Festive fire bloomed overhead like red peonies, and cheers rose like a tide; then applause crashed in, a rolling thunder against stone walls.

The sports festival opened, and a single thought swept the crowd like wind through tall grass.

“Then, the annual campus meet—starts now!” The mic popped like a spark in dry pine.

The Student Council president was absent, so another voice filled the empty podium, like a lantern set where the lamp should be.

While joy spilled like sunlight over one side of the crowd, two girls held each other on the other side, an island of shade in a sea of heat.

Warmth pooled from Mizuki’s arms like spring water. Yun Shi didn’t want to let go; her heart clung like ivy. But pride nipped at her heel like a cold wind, and she knew she couldn’t stay.

“That’s enough. Let me go…” Her voice was a leaf caught on a branch.

If the hug kept going, she feared she’d grow addicted to this warmth, like a cat to a sunbeam.

“Yun Shi, you must have your reasons, right?” Mizuki’s words were a soft bell.

“…”

“Tell me—what happened?” Urgency flickered in her eyes like a lantern in dusk.

Mizuki needed to know what her absence had let grow, what thorn had made Yun Shi wear that look.

Silence fell over Yun Shi like fine snow. Her mouth opened, then closed, like a fish under ice.

Mizuki let go, then set her hands on Yun Shi’s shoulders, steady as mountain stone, gaze honest as a clear stream.

Under that look, Yun Shi’s skin went hot, a blush rising like dawn. She coughed twice, two dry knocks on a door.

“Honestly… we had a fight… I guess.” The words tumbled like pebbles.

Their tangled ties were a knotted kite string; to fix it wasn’t easy, to explain it was worse.

In the end, after a hazy trickle of words, the meaning surfaced like a carp.

In short, it was about feelings. Friends teased them about yuri, so the talk of love flared, and the clash came, sparks on dry reeds.

“So, everyone ended up fighting?” Mizuki’s tone was a gentle net.

“Something like that…” Yun Shi groped for words like hands in fog. Please let this idiot understand, she prayed, half annoyed, half relieved.

Mizuki put the pieces together like tiles in a pattern. She hadn’t expected so much to shift while she was away, like a garden after a week of rain.

“I’ll handle the others. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” Her calm was a warm stove.

“Easy to say. You don’t even know the details…” Yun Shi’s doubt was a small thorn.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. We’ll fix it~” Her cheer was a paper crane floating up.

“How do you even keep that mindset…” The question was a sigh on glass.

“Right—your outfit, Yun Shi… it actually fits you.” Mizuki’s gaze turned curious, like a cat watching snow.

She shifted the topic and looked Yun Shi over. She hadn’t checked earlier; now that she did, the dress fit too well—if you ignored the word “boy.”

“D-don’t look, you idiot!” Panic flared; she clutched her chest like a thief guarding loot. It did nothing, a fan against a storm.

“Heh. That reaction’s adorable. Did Mai make you wear it?” Mizuki’s laughter rang like chimes.

“Shut up! Don’t even mention it. She tricked me—otherwise I’d wear this over my dead body!”

“But it looks good on you, doesn’t it?” The tease landed like a tap on water.

“It doesn’t at all! I’m a boy!” Her protest shot up like a startled sparrow.

“Ehh… a boy…” Mizuki’s eyes drifted, thoughts lining up like stones.

“Honestly, like this, you look no different from a regular girl.” Her voice was a mirror.

“…” Isn’t that obvious? I am a girl. The thought floored her like a soft blow.

Inside, Yun Shi tangled herself like willow branches in wind. In her heart she still filed herself under “boy,” yet she was sliding, day by day, into “girl.” Mizuki’s words tugged both ways like twin tides.

Am I sad—or happy…

“By the way, if you’re dressed like that, you’re cheering for your class, right?” Mizuki’s reminder was a bell at noon.

“Crap! I forgot!” Panic cracked like ice.

She’d slipped away on her own, and now the start was upon her like a drumbeat.

No more dawdling. She sprinted for the field, feet drumming like hooves. She was on the cheer squad—being late was unforgivable.

“Yun Shi… too fast…” Mizuki watched the boyish figure dart off, and a helpless smile curved like a crescent moon. She seemed brighter already, not the shadowed person from before.

And Yun Shi didn’t feel lonely anymore. Heat grew in her chest like an ember; even running, a smile kept sneaking out, a sparrow in spring.

Idiots can be reliable too, she thought, warmth spreading like tea.

“You’re late, Bianqi! Our class is about to start!” A voice cracked like a whip.

“Quit nagging! Be grateful I even made it!” Yun Shi tossed her chin like a cat with nine lives.

Same old pride. As the events kicked off, she slipped into the cheer line as smooth as a fish into a current.

Mizuki headed to watch as well. She’d signed up, but day one held no events for her; today, she was a spectator, a leaf on the breeze.

“Mizuki, what are you doing?” Andrea’s voice drifted over like a cool draft.

“Nothing~ Miss Andrea, just enjoy the show~” Mizuki’s smile was a fan opening.

“You’re in a good mood. Something nice happen?” Andrea’s brow lifted, a willow lifting its leaves.

“Secret~” A wink, quick as a swallow.

It was rare to see Mizuki like this. Andrea clicked her tongue inwardly, amused like rain tapping a window.

“Someone caught your eye, huh~” teased Elena the Weapon Spirit, now a bracelet on Andrea’s wrist, gleaming like a sleeping snake. For the record, to let Mizuki enjoy her break, Elana had volunteered to stay with Andrea these days.

