Chapter 2: Special students who do not have physical education

‘A monster has entered Shuchiin. A monster who’ll shake the sports world!’

‘—Or so I hoped, back then. Sigh…’

Tetsuo, as my homeroom teacher, observed me for nearly a year.

His conclusion?

‘This kid has zero intention of using his talent!’

Every day, I sit through classes, maybe listening, maybe zoning out—it’s hard to tell.

During breaks, I read books. After school, I ride bikes home with my friend, Shirogane Miyuki, once his student council duties are done.

That’s it.

No sports clubs, not even a hint of effort in gym class—nothing to show for my so-called talent.

I’m the picture-perfect member of the “go-home club.” A sports scholarship student! The first ever, no less!

Whenever there’s a class soccer match, they’d say, “You’re a sports scholarship student, you have to join!” and drag me in…

Class soccer match. The ball flies toward me from a distance. It’s catchable for someone with decent reflexes.

“Whoops, my bad.”

The ball hits my foot and rolls off somewhere.

A parade of infuriating mistakes! Groans erupt from the sidelines.

To an outsider, it looks like I’m just bad at this…

‘That cunning precision!’

Tetsuo, a former soccer prospect himself, saw through it.

I always “accidentally” let the ball slip, but it always lands near a free striker.

He knows soccer, so he gets it. The other students? Not so much.

We score somehow, but everyone thinks, ‘There he goes again.’

My team goes nuts over my constant “mistakes.”

The other team’s baffled—they messed up, yet we score. Both sides are left clutching their necks in confusion.

The spotlight naturally falls on the guy who scores. He’s the type who loves to brag, saying, “I carried the team, right?” or “Man, cleaning up your mess is tough…”

Meanwhile, I keep my face blank, like I don’t care.

‘Is he really okay with being treated like that…?’

I’m treated like a victory totem, not quite an outcast, but rumors swirl. “A sports scholarship student like that? Must’ve gotten in through his parents’ connections.”

Since exam scores and family details are off-limits, teachers can’t clarify anything.

Tetsuo wasn’t the only one with high hopes.

The other examiners, all professionals in their fields, praised me as a prodigy who could dominate any sport.

But watching my “mistake show,” some started wondering if they were just tired that exam day.

Trying to spark my passion through sweaty camaraderie with classmates? Total failure.

After a year of effort, Tetsuo felt he’d done enough. A thought struck him.

With that level of talent, there must be a reason he’s dodging sports with every trick in the book.

Tetsuo called me to the staff room, determined.

I walked in, clueless about why I was there. He sighed deeply and spoke.

“Hotaro, you must’ve noticed I had high expectations for you as a sports scholarship student.”

“Yeah.”

I answered plainly, no denial. Tetsuo rubbed his brow and continued.

“Your answer to this will change how I treat you going forward. Be honest.”

“Got it.”

“Is there a reason you’re deliberately avoiding sports?”

“…!”

The question caught me off guard. It was like he was saying, ‘I know you’re half-assing it.’

I hesitated, then answered.

“…Yes.”

Just as I thought—Tetsuo nodded, patting my shoulder.

“Thanks for being honest. I won’t pry further. No more pressure, don’t worry.”

“Thanks.”

I bowed and left.

Watching me go, Tetsuo decided to let me do as I pleased, holding a faint hope I’d one day unleash my talent.

From that moment, Suzuki Hotaro became the “sports scholarship student who doesn’t do sports.”

I left the classroom after the talk, letting out a relieved sigh.

Finally, free from all that attention.

It took forever to escape the hype of being Shuchiin’s first sports scholarship student.

If I hadn’t made that dumb bet with Miyuki, I wouldn’t have drawn so much scrutiny. Too late now—spilled milk and all. My solution? The “I’m actually bad at sports” act.

I refused media interviews, so the buzz about “the first successful applicant” died down when I stayed out of sight.

Inside the school, my admission was a hot topic, especially among sports clubs. But after all my “blunders,” they concluded I got in through my parents’ influence. (Oddly, no rumors about who my parents are—lucky break.)

My first year was… fine. As a “mixed” student from outside Shuchiin’s system, blending in with the “pure” students who’d been here since elementary was tough, but not awful.

My grades? Always dead last, but whatever.

Walking down the hall, I spotted Miyuki.

“Yo, where you headed?”

“Finishing student council stuff. No time to breathe.”

This guy’s living his golden era.

Shuchiin’s take on Miyuki? A brilliant mind, always topping mock exams.

A powerhouse who can go toe-to-toe with the nation’s best geniuses.

Respected for his academics alone, his exemplary attitude made him student council president despite being an outsider.

—That’s the embarrassingly grandiose praise plastered all over him.

Is this really the same dorky Miyuki I know? What a wild glow-up.

I’m proud of my friend’s transformation, but…

“Thought about it yet?”

“Ugh, not this again. Student council?”

He’s been pestering me about joining for months. It’s a headache.

“Come on, you’d be perfect—”

“Nope, not joining.”

“Let me finish! Think about it seriously!”

“You should give up after this many rejections.”

“Ugh…”

I get why he’s asking. As a “mixed” student, being president isn’t easy. Having a longtime friend like me for support would help.

But the student council and my energy-saving lifestyle? Worst match ever. It’s full of busybodies, endless tasks…

Zero appeal. The only perk might be prestige, but I don’t care about reputation.

The council’s just too much for me. To shut him down, I listed my reasons.

“We’ve known each other since middle school, sure, but drop it. My grades are rock-bottom, I’ve got no friends, and my rep’s trash. There’s no merit in dragging me into the council, so…”

Miyuki’s face hardened, and he stepped closer.

“You think I’d give you a big role just because we’re friends?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Grades? I’ve never judged you by numbers. If I needed grades, I’d pick from the top scorers.”

“Then why me?”

“Ahem, this is embarrassing to say…”

“Don’t make it cringy.”

“You see through things.”

“…?”

“Your energy-saving shtick could be called lazy, but when you do what’s necessary, you’re more efficient, sharper, and adaptable than anyone.”

This guy’s been watching me like that? Tone it down, man, you’re embarrassing me.

He cleared his throat and continued.

“The council deals with urgent issues and trivial nonsense alike. In limited time, we need someone who can stay critical, grasp the point fast, and solve things cleanly. You’re the only one I trust for that.”

“…”

“Friends? You think being president and top of the class means I’ve got some glamorous social life? Nope. You’re the only one I can open up to. This is a lonely, brutal role. Fail to deliver, and you’re out.”

“Hmm.”

I know how hard he worked to get here, how desperate and grueling it was.

“Rumors? You’re free to ignore that garbage, but you got in on your own merit.”

“People spreading rumors don’t care about the truth.”

They just want something to chew on. But…

“Others might not know, but I do. I need you, no matter what they say.”

This guy’s different.

That much is certain.

“…”

He held out his hand.

“Join the council, Hotaro.”

“Miyuki, you…”

Spouting sappy stuff first thing in the morning.

Even when I’m stuck in my own void, he’s the guy who reaches out.

That’s Shirogane Miyuki for you. Makes it hard to say no…

“Nope, still not joining.”

Almost fell for it.

It’s just a fancy way of saying it’s a ton of work. Hard pass.

“Hey, come on…! Just try—!”

The cool vibe from earlier? Gone. He’s back to pathetic mode, practically clinging to my leg.

Worn out by his persistence, I agreed to try it for a week, just to get him off my back.

Yup, there’s the dorky Miyuki I know.