Chapter 51 – Rest Day 6
Cody woke in the dim light, the cabin ceiling still cloaked in shadows. The only sound breaking the silence was Owen's cavernous snoring, like a hibernating bear beside him. Without making a sound, Cody sat up, dressed with automatic movements, and stepped outside.
The early morning air greeted him with a light chill—bracing, but comforting. He began jogging toward the training area, letting his footsteps set the rhythm of his thoughts.
The situation had caught him off guard. Everything felt unreal, like he was living inside a dream he hadn't fully grasped. How had he gotten here? When did life take this turn?
He was now Gwen's boyfriend.
Gwen.
The girl he'd idealized for as long as he could remember. The mysterious goth, sharp-minded, with that sarcastic edge that made him tremble and laugh at the same time. And yes, there was also the physical detail he couldn't ignore: a full-on goth with curves. Cody thought it without guilt, with that mix of awe and pride only a lovestruck teenager could feel.
But beyond the cliché, what shook him was the depth of the bond. Gwen had chosen him. Not by accident, not out of lack of options. She had looked at him, listened to him, and decided he was worth it.
And that… changed everything.
As he jogged, Cody let his thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind. The girls… all stunning. Each with something unique, something that had touched him in a different way. Lindsay with her disarming sweetness, Courtney with her relentless fire, Bridgette with that ocean-born calm, Heather with her razor-sharp wit, Izzy with her charming chaos.
With each of them, he'd lived something beautiful. Moments that wouldn't fade, kisses still felt on his skin, words etched like invisible tattoos.
Today, more than ever, he felt lucky. But also confused.
He couldn't deny he felt like he was betraying Issei, Roshi, and all the harem masters who once inspired him. What would they say if they saw him now, giving up the path of multi-love for just one girl?
But Gwen wasn't "just a girl." She was the girl. And cheating on her… wasn't part of his code. Not after everything they'd shared. Not after the way she looked at him, like he was more than just a lucky guy.
The problem was, he didn't know what to do. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He had no experience with this stuff. Not even his memories of Max Steel could help—Max fought aliens, not emotional dilemmas.
He sighed.
Finally, he reached his training spot. A clearing among the trees, with firm ground and clean air. Here, he could think, move, release the tension gnawing at him from the inside.
He stopped, stretched his arms, and got ready to begin.
Cody stood before a rock the size of an old refrigerator. He looked at it with respect, like it was a silent master. Then, without hesitation, he began punching it with fists wrapped in makeshift bandages.
"Let's go, Garp style!" Cody shouted, throwing punches like he was training to sink ships with his knuckles.
Each hit brought a grimace of pain—but also a smile. Pain was part of the process. Part of the code. Part of the madness.
Next, he positioned himself beneath a rocky slope and waited. He'd balanced small stones above, and now let them fall one by one. His mission: catch them mid-air.
"Hippo Makanouchi, don't fail me now!" Cody exclaimed, his hands moving like fan blades.
He missed the first five. Then caught one. Then two. Then took a stone straight to the eye.
"Agh! That was cheating! That one had unresolved trauma!"
Without stopping, he launched into the next phase: tree jumping. Not out of necessity, but for reflexes. For balance. For style.
"Tarzan, lend me your Wi-Fi!" Cody shouted as he swung from branch to branch, his movements half agile, half desperate.
At one point, he nearly fell. He clung to a branch with one hand, dangling like he was in a musical action scene.
"This is for Gwen! And for my constantly endangered masculine dignity!"
He continued with other exercises: push-ups with logs on his back, crunches while reciting motivational movie quotes, and a round of skyward yelling that served no physical purpose—but plenty of emotional one.
His body was at its limit. He sweated like he was in an emotional sauna. But his mind… his mind was clearing.
Each punch, each jump, each stone caught was a way to organize the internal chaos.
And while he didn't have answers yet, one thing was clear: he wasn't going to give up. Not on Gwen. Not on the others. Not on himself.
Cody paused, hands on his knees, breathing deeply. Sweat dripped from his forehead, mixing with the dirt on his face. There was no room for distractions anymore. Just him, his body, and the need to understand himself.
He took a combat stance in front of the rock. This time, it wasn't for show. It was for discipline.
He struck with precision. One, two, three. Pause. Shift stance. Downward strike. Spin. Reverse punch.
