Game On!

The monotonous drone of the teacher faded into background noise as I leaned my chin against my hand, my eyes glazed over, staring blankly out the window. The sun outside seemed far more enticing than the thick, stale air inside the classroom. The rhythmic ticking of the clock was almost hypnotic, like a metronome for boredom. The teacher was lecturing about something—I couldn't even remember what at this point—and I realized with a sinking feeling that the day was dragging on painfully.

"This day is never-ending," I sighed inwardly. I glanced around the room, noticing a few other students who were just as checked out as I was. Rika, sitting just next to me, was diligently taking notes, his brow furrowed in concentration. Of course, he was. Rika would never tune out during a lesson, even one this mind-numbingly dull.

I shifted in my seat, trying to focus on something, anything, to distract myself. Then, like a lifeline, the thought of gym class floated into my mind. Ah, gym class. The one bright spot in an otherwise dreary day.

"At least we've got gym class today," I thought, feeling a faint smile tug at the corner of my lips. The thought of running around, stretching my muscles, and feeling the burn of physical exertion was a welcome break from the constant parade of lectures. Plus, it'd give me some time to think about my next moves regarding Rika's real-life romantic comedy. Things were progressing, sure, but there were still too many variables at play.

As the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the period, I stretched my arms overhead, feeling my spine crack in relief. Time for something more stimulating than mental exercises.

"Raven-san!" Rika's voice broke through my thoughts. He had turned around in his seat, smiling brightly. "Ready for gym class?"

I yawned, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah, let's get it over with," I said, a little too nonchalantly, though I was secretly eager. I grabbed my bag and stood up, still shaking off the remnants of classroom-induced stupor.

The hallway was buzzing with students heading to their respective activities, and Rika fell into step beside me, his usual energy radiating off him like sunshine.

"You seem excited," I said, giving him a sidelong glance.

He chuckled nervously. "Well, it's our first gym class in high school. I don't know, it feels… different. Like, we're officially not kids anymore, you know?"

I blinked. "I didn't know you were so into sports, Rika."

He scratched the back of his head, sheepish. "I wouldn't say I'm 'into' it, but it's fun to take a break from lessons and clear my head sometimes. I guess I'm just a bit nervous, that's all."

I let out a soft chuckle. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. If you survive my relentless teasing, gym class should be a breeze."

Rika smiled, though I could see he was still a bit nervous. It was hard to imagine someone as easy-going as him getting nervous over gym class. But then again, this was Rika we were talking about—he overthought things as easily as he breathed.

We stepped into the boys' locker room, which was already filled with the sound of metal lockers clanging shut and the general chatter of our classmates. The distinct scent of sweat lingered in the air, and I wrinkled my nose at it but otherwise kept my expression neutral. No point in reacting when this was just another part of the school experience.

As I began to change, pulling off my uniform shirt, I heard a low whistle from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Rika staring at me, his eyes wide in shock.

"Whoa…" he muttered under his breath, as if he'd just seen a rare artifact.

"Something wrong?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rika blinked rapidly, his face turning an impressive shade of red. "I-I just didn't realize you were, uh… built like that," he stammered, gesturing vaguely at my now-bare torso.

I glanced down at myself, slightly amused. Sure, I had a lean, muscular build—years of consistent gym training had made sure of that. But the way Rika was reacting, you'd think I was some kind of fitness model.

"What? You thought I was hiding a dad bod under my uniform?" I teased, pulling on my black tank top and shorts.

Rika laughed awkwardly, still looking a little flustered. "No, I just… well, I guess I never really thought about it. You're always so calm and collected, so I didn't expect…" He trailed off, clearly unsure of how to finish that sentence.

"It's called balance, Rika," I said with a smirk. "Mind and body. Maybe I'll teach you my ways someday."

"Yeah, maybe…" Rika's voice was distant, clearly still processing his surprise.

As we finished changing, some of the soccer players near us were making similar remarks—either in awe or with a hint of envy—about my physique. A few whistles and even a couple of exaggerated sighs made their way to my ears. I didn't pay them much mind, though. It was just another part of the package that came with being me. For a second, I saw a man with striking white hair and beautiful blue eyes in one of the mirrors, with a broad smile and a thumbs-up of approval. Strange.

Once we were outside in the gym, the coach quickly divided us into two groups—basketball and tennis. I found myself placed in the basketball group, much to my satisfaction. Rika, meanwhile, was shuffled off to the tennis courts, looking mildly relieved. He wasn't the basketball type, which was understandable.

"Shame," I thought, watching him head toward the tennis group. "Could've taught him a few moves."

