Our team took a brilliant first place in the Flying Board preliminary race, securing our spot in the finals.
"We did it!" Hina cheered.
"Aoi's strategy worked perfectly," I added.
"That course was mostly straight, but the finals look like they'll be much more complex. That’s when the real challenge begins," Aoi said, her expression shifting. "Still, since we’re in it, we might as well give it our all!"
Hina chuckled. "Uh-oh, Aoi-senpai's competitive streak is flaring up."
Hina was right. Compared to when we started, Aoi's energy—or rather, her motivation—had clearly spiked. She was surprisingly competitive. Her stance was basically "if I'm going to do something, I'm going to win with everything I've got." That was fine in itself, but the real issue would be if we lost.
I could easily imagine her becoming even more fired up than Hina, potentially insisting we come back and try again next year if we didn't take the trophy.
Thinking about it that way, would it be better if we just won so she could feel satisfied? Still, there weren't really any famous powerhouse teams in our last heat; I didn't think winning the whole thing would be quite that easy.
As I walked along with those thoughts, three familiar figures blocked our path. They were three men in yellow tank tops with rippling, well-defined muscles, standing with their arms crossed and sporting fearless smiles.
Ah, I recognized them. They were from that "powerhouse" team... uh, what was their name again?
I remembered Scarlet Blue and Black Muscat, but even though these three had the biggest visual impact, their team name was so forgettable that it wouldn't come to me.
As I struggled to recall it, Aoi muttered with a puzzled look. "Those are... if I remember correctly, that team called Yellow Pipe."
That’s it! Yellow Pipe! I remembered now—they were the ones weirdly obsessed with muscles. I wondered if they had business with us?
As the thought crossed my mind, the members of Yellow Pipe struck a series of macho poses before addressing us.
"Hmph! We witnessed your battle just now!"
"Your technique is still rough—the marks of a rank amateur—but the way you powered through that race by utilizing your muscles was truly impressive!"
"You possess muscles that cannot be underestimated! You show great promise."
"Y-Yeah... thanks," I replied vaguely.
I had no idea where they sensed "muscles" in our race tactics, but I figured it was a topic I shouldn't press. I assume this was what you'd call a classic pre-battle development: praising the opponent while delivering a declaration of war.
"But remember, there is always a higher peak to climb!"
"Your muscles are commendable, but they are still no match for ours!"
"Regardless, we have high expectations for you. Let us engage in a legendary clash where our muscles dance with joy in the finals!"
The members of Yellow Pipe, whose presence and words were equally stifling, struck one final, sharp macho pose before walking away with booming laughter.
"...That was a declaration of war, right?" I asked.
"I think so," Hina said. "Apparently, they felt some 'muscles' from us."
Aoi looked skeptical. "...I get the feeling they aren't the type of people you can actually reason with."
Hina and Aoi both wore complicated expressions. Just as Aoi said, they didn't seem like the type for normal conversation. They were muscle-heads to the very core, as if even their brains had been replaced by brawn.
"Is Yellow Pipe in the next race?"
"Let’s see... it looks like they’re in the 6th heat," Aoi checked.
I see. They must have spotted us on their way to the staging area. Still, every one of them was over two meters tall and tan, their muscles bulging beneath those tank tops. Their visual impact was definitely the strongest of the day. They looked more like professional bodybuilders than flying board enthusiasts.
And so, we went back to spectating. When the 6th heat finally began... Yellow Pipe was eliminated.
"...They walked up with that 'final boss' aura, and they lost?!" I blurted out.
"And it’s not like they had an accident or a technical failure," Hina noted. "They just... lost. Completely normally."
Aoi looked like she wanted to bury her face in her hands. "...U-Um, what was the point of them striking poses on their board while racing...?"
Indeed, despite all that talk about meeting in the finals, they had been knocked out. It was no wonder Aoi and Hina looked utterly exasperated. I didn't know if they were trying to provide fan service or what, but they had spent half the race striking macho poses on their moving boards. According to the announcer, the team that actually won the heat wasn't even a powerhouse; it was a group of first-time participants.
Well... I suppose their impact was still the greatest, regardless of the result. You could say they lost the match but won the attention. I certainly wouldn't be forgetting the name Yellow Pipe anytime soon.
I was starting to feel a bit anxious, knowing there were still two other teams—Scarlet Blue and Black Muscat—left to contend with.