'Friday: November 25th: 21:39:44'

It doesn’t matter who you are, or what you want.

Fitness. Money. Freedom. Happiness.

You can’t attain these just by wanting.

It’s quite the opposite. The city’s busier than it’s ever been, overstuffed with people who come wanting all of that and more.

But they’re not willing to do what it takes.

Whether or not there’s any space for you in this town depends on whether or not you’re ready to give up everything.

If you can’t hold yourself to the expectations of success…

There’s the door.

Friday

November 25th 

21:39:44

“I don’t wanna believe it…”

Five, six, seven other spotters were gathered around a rack of weights.

Between them, a barbell floated into the air.

“Eleven…” The boys chanted, equal parts exhilarated, hushed, defeated.

Up again it went, in a rhythm that only the crash of surf against a rocky seafront could hope to match, or the slow, circular thundering of a waterfall.

“One-fifty…” The last spotter to finish his own circuit and join the regulars leant over the rack, his face aghast, even though his pupils were dilated as far as they could go.
“That’s… More than my one-rep max. And this guy’s done… Eleven of ‘em?”

“New bro.”

A figure took ahold of the kid’s shoulder, before his nose could intrude upon the clean, gravity-defying arc of the next rep.

Takuya. The most chiseled of the lot, bulky enough to be the preacher and the pulpit.

“Careful.” He grinned, a far lighter lecture than the new bro was expecting. “That’s Iron Katsumada you were about to spot-fail.”

“’Iron Katsumada’…?” The kid blinked. “S-sorry, Mr. Takuya. I didn’t know you had someone like that working here.”

“Naw, he doesn’t.” The chief spotter sighed. The biceps he’d taken the pretense of folded arms to puff out on either side of him deflated, somewhat.
“Been tryin’ to get him on board, but apparently he just does this as a hobby.”

“A— Hobby?!” The kid grew more incredulous with each new take.

It was understandable. The figure on the bench belonged in some kind of league or magazine, surely not in a cramped little neighbourhood gym that was as home to teams of grandmas as it was the Keio University Bodybuilding Club, of which this ‘Iron Katsumada’ was not a member.

“Thirteen…”

Yet the others were practically stuck to him, their eyes latched to every press like it was a miracle.

“—Ain’t that right, Katsumada?” Takuya joshed, even as the figure pushed into the next rep. “Still doin’ that business launch, whatever it is?”

The man glanced up, his face a relief carved out of a great cliff made of focus.

“Yeah.” He said. “It’s in the new year.”

“Ah, course. You doin’ supplements?”

“F-fifteen!” The spotters cried, as he pushed the barbell upright.

He held it there.

“Just marketing. Also, Takuya…”

Bzzzzt. A phone went off, ready to slip off its still-sweaty perch on the seat of the neighbouring machine.

“—Shoot, that’s right!” Takuya sped over to check. “Time to go, bros! We gotta get ready for that mixer. I wanna see showers this time, boys, showers. Got it?!”

In unison, the young men all turned to the bench, and bowed.

“We’re departing, sir.”

Not even the new kid missed a beat.

“Guys…” Takuya sighed. “—He’s not a gang boss, y’know.”

“…Yeah.” The figure replied. “See you guys.”

“Wrap it up, champs!” Takuya clapped his hands. “Katsumada’s a busy man. Plus, the ladies are waiting!”

The spotters filed together in front of the front door, readying up to leave.

“—Man, I’m so hungry. Good thing I’m on a bulk…”

“—It’s cold!”

“—You didn’t wipe off your sweat, dummy. Don’t be a wimp!”

Takuya looked back, readying a wave even as he jogged after his cohort. “Offer’s always open if you wanna join, buddy! I’ll try to pretend I don’t mind you stealing a girl or five when the time comes, if it means I finally get to see ya’ take a load off!”

“Thanks…” Iron Katsumada nodded. “…See you.”

“Hoo! It’s cold, ain’t it, boys?” The trainer joined the troop, and led them on their way past the dark glass curtains at the front of the gym.

“Don’t remind me, Mr. Takuya…”

The automatic doors began rolling, bringing the boister of the amateur bodybuilders’ performance to a close. The only sounds remaining to mask the silence in the gym were the faint pulse of pop music, the whir of climate control, and the slight, ever so slight, but increasing shudder of weights on a bar.

Apparently, none of the young spotters, nor even Takuya himself had noticed.

Caught up in the excitement of their next destination, or perhaps none of them could bring themselves to see past the sculpted surface of the man lifting among them.
Maybe it was just that he never spoke up.

Why? Why hadn’t he just spoken up?

It didn’t exactly matter now, because the gym was, with all certainty, empty.

Naoki Katsumada was without a spotter, as he lay there under the barbells, unmoving.

Five seconds went by. Then, ten.

It was no use.

Stuck…

It was the nightmare of every bodybuilder. Not that Naoki knew.
A hundred-and-fifteen kilograms was by no means a world record, but it could crush a skull, or a throat if things went badly.
Of that much, he was aware.

