บท 2: Moments of Quiet
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the subtle scent of baked goods, filling the warm atