries—were held in mid-June. The venue was the Minato-Hara City Comprehensive Sports Park. The Harukaze track and field club's goal was to take first place in the prefecture in the 4×100-meter relay. Last year they finished second, and that remained a wound for the entire club this year. Club members gathered. Coach Togawa Seiichiro entered, and the atmosphere of the room changed. Togawa was forty-five. A former corporate athlete, his body still lean and toned. He spoke quietly. He rarely shouted. Yet when he said something in that voice, your spine straightened. "[serious]Good work at the athletic festival. But there's no time to get cocky." The room fell silent. "[serious]Twenty-one days until the prefectural preliminaries. You remember finishing second last year. This year, we take first. Run. Don't stop." The same words as the school motto. Prefectural Harukaze High School's motto—"Run. Don't stop." When Togawa said it, those words felt real. One of the club members quietly said "Yes." Other voices followed. Ren said it too. Practice began. When running, he could concentrate. That much was certain. The sensation of pushing off the ground, the swing of his arms, the rhythm of his breathing. All thought disappeared, and there was only running. This, at least, was truly simple for Ren. (The baton pass accuracy is better than yesterday. The handoff with Hinata is—) Hinata was checking the timing ahead. His silver hair glinted in the sunlight. (…Wait, why am I looking there right now?) Ren faced forward. The Harukaze track and field club's 4×100-meter relay team had four members. First runner: Nanase Hinata. Second runner: Sakuragi Ren. Two more runners followed. When passing the baton, when receiving it, it didn't work without trust. That's what this sport was. Not running ability. Trust. And yet Ren was trusting Hinata as a teammate while simultaneously having his head completely full of something entirely different. What was he supposed to do about this? (Focus, focus... Oh, Hinata's shoes are new. When did he change them... No, that's not it!! Run!!) Ren corrected himself and ran at full speed. --- Practice ended and the club members returned to the room. Ren stayed outside alone. He went around the back of the main building, where three vending machines stood in a row. Two benches in the shade. No one around. He sat on a bench and bought a sports drink. He didn't drink it. He held it, feeling it gradually grow lukewarm. As evening came, he heard someone's laughter from the direction of the grounds in the distance. Wind blew, rustling the leaves. The smell of salt drifted from the direction of the sea. Minato-Hara was a town nestled between the sea and hills, and Harukaze High School on the hill received the sea breeze especially well. Ren put his hand in his pocket. A small cloth charm. A little worn, navy blue. He held it in his palm and looked at it. It was his mother's keepsake. When Ren was in third grade, his mother died of illness. The last time he saw her in the hospital bed, she gave him this. "It's a charm," she said. Then she seemed to try to say something more, but couldn't. Ren couldn't say anything either. His father didn't cry. At least not in front of Ren. He kept being strong, acting normal the whole time. Ren grew up watching that. Being tough became natural. Expressing emotion outwardly became scary at some point. That's why it was still like this now, he thought. Even when he had something to say, what came out was words like "Yeah, thanks." "[whispers]Why is one word harder than a full-speed dash around a 400-meter corner...?" Since no one was around, he said it out loud. There was no answer. The wind blew again, slightly ruffling his bangs. His black short hair, which got wavy when he sweated, swayed in the evening breeze. The small piercing in his right ear caught the sunset and glinted faintly. He put the charm back in his pocket. He stood up and took a sip of the now-lukewarm sports drink. It tasted strange. No, the drink tasted normal. It was a matter of mood. He started walking. He went down Namiki Slope and headed home. --- Second floor of the Sakuragi house, his six-tatami room. He collapsed onto his bed. Looking out the window, he could see just a sliver of the sea beyond the rooftops. The sky was darkening, but a faint orange still lingered. He opened his phone. Nothing in particular was happening. Just on a whim. Several notifications had come in the track and field club group chat. "Good work at practice today." "The baton exchange looked good." "Coach Togawa was scary lol." Ren scrolled through and marked them as read. He didn't reply. It was always like that. Then his finger stopped. Hinata's SNS account. Not that he consciously opened it... he told himself, while looking at the screen. There was a new post. A photo. Hinata was smiling. Next to him was a man. Ren didn't recognize his face. The uniform looked the same—Harukaze uniform. But he'd never seen him before. A tall male student about the same age, smiling next to Hinata. The caption just said "New friend!" (…Who?) Ren closed the screen. Opened it. Looked again. (Who is this guy? Where did he meet him? New friend—what does that mean, what kind of friend, what for, track and field? Or something else—) Just then, a notification came in the group chat. He opened it. A message from one of the club members. "Apparently a transfer student is joining the track and field club next week, and they say he's super fast." Ren's thoughts stopped for a moment. Transfer student. Next week. Super fast. The photo from earlier. The man next to Hinata. Harukaze uniform. New friend. The dots were about to connect. Ren lay back slowly on his bed, still holding his phone. He stared at the ceiling. (Could it be... the same person?) There was a way to find out. But part of him didn't want to. If he found out, what would happen? If it was the same person, and he joined the track and field club, and he was close with Hinata... Ren buried his face in his pillow. Then he thrashed around on the bed. The sheets wrinkled. (Wait, hold on. Why am I freaking out like this? It's not like it matters. It's actually good if someone fast joins the team, and if Hinata makes a new friend, that's—) It's fine. Totally fine. It should be fine, and yet. Why was his chest so restless? With his face pressed into the pillow, Ren went still. Outside the window, it had grown dark. From the direction of the sea, he thought he could hear the faint sound of waves. The sound of Minato-Hara at night. A sound he'd been hearing forever. And yet nothing felt settled now. His phone screen lit up again. Another club member had sent a follow-up message: "The fast transfer student—could it be that Kajiwara guy? The one who was rumored in third year?" Ren read it and turned the screen face-down. (Kajiwara. Kajiwara Sota.) He'd heard the name before. Or maybe not—but he had. Somewhere, he'd heard it. The name of a fast transfer student. The athletic festival reversal had happened just hours ago. Back then, the wind on the grounds, the cheers of his classmates, Hinata's "Nice run," all of it had been vivid. But now, all that filled Ren's mind was Hinata's photo and the name of a man he didn't know. He could run 400 meters at full speed. Corners, straightaways, any pressure—his legs remembered. And yet why was a single word so impossibly far away? The wind howled outside the window. Harukaze—the school of wind—passed through its night quietly, as always.