Formation (4): Dreams After the Finals
Interhigh was finally over. Even after the tournament ended, sports stars like Sakuya inevitably became targets for reporters hungry for exclusive interviews. And Sakuya was no exception—she was the common prey of every journalist covering the event. From top to bottom, every inch of her was like a heavenly delicacy boasting supreme flavor. Anyone who got a taste once would never let her go easily; it was obvious.
Coincidentally, the prey herself knew full well that the predators were licking their chops. So she'd prepared accordingly. The closing ceremony after all the matches dragged on for quite a while. The reporters split into teams: those staying on-site to snap photos of Sakuya waving the championship trophy and flag, and those rushing to stake out the lobby for interviews.
Magazine crews with prior approval from the Interhigh organizers had already wrapped up quick interviews inside the venue and stayed out of it. The reporters moved with military-like precision and unity.
"Not that it's my place to say, but reporters these days are scary."
"Tell me about it."
A reporter who'd already interviewed Sakuya watched the swarm of journalists pour out of the arena with cold eyes.
"Even if she's a hot prospect, they're still kids..."
"It's not like Interhigh is some international event."
"Well, our Sakuya-chan must be exceptionally pretty."
"You've dropped the honorifics, huh?"
"What? I'm just a fan. Got a problem?"
"Nope."
The reporter, sporting a "Sakuya Fighting!" headband, glared, and the cameraman sheepishly averted his gaze. Old lady's getting sentimental.
"Anyway, you think she'll be okay?"
"Why?"
"Sakuraba-san seemed kinda hyped up today more than usual..."
"Did she?"
"I've been zooming in on Sakuraba-san with this camera for a whole month. I can kinda read her emotional patterns now..."
"Eww, stalker much? She's still a minor, y'know."
"Not like that..."
The cameraman explained it felt like a realm where the subject's emotions came through crystal clear, like a metaphor. The reporter scolded him.
"What're you on about? If you had that kinda skill, you wouldn't be my errand boy here."
"Huh. When you put it like that, yeah."
"Enough. Let's head back and edit."
"Editing hell starts again. Interhigh was nice while it lasted."
"It was comfy, right?"
No need to wander everywhere—just park here where top high school athletes from across the country gathered. It was a dream gig for coverage, and the cameraman nodded weakly.
"Don't worry. Seasonally, we've still got soccer and American football ahead."
"Those are locked down by bigger magazines. We'd end up swarming like those hyenas over there..."
"Heh. That's why we snagged the Sakuya-chan exclusive."
The reason they'd focused solely on Sakuya throughout Interhigh was simple: to boost the magazine's profile with a Sakuya special feature. Schools crave promotion. And they'd pitch it perfectly: We'll package your star student all flashy and cool. Sakuya was their promo gold.
"Alright, let's go. Get stuck in traffic leaving the lot, and it'll take forever."
"Roger."
The two slipped out of the arena, passing through the lobby teeming with reporters. A quick glance showed their eyes burning with unyielding resolve—they weren't letting Sakuya off easy.
"Intense vibe. Just passing by, and I'm sweating."
"Yeah."
The reporter fanned herself as they climbed into the van. Past lunchtime, the sun beat down especially warmly.
"Hm?"
Then, the reporter in the passenger seat spotted a silver ponytail thread. Followed by a clamor of reporters' shouts crashing like pots and pans.
"What? Forget something?"
"Nah."
The reporter chuckled, leaning back into her seat.
"Just..."
"Just?"
"Suddenly feeling sorry for those idiots waiting in the lobby."
"Huh?"
Only the cameraman at the wheel shot her a baffled look.
"Sis is pulling that scary act again outta nowhere. That's why you can't get married, si—gack!"
"Shut it."
Meanwhile, chaos erupted in the lobby.
"Yoo-hoo! Sakuraba Sakuya here! Nice to meet ya~!"
"That's not Sakuraba!"
"Anyone can see that's Yuuma's Hanamura from swimming!"
"Aw, busted? Hehe?"
Hanamura Haru, Sakuya's senpai and third-year swim team vice-captain. The moment her identity was blown, she yanked off the wig and flashed a victory V-sign at the reporters.
"Yay! Sakuya-chin's already gone, so relax!"
"Whaaat!?"
"I'm here instead, so shoot me! Hurry! Hurry!"
Like some idol, she struck bizarre poses under a barrage of cameras, leaving the reporters stunned. Coach Ittsin, arriving late, lightly smacked the attention-magnet's head.
"Ow... yoink!"
"Yoink my ass. Hurry up and come on. The rest are already waiting on the bus."
"For real?"
"Be late, and you're the only one missing out on beef."
"Yay! Love ya, Coach!"
Haru danced through the stunned reporters, following the coach.
"It's Yuuma's legendary Coach Ittsin! Coach! Where's Sakuraba right now!?"
"Dunno."
"How can a coach not know his player's whereabouts...!"
"I said I don't know."
"Eek!"
The reporter recoiled at Ittsin's glare.
"Hey! Don't shoot the scary-faced coach—shoot me, swim team's cutie Haru-rung!"
"Ah..."
Ittsin wanted to quit coaching right then. Watching the fearless Haru charge the reporters, he rubbed his increasingly wrinkled face heavily.
