Sport day arrived louder than usual.
The school grounds buzzed with motion—class banners flapping in the breeze, teachers shouting directions through megaphones, students clustering in teams with nervous excitement written all over their faces. The sky was a clean, open blue, the kind that made everything feel sharper and more real.
Zane sat at his desk, watching it all through the open window.
Cheers echoed from outside. Somewhere, someone laughed too loudly.
He pressed a hand against his thigh.
Something felt... off.
Not pain. Not sickness. Just a strange lightness, like his body wasn't entirely where it should be. His fingers felt colder than the room, even though the sun was warm against his skin.
You're just nervous, he told himself.
Sport day always did this to people.
He looked down at the paper in front of him.
Choose one:
Relay Race
Tug-of-War
Ball Tossing
Three-Legged Race
Basketball
Chicken Fight
Zane stared at the list.
None of it felt like him.
Too loud. Too physical. Too visible.
He shifted in his chair, ignoring the way his legs felt oddly weak, like they might not fully listen if he asked them to run. He shook his head slightly and exhaled.
Stop overthinking.
As he hovered his pen over the paper, a movement caught his attention.
Heaven turned around in her seat.
"What are you gonna choose?" she asked, curiosity soft in her voice.
Zane hesitated, then shrugged. "Relay race, I think. I don't have to do much."
She smiled. "That makes sense."
"What about you?"
"Tug-of-war," she said easily. "I like that one."
Of course you do, he thought fondly.
Before he could respond, the teacher clapped her hands.
"Alright, everyone—if you've made your choice, bring your papers up."
Zane stood with Heaven, the room spinning just slightly as he did. He steadied himself, pretending nothing was wrong.
They handed in their papers together, shoulders brushing for just a second.
Then they returned to their seats and opened their notebooks, finishing the work they hadn't gotten to the day before. Pens scratched quietly against paper. Outside, the cheers grew louder.
Zane tried to focus—but the feeling didn't leave.
Instead, it deepened.
Like the day was leaning toward him.
Like something was waiting.
When the bell rang to signal the start of sport day, Zane looked up toward the window again—toward the field, the sky, the noise.
He didn't know why his chest felt tight.
He didn't know why his hands were cold.
But somewhere deep down, something inside him whispered:
"Today won't pass quietly."