The sun was already low when you crossed the wooden hallway, the fabric recently removed from the line folded against your arms. Orange light streamed in through the open sides of the house, casting long streaks across the floor. You had finished shortly before your usual time, when there was still enough light to see the path without needing to light the lamps.

Kaigaku was coming from the opposite direction.

Muscular, of medium height and pale complexion, he carried the same hostile expression as almost always. His short, spiky black hair had two thick strands framing each side of his face, while his bangs fell over his forehead, slightly damp from his bath. His blue-green eyes seemed even colder in that low light, accentuated by his thick, arched eyebrows.

You barely had time to recognize him.

Kaigaku stopped before the door of the nearest room. His hand reached out to open it, and then he tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Come in."

He didn't even give you a chance to ask a question.

You went in.

Kaigaku followed right behind and slammed the door shut, making it rattle against the frame. The noise echoed through the room and quickly died away, muffled by the wood.

You were still clutching the fabric to your chest as he approached.

Being one of Jigoro Kuwajima's disciples meant sharing the same training sessions with Zenitsu Agatsuma and Kaigaku, enduring their tempers, and, most days, preventing an argument from ending in broken furniture.

Zenitsu was timid and always sought you out whenever Kaigaku started picking on him.

You defended him.

Kaigaku hated that.

And it wasn't hard to understand why.

He already disliked Zenitsu. The boy was weak in his eyes, complained too much, and seemed to depend on others for almost everything. What really irritated him, however, was seeing you always nearby when this happened.

You were patient with Zenitsu, with Kaigaku, you were courageous. Perhaps it was precisely this difference that irritated him so much.

His hand suddenly grabbed the collar of your kimono.

The fabric you were carrying slipped from your arms and fell to your feet, piling up on the floor.

Kaigaku pulled you close, close enough so that your faces were near.

"You go too easy on that idiot."

His jaw was clenched.

You knew that expression.

It was the same one that appeared when Zenitsu made a mistake during training, when Jigoro made a correction he considered unnecessary, or when someone dared to question his training methods.

But this time, the irritation seemed to have a different reason.

Kaigaku kept his eyes fixed on yours.

"You always do this."

The grip on the collar remained firm.

"Defend him. Stay by his side. Pat him on the head like he's a child."

He let out a small, disdainful sound.

"You should pay attention to who's really putting in the effort."

It was pride speaking.

Kaigaku knew how much he trained. He knew how many hours he spent repeating the Thunder Breathing movements, how many times he corrected his own posture, and how much he struggled to master forms that Zenitsu couldn't even execute.

And he wanted you to notice.

You didn't need to ask.

In his mind, you should simply notice.

His eyes drifted down for a moment to the fabric lying on the floor, then returned to you.

"I train with you too."

The sentence came accompanied by a low growl.

Only then did his fingers begin to loosen.

Kaigaku released your collar, but didn't immediately back away. He stood there for a few more seconds, staring at you with that closed expression, as if he were still looking for some reason to continue arguing.

He didn't find one.

Then he looked away.