Today was Halloween.
In the spirit of "adding a splash of color to our girls' youth," Student Council President Symboli Rudolf waved her hand magnanimously and gave every grade at Central Tracen a full day off—so everyone could revel in the festival's whimsical charm.
Right now, Oguri Cap's classroom had been transformed: jack-o'-lanterns, webs, and fluttering ghost garlands draped the walls, saturating the air with holiday mischief.
"Trick or treat!"
Two girls in adorable cosplay pulled playful faces and blocked Oguri's path like a pair of gleeful imps.
The famed Grey Monster just stood there, a little dazed. She wore a dashing pirate getup with an exaggerated white fake mustache perched on her face—equal parts silly and cute.
Beside her, silver-haired Fujimasa March was the picture of a vampire noble—one hand on her hip, watching the hullabaloo with a helpless, fond smile.
"...What is this?" Oguri tilted her head and tugged the mustache.
She'd barely stepped through the doorway when over-excited classmates had whisked her into the back room and—hands everywhere—changed her into the costume. She was still foggy on the details.
"Today you have to wear something weird!"
"Because it's Halloween!"
In front of her, Sakura Chiyono O—done up as a little witch—and Dido Shooter—in a wolf-girl outfit—chimed in, pointing at Oguri with theatrical flourish.
"We didn't think you'd come in uniform, Oguri!"
"At first we honestly thought you deliberately dressed that plain on purpose!"
"..."
Oguri was quiet for a beat, then pinched the pirate jacket between small fingers and offered a sober verdict: "But this is a little hard to move in."
"Eh? Not to your taste?"
Dido blinked, clapped once in sudden understanding, then shhhp pulled open the curtain to the back room.
In an instant, dozens of wildly varied cosplay outfits marched into view like an army—princess gowns to knight mail and everything between.
"!"
The spectacle shocked the Grey Monster. She instinctively shuffled back several steps, shielding Fujimasa March with her body, eyes watery. "March..."
…
After a round of playful chaos, the rooftop.
Fujimasa March and Oguri Cap had found a clean patch of concrete and sat shoulder to shoulder, quietly admiring the flawless blue above.
An autumn breeze—cool, but gentle—stirred their hair, sweeping away the classroom's noisy heat and leaving a pocket of calm.
"Oguri, are you ready?"
In the hush, March turned, a soft smile on her lips. "Only ten days left~"
Oguri, who'd been zoning out and savoring the breather, gave a tiny start. Her slightly hazy eyes drew back into focus. The sky, the breeze—both seemed to recede in that instant, replaced by a looming horizon of nerves and unknowns.
She sat in silence for a moment, slowly closed her hand into a fist, and nodded with earnest gravity.
"Mm. I'm ready."
The words were quiet—but firm.
Looking at the serious face with its faintly dopey charm, Fujimasa March chuckled and shook her head.
"Oguri, you're still the same as ever."
"?"
The grey-maned girl tilted her head, baffled.
"Heh." March tipped her chin to the sky.
"Back in Kasamatsu, you were like this—strong, pure. You showed me what an era of difference really feels like."
"I had no thought of surpassing you back then. I just wanted to stand on the course longer than you did—that would have been enough..."
Oguri waved her hands in a fluster: "But March is strong now, too!"
"...Yeah. I am."
After a brief quiet, March tightened her fist, then spoke softly: "Oguri, when I was at Oi, I had a good friend—and a good rival."
"Seiran Nichirin. That's her name."
"Like you, she was my third real opponent..."
March's eyes were earnest, memory carrying her back to mud-splashed duels, shoulder to shoulder and stride for stride.
"At first, beating her wasn't easy. But little by little, I got stronger."
"So strong that—even if Nichirin burned everything—she couldn't keep up by even a sliver..."
"Watching her chase with everything she had—I saw my old self, the one who looked up at you."
Her voice stayed even. "In that moment, I realized: the me who beat Nichirin had become the you who once beat me."
Oguri's face gentled; she watched March quietly.
"But in the end, I found I'm different from you, Oguri..."
March's smile warmed. "You stand on your talent, your strength, your hard work."
"Even without anyone else's influence, you would have reached this point."
"I'm not the same. My power didn't come from effort alone..."
"So I don't run just for myself."
Silver eyes, clear as a stream—some thought crossed her mind and happiness lit her face. "I run for me—and for everyone behind me who supports and believes in me."
"So, Oguri—this Mile Championship, I'll win!"
It wasn't bluster. It was the truest challenge.
March looked at Oguri, steady as a drawn bow.
As the witness to Oguri's Domain—the Grey Monster—March dimly sensed their strengths were rooted in utterly different soil.
Back then, when Oguri awakened her Domain, the self she understood was: running is joy. Not for herself, not for others—just the pure wish to run. And the gate to her Domain opened.
March's was different.
Her Domain awakened from will—for Kasamatsu's friends, and for Kuroha.
One Domain born from a purity that exists only to run.
One Domain born from a tangle of answers—to self, to others, to everything.
They were destined, absolute rivals.
Faced with March's eyes—burning with will—Oguri fell silent.
She chewed on the tangled words for a long time before she finally spoke, voice as calm as ever:
"I... don't really understand."
She said it honestly—then bloomed into a small, dazzling smile.
"But running together with March makes me happy."
"So I'll run with everything I have."
No barbed boasts. No dense philosophy.
Just the simplest—and truest—reply.
March froze, then laughed—a bright, unguarded laugh from the heart.
"...That's more like you."
The breeze stroked the rooftop.
Two girls in outlandish costumes said nothing more, simply sitting side by side.
The gauntlet was down. The answer had been given.
All that remained was to step onto the stage, under a million eyes, and prove—by running—whose road would reach the line first.
Clack—!
The rooftop door banged open.
A girl burst in, "Dream" headband tight across her brow, armband of the disciplinary committee on her sleeve, cop cosplay complete.
"Rooftop access is prohibited today!"
"I'm placing you under arrest!"
"..."
Oguri flinched hard—and, under the twin stares of her companions, the "current strongest" shrank and whispered:
"Um... please call my lawyer..."
"Ahh—no, no!" Aotake Memory flailed, then bowed in a panic. "I was just joking—sorry!"
Watching from the side, March covered her mouth with a giggle, the tension melting from her face.
…
Meanwhile, in Kuroha's office, Fumino stood awkwardly near the door.
In front of her, Super Creek was burrowed under a blanket, making tiny, mortified noises unfit for outsiders' ears.
Kuroha had already returned to his desk, nursing a cup of tea. After nearly ten minutes of letting the girl savor the lingering afterglow, he couldn't help a polite cough.
"Creek, up."
"What is it, Sensei~"
Super Creek peeked out, bleary—then spotted Fumino standing by Kuroha's side.
"...Wahy—!!!"
One of the Eternal Big Three proceeded to deliver the most embarrassing scene of the past three years.
(End of Chapter)
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