Take Hojou Kyousuke's Class F as an example—thirty students in total, with a near-even split between boys and girls.
Across the school, from Class A to Class J, and over three grade levels, that came to 630 students.
Even divided into three groups, finding a venue large enough for gatherings of this scale wasn't easy.
No one really knew what criteria were used for the division, but in the end, the White Team was sent to the gym.
The Blue Team was placed in the open area in front of the Special Building, and thanks to a certain someone, the Red Team found themselves in the brand-new kendo clubroom.
"Wait, our school has a place this fancy?"
"For real, the floor feels totally different. Did they install springs underneath or something?"
"Whose clubroom is this?"
"Duh, can't you see the banner on the wall? It's obviously the kendo club."
"We have a kendo club? This place would be way more fitting for the volleyball team—they almost qualified for Nationals last year!"
"Man, you seriously don't know anything. That Higashi Kendo Club guy? He's here at Soubu High now. Didn't the principal mention in the entrance ceremony speech that everyone should consider joining the kendo club?"
"Oh crap, I was too busy reading Hojou-kun's novel—I totally forgot."
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Even though the room was spacious, cramming 200 students inside made it feel like a trade show.
The entire space buzzed with chatter and noise.
While it could be said they were on home turf, Kyousuke had no intention of maintaining order.
The moment he stepped in, students from other classes who were in the kendo and baseball clubs lined up to greet him like he was royalty.
His group instantly became the center of attention.
After waving them off, Kyousuke, taking full advantage of his status, led his classmates to a corner and claimed a bench.
He slumped down and yawned, his eyelids already drooping.
"So many people…"
Yuigahama whispered to Shouko beside her, who nodded nervously.
It wasn't just Kyousuke even she was starting to feel anxious about the upcoming group performance.
They were going to perform in front of the entire school, after all.
"This is what makes it fun! A big crowd brings the energy."
Sakura chimed in cheerfully.
What was unbearable noise to others was music to her ears.
She sat with her legs swinging happily, completely unfazed.
Noticing the energy-drained Kyousuke beside her already drifting to sleep, Sakura pulled him gently toward her shoulder.
As his childhood friend, she knew his habits by heart—like they were hardcoded into a computer.
No matter the situation, he always responded the same.
It was his usual nap time, so there was no waking him up now.
Watching his rare, drowsy expression, Sakura took his large hand in hers and smiled sweetly.
Kisaki Tetta suddenly asked something, "Hey Hojou, are you planning to be team captain?"
Being the team captain for the sports festival wasn't exactly a prestigious position.
Usually, third-year students volunteered, and if more than three applied, they had to give a speech in front of the school and face a vote.
It was a thankless, exhausting role.
But that's not how Kisaki saw it.
This was their first major event since entering high school.
The entrance ceremony speech had been a great start, and now was the perfect time to build the image of their "boss" as a true leader.
Becoming team captain would cement that reputation.
Show off leadership, vision, charisma—the whole package.
Then, come the student council elections in the second semester, seize the presidency as a first-year.
That was the goal.
Next, overhaul the school clubs.
Cut the worthless ones, invest in the ones with real potential.
If they could win at least three national championships before graduation, it would naturally pave the way for university-level leadership.
And becoming student council president there, rising in the alumni network, earning the recognition of top graduates, and officially launching into society.
All of that… could start with just one word from his Boss: "Sure."
If he said it, Kisaki Tetta would move mountains to make it happen.
"Shhh—" Sakura glared sharply.
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Kisaki averted his gaze.
His Big Bro was perfect in every way… except for being too into beautiful women.
Sure, charisma was essential for success, but seriously—how could he get any work done when he was surrounded by this much temptation?
He could still talk sense into Kyousuke himself, but not the "sisters-in-law."
He knew exactly how much Yamauchi Sakura meant to Kyousuke.
One word from her, and he'd abandon Kisaki without hesitation.
But that was also what made Kyousuke admirable—he was cold and decisive when it counted.