Still. Haru would graduate soon. And next year, Sakuya might compete in track instead of swimming. In short, once she was gone, his headaches as coach would drop dramatically.
Half a year. Just hold out for six more months.
But Ittsin didn't know yet: Tae-il preferred Sakuya in a swimsuit over track gear, so she'd stick to swimming next year too.
"Grah! Look at me! Come to meee!"
"Shut up already!"
"Ahaha!"
Sakuya burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as her swim team senpai relayed the on-site drama.
Rena tilted her head toward Sakuya.
"What? Something funny?"
"Nah..."
Sakuya wiped a tear from laughing and readily showed her smartphone.
It was a photo: some normal girl striking a weird pose, drawing aggro from panicked-faced reporters.
"Who's that?"
"Swim team vice-captain. JoJo reference."
"JoJo...?"
Rena, low on otaku cred, tilted her head.
"Super popular shonen manga. Girls love it too—huge fanbase."
"Oh?"
"You'd probably dig it too, Rena."
"If Shin says so..."
Rena nodded, pretending she'd check it out sometime. Tae-il, who'd drawn that reaction, shot Sakuya a sly wink like I got you, right? He'd casually covered for Sakuya, who hadn't revealed her otaku side yet.
But gratitude aside, Tae-il's wink was still disastrously cringe, making Sakuya cover her mouth and giggle unwittingly.
"Pfft!"
This wasn't the first time during intramurals; Sakuya was a pro at dodging reporters' eyes. She'd coordinated with the school beforehand for a post-ceremony escape via the staff-only back door. Though she'd nearly gotten nabbed by lot-waiting reporters, Iris's planted Kiriko got her out hassle-free.
The parking spotters alerted the lobby crew, but Hanamura's full-throttle aggro shut it down.
No, that senpai's a genuine attention whore...
Maybe not full-throttle. But gratitude was gratitude. Sakuya fired off a thank-you message.
Sakuya chuckled quietly and replied Got it.
Cousin-sis, got time...?
Summer was peak season for doujin artists. Ideally, she'd draw it herself as thanks to her senpai, but hyper-stylized BL was a bit much for her.
Anyway. The escape had been a noisy ordeal all around, but the limo back to Tokyo was utter peace.
Iris stretched, loosening her stiff body from waiting ages for Sakuya.
"Nyaah! Bet it would've been a hassle without us, huh?"
"Yeah, probably."
Sakuya agreed lightly. Every scene had its cliques, after all. Reporter cliques were annoyingly persistent. Plus, they tended to slightly underestimate student interviewees.
"I'm pretty chill with it, though."
Whatever reporter atrocities, Sakuya stayed comparatively relaxed.
"Senpais have it worse, I bet."
Pros heading into sports media would face those types nonstop. Iris, in the passenger seat, turned back at Sakuya's sympathetic mutter.
"Hm? Not you?"
"Not planning to go pro in that world."
Not just music. Japan boasted a massive sports market rivaling the world's best. Sure, Asian physiques had limits, but investment poured in relentlessly. No need for full pro—even corporate leagues offered paths aplenty. Especially for pretty, skilled players like Sakuya, ripe for marketing—offers wouldn't stop.
"For real? You've gotten contract offers already, right?"
"Yeah. Turned 'em all down."
Sakuya's face was serene as she said it. No regrets over passing astronomical sums at her age.
"Impressive."
Iris was genuinely awed by her choice. She was rich—and as such, knew money's allure better than most. Even prideful Rena kept one foot in modern art for cash.
Sakuya had something worth ditching money for. Enviable. Iris thought so deep down.
"Got some big dream or whatever?"
"Yup."
Sakuya grinned, glancing at Tae-il.
"Everyone's got their own dream, right?"
"Well."
Iris turned forward with a wry smile. Dreams? Sure. But right now, concrete goals trumped vague ones.
"Fine for you. But what about Shin Tae-il?"
"Me?"
Tae-il, who'd been quietly hugging Rena while scrolling the net, looked up blankly.
"You've got dreams, right?"
"Outta nowhere?"
"So you don't?"
"A dream..."
Tae-il leaned into his seat. His gaze drifted from the ceiling to Iris peeking back from the front.
Truth be told, Tae-il's dream was pretty much fulfilled already. Once recording kicked off soon, it'd solidify even more.
But was that the end? Really?
No. Not at all.
He had one more dream ahead.
"Shin...?"
Tae-il hugged Rena tighter.
"Shin-nyan?"
"Ahaha. Why the soulful stare?"
He glanced at Ayane and Sakuya on either side.
"Hm?"
Finally, across to Iris.
As a fan, the dream he'd never achieved flickered before his eyes.
People often confuse what they're good at with what they love. Tae-il had too. His dreams always hit reality's wall.
Now was different. Even if delusion, somehow now he could make it real.
In a band where he belonged.
Standing on stage together.
Basking in cheers and applause—not as simulation, but sharing joy and sorrow as one.
Tae-il smiled quietly.
"Yeah."
His eyes sharpened. The faint light seeping through the cracks seemed to grow just a bit brighter.
"A dream I really wanna make come true."