Kishimoto Rika demolished two bowls of rice with cheonggukjang like a champ, then chugged the sungnyung Mom brought for dessert.
"Young lady, you eat so heartily, it's a joy to watch," Mom said, beaming.
"Hehe! Thanks!" Rika grinned, not leaving a single grain of rice. She downed the sungnyung in one go, then stood up and turned to me. "Alright, Kim-kun, let's go."
"Go where?" I asked, suspicious.
"You said you'd show me your room," she replied, like it was obvious.
Mom, eavesdropping, gasped and covered her mouth. "Oh my, are you two that close already?"
"No," I said, slicing through her matchmaking dreams like a samurai.
I stood up, and Rika hopped up after me, all bouncy. "Let's go!"
"Bye, ma'am!" she chirped to Mom.
"Come back for more food anytime!" Mom called.
I hustled Rika out before Mom could get any weirder.
Our house is an old wooden mansion, remodeled so the first floor's the restaurant, Mikoya, and the second's our living space.
We exited the restaurant and climbed the outdoor metal stairs to the second-floor entrance.
Clunk.
"Pardon the intrusion!" Rika's voice echoed in the empty house, since both my parents were out.
I kicked off my shoes at the entrance and headed right to my room down the hall.
Rika trailed behind, stepping in and gasping at the sight. "Wow! So this is a guy's room!"
She gawked at the exercise equipment filling the space, eyes wide with curiosity.
I mostly train at the gym, so my room just has the basics for warm-ups: a dumbbell, a barbell, and an adjustable bench where a bed would be.
Rika stared at a square dumbbell propped upright. "This thing's 50 kilos? It's heavier than me!"
"Wanna try lifting it?" I teased.
"Sure!" she said, grabbing it with both hands and pulling. "Nngh!"
The dumbbell didn't budge.
Her face turned red from effort. Panting, she stepped back and glared at me. "Is this even meant for humans?"
I casually lifted it with one hand.
Rika's jaw dropped, ping-ponging between me and the dumbbell. Stubborn, she plopped onto the bench. "I wanna try that bench press thing I saw on TV!"
"How much weight?" I asked.
"Uh, it's my first time, so… 10 kilos?"
I crossed my arms, shaking my head. "Sorry, bench press doesn't go that low."
She tilted her head. "Huh? But isn't an empty bar zero kilos?"
"Nope. The bar alone's 20 kilos," I corrected, the classic newbie mistake.
"Oh! Then just the bar," she said.
I stripped the barbell of plates, leaving the empty 20-kilo bar.
"How do I do it?" she asked.
"Think of arching your back like a bow. Make your spine a curve," I explained.
"Like this?" Rika mimicked me perfectly, quick on the uptake.
"Arms out past your shoulders, perpendicular to your chest. Good. Now take a deep breath, and lift!"
"Hup!"
"Lower it naturally, don't force it. Just to where it feels right. Tap your chest, then back up."
"Nngh!"
Clang!
She set the bar back, looking smug. "How was that?!"
Like a puppy begging for praise, she stared at me. I nodded, giving a thumbs-up. "Not bad for a first try."
"Yes! Praise achieved!" Rika beamed, practically bouncing.
Her enthusiasm was kinda cute. Teaching her felt rewarding.
"Maybe add some weight—" I started.
"Nope! I'm wiped!" she cut in, flopping onto a chair by my desk, fanning herself. "Let's take a break."
Slightly disappointed, I asked, "Want something to drink? Got barley tea or orange juice in the fridge."
"Barley tea, with ice!" she chirped.
I headed to the kitchen, grabbed a jug of chilled barley tea, and dropped ice into two glasses.
Looked pretty legit, if I say so myself.
Back in my room, I found Rika flipping through a manga from my bookshelf.
Here it comes, I thought, setting the tray down. "Just so you know, I'm not picky about genres."
She held a rom-com manga with slightly risqué heroine scenes, smirking like a cat. "For someone who's not picky, your shelf's got a lot of rom-coms."
"…"
It's all research to predict Scramble Love's plot! Rom-coms are unpredictable, so I need to study the tropes.
But Rika, oblivious to my noble cause, waved a fanservice page at me. "You seem so stoic, but you're secretly a perv, huh?"
I had no comeback. Rom-coms are basically a teenage boy's hopes and dreams in manga form.
Censored sparkles in the magazine, uncensored in the volumes—it's just business.
"If I said it's a misunderstanding, would you believe me?" I tried.
She grinned wide. "Nah, I believe you. I know you're just a shonen manga nerd at heart."
Then she dropped a bombshell. "I'm a huge manga fan too. Especially shonen."
"You? Shonen manga?" I asked, surprised. Her gyaru vibe screamed anything but.
"You thought it doesn't suit me, didn't you?" she teased.
"No," I lied.
"Liar! Your right eyebrow twitches when you lie!"
I touched my face, caught. She got me.
"Fine, you're right," I admitted.
"Ha! I'll let it slide," she said, laughing. "Back in Shizuoka, my friends thought it was weird too."
She clasped her hands on her knees. "Did I tell you about my dad?"
I shook my head. I'd spilled my life story to her, but she'd never shared much about her family.
"My dad's a manga artist," she said after a pause. "A pretty successful one."
That explained it. Growing up with a manga artist dad, she probably read shonen from diapers.
"For a high school girl, that's a rare hobby," she continued. "I never had anyone to talk to about it. But since you're a Jump fan…"
She shrank a bit, looking up at me with shy green eyes. "If it's okay with you, could we… keep being friends?"
Her cautious friend request threw me. What do I even say?
If I say yes, won't that mess up Scramble Love's plot?
I didn't want to meddle with the original story. It's my ticket to a peaceful school life.
But could I really crush this girl's small act of courage just to stay safe?
Running from a future that hasn't happened yet—hiding instead of facing it—wouldn't that be too cowardly for a guy like me?
"…"
After wrestling with it, I made my choice.
"Kishimoto," I said, voice low.
She flinched, waiting for my answer, her shoulders tense.
Clink.
I handed her a glass of iced barley tea. "You don't usually bring non-friends home."
Looking her straight in the eyes, I said, "You've been my friend from the start."
Her face lit up like a sunflower. "Thanks," she said softly.