I Was Reincarnated As a Man who Steals The Protagonist’s Childhood Friend

The morning sun hung low in the sky, giving a warm glow over Tensai High School, which buzzed with excitement. Banners in different classes flew in the wind, booths were set up around the grounds, and students dressed in sports clothing, chatting excitedly about the day’s festivities. The first day of the Sports Festival had finally arrived and there was an overwhelming feeling of excitement. I tightened the strap on my camera bag and took a deep breath. Today is going to be a long day.

“Alright, everyone,” Akira said, clapping his hands to get our attention. The Photography Club members had gathered near the main stage, each prepared to photograph every moment of the festival. “The Student Council has given us a very important task to our beloved club: to cover every event and take memorable pictures of it. So, stick to your assigned areas, and if you’re done, you can proceed to next area. If you get good shots, don’t forget to label and organize them.”

I nodded alongside the others, capturing Hoshino’s attention. She gave me a brief smile, which I responded with a peculiar flutter in my heart. Today was going to be a busy day, but knowing she’d be there made it a little easier.

“Ready, Takeshi-kun?” Hoshino asked, adjusting her own camera.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Let’s make some memories.”

With that, we split up and fulfill our assignments.

An hour passed after the official opening of the festival, I moved through the crowd, pausing every few steps to take candid shots—students laughing, the determined expressions of competitors, teachers trying to wrangle unruly participants. When suddenly, a group of third-year students approached me, asking to take their picture, I obliged with a genuine smile.

“Everyone ready?” I called out, adjusting the focus. “Three… two… one—smile!”

The camera’s shutter clicked, freezing their joyful faces in time. I handed the camera back to them, nodding as they thanked him and ran off.

My next stop would be the courtyard, where students participated in a three-legged race. Laughter resonated as pairs tripped and regained their footing, encouraged by companions. I took photo after picture, documenting both successes and falls. Then, a group of underclassmen noticed me and waved.

“Takeshi-senpai! Take our picture!” one of the girls called out, excitement bright in her eyes.

“Wait, wait!” one of the boys shouted, pulling his friend into a playful headlock just as the shutter clicked. The resulting photo was a burst of candid joy, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks, senpai!” they chorused before running off to the next event.

“Anytime,” I murmured, moving on.

I went through different sections of the school—archery in the gymnasium, tug-of-war behind the science building, and even a comedic obstacle course run by the Drama Club. Each scene became another snapshot, a moment frozen in time. This was what I loved about photography—capturing the fleeting beauty of life and treasuring the moments.

By the time I got to the track and field area, I could feel sweat running down my back. The place was full with students cheering at the top of their lungs. The track was a swirl of activity, with participants stretching and mentally preparing for the next race.

“So, it hasn’t started yet, huh. “The 100-meter dash,” I said, glancing around the field. Then I noticed Natsu near the edge of the field, swinging his arms like a madman.

“Come on, Airi!” he hollered, his voice breaking from excitement. “Show ‘em what you’re made of!”

Suziki Airi, his girlfriend, was among the racers in the track and field. With her shoulder-length dark hair tied back in a ponytail, he caught his boyfriend’s eye and shot him a grin before resuming her warm-up.

What a lucky bastard I thought to myself.

Beside Natsu, Hibiki was hunched over her camera, snapping rapid-fire shots of the competitors.

“Hey there, Ueno-san.” she said without looking up. “Finally made it here?”

“Yeah. Looks like you’re busy,” I replied, gesturing to the field. “How’s it going?”

“Great shots so far,” she said, her tone professional.

Then, in a soft tone, she added, “You know, my sister has been a runner since we were kids. She used to beat everyone in our neighborhood races, and even back in her middle school. She is an amazing runner.”

“She’s got talent,” I said, impressed. “And dedication.”

“Yeah.” Hibiki smiled, the kind of smile that was more for herself than anyone else. “She deserves this.”

I left her to her job and shifted my attention to the track. My gaze moved over the field, and my breath caught. Chinatsu stood beside Airi, a girl she’d once considered a rival but had now befriended, and Hoshino, whose short black hair framed her determined expression. All of the participants donned the traditional track uniform, which included tight-fitting bloomers and athletic tops. Across the field, other boys muttered and gazed at the participants, their expressions ranging from awe to barely controlled excitement.

“They’re, uh, really focused.” I murmured, hurriedly shifting my gaze from the view I’d seen. It excites me for some reason.

Natsu, however, had no such filter. “Damn, they look good and sexy! Those bloomers are something else!”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Then, he looks at me and shot me a mischievous grin.

“You have no shame.”

“You know you agree,” Natsu laughed, unrepentant.

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t deny that the clothing they wear makes me tingle.

The starter pistol fired, and the runners charged ahead. Airi snatched the lead instantly, her long strides tearing along the course. Chinatsu wasn’t far behind, her expression filled with tremendous determination. I couldn’t help but cheer as the crowd’s excitement swept me away.

“Go Airi!” Natsu yelled, his voice hoarse.

As the race progressed, Chinatsu bridged the gap, her feet pounding the track in time with my rushing heart. But just as she was about to pass Airi, something unexpected happened: a flash of motion in the outer lane. It was Hoshino. Her petite figure moved with incredible speed, her breathing controlled and each step precise. In a rush of energy, she sprinted ahead and crossed the finish line first.

The crowd erupted. I stood frozen, a mix of surprise and pride washing over me. Hoshino slowed to a jog, catching her breath. She looked up, and our eyes met. She smiled, a small, exhausted smile, but one that lit up her entire face. I lifted my camera and snapped the moment before it faded.

The track and field event wound down, and I returned to my duties, weaving through the festival grounds. The air was thick with the aroma of grilled food, laughter ringing out from every direction. As I passed by the girl’s locker room, a figure emerged, stopping me in my tracks.

“Takeshi-kun?”

It was Hoshino, her face still flushed from the race. She approached hesitantly, glancing around as if afraid someone would interrupt.

“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Congrats. That was a good run.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Really? I… I didn’t think I’d win.”

“You were incredible,” I said earnestly. “I know you’re a fast runner, but I didn’t know you were THAT fast.”

She looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I just… wanted to do my best. I thought maybe you’d be watching.”

I swallowed, taken aback by her honesty. “I was. And you were amazing.”

A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the distant cheers of another event. “Did it… look okay?” she asked softly, peeking up at me through her lashes. “When I was running, I mean.”

“Okay?” I repeated, a smile tugging at my lips. “Hoshino, you looked like a champion.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought she might cry. But she blinked back the tears and laughed—a light, musical sound that made my chest feel too tight. “Thank you, Takeshi-kun. That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” I said, meaning it.

As we stood there, talking about nothing and everything, I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t known in a long time. But peace is a fragile thing. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a figure lurking in the shadows. Naoki. His gaze was fixed on us, his jaw clenched, hands curled into fists. The jealousy and rage in his eyes were unmistakable.

I tensed, but forced myself to focus on Hoshino. Whatever storm was brewing with Naoki, I’d deal with it later. For now, this moment belonged to us.

“Come on,” I said, offering my hand. “Let’s get back to work.”