My Romance Life System-Chapter 198: Thursday Adjustments

Ruby was still sick. Jake brought her soup from the dining hall, but she couldn’t keep it down.

"This is miserable."

"The health center said it’s going around campus."

"That doesn’t make me feel better."

Kofi and Nina stopped by with class notes and homework assignments.

"You look terrible."

"Thanks. Very helpful."

She was pale and shivering despite three blankets. Her roommate had temporarily moved out to avoid infection.

"Anything you need?"

"A new immune system."

"Fresh out of those."

They stayed for a few minutes but Ruby clearly wanted to sleep.

Outside her dorm, Jake looked worried.

"She never gets sick."

"Everyone gets sick sometimes."

"Not Ruby. She has perfect attendance in everything."

"Maybe this is her body forcing her to rest."

"That’s not how biology works."

"It’s how stress works though."

Jake considered this. "She has been pushing herself. Extra courses, the tournament planning, saying goodbye to Yuna."

"So maybe a few sick days aren’t the worst thing."

At the student union, they ran into David from the kendo team.

"Captain, we have a problem."

"What now?"

"Three team members want to quit. They say without Yuna, there’s no point continuing."

"That’s ridiculous."

"That’s what I told them."

"Who wants to quit?"

David named three intermediate members who’d joined recently.

"I’ll talk to them."

"Today?"

"At practice."

The afternoon practice was tense. The three potential quitters were clustered together, clearly having made a pact.

"I heard some of you are thinking about leaving."

They looked uncomfortable but defiant.

"Yuna’s gone. Ren’s gone. The program’s not the same."

"You’re right. It’s not the same. It’s ours now. We get to decide what it becomes."

"But they were the best fighters."

"And they left to become better. That’s what this program teaches. Growth, development, moving forward."

"It’s not as intense without them."

"Then we make it intense. We push each other. We don’t need Yuna’s approval or Ren’s example. We have our own standards."

One of them looked less certain. "But who leads advanced training?"

"I do. With help from Tanaka-sensei and visiting instructors."

"You’re not as experienced as them."

"No. But I’m here. They’re not."

The conversation continued for twenty minutes. By the end, two of the three agreed to stay. The third left anyway.

"We’re losing people."

"We’re losing people who were here for the wrong reasons."

After practice, Kofi stayed to train alone. The empty dojo felt too large.

’This is what leadership actually is. Not winning fights or giving speeches. Just showing up when others leave.’

Nina found him there an hour later.

"You missed dinner."

"Wasn’t hungry."

"Liar."

She’d brought sandwiches from the campus shop.

"Team troubles?"

"We lost another member today."

"Who?"

He told her about the conversation and the quitter.

"Maybe it’s natural selection. The committed stay, the casual leave."

"We need numbers though. The program requires minimum enrollment."

"Then recruit new people."

"It’s mid-semester. Not exactly prime recruiting time."

"So make it prime recruiting time. Open classes for beginners. Demonstrations for curious students."

"That’s a lot of work."

"Everything we do is a lot of work."

She was right. They ate sandwiches in the empty dojo, planning recruitment strategies.

"We could partner with the wellness center. Market kendo as stress relief."

"That’s not really what it is."

"It could be part of what it is."

Kofi’s phone buzzed. Message from Yuna: "First day of real training. Everything hurts. Teachers don’t speak English. Using translator app constantly. Miss arguing with you about form."

He showed Nina.

"She definitely misses us."

"She misses having people who understand her."

"Same thing."

They walked home as the campus settled into its nighttime rhythm. Study groups in the library, parties starting in dorms, couples walking hand in hand.

"Did you ever think our life would be this complicated?"

"When?"

"Freshman year. When everything was simple."

"Nothing was simple freshman year. We just didn’t know it yet."

At home, they found a package at their door. No return address.

"That’s suspicious."

Kofi opened it carefully. Inside was a book about traditional Japanese sword techniques and a note: "Thought you might want to study the competition. - Ren"

"He sent this from Japan?"

