The S-Class Mage is a Gyaru!?-Chapter 34: Arcane Symposium, Part Fourteen

Chapter 34: Arcane Symposium, Part Fourteen
{Reina}
After Lily’s performance, everyone’s looking at each other like scared little kittens. Not that I can blame them. 8000 points is intimidating as fuck.
[At least I’m not the only one who wants to crawl into a hole and die.]
My tail curls anxiously around my leg as I watch Takeshi finally raise his hand. His uniform strains against those muscles as he steps forward, and, I mean, normally I’d appreciate the view, but right now all I can think about is how I’m so not ready for this.
[Fuck you, Dad. This is all your fault.]
He basically threw me to the wolves, just so I don’t break the tradition of Miyamoto’s participating in this. I hate it.
Takeshi takes his position, and holy shit, his magic is as massive as his biceps. Raw force pours from his hands in waves, making the barriers shimmer like they’re actually having to work for once.
[Great. Another reminder of how screwed I am.]
My claws dig into my palms as I watch his platform rise. I didn’t train for this. Obviously, I always intended to do well here in Crescent Moon, but participating in the Symposium was just not something I was ready for.
[Speaking of Jun...]
[Jun💜]: good luck babe
[Jun💜]: if you’re still doing that magic thing
I don’t even bother responding. My ears flatten against my head as Takeshi finishes his run.
7500 points. Not as high as Lily, but still way more than I feel I could manage.
"Scared, princess?"
That voice sends shivers down my spine. Akari appears next to me, her perfume pretty much smacking me in the face.
"What do you want?"
"Just checking on my favorite goth girl." She grins. "You look like you’re about to bolt."
"I’m fine," I lie, probably not very convincingly given how tightly my tail’s wrapped around my right leg.
She takes a moment.
Then, she smiles.
"Just do your best, babe. That’s all anyone can ask of you."
"Easy for you to say, S-Class," I mutter. That said, my tail slowly unwraps from my leg as I take a few deep breaths.
The Shimizu Twins are up next and - wait, are they allowed to go together? Isn’t this cheating?
Sure enough, though, I why they’re allowed to do this. It looks like they’re sharing the same mana pool.
7000.
Lower than Takeshi, but still high.
As I watch him walk away, my resolve grows.
Well, might as well get this over with.
My hand shoots up before I can talk myself out of it.
Zhang nods, and suddenly my legs are moving on their own, carrying me toward what’s probably going to be the most public humiliation of my life.
[Just do your best. Whatever happens, happens.]
The platform feels solid under my Demonias, but my tail’s betraying my nerves, whipping back and forth like it’s trying to fan away my anxiety. I can hear whispers from the crowd, probably wondering if the Miyamoto heiress is actually going to do something impressive.
Even from up here, I can spot my father’s "representative" in the crowd. Some stuck-up suit who’ll every detail back to dear old Dad.
[Fuck them. Fuck Dad. Fuck everything.]
I glance at the other competitors. Lily’s still being tended to by her minions, looking like she just ran a marathon in heels. Takeshi’s massive frame is hunched over, probably still recovering. The twins are leaning on each other, sharing their exhaustion like they share everything else.
[Great. Really inspiring.]
"Begin!"
I raise my hands, channeling mana. Second Circle magic flows from my fingers. Yeah, the same spell everyone else used because I’m apparently as basic as my boyfriend.
The strain hits immediately. It’s like trying to bench press a truck while running a marathon in these platforms. My arms are already shaking, and I’ve barely started.
[Come on, Reina. Don’t embarrass yourself.]
The crowd’s murmurs grow louder as my platform starts to rise. Every inch feels like a victory and a curse.
Already, sweat drips down my back, probably ruining my carefully applied foundation.
I can almost hear Dad’s voice: "A Miyamoto never shows weakness." Easy for him to say when he’s not the one having to prove himself in front of hundreds of people.
