Sound Mind in a Sound Body (1)
I quickly scanned his build. Neck, shoulders, biceps and triceps, forearms, the core at the waist below that, thighs, calves… Even if you’d only been immersed in combat sports for about five years, a single glance was enough to tell whether your opponent had any real skill or not.
In that regard, Yamaguchi Ryuji sat at the high end for a civilian. Mid-to-low among athletes. Roughly the level of a high schooler who could throw a decent punch. The slight layer of fat on his knuckles suggested he didn’t have much actual fighting experience. Still, there was no reason to get tangled up with him right now.
My gaze dropped, and there it was—the massive mound. Since I hadn’t been gender-swapped or anything, this was simply pure body-fat from his weight class. Sure, I could win, but why bother? One of the first lessons I learned after debuting as a pro fighter was the simple truth that sometimes stepping back helped your life far more than charging forward.
“Senior, here it is. You should’ve just said something. I would’ve brought it over myself.”
Kenta scurried forward and handed the spicy yakisoba bread to Yamaguchi. The delinquent accepted it with a satisfied smirk.
“Ah~ This kid’s got sharp senses, I’ll give him that. That’s why I can’t bring myself to hate him.”
“Of course I should offer it to seniors as great as the sky! From now on, just tell me and I’ll bring everything!”
“Yeah, get going. And tell that pig over there to exercise. You’re starting to look sluggish too because of him.”
“Hahaha……”
Kenta, after getting his head patted like a dog and being released, trudged back over with slumped shoulders.
“Ah, shit… My yakisoba bread……”
“Just eat this one.” I handed him my own portion.
“What? That’s yours!”
“You bought it for me. I wasn’t planning to eat it anyway. If I want to lose weight, diet is essential.”
Spicy yakisoba bread. The taste did make me curious, but it was obviously a calorie bomb. My stomach was already starting to complain, yet enduring hunger was nothing new. It was routine for pros. In fact, it was welcome. If I had simply dropped into this body without preparation, that would be one thing, but at this weight I couldn’t afford to waste time on youth or romance. Better to shrink my stomach capacity now so the real diet later would be easier.
“Toya……!!!”
Kenta looked utterly moved. He jumped up and wrapped me in a crushing hug.
“Ah! You crazy bastard, get off!”
“When did you get this big? Huh? You weren’t this kind of character before! Shinohara must’ve finally done something!”
“But why are you acting so pathetic? Anyone watching would think you’re his personal gofer.”
“It’s Yamaguchi-senpai. What if I get on his bad side and life becomes hell? You saw him picking a fight with you earlier, right?”
“Is he really that strong?”
“Shh! Shh! What are you going to do if someone hears? Why is this guy acting so weird today?”
Yamaguchi Ryuji. The guy had surprisingly traditional roots—he’d been mentioned since the first volume of Welcome to the Academy City. He served as a quick example that the academy city wasn’t purely a romantic paradise of youth. That said, he wasn’t the irredeemable type who laid hands on the heroine. He existed to be sacrificed later, highlighting the combat power of the protagonist’s rival. A combat power measurer, nothing more. So I didn’t feel any particular need to be wary… but Kenta clearly saw things differently.
“I heard a rumor recently. The day before yesterday he fought some Kamamura High guys and turned three of them into bloody pulps.”
“Kamura High School, huh…”
The memory from that morning replayed instantly.
- Wh-what the hell is going on? Why are the Kamimura kids lying here?
Ah. So those were the Kamamura guys. Then the reason they picked a fight with us was because they lost to our school’s top dog and were taking out their frustration?
A snort escaped me. So it really was one of those romantic delinquent high-school stories? Something like “Round up the boys and focus on crushing Midorigaoka students from now on”?
When I let out a heavy breath, Kenta nodded vigorously and added, “Surprised? He really is a scary senior, Yamaguchi-senpai.”
Of course I was surprised. Not because he was scary, but because it slightly deviated from my expectations.
If he can win a three-on-one, he must have some talent. Is his sense better than his training level suggests?
Even amateur athletes usually struggle with three-on-one. Yet a regular high schooler had beaten three opponents of similar size at once? That meant he definitely had a gift for street fighting.
Ding-dong-dang-dong. Ding-dong-dang-dong—.
“Ah, it’s already time!”
The lunch-ending bell rang right on cue, so Kenta and I hurried back to the classroom.
The classes, of course, were unbearably boring.
Two hours later. On the road home.
“Toya, I’m heading to club activities.”
“Sure, Kenta. See you tomorrow.”
The club Sido Toya belonged to boasted a long history and venerable tradition.
The Going-Home Club.
Originally you had to join something, but because Sido Toya was the protagonist, he was in the Going-Home Club. You had to get home first before you could get dragged into extraordinary events outside school, after all.
Honestly, even if it wasn’t the default, I was planning to stay in the Going-Home Club anyway.
During class I’d checked what clubs were available, but nothing really sparked interest. Sports clubs could wait until after I lost some weight.
I was definitely interested in baseball. The team I used to cheer for back in my original world… Fuck off, Giants, unless you want to die. My father was from Busan, so I naturally became a fan, but like everyone else it turned into a love-hate relationship.
Anyway, aside from baseball, I had no interest in any clubs. After all, I was a twenty-eight-year-old Ma Jimin carrying the memories of sixteen-year-old Sido Toya. Playing make-believe with high school kids wasn’t exactly easy.
But why isn’t there a volunteer club? Isn’t the national rule for youth rom-coms that the protagonist joins the volunteer club?
