Joji jolted awake, breath catching in his throat. The remnants of a dream—hazy but suffocating—clung to the edges of his mind like a fog that refused to lift. He couldn't remember the details, but the feeling lingered, heavy and unsettling.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and trudged to the sink. Cold water splashed across his face, snapping him back to the present. After a few push-ups and squats to force his body into rhythm, he made himself a quick breakfast. His uncle was still asleep, as usual. Joji didn't mind. His Uncle is just spending the most of the vacation given to him.
He ate in silence, mechanically chewing through his bland meal, scrambled egg with rice and some ketchup to give it some flavor, then turned on his console. Fast-paced fights filled the screen as his fingers danced over the controller.
"My rank has dropped down a lot after i got into boxing" he sighed but he is quite of impressed to himself that he managed to take some time off the controller.
The mandatory alarm went off telling him that he needs to get back to the gym, but Joji is not feeling like it. He just had a bad dream and felt like he needs to take some time off after going on a trip to the beach.
He leaned back to his gaming chair, looking at the ceiling contemplating if he's going to the gym or not and then.
*Ding!* A notification came up to his phone, it was Mina.
Mina: [Morning Joji! The beach trip was so fun, still didn't expect you to be there]
Mina: *Sends a bunch of pictures of them from the beach*
Joji: [What the? Where did those pictures came from?]
Mina: [My teammate actually owns a camera and took these photos of us from the beach! Look she even took close up pictures of you!😜]
Mina: *Sends pictures of Joji when he was playing as the ref but in horrible angles*
Joji: [Damn! I look ugly in those]
Mina: [You think so? I actually think it's quite cute☺️]
Mina: [especially this one] *sends a picture of Joji brushing his hair back after he got out of the ocean showing his slightly toned up body*
He didn't reply to the message but he saves the photo. Amazed that he actually has a side where his face doesn't look half bad, and proud that his training is actually slowly showing improvements. He turned it into his profile picture.
The sounds of the fan and light from the light bulb turns off, he closed his room and finally decides to go to the gym
The clang of weights and the scent of sweat welcomed Joji like an old friend. But there was something different in his movements today. He wasn't just lifting—he's oushing through his limits. Determined.
It didn't take long for Rukio to notice.
"Yo," Rukio said as Joji racked the barbell with a strained grunt. "What's with the sudden obsession with numbers? You trying to break yourself before your prime?"
Joji wiped sweat from his brow, exhaling. "Osaka tournament. I'm signing up."
Rukio blinked. "You serious?"
Joji nodded. "Yeah."
The older teen crossed his arms, expression shifting from surprised to skeptical. "You've had what—three spars? And those were just to see if you even liked boxing. Joji… that tournament's full of monsters. Even the amateurs will eat you alive."
"I'm not backing out."
Rukio sighed. "Alright then. Let's see if you're even halfway ready."
He turned toward Coach Haruto, who'd been eyeing them both from across the gym.
"Coach. Mind if I take him for a round?"
Haruto gave them a long look, then nodded slowly. "Keep it clean."
They stepped into the ring. Joji's heartbeat slowed—not from nerves, but from focus. Rukio's presence was heavier than usual. He wasn't here to go easy on him.
First exchange: a simple 1-1-2 from Rukio.
Joji slipped left, weaving under the right. Clean dodge.
Rukio raised a brow. "Okay."
He stepped it up—feints, speed changes, trick angles. Joji held his own for a while, evading more than expected. His body still lagged behind at times, but his eyes—they were reading.
Then came a sharp inside hook disguised behind a right feint. Joji stepped wrong. He didn't get hit, but lost balance and fell back onto the mat.
"Time," Coach called.
Rukio offered Joji a hand. "You didn't even flinch when I threw that hook. You knew it was coming."
Joji pulled himself up. "I just guessed."
"Guessed?"
Joji nodded. "I play a lot of fighting games. Tekken, Street Fighter. You learn to read patterns, predict combos. I used to be ranked high globally... not anymore, but still top in Japan. It's kind of the same here."
Rukio looked at Coach, then back at Joji. "He's not reacting—he's calculating."
Coach crossed his arms, thoughtful. "This could be something."
Rukio nodded to Joji. "Alright. You've got the mind for it. Now you just need the body. Your eyes are faster than your feet. And your punches? No threat yet."
Joji grinned. "On it."
The rest of vacation blurred into a blur of sweat, sore muscles, and progress.
Joji abandoned ego-lifting. Focused on power, explosiveness, reflex. Every day counted. The urge of eating sweets became his main problem, he could get away with some chocolate milk or just small chocolate bars but Joji feared that once he starts eating it he may not stop.
By the time the second trimester rolled around, he had a new routine. School. Gym. Study. Sleep. Repeat.
Except now, there was something new woven into his days—Mina.
They started walking home together again just like the past few months. At first, it was quiet and awkward as usual. But slowly, the silence softened into conversation, and the space between them felt less like a wall and more like something growing.
But peace never lasted long.
Lunchtime.
Joji sat alone in his classroom, chewing through yet another high-protein, flavorless meal. Boiled chicken again. He hated it. But he'd hate losing more.
His mind wandered.
"Joji?" Mina's voice called softly from the door.
He didn't hear it. Still chewing.
"Joji!"
He looked up, blinking.
Before he could answer, a silver-haired punk leaned against the doorway with a smug grin. "Yo, Mina. Looks like this guy is not interested, why don't i join you instead?"
Mina rolled her eyes. "Tetsuya. Leave me alone."
"Aw, come on. Don't be shy."
Joji spoke up, finally. "She can eat with me."
Mina didn't even glance back. She brushed past Tetsuya and sat beside Joji, unpacking her lunch.
Joji leaned over. "Friend of yours?"
"Senro Tetsuya. We've been classmates since forever. He's not a friend—just a wannabe ladies' man that tries to look like a punk, trust me he's not."
Joji chuckled. "Right."
After class, Joji headed toward the gym—but he didn't get far.
Senro intercepted him, stepping into his path with a calm but serious look.
Joji clenched his jaw. He was ready. Maybe the guy wanted to start something.
Senro stepped closer. "You're the guy who got close to Mina, right?"
Joji's hands flexed slightly, his guard mentally rising.
But then—Senro dropped it.
Literally.
He clasped his hands together and bowed slightly.
"Teach me your ways, Master."
Joji stared at him, completely frozen. "…What?"
---
End of Chapter 11