"The postmark is from California."

"He sent it before he left and timed the delivery?"

"That’s very Ren."

They looked through the book together. Complex diagrams and descriptions in Japanese with English translations.

"This is advanced stuff."

"He thinks you’re ready for it."

"Or he wants me to feel inadequate."

"Also possible."

They got ready for bed. Tomorrow was Friday, which meant the campus paper production day for Nina and recruitment planning for Kofi.

"We should check on Ruby tomorrow."

"Jake’s with her."

"Still. She needs to know people care."

"You’re very maternal lately."

"Someone has to be. Our group is falling apart."

"It’s not falling apart. It’s evolving."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it keeps being true."

Friday arrived gray and rainy. The kind of weather that made everyone move slower.

Ruby was feeling better but still weak.

"I can attend afternoon classes."

"You can barely stand up."

"I can sit in class."

"Ruby, you need to rest."

"I’ve already missed two days."

"The semester is long. Two days won’t matter."

But Ruby insisted on attending her art history seminar. Jake walked her there and back, carrying her books.

"She’s stubborn."

"It’s part of her charm."

At lunch, their table felt slightly more normal with Ruby back, even if she was only eating crackers.

"Yuna sent photos of her dorm room. It’s tiny."

The photos showed a space barely large enough for a bed and desk.

"That’s basically a closet."

"Tokyo real estate is expensive."

"Still. She went from a full apartment to that?"

"She went for the training, not the accommodations."

Kevin from the newspaper joined them.

"Nina, the advisor wants to see you about the editor application."

"Now?"

"Soon as possible."

Nina left with Kevin. Kofi watched them go, wondering if she’d get the position.

"She’ll get it. She’s the obvious choice."

"Nothing’s obvious in university politics."

After lunch, Kofi met with the wellness center coordinator about partnership possibilities.

"Martial arts for stress relief? That seems contradictory."

"Physical activity reduces stress. Disciplined practice provides structure and control."

"Our students need that."

"Everyone needs that."

They discussed logistics. Free introductory classes, wellness credits for participation, joint marketing.

"This could work. Submit a formal proposal and we’ll review it next week."

Small progress, but progress nonetheless.

That evening, Nina returned with news.

"I got it. Editor-in-chief starting next semester."

"That’s amazing!"

"It’s terrifying. Kevin’s leaving huge shoes to fill."

"You’ll fill them differently."

"With smaller feet."

"With your own style."

They celebrated with takeout from the good Chinese place, the one that was slightly too expensive for regular meals.

"To Nina Shaw, future newspaper magnate."

"To staying local and building something real."

They ate and talked about her plans for the paper. More investigative work, better campus coverage, actual fact-checking.

"Kevin means well but he lets too much slide."

"You’ll be a strict editor."

"I’ll be a good editor. There’s a difference."

After dinner, they sat together reading. Nina was already reviewing the paper’s budget and circulation numbers. Kofi was working through Ren’s book, trying to understand the complex techniques.

"We’re very boring."

"What?"

"Friday night, sitting at home reading work materials. We’re boring."

"We’re focused."

"On being boring."

"Would you rather be at a party?"

Nina considered this. "No. But I feel like we should want to be at a party."

"Why?"

"Because that’s what college students do."

"We’re not typical college students."

"No. We’re definitely not."

They read until their eyes got tired. Then they went to bed, another quiet Friday night in their increasingly adult lives.

"Do you think Yuna’s sleeping right now?"

"It’s afternoon in Tokyo."

"Right. Time zones."

"She’s probably training."

"Or eating. She sent a message about the food being different."

"Different how?"

"Healthier. Less fried stuff."

"She’ll adapt."

"Yeah."

They fell asleep to the sound of rain against the windows. Tomorrow would be Saturday, which meant weekend training and catching up on homework.

Their lives had settled into new patterns without Yuna. Not better or worse, just different.

The adjustment period was ongoing, but they were managing it day by day.