COTE: Sōsuke Aizen, The Poet Chapter 38 38

The sports festival was finally entering its final stage.

As the afternoon events continued one after another, the heat and excitent on the field reached their peak. The relentless autumn sun glead off the sweat-soaked students covered in dust, while cheers of joy and frustration over victory and defeat echoed high into the sky.

The next event was the recomnded-participation competition:

"Mixed-Gender Three-Legged Race."

Selected male and female pairs from each class would compete to see who could run in perfect sync.

Originally, Class A's strategy had been simple: pair —who possessed the best physical ability among the boys—with Hitomi Tsube, the fastest girl in the class, and secure an easy first place. Even Ichinose and the others had confidently said:

"If it's Aizen-kun and Tsube-san together, there's no way you'll lose!"

It seed like the pair would be decided imdiately.

However, during the discussion, Hiyori—normally quiet, reserved, and reluctant to participate in athletic events—suddenly spoke up with rare determination.

"…Um, I want to compete with Sōsuke-kun!"

(…Hiyori, who's bad at sports, actually volunteered to participate on her own…! Amazing! That's seriously amazing!! Even if she's slow, I'll cover for her and absolutely carry us to victory!)

Internally, I was practically crying tears of emotion as I wholeheartedly accepted Hiyori's earnest challenge.

We stood at the starting line and tightly tied our ankles together with the cord.

Beside stood the petite Hiyori, looking slightly nervous. Her silver hair swayed gently in the breeze, carrying a faint sweet scent.

(Alright, to help her relax, I'll casually say sothing refreshing like, "Let's run together and definitely take first place!")

I looked down at her and tried to smile gently.

But once again, the overwhelming ego of Sōsuke Aizen forcibly converted my intentions into an absurdly dramatic speech.

"—Do not fear. There is no need for you to match your stride to the path I walk toward the throne. Simply remain by my side and gaze down upon the world as it bows before us."

(Translation: Let's run together and definitely get first place!)

"…Yes! I'll do my best!"

Hiyori blinked in surprise for a mont, but imdiately understood my true aning with perfect accuracy. She clenched her fists and smiled brightly with determination.

(Ahh… she's precious…! With this archangel beside , I feel like I could run anywhere!)

While we were having that oddly peaceful exchange, my eyes drifted to the pair standing in the lane beside us.

It was the pair chosen from Class D:

Kiyotaka Ayanokōji and Kikyou Kushida.

(Oh, it's Kiyotaka! Didn't expect him to participate in this event too. Might as well greet him casually!)

I intended to cheerfully say:

"Yo, Kiyotaka! Let's both give it our all!"

But once again, my cursed poetic speech transford my pure encouragent into sothing that sounded like a ruler gazing down upon the battlefield.

"—Kiyotaka. Show how the 'invisible blade' you conceal will carve through this ga board. At the very least… entertain ."

"…!"

The mont he heard my words, the usually expressionless Ayanokōji narrowed his eyes slightly.

Beside him, Kushida's smile twitched awkwardly.

"Eh…? A-Aizen-kun…?"

Hiyori imdiately stepped in with flawless translation support.

"He ans: 'Ayanokōji-kun, let's both do our best together!'"

"…Yeah. Likewise."

Ayanokōji answered shortly, but there was unmistakable caution and suspicion hidden in his eyes.

Inside his mind, rapid calculations were already unfolding.

("How the invisible blade will carve through the board," huh? He deliberately phrased it that way despite knowing my true capabilities… Don't tell he's already figured out that Kushida leaked the participation list to the White Team—and that I intentionally allowed it while using the situation for my own purposes? To him, even my sches are nothing more than entertainnt? As I thought… Sōsuke Aizen is the most dangerous existence in this school.)

Once again, Ayanokōji's wariness toward skyrocketed in an entirely mistaken direction.

(Hm…? Kiyotaka looks unusually tense…?)

Maybe he was just nervous before the race. Thinking that, I turned back toward my starting position.

Then—

"—On your marks… ready… GO!!"

The whistle rang out.

"Here we go, Sōsuke-kun! One, two—!"

"Ah."

The instant Hiyori tried to step forward, I wrapped an arm firmly around her waist and practically lifted her body up.

"W-Wah!?"

Hiyori's feet floated off the ground.

