The humid Tokyo evening had settled fully by the time Lena and Kaito reached Suzuki Gym again, their soaked clothes still clinging uncomfortably to their bodies.
Streetlights cast long, yellowish pools across the pavement.
Both of them arrived at the sliding glass doors at the exact same moment, breathing hard from the sprint, water still dripping from their hair and clothes.
Lena bent over slightly, hands on her powerful thighs, catching her breath.
"Ugh," she groaned, shooting him a frustrated glare. "I was really looking forward to exposing you."
Kaito straightened up with a grin, wiping water from his face.
"Since we made it at the same time, we can just say we both secretly like watching little boys."
Lena straightened immediately, cheeks flushing under the streetlight.
"Uhm, no. But you can believe that if you want. Weirdo."
She pushed open the door without waiting for him, leaving a trail of lake water across the entrance mat. Kaito chuckled and followed her inside.
The gym was quieter now in the evening. A few fighters still drilled on the far mats under the lights, the slap of gi fabric echoing softly.
The air felt cooler than outside, carrying the familiar mix of sweat, rubber, and cleaning solution.
Kaito led her past the main training area toward a small back office and storage room tucked behind the reception desk.
"Wait here," he said, disappearing for a moment before returning with a white first-aid kit and two sets of spare gym clothes—simple black t-shirts and dark shorts, the standard spares they kept for guests and staff.
"Change first so we don't drip everywhere."
Lena took her set and stepped into the small changing area.
She peeled off the soaked navy tank top and gray shorts, her muscular body glistening with lake water.
The scrapes on her left forearm stung sharply as the fabric pulled away. She toweled off quickly with a spare towel from the shelf and changed into the dry clothes.
The black t-shirt was a little loose across her shoulders but comfortable, and the shorts fit well enough over her thick, trained thighs.
Her brown hair, still curly from the earlier shower and now lake water, hung damp and wild around her face.
When she stepped out, Kaito had already changed in the men's side. The dry shirt hugged his lean, athletic frame, showing the muscles earned from years of wrestling and boxing.
They sat on a bench in the backroom under the harsh light.
Kaito opened the med kit first.
"Your turn," he said, gesturing for her arm.
Lena extended her left forearm reluctantly. The graze was raw and dirty from the lake bottom.
Kaito worked carefully, cleaning it with antiseptic wipes. His touch was surprisingly gentle for someone with calloused fighter's hands.
The cool wipe stung, but she stayed silent, watching the furrow of his brow.
"Doesn't look too deep," he muttered.
"Should heal fine."
He applied ointment and wrapped a clean bandage around her arm with efficient, practiced movements. When he finished, Lena took the kit from him.
"Now you."
She cleaned the scrape on his right arm with the same focused attention.
Up close, she noticed the small details—the faint tan lines from training, the way his muscles shifted under her fingers. She wrapped the bandage neatly, tying it off with a secure knot.
"There," she said, leaning back. "Don't say I never did anything for you."
They stood and walked back toward the main entrance.
Kaito stopped at the row of vending machines glowing softly against the wall. He glanced around quickly, then leaned in with a mischievous glint.
"Wanna know a trick?"
Before she could answer, he gave the machine a precise sequence of taps on the side panel, then selected two bottles of cold barley tea.
They dropped down without payment.
Lena crossed her arms. "That's stealing."
"Not if it's my own gym," Kaito replied smoothly, handing her one of the chilled bottles.
"It's your dad's gym."
"Soon to be mine," he said with a shrug, cracking open his own drink.
Lena raised an eyebrow as they stepped outside into the warm night air.
"That makes it sound like you're gonna try and kill your dad or something."
Kaito nearly choked on his tea, laughing. "I would never. The old man's tougher than both of us combined. He'd probably outlive me just to prove a point."
They walked side by side through the quiet residential streets. The summer night hummed around them—cicadas in the trees, distant laughter from a nearby izakaya, the occasional scooter buzzing past.
Lena sipped her tea, the cold liquid soothing after the scorching evening.
"You don't have to walk me home, you know," she said after a while. "I'm nineteen. Turning twenty soon. I can walk on my own."
Kaito took a long drink from his bottle. "Let me be a gentleman for one second, hm? When's your birthday anyway?"
"August 4th."
"So in about a month, huh?" He nudged her lightly with his elbow. "Planning anything big? Or are you just going to train until you collapse like usual?"
Lena smirked. "Probably the second one. Though my mom keeps talking about some sakura-themed café she saw. She's obsessed with tourist stuff even though we're here for training."
They fell into easier conversation as they walked. Kaito told her a funny story about a tournament where his shorts ripped during a match, forcing him to finish with his rash guard tied around his waist like a skirt.
Lena admitted she once threw up during weigh-ins from nerves but still won her division.
The banter flowed naturally—light jabs mixed with genuine curiosity.
Before long, the familiar Airbnb building came into view, its modest entrance lit by soft outdoor lamps.
They stopped at the front steps.
"Thanks for getting my mind off my problems by... getting us hurt." Lena said, shifting her weight.
The bandage on her arm pulled slightly as she moved.
Kaito nodded, finishing the last of his tea.
"Anytime. Try not to overthink too much before the next training session. The mat's not your enemy. I am." He said with a joking voice.
He waited until she was safely inside the door before turning and walking back into the night, hands in his pockets, a faint smile lingering on his face.
Lena stepped into the quiet Airbnb. The living room light was on low—her mother must have returned already.
She closed the door softly behind her, the day's events still buzzing in her head: the argument, the training blow-up, the lake, the bandaging, the walk.
For once, the usual heavy pressure in her chest somehow left as if it took it's own vacation.