Momoka grinned like a sleazy old man, elbowing Ryo in the ribs with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"So, tell me already—who caught your attention more? The flashy blonde beauty, or that tall, quiet athlete? You've already got those gymnast twins hanging around, so what's the deal? You into sporty girls, huh~?"
Ryo narrowed his eyes, deadpan.
"Between pretty, cute, well-built athletes and sloppy, unemployed, booze-loving rock musicians… I'll take the latter. Now stop bothering me—I'm typing."
He brushed her elbow aside, but Momoka only puffed out her cheeks like a sulking child.
Out in public, she could pass for a confident, mature woman. Some of her fans even imagined her as a "cool big sister" type—dominant, untouchable, someone they wanted to get stepped on by.
But that was just a fantasy filter. Ryo could testify firsthand that reality was far less glamorous.
She had the heart of a gossiping old man, zero sense of personal boundaries, and the closer you got, the more she treated you like one of the boys.
So naturally, she completely missed his subtle confession.
Momoka leaned closer, balancing on her toes, and peered over his shoulder at his phone.
"Wait—are you still texting that high-school girl? Careful, kid, if you come on too strong, she'll ghost you! I've seen it happen—back in my band days, some of our guys were super popular, but all those girls chasing them were—wait, hold up. Who's that?"
"The doctor I mentioned before," Ryo replied calmly.
He didn't even glance up.
"You remember the part-time job I said seemed sketchy? That's her—the doctor who runs that private clinic. She said she liked my body for 'clinical testing.' I'm just messaging her to make sure she diagnoses the volleyball girl's injury as serious enough. Ideally, I want her to issue a temporary exemption note so the kid has an excuse to skip training."
Momoka blinked.
"Ohhh…"
Her brows knit together as her sluggish brain processed that information. She tilted her head, thinking hard.
Then—at last—her eyes went wide.
"Wait, wait, wait! You mean you exaggerated that girl's injury on purpose?! She wasn't actually that bad off, and you asked the doctor to forge a note!? Oh my god, you really went that far just to chase a high-school girl?! That's so desperate! So pervy!!"
Ryo sighed heavily. "Yeah, sure. I'm the pervy one. Got it."
He was too tired to even argue.
Truth was, it wasn't like that at all.
He wasn't chasing anyone.
He was just… meddling again.
For all he knew, the story those girls told might not even be true. Maybe Kamoshida really was strict but not abusive.
He was supposed to be retired—a normal high-school student, a law-abiding citizen. This wasn't his fight.
And yet, he couldn't ignore it.
They crossed your path, he told himself. You heard their pain. That makes them acquaintances, doesn't it?
A weak justification, even by his own standards.
But he didn't care.
He acted on instinct. Always had.
Momoka wouldn't get that—but the doctor certainly did.
Moments later, his phone buzzed with a reply.
It wasn't a long message, just a short line that made him groan.
[You owe me one, lab rat.]
Ryo smirked wryly. Yeah, fair enough.
The madwoman at Yongen-Jaya Clinic always had a twisted sense of humor.
Later that evening, after their shift ended, Ryo and Momoka were about to clock out when the automatic door chimed.
A flash of blonde entered the store.
The same half-Japanese girl from earlier—Ann Takamaki.
The moment she saw Ryo, her blue eyes lit up.
She ran up to him with a bright, innocent smile and grabbed his hands.
"Thank you so much! I took Shiho to that clinic you mentioned, and you were totally right—her injury was way worse than she thought!"
Her words came out in a rush, practically sparkling with energy.
"The super-pretty doctor said Shiho didn't just sprain her wrist—she actually caught some super-rare virus or something! If we'd ignored it, her muscles might've melted! But luckily, the doctor had special medicine on hand! Shiho just has to go back for a few check-ups, and she'll be fine! It's all thanks to you—if not for your warning, she might've ended up with permanent damage! I don't even know how to thank you enough~!"
Ryo blinked. "Uh… oh, uh… you're welcome. Saving a life is worth more than a thousand sermons. Just doing my duty."
He forced a polite smile, praying she didn't notice the twitch in his cheek.
That damn punk doctor…
Sure, he'd asked her to exaggerate the diagnosis—but this? A virus that melted muscles? Seriously?
He could practically hear her laughing while typing that up.
Still, Ann's radiant expression made it hard to stay annoyed.
"Anyway," Ryo said softly, "it's clear you really care about your friend. There aren't many people who'd go this far for someone else."
Ann's smile widened, and her sapphire eyes gleamed.
"Of course! Shiho's my best friend—we've known each other since middle school! When my parents moved overseas, she was always by my side. She's basically my sister. …Ah, and don't call me Miss, okay? Makes me sound like a teacher."
She straightened her back proudly, standing tall like the model she clearly was.
Yet despite her striking beauty, that bright, guileless grin was pure and youthful.
"I'm Ann Takamaki, by the way. Just call me Ann! And, uh, can I get your name, mysterious drugstore hero?"
"…Ryo Jin," he said after a beat. "Just Ryo is fine."
Ann's laughter chimed like a bell. "Ryo, huh? Got it."
Her joy was infectious. Even Ryo found himself smiling back.
Truth be told, he wasn't used to this kind of interaction.
He'd lived alone for so long—quietly, anonymously—that moments like this felt rare and precious.
Her genuine gratitude, unfiltered and bright, reminded him of the Yoshizawa sisters when he first saved them.
Warmth flickered in his chest.
Yeah, he thought, watching her go. Maybe this kind of "thank you" is the real reward for meddling.