Then, using only my own legs, I unleashed explosive leg power and sprinted down the track at terrifying speed, as though I were running entirely alone.

Though it was called a three-legged race, it had effectively beco:

"The Hiyori Transportation Race."

Still, our legs were properly tied together, and Hiyori's feet technically moved in the air, so there was no violation of the rules.

While the other pairs struggled to synchronize their steps with cries of "One-two, one-two," I blasted past them in an instant, kicking up violent gusts of wind.

"Hyaaaaa! The wind—the wind is so strong, Sōsuke-kun!!"

Hiyori cried out dizzily from my arms, but I never slowed down for even a mont.

I crossed the finish line with overwhelming speed and complete composure.

Naturally, we took first place by an absurd margin.

"Haa… haa… that surprised …"

After untying the cord around our legs, Hiyori happily bounced up and down.

"But we got first place! Amazing, Sōsuke-kun!"

"Indeed. It was only possible because your guidance led forward."

(Translation: It's because you ran together with !)

(...Cute. Watching her hop around like a little animal is seriously healing… My stamina and ntal energy are fully recovering…)

I silently narrowed my eyes, desperately resisting the urge to pat her head.

At last, the final event of the sports festival arrived.

"Combined Three-Year 1200-ter Relay."

Each class would choose three boys and three girls, six runners total, to pass the baton through the relay. It was the centerpiece of the sports festival and the highest-scoring event.

Class A's selected mbers were:

Tsube, Ichinose, Hatsukawa, Shibata, Kanzaki, and finally —Sōsuke Aizen—as the anchor runner.

As the entire student body watched from the center of the field, the first female runners took their positions.

BANG!!

The sharp sound of the starter pistol signaled the beginning of the final race.

Class A's first runner, Hatsukawa, got off to a strong start. Shibata followed with his natural athleticism, smoothly passing the baton onward. Then ca Tsube and Kanzaki, both running steadily and efficiently.

Finally, the fifth runner, Ichinose, ca sprinting toward with the baton.

"I'm counting on you, Aizen-kun!!"

"Mm."

At the mont I received the baton from Ichinose, Class A was in third place.

Just ahead was a student from Class 3-B.

Far in front, running alone in first place—

was the second-year student council president candidate:

Miyabi Nagumo.

Nagumo glanced back at after seeing receive the baton and flashed an arrogant, mocking grin.

It practically scread:

"Try catching if you can!"

(Ugh, Nagumo's provoking hard. I can't lose this one. Everyone in Class A desperately connected this baton to … Ti to unleash the full Aizen specs!)

I tightened my grip on the baton and leaned forward.

Then—

Explosion.

With a terrifying step that sounded like a firecracker detonating beneath my feet, I accelerated.

Sand exploded behind as I tore through the wind. I felt no muscle pain, no exhaustion—my body simply executed the perfect thod for moving forward at maximum speed.

"Wha—!?"

First, I passed the Class 3-B runner in the blink of an eye.

Then, Nagumo's back rapidly drew closer.

At first, he still wore a confident smile. But when he noticed the abnormal footsteps charging behind him and heard the shocked uproar from the audience, he reflexively turned around.

"Impossible…! What the hell is that speed!?"

His eyes widened in disbelief.

The instant I ca alongside him, I didn't even spare him a glance.

Keeping my gaze fixed coldly ahead, I left him behind in an instant.

"Damn yooouuu!!"

Nagumo desperately pumped his arms, face twisted in rage, but the distance between us only widened further and further.

Without allowing anyone to follow, I crossed the finish line in first place by an overwhelming margin.

"We did ittt!! Aizen-kun got first place!!"

"HOLY CRAP!! What was that coback!?"

Thunderous cheers exploded from the Class A tent.

As I calmly walked back without even breathing heavily, Nagumo approached from behind, panting harshly.

"Haa… haa… you bastard, Aizen…!"

His face was bright red with anger.

"Don't get cocky just because you happened to run fast…! Even if you took first among the first-years, the Red Team's defeat is already guaranteed. Go ahead and crawl pathetically within the palm of my hand while you choke on defeat!"

(Uwaaah, he seriously ca all the way over here just to brag and make excuses after losing! …But wait. I literally just reflected on how the Red Team might lose because I provoked Nagumo too much. I need to stay calm here and avoid escalating things any further…!)

