After a few days with the new routine, Ryoma wakes in the morning with a stiff grunt, every muscle below his ribs protesting. His thighs ache with a deep sour throb, and his midsection feels like someone stored a sack of bricks under his skin.
"Damn you, Okabe…" He exhales sharply. "Enjoying yourself too much."
Still, soreness never stopped him before. After splashing water on his face and tugging on his running gear, he steps outside for a long stretch beneath the pale pre-dawn sky.
The air is cool, the world still asleep. His body complains with every bend and twist.
Normally he'd head to the Tama River, but the thought of that distance makes his legs twitch in protest.
"Not today."
He settles for a light jog around the neighborhood blocks instead, steady, simple loops just to get the blood moving.
With each stride, the soreness loosens, but not by much.
