The evening air hits them like a release, but the tension clings stubbornly as Kaede hustles her group down the street. None of her coworkers speak at first; the shuffle of their footsteps fills the silence.
Finally, Yuta mutters, voice low and guilty. "Sorry... I shouldn’t have asked about Ryoma’s next opponent. It... it all started right after that..."
Aemi shakes her head quickly, still wide-eyed. "No, it’s not your fault. I’m just... shocked. I an, we were really sitting in the sa place as Ryoma’s opponent? His next fight? I didn’t even realize until it blew up..."
Maho throws in her own disbelief, hugging her bag tight against her chest. "And guess what. He was Kaede’s classmate? They all went to the sa high school?"
The three of them stop in unison, curiosity snapping into focus. Only now do they realize, that Kaede and Ryoma should have recognized Kanzaki much earlier.
Slowly, almost in sync, they turn back, eyes flicking between Kaede and Ryoma, who are trailing a few steps behind.
Both Kaede and Ryoma jolt under the sudden attention. Kaede sees the aning in their faces instantly, the suspicion, the intrigue, the silent explain yourself.
Her cheeks puff in irritation as she folds her arms. "Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare bring that up again."
The three exchange glances, curiosity burning hotter, but Kaede’s glare is enough to push them back into motion. They resu walking, whispers stifled, though the questions still hang heavy in the air.
Kaede crosses her arms, lips pressed tight as if to hold it in, but she can’t. As they begin to walk again, her words tumble out in mutters, sharp with disappointnt.
"I really thought you’d grown up a little... that maybe you were becoming more mature. But no. You’re still the sa kid I knew back then. The one who always chased trouble just to get noticed. Always an attention seeker."
Ryoma keeps quiet, enduring it with clenched teeth. He knows she isn’t entirely wrong, he was being childish back there. And he was really like that back in high school.
But he’s not the sa Ryoma. He’s soone who’s gone through a bitter life with so much failure and endured so much mockeries.
What he did to Kanzaki wasn’t without reason. His antics weren’t for laughs; they were deliberate, a psychological jab, a mind ga before the real fight.
He want to explain, but feels it’s useless. He knows Kaede so well. At most, it will only sound like a child excuse to her.
But then, Kaede’s voice cuts again, harsher this ti. "When will you stop humiliating yourself? And the people around you? You’re not a kid anymore, Ryoma."
Well, that one finally grates sothing in him, his pride. He halts in his tracks, eyes narrowing.
"Excuse ...?" He begins to show an interest in arguing back. "You have no idea what they did to my gym. They ca to us, faking their interest in joining, giving Coach Nakahara false hope, and..." He stumbles, frustration spilling. "...and they..."
Kaede spins on him, eyes flashing. "And so what? He’s your next opponent. Of course they’d go that far. It’s dirty, it’s annoying, but that doesn’t an you should act like a fool in public."
"Damn it..." Ryoma exhales, shoulders tense, voice low. "There’s no way you’d understand how deep this goes. You don’t see what happens in the gym. You don’t see what Coach Nakahara’s been carrying. You don’t see my struggle, and yet you talk like you know everything I’ve gone through."
Unfortunately, his words hit harder than he ans. He’s thinking about the gym, about the weight on Nakahara’s shoulders, and everything he endured with Nakahara in his previous life. But Kaede hears sothing else.
Her eyes burn red, not just with anger, but with hurt. Ryoma actually notices it, but too late. Her hand flashes before he can react.
Slap!
Ryoma’s head snaps to the side, his cheek stinging as he stares at her, stunned.
Kaede’s voice cracks, heavy with betrayal. "After all we’ve been through? After both of us lost people we loved? I thought we were helping each other carry that pain. And now you tell I don’t know what you’ve gone through?"
"Kaede... wait... That’s not what I ant. I was just..."
But she doesn’t let him finish. She turns and storms off, half-running, her figure swallowed by the evening crowd.
Her coworkers freeze, caught in the fallout. Yuta and Maho exchange wide-eyed looks before rushing after Kaede.
Only Aemi lingers. She glances at Ryoma, her voice soft, almost regretful. "She’s been blaming herself, you know... thinking the distance between you two was her fault. That maybe she couldn’t adjust to dating soone younger, or that she wasn’t giving enough. She really wanted tonight to fix things. To break the silence."
Her words linger, sharp in their honesty. She takes a small step back, but before leaving, adds quietly, "But I don’t want to judge you. I can see you’ve both been through a lot... and maybe part of this is just misunderstandings stacking up."
Ryoma exhales, nodding, then starts forward, intent on chasing after Kaede. But Aemi presses a hand lightly against his chest, stopping him.
"What? Shouldn’t I apologize now?" he asks, brow furrowing.
Aemi shakes her head gently. "Not now. I’ll tell her you want to. But she won’t listen in this state. Give her space."
"But I..."
"You know won, Ryoma? If you push, they only run further. Sotis... taking a step back is the only way to let them co to you."
Those last words strike him in a way nothing else ever has. Even after everything he’d lived through in his previous life, he had never heard them before.
Maybe it’s sothing only a woman could say. After seeing the honesty in her eyes and the quiet wisdom in her tone, Ryoma finally gives in.
He gives a small nod. Aemi turns on her heel and jogs off in light steps, eager not to fall behind her friends.
***
Evening settles heavy over the city by the ti Ryoma makes his way back. The chatter of the group still clings to him, but he walks past it all until the glow of his mother’s barber shop cos into view.
The bell above the door jingles as he steps inside. Warm light, the faint sting of shaving cream in the air. His mother is still with a custor, scissors clicking in her hand. Ryoma doesn’t speak. He drops onto the bench by the wall, shoulders low, head bowed.
Fumiko ets his eyes briefly in the mirror but says nothing, only that small, knowing smile. The sound of snipping fills the silence until the custor pays and leaves.
Now it’s just the two of them. Fumiko sweeps the chair clean, turns, and looks at her son’s reflection.
"Did sothing happen on your Saturday night date?"
"It’s not a date," Ryoma mutters, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. "Just a group thing."
"But you saw Kaede." Her tone is gentle, probing. "And from the look on your face, sothing happened."
Ryoma doesn’t answer. Fumiko bends down, sweeping the cut hair into a neat pile, letting the silence stretch.
Finally, Ryoma speaks. His voice is quiet and uncertain. "Ne, Mom... do you still miss Dad?"
Fumiko pauses, resting her hand on the broom handle. A soft smile tugs at her lips.
"I’ve never gone a day without thinking of him."
"Kaede..." Ryoma’s voice falters. "She lost everything. Not just her dad, but her whole family. And I told her she couldn’t understand what I’d been through."
He lowers his eyes, the weight of his own words sinking in.
"Isn’t it ironic?"
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