I refocused my attention on the basketball court. The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, and immediately the energy of the court shifted. The pace picked up, and I was in my element. It wasn't just about skill—though I had plenty of that—but also about strategy. I knew how to read the game, how to anticipate the other team's moves, and how to position myself to either score or block.

I wasn't exactly aiming to be the star player, but it seemed like I was carrying the team. Most of the others were more concerned with goofing off or trying to impress the girls watching from the sidelines. That left me to actually focus on winning.

The ball was passed to me, and I dribbled down the court with swift precision. The opposing team's defense was weak—too focused on watching me rather than actually stopping me. I faked a shot, dodged past two players, and then leaped for a clean jump shot. The ball sailed through the air, spinning with perfect rotation, before swishing through the hoop without even grazing the rim.

A satisfied smirk tugged at my lips. "Easy."

The game continued, and I kept up the momentum. Whether I was passing, shooting, or defending, my movements were quick and calculated. I could feel the eyes on me—not just from my teammates, but from the sidelines too. A group of girls was watching from the bleachers, whispering and giggling every time I made a particularly good play. I ignored them, keeping my focus on the game, though I could hear the faint squeals whenever I tied my hair back into a small bun to keep it out of my face.

By the time the game was winding down, we were ahead by a comfortable margin. The other team had tried to mount a comeback, but it was too late. My defense held strong, and our team ended up securing a solid victory.

As I stepped off the court, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Gym class had always been my sanctuary—a place where I could let go of everything else and just focus on the physical.

"Well, that was fun," I thought, feeling my body relax after the adrenaline of the game.

After the basketball game, I spotted Rika practicing tennis on his own, bouncing the ball against the wall with a focused expression. I was slightly surprised he wasn't with one of the girls, but I think it is fine, because they also have friends of their own. Besides, it is the times like this, when I can create a strong bond between us. Returning my attention to Rika, I smirked. "Looks like the wall's winning."

"Hey," I called out as I approached.

Rika jumped, nearly missing the ball. "Raven-san! You scared me."

I grinned. "Sorry about that. Looks like you're playing against a tough opponent."

Rika laughed, clearly not offended. "It's better than embarrassing myself in front of others."

"Why don't we change that?" I suggested, nodding toward the open court. "Want to play a match together? I don't think your current partner will mind," I joked, nodding toward the wall.

Rika chuckled, his nerves easing a little. "Sure, let's play."

We headed to an open court and started a match. I took it easy on him at first, letting him win a few points. He didn't seem to notice that I was holding back, though, and his excitement grew with each point he scored.

"I actually won a point!" Rika exclaimed, his face lighting up.

I couldn't help but smile. "He's so easy to make happy," I thought, feeling a small twinge of something—envy, maybe—at how effortlessly he found joy in the little things. It wasn't something I could easily relate to. My mind was always too busy calculating, planning, analyzing. Finding joy in the moment like Rika did? That was a foreign concept to me.

Still, I pushed the thought aside and focused on the game. We played for a while longer, the match becoming more lighthearted as we joked around and teased each other. By the end of it, both of us were panting, our clothes soaked with sweat.

After the match, we made our way back to the locker room, where I tossed a towel to Rika, who caught it with a grin.

"That was fun," he said, wiping his face. "I didn't think I'd enjoy tennis this much."

"Not bad," I replied, nodding in agreement. "We should play again sometime."

As we sat down on a nearby bench, catching our breath, I ran a hand through my damp hair, tying it back once more. I heard another faint squeal from somewhere nearby but didn't see anyone. Must've been my imagination. Either that, or someone was having an allergic reaction to my overwhelming charm.

"Class is almost over," Rika said, glancing at the clock.

"Yeah," I agreed, feeling a little more relaxed than I had earlier in the day.

Just before we stood up to head back to the locker room, a thought occurred to me.

"By the way, Rika…" I began, my tone casual. "Do you want to join a club together?"

Rika looked at me, curious. "A club? Sure, but which one?"

I grinned, a mischievous glint in my eye. "I've got a few ideas."

As we walked back to the locker room, I couldn't help but think that this was the next perfect move in my grand scheme. If I could get Rika into the right club, I'd have more opportunities to observe—and, of course, manipulate—the ongoing rom-com drama that surrounded him.

"I think I know the perfect club," I finally said, my voice teasing.

Rika smiled, oblivious to the mischief in my tone. "I trust your judgment, Raven-san."

"Oh, you really shouldn't," I thought with a grin.

And with that, the next chapter in my carefully scripted rom-com was about to unfold.