[Like you even care what I do here...]
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I nearly stop my spell because of the sudden distraction. It was probably Jun with another "encouraging" message that completely misses the point. But I can’t focus on that now.
Can’t focus on anything except keeping this spell going.
More whispers reach my ears:
"Is she actually doing it?"
"Look at that form..."
"The cat girl’s got claws..."
"Didn’t expect this from a Miyamoto..."
[Shut up shut up shut UP!]
The magic burns through my reserves like cheap vodka running down my throat. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision, but I push harder.
I’m not stopping.
Not yet.
[Come on, bitch,] I tell myself. [Dad will eat you alive if you don’t give it everything you’ve got. Keep going!]
Someone gasps. I think I hear Akari’s voice saying something, but everything’s starting to sound like it’s underwater. The barriers in front of me shimmer and blur together.
[Just... a little... longer...]
My arms feel like they’re made of lead, but I keep them up.
Keep channeling. Keep pushing.
The platform’s still rising, even though I can barely feel it anymore.
And then... It stops.
The last of my mana drains away like someone pulled a plug, and suddenly the ground’s rushing up to meet me. My knees hit first, then my hands, and I’m pretty sure I just flashed half the audience but I literally cannot care right now.
Through the ringing in my ears, I hear Zhang’s voice:
"8... 8100!"
The world’s still spinning as hands help me up. I catch a glimpse of pink eyes and blonde hair before my vision goes dark. There’s a faint smell of expensive perfume that makes my tail twitch.
[Well... at least I didn’t completely fuck up...]
As consciousness fades, I have one last thought:
[Dad can shove his "tradition" up his ass.]
...
My eyes flutter open to the sight of pink and blonde.
[Great. Just what I needed.]
"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," Akari grins down at me. She’s got one hand on my shoulder, probably to keep me from face-planting again. Haruka’s next to her, looking concerned.
"How long was I..."
"Like a whole minute" Haruka answers. "But holy shit girl, that was intense!"
I try to sit up, my tail curling around my waist for balance. Everything hurts like I just went three rounds with a hangover.
[At least I didn’t completely embarrass myself.]
"Here." Akari hands me a water bottle, and I definitely don’t notice how her fingers brush against mine. "Drink up, princess. You earned it."
Before I can tell her where to shove her princess comments, movement catches my eye.
Miyuki’s taking the platform, looking like she just stepped out of a uniform catalog despite the heat.
"This should be good," Haruka mutters. "Little Miss Perfect’s gonna show us how it’s done."
"Nah, she’s not gonna do shit."
"You know she won the last Symposium, right?" Haruka asks Akari.
"Probably cause of biased judges. She ain’t gonna do shit~"
I wipe sweat from my forehead with my sleeve - fuck my makeup at this point - and watch as Zhang gives the signal.
The magic that erupts from Miyuki’s hands makes my jaw drop.
[What the actual fuck.]
It’s the same Second Circle spell we all used, but there’s nothing basic about her execution.
The mana flows from her like she’s conducting an orchestra, each wave perfectly controlled.
"Holy shit," Akari whispers, her smugness having disappeared entirely and, for once, I agree with her.
Miyuki’s platform rises steadily, surpassing the height markers one by one. Her form is textbook perfect, like she’s trying to get extra credit in a practical exam.
[Show off.]
But I can’t even be properly bitter because it’s just so damn impressive. She’s not even sweating as her spell continues, her face a mask of concentration that somehow still looks camera-ready.
When she finally stops, even though she’s sweating, she just calmly collects herself and walks off the stage.
And...
"Nine thousand points!" Zhang announces, sounding actually shocked.
[You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.]
"Highest score of the decade," someone in the crowd adds helpfully, like we needed that extra twist of the knife.
Miyuki descends from her platform with the grace of someone who just finished a light workout.
As she passes us, she doesn’t even look our way.
But I swear I catch her smirking.
[Well... fuck.]