Morning sunlight spilled through the clouds like spilled ink, gold bleeding into blue. From the rooftop of Jeremy High, Riyura Shiko could already hear the chaos below — the distant clatter of hurdles being dropped, whistles echoing like seabirds, and someone shouting about "honor and athleticism" in a voice too dramatic for this hour.
It was the morning of the Annual Fun Athlete Contest — a day that the teachers called "team-building," but everyone else knew as a public exercise in collective embarrassment.
Riyura tugged at his crimson bow tie and smiled to himself. It fluttered slightly in the morning breeze — ridiculous, yes, but part of who he was. "Alright," he murmured. "Let's turn this school into a circus again."
The Lineups: Everyone's in the Race
By the time he reached the courtyard, the festival had already begun. The air shimmered with laughter, chalk dust, and the faint smell of cheap yakisoba from the food stalls lined along the track.
There they were — his people, his friends, his daily dose of barely-managed chaos.
Subarashī Saiyahito, stretching like a hero on an anime poster, shouting,"Behold my endless stamina! My spirit shall pierce the heavens! "He flexed, accidentally ripping his brand new anime t-shirt a bit. No one was surprised.
Miyaka Saiyahito, his younger sister, looked both mortified and determined, muttering,"Maybe if I look confident enough, no one will see me collapse after the first lap." Spoiler: everyone would.
Shoehead Gloveohiko, chewing on what appeared to be an actual shoe. "For luck," he claimed. Riyura didn't even bother questioning it anymore.
And finally — Cartoon Headayami, the serious Student Council President who had somehow been tricked (or blackmailed) into participating after the entire school signed a petition titled, "Please Let Headayami Smile Once in His Life."
His scowl alone could destroy nations. And then there was the final contestant. The figure himself. The myth himself. The walking existential crisis with a coffee addiction.
Principal Jeremy Poleheadedsandwhich.
He arrived with a whistle around his neck, a thermos in hand, and a look in his eye that suggested he'd had too many mornings and not enough sleep.
The Principal's Secret Weapon: Coffee Craze
The first event was the 100-meter dash.
Students lined up. The crowd buzzed. Riyura was ready into position, glancing sideways at his friends. That was when the principal took a dramatic sip from his thermos.
"Ah," he sighed, eyes glowing faintly. "The sacred coffee race of destiny." No one paid attention—until it happened.
POOF. A blinding burst of steam, the smell of roasted caffeine, and suddenly… Principal Jeremy was gone. In his place: a tiny, chibi-sized version of himself, buzzing like a wasp in human form.
His voice came out three octaves higher.
"Wheeeee-YAAAAAAAHOOOOOO! COFFEE TASTES LIKE DRUGS!"
Riyura blinked. "Did… did our principal just commit a miracle?"
"Behold!" Subarashī shouted, pointing dramatically. "He has ascended to a higher plane of existence!" "...He's just smaller," Miyaka said flatly. The chibi principal zoomed around the track, a blur of motion and caffeine-fueled insanity, circling Riyura twice before the whistle even blew.
"WAIT—!" Riyura shouted, but it was too late. BANG! went the starting pistol. And with that, the chaos began.
Crazy Events: The Hundred-Meter Disaster
Riyura ran as if his honor depended on it — bow tie flapping, sneakers slapping the track — but he was no match for the caffeinated speed demon darting circles around him.
"Wheeee-YAAAAA! FEEL THE BEANS!" the chibi principal screamed, leaving afterimages in the air like a time-lapse. Shoehead tripped over his own shoelace (still chewing the other shoe). Subarashī tried to "activate his flight mode" by flapping his arms — he face-planted directly into the mud pit. Miyaka managed to sprint halfway before stopping to help Subarashī up, muttering, "This is why we can't have nice things."
Headayami finished last. Not because he was slow, but because he stopped halfway through to lecture two students about "maintaining a proper spine alignment."
When the race ended, the chibi principal had already run three extra laps and was currently standing atop the finish line banner, arms raised.
"I AM SPEED! I AM COFFEE!" He declared it like a prophet discovering enlightenment in a mug.
The Obstacle Course of Existential Crisis
The next event was the obstacle course.
Hurdles, tunnels, rope swings — the kind of setup that tested not strength, but willpower. Riyura jogged in place, psyching himself up. Headayami was adjusting his glasses, giving everyone a pre-race pep talk that sounded suspiciously like a motivational podcast.
"Remember," he said solemnly. "The mind commands the body. The heart commands the mind. And I command all of you."
"Seriously," Subarashī said, stretching. "You command nothing." The whistle blew. Instant chaos. Miyaka darted forward, surprisingly easy, while Subarashī tried to pole vault the first hurdle and nearly took out a referee.
Shoehead slid under the rope barrier on his stomach like an action hero — then got stuck halfway.
