The door to the gym opened.
Slow, loud footsteps resounded behind me as I went down to the ground and pushed myself back up.
"Light.'
The footsteps came closer and a sound rang out.
"T-Three hundred kilos?!"
Ah, so 650 pounds added up to three hundred kilos? The conversion sure was a pain in the ass, but it seemed this guy could do it easily. What even was the conversion like? I didn't bother with inferior measurements so I didn't care.
Still, it was too light.
"Wow," the owner of the footsteps leaned lower and peered at my face from above. For some reason, I could feel deep annoyance filling me.
"You know, for someone as pretty as you are, you sure are a muscle freak."
"It's light," I complained to the man. "If you're going to blabber, why don't you get me more weights?"
"More? I can probably lift it."
Saying that, the man moved to the racks and stacked up another three hundred kilos of weights.
"Yes, do that ten times."
"Ten!? I can't lift that shit."
He pushed one stack up, which already brought the weights to a height where he would have to jump high to place more.
I gazed up. It seemed the man was looking at me and smiling. Or was he? I couldn't tell.
"In that case, should I just sit on your back?"
"Sure," I said.
The man smiled and grabbed another stack of weights before he kicked off my back and jumped up. He placed the stack over the previous stack and fluidly sat atop it all, adding his weight to my workout.
I went down again, and my hands felt just a tinge of strain to pull back up. I smiled, if I could just do this a couple thousand times I'll be able to work my arms out.
The man sitting atop me flailed his legs for a few seconds before speaking up.
"Isn't it too late to be working out?"
"998… 999…"
"Hey, I asked something man."
"It is, what of it? 1007… 1008…"
"Well, for me. I just came here because this place is nostalgic."
What a blabbermouth. Who asked this guy anything?
"You know, I used to come to a gym long ago and spend time with a quiet friend."
"Tsk."
"Come to think of it, I used to sit on his back just like this…"
Sit on the back, huh?
"Your friend seems interesting."
"He is! He really is!" The blabbermouth slapped the weights as he laughed. "I tell you what, he was once asked out by this really pretty girl that everyone called a princess, and guess what he did? He challenged her to a fist fight! Hahah!"
What the heck? What kind of weirdo does that? I take back what I said about him being interesting.
"And, and…" the blabbermouth continued. "We all used to line up for lunch back in the day. And this guy, he despised being in lines."
"As he should. Only losers get in line. You're either the first, or you're in the line."
"Yeah, exactly that!" The blabbermouth nodded. "So, right. So, this idiot would just camp out in front of the cafeteria so that no one could come before him! And, well, when that didn't work, he started hunting everyone who would get lunch down, but always smacked random people! What a doofus hahah!"
I kept performing my pushups, my heart felt slightly warm at this man's words. He was a blabbermouth nonetheless, but in a world where I couldn't listen to BRADIO while pulling some weights, this nostalgic spiel was quite welcome.
"He must've been a good guy."
"He was. I miss him."
"What happened?" I asked, the longing in his voice not hidden even from someone like me.
"He died. Stabbed straight through the stomach before being burnt up. He died while trying his best to save me, though."
People died. It was natural.
I hadn't thought much of it before. Heck, if someone had said the same thing to me all those years back, I would have only nodded.
"I am sorry to hear that."
"Don't be."
But now, I said something different.
And then, something I didn't expect continued on.
"I had a friend too…" I said.
The sight of a person flashed in my mind. A faceless friend, but a friend nonetheless.
I didn't dare to acknowledge someone as my friend back then, but now, I was even calling people my family.
"I never saw him again after an incident, but well… I hope that blabbermouth is doing fine."
"Ah… That's rough."
"Is it? I don't know. He used to be annoying. Such a strong guy, yet too much of a pushover. He used to get bullied all the time."
"Oh? That's… rare."
"It is. He was at the top of the class. Always used to surpass even me in terms of pure skill, yet, that guy would be beaten up by any rando at the end of the day. He never used his strength, just accepting all hits with a smile."
"Naive."
"I agree. Too naive. Yet, that naivety wasn't all that bad."
"He must've been too good a guy."
"He was. I miss him."
The man on the weights leaned back and I continued. Finally after reaching the nine-thousand mark, I was starting to feel the heaviness of the weights.
We stayed in silence for a while.
A silence that both of us seemed to have felt the need to end, lest we drown in our thoughts.
And so.
"My friend was right. You don't need to care about others"
"My friend was right. You need to care about others"
'Don't need,' He said.
The two of us stopped.
And then, at once, we met each other's gaze.
"You…"
"Hah…" the man smirked. His hands trembling, he pointed at me.
Realization dawned as my eyes widened.
All those incidents.
The lunch line. The school girl. The death… dragon…
"Yujin Han?"
"Albert Wessler?"
***
A/n: My most awaited chapter yet. For those wondering, the original Eugene was Korean and the original Albert was born in Switzerland with Scottish origins. Also, sorry for the shameless plug, but do read my other novel, This Hero is Sleeping if you want to laugh and have your heart pound. It's on pretty interesting events for now and since its free, you can't sue me if you die laughing.
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