Each movement was measured. Each impact echoed in his bones.
"It's not about strength. It's about intention," Cody murmured to himself.
He stepped away from the rock and headed to a row of aligned logs. He began push-ups, feet elevated on one of them. His body straight, breathing controlled.
"I don't want to keep improvising. I need clarity. I need structure," Cody said between gasps.
He moved on to a balance routine. Walked across a narrow log, arms extended. The forest was silent, as if respecting his moment.
"I never learned this. No one taught me how to handle what I feel. I just know I don't want to hurt anyone. Or lose myself trying," Cody said quietly.
He jumped off the log, landed in a squat, and launched into a series of crunches. Each contraction was a way to expel guilt, confusion, fear.
"This is mine. This moment. This decision. I can't keep waiting for someone else to tell me who I am," Cody said, looking at the sky between reps.
Finally, he stood. His body trembled, but his gaze was steady. He walked toward the nearby lake, unhurried, as if the water had been waiting for him.
Cody ended his training. His body was exhausted, but his mind was beginning to find something close to calm. He decided to swim.
He walked to the river where, long ago, he'd met Izzy. The place was unchanged: peaceful, surrounded by trees, the water flowing as if it didn't care about human drama.
—
He stripped down to his boxers. Without thinking twice, he dove into the water. The impact was cold, but revitalizing. He swam for a while, letting the movement relax his muscles and the silence do its part.
Then he heard it.
A different sound. Something else had entered the water.
He didn't panic. He recognized it instantly. By the scent, by the way it moved, by how it hugged him from behind without warning.
Izzy.
"What are you doing out here all alone?" Izzy shouted, with that voice that always sounded halfway between a laugh and an explosion.
Cody didn't answer right away. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the hug, the water, the weight of everything he hadn't said.
"Training again?" Izzy asked, closer now, her head resting on his shoulder.
Cody opened his eyes and looked at the sky. There were no easy answers. But he couldn't keep dodging them either.
Izzy didn't waste time. As soon as Cody entered the water, she approached like she was part of the landscape, floating with ease and boldness. Her eyes scanned his torso with a mix of surprise and approval.
"Wow… this body?" Izzy said with a crooked smile. "You already had good material when you got here, but now it looks like someone sculpted you with dedication. What happened, did you bathe in protein?"
Cody laughed, awkwardly, and gently stopped her when her hands started exploring a bit too much.
"Easy, Izzy. I'm not a gym exhibit. Chill," Cody said with a nervous smile.
Izzy backed off a little, but the sparkle in her eyes didn't fade. She floated in front of him like she was conducting a casual interview.
"I saw what happened yesterday," she said, like it was a throwaway fact. "You and Gwen. In the cabin. Kisses, intense looks, confessions. Very soap opera."
Cody stayed silent. He didn't know how to respond. He hadn't expected Izzy to see it, let alone mention it so casually.
"How… how do you know that?" Cody asked, still processing.
Izzy shrugged, splashing water unintentionally.
"I'm good at reading lips. Good at sneaking around. And great at detecting romantic tension from miles away," Izzy said with a wide grin.
Cody looked at her, still confused. But what surprised him most was what came next.
"Congrats on the relationship!" Izzy said, raising her arms like she'd just scored a goal. "The goth girl picked you! Every nerd with good taste's dream!"
Cody let out a laugh, more from surprise than amusement.
"Didn't expect that from you," Cody said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Izzy swam in circles, like warming up for a race that wasn't going to happen.
"What did you expect? That I'd get jealous? Throw you an emotional grenade? Please. Gwen's… interesting. But you know when it comes to tactics, weapons, and survival, there's only one expert in this camp."
Cody raised an eyebrow.
"Are you saying Gwen doesn't know about that?"
Izzy leaned in, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret.
"I'm saying Gwen can talk about books and deep stares. I can teach you how to disarm a trap with a paperclip and survive three days with a rope and a granola bar. You decide what excites you more."
Cody rubbed his head, trying to sort thoughts that didn't quite fit.
"It's weird doing this. Talking like this. Outside the circle," Cody said.
Izzy looked at him with a rare expression: calm.
"What if you and I never had a circle? What if we've always been a straight line no one wanted to see?" Izzy said, slowly approaching.
She hugged him again, this time more gently. Her eyes locked onto Cody's, and for the first time, he didn't know whether to look or close his eyes.
