Athletic Festival, Start! "Class 3, Fighting!"
"Class 3, fighting—!"
The class felt buzzing with excitement from the morning. And why not? Today was the day of the athletic festival!
St. Antiope Academy held exactly two athletic festivals a year. While the spring one was the grandest in scale, the autumn festival was no less important.
[We cultivate outstanding talents who excel in intellect, virtue, and physical prowess!]
This was the academy's motto. Rankings in this festival factored into overall grades, making it pretty crucial for Bianca Shama too.
"Ugh..."
But Bianca had something nagging at her all morning. She couldn't bring herself to open the classroom door amid the cheers echoing inside.
No, but why...
It was the bloomers. That's what she was wearing right now!
Navy blue and white combo. The bottoms were, well... 'Practically panties, aren't they?' Seriously. Even giving it the best spin, they felt like a swimsuit—enough to make anyone flustered.
Bloomers were the flower of school days, right? In those academy anime, anyway. From a guy's perspective, totally worth cheering for.
Of course, Bianca had loved bloomers too. Back when she was a guy, that is—back when she was the one looking.
Emily-san's bloomers...! She remembered her heart racing on past festival days at the thought.
But now she was the one on display. It felt extremely burdensome.
Ha, what do I do...
Why was it so embarrassing? As she hesitated, she had no idea her fidgeting at the front door—hands clasped tightly, shifting nervously—was drawing eyes.
Every guy passing in the hall stole glances. It was Bianca Shama, after all. Light auburn side-up ponytail, amethyst eyes. Delicate cat-like features, petite and perfectly proportioned. And in bloomers, her slim figure was on full show—soft thighs, slender white calves stealing the spotlight.
'That's the one with Carlyle...'
Rumors said she was the girlfriend of the academy's top alpha male, Carlyle Schultz. Cute yet alluring Bianca Shama. They walked slower on purpose, sneaking peeks under pretense of chatting.
Bianca finally noticed the stares.
"Eh, u-uh?!"
Her face flushed crimson. She shrank back, instinctively covering herself, then dashed inside like she was fleeing.
'Ah, so cute.'
'If only I had a girlfriend like that...'
The peeping guys sighed in regret.
Bianca made it into the class, but faced more ordeal.
"Whoa, awesome!"
"You're too cute, Bianca."
The classroom, briefly quiet, erupted. Even the homeroom teacher chimed in unexpectedly.
"Our vice class rep really suits bloomers, doesn't she?"
"Y-Yes, th-thank you—?!"
Bianca panicked, her whole body turning red—even her ears. She'd worried if they looked good, if she seemed weird. Naturally, since she'd originally been a guy. First time wearing something like this. The subtle exposure made it mortifying too.
Of course, Carlyle had seen everything, but showing off to the class felt different.
Getting to the front had been torture enough.
'B-But...'
The praise left her a bit dazed.
'Guess they suit me a little...?'
Relieved, she bolted to her seat, head down. Hide behind the desk quick!
"Bianca must be embarrassed!"
"Hey, Shasha—!"
Shasha's tactless comment sparked laughter throughout the class, leaving Bianca mortified.
'Of course I'm embarrassed! I was originally a guy.'
First time trying these on. At least she wasn't alone—other girls seemed unfazed, making Bianca feel like she was overreacting.
Her desk mate Shasha grinned.
"Not embarrassed anymore?"
"Yeah, a little...?"
"Aww, Your Majesty. Why so shy? Makes me wanna tease you more."
Tease what? Bianca pouted, and Shasha giggled.
"Anyway! Time to head out?"
"Yes, Teacher!"
The class buzzed. Weather outside was crisp. Class-vs-class battles ahead.
Before leaving, Shasha—the class's social butterfly—rallied once more.
"Guys, one more time! Class 3, fighting!"
"We're taking first!"
And so the academy's athletic festival began.
Students gradually filled the vast academy field. Around two hundred first-years gathered.
"Alright, shall we get started?!"
The MC's lively voice boomed from the stage.
"This festival is especially meaningful."
"Yes! It's our third-years' last one!"
The student council—run by second-years—was the academy's core. Cheers and jeers mixed for the underclassmen MCs.
"We prepared well? Oh yeah, just trust us underclassmen."
Smooth progression.
"End-of-term evals are dorm-based usually, but the festival's class-vs-class?"
"And student council-planned, so it's got a fresh vibe. Like...?"
"Unique events. Stuff only we could pull off."
The council's touch: unique games revealed. Candy hunt in flour, three-legged races. Body talk, OX quizzes, etc.
Murmurs spread—mostly positive. Some were basically couple events.
