Chapter 7: A Friend
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 7: A Friend
In the end, Kishimoto polished off two bowls of rice with the cheonggukjang and even savored the scorched rice water my mother brought out to finish the meal.
"It's so nice to see a young lady eat with such a healthy appetite."
"Hehe! Thank you!"
After downing the scorched rice water without leaving a single grain of rice behind, Kishimoto got up from her seat and spoke to me.
"Alright, Kim-kun, let's go."
"...Where?"
"You said you'd show me your room."
My mother, who had been listening to our conversation from the side, covered her mouth with her hand and let out a gasp.
"Oh my, are you two already at that stage?"
"We're not."
I shot down my mother's attempt to pair me and Kishimoto together and got up from my seat.
Kishimoto scurried up after me.
"Let's go."
"Okay! Goodbye!"
"Alright! Come back for a meal anytime!"
I quickly escaped the restaurant before my mother could say anything more embarrassing.
*
Our house was an old wooden mansion that had been renovated. The first floor was the restaurant, and the second was our living space.
You had to go outside the restaurant and up a set of external steel stairs to reach the door to the second-floor living area.
Click-
"Pardon the intrusion!"
Both my parents were out, so Kishimoto's voice echoed through the empty house.
I took off my shoes at the entrance and went straight to my room, which was on the right side of the hallway.
Kishimoto, who followed me in, gasped in admiration as she took in the sight.
"Whoa! So this is a boy's room!"
She looked around curiously at the exercise equipment that filled the room.
I do most of my workouts at the gym nearby, so this was just a basic setup for simple warm-ups.
The room was small, so I'd gotten rid of my bed and put a dumbbell, a barbell, and an adjustable bench in its place.
She looked down curiously at an angular dumbbell standing on its end.
"This one is 50kg? This dumbbell is heavier than me."
"Want to try lifting it?"
Her curiosity piqued, Kishimoto said, "Should I?" and tried to lift the dumbbell with both hands.
"Nngh!"
But the dumbbell didn't even budge.
After straining until her face turned red, Kishimoto stepped back, panting, and took her frustration out on me.
"Was this even made for humans to lift?"
I immediately lifted the dumbbell in front of her with one hand.
Kishimoto stared back and forth between me and the dumbbell with a look of disbelief. Then, as if a competitive streak had been ignited, she sat on the empty bench.
"I want to try that bench press thing I've seen on TV!"
"At what weight?"
"Hmm? Since it's my first time, maybe 10kg?"
Hearing that, I crossed my arms and shook my head.
"Sorry, but there's no such thing as a 10kg bench press."
Kishimoto tilted her head.
"Huh? But if I'm just lifting the empty bar, isn't that 0kg?"
I immediately corrected the common misconception beginners have.
"The bench press starts at a base of 20kg. The empty bar itself is 20kg."
"Oh. Then I'll just do the empty bar."
As she requested, I removed all the plates from the barbell, leaving only the empty bar on the rack.
"How do I do the form?"
I gave her a relatively simple explanation for a beginner.
"Think of arching your back like a bow. Create an arch with your back."
"...Like this?"
Kishimoto seemed to be a quick learner, following my instructions perfectly.
"Spread your arms wider than your shoulders and think about extending them perpendicular to your chest. Right. Now take a deep breath, and lift!"
"Hup!"
"Now lower your arms, but don't force them. Just bend them as far as they'll go naturally. Good, tap your solar plexus, then return to the starting position."
"Nngh!"
Clang!
"How was I?!"
Kishimoto, having placed the 20kg bar back on the rack, looked at me with a proud expression.
She looked like a puppy begging for praise, so I nodded and gave her a thumbs-up.
"You did great for your first time."
"Yes! I got praised!"
Kishimoto Rika beamed, giggling.
It wasn't a bad sight at all, and as the one who taught her, I felt a sense of satisfaction.
"Maybe we can add some weight..."
"Ah! I'm tired from working out after so long! Let's take a break!"
Kishimoto quickly cut me off and sat down on a chair that happened to be next to my desk.