Headayami, trying to maintain perfect form, tripped over a stray cone and went down like a fallen general. Riyura laughed so hard mid-run that he almost missed his own jump, barely catching the edge of the platform.
And through it all —the chibi principal zoomed past like a caffeinated comet, hopping onto a student's back and shouting,"TO INFINITY, AND MORE COFFEE!" Even the teachers stopped pretending this was organized.
Tug of War: The Battle for Fame
By mid-afternoon, the sun had turned the courtyard golden, and the final team event began: the Tug of War.
On one side: Riyura's crew. On the other: the rest of the student body.
And floating somewhere in the middle, clinging to the rope for dear life — the chibi principal. He wasn't supposed to be there. He simply was.
"BEGIN!" shouted the referee.
Both sides heaved. Headayami barked commands like a military officer. Miyaka gritted her teeth. Subarashī was yelling "POWER UP" for the fifth time. Shoehead had resorted to biting the rope for moral support.
The principal spun midair, shrieking,"VICTORY IS BREWED IN THE CAULDRON OF COFFEE!" And somehow, despite everything — despite physics, logic, and sanity — Riyura's team won.
They collapsed backward in a tangled heap, gasping and laughing, the rope still clenched between them. For a moment, the noise faded. The wind carried the laughter of students, the smell of fried food, the shimmer of sunlight off the school's cracked windows. It was silly, messy, human — and in that fleeting pause, Riyura realized something. This… this is what makes all the nonsense worth it.
Bonds, Cheers, and the Sound of the Heart
They gathered on the sidelines as the sun began to dip lower.
Headayami sat, lecturing the group again — but softer this time.
"I still don't understand how fun can exist without structure," he admitted, glancing down. "But perhaps… I'm starting to see its value." Riyura nudged him. "That's code for 'I had fun,' right?"
Headayami didn't answer, but the corner of his mouth twitched. That was enough. Nearby, Miyaka and Subarashī had started a contest to see who could make the silliest victory dance. They ended up tangled in jump ropes, collapsing into laughter so hard they couldn't breathe.
Shoehead, somehow still munching on his shoe, sighed. "You know what? Today wasn't bad. Could use more snacks, though." Riyura grinned. "That's the spirit."
For a second, it wasn't about winning. It wasn't about competition or glory. It was about the sunlight filtering through leaves, the way laughter carried across the field, the quiet heartbeat of youth that existed between jokes. It was absurd, yes. But beautiful.
The Grand Coffeenale
As twilight stretched across the school grounds, the final event began — the Great Jeremy Relay.
Every student lined the courtyard. The air buzzed with energy.Even the chibi principal looked strangely serious (insofar as a caffeine-charged miniature adult could). The baton gleamed faintly under the setting sun.
The first lap began. Riyura sprinted. Miyaka followed. Subarashī took a dramatic tumble mid-hand-off. Headayami shouted about "proper hand coordination," and Shoehead managed to pass the baton using only his teeth.
And then it was the principal's turn.
He took one final sip of his coffee — his body glowing faintly — and blasted off like a meteor.
"COFFEE TASTES LIKE DRUGS! I AM UNSTOPPABLE! WHEEEEEEE-YAAAAAAAHOOOOOO!"
The crowd roared.
He zoomed around the entire field twice, overtook his own teammates, and crossed the finish line five times before collapsing into the grass — a tiny, trembling heap of victory and caffeine. For a moment, the world stood still.
Then everyone burst into cheers.
Closing Moments: The Gentle Silence After Chaos
After the last event, twilight softened into evening. The sky turned indigo, scattered with clouds that caught the last hints of orange. Riyura and his friends sat together on the grass — breathless, mud-streaked, and smiling like fools. The principal was lying face-up nearby, still in chibi form, murmuring faintly about espresso beans and destiny.
Headayami sighed. "He'll be fine. Probably."
Riyura looked up at the sky. The first stars were beginning to appear. He felt something inside him — not quite joy, not quite nostalgia — something in between.
"You know," he said quietly, "days like this… they never feel important until they're over."
Miyaka leaned back beside him, her hair catching the faint wind. "Yeah. Then they hit you like a memory you didn't know you were making." Subarashī, flat on his back, groaned. "Can memories hurt? Because I'm in pain."
Everyone laughed.
And for a brief, fragile second, Riyura saw it —the light pooling over his friends' faces, the laughter echoing like music across the courtyard, the smell of coffee still hanging faintly in the air.
It was all ridiculous, fleeting, and somehow precious.
Maybe that was the point. That in a world as bizarre as Jeremy High, it was the absurdity itself that made life feel real. He smiled, eyes closing against the glow of the setting sun.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Even a chibi coffee-fueled principal can be the brightest star sometimes."
The wind shifted, carrying the sound of laughter and a faint, lingering "Wheeee-YAAAAAAHOOOOOO" into the distance. The day was over.
But the memory — that strange, chaotic, beautiful memory — would stay forever.
TO BE CONTINUED...