Hachiman's POV
Scratch, scratch, scratch...
What about this section? If I want the main set to be high-intensity, I should probably keep the warm-up light to avoid early fatigue. But if I go too easy, she won't have the conditioning to survive the final stretch. If she breaks before the main session, the whole day is wasted. Damn... this is a balancing act I'm not sure I'm qualified for.
"...y-kun. Hikigaya-kun! Hachiman!"
"Whoa!" I jumped slightly, my pen nearly skidding across the paper. I looked up to see Kiryuin standing there, arms crossed. "Oh, it's just you, Kiryuin. What's up?"
"'What's up?' is my question," Aoi sighed, leaning against the desk. "Exactly how long were you planning on staying in that trance? It's nearly midnight."
"What?"
I glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:30 PM. That couldn't be right. Last I checked, it was barely nine. Time has a nasty habit of disappearing when you're overthinking. I knew I'd been at it for a while, but I didn't realize I was pushing into the next day.
"Sorry, Kiryuin. I guess I got a bit carried away."
"A bit? I finished training with Mejiro Bright and got back here around six-thirty," she noted, her eyes scanning the stacks of paper on my desk. "You've been in that exact spot, in that exact pose, for five hours. What on earth are you writing that requires that much focus?"
"Training menus. Specifically, for the Tenno Sho Spring."
"I see..." Kiryuin's expression softened into one of professional respect. "I knew you were diligent, but I didn't think you were the type to lose yourself like this. Is the McQueen hurdle really that high?"
"...Yeah. Something like that."
Because when someone looks you in the eye with that kind of raw, unfiltered sincerity, you don't just "try." You either meet it head-on, or you don't bother showing up at all.
Flashback: The Clubroom, Earlier that Week
"Ugh! Done for the day!" CB groaned, stretching her arms until her joints popped.
"You say that every single afternoon like it's a catchphrase," Rudolf remarked, though she was also wiping sweat from her brow.
"Hey, I mean it every time! Though, honestly, Hachiman's sessions are so weirdly fun that part of me wants to keep going."
"I have to agree," Rudolf said, turning to me. "Your training methods are... unconventional, to say the least. I often find myself wondering where you come up with these ideas. It's quite educational."
"Glad you're enjoying the show," I muttered, packing up my bag.
Rice, however, was silent. She'd been quiet since we finished the cool-down laps.
"Rice? You okay?" CB asked, her playful tone dropping. "You've been in your own world today."
"...Big Brother," Rice said, her voice small but steady. "About the Nikkei Sho the other day. Was it... was it a good race?"
I paused. "Results aside? Yeah. I think it was a great race. Your timing on the final spurt was perfect. You controlled the pace from the front, which is exactly what we practiced."
"Then... if I run like that again... can I beat Mejiro McQueen?"
The question hit the room like a lead weight. It was the first time Rice had ever asked for a blunt comparison like that. She wanted to know if her best was enough to topple a titan.
I looked at her. I could have lied. I could have given her some generic, "As long as you believe in yourself!" nonsense. But that's not who I am, and it's not what she deserved.
"Honestly? No. You'd lose."
"...I thought so," Rice whispered, looking at the floor.
"Brother!" Rudolf snapped, her eyes flashing. "Surely you could have phrased that with more care."
"She asked for the truth, Rudolf. McQueen is the two-time defending champion of the Tenno Sho Spring. She has the home-field advantage at Kyoto, she has years of experience, and she's a master of the track. Rice has only run at Kyoto once—for the Kikuka Sho. On paper, there are a dozen reasons why Rice loses and maybe one or two why she wins. Ignoring that won't help her."
"So you're saying she can't win?" CB asked, her voice uncharacteristically sharp.
"I didn't say that. McQueen is a world-class middle-to-long-distance hybrid. Her record-breaking win at the Osaka Hai proved that her speed is on another level. Rice can't match her for raw speed in a middle-distance sprint. But... there's one area where Rice is superior."
Rice looked up, her ears twitching. "What area?"
"Endurance. Pure, unadulterated stayer potential. McQueen is a genius who can do everything. But you? You're a specialist. You were born for the long haul. If the race becomes a battle of who can suffer the longest, who can keep their legs moving when the oxygen runs out... my money is on you."
"..."
"What about me?" CB asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"You're like McQueen," I deadpanned. "A freak of nature with a wider range, though you're probably more annoying to race against."
"I'll take it! ♪"
"Big Brother," Rice said. She stepped toward me, and for the first time, I saw a look in her eyes that sent a genuine chill down my spine. It wasn't fear. It was hunger. "Rice... Rice wants to beat McQueen."
The intensity in her gaze was staggering. This wasn't the "Please protect me" Rice Shower from a few months ago. This was an athlete demanding the tools to kill a king.
"...Alright," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "If that's what you want, I'll give you everything I've got. But fair warning: you're going to see hell."
"Eh?"
"McQueen has every advantage. To bridge that gap, you don't just need better legs—you need a spirit that can override your biology. There's a trainer I know—Blacknuma, Bourbon's guy. He once told me that the mind can surpass the body. To get you to that level, I'm going to have to harden my heart. I'm going to push you until you want to quit. I'm going to say things that'll make you hate me. And the menu? It's going to be brutal. Do you still want in?"
Rice didn't even blink.
"Yes! I want to do it! Rice wants to win!"
"Fine. We start tomorrow. Rudolf, CB—you're welcome to join, but don't feel like you have to finish every set. This is Rice's burden. I'm not going to hold her back for your sake."
"Depending on the menu, I intend to see it through to the end," Rudolf said, her face set in stone. "I won't let my rival outwork me."
"We're your trainees too, Hachiman," CB added, her usual grin replaced by a look of fierce loyalty. "We aren't letting one of our own walk through hell alone."
"...Thanks."
Present Day
"When someone asks for help like that," I muttered to the empty room, "how am I supposed to give them anything less than my best?"
"Did you say something, Hikigaya-kun?" Kiryuin asked.
"Nothing. Just talking to myself. I'm heading out now. Sorry for making you worry."
"Don't mention it. Just... try to get some sleep. You'll need it if you're planning on being a demon tomorrow."
"Yeah. I know."
As I walked out into the cool night air, I looked up at the moon. Tomorrow, the "Rose of Kyoto" would begin her transformation. And I'd be the one holding the thorns.
The Spartan training regime begins next chapter!
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