Slightly disappointed, I asked her as she fanned herself with her hand.
"Want something to drink? I think we have barley tea and orange juice in the fridge."
"Oh, I'll have the barley tea then. With ice!"
Taking her order, I headed straight for the kitchen.
When I opened the fridge, there was a pitcher of chilled barley tea.
I poured two glasses of barley tea and plopped some ice cubes from the freezer into them.
They looked pretty decent.
When I returned to the room with the glasses on a tray, Kishimoto was reading a manga she'd pulled from my bookshelf.
Thinking, 'So it's finally come to this,' I set down the tray and spoke.
"I'll have you know, I don't discriminate by genre."
Kishimoto, holding a volume of a romantic comedy manga with quite a few revealing scenes of the heroines, gave me a cat-like smile.
"For someone who says that, your bookshelf seems to have a pretty high percentage of romantic comedies, don't you think?"
"..."
It was all to prepare for the future.
The rom-com genre is notoriously unpredictable, so I had to build up enough knowledge to predict future developments.
But Kishimoto, unaware of my circumstances, showed me a fan-service scene from the manga and teased me with a sly, cat-like smile.
"You seem so stoic on the outside, but you're secretly a pervert, aren't you, Kim-kun?"
I had no excuse, even if I had ten mouths.
That's because the rom-com genre is, by nature, a collection of a boy's hopes and dreams.
It's a common marketing tactic to cover things up with a mysterious light in the magazine serialization, only to release an uncensored version in the collected volume.
"You wouldn't believe me if I said it was all a misunderstanding, would you?"
Kishimoto smiled brightly, then nodded and said.
"No, I'll believe you. I know you just like shonen manga."
With that, she revealed something unexpected.
"Actually, I love manga too. Especially shonen manga."
"Shonen manga?"
It was a simple hobby that didn't seem to fit a flashy gyaru like her.
"Ah, you just thought it doesn't suit me, didn't you?"
"No."
"Liar! Your right eyebrow twitches when you lie, Kim-kun."
Hearing that, I instinctively touched my eye, only to realize I'd fallen for her trick.
In the end, I had no choice but to admit the truth.
"...You're right."
"Hmph, I'll let it slide this time. To be honest, my friends back home had the same reaction, saying it totally killed the vibe."
As she spoke, she giggled, then folded her hands on her lap.
"Did I ever tell you what my dad does for a living?"
I shook my head.
Come to think of it, I had told her all sorts of trivial things about myself, but I had never heard about her family.
Kishimoto paused for a beat before opening her mouth.
"Actually, my dad's a manga artist. A pretty successful one, too."
If that was the case, I could understand why Kishimoto liked shonen manga.
If her father was a manga artist, she would have naturally grown up reading manga from a very young age.
"It's a pretty unusual hobby for a high school girl these days, right? I didn't really have anyone to talk to about it, so I just enjoyed it by myself. But it seems like you like Jump too, Kim-kun."
After saying that much, she ducked her head shyly, then looked up at me with her green eyes.
"If it's okay with you, Kim-kun... would you, um, continue to be my friend?"
For a moment, I didn't know how to respond to her very cautious request to be friends.
If I say yes here, won't that twist the original story?
The thought popped into my head unbidden.
'What should I do?'
I originally never wanted to get involved in the plot of Scramble Love.
I thought it would ruin my peaceful school life.
But for that reason alone, is it right to crush the small bit of courage this girl in front of me has mustered?
To run away simply because I'm afraid of a future that hasn't even happened, without even trying to fight...
Isn't that too cowardly for a man?
'...'
After much deliberation, I made my decision.
"Kishimoto."
When I called her name in a low voice, her shoulders flinched. She had been waiting for my answer with an anxious expression.
Clink-
I picked up one of the glasses of barley tea from the tray, held it out to her, and began to speak.
"I don't usually bring people who aren't my friends home."
She carefully took the glass from me with both hands.
I looked her straight in the eyes and said.
"You were my friend from the start."
Only then did the tension finally leave Kishimoto's face, and she smiled as brightly as a sunflower.
"Thank you."