"I feel things, Cody. Weird things. Things I don't know how to explain. But when I'm with you, I don't mind not understanding them," Izzy said.
Cody tried to respond, but got lost. Not in words. In the view.
Izzy's wet body, lit by rays filtering through the trees, looked like it belonged in a rebellious painting. It wasn't just beauty. It was energy. Chaos. Life.
And for a moment, he felt part of it.
Izzy touched his chest, right where his heart was pounding.
"I don't want you to choose me out of pity. Or habit. But I don't want you to ignore me out of fear either," Izzy said.
Cody swallowed hard. The water no longer cooled him. It wrapped around him.
"I'm not ignoring you," Cody said finally.
Izzy.
"Then don't run. Not now."
—
The silence between them grew heavier, like the river itself had decided to honor what was about to be said. Cody shifted slightly, pulling just a few inches away from Izzy's embrace, but not breaking it entirely.
"We need to talk seriously," Cody said, voice firm.
Izzy raised an eyebrow, like she hadn't expected him to take the lead.
"Since when do you set the tone?" she asked, half joking.
"Since this started feeling more complicated than it should," Cody replied, holding her gaze.
Izzy went quiet. For the first time, she seemed to listen without interrupting.
"I like you, Cody. You know that. I've said it before. I've shown it. And I don't regret it," Izzy said, with a sincerity that clashed with her usual chaos. "Gwen's sweet. I like her. But mama wants her soldier."
Cody lowered his gaze, as if her words weighed more than he expected.
"I don't know what to say to that," he murmured.
Izzy moved closer, still holding him, like physical contact was her way of keeping him anchored.
"Don't say anything. Just listen," Izzy said. "Picture it. You and me. Adventures. Secret bases. Strange places. Impossible missions. You with your backpack full of gadgets, me with my knife hidden in my shoe. We'd be unstoppable."
Cody looked at her. Her eyes were a universe of their own. Green, intense, full of fire and promises too big for a normal life.
"Sounds amazing," Cody said, almost whispering.
"It is. Because you and I aren't normal. We never were," Izzy said, with a sad smile.
Cody took a deep breath. The water no longer surrounded him. It pressed in.
"But I'm with Gwen now. And I'm not going to ruin that. I can't let her down," Cody said, with conviction.
Izzy stared at him. Didn't move. Didn't pull away. Just watched him, like trying to memorize every line of his face.
"What if it's not letting her down? What if it's just accepting there's more than one way to live something intense?" Izzy asked.
Cody didn't respond. He just looked at her. Her eyes. Her face. Her closeness.
Izzy leaned in slightly. Her lips just inches away. The embrace still firm. The world frozen.
"Just say you feel nothing. Ten cents worth. And I'll walk away," Izzy whispered.
Cody swallowed. He couldn't lie. But he couldn't betray either.
"I can't say that," he replied.
Izzy closed her eyes for a second. Then opened them, brighter than ever.
"Shut up."
And leaned in, ready to kiss him.
Izzy didn't wait. She kissed him.
It wasn't shy or stolen. It was direct, intense, like she wanted to leave an invisible mark that wouldn't wash away with river water or rational decisions.
Cody, for a moment, stayed still. Eyes open, mind blank. The heat of the contact wrapped him like a silent explosion.
Izzy's hands moved across Cody's body. He could feel her fingers going lower and lower, until—
But then, gently but firmly, he pushed her away.
"I can't," Cody said, voice low but resolute. "I won't let Gwen down."
Izzy looked at him. Not with anger. Not with sadness. With something more complex: admiration.
That attitude. That decision. That loyalty. All of it, instead of pushing her away, drew her in even more.
"Then tell her to take good care of you," Izzy said with a crooked smile. "Because mama doesn't quit, and what I felt—Gwen won't own it all."
Cody didn't know what to say. He just watched as she walked away, leaving the water with a grace that felt choreographed.
Her wet bikini clung to her body, and as she walked toward the shore, Cody couldn't help but look at her backside. Not with lust, but with a mix of awe and resignation.
Izzy turned briefly, as if she knew he was watching, and winked before continuing on.
Cody stayed in the water. Alone. The sky began to change color, announcing dawn.
He looked up, breathing deeply.
"She was the first."
He thought of Izzy. Of her chaos. Her intensity. Of how, despite everything, she had been the first to make him feel something he didn't know he could feel.
