CH 48

The players laughed gleefully at the challenge that Kashiwagi-san proposed.

“Hey, come on, I’ve never seen a Japanese in the finals of a short-distance race before, you know?”

“The U.S. swept the podium in the last tournament, and we have three of those people who did so in here.”

“You thought you could win in the short distance if you were lucky? Unfortunately, there are no miracles in track and field, it’s a game of skill.”

Kashiwagi-san dismisses such mockery and speaks to me in a manner as if she were sensing a pleasant autumn breeze.

“Yamamoto, sorry for making this decision on my own. Just don’t get hurt, okay?”

“No-no. It’s fine! But I don’t think I can win! Because I know how fast I was before I lost weight? I was about average for a junior high school kid!”

“Junior high school girls to be exact. But maybe those guys are slower, you never know, unless you try. Ahahaha.”

Kashiwagi-san said, laughing and tapping me on the shoulder.

Well, even if I don’t win, it’d be fine.

This is not even something worth competing for.

But Kashiwagi-san was mocked.

Come to think of it, I think Kashiwagi-san has always been looked at in the same way as she is now.

Just as I was ridiculed for being fat, Kashiwagi-san has surely been mocked, looked down upon, and turned roughly by those around her because she is a woman and a child in the adult world, just as she is now.

I want to protect Kashiwagi-san’s honor by running.

Just for that reason alone, I wanted to get my revenge on them.

“Okay, I’ll run!”

When I said this, the players laughed out loud again.

The supposed coach let out a sigh and said to the players,

“Whoever wants to, deal with him as soon as possible. We’re running out of time.”

That’s when Kashiwagi-san provokes them by crossing her arms and sucking on a Ramune Cigarette.

“Come, all of you together. Yamamoto overcame a life-threatening illness and is standing here now. I don’t think any of you can be a match for him anyway.”

“… Is that so? Good, maybe we have a chance to win.”

The players let out a long sigh after hearing the American sarcasm.

I walked lazily to the starting position of the 100-meter track.

Well, I can’t win anyway, no matter who I face.

But no, I’ve gotta still do my best.

The man who appears to be the coach raises his voice holding a starter pistol.

“On your mark.”

Following such instructions, the players slightly widen their arms from their shoulder width and place their fingers on the ground, and raise their knees on the front side.

Then, they extend their other leg, raise their hips and remain still.

I, on the other hand, was standing but quickly put my left arm out in front of me, pulled my right leg back, and took a stance before running.

The man who seemed to be the coach looked at me and gave me a strange look.

“… what’s up? Get into position now.”

“Erm, sorry. This is fine, I’ve never done a crouching start before, so… I’ll probably fall.”

When I said this, a laugh escaped from some of the players.

But the player next to me, with a thick vein on his forehead, whispered to me.

“I hate those who run half-jokingly like that… I’ll crush them with my fastest run, so be prepared.”

For the first time, I regretted not knowing English.