promotion (locked) school life (locked) choco and me (locked) arm care (locked) a girl friend (locked) pai and soccer (locked) the photoshoot (locked) friendsgiving (locked) the third fight (locked)
It's halfway through the meet and you don't see him in the stands. And that's fine, you didn't expect your father to come, you'd only mentioned it on the off chance he'd wonder where you were, and--Shimizu smacks you on the shoulder on the way to the track. Time for the 800, and for you to get your head in the game.
Time for your usual ritual: tie up your hair to a messy ponytail. Tap your toes against the track, to get the feel of it; right once, then left twice. Don't stare up to the actual decent sized crowd this time, since it's not like there's ever--
"Queridinha!"
Your father's voice carries clearly, even over the crowd, and you whip your head around, face warm at the casual endearment. He stands out, ruddy-faced and wild-haired and waving a sign with your name on it, and his rowdy construction buddies whoop when you turn towards the stands. God, did he bring the entire job site? Have they been drinking? ...You're pretty sure the answer to both questions is yes, but their cheer is genuine and something in your chest twinges. "Queridinha, you must win, otherwise our party will have been for nothing!"
The hot feeling in your chest is embarrassment, you decide, but you wave back anyway, the deep tan of your arm only broken by the strip of cloth winding around it, a motley of your school's blue and red, the whole team having signed it for luck at regionals. It's dumb. But you worked hard for this, and you wanna show 'em all. You wanna win.
You do.
Sakuragaoka is hardly the underdog--you'd come first in prefecturals and all--but it's still a rush when your team keeps winning, and more importantly, you keep winning. You run in three events--the 800, the 1500, and tetrathlon--you friggin' destroy the shotput--and place in them all. In fact, your 1500 meter is a personal best, and over all the voices shrieking it's your father's hoarse cheers you hear as you cross the finish line with first place.
And with that, it's pretty much over. The normally gruff Captain Ebisawa looks like she could kiss you, and Shimizu (who is never not at your throat and beat your 800 time by the better part of a second) actually does, and the relay team starts up a high-five tunnel, and by the end of it all your neck is slung with medals and you are going to Nationals and it's pretty much the most spectacular thing you can conceive of.
Your father and his gang roar as you take the podium, cheering even louder than the rest of the modest crowd. Thankfully they don't storm the field, but they do invite anyone who'll listen back to your place for a party that you know from experience will continue late into the night; possibly until old Yonekawa calls the cops. But there're no sirens yet, just your team and your father and your neighbors and for once, that's enough.
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cheer [[unlocked day 102]]
Time for your usual ritual: tie up your hair to a messy ponytail. Tap your toes against the track, to get the feel of it; right once, then left twice. Don't stare up to the actual decent sized crowd this time, since it's not like there's ever--
"Queridinha!"
Your father's voice carries clearly, even over the crowd, and you whip your head around, face warm at the casual endearment. He stands out, ruddy-faced and wild-haired and waving a sign with your name on it, and his rowdy construction buddies whoop when you turn towards the stands. God, did he bring the entire job site? Have they been drinking? ...You're pretty sure the answer to both questions is yes, but their cheer is genuine and something in your chest twinges. "Queridinha, you must win, otherwise our party will have been for nothing!"
The hot feeling in your chest is embarrassment, you decide, but you wave back anyway, the deep tan of your arm only broken by the strip of cloth winding around it, a motley of your school's blue and red, the whole team having signed it for luck at regionals. It's dumb. But you worked hard for this, and you wanna show 'em all. You wanna win.
You do.
Sakuragaoka is hardly the underdog--you'd come first in prefecturals and all--but it's still a rush when your team keeps winning, and more importantly, you keep winning. You run in three events--the 800, the 1500, and tetrathlon--you friggin' destroy the shotput--and place in them all. In fact, your 1500 meter is a personal best, and over all the voices shrieking it's your father's hoarse cheers you hear as you cross the finish line with first place.
And with that, it's pretty much over. The normally gruff Captain Ebisawa looks like she could kiss you, and Shimizu (who is never not at your throat and beat your 800 time by the better part of a second) actually does, and the relay team starts up a high-five tunnel, and by the end of it all your neck is slung with medals and you are going to Nationals and it's pretty much the most spectacular thing you can conceive of.
Your father and his gang roar as you take the podium, cheering even louder than the rest of the modest crowd. Thankfully they don't storm the field, but they do invite anyone who'll listen back to your place for a party that you know from experience will continue late into the night; possibly until old Yonekawa calls the cops. But there're no sirens yet, just your team and your father and your neighbors and for once, that's enough.