—
"And what about the others?"
The question lingered, unanswered. Because even though he was with Gwen, something in Cody knew Izzy wasn't just a loose chapter. She was a footnote that refused to disappear.
And the day was just beginning.
Cody stepped out of the water, his body still tense from training and the conversation with Izzy. He walked toward the camp showers, feeling the cool morning air against his wet skin. He entered without hurry, showered in warm water, letting the steam help clear his mind.
He didn't think much. He couldn't. His head was a whirlwind of emotions, images, decisions he still didn't know how to make.
He dressed in clean clothes, fixed his hair in the mirror, and headed to the mess hall.
The first thing he saw was the Chef, standing behind the counter with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a glazed donut in the other. As if he knew Cody would show up at that exact moment.
"Good morning, soldier of love," said the Chef, with a smile that already hinted at mockery.
Cody nodded slightly, walking toward him.
"Already starting?" Cody said, taking the cup with resignation.
The Chef crossed his arms, watching him like a culinary experiment.
"You look different. More… scrambled. Was it the training or the emotional bath in the river?" the Chef asked, teasing.
Cody sat on one of the benches, bit into the donut, and sighed.
"Can't a guy just have breakfast without being psychoanalyzed?" Cody said, half-smiling.
The Chef laughed deeply, clearly enjoying every second of Cody's discomfort.
"When you get involved with multiple girls in a camp full of cameras, there's no breakfast without analysis," said the Chef, pouring himself coffee.
Cody looked at him, knowing more was coming.
"So? Have you decided if you're going to be loyal, brave, or just a lucky idiot?" the Chef asked.
Cody stayed silent for a few seconds. Then took a sip of coffee.
"I'm trying not to be any of those. Just… someone who doesn't hurt anyone," Cody said.
The Chef raised an eyebrow.
"That doesn't exist, kid. In love, there's always pain. The question is: who are you willing to hurt the least?" said the Chef.
Cody didn't respond. He just stared at his cup, as if the coffee held the answers.
He finished his coffee and donut, and without being asked, stayed to help with breakfast. He put on the apron the Chef tossed at him without ceremony and took his place at the prep table.
"Come on, Casanova. Let's see if your hands are good for something besides stirring hearts," said the Chef, handing him a knife.
Cody looked alarmingly resigned and started chopping onions. The silence between cuts encouraged him to speak.
"Chef… can I tell you something without getting insulted?" Cody asked.
"Depends. Is it about surviving a love triangle without losing an eye?" the Chef replied, without looking up.
Cody let out a short laugh.
"It's just… every girl is special. In her own way. They make me feel different things. But Gwen… Gwen is different. I don't know how to explain it. I don't want to play with anyone, or hurt anyone. Especially her. But also… I'm a complete idiot," Cody said.
The Chef paused, glanced sideways at him, then burst out laughing.
"He finally admits it! We've got progress!" the Chef said, raising a spatula like it was a medal.
Cody lowered his gaze, focused on the chopping.
"I don't know how to handle this. I don't want to choose out of pressure. But in the meantime, every gesture, every word… could hurt someone," Cody said.
The Chef leaned on the table, his expression more serious.
"Being an idiot isn't the problem. We all are. The problem is staying one. You've got something most don't: awareness. That already puts you ahead of the pack," said the Chef.
Cody looked at him, surprised by the sincerity.
"Thanks… that helps more than you think," Cody said.
—
The Chef returned to his teasing tone.
"Besides, only you could suffer because too many girls are fighting over you. Sanji from One Piece would hate you with passion," said the Chef.
Cody burst out laughing, imagining the blond cook throwing potatoes at him out of pure spite.
"Yeah, he'd probably see me and yell, 'That idiot doesn't deserve a crumb of love!' while crying over Nami," Cody said.
As he chopped carrots, Cody looked at the knives lined up, gleaming under the light. Each one sharp, precise. Like the decisions he had to make.
The Chef noticed.
"You cut well. Precise, no waste. That says a lot. You're tough, sure. But also smart. You'll figure it out. Just don't do it alone," said the Chef.
Cody straightened up, feeling for the first time in days that someone understood him without judgment.
"Thanks, Chef. Really," Cody said.
The Chef patted him on the shoulder.
"Now stop crying over onions and finish the eggs. Drama isn't served cold," said the Chef.
—