Mizuki just smiled, silence like a ribbon—agreement without words.

On the field, Class 1-A’s athletes marched in, shoes scuffing like chalk. First up: pole vault. Unlucky draw—they faced third-years, tall as old pines.

“Go, go!” Voices rose like larks.

“Class A, victory!” The rival cheer answered, a drum to their drum. Two squads battled in volume, sound waves crossing like swords to bless their teams.

With girls cheering, spirits surged like a bonfire. The athletes threw themselves into it; the audience watched with bright eyes, sometimes shouting a line, sparks joining sparks.

“Bianqi, shout already! Why are you spacing out?” A teammate jabbed like a stick.

“Uh…” Her tongue was a knot.

“Forget that ‘I’m a boy’ thing for now. No one out there knows!” The whisper was a conspirator’s grin.

“In this getup, you want me to yell? I’m not an actor…” Her protest fluttered like a moth.

“Don’t sweat the details. Shout!”

“Ugh…” A tiny groan, a crushed leaf.

Back in college, no one had shouted for her at meets; now she had to shout for others. Irony stung like citrus. Let me be quiet, she begged the sky.

“G-go team…” The words fell out like a shy petal. Her face went crab-red; her hand floated up soft as tofu, stirring zero flames.

But because she was known for cool and for being sunshine-perfect, this shy version hit like moonlight on steel—adorable contrast that made hearts ache.

To her classmates, this Yun Shi was a sin carved in sugar.

Damn—too cute!

So what if he’s a guy? I want him as my girlfriend!

“Lord Lucifer, please let me fall!” someone howled to the clouds.

“My soul’s nothing—compared to having a girlfriend!” another cried, fist to the sky.

They howled at the roof and forgot the match like fools under fireworks.

They lost. They lost hard. Worst pole vault score in recent memory. The culprit, by public decree: Yunshi Bianqi.

“It’s not my fault!” she tried. But under their blaze of glares, there was no room to dodge—thunder had already chosen its tree.

“Damn you—how can a guy look that bewitching!” a girl lamented, heart cracking like thin ice.

“Mom, I’m not okay! I lost to a boy in looks!” another wailed, hand to forehead.

“What twisted law is this—heaven is unjust!” The cheer squad mourned as if for fallen blossoms. To lose beauty to a “boy” hurt like a thorn under a nail.

Yun Shi wanted to say… could she say she was actually a girl?

Next up was soccer. They dragged her back to cheer, ropes of fate pulling like vines. She didn’t want to, but fate rarely asks.

She didn’t want to be dead weight again. She needed words with teeth, something to light a fire. She coughed twice, sharpening her tongue like a blade on stone.

“Hey, you losers, listen up!” Her voice cracked like a whip. “You should be grateful I’m cheering for you. Be grateful, slaves! Don’t you dare lose—or you can stay ants for life!”

It was poison, a cup brimming. She’d meant to inspire, but the words flipped midair like a sparrow. When did I learn toxic talk? she wondered, stunned at her own mirror.

“That guy… explosively cute!” someone gasped, knees weak.

“Poison tongue… best of the best!” another cheered, eyes shining like stars.

“Ahh~ I feel something awakening!” a third clutched his chest, as if a third eye had opened.

“Ho ho ho, how can we lose now!” roared another, a tiger finding its wind.

“I don’t care anymore—I’m going gay. Sorry, Mom and Dad!” a voice confessed, wild as spring thunder.

They rode that madness like a wave—and won.

Unbelievable. Words had weight like mountains. Yun Shi stood dumbstruck. This was like an anime gag—zero science.

After tasting both ice and fire in one afternoon, she could only sigh: fate plays with people like wind plays with hats.

Mizuki, who’d been watching from the sidelines for a while, stepped in after the whistle. She’d watched the cheer line, not the ball, waiting for the match to end so she could see the one she wanted to see.

“Yun Shi, congrats. You won~” Her smile was a warm lamp.

“Don’t. I want to die.” Shame poured over Yun Shi like a bucket of ink. This humiliation would stain for life. It wasn’t her fault, but fate had pinned the blame like a note on her back.

“Leave me. I want to be alone. And don’t ask who ‘Silence’ is…” She crouched in a corner, drawing circles on the ground like a rain snail.

Mizuki didn’t get the joke, but it felt grand, like a spell.

She smiled, gentle as dusk. This side of Yun Shi was rare; coming back to school had been right—so much to gather, like fruit in late summer.

“Hey, you tried hard.” Mizuki’s hand landed on her shoulder, a steadying weight. He was supposed to be the boy, yet here she was, a girl, doing the comforting. Strange—but sweet.

And Mizuki liked it that way.

“Idiot Mizuki, what do you know…” Yun Shi muttered, face half-buried like a fox in its tail.

“I’m not an idiot. And your mood’s better, isn’t it?” Her voice was a soft stream.

“…”

“I’ve wanted to say this. You don’t have to carry so much alone. You’re human. If you hit something you can’t solve, come to me. I’ll help.” Her smile was sunlight slipping past clouds—impossible not to look.

Yun Shi paused, stunned like a deer in pale light. Then Mizuki pulled her into her arms again, that warmth like a quilt fresh from sun.

This girl’s getting addicted to hugging me, huh, Yun Shi thought, and let herself be held like a leaf in a kind wind.