….
[-Continuation-]
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[-Third Person View-]
First place? That was never happening - not with Hayama on the track.
The guy was practically a machine when it came to sports, a complete monster in every sense of the word.
Hachiman had known that from the start, and deep down, he had always expected it.
Beating Hayama? It wasn't in the cards.
Yet, as Yukino's voice sliced through his thoughts, her tone calm but probing, he found his mind still stuck on the race.
"You didn't tell me about that."
It wasn't just the race she was talking about.
It was more like a quiet interrogation, like she was asking why - why had he suddenly pushed himself?
Why had he cared enough to even try?
And damn, she was right to ask.
Hachiman wasn't the type to push himself for something like this.
The spotlight wasn't his friend, and the attention?
Even worse. He liked to stay in the background, let others take the lead, and slip through the cracks unnoticed.
That was who he was. The guy who should have been the last one to cross the finish line of a race he'd never been interested in.
So why had he bothered? What the hell had gotten into him? Why, for once, had he felt that surge of motivation?
As he glanced over at Yukino, her expression was serious and waiting. He could hear it in his own voice - something off.
A subtle undercurrent of disappointment, a trace of something he didn't want to admit.
It was like he had hoped for first place, but the finish line had come too soon.
And that realization hit Yukino harder than she expected.
Because in all her time knowing him, Hachiman wasn't the type to care about winning, not in these silly games, not in the kind of things other people cared about.
The Hachiman she knew didn't push himself for something as inconsequential as a race.
No, his rare bursts of effort were reserved for things that meant something to him - things like creating games or, more often, nothing at all.
But now? She was confused.
Unbeknownst to Yukino, the reason was surprisingly simple - Hachiman got riled up by Hayama.
It was almost laughable how much it surprised Hachiman himself.
As much as he hated Hayama's eyes - those damn eyes that always seemed to look at him like he was something more complicated than he really was - he should have been relieved when they shifted away.
When Hayama stepped onto the track, he was no longer the person inferior to Hachiman.
No. Now, Hayama was looking at him as a competitor again.
And that? That felt...different.
Because at that moment, as Hayama surged forward with raw determination, Hachiman felt something unfamiliar spark in his chest.
Beating Hayama didn't just seem satisfying - it felt necessary.
It felt like something he had to do.
For once, Hachiman didn't want to just fade into the background. He didn't care about glory or proving himself to anyone else.
He wanted to beat Hayama - not for anyone else's approval, but because it had become personal.
He needed to win. He had to win.
And that realization? It gnawed at him, clawed at his thoughts, refusing to be ignored.
That's when it hit him.
Hayama wasn't just some guy Hachiman begrudgingly tolerated - he was someone Hachiman had always, on some level, seen as an equal.
At least the Hachiman after the accident did.
And that was why it bothered him so damn much when Hayama started seeing himself as inferior.
That didn't sit right with him. Not at all.
It explained everything - the irritation, the tension between them, the competition that felt more than just a rivalry.
It even explained what had happened at the amusement park.
Hachiman wanted Hayama to see him as an equal, not as someone to look up to or down upon, but as a peer, someone worth competing against.
And when Hayama didn't? When did he shift into that self-deprecating mindset?
That ticked Hachiman off more than he would have ever expected.
Hachiman and Hayama have always been and will be complete opposites in every conceivable way.
Polar opposites, really.
Maybe that's why they clashed so much. Why they couldn't help but hate each other on some level.
But at the same time, there was a strange understanding between them - an acknowledgment.
They didn't agree on methods, but there was a silent acknowledgment, a recognition that each of them had reasons for doing things the way they did.
Hachiman couldn't imagine living a single day like Hayama.
Always smiling, always performing, keeping the peace no matter the personal cost.
Just the thought of it exhausted him.
And Hayama? There was no way he could ever live like Hachiman.
Always ready to shoulder the blame, always willing to play the villain if it meant achieving something real.
Even the groups they surrounded themselves with reflected this divide.
Hayama's circle was a perfect projection of his persona - superficial, harmonious, and a tight-knit group that thrived on appearances.
Meanwhile, the Service Club stood as a reflection of Hachiman's ideals - a group that chose the harder path, seeking genuine, lasting connections even if it meant facing uncomfortable truths.
It wasn't about one path being inherently better or worse. It was about the people shaping the paths they choose.
Hayama and Hachiman weren't just parallels.
They were two sides of the same coin, shaped by their beliefs, their circumstances, and their experiences.
Both had something to prove, something to hold onto, and something to reject.
And that's what made their rivalry so compelling.
Because deep down, neither could deny that the other, despite everything, had a point.
Even if they fundamentally rejected it.
With all this in mind, it was only natural to assume that the two of them were never actually meant to become friends.
It was an impossible task.
Even if their lives had crossed paths earlier, the outcome would have likely been the same - locked in this perpetual state of acknowledgment without acceptance.
So when his polar opposite - his rival - began to falter, even slightly, Hachiman found himself unusually agitated.
It wasn't pride or satisfaction he felt when Hayama seemed to second-guess himself.
No.
It was something far more unsettling.
It felt wrong.
Like every step Hayama took backward somehow dragged Hachiman along with him.
Perhaps, on some subconscious level, Hachiman had always been waiting for Hayama to prove him wrong.
To show him that his path - the easier path, the one filled with smiles and superficial harmony - wasn't just a façade.
Of course, Hachiman would have tried every trick in his book to prevent that from happening - or more accurately, to make sure Hayama never got the chance to prove him wrong.
All Hachiman wanted was for Hayama to keep trying.
Yeah, that's right.
Hachiman wanted him to keep trying, for the …rest of his life.
But when Hayama's resolve started to crack, when it looked like he might stop putting in the effort altogether, it irritated Hachiman to the core.
That was why Hachiman had begun meddling in his life, trying to force him back on track.
The amusement park had been a moment of confirmation for him, a way to nudge Hayama back into action, but even then, Hachiman could sense that Hayama was still figuring things out.
And then, today.
On the race track.
When Hayama's usual spark ignited - the same fiery determination Hachiman recognized from all their previous encounters - Hachiman couldn't contain himself anymore.
No matter what, he wasn't about to lose.
Not to Hayama.
That was the reason he gave everything he had in that race.
Though, in the end, he lost.
At least, in that one game.
Maybe he should have taken Ryota's gym invitations more seriously.
But at least, it seemed like Hayama had finally gotten his act together.
And for that, Hachiman decided it was all good.
"Hachiman… What are you thinking about so deeply?" Yukino asked, her voice pulling him back to the present.
"Huh? Nah…" He just shook his head, brushing off whatever was weighing on his mind.
Yukino gave a small nod, as if she understood, though she didn't press further.
"Anyway, let's go. The party's about to start." Iroha chimed in, her tone upbeat and eager.
Yui, who had been lost in thought, suddenly made a face as if she had just remembered the very reason they were there in the first place. "Yeah, Yukinon, let's go."
The two of them were talking about the party celebrating Hayato's success in the race.
It was just before Hachiman had come over that Hayama had personally invited him, a gesture that felt more like a quiet challenge than a genuine invitation.
For Hachiman, it had the unmistakable feel of Hayama rubbing salt into a wound, wrapped in his usual polite, dignified manner.
If he remembered correctly, the party was being held at a pub.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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