Anime Crossover: Tokyo Reincarnation Game — Chapter 21

Chapter 21: The Sports Genius That Sports Clubs Are Eager to Recruit

“That’s right.”

Asagiri’s flat confirmation hit the PE teacher like a winning lottery ticket. The man’s stern, square jaw instantly went slack, his eyes lighting up with the fanaticism of a gacha addict pulling an SSR unit. He practically lunged forward, words spilling out in a desperate rush.

“Utsunomiya-san! Come join our track and field club! With your raw talent, I guarantee you’ll sweep the national championships… No, we could even take you to the world stage!”

The teacher could hardly believe his luck. Every sports club at Shuchiin Academy was currently locked in a cutthroat war trying to recruit the legendary transfer student, Utsunomiya Asagiri.

His middle school resume was nothing short of absurd. Winning a national championship in a single sport like basketball, tennis, or badminton would normally guarantee a fast-track recruitment from that specific club. After all, the physical requirements varied wildly; a basketball prodigy rarely possessed the exact mechanics needed for tennis.

But Asagiri had dominated all three. For two consecutive years.

He was a once-in-a-century freak of nature. The male club advisors had spent the entire morning begging the girls’ sports clubs to lend them their prettiest upperclassmen, setting up elaborate honey traps at the club recruitment fair just to catch his eye. What hot-blooded high school boy could resist a beautiful senpai?

Yet, on his very first day, Asagiri had bypassed the fair entirely and wandered straight into the gym. Right into this teacher’s lap.

“Track and field?” Asagiri offered a faint, dismissive smile. “Not interested. I’m not joining any clubs.”

“Can’t you reconsider?” The teacher clung to a shred of hope, though he already knew the answer.

If Asagiri were just a meathead athlete, he would inevitably join some sports club and bring glory to Shuchiin. But Asagiri wasn’t just a physical anomaly; he was the undisputed top scorer of the Sakura Province joint entrance exam. Academic monsters of his caliber might join a casual club to kill time, but they rarely committed to the grueling, daily grind of competitive sports that could jeopardize their grades.

“I’m not considering it,” Asagiri said, his tone leaving zero room for negotiation.

“Ah… I see.”

The teacher deflated. He forced a stiff, heartbroken smile, nodded weakly, and dragged his feet toward the exit.

Asuna watched the man’s retreating back. He looked as though he had physically shrunk under the weight of the rejection. She lowered her voice, leaning slightly toward Asagiri. “Why do I feel like I just watched a guy muster up the courage to confess, only to get brutally shot down?”

Asagiri shoved his hands into his pockets, his expression entirely bored. “I never cared much for sports anyway.”

“Then why did you compete in three different national championships in middle school?” Asuna asked, tilting her head in genuine curiosity.

“Because I was bored.” Asagiri paused, his dark eyes sliding over to her. “But now, I’ve found something far more entertaining than sports.”

Asuna followed him deeper into the free-weight section, keeping her voice to a harsh whisper. “Are you talking about the game?”

“No. I’m talking about teasing you.”

Asuna froze. A furious flush crawled up her neck and seized her cheeks, breaking her usual refined composure. “W-What are you suddenly saying…?”

Asagiri stared at her stammering form, his expression deadpan. “That was sarcasm. Why are you getting shy? You’re completely transparent—a textbook love-struck idiot.”

“You…” Asuna ground her teeth. She glared at him, a mix of genuine grievance and utter helplessness against his absolute lack of shame.

Ignoring her smoldering glare, Asagiri stepped up to the heavy rack. He gripped a massive black dumbbell—the handle stamped with a bold ’40KG’—pulled it off the tier, and set it squarely on the rubber floor in front of her.

“Try it. See if you can lift it with one hand.”

Asuna stared down at the chunk of iron. She took a slow breath, squared her shoulders, and bent her knees. Gripping the cold metal handle with one hand, she braced her core and pulled.

Her face flushed a deep crimson. Within the span of a single minute, Asagiri had managed to make the elegant Ojou-sama blush three separate times: first from embarrassment, second from pure irritation, and now from sheer physical strain.

“Ngh…”

Ten seconds passed. The forty-kilogram weight didn’t even twitch. Panting slightly, Asuna finally let go and stood up, rubbing her palm. She looked away, deeply embarrassed.

“Sorry… I can’t budge it.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” Asagiri easily hoisted the dumbbell back onto its designated rack. He turned and headed for the gym exit, gesturing for her to follow. “It seems the basic ‘Swordsman’ class you got from the dungeon doesn’t come with a passive physical buff, or if it does, the multiplier is negligible. And that’s even with an A+ clear rating. It confirms that beginner dungeons are strictly tutorial levels meant to help Players adapt to the rhythm of the game. The system won’t hand out overpowered stats right out of the gate.”

Asuna nodded, falling into step beside him. As they walked out into the corridor, a sudden realization hit her. She opened her mouth to ask him something, but the words died on her tongue.

Just a moment ago… Asagiri had deliberately taken the heavy dumbbell off the rack and placed it on the floor before asking her to lift it.

Was he worried that if she failed to lift it directly from the rack, it might slip and crush her foot?

She stared at his back, a strange warmth blooming in her chest. Could it be… this ruthless, sarcastic guy was actually a textbook tsundere?