The sports hall roared with noise.
First-years were overjoyed by their first group event, while second- and third-years reminisced about the past.
Some sports club members were loudly complaining, grumbling things like, "We're in high school already, why are we still doing sports festivals? So lame…"
Sure, their regular training wouldn't stop during the festival, so they did have it harder than most.
But still…
"All those complaints are just a way to flaunt how hard they work. Yet come the actual event, they're more fired up than anyone, enjoying it more than anyone."
"They treat the whole festival like a hunting ground—using their physical prowess to crush the average student and bask in the superiority."
"Driven by instinct, it's downright primitive—like watching apes who never finished evolving. "
"With fake 'elite' like that around, it's no wonder the truly talented have such a hard time."
The cold voice came from nearby.
Yuigahama, who had been sneakily watching Kyousuke, shivered like a gust of icy wind had slipped into her sleeves.
She turned abruptly toward the speaker.
There were still empty chairs behind her, yet this girl stubbornly stood her ground.
Her pleated skirt, paired with black over-knee socks, created a sharp contrast—the much-adored "absolute territory."
Arms crossed over her flat chest, she radiated quiet authority.
Her jet-black hair flowed straight down her back, and from the side, her pale blue eyes gleamed like steel.
They gave off an intense, almost piercing aura.
'She's gorgeous…' Yuigahama couldn't help but admire her.
Almost instinctively, she agreed, "Yeah, totally."
"Yukinoshita-san?" Shouko whispered in surprise.
The girl was none other than Yukinoshita Yukino.
Even though everyone gathered here was from Class F's first-years, and they were in the farthest corner of the dojo, somehow she had wandered in alone.
Sakura tilted her head, glanced at the still-dozing Kyousuke on her shoulder to make sure he hadn't been disturbed, then turned to Yukino with a smile.
"So, Yukino-chan, you're saying that truly exceptional people should help others? Like you?"
"I only meant that's one way to resolve conflict," Yukino replied coolly.
"I don't believe in demanding others sacrifice themselves just to align with someone else's sense of morality."
Yukino turned away, already regretting having said so much.
It was as if she had suddenly started venting like a teenage girl with a close friend.
But Yamauchi Sakura was not her friend. And she had no reason to open up to her.
"Also, please call me Yukinoshita."
"I see. But Yukino-chan, if you become the team captain, wouldn't that give you a reason to ask others to share their resources with everyone?" Yamauchi Sakura continued.
"That's true, but..." Yukinoshita nodded slightly.
"Then just be the captain already!" Sakura declared cheerfully.
"No. I don't want to, and I have no reason to be captain. In the history of Soubu High, no first-year has ever been appointed captain."
"Even among second-years, it's only happened three times. One of them even had to hold a school-wide vote." Yukinoshita refused flatly.
Just like her sister always said—sports festivals were meant to be enjoyed.
Smart people don't go against the group.
Although she didn't entirely agree with that view, still...
If she really did become captain, and if she failed in front of everyone, she'd have to give a speech in front of the whole school.
Then her mother and sister would find out and ask why she went through all that trouble.
That annoying woman would definitely put on that annoying smile, use that annoyingly casual tone and say, "Oh~ So Yukino-chan wanted to be captain too, huh? How sweet. I didn't even think of that when I was your age. My little sister's growing up~."
It would feel like she was only doing this to one-up her sister.
"Wow, that's impressive. You know so much," Yuigahama chimed in.
"It's all written in the school's historical records. You can easily find it in the library. I just happened to memorize it while reading," Yukinoshita said, truthfully.
She hadn't been reading the records specifically to look up the sports festival.
"Really? I don't even know where the library is, so that's still super impressive," Yuigahama said with a smile.
Shouko sat quietly at Kyousuke's right side, simply watching the group talk.
This was her kind of entertainment.
"But Yukino-chan, you're really capable. This would be the perfect opportunity to—" Sakura persisted.
