In the end, Kishimoto polished off two bowls of rice with the cheonggukjang right where she sat, and even happily drank the toasted rice tea my mother brought to finish the meal.
"It's so nice to see a young lady eat so heartily."
"Hehe! Thank you!"
After downing the toasted rice tea in one go without leaving a single grain of rice behind, Kishimoto stood up and spoke to me.
"Alright, Kim, let's go."
"...Where?"
"You said you'd show me your room."
At that, my mother, who had been listening to our conversation from the side, covered her mouth with her hand and let out a gasp of admiration.
"Oh, my, my. Are you two already that close?"
"We are not."
I shut down my mother's attempt to pair us off and stood from my seat.
Kishimoto scrambled up to follow.
"Let's go."
"Okay! Goodbye!"
"Alright! Come back for a meal again soon!"
I hurriedly escaped the restaurant before my mother could embarrass us any further.
***
Our house was a remodeled old wooden mansion, with the first floor used as a restaurant and the second as our living space.
Going out the restaurant's side door and up the external steel staircase led to the entrance of the second-floor residence.
*Click-*
"Pardon the intrusion!"
With both my parents away from the house, Kishimoto's voice echoed through the empty space.
I took off my shoes at the entrance and headed straight for my room, located on the right side of the hallway.
Kishimoto, who followed me into the room, let out a stream of impressed gasps 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 did most of my workouts at the gym near my house, so the equipment here was just the bare essentials for a simple warm-up.
Because the room was small, I had gotten rid of my bed and put a set of dumbbells, a barbell, and an adjustable bench in its place.
She looked down curiously at an angular dumbbell standing on its end.
"This thing is 50kg? This dumbbell weighs more than I do."
"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 backed away, panting, and took her frustration out on me.
"Was this even made for people to lift?"
I immediately walked over and lifted the dumbbell with one hand in front of her.
Kishimoto stared back and forth between me and the dumbbell with a dumbfounded expression. 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!"
"With how much 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 just lift the empty bar, isn't that 0kg?"
I immediately corrected the common misconception among gym novices.
"The bench press starts at a base of 20kg. The empty bar itself is 20kg."
"Oh. Then I'll just do the empty bar."
I did as she asked, removing all the plates from the barbell and placing the empty bar on the rack.
"So, what's the proper form?"
I gave her a relatively simple explanation, since she was a beginner.
"Think of arching your back like a bow. You're making an arch with your spine."
"...Like this?"
Kishimoto seemed to be a quick learner, as she followed my instructions perfectly.
"Spread your arms wider than your shoulders, and think of extending them perpendicular to your chest. Right. Now take a deep breath, and lift!"
"Hup!"
"Now lower your arms, but don't force them down. Just bend them naturally as far as they'll go. Good, now tap your solar plexus once and return to the starting position."
"Nnngh!"
*Clang!*
"How was I?!"
After placing the 20kg bar back on the rack, Kishimoto 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 a compliment!"
Kishimoto Rika beamed, a silly grin on her face.
It wasn't a bad sight at all, and as the one who had diligently taught her, I felt a sense of satisfaction.
"Maybe we can add some weight..."
"Ah! I'm so tired from working out after so long! Let's take a break!"
Kishimoto quickly cut me off and sat down on the 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've got barley tea and orange juice in the fridge."
"Oh, I'll have the barley tea. With ice!"
Taking her order, I headed straight to the kitchen.
When I opened the fridge, I found a pitcher of chilled barley tea.
I poured two glasses, then dropped in some ice cubes from the freezer.
It looked pretty decent.
When I returned to the room with the glasses on a tray, Kishimoto was reading a manga she had taken from my bookshelf.
Thinking, *it was only a matter of time,* I set the tray down and said, "I'll have you know, I don't discriminate by genre."
Kishimoto, holding a volume of a love-comedy manga with a fair bit of fan service, gave me a cat-like smile and said, "For someone who says that, it looks like love comedies make up a big chunk of your collection."
"..."
It was all to prepare for the future.
The love-comedy genre was notoriously unpredictable, and I needed to build up enough knowledge to foresee 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 grin.
"You look so stoic on the outside, but you have a surprisingly dirty mind, don't you, Kim?"
I was speechless.
The love-comedy genre itself was, by nature, an amalgamation of a boy's hopes and dreams.
It wasn't uncommon for publishers to use mysterious beams of light to censor things in magazine serializations, only to release uncensored versions in the collected volumes.
"You wouldn't believe me if I said it was all a misunderstanding, would you?"
To my surprise, Kishimoto smiled brightly, nodded, and said, "No, I'll believe you. I know you're really just a fan of shonen manga."
She then shared something unexpected.
"Actually, I'm a huge manga fan, too. Especially shonen manga."
"Shonen manga?"
It was a plain hobby that didn't seem to fit a flashy gyaru like her.
"Ah, you're thinking it doesn't suit me, aren't you?"
"No."
"Liar! Your right eyebrow twitches when you lie, Kim."
Hearing that, I instinctively touched my eyebrow, 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 forgive you just this once. To be honest, my friends back home always said it was a total turn-off."
With a mischievous laugh, Kishimoto placed her hands on her knees and said, "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."
She trailed off, shrinking her neck as if embarrassed, then looked up at me with her green eyes.
"If it's okay with you, Kim, could we... could we keep being friends?"
For a moment, I didn't know how to react to her very cautious request for friendship.
If I said yes here, wouldn't I be twisting the original story?
The thought surfaced on its own.
*What should I do?*
I originally had no intention of getting involved in the plot of *Scramble Love*.
I believed it would destroy the peaceful school life I wanted.
But for that reason alone, was it right to crush the small bit of courage this girl in front of me had mustered?
To run away from a future that hadn't even happened yet, to not even try to face it...
As a man, wasn't that just too cowardly?
'...'
After much deliberation, I came to a decision.
"Kishimoto."
As I called her name in a low voice, her shoulders flinched as she waited anxiously for my answer.
*Clink.*
I picked up the glass of barley tea from the tray, held it out to her, and began.
"Normally, I don't 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."