31 - Combat Training

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My feet, driven by my impatience, were repeatedly tapping on the floor while I was casually leaning against the wall in the gym hall, my arms crossed in front of me and my eyes glued to the door.

I was in my sportswear, black shorts and a comfy t-shirt, all set and prepared to resume my combat training. Something I was more than ready to do by now, and I'd definitely would start right away if it wasn't for one thing that was still missing - or rather someone.

Yesterday, Aizawa had reluctantly agreed to train with me. He'd been a tiny weeny bit pissed because of that little paper pile mishap...or maybe because I had apologized repeatedly and continued to bug him until he'd eventually given in and assured me that he would do it. I'd even helped him to restore the paper pile's order again.

In the end, I'd still been doubtful, but when I'd demanded a pinky promise, he had that murder look on his face, which had forced me to retreat to safety - for my own good. After all, the whole vendetta project is only realizable when I'm alive.

We would train every day after school here in the gym, the one I had used to blow off my steam just days before. He had actually wanted to start next week, but I managed to convince him to begin today by simply following him like a puppy until he gave in. There was absolutely no reason to stall.

I'm really not a huge fan of waiting. The thought of how long it would probably take me to achieve some progress in my little private investigation project was ubiquitous in my head. I couldn't fade it out, although I tried my best.

For now, the most important part was to get the ball rolling. Earlier that day I had called Tsukauchi to put forward my request regarding Sugimoto. I needed to talk to him - in person. As soon as possible.

Although it had only been a phone call, it had been painfully obvious that Tsukauchi wasn't exactly delighted to hear what I had to say. He had openly expressed his concerns, stating that he couldn't and wouldn't approve of my intention to speak with that lunatic, but in the end, it was my call to make.

The detective had reluctantly provided me with the information that I would be able to talk to him in one or two weeks at the earliest. That wasn't exactly what I had wanted to hear, but it's definitely better than nothing.

My eyes unglued themselves from the door and darted to the clock hanging above the entrance. I was already waiting for twenty minutes even though I had almost arrived late.

I hope he has a damn good excuse for that.

A sigh escaped my lips. I was tired of standing around while staring off into space, coming to the conclusion that it probably wouldn't hurt to warm up a bit anyway.

I put my earbuds in, grabbed my phone, starting my playlist, and began with some stretching. My eyes closed and I completely focused on my breathing and the music while I was doing all sorts of exercises.

When I was done with a generously long-drawn set of all the exercises, I glanced to the door, hoping that my partner in crime wouldn't leave me high and dry. But there was still no sight of the gloomy sourpuss in black.

Maybe he's still pissed and just agreed to get rid of me? Well, I guess I can't blame him for that after yesterday.

To be honest, to say that I was disappointed would be an understatement. I considered us as friends by now. Aizawa was the only person next to Chiyo that knew more about me, more than the person I presented at school - even if it was only by accident. I somehow felt understood by him.

He had helped me to come up with excuses. He had supported me in uncomfortable situations. He had been there every time something had happened recently. He doesn't pry - he's simply there. Aizawa's presence was almost as soothing as Chiyo's by now, which was actually stupid because he didn't know shit about me.

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