Looking at Sakura's face, Yukinoshita was suddenly reminded of her sister.
That smile—it felt like it saw through everything.
"Alright, Sakura. Maybe you're the one who wants to be captain, and you're just too shy to do it alone, so you're looking for someone to join you?"
Kyousuke straightened up, rotating his stiff neck as he spoke.
"Ah, now that you mention it... Kyousuke is exactly the kind of 'perfect person' Yukino hates."
"He's totally capable of being captain and leading everyone, but instead, he's just lying here napping," Sakura said, clapping her hands like she'd figured out a mystery.
"Idiot. Napping is the third most important part of daily life," Kyousuke muttered, then yawned.
That short doze only made him sleepier.
He pulled out his phone and checked the class schedule.
Unfortunate—first period this afternoon was Yukari's classical literature.
No sleeping through that.
If it were Hiratsuka-sensei's modern lit class, he could've at least nodded off peacefully.
"What's the first and second, then?" Yuigahama asked, glancing between Shouko and Sakura, both of whom grinned silently.
They clearly knew the answer.
But Yuigahama's "read-the-room" superpower let her ask questions that made the speaker comfortable.
"Eating and sleeping. The sleeping I meant there is the night one," Kyousuke replied, as if it were obvious.
He often wondered if Japan's advanced medical system was necessary because people here didn't seem to sleep enough—like they were robots.
"Ohhh, makes sense," Yuigahama nodded seriously, looking like she might sign up for the Nap Appreciation Society on the spot.
Yukinoshita shot Kyousuke a sideways glance.
Even after Sakura's jab, he looked totally unfazed.
She sighed inwardly and said nothing more.
No wonder their mother and sister took an interest in him.
They were all alike.
The dojo remained loud and rowdy.
Kyousuke felt like the air was getting thicker and hotter.
Fortunately, at that moment, two people entered from the back and stepped in front of the students.
The noise dropped a bit—but still hadn't settled.
"Alright, everyone quiet down!" A commanding voice rang out.
Kyousuke nodded to himself—it matched the force of that punch she'd thrown in the office.
"My name is Hiratsuka Shizuka, the instructor for the red team. This is Yukari-sensei, who's here to help."
Sure enough, it was Hiratsuka Shizuka, quite possibly the only teacher in the school who could wear a trench coat in this sweltering heat and not get called out for it.
Kyousuke often joked to himself that her wardrobe must be full of white coats that looked like lab coats.
Of course, that was just a joke.
Thanks to Okudera Miki, they'd been to a few group dinners together.
He'd even seen her in a skirt—great figure, surprisingly.
With her lion's roar, the students finally quieted down.
The second- and third-years were well acquainted with Hiratsuka-sensei, who was always assigned to major school events.
Everyone knew she had her own way of "punishing" troublemakers. But on regular days, she was actually easy to get along with.
As the noise faded, the temperature in the dojo seemed to drop as well.
At the very least, Zaimokuza's shirt wasn't being soaked through anymore.
Cramped, crowded places like this were pure hell for him.
But luckily, he was in the same group as big bro Hojou.
Being here, talking with people who didn't ignore him, chatting about the upcoming events—it felt like a dream come true.
The self-proclaimed Swordmaster General cheered inwardly and silently offered condolences for his buddy from the blue team: Hikigaya Hachiman.
No one else could understand Hachiman's suffering better than he could.
At this very moment, he was probably curled up alone in a corner, neither mingling with his classmates nor reaching out to students from other classes or grades, radiating an aura of gloom, with the giant word "lonely" flashing on his forehead.
Zaimokuza could picture the scene so clearly in his mind, he couldn't help but smirk in amusement.
But reality was slightly different from what he imagined.
The truth was, the kendo club didn't just have students from their class.
Even Hikigaya Hachiman—who once practiced hitting a tennis ball against a wall alone—had immediately sought out other members from his grade upon arrival and struck up awkward small talk.
