The sun beat down with pitiless intensity, heating the athletic field until the air shimmered with heat haze. Temperatures had comfortably surged past thirty degrees Celsius, and the streak of sweltering days showed no sign of letting up.
Perhaps that was why the handful of Track and Field Club members—who had been out on the field making final adjustments for the summer tournament—had long since retreated to the shade. It made sense; pushing oneself in this heat was a one-way ticket to heatstroke. Collapsing during pre-tournament practice would be the ultimate exercise in futility.
"Hey, Harada! We're still in the middle of class. Focus!"
"Ah, sorry!"
Snapped back to reality by the teacher's bark, I hurriedly turned toward the front and resumed copying notes from the board.
Once the teacher returned to his lecture and the rhythmic scraping of chalk, I stole a glance around the classroom. The sea of empty desks was depressing, and I let out a soft sigh. With so few students, there was nowhere to hide. The teacher’s eyes caught every stray glance or moment of distraction.
"There really aren't many of us... even for a summer intensive course," I muttered under my breath.
It was a pathetic turnout. Only eight people from my class had shown up, including me. We were the non-explorers—the ones without an Armed Exploration Permit. Almost everyone with a permit had charged off to the dungeons the moment summer vacation began. Attendance was just as dismal in the other rooms; I’d even seen one of the teachers clutching his head in frustration. While the summer intensive course was technically optional, the difference from last year was staggering. Back then, nearly everyone attended. Now, the atmosphere was like night and day.
Some of the more dedicated explorers had even bragged about booking cheap, no-frills lodging near the dungeons for the entire break. I’d wondered where high schoolers got that kind of cash, but it turned out a few of them had found two skill scrolls during spring break. They’d had them appraised, and since the skills weren't particularly useful, they’d sold the scrolls and used the profits as a war chest for the summer. It seemed like a smart move, though as a non-explorer who had never stepped foot in a dungeon, I wasn't really one to judge.
Still, I remembered the envious looks they’d received from other student explorers who overheard them. I suppose it must have been a lucky break.
"Harada, what are you doing with your head in the clouds? You bothered to show up for your summer vacation, so pay attention to the material."
"Ah, sorry."
"Don't just apologize. If my lecture is too boring for you, come up and solve this problem."
The teacher began scribbling a problem on the board. My heart sank. Why did it have to be such a difficult one? I must have looked horrified, because the teacher flashed a spiteful smirk. It was pure petty revenge for my daydreaming, but that didn't make the math any easier.
I trudged to the front of the room, feeling the pitying and exasperated gazes of my seven classmates on my back. Come on, guys, give me a hint or something.
"..."
"Stumped?" the teacher asked, his voice flat.
He wasn't being openly mocking, but I could feel the weight of his disappointment. I'm standing here in the heat for this? The feeling pierced right through me. To be honest, I felt more guilty than annoyed.
"...Yes."
"If you’d been paying attention to today’s lecture, you’d be able to solve this. It might have taken some time, but you’d have gotten it."
"I know. I'm... sorry."
"Go back to your seat. Listen to the rest of the lesson and make sure you review today's material."
"Yes, sir."
I slumped back to my desk. I tried to catch the eyes of my classmates—the ones who had been pitying me a moment ago—but they all looked away in unison. One guy even turned his entire body away from me.
Would a little sympathy kill you? I thought, even though I knew I’d earned the cold shoulder.
"Now then, we’ve been sidetracked enough. Let's continue."
I sat down and focused. This time, I kept my eyes glued to the front.
As I worked, I found myself hoping the second semester wouldn't be like the start of the third semester last year. I didn't want to see a parade of bandaged students, and I certainly didn't want the classroom to stay this empty.
In the school library, the air conditioning hummed comfortably. I had my textbooks and notebooks spread out across a wide desk, chipping away at my summer vacation assignments. Since the place was practically empty, I could keep all my reference books open without anyone complaining about me hogging the space.
Once I hit a natural stopping point, I leaned back and stretched, working the knots out of my stiff muscles. I looked around the silent library and sighed.
"It’s summer vacation, and yet it's so deserted. Last year, you had to fight just to get a chair."
There were a fair number of first-years, but second and third-year students like me were few and far between. Usually, the upperclassmen would pour out of the summer intensive courses and claim every available seat until closing time, effectively booting the first-years out. For a student, a cool place to study was prime real estate—it used to be a cutthroat battle of "first come, first served." But this year, the rules had changed.
The attendance for the upperclassman summer courses was abysmal to begin with. Naturally, students who skipped the lectures weren't going to go out of their way to visit the library for self-study. There simply weren't many second or third-years left in the building. It meant I didn't have to sprint to the library the second class ended, but...
"I don't even have anyone to study with," I whispered.
Fewer rivals for seats was nice, but I had no classmates to consult when I got stuck. These weren't even entrance exam prep materials; they were just standard summer assignments. In the past, we’d use human wave tactics—dividing the workload and sharing the answers for everything except the personal essays. It was the most efficient way to survive. Doing it all alone was an exhausting grind. If I could take the easy way out, I would; I wanted to finish this and actually enjoy my summer.