With those trivial thoughts I reached home, changed clothes quickly, and headed straight out again.
The heroine’s true dream, fixing this twisted youth—whatever. First I had to do something about this garbage body.
Honestly, it wasn’t that difficult. Toya’s weight was ninety-eight kilograms. At this height, that was undeniable obesity. But it was fine. The Ma Jimin from my hero days had been worse.
One hundred and seventy centimeters and one hundred twelve kilograms. Only two centimeters taller, yet fourteen kilograms heavier. There was a reason he’d been mocked as a hopeless pig back in school. Even the coach had said it would take years just to lose the fat… But I had done it.
There happened to be a riverside park nearby. I didn’t have the money or stamina to join a gym yet, so the immediate priority was building enough basic fitness to handle proper training.
I bought a BCAA energy drink at the nearby convenience store, downed it in one go, and popped two glucose candies into my mouth. Other than breakfast, I was completely fasting. My stomach was screaming at the torture, but that was exactly why I had to push through.
“Does the protagonist’s body really have to be this trash-tier?”
I stretched thoroughly, loosening the stiff joints and muscles, then added extra warm-up for my ankles and waist. Judging by my current condition, three kilometers would be the perfect distance today—no more, no less.
“Let’s go.”
The body was trash, but the spirit belonged to Asia’s strongest man. The Sido Toya “Normie Life” Creation Project.
START!
“Shinohara, you’re heading straight home today?”
“…Yes. I’m sorry, Captain.”
“No, no, it’s fine. But what’s going on? Are you feeling unwell?”
“Yes… I feel a bit… drained.”
“Hmm, catching a cold would be bad. Physical conditioning is essential if we want to prepare for the upcoming friendly matches. Take care and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
Kamisaki First High Kendo Club’s dark horse. First-year Shinohara Misaki bowed deeply to the club captain, then fled the school as if escaping.
She had been like this since morning. The reason was obvious: the sudden change in her childhood friend Sido Toya’s attitude.
What on earth was wrong? He had seemed perfectly normal until yesterday. Had his parents in Tokyo said something? Even his speech patterns felt off, creating a strange sense of discomfort.
When she had rushed over after hearing what sounded like someone being hit, the Kamamura High students sprawled across the ground were one thing, but the aura of the person standing there had completely transformed.
It was more like how he used to be…
Her childhood friend Sido Toya had been the classic passive, herbivorous boy with zero assertiveness. But that hadn’t always been his personality. Back in elementary school when they were practically inseparable, Toya had been far more energetic than he was now.
- If Misaki is in danger, I’ll protect you. Don’t listen to the idiots who badmouth you.
- Apologize to Misaki! If you don’t, I won’t let it slide!!
The boy who stood alone against the kids who teased and tormented her. The boy who protected her even as bruises bloomed on his face and blood dripped from his mouth.
- To-Toya!! Why did you do that? I-I was really fine…
- If they’re insulting my precious friend, it’s the same as insulting me.
- Toya…
- Here, take my hand. I’ll walk you home.
That was when it started. The moment Shinohara Misaki began to carry Sido Toya inside her heart.
But the Toya she reunited with in the academy city was different in many ways from the boy she remembered. His personality had grown passive, his body had ballooned with fat, and he could barely make eye contact with others. For a while they couldn’t even hold a proper conversation. No matter how often she asked what had happened during those missing years, he never answered. In the end, all she could do was silently stay by his side, just as the old Toya had once done for her.
Yet today even that had been rejected. Why? Had she made some mistake without realizing it?
At that moment, Toya’s words stabbed into her mind like a wedge.
……
He wasn’t wrong. She had been neglecting club activities quite a bit lately. But still. It wasn’t something he should have said. And…
My real dream was—meeting you again, Toya.
All the way home, instead of clearing up, Misaki’s thoughts only grew more tangled. In the end, she headed to the nearby riverside park to clear her head. The cool breeze and beautiful scenery were perfect for sorting out her feelings.
She sat on a suitable bench and was staring blankly at the academy city center beyond the park when—
“Huh?”
Misaki spotted a familiar face. A boy wearing a Midorigaoka High gym uniform, panting heavily as he ran along the park track.
“To… Toya…???”
She wasn’t seeing things. It really was Toya. But what she found hardest to believe was the fact that he was exercising at all. This was the same Toya who had refused to come out even once when she invited him, claiming it was too much trouble. And now he was running like that, drenched in sweat?
That was when it happened. The staggering Toya suddenly collapsed onto the track.
“Kyaaak! Toya!!!”
Shinohara Misaki screamed and shot to her feet. Dehydration? Fainting? Whatever it was, she had to contact the Bureau of Health right away…!!!
“Eh?”
Even as she frantically searched for her phone, Misaki unconsciously let out a dumbfounded sound. Toya, who had flopped onto the ground, was staggering back to his feet and starting to run again.
……
Desperately fighting for balance, slapping his own cheeks to stay conscious, he kept running. The sight of him stubbornly digging through his pocket and shoving something into his mouth was so desperate, so raw, that Misaki found herself unable to speak.
A sight she had never seen before. The frantic struggle of a baby bird trying to break out of its shell. Just what had happened to make him push himself this far?
"Yes, this is the Kamisato Situation Center. How may I assist you?"
"Hello? Can you hear me? This is the Kamisato Situation Center. Do you require services from the Bureau of Health or Bureau of Guidance?"
Shinohara Misaki could only stand there in a daze, the voice on the other end of the line going unanswered.
Ah, fuck. Hypoglycemic blackout. Eat one more candy. That was close—I almost died.