Chapter 3: Cross-counter From Three Different Angles

Ryoma leaves the gym in the early afternoon, still with Aki and Reika. Aki has her excuse ready: research into the daily lives of athletes. Reika, meanwhile, looks like a cat in a crowded room, pretending she belongs. She stays quiet at first, letting Aki’s chatter fill the air.

"So, Ryoma-kun..." Aki finally pauses after five minutes of nonstop questions. "I heard your coach mention a title shot within a year. Do you really think you can do it?"

"Well, I..." Ryoma lets his voice dip. "I don’t think I can stay at Super Featherweight for long."

Aki studies his wiry face. "Ah, yes... you do look a little thin for your frame."

There Reika jumps in, her humor dry. "Guess you’re one of those guys who forgets to eat. With how skinny you are, I bet your fridge is empty."

Ryoma’s brow twitches.

But before the silence curdles, Aki cuts in. "So, when you’re not training or fighting, what else do you do?"

"Not much," Ryoma says flatly. "If I’m not training, I’m resting."

Aki beams, scribbling notes. "That’s dedication. Living the sport day and night."

Reika interrupts again, tone sharp. "Or maybe you just can’t afford hobbies. You look like someone who should be picking up side jobs, not just throwing punches."

Ryoma’s jaw tightens.

Aki notices, rushing in again. "Boxing’s already a full-time job, right? No need for distractions..."

But Reika cuts over her once more: "So how much do you even make? With a gym that small, can it even cover instant noodles?"

Three attempts, three heavy blows to his pride. Just before they reach the Y-junction, Ryoma simply reaches for the door handle.

The locked click echoes in the car, and Reika stomps the brake. And with a puzzled look...

"Have we reached your house already?" she asks.

Ryoma stares at her, cold. "Open the door."

"What?" Reika frowns. "Wait... did I offend you? Dude, come on, it’s just a joke."

"Open the door," Ryoma repeats, flat.

Aki glances back and forth between them, tension climbing into her throat. Reika’s shoulders sag, and then unlocks it.

Without another word, Ryoma steps out into the narrow street. Aki immediately scrambles after him, guilt washing over her even though it wasn’t her words that cut.

"Ryoma! Wait! I’m sorry on behalf of my friend. She didn’t mean it, I promise."

But he keeps walking, detached, his face unreadable. Not furious, just distant, because he knows when to keep his space clear from toxic girls, especially the ones who carry privilege like it is air.

Reika drives the car across the other side of the junction, and then pulls over properly. She steps out too, torn between pride and regret.

She edges closer to where Aki has caught up to Ryoma, right outside a small barber shop with a faded sign.

"Is this where you live?" Aki asks, softly.

Ryoma shakes his head. "No. This is my mom’s barber shop."

"Oh, cool..."

Ryoma’s tone with Aki is calm, even normal. But when his eyes catch Reika’s, his expression sours. Without another word, he disappears into the shop.

Once Ryoma steps into the shop, he stops dead. Kaede is there, sitting in the chair, his mother’s work freshly finished in the shine of her hair.

"Oh, dear! You’re home... and with company?" his mother greets with her usual warmth.

Ryoma doesn’t answer. His eyes are locked on Kaede. She looks dazzling today, sharper, brighter than he remembers. Maybe it’s the haircut. Or maybe it’s just the shock of finding her here, in this small, humble place.

Beside him, Aki starts to greet cheerfully, but the sight of Kaede makes her expression stiffen, softening quickly into a polite bow. Then she tilts her head, because outside the window, she notices Reika standing awkwardly by the car.

Ryoma swallows. His voice comes out strained.

"Kaede... when did you get here?"

"Just now," Kaede replies lightly.

His mother cuts in with a half-laugh. "What are you saying? She’s been waiting for you since morning."

That single sentence is enough for Aki to understand: Kaede is close to both Ryoma and his mother.

"Sorry if this is rude, but..." Aki hesitates, pointing between them. "Your... girlfriend?"

Ryoma stammers. Deep inside, a part of him still sees Kaede as the ex who once walked away, someone else’s wife in another life. But here, in this time line, he is just that nineteen years old boy, and Kaede is still his girlfriend.

"Uh... Aki, this is Kaede. Kaede, Aki."

The awkward dodge, the fact he doesn’t just say yes to Aki’s question, lands heavy. To Kaede, it feels like guilt, as though she’s walked in on a betrayal.

Still, she bows politely to Aki. But when her eyes return to Ryoma, they’re colder.

"Ryoma... why haven’t you replied to my message?"

And only now does Ryoma remember, that message after his debut fight. She had said she was free this weekend. He was the one who asked her out, but then ghosted her instead.

Ryoma’s mother, Fumiko, senses something serious here. But she quietly slips toward the back door with her cigarettes. Sometimes the best way to help a son grow is to leave him in the fire.

"I’m sorry, Kaede," Ryoma begins, voice low. "I got called into sparring, and since then my head’s been..."

Kaede steps closer, her eyes drop to the bruise at the corner of his mouth. Her hand rises slowly, almost instinctively, to touch it.

For a second, Aki sees nothing but raw affection in her face. And then she tries to lighten the mood.

"He sparred with the Japanese Champion," Aki blurts, almost defensively. "But he’s fine."

Kaede’s gaze flicks to her, displeasure written plain. Seeming to know what’s inside her mind, Aki simply raises both hands.

"Please... I’m just a journalist."

Kaede studies her, from neat shoes to the notebook still clutched in her hand, and seems to believe it. But then she tilts, peering past the doorframe, where Reika stands in casual, date-ready clothes.

"Ah, that’s just my friend," Aki says quickly.

Kaede nods once, and then turns back to Ryoma. Her disappointment is quiet now, subdued. She doesn’t scold him, doesn’t argue. But she feels she can’t stay, and decides to walks toward the exit.

"Kaede, wait!" Ryoma calls, trying to stop her. "I’m sorry I didn’t text you back."

Kaede’s hand rests on the door. She looks back, her face calm, touched only by a sadness she doesn’t try to hide.

"Another time, Ryoma," she smiles. "I know you need some rest. Just... don’t ghost me when I text you, okay?"

Ryoma feels a pang of guilt.

In his previous life, after losing his mom, he was so broken he completely ghosted her. The regret only deepened when he later saw her with another man, yet he was too shattered to confront her, and chose instead to keep his distance.

Even now, he feels choked, unable to say the words that might make her stay longer. Kaede steps out, her gaze fixed on the floor, not daring to meet Reika’s eyes.

It’s either she hates her, or simply out of resentment Ryoma went out with a girl as dazzling as her. But before she’s gone too far, her steps slow. Her mind circles back, replaying the image of that girl by the shop.

Just a friend?

No, something in her won’t accept it. She turns, gathering enough courage to glance over her shoulder.

That’s when their eyes meet. And Kaede doesn’t need anyone to explain it. Every girl knows this look, the unspoken test, the quiet challenge.

Because right now, Reika is smiling at her. Not warmly. Not kindly. It’s the kind of smile that doesn’t welcome, but claims.