I firmly warned myself internally and decided to respond peacefully.

Unfortunately, my mouth betrayed once again.

"—Blind even to the mud swallowing your own feet, you dare proclaim yourself king of the throne? If you truly believe such a petty sche was enough to defeat , then you are not rely laughable, but pitiful. …There is no mud worth crawling through upon the path I walk. Before you are crushed beneath it, learn the shallowness of your own limits."

(UWAAAAAAAHHH!! I completely counter-provoked him with maximum brutality!! Why does my mouth love bullying Nagumo so much!? And Nagumo too—why does he keep coming over just to throw premium-grade fuel into the fire!? Is he a masochist!? Look at him—his pride's been completely shattered!!)

"…YOU…!! I'll kill you!! I swear I'll crush you, Aizen!!"

As Nagumo completely lost his mind behind , I walked elegantly back toward the Class A tent while internally crying tears of blood over the fact that:

"Yep. Second sester harassnt confird."

With all events concluded, it was finally ti for the results announcent.

The total scores appeared on the giant electronic scoreboard in the center of the field.

"Overall Champions — WHITE TEAM!!"

The mont it was announced, ecstatic cheers erupted from the Class B and Class C tents.

In contrast, a heavy silence settled over the Red Team camp.

Even looking solely at the first years, Class A had successfully achieved first place overall.

I myself had been selected as the Best First-Year Athlete (while the overall MVP of the entire festival was third-year student council president Manabu Horikita), and our class had steadily accumulated points throughout every event.

However—

the reason the Red Team ultimately lost was obvious.

Class D had been completely manipulated by Sakayanagi of Class B and Ryūen of Class C. Their participation list had been leaked, their weaknesses precisely targeted, and their points rcilessly stripped away until they were effectively crushed.

And above all—

Nagumo, who controlled the entire second year, had maneuvered things so the White Team would maintain the lead while still securing first place for his own class.

If the Red Team had won, our first-year Class A would have gained a massive 200 class point advantage over Class B due to the overall victory bonus.

Nagumo likely couldn't tolerate soone else taking away the identity of "the one who controls an entire year."

That overwhelming disadvantage ultimately dood the Red Team.

The updated class point standings after combining pre-exam scores with sports festival penalties were:

Class A (Ichinose): 1157 CP → -50 = 1107 CP

Class B (Sakayanagi): 924 CP → -50 = 874 CP

Class C (Ryūen): 658 CP → ±0 = 658 CP

Class D (Horikita): 112 CP → -200 = 0 CP

(...The Red Team lost overall and took the penalty, but at least we successfully prevented Class B from narrowing the gap by maintaining first place among the first years.)

Inside the Class A tent, the students looked gloomy.

"Damn it… Even though we took first place in our year, we still lost 50 class points because the Red Team lost…"

Shibata muttered bitterly.

"It couldn't be helped. Class D dragged us down way too much. I never thought they'd lose that badly…"

Amikura sighed.

To dispel the heavy atmosphere, Honami Ichinose stepped into the center of the tent and clapped loudly.

"Everyone, heads up! Sure, we lost points in the end, but Class A itself still got first place in the year! That happened because everyone worked together and gave it their all! Let's make up for this frustration in the next exam!"

Her bright smile and encouraging words gradually restored life to the students' faces.

"…She's right. We did what we had to do. This isn't the ti to lower our gaze and stop moving forward."

Kanzaki nodded, and the class atmosphere slowly beca positive again.

(...As expected of Ichinose. That ntality and leadership are seriously dependable.)

Sitting deeply in my folding chair, I calmly reviewed the sports festival in my mind.

(This was a complete strategic victory for Ryūen, Sakayanagi, and Nagumo. …Well, in Nagumo's case, it was also because I constantly provoked him and perfectly seasoned his pride issue about not wanting soone else to "control the first years." I seriously need to reflect on that. But every ti soone provokes , my mouth automatically counterattacks… Still, thanks to the precautions we took beforehand against direct interference from Classes B and C, not a single person in our class got injured. That's a major gain.)

I glanced toward Class D's tent in the distance.

