Tokyo: Proving one's position from behind the scenes

University of Tokyo.

Autumn sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns of gold across the asphalt. Hoshimiya Ei walked ahead, her white dress and crimson hakama standing out starkly in the schoolyard. Some passing students glanced back, but she remained oblivious, or perhaps she was simply used to it.

"So this is what university is like."

She looked up at the old red-brick building of the law school, its facade covered with half-withered ivy, the edges of the leaves yellowed, the roots of the vines still a deep green. She looked at it for a while, then turned to the more imposing library next door, her gaze lingering for a few seconds on the bronze relief at the library's main entrance, before looking away and continuing on her way.

Nagayama Akira followed half a step behind her, wearing that white short-sleeved shirt, his hands in his pockets. His gaze swept from the red brick wall of the Faculty of Law to the bronze door of the library, and then from the bronze door of the library to the spire of Yasuda Auditorium in the distance. His expression was as unchanged as usual.

Going to university turned out to be much simpler than Hoshimiya Ei had imagined.

She casually mentioned to the president of the University of Tokyo when he visited the shrine that she wanted to go to the university with Nagayama. The president immediately assured her that it was no problem and sent two special admission documents to the shrine the next day. The efficiency was as high as if she had received a major request from voters during a crucial period of her re-election campaign—which was probably quite similar.

Of course, neither of them was interested in going to school. Hoshimiya Akira was a shrine maiden of the Inari Shrine, and Nagayama Akira had his own things to do. For them, the school registration was just a pass that could be used occasionally.

With the principal's connections, I can come and go as I please, and no one will say anything.

Turning past the law school, the sports field comes into view. A wire fence surrounds the field, with a few withered leaves blown up by the wind hanging from the mesh. The running track is reddish-brown, and in the center is a neatly trimmed lawn, which gleams a dry, pale gold in the autumn sun.

On the side of the playground closest to the barbed wire fence, a group of people were gathered. From outside the fence, only the backs of their heads and shoulders could be seen, with a few figures occasionally peeking out between the shoulders. It was impossible to tell what they were doing inside.

Hoshimiya Ei stopped in her tracks.

"It's so lively over there," she said, her toes already turning in a different direction.

Akira Nagayama glanced in the direction of the crowd, then at Ei Hoshimiya's retreating figure, said nothing, and followed.

Upon closer inspection, a circular open space had been cleared in the center of the crowd. Standing on one side of this space was a middle-aged man in his forties, wearing a dark blue vest. He was stocky and had the University of Tokyo's emblem and the words "Athletics Club" printed in small white letters on the chest of his vest. He stood with his arms crossed, his posture steady, and a smile playing on his lips—the kind of confident smile that seemed to be waiting for the other person to make a fool of themselves.

A boy was standing on the other side of the open space.

She has short pink hair, a round face, and her shoulders and arms are clearly visible under her sportswear. She stands casually with her hands hanging at her sides, her fingers slightly curled, and her expression is somewhere between confused and helpless.

Akira Nagayama asked a bespectacled boy next to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Ah, um, Mr. Takagi from the track and field club wants to dig up the Japanese knot from the Occult Club."

He pointed to the center of the open space.

"The one with pink hair is Yuto Itadori. He just enrolled this year and joined the paranormal club as soon as he came in. But last week in PE class, during the physical fitness test, he ran the 100 meters in just over nine seconds, without even wearing spikes. Ms. Takagi couldn't sit still on the spot."

"So this means he's personally poaching talent?" Hoshimiya Ei asked.

"Yes." The bespectacled boy lowered his voice, "Takagi-sensei said there would be a competition, and if Itadori lost, he would join the track and field club. Itadori agreed."

"Compare what?"

"Shot put."

The bespectacled boy pushed up his glasses, his tone filled with an excited, gossipy tone.

"Teacher Takagi himself is a shot putter, and he was among the top eight in the national team during his university days. He must have thought that Itadori had never practiced shot put, so he must not know the technique, and he was sure to win."

In the center of the open space, Mr. Takagi was already standing next to the throwing circle, a circular area made of cement along the edge of the playground. The ground inside the circle was slightly higher than the surrounding area and was coated with a layer of gray anti-slip paint. He placed a shot put on the ground in front of Yuto Itadori. The shot put was a standard 7.26 kilograms, dark in color, with several scratches of varying depths on its surface.

The pink-haired boy picked up the shot put and threw it like a baseball.

The shot put formed a high arc, starting in the throwing circle of the playground, reaching above the treetops of the roadside trees at the edge of the playground, and ending outside the playground.

To be precise, it's at the football field next door.

"Bang--!"

The shot put struck the football frame of the adjacent football field with such force that it dented the stainless steel frame.

"Um... about 30 meters."

The student responsible for measuring the distance of the shot put pulled the measuring tape, looked at the indentation on the goal, and gave an uncertain number.

The playground was quiet for a moment, then erupted in gasps.

"The world record is only 23.12 meters, 30 meters... that's monster."

"Is that a gorilla?"

……

Mr. Takagi stood beside the throwing ring, his arms loosening from their crossed-chest position, hanging at his sides with his fingers slightly spread. The confident smile on his face had completely vanished, replaced by an expression that was somewhere between shock and bewilderment, like someone who had spent a lifetime solving math problems and suddenly discovered that one plus one equals three.

Yuto Itadori stood in the throwing circle, his right hand still in the natural hanging position after throwing the shot put, while his left hand scratched the back of his head.

"Um...Takagi-sensei, is this alright?"

Takagi-sensei did not answer.

Akira Nagayama stood on the outermost edge of the crowd, his hands in his pockets. His gaze passed over the shoulders of the people in front of him and landed on the pink-haired boy in the throwing circle.

The phantom images of three copper coins appeared at his fingertips, and the invisible destiny was connected by the hexagrams, with the imagery unfolding layer by layer.

Lou Jin.

[Lou Jin] is the master of the garden and pasture, the master of sacrifice, the master of raising troops and gathering people, the master of war and killing, and the metal element is in its proper position.

Born from the anode, it is incomparably sharp, like the thin and sharp edge of a blade, or the cold glint of an axe when it cleaves the air.

Yuto Itadori stepped out of the throwing circle, jogged to the soccer field, jumped up, and pulled the shot put off the goalpost. The shot put was stuck very tightly; he pulled twice before finally freeing it. He then tucked the shot put under his arm, jogged back, and placed it back on the ground in front of Mr. Takagi.

"I'm sorry, I broke the door frame," he said, his tone filled with sincere apology.

Mr. Takagi looked down at the shot put, then looked up at Dohara, his lips moved, but he ultimately said nothing.