The dojo at Eigadai Affiliated High School was quiet except for the rhythmic thud of Sosuke Kuze’s footwork drills. Sweat dripped down his jawline, his breath steady but heavy. He had been pushing himself harder than usual — even for him. Every strike, every stomp, every breath was sharpened by the pressure of the upcoming tournament.

When his vision blurred from sweat, he finally stopped and headed toward the bathroom to wash his face.

The hallway outside the dojo was empty, the late‑afternoon sun stretching long shadows across the floor. Kuze walked with the same intensity he trained with — focused, fast, not really paying attention to anything except the cold water he desperately wanted.

Then he turned a corner.

And collided with someone.

A soft gasp, the sound of books scattering across the floor, and Kuze froze like he’d been hit by a truck. Standing in front of him was a girl in the school uniform, kneeling to gather her things.

Kuze’s heart jumped into his throat.

He wasn’t good with girls. Not because he disliked them — he just… didn’t know what to do. He was a giant, sweaty, intimidating sumo wrestler who spent more time in the dojo than anywhere else. Girls didn’t usually talk to him, and he didn’t know how to talk to them.

He swallowed hard.

“…Sorry,” he muttered, bowing stiffly.

He crouched down and helped her pick up her notebooks, careful not to crush anything with his massive hands. She looked up at him, surprised but not scared — which somehow made him even more nervous.