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The silver medal around her neck feels heavy, but Sumire isn’t sure it’s the physical weight that’s getting to her.
How many times has she worn similar medals? How many times has she walked in and out of competitions over the past few years, a smile on her face and another victory (or near-victory) added to her record? She’s grown so much since being the little fifteen-year-old lost in a world she swore was out to get her; now, at seventeen, Sumire should feel at the top of the world because of her accomplishments. She had put the facade on, yes, but the moment she enters the locker room it immediately falls away, her hand drifting to the medal resting against her chest and a furrow in between her brows.
Somehow, after years of competition, this win doesn’t feel as great as the previous ones did.
Sumire sighs and sits on the bench in the locker room, grabbing her phone from her bag and smiling at the notifications that greet her: congratulations from her friends, an image that she’s certain is a meme from Futaba, and an invite to a nearby cafe from Akechi to, in his words, ‘explore the city’s options beyond Kurusu-kun’s dingy cafe’ —as if he would choose to be anywhere else. She shakes her head and leaves the notifications unread, hand reaching up to start pulling her hair from its bun, but one last glance at her screen makes her pause.
“Sumire,” someone says, and Sumire jumps where she sits, head whipping up just in time to see Coach Hiraguchi enter the locker room. Her eyes go wide, but she doesn’t have a moment to speak before the woman’s eyes land on her and narrow. Busted . “I came to say congratulations on another performance well done, but it seems that’s not the mood you’re in.”
“Oh, it’s not that!” Her hands fly back up to the medal, nearly flinging her phone across the locker room in the process, and Sumire winces at the raised eyebrow sent her way. “I could have done better, of course, but I’m not… not proud of my performance. Your instruction has led me so far.”
“That may be so, but you still look like a kicked puppy.” Hiraguchi kneels in front of her, bringing her to eye level with Sumire, and rests her forearms on her knees. It’s quiet between them for just a moment, neither of them breaking the silence that forms. Eventually, Sumire tears her eyes away from her coach and stares at the wall.
“... it’s been two years,” she whispers. “Two years since Kasumi—well, since she—” She squeezes her eyes shut. “And all I managed to win for her is a silver. I can practically see her disappointment.”
“I’m willing to bet that’s you projecting,” Hiraguchi says. Sumire can practically see her head tilt behind her eyelids. “Your sister has always been proud of you, Sumire, and I have no doubt that still rings true. Why not be proud of your own accomplishment, though?”
“Because I want to live up to that pride!” Sumire whips her head back around, eyes open now and stinging with emotion. “If I don’t, what’s the point of me being here? Why continue if I keep failing her memory?”
The silence that echoes in the locker room is deafening, and she immediately wishes she could take back those words. Her coach has done so much for her ever since she and Kasumi decided to become gymnasts; to say this only throws those years back into her face. Hiraguchi doesn’t look mad or upset, though. She, impossibly, looks kind and understanding in the face of Sumire’s outburst, and Sumire remains tense as the coach reaches out to place her hand on her shoulder.
“Do yourself a favor, Sumire,” she says, her expression more serious than Sumire remembers seeing it outside of practice. “If that’s what you really think, then maybe gymnastics isn’t right for you,” Hiraguchi says nothing more; she just shakes her head and turns around, leaving Sumire alone in the locker room with her thoughts.
— —
The silence in Leblanc is deafening, but thankfully, Ren is patient with her silence. He’s always been patient in general, providing a listening ear when people need it or advice if they ask for it. People assume that he’s quiet and shy because of it, but Sumire knows better than that; she’s seen him shine in the metaverse, affirmative and far more confident than he seems outside of it. He has a certain charm to him that draws people in, and it’s for this reason that she’s in the little cafe rather than her room at home.
Hiraguchi’s words haven’t left her mind since she heard them at that last meet, bouncing around in her brain like a ridiculously erratic game of ping pong with no end in sight. Sumire is so lost in thought that she doesn’t notice Ren trying to get her attention until he says her name, her head whipping up while he leans forward with his elbows on the table.
“You’ve been staring at the table so hard it might catch on fire,” he says with a kind smile, though it does nothing to mitigate her embarrassed blush. “Something on your mind?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” Sumire says, folding her hands in her lap. She sees Ren shake his head, then tilt his head forward: a motion to continue. “I just… had a distressing conversation with my coach after my last meet. She said that gymnastics might not be for me, and I—I think she’s implying that I should drop the sport.”
Ren’s eyes widen, and Sumire feels marginally better about her own feelings. “Why would she suggest that?” he asks. “You’ve worked hard to get to where you are.”
That’s what she’s wondering. Sumire huffs, her bangs going every which way with the air, and looks away from Ren’s gaze. “... it was the anniversary of Kasumi’s death on the day of the competition. I was upset, of course, and might have lashed out a bit because of it. I—I got second place !” Her head whips back over, and Sumire ignores Ren’s shock. “We were always going to be on top, always , and if I’m going to do right by Kasumi, then a silver medal isn’t enough . I need to win gold, or—or—”
Sumire tears her eyes away from her friend again, eyes stinging. “Or what’s the point? I’ve failed her otherwise.”
Silence permeates the cafe once more, and Sumire is ready to excuse herself when Ren reaches out to place his hand in her field of vision. She looks up again, and the understanding in Ren’s eyes is almost painful. “You haven’t failed her, Sumire,” he says seriously. “But it might be good to step back for a bit and think gymnastics over. I’m not saying give it up completely, but maybe find something that’ll be solely yours?”
“And what good will that do?”
“It’ll give you something you enjoy that isn’t connected to Kasumi.” Ren gets out of the booth as Leblanc’s doorbell rings, and she’s forced to look up rather than anywhere else. “Pursuing gymnastics and honoring your sister’s memory isn’t a bad thing, but it’s also not a bad thing to find other hobbies that belong to you. Maybe a different sport, if you want to stay active?”
She blinks dumbly. That isn’t a bad idea, actually, and it would give her something to do until Hiraguchi lets her practice again. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Gymnastics is all I know.”
“Luckily for you, you’re not the only athletic one in our group.” Ren looks back over at the door, barely hiding a sigh as the older man sits at the counter. “Talk to Makoto or Ryuji. Haru did dance, and Morgana has a pretty strict workout regime. We’ll be more than happy to help you, Sumire—I promise.”
He walks off to return to work, and Sumire feels hopeful for the first time since Hiraguchi’s bombshell. Her friends will help her—of course they will. With everyone having such differing interests, surely there’s something she can do that’ll catch her attention as much as gymnastics has. Her determination renewed, Sumire gathers her things and waves to Ren before marching out of Leblanc, walking taller than she has in days.
A new sport. How hard can finding one be?
— —
As it turns out, finding a new sport is harder than she anticipates.
It’s not as though she doesn’t have options—her friends are all active people in one way or another, and once she mentions that she’s looking to try other hobbies, Sumire is practically bombarded with offers to help. Akechi, in his own way, invites her to go bouldering with him, while Ann tells her the physical activity that goes into modeling (and, after a day of being taught how to, she absolutely agrees). Yusuke focuses more on the art of posing, leading to a day of Sumire being his model in various positions, and by the time the day is done, her muscles ache in ways they haven’t before. Ren, the jack of all trades that he’s proven himself to be time and time again, joins her in a few of the activities, providing her the same support that he has since the beginning.
She’s never been more grateful.
Sumire doesn’t truly find activities that she takes to until she works with Makoto and Haru. Makoto should have been an obvious first choice, what with her being trained in aikido, but she’s (thankfully) not offended when Sumire comes to her asking to learn. They spend hours together, Makoto walking her through the basics of the art and teaching her as she would if they were studying for a test. By the time they’re done, Sumire’s worked up a sweat, and she bends over with her hands on her knees, catching her breath.
“That’s… a bit different than I’m used to,” she admits, and Makoto chuckles, sipping her water.
“You’ll get used to it, even if you don’t decide to pursue it fully.” She gives her a warm smile, and Sumire convinces herself that her face is red from the exertion only. “I’m more than happy to spar with you whenever you wish.”
Haru shares a similar sentiment, Sumire soon finds out. Though she (supposedly) hasn’t practiced dance in years, Sumire feels that no one would have noticed. She’s as graceful as she is on the battlefield, movements precise and beautiful—both things Sumire is convinced she will never truly be. She says as much to Haru, whose eyebrows nearly reach her hairline in surprise.
“You’re already both, Sumi-chan,” Haru says gently. “We can dance to our hearts’ content, and it will always be beautiful if you put your all into it. And since we’re not professionals, there’s no need to be perfect!”
Her giggle rings through the studio they’re using, and despite her frustration with dancing, Sumire can’t help but smile as well, her own giggles joining Haru’s.
Despite trying so many activities, nothing seems to click quite like gymnastics does. It’s irritating and disheartening, and by the time Sumire meets Ryuji in Inokashira Park, she’s certain her sour mood shows. Ryuji is as energetic as ever, even so early in the morning, hopping from foot to foot to keep himself warmed up and waving wildly once they make eye contact.
“Yo, Sumi!” he calls out, a grin on his face. “You warmed up yet or what? The sooner we get joggin’, the less likely we’ll have to jog in the heat.”
“I did a light jog on the way here,” she says once she reaches his side. “I should do some stretching first, to be safe. Just a moment.”
“Yeah, ‘course.” Ryuji is patient, far more so than she would have pegged him when they first met, and Sumire lets herself get lost in the familiar stretches she hasn’t done since her last competition. He’s watching her when she’s done, his brown eyes more serious than she’s used to, but rather than comment on whatever it is, Ryuji just gestures at her. “Off we go—keep up, Yoshizawa!”
Sumire grins, taking off after him.
The silence of their jog is comforting and the sound of their feet steadying, making her feel at peace for the first time in weeks. It’s rare that she feels relaxed around people, even friends, since Kasumi’s passing, but Ryuji is one of the few that allows her to do so. Her tension leaves her shoulders, mind zeroing in on the run, and when they stop, she’s sore in the best way. They walk a bit more to cool down, drinking their water and making small talk while catching their breaths, and Sumire is so calm that Ryuji’s question catches her off guard.
“So why’ya quitting gymnastics, anyway? I thought you liked it.”
Sumire freezes, sighs, and sits on the nearest bench, with Ryuji joining her a moment later. She almost doesn’t speak, but then everything spills out: “I’m not good enough! I try so hard, Ryuji, to be the best and win the competitions I enter, but every time I don’t get first… it makes me wonder if it’s worth the effort.” She bows her head. “I’m working hard for our dream: to be the best and win. How can I do that when I get second place?”
“Our dream?”
“Kasumi and I,” she explains. “We were going to rule the gymnastics world together, but then she… then the accident happened, and that was taken away from her. I have to keep winning for her.”
Ryuji doesn’t speak at first, but he opens his mouth before Sumire’s anxiety starts to build. “You like it, right? Gymnastics?”
“... yes?”
“You like the work and the competitions, like bein’ in the spotlight and showin’ off what you know?”
“Sure, but—”
“Then why quit?” Ryuji shakes his head, confusion clear on his face. “If you like the sport, then do it for you , not your sister. Ever think that’s what’s holdin’ you back?”
Her mouth opens and closes, making her feel like a fish, and all she can do is sit there while Ryuji grins at her and pats her shoulder.
“Take it from me, Sumi: you gotta play for yourself, or you’ll always hold yourself back. Listen to your senpai, yeah?”
For the first time since the competition, Sumire feels lighter, and she matches Ryuji’s grin. She loves gymnastics—why stop and hold herself back?
“You can count on me, senpai.”
— —
At her next competition, Sumire performs better than she feels she has before. She’s lighter and freer, and it shows when the first-place medal is hanging from her neck. The camera flashes nearly blind her, the crowd claustrophobic, but she sees a familiar head of brown hair and does a double-take.
Kasumi… she’s watching over me , she thinks, and Sumire swears she can hear Kasumi’s laughter above the din of the crowd, encouraging her toward a bright future.