By the time Ryoma and Aramaki reach Nakahara Gym, Kenta and Okabe are already inside, stretching along the mat near the wall mirrors.
Kenta rolls his shoulders lazily, humming under his breath. Okabe, however, moves with sharp precision, eyes fixed forward as if staring down an invisible opponent.
He does not joke around like usual. The absence of Ryohei lingers in the room like something unsaid. Or perhaps the weight pressing on Okabe since yesterday has not lifted.
Aramaki and Ryoma exchange a brief glance.
"I'm leaving him to you," Ryoma says quietly.
Aramaki nods once and walks toward Okabe. "Morning," he says lightly. "You look like you're about to fight someone before breakfast."
Okabe keeps stretching his hamstring. "Morning."
"That's it?" Aramaki smirks. "No insults today?"
Okabe exhales through his nose. "Not in the mood."
Aramaki crouches slightly to match his level. "Good. Means you're thinking."
Okabe glances up briefly. "Thinking doesn't win fights."
