[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/eXrBL7S.png[/img] [hr][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][sub][b]Nashiro City [/b]--[b] Hyakusawa Academy, First Floor[/b] [color=gray]April 19th, 2019 | 3:35PM[/color][/sub][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][hr][/center] Kazuki jumped when someone suddenly began shouting in the hallways. Whipping around, he looked frantically for the source of the aural explosion, but all he saw around him were two older students chatting about older student things. The windows then? Or maybe from another classroom? It was all very perplexing, and after wasting a good thirty seconds wondering if he was going to get inducted into some delinquent gang, the brunette decided that he was safe, and bolted off once more. Warm up, work out, grab the handouts from the teachers’ office, get those discount groceries, and then off to Fumio’s. Easy peasy. … In another five minutes, Kazuki was amongst his lift buddies, the second and third year students that had muscles akin to a half-giant. With the mechanical certainty of hydraulic presses, they pushed and pulled and flexed and groaned, taking shots of ginseng protein shakes as the clanging of weights rang clearly throughout. The Bodily Health Maintenance Club was as aggressively positive as always, and their president was flexing at the mirror once more, isometric exercises boosting his self-esteem greatly. Impressive as always, Kazuki always felt a little bit impotent around him. If the president went full mache chad mode and said something like “Yeah, I fucked your girl. Whatcha gonna do about it?” Kazuki would probably end up just doing nothing. Not that Everyone’s Muscle Bro™ was actually that sort of person, and not that Kazuki was going to get a girlfriend before the president graduated, but still… [b]“C’MON ZUKI-NI, PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT!” “WAIT, NO, DON’T DO THAT! ENGAGE YOUR QUADS AND GLUTES MORE INSTEAD!” “YEAH, BACK INJURIES ARE NO JOKE. AND LET’S SEE THAT SMILE, BRUDDA!”[/b] Kazuki sorta wanted to die, but it was also nice not to think about anything other than dying from muscle fatigue. As the only first year in the club, everyone was nice to him, so it was always pleasant. Lifting up twenty pounds of weight with one hand, he sucked in a deep breath, imagined all his power welling up, and LIFTED! Or, well, he tried to. The reality of it was that he stayed in place, shaking and concentrating and not actually being able to lift up that weight after all. Who knew one’s muscles could be so rebellious when in the face of strain and effort? Kazuki knew. He experienced it every day. … Skipping the shower meant that Kazuki was a smelly boy by the time the bell rang for the end of afterschool activities, and skipping the shower also meant that Ms. Yamaguchi gave him a weird look when she handed Fumio’s handouts over to him, but his body odours meant that all the housewives in the grocery store he frequented kept themselves at a respectable distance. Enoki mushrooms, get! Instant dashi, get! Assorted greens, get! Cheap beef? Hell yeah! And can’t forget tomorrow’s lunch of today’s dinner bentos, either! Yay! With the efficiency of someone who had shopped way too many times at the same place, buying the same things, Kazuki breezed through everything, got bottlenecked at the cash register, and burst free, ready to do his final chore for the day. His schedule was shot to pieces, of course; he was half an hour behind everything. But Fumio lived close by, in a two story apartment, with a mom who worked night shifts downtown. Kazuki turned the corner, entered the gates, bowed at the chainsmoking landlord, ran up the steps, regretted running up because his sore calves doth protest at such abuse, an- [b]“Oh, hey, Fumio, heading out after all?”[/b] A blond youth, his dark roots showing on the crown of his head, turned towards Kazuki. His eyes were bagged again, his gaze listless. Lips were cracked. Had he not been eating? Still in slacks too. [b]“Mm,”[/b] was his response. Kazuki grinned. [b]“Glad you see you feeling better then.”[/b] [i]Wanna come over for dinner?[/i] He wasn’t going to say that. [b]“Naw.”[/b] A slow shake. He smelled of something oily, sticky. [b]“Still shit.”[/b] [b]“Hope you, uh, get better soon.”[/b] A blank stare, then a nod. [b]“So, am I blocking you?” “Not really.”[/b] Kazuki raised a brow. [b]“You’re heading out though?”[/b] Fumio remained unaffected. [b]“I’ve headed out.”[/b] The pajama-clad youth took in a deep breath, eyes reflecting a rosy, golden suburb. [b]“And now I’m done.” “Oh. Kay.”[/b] Kazuki blinked twice, before quickly rummaging through his pack. [b]“Right, your handouts. There’s readings to do for next week, but it’s still fairly chill so far.” “Thanks.” “No problem.” “I’ll go now.”[/b] Fumio stepped in and closed the door. A moment later, there was a click as the bolt locked in, and a moment later, the chain rattled as well, slid into its own slot. Kazuki blinked a third time. He took in a deep breath as well, but only drew in the residual oiliness that tracked Fumio. That was gross. The boy shook his head, rubbed his nose, and headed back home. He didn’t have time for this.