He still had enough in him to bring the bar down safely. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was, he still hadn’t finished his last rep.

It was simple. He had promised himself sixteen. He had written it in his planner. Those were the expectations he had set for himself.

If sixteen reps cost him his arms, he would do sixteen reps.
If sixteen reps cost him his life, he would do sixteen reps.
If the world would end afterwards, he would do sixteen reps.

But his expectations weren’t helping. In fact, he only felt them crushing him, along with the weight of a mountain of items in his to-do list that seemed to possess the barbell on top of him.

That’s right. He still had videos he needed to publish for overseas, and none of the editing was done.
He still had spreadsheets to update, along with sales pages, mailing lists.
And a bunch of preparatory reading for meetings, in the morning…

There were fewer things he wanted to think about less.

It was Friday. That meant the newest chapter of Cute Escape would be out. That made him ten chapters behind now, after devouring the first ten in a moment of weakness, and he hadn’t had time to read since.
He wasn’t going to have time tonight either, at this rate.

The barbell sensed Naoki’s despondence. It began to press down, overwhelming the stalemate. It began to win.

I knew it was too soon to try this much weight…

But he refused to give in to it. His brain was starved of oxygen, and his biceps had become two fleshy containers for armaggedon.
He was running to the end of his endurance, to the point where the bar really was going to come plummeting and turn one of his vital spots concave.

But he had to finish this rep. Otherwise…

It was Friday. What was more, it was the last Friday of the month.

And that meant… Today was his cheat day.

Not just a portion, like every other Friday. Today, Naoki could allow himself a whole meal of whatever his heart desired.

Rice. Onigiri. Ramen, yakisoba, even. He could eat nothing but cookies and ice cream if he wanted, and he had, some months back.

But there was a rule. He could only do all that…

If he finished everything on his workout schedule first.

Meanwhile, the barbell only continued to sink. Naoki’s elbows were slowly bowing, a few inches, a few moments away from buckling inwards.

There was more sweat than skin covering his body. And, despite how soaked he was, there was more of him than not that felt like it was on fire.

There wouldn’t be a sixteenth rep ever again, if he gave in to the flood of relief that was beckoning, on just the other side of the moment the bar touched down.

What’s… It gonna be… Katsumada?

With every fibre of his being, he decided.

Tonight, he would eat some fried chicken if it was the last goddamn thing he did.

¥¥¥

Should I… Go with a skewer set?

Naoki lay flat on the mats, staring up at the mineral-fibre ceiling.

First, he had to get up. But for now it was all he could do to curl up, grasping his ravaged biceps, trying not to cry.

He wasn’t sure what had come over him. The moment the golden, crispy milestone had entered his view, the weight of the barbell inverted. Like it suddenly wanted to be pumped skyward, it let the man lift it, jumping upright into a clean, a jerk, lifting the full weight of the thing up past his head.

He span, and slammed the bar into the rack like he was dunking a basketball at a children’s birthday party, and that had been it.

Uuuuuu…

Next thing he knew, he was down here.

A spread of cutlets sounds good, too…

Still on his side, he began mopping the mats around him clean, perhaps in a bid not to seem so pathetic to the cameras of the gym that he could somehow feel watching him.

Leaving no trace of himself behind, somehow Naoki made it to the door. A toasty tractor beam of climate-controlled air hovered at the glass entrance, all that lay between him and the chill.

He rubbed his shoulders, which felt like they would fall off any moment, snuggling into the less-than-insulating blazer jacket he’d brought with him.

No.

I could eat a whole bucket.

Depending on what the convenience store was stocked with, Naoki was ready and willing to bear the cold, and the smell of concrete and mildew, the somewhat offputting atmosphere of the dim alleyway ahead.

The bulb flickered. He didn’t even notice a figure waiting, huddled against the wall halfway down.

Not until it was too late.

Not until she’d already stepped out, bare, pale shoulders exposed, waves of dark, silky, tangled curls running into the furry hood of her parka, only to overflow behind her.

There she stood in the middle of the alley, looking at him with eyes that held a rare focus.

Just like Naoki’s.

He was stunned. Too lost in conflicting momentums to do anything but freeze.

He could see his breath. He could see hers, as she held herself out to him, in a silken vest, and half her jacket around her waist.

“Hey…” The girl called. “Muscly… Guy. D’you wanna have a good time?”

Even had he the space in his brain to fumble for a response, she couldn’t afford to give him time.

Another veil of mist parted around her eyes, and she was upon him.

The mist curled around Naoki’s jaw, as the girl leant into his chest, penetrating the impenetrable with fingertips cold as ice, and then warm, as her palms made contact.

“I won’t ask for much.” The girl said.

“…In return for what?” He finally managed to respond.

She raised her eyes to him. In them, he could see a pause, a depth, like she was staring something of hers into him.

Whatever it was that made her quiet, she pushed through.

“Anything… Anything you want.” She said.