"We barely got approval since it's the last one."
"Glad the seniors like it. These uniques are key—let's explain."
"Yep! Top three classes get prizes, especially first: special cash bonus and extra points! Uniques count too."
"What's the special prize?!"
Someone shouted.
"Can I spill...?"
Faking hesitation, then the hint.
"Post-field trip afterparty. Hint enough?"
Students cheered wildly.
"Whoa, cool—!"
"Underclassmen rock!"
First-place perk: funding for the last field trip afterparty. In other words, no win, no party.
Reactions heated up. Shasha grinned excitedly at Bianca.
"Wow, huge! They actually got approval."
"Yeah, right?"
Bianca nodded eagerly, fired up. The real prize was the points, though.
'Gotta take first here no matter what...!'
Last time, Carlyle's class snagged it. This time, she could do it.
"Let's begin!"
"St. Antiope Academy Athletic Festival!"
The event kicked off with morning group events and prelims—standard festival fare, not council specials.
"Guys, fighting—!"
"Just a bit more!"
Tug-of-war raged on one side. Back and forth, tight battle—until Bianca's class lost, collapsing in a heap. She covered her face. Devastating. Losing the first event?
"Ugh, so close."
A voice nearby trailed off.
"B-Bianca? Your Majesty?"
"Uh, yeah?"
Bianca startled.
"You okay? Hurt somewhere?"
Her face must've looked grim. She tried averting it.
"Nah, no way..."
Truth was, it hurt.
'C'mon, guys—step it up!'
She and Shasha cheered hard, but anxiety built. Assigned events meant watching helplessly.
Bianca's was track—prelim done.
"Class 3, defeated!"
Bianca stood.
'N-No! If we lose this too...'
Group jump rope: loss. Dodgeball: same.
Her face paled. Shasha finally got it.
"Trust me, Bianca! I'll secure that afterparty!"
Determined look. Bianca brightened.
"Yeah, Shasha. You're my only hope."
Shasha returned wailing, clutching her side.
"Ugh, I'm dying—!"
She slumped before Bianca.
"Why're they so good? Lived on dodgeball?"
"Shasha, you too..."
Bianca stopped herself.
'No, Shasha... you were out first? It's just your skill...'
Forcing a smile.
"It's fine, Shasha! Everyone loses sometimes."
But I really believed in you...
Bianca eyed the big scoreboard.
'...Can't keep going like this.'
Fourth place still, but reversible—with time left.
"You were super fast earlier, Bianca!"
Lunch: class chats, shared bentos in clusters.
Bianca, prelim first, felt smug.
"Track scores highest, right?"
"Totally."
"Bianca's our hope!"
She waved it off.
"Nah."
Actually, yeah. You guys know it.
The hype felt good, motivating.
She curbed her grin.
"And Carlyle's here too."
"Oh yeah!"
Bianca's eyes met Carlyle's. He smirked.
'...Right?'
Competition-focused, she'd forgotten. First time teammates with him.
'Yeah, you! Still in it, huh?'
Annoying rival now reassuring ally. Her face lit up, blooming brightly.
'We got this!'
To Carlyle Schultz, Bianca Shama's radiant smile felt rare—maybe since Wizni Park. He lost himself in it, clueless why.
Not just him—everyone watching felt it. Why so pretty?
Carlyle's cheeks tinted; he scrubbed his face with both hands.
'What's with that guy suddenly.'
Bianca snapped back. Shasha's random remark.
"Bianca, you..."
"Yeah?"
"Don't smile like that around just anyone. Especially guys!"
Bianca blinked. Huh? Why? What's wrong?
Post-lunch: finals.
As expected, Bianca took women's track prelim first; Carlyle men's.
[Women's track finalists, please come to the starting line.]
"Fighting, Bianca!"
"Take first, for sure!"
Shasha started it; cheers followed. Bianca nodded, stepping to the stands.
Bloomer shame? Forgotten.
'Yeah, no matter what...!'
Had to win. Track had big points—the festival's highlight. Victory swayed rankings.
"Everyone ready."
Eight runners. Tension thick.
'Why's everyone so tall...?'
Bianca smallest here. Physical disadvantage tensed her, but small peppers pack heat—she'd prove it.
'Win this...!'
She would. First or bust. No defeat in Bianca Shama's dictionary.
'Anything less is meaningless.'
Others? Losers. She'd trained daily for a week.
Classmates' cheers hit.
"Run, Bianca—!"
Yeah, believe.
Her amethyst eyes blazed with competitive fire. Core tightened, gaze forward—finish line only.
"Three, two, one..."
Beep—!
And the race began!