A bit after Riona’s borrowing-race chaos, lunch was approaching. My three-legged race was the next event, so I was warming up at the edge of the field with Reona.
“It’s happening.”
“Yeah, more nervous than I expected.”
“Want to write 人 on your palm three times and swallow today?”
“Won’t help, pass.”
“Aw, guaranteed effect.”
Reona was reiterating the folk remedy. Her face suggested she fully believed it. We finished warm-ups and ran one last practice.
“This feels solid.”
“Of course — you and me, Ryouya-kun.”
Reona’s smug face was accurate — our pace was perfectly synced. More accurately: Reona was perfectly adapting to my movement.
Real-time motor matching with a different person is high difficulty, but Reona was doing it casually. Born talent. No amount of training would let me match her ability to match me.
“Right, the start grid.”
“Let’s demonstrate our chemistry.”
A bit later the judge directed us to the starting position. At the gun, on Reona’s go, we ran.
The three-legged race is grade-vs-grade — eight pairs total on the field. We were leading.
The other pairs weren’t bad — we were just fast. Barring a major accident, gold medal.
Then, three-quarters down the track, with the finish line visible, the major accident triggered. Reona suddenly stumbled on something.
“Whoa—!?”
I caught Reona from the side as she collapsed and prevented her hitting the ground. She was unhurt — but the impossible angle had popped the rope tying our ankles loose.
Other teams passed us. Even retying and restarting we were last place lock.
“Ryouya-kun, sorry — because of me the rope came off…”
“Don’t worry, it happens. Things going wrong is daily life. Like my whole life.”
I didn’t know the correct line, so I went with my standard self-deprecation. Reona’s apologetic face shifted brighter.
“That’s so you, Ryouya-kun. Thanks. Let’s finish — show the school we don’t give up.”
“Yeah — don’t trip this time, take it steady.”
“Yeah, on go.”
We re-tied and on go started again. Other pairs were already across the line; the field had just us running.
If I’d been alone this would have felt humiliating, but with Reona it didn’t. The cheers from the stands — go! — and the entire crowd’s attention focused on us was a little embarrassing.
I was used to attention with Reona-or-Riona, though, so the resistance was low. We finished without further incident — applause.