(Horikita's situation is unfortunate, but that collision alone isn't enough to prove intent, so she'll probably have to swallow it. …More importantly, the leaked participation list. Considering the state of Class D, there's definitely a traitor among them—whether bought off with points or threatened by Ryūen. …But if it were Kiyotaka, he could easily have prevented the betrayal or leaked a fake participation list instead. Knowing him, maybe he intends to use even this defeat for sothing…)

As I sank into thought, Hiyori ca jogging over.

"Sōsuke-kun! You were amazing today! You looked so cool!"

She praised with a radiant smile.

(Yes! Hiyori praised and I'm ridiculously happy! But this wasn't my accomplishnt alone. Everyone worked incredibly hard! Even if we lost class points because I provoked Nagumo too much, everyone still gave their best without getting hurt. They all really did great!)

I wanted to smile warmly and express gratitude toward my classmates.

Instead, what erged from my mouth was an absurdly grandiose final-boss speech.

"—The brilliance of an individual alone cannot illuminate the vast heavens. What is truly beautiful are the footprints of those who, though stained by mud, continued onward together while reaching for the stars. …The loss of a re stone upon the board becos aningless before such unwavering progress."

"Eh…?"

"A-Aizen-kun…?"

The surrounding classmates tilted their heads in confusion.

"Uh… did Aizen-kun get mad because the Red Team lost…?"

"Is he disappointed in us because we didn't do enough…?"

The atmosphere in the tent instantly beca tense.

But Hiyori simply giggled softly before turning toward the others.

"Don't worry, everyone. Sōsuke-kun is saying: 'This result wasn't because of alone, but because everyone worked hard together. Even though we lost class points, the most important thing is that everyone gave their best without getting injured.'"

"Eh!? Is that what he ant, Aizen-kun!?"

"Man, Aizen-kun was actually praising us…"

"Thank goodness. I thought he was angry…"

Thanks to Hiyori's perfect interpretation, relief imdiately spread throughout the tent, and warm laughter returned once more.

(HIYORIIII!! THANK YOU!!! Without you, my sincere gratitude would've sounded like "the whimsical evaluation of a demon king"…!)

anwhile, unlike the cheerful White Team camp and the recovering Class A atmosphere, the mood in Class D's tent resembled a funeral.

Due to their crushing defeat, the class points they had desperately built up had cruelly fallen back to zero.

Suzune Horikita, despite being completely exhausted and injured, had apparently managed to persuade Sudō to return after he stord off earlier—but it was far too late to salvage anything.

"…Hey. If that guy had actually tried from the beginning, wouldn't the results have been way better?"

Iké and Yamauchi glared resentfully toward one person.

Their target was Kiyotaka Ayanokōji, the boy who had displayed speed comparable to student council president Manabu Horikita during the final relay.

"Seriously! He's always slacking off, then suddenly acts cool only when it matters! If he'd gone all out in every event, maybe the Red Team would've won!"

"Please stop, Ike-kun, Yamauchi-kun. Ayanokōji-kun worked really hard during the relay…"

Kushida and Hirata desperately tried to calm them down, but the distrust and frustration that had accumulated through repeated unfair losses couldn't disappear so easily.

Even amidst the swamp-like atmosphere, Ayanokōji alone remained completely expressionless, staring silently at the field as though none of the surrounding noise even existed.

(…I already knew Kushida would betray us and leak information to Ryūen. That's why I intentionally chose not to intervene. Rather than ending things halfway, it was better for Horikita to be completely crushed once—to force fundantal growth upon her. At the sa ti, the class needed to fully understand the reality that soone among them was willing to betray the class itself.)

Ayanokōji calmly reviewed the sports festival in his mind.

(It was slightly unexpected that Ryūen would cooperate with Sakayanagi and attack Class D this thoroughly… but in the end, it beca the perfect stage to completely break Horikita's pride and make her confront her own powerlessness.)

Even the class points dropping back to zero ant little to him—it was rely a necessary expense toward his objective.

(Now Class D has nothing left to lose. The only real issue is that Chabashira will beco even more troubleso about forcing us upward…)

The criticism of his classmates and the loss of points were insignificant noise to him.

What exactly he was thinking, and what strategies he was preparing for the next battlefield—

no one knew.

And so, the chaotic sports festival ca to a quiet close, leaving behind deep scars and new sparks of conflict for every class.