The Quintessential Quintuplets: Marching Forward

Chapter Eight: In the Company of Fools

~Yotsuba~

Yotsuba craned her head up towards the sky—towards the relentless summer sun. She closed her eyes, wishing for just a tiny little cloud for some relief. Her body screamed, for it had long since reached its limit.

More!

More!

She willed her legs to push, one after the other, like a perfectly rehearsed dance or a well-oiled machine. Yotsuba swung her arms and imagined they were wings propelling her into the sky. She felt her muscles tighten in protest, her legs felt like fire. The wind zipped past her cheeks; her bright neon yellow Nike cleats pierced the bouncy synthetic track field, catapulting her into the air with each strike. She really did feel like she was flying, yet her lungs seared in agony. But it was okay—it didn't matter. She was almost there. She just needed three more seconds, only then would her body have permission to complain.

She lowered her head just before crossing the finish line, hoping to shave off precious microseconds.

A funny thought came to Yotsuba just as she crossed the line. Would they count my old ribbons if I had them on?

The usually deafening pop of the track gun sounded like it was a mile away, and the cheers of her teammates felt dull and just as distant. The spell had been broken; gravity was going to clip her wings now. She collapsed down to the bouncy synthetic track. Yotsuba felt as if someone had thrown a soaked futon on her. The team managers rolled her onto her back and stretched an oxygen mask around her head, securing the mouthpiece over her mouth. She felt a slight breeze on her face.

Oxygen!

She gulped up alkaline gas into her lungs, shivering with relief. Yotsuba's body slowed and relaxed. Her breathing steadied. Her friend—Yuna, face came into focus as the team of aids, and sports medicine managers crowded around Yotsuba. They got to work handing her towels, electrolyte tablets, and water and picking her head off the track field while rubbing and massaging her legs.

"Easy, easy, Nakano-san," Yuna urged. "You're a real demon! But now you just need to relax and listen to the sound of my voice," Yuna said. Her familiar Osakan twang comforted Yotsuba. She instantly felt a wave of relief wash over her upon realizing her friend was by her side.

"Inoue-san," Yotsuba groaned. "How'd I do?"

"You were ah-mazin', Nakano-san," Yuna cheered. "I think you outta pace yourself, though. If you show off too much, the coach will think that us first years need to try harder to keep up," she whispered in Yotsuba's ears, forcing Yotsuba to laugh. "So slacking off mo—"

"Inoue-san!" Maenaka-senpai appeared behind Yuna, interrupting her. "Go back with the first years. Coach has some drills ready."

"Oop," Yuna yelped. "Good luck, Nakano-san," she whispered before sprinting off to join the rest of the third years. Maenaka-senpai locked eyes with Yotsuba. "Thirteen-point-ten. Nakano-san, you were slower this time," Maenaka-senpai said with a hard look. She knelt next to Yotsuba. "That was about twenty milliseconds slower than your last. But I can tell that all that running during the rain this week helped straighten out your form. You did good for today, but you're gassed. Pack up and let the other girls get some reps in, okay?"

"No," Yotsuba wheezed. "Sorry, Maenaka-senpai, I can do one more. One more rep, and I can hit that PB."

Captain Maenaka shook her head. "Absolutely not, Nakano-san. You need to learn when to stop. It's no use to have one of our up-and-comers crashing and burning during practice. Save the hero stories for the actual competitions," she said. "Get her water, get her some more salt tablets and whatever else she needs, and then send her to the sports med doctor," she barked at the managers.