The next morning, the fatigue was still dominant, but the muscle soreness was structured—the good kind of ache.
He hurried to school. During the sprint, he noticed he could push past the initial burning threshold for a small but significant moment longer. He slid into his seat, winded but not completely destroyed.
The moment of truth arrived in gym class.
"Push-ups," Coach Tanaka announced. "Five repetitions. The basic test of upper body and core strength."
Kenji lay on the dusty gym floor. His muscles protested instantly. He had accumulated a total of 0.7 Strength through his strategic failures.
Impossible. He was still fundamentally weak.
He positioned his hands. He tried to lower and then push up. His body was a heavy, unresponsive weight. He felt the trembling that always preceded complete failure.
But this time, the tremble was different. It was delayed.
He pressed up.
His arms shook violently. His back arched slightly. It was ugly, slow, and desperate—but he achieved full extension. One push-up.
He collapsed, gasping for air.
Coach Tanaka stared. "What the—Asahina! You actually did one! A terrible one, but one!"
Ren looked at him, disbelief plain on his face. "Hold on. Yesterday, you couldn't breathe after ten meters. What did you do?"