Chapter 9 - The Lady Across the Street Is Surprisingly Strong
While going through my morning routine of running, I found myself thinking back on yesterday.
Last night, I mustered up the courage to send a message to Tsukishiro-san. — The moment I hit the send button, to be honest, I was torn up inside wondering if I’d made the right choice.
But when I saw her reply a little while later, I felt just a bit saved.
[…Yeah, me too. Even if it’s little by little, I want to talk again.]
Just that short sentence. But with those few words, I felt glad I’d sent the message.
She doesn’t hate me yet… or at least, she hasn’t outright rejected me… I think.
“Alright… No room for cowardice.”
I remembered what Dad said. “Just close the distance little by little.” That voice gave me a push, and my running pace naturally picked up.
After running about ten kilometers, drenched in sweat, I returned home.
Alright, next up is strength training. I headed into my home gym — affectionately known as the “Muscle Room” — and stood in front of the Smith machine.
I checked the workout menu posted on the wall.
“Today’s chest day.”
The mingling scent of iron and sweat — this is my battlefield.
“…Okay.”
I strapped on my power belt and rubbed chalk into both hands.
The Smith machine bar weighs 20 kilos, with two 20-kilo plates on each side — a total of 100 kilos.
The heaviest I’ve ever attempted.
“I’m definitely lifting this today…!”
I regulated my breathing and lay down on the bench. I squeezed my back and shoulder blades together, planting my feet firmly on the floor.
The moment I gripped the bar, tension wrapped around me. It felt like I was about to confess my feelings — my palms wouldn’t stop sweating.
I poured strength into both arms.
Click — the sound of the bar coming off the rack echoed through the silent room.
“…Hup!”
I took a deep breath and slowly lowered it to just above my chest. The plates groaned, and the overwhelming weight pressed down on my entire body. My sternum felt like it was about to cave in, and my vision wavered.
I kicked off the floor, channeling power into my abs and back, and exploded upward.
“Oooooooohhhhhh!!”
With a roar, the bar slowly but surely rose toward the ceiling. My arms burned like fire. My shoulders screamed. But still — just a few more centimeters!
“Guh… Go, goooo!!”
Clang — the moment I racked the bar, all strength drained from my body.
Panting heavily, I stared up at the ceiling.
“…Yesssssss!!”
I couldn’t help but shout.
My clenched fists trembled. I had definitely lifted 100 kilos all by myself.
“Whew… Now I just need breakfast, then school.”
Muttering that, I glanced out at the yard — and saw Dad tying a hose to a tree and blasting himself in the head with a pressure washer.
What the heck is he doing…? I rushed out to the yard.
“Gwoooohh! This is self-imposed waterfall training! A ritual to empty the self!”
“Wait, wait, what are you doing, Dad?!”
Bathed in the morning sunlight, Dad opened his eyes wide and shouted with divine fervor.
“Tsubasa. Every time you twist the faucet, the water meter spins, right? Bearing the weight of those numbers — that’s mental discipline!”
“How is that mental discipline?! You’re just scared of the water bill!”
“Don’t worry, Tsubasa! This month, the university judo club won the tournament, so I got a bonus! It’ll all go to the water bill though!”
“Don’t rely on your bonus for the water bill! No wasteful spending!”
I hurriedly turned the faucet off, stopping the water from the hose. Dad furrowed his brows and pursed his lips in dissatisfaction.
“I thought it’d be good training…”
“Are you serious?”
“I am! Life itself is training. Tsubasa, want to try it too?”
“No, I’m not doing that. Because—”
I pointed toward the other side of the yard.
“…Look, Dad! The lady across the street is holding up her phone!”
“What!?”
Dad turned around, and sure enough, the neighbor lady across the road was grinning while holding up her phone.
“She’s totally filming this! If it gets out, it’ll be a lifelong embarrassment!”
“Gwoooooohhh! Don’t film meeeeee!!!”
Dad rushed to the wall, but the lady turned on her heel and dashed into her house.
But just before the door closed, she peeked through the gap and flashed a peace sign with her phone raised.
“Nuooooohhh!? Is that a victory pose!? Damn it, she got me…!”
“She didn’t just get you — if that goes online, your life’s over…”
As Dad collapsed to his knees, soaking wet and defeated, I let out a deep sigh.
“…This isn’t training. It’s just public humiliation.”
I went into the living room, munched on broccoli and protein milk, and changed into my school uniform.
Just then, Dad came back in with a towel draped over his shoulders.
“Oh! Tsubasa! Your heart’s beating differently today. Did you get a good reply from Tsukishiro-san?”
“…How do you even know that?”
“The heart’s a muscle too!”
Dad laughed heartily. Half exasperated, I couldn’t help but let my lips curl slightly. Can Dad see through my skin or something? Actually, if he can tell that much through muscle, he’s basically not human anymore.
“Yeah. Well, I did get a good reply.”
“I see! Love and strength training both take time! Keep at it!”
“Well… I’ll try in my own way.”
With Dad’s encouragement at my back, I left the house. That said — what should I do? Is it really okay for me to just casually talk to her…?
While I was lost in thought about how to approach Tsukishiro-san, I found myself arriving at school in no time.