And they had plenty to talk about, like:
"Damn, why didn't I end up on the same team as president Hojou?"
"This sucks. If they do the pole-toppling contest again, president could wipe us all out single-handedly."
"No kidding. Haven't you sparred with him? Once your blades clash, you can't even move. Forget about finding an opening."
Hachiman had realized something: whenever he brought up someone everyone knew, the atmosphere instantly warmed.
It was a trick he'd discovered back in middle school, when he had no one to talk to during breaks and just watched everyone else quietly.
Even if a conversation went cold, all you had to do was bring up someone well-known, and everyone would jump in.
Sharing their own stories—even if it was just running into them in the cafeteria.
That alone could spark a lively discussion.
Unfortunately, back then, he didn't even have someone like that to talk about. Otherwise, he would've used this secret weapon a long time ago.
'Praise to President Hojou.'
Hikigaya Hachiman inwardly cheered, genuinely excited for the upcoming sports festival.
Even if he got taken down by President Hojou, he'd at least be able to groan and complain with his friends, saying things like, "Well, it can't be helped. He's just way too strong."
Yes, even failure was a form of youth.
What mattered was having people around who failed right alongside you.
In fact, those kinds of memories were the ones that stuck the longest.
Years later, at class reunions, they'd look back and laugh: "I remember you got knocked flat on your back with just a light push—so weak!"
And the other would immediately fire back: "Oh, please. Weren't you the one whining and holding your butt the whole next day during training?"
Then they'd raise their glasses, toasting to the person at the center of that memory, and drift off into reminiscing about the good old days.
'Damn it…' When had he become part of this sweet-talking, nostalgia-fueled scam known as "youth"? Even failure was being romanticized now.
So what about the people who succeeded—were they just pitiful creatures who never got to experience youth?
'Snapping out of it,' Hikigaya scolded himself for being so wishy-washy.
'No, this isn't right. Get it together, Hikigaya Hachiman. Wake up…'
"Ha-chi-maan~~!"
A bright, girlish voice rang out beside him.
Even though he already knew who it was, for a split second he felt like he'd been transported to heaven.
'Come on, don't smile at me like that. Are you an angel sent by God to save me or something?'
"Say it again," he requested, trying to sound composed.
"Huh? Hachiman?" Totsuka Saika tilted his head in confusion.
"Say it—ahem—I mean, weren't you off looking for the tennis club?" Hikigaya forced his brain back on track with sheer willpower.
All his righteous indignation about "youth" vanished in an instant.
"Yeah, I said hi to the upperclassmen, then came to find you," Totsuka said with a smile.
"I see…" Hikigaya nodded, his brain now working overtime to find a new topic.
"I heard from the seniors that our Blue Team's performance might be a parody of Tora-san's Story," Totsuka said, switching subjects smoothly.
"What? But the team leader and performance leader haven't even been chosen yet. How do they already know what the act's gonna be?" Hikigaya frowned.
"Isn't that pretty normal? The ones who'll get chosen are probably the second-years who were super into it last year."
"They probably already planned out what they wanted to do once they became seniors," Totsuka replied, clearly having gathered some useful intel.
"Ah, that makes sense." Hikigaya nodded in understanding.
He wasn't dumb—he just lacked sources.
Now that he had the information, it all added up.
"Damn it. When I'm a third-year, I'm gonna make everyone dance the Kamen Rider theme!" he declared with determination, already plotting to rope his juniors into his own chaotic dream of youth.
"Wait, Hachiman, you like Kamen Rider too? That's perfect! The seniors said our Blue Team's cheer routine includes Kuuga's transformation moves. You should totally join the cheer squad!" Totsuka clapped his hands and beamed.
"…"
'These seniors… abusing their status to do whatever the hell they wanted.'
Fine.
'Then when I'm a senior, we're dancing Ultraman style. And we're building a goddamn Plasma Spark Tower while we're at it.'
Hikigaya Hachiman silently vowed to use the power of his childhood heroes to wage war against this unjust system.