"This is all because of those dungeons..."
I looked at the pile of assignments I hadn't even touched yet and felt a surge of directionless resentment.
Whatever idiot released those dungeons into the world, come out right now! I have every curse and insult known to man ready for you!
"Sigh... I wonder what they’re all doing right now."
After venting my internal rage, I stared out the library window at the brilliant, sun-drenched blue sky. I thought of my classmates who had left with grand declarations about "making a fortune in the dungeon." I’d never actually seen them fight as explorers, so whenever I saw monsters on the news or in magazines, my stomach did a slow flip of anxiety.
I remembered how they’d looked after the last winter break—returning to school like a row of mummies wrapped in bandages. At least everyone had made it back that time, even if they were beat up.
"I really don't want to start the new semester with missing classmates," I muttered.
I pushed the dark thoughts aside and offered a silent prayer that everyone would show up on the first day of school.
Even if they were a little more "haunted house" than they used to be, the important thing was having the whole class together.
I kicked the soccer ball into the goal with everything I had. The net bulged and hissed as it caught the ball. I let out a long, heavy sigh, resting my hands on my hips as I stared up at the sky, feeling completely adrift.
One of my juniors watched me, looking like he wanted to say something but was afraid to break the silence. "Captain..."
"Don't," I said, cutting him off.
Anything he said would just be an empty comfort. It wasn't fair to make him struggle for words that wouldn't help anyway.
"...It's over."
"..."
"I never imagined it would end like this. Not before it even started."
That was as far as my composure went. I watched the ball bounce out of the net and roll to a stop in the grass. I covered my face with my hands and began to sob. The tears came on their own, a hot, unstoppable flood.
And then the bitterness followed.
"Damn it! I just wanted to play... I just wanted us to be in the tournament!"
The words I’d promised myself I wouldn't say—the weakness I never wanted my juniors to see—came spilling out between ragged sobs. My legs gave out, and I sank to the ground, hunched over.
Stop crying. Shut up. Put on a brave face for the kids. I tried to force the thoughts into reality, but my heart was broken.
"...Captain," I heard them murmur behind me. I could feel their presence, that awkward, pained stillness of people who want to reach out but don't know how.
That realization—that I was failing them even now—finally slowed the bleeding of my emotions. I couldn't go out like this.
After a long moment, I managed to stop the tears and pull myself back up. I didn't turn around immediately; I just spoke to the boys standing behind me.
"...Sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that."
"No, sir! You’re not pathetic, Captain! You’ve given everything to soccer... for it to end like this..."
"Still. I didn't mean to lose it. I just... the emotions got the better of me."
I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jersey and finally turned to face them. My eyes were probably red and swollen, but I forced the brightest smile I could manage. My juniors straightened their backs, giving me their full attention.
This was my final duty as Captain. I had to get this right.
"Listen, everyone. It’s official. Our membership has dropped too low, and the Soccer Club is disqualified from this year's summer tournament. But the thing that hurts the most isn't missing the games—it's that I won't get to step onto that field with you guys, the ones who stayed until the very end while everyone else was quitting. We tried so hard at the sports festival to show everyone what we could do, hoping to recruit enough people for the summer, but... those other guys stole the spotlight."
I thought back to the sports festival. Against those superhuman performances, we never stood a chance. I still wondered if those were even human movements. Is that what being an explorer did to you?
And for God's sake, why did a cultural club have to be more athletic than the actual athletic clubs? If they're a cultural club, they should act like it—use their words to show their charm instead of their bodies!
"We didn't give up, though. We spent every day looking for anyone who would join, even just as a temporary sub for the tournament. We really did try."
I saw my juniors gritting their teeth. We’d begged the first and second-years. We knew the third-years were busy with exams, but we asked them anyway.
But we weren't the only ones. Every athletic club was starving for members. It was a war for every warm body on campus. The clubs that only needed a few people managed to survive, but for a sport like soccer that needs eleven on the field... the hurdle was just too high.
"Including us, there are six. Only six... but also, all six of you. I'm grateful you stayed. But we can't play a match with six people."
I heard someone's jaw clench. We’d recruited like our lives depended on it, but only two people had even considered it. And I knew why. I knew the real reason we failed.
"Dungeons. Everything changed when they appeared. The world, the people... everything."
The moment they showed up, our members started quitting in droves. The club became a ghost town. Even when we tried to bring people back, the allure of being an explorer was too strong. The sports world as it is right now just isn't built to handle the existence of explorers.
"But listen to me. There are people out there who love soccer more than the dungeons. I know there are. We missed our chance this year, but please, don't give up on the game. If you keep playing... if you keep the fire alive, I promise you’ll find people who want to play with you. That’s all I have to say."
"Captain! Thank you for everything!"
They gave me a deep, formal salute. The tears threatened to come back, but I held them in. I forced a smile onto my face, even as it tried to crumple.
"I'm leaving the rest to you guys."
"Yes, sir!"
And just like that, my three years of high school youth—everything I’d dedicated to soccer—came to an end.