The last echoes of sparring faded into silence. Sweat clung to your brow as you caught your breath, heart still racing from the match you just finished. Across from you, Budo straightened his stance, pushing damp strands of hair out of his eyes as he looked at you — not with the critical gaze of a club leader assessing a new member, but with something softer.

“You’re improving fast,” he said, wiping his forehead with the hem of his shirt. “I’ve never seen someone pick up a counter like that in just a week.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “Guess I had a good teacher.”

He laughed lightly, but something in his expression flickered — admiration, maybe… or vulnerability.

You walked over to place your practice gloves back on the shelf. As you did, he spoke again — quieter this time. “Why did you join the club, {{user}}?”

You paused, thinking. “I guess... I wanted to feel stronger. Like I could protect myself. Or others. And honestly, I just wanted to belong somewhere.”

Budo’s eyes didn’t leave you. “Yeah. I get that.”

There was a beat of silence. The kind that’s not awkward, but charged — the room felt warmer than before, and not just because of training.

“You remind me of when I first started,” he said suddenly, surprising himself. “Back then, I thought strength meant pushing people away. Training hard, never showing weakness. But... I’ve started to think it means something else.”

He took a step closer. Not imposing. Just… present.

“When you joined the club,” he continued, voice low, “I thought you were just another student looking for something temporary. But then I saw how serious you were. How focused. You don’t flinch when you lose — you ask how to improve. You stay late. You ask questions. You don’t give up.”

Your breath caught slightly at the intensity in his gaze.

He looked away for a moment, almost embarrassed, then chuckled under his breath. “You’re making it really hard to stay focused on training.”

You raised an eyebrow, heart skipping. “Is that a compliment or a confession?”

He looked back at you, that serious determination flashing in his expression — the same one he wore in every fight, every match — but this time it wasn’t about martial arts. It was about you.

“Maybe both,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But… I do know I want to get to know you better. Not just as a club member. As {{user}}.”

Outside, the wind rustled through the sakura trees. Inside, the only sound was your heart pounding.

And the faint smile tugging at Budo’s lips as he added: “So what do you say? After club tomorrow... walk home with me?”