Vigilante Slimming Scanner – Chapter 9

TORO

About three kilometers into my morning commute, I completely regret buying the bike. What was I thinking? First of all, I’m so out of shape, it’s embarrassing. I’m huffing and puffing my way up and down the street, and I’m sweating buckets of water. Not even the hundreds of stairs could prepare me for this! My heart is pounding, mostly in terror as I snake in and out of pedestrians or other bikers. I’m not sure I was cut out for a strenuous commute every day.

I arrive at the bike parking lot near work and dismount, my legs shaking and weary. How am I going to make it back home tonight? I will probably be a wreck by quitting time, and then I’ll have to turn around and head back. I lock up my bike and head into the gym, passing people lifting weights and running on treadmills. I suddenly have the urge to sit down and lift weights. I bet if I built muscle back up again, everything about getting into shape would be easier. When I lifted weights in college, I was in the best shape of my life.

Two minutes ago, I was thinking I was going to die on my bike, and now I’m fantasizing about working out even more. I can’t lift weights, though, because I have a milk run to perform. I leave my bag and clothes in a locker, get the milk, hit the stairs, pray to those bastard gods that got me into this mess that I don’t die, hand the milk to Kamiko, and walk the long way back. I can’t even run. I’m sure I would fall flat on my face if I tried. My legs are limp rubber bands.

In the locker room, I sit and cool down for a few minutes, waiting for my body temperature to normalize before I take a quick cold shower, dress, and head back out the way I came. Yeah, tomorrow, I’ll bike to work, drop off the milk, and come into the gym to lift weights before heading into the office. That sounds like an excellent plan. Let’s see how I feel about it tomorrow morning though after two trips on my bike.

“Mitsuo,” I call as I walk up to the building on wobbly legs. I normally never run into him in the morning because my usual train doesn’t get me into work for another ten minutes and he comes from Crossfit every morning. He’s chatting amiably with a fit young woman, her toned arms and legs on display. It’s her! The foreign woman who runs the stairs to Kamiko’s place! She’s not Japanese, but her smaller stature fits in with everyone around here. When I approach them, they’re both speaking in Japanese.

“Toro, wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you early for work before.”

I smile at him. If we were with other guys, I’d call him an ass and tell him to shove it, but I eye the stairs woman again. I had thought she was pretty, but she’s actually gorgeous, with little freckles across her nose, thin lips, a dimple in her right cheek, and a smirk directed at Mitsuo. I don’t want to embarrass us.

“Very funny. I biked into work this morning, so I’m early. It was definitely much faster than the train. Hi, I’m Toro.” I introduce myself to the woman, and even though I extend my hand because I believe her to be a foreigner, she bows and smiles back to me. “We’ve seen each other on the stairs a few times. I’m impressed that you always run them.”

“Oh! That’s right! I have seen you on the stairs. Always with milk. Why is that?”

“A gift for a friend. I deliver it to her daily. Her three kids drink a lot of it.”

Her gaze glides over me, appraising more than just my body. “Well, hi, I’m Mari. I know Mitsuo and his wife, Risa, from Crossfit.”

“I know him from work.”

Mitsuo glances between us. “So, Mari here has recently moved back to Japan… About three months ago?”

She nods. “I grew up here. My mom is Japanese and my dad is German, but we lived in Germany from my last high school years through university. I’m living here now.”

“Wow. That’s pretty cool you can call both countries home. Your Japanese is very good.” I shove my hand in my pocket and clench it. It’s been a long time since I met a worldly, beautiful woman I could talk to.

“I’ve spent almost my entire life speaking Japanese,” she says, giggling. “My German is pretty crappy.”

“Do you live around here?” I ask, wondering if she lives up the hill.

“Mari is a class instructor and trainer at your gym, Toro-kun,” Mitsuo says, pointing back to where I came from.

I laugh at the situation. “I would probably know that if I went to my gym on a regular basis.” I hoist my bag up on my shoulder. “But that’s about to change. I was considering coming in even earlier on my bike and then lifting weights before work.”

“You mean, the bike ride didn’t kill you? I thought you would have a heart attack on your first ride in.”

“Mitsuo-san, don’t be mean,” Mari chides him. “If you want, Toro-san, I could set up a training program for you. I’d be happy to help you out.”

I imagine myself huffing, puffing, and sweating under the keen eye of this woman and how embarrassing that would be. Any kind of manhood I had would be left at the door. But it’s not like I’m wowing the ladies right now in my present state so I don’t have a lot to lose. She’ll see me at the gym anyway.

“Really? I wouldn’t want to put you out. I have a lot of work to do.” I glance once at my belly and smirk at it, like it’s a terribly behaved child. She smiles at my self-deprecating joke.

“The hardest work is always the most worthwhile,” she says, winking at me. “I’ll be around the gym until 8pm tonight. I’m working a double shift and covering for a coworker who’s out on maternity leave. Stop by later and we’ll work out a routine for you. I promise to go easy at first.”

She bows as she backs away from us. “See you later! Mitsuo-san, I’ll see you and Risa this weekend for hiking!” She waves as she walks off in the direction of the gym. I watch her go, the bounce in her step, and her ponytail swinging side to side.

Mitsuo waves his hand in front of my face. “Someone’s in love,” he teases, and this time I punch him in the arm, nearly breaking my hand. Ow. His biceps are made of steel.

“Stop. No one falls in love at first sight. That’s such garbage. Anyway, what’s this about hiking this weekend?” I ask as we make our way inside and wait in line for the elevator.

“Hiking? You want to go hiking? You hate hiking.”

“I do. I absolutely abhor hiking, but hiking with Mari? I might be okay with that.”

“Look,” Mitsuo says, putting a hand on my shoulder and cocking a half-smile. “Do yourself a favor. Keep biking, go to the gym, and in a few weeks, when you’ve got a handle on regular exercise, you can come with us. Let’s not overdo things right out of the gate. That’s how people get injured.”

I nod my head, imagining myself hiking this weekend, overweight and out of shape, versus hiking two months from now, in better shape and possibly better friends with Mari.

“You’re right. Okay, I’ll go see her after work. Hopefully I can hire her to kick my butt twice per week on top of the biking. Because I’m not already a big enough loser.”

Mitsuo chuckles. “Good. You need a sure routine to work with, and Mari will certainly kick your butt. She can do ten pull-ups in a row and one-armed pushups. She’s stronger than Risa, even. Good luck with her.”

Instead of breaking into a nervous sweat, I smile. Things are looking up.