The Class Belle Transferred Her Fatigue To Me

During orientation training, the class belle, everyone’s favorite, led the entire class to protest against the orientation leader.

The orientation leader threatened to make us run as punishment, but she took on everyone’s training load by herself. But in reality, she shifted all the exhaustion onto me.

She ran 30 miles while carrying weights without batting an eye. Then, she told the orientation leader that she was willing to take on all the class’s remaining orientation training duties by herself.

From that point on, she became the darling of the entire class. Meanwhile, I was exhausted beyond measure, was frequently hospitalized, and was late to training.

It affected our class’s honor roll standing. I got yelled at by the whole class.

When I explained the situation to everyone, they dismissed me as a nutcase. “You’ve only been in training for a few days! How could you be this exhausted? I think you’re just faking it.”

“Are you just jealous that Eira Yard is in better shape than you, looks better than you, and is even more popular than you?”

In utter despair, I confronted Eira, but she casually changed into her orientation training uniform. “Please step aside. I’m going to run the final weighted cross-country race on behalf of the entire school. I don’t have time to mess around with you.”

Once she was done with the run in the 104-degree heat, her expression remained cool and collected.

I, on the other hand, felt as if my limbs had been severed. My organs failed, and I died on the spot.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of orientation training.

This time, I beat everyone to it and reported to the orientation leader.

“I’ll run for the whole class.”

“Looks like someone wants to play the hero for all of you. If you want to run for others, it’ll be 30 miles!”

The orientation leader issued the order without batting an eye. From his point of view, it was just a case of us kids acting on some adolescent sense of loyalty. We would never actually go through with it.

But in my previous life, Eira Yard really did run the entire distance for the whole class with ease. Then, she earned everyone’s admiration.

Meanwhile, I collapsed on the spot, leaving behind a reputation as delicate and frail. I even lost my life because of it.

Eira grabbed my arm. Her voice was full of concern. “Raine, don’t be impulsive! You’re already in poor health, and running 30 miles for the whole class is no small feat! Let me do it instead.”

Her voice was not loud, but it was just loud enough for the students around us to hear.

“What’s Raine playing at? Doesn’t she have low blood sugar? Is she just trying to steal the spotlight?”

“Exactly! If she can’t finish, the whole class will be punished again! She’s insisting on stepping up just to show off, isn’t she?”

I glared at her coldly and shook off her hand.

This time, I had to figure out exactly what was going on with Eira. I would take the lead and see if the fatigue system went both ways.

The orientation leader frowned as he sized me up, then glanced at Eira, who looked completely innocent. Finally, he waved his hand impatiently. “Stop dawdling! You two, run together! Neither of you gets a break until you finish!”

“Alright,” I said crisply.

A barely perceptible smirk curled at the corner of Eira’s mouth.

The starting gun fired, and Eira and I sprinted off together.

At first, I was able to keep going thanks to the sheer determination that came with experiencing this the second time.

But before I had even run 800 yards, that familiar, bone-deep exhaustion washed over me like a tidal wave.

My legs felt as if they were being pierced by countless needles. Every step felt as heavy as a boulder.

I turned to look. Eira was running right beside me and breathing steadily. Not a single bead of sweat was on her forehead. She even had the energy to flash me an encouraging smile.

I knew she was already transferring her fatigue to me.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to keep moving.

But a body’s limits could not be overcome with just willpower.

It felt as if an invisible giant was piling weights onto my back and crushing me. I could not breathe.

Finally, at around the 2-mile mark, my vision went dark. My legs gave out, and I crashed heavily onto the track.

The entire stadium erupted in an uproar.

I struggled to get up, but my limbs felt as if they had lost all strength.

Eira stopped in her tracks and leaned down to look at me. Her eyes were filled with undisguised contempt and smugness.

But in front of everyone, she remained the kind-hearted class belle.

“Raine, are you okay? I told you not to push yourself so hard!”

She easily ran the remaining miles and was greeted with cheers and praise from everyone at the finish line.

Meanwhile, I was carried away on a stretcher by the medical staff. Once again, I became the laughingstock of the entire school.

After being in the infirmary for half a day, I finally managed to regain a little strength.

The counselor came to check on me. They hinted between the lines that I should not be so competitive and that I needed to recognize the gap between myself and others.

As I listened, my heart grew numb.

After today’s incident, my image in the eyes of my classmates was set in stone. I would be seen as a frail, sickly clown who loved to show off.

Meanwhile, Eira was a radiant goddess.

When I returned to the dorm that evening, my roommates were cold toward me.

One of them, Bonnie Lewis, said sarcastically, “Raine, you really made our class look ‘outstanding’ today. Anyone who didn’t know better would think our class deliberately sent a sickly wimp to challenge Eira.”

I ignored her, climbed straight into bed, and pulled the curtain closed.

In the darkness, I calmly reflected on everything that had happened today.

In a head-on confrontation, I had no chance of winning.

Her ability was surreal. As long as I was near her, I would become her power bank. I had to change my approach.

I needed an ally. Someone with enough authority, and someone who was not easily fooled by Eira’s facade.

I thought of one person: our head orientation leader, Vermont Zimmer.