Sumiya Ryouta's steps faltered, frozen by his own inferiority. He couldn't face reality.
He'd thought Anri Hitomi was still the same Hitomi-chan—his cheerful childhood friend.
But she had changed. Grown distant. Grown up. She was already walking toward the future, while he was still stuck in the past.
I should've accepted that a long time ago...
Instead, he clung to her. Made trouble for her. What the hell have I been doing?
Ryouta felt so ashamed he wanted to slap himself—twice.
So even now, he hadn't grown at all. Still the same scared little coward.
Some people, once missed, are missed forever.
That's why the one standing beside Anri Hitomi now… was him, and not Ryouta.
Akira Kuroba, for what it was worth, offered a bit of clarification—to at least stop Ryouta from jumping to the wrong conclusion.
"Class Rep and I aren't what you think. She made me a bento because I suggested a deal. I'd join the Literature Club, and in return, she'd make lunch for me. That's all. If she didn't let you join, maybe you should be asking yourself why."
"And about what you said—her only ever making bentos for her future husband? Sounds like a childhood promise. Honestly, she probably doesn't even remember saying that."
"So I'm not your love rival. I'm not even chasing after her."
Akira walked up to Ryouta, still slumped on the ground, and crouched down.
"So? Still wanna fight?"
"…Damn it…"
Ryouta clenched his fists. Deep down, he hated Akira. Hated the guy who had forced him to face reality.
He got to his feet, slapped his thighs, forcing himself to snap out of it. Then he jabbed a finger toward Akira.
"One punch."
"Huh?"
Akira raised an eyebrow, not quite following.
"Just one punch! Let me hit you once—and we'll call it even!"
Ah... so this is how he says goodbye to the past. Like me with that phone call.
Akira stood up and cracked his knuckles.
"You don't expect me to just stand there and take it, do you? I'll hit back."
"Bring it on!"
God, what's with that noble-sacrifice expression? You're not fighting the Demon King, man—I'm not a final boss.
"…Fine. Let's go."
Ryouta took a deep breath, then charged in with his fist raised—like he was throwing his entire soul behind that punch.
He aimed straight for the face.
Normally, fights between students avoided the face. Too easy to get caught. Most people aimed for the gut or the back.
But Ryouta wasn't holding back. So, Akira would respond accordingly.
He stayed perfectly still, watching the punch come in.
Face punches were easy to predict. The head was a small target—you couldn't land a clean hit without precision.
Akira locked onto the trajectory, shifted his stance—and countered.
Ryouta's punch grazed his cheek.
Akira's punch landed clean across Ryouta's face.
A textbook cross-counter.
"Ghh…!"
Ryouta staggered backward a few steps, but didn't fall. Though, God, he wanted to.
He covered his nose. Blood flowed freely. His eyes were swimming with tears.
A man can bleed, but he must not cry.
Since the blood had already spilled, the tears had to stay in.
Akira looked down at the blood-streaked knuckles of his index and middle fingers. The sensation of the punch still tingled through his hand.
This is why I hate fighting… it hurts the one being hit, sure—but it messes with the one doing the hitting, too.
Anyone who enjoys punching people must've had their conscience burned away by rage.
Akira shook out his hand and asked flatly,
"You done?"
"…Yeah. I'm good."
Ryouta hadn't landed a hit. But he'd poured every ounce of frustration and regret into that one swing. Let it all fly in that arc of motion.
And when it was over, he felt… empty. But also a little relieved.
Maybe he hadn't wanted to hit Akira to begin with.
Maybe he'd just wanted to be hit—just once—to make it all easier to let go.
"Kuroba Akira… you'd better make her happy."
"Uh…"
Akira rolled his eyes.
And why are you the one saying this? Are you her dad or something?
"Her happiness is her own to claim. It's not something I can give—or should try to."
"…Right."
Happiness should always be something you earn for yourself…
But for Ryouta, the window had already closed.
That day, Sumiya Ryouta took his first real step toward growing up.
And he finally, painfully realized—
He'd been dumped long ago. He just never knew it.
...
Just before lunch break ended, Akira and Ryouta returned to the classroom, one after the other.
Waiting for them, arms crossed with a grim expression, was Kobayakawa-sensei. Looked like the class rep had already gone to report the incident.
One of them had a visible injury. The other didn't.
It wasn't hard to guess a fight had taken place.
The class was stunned.
Wait… Sumiya Ryouta was the one who got hit?!
Is Kuroba Akira secretly a beast?!
Ryouta's circle of friends didn't look too pleased either. Two of the guys scowled at Akira like they were already plotting revenge.
A girl with a ponytail looked at Ryouta with obvious concern, then glared daggers at Akira as if to say: You'll pay for this.
This is why I didn't want to get involved with this guy… Akira sighed internally. Now I'm gonna be cast as the villain. Let's hope Ryouta tells his friends to back off. No need for a "save grandpa, one brother per hill" situation.
Across the room, Anri Hitomi let out a quiet breath of relief.
That softened the blow a little. At least she did care.
Soon after, both boys were summoned to the faculty office, where Kobayakawa-sensei began interrogating them about what happened.
Akira didn't say a word.
Ryouta took all the blame himself.
He admitted to losing his temper and troubling Akira, and for the blood on his face…
"We didn't fight. I tripped and hit my nose."
"…Is that true, Kuroba-kun?"
"If he says so, then sure."
"..."
Kobayakawa-sensei might've been overly earnest, but she wasn't stupid. She could tell the injury came from a punch.
She just didn't get why Ryouta looked… at peace. Like he'd let something go.
"…All right, I'll let it slide this time. I don't want either of you getting suspended. So from now on, I hope you can get along. Shake hands and make up."
"Tch…"
Ryouta didn't bother hiding his irritation.
He still didn't like Akira—not one bit. Most of that came down to jealousy.
Sure, he'd made the decision to give up on Anri Hitomi.
But that didn't mean he wanted to watch Akira get with her.
Damn it… If she dumps you too, we'll be even. Then I might even treat you to ramen or something…
Akira didn't mind. Honestly, he was fine with a handshake.
He had a reason for wanting it, after all: he could check if Ryouta had any talents.
So Akira offered his hand first.
Kobayakawa-sensei was moved nearly to tears. See? Kuroba-kun isn't a delinquent! He only fought back because he had no choice!
Reluctantly, Ryouta took the hand.
Akira took the opportunity to glance at the text that shimmered over Ryouta's right hand:
[Boxing A]
Oh damn…
Guess he hasn't awakened to this yet.
If he had, my face might've gotten completely remodeled.
Let's hope you're not the vengeful type, Sumiya Ryouta. Let's be friends, okay?
I swear I won't punch you in the face again.
---
T/N: PHEW BULLET DODGED
...
dont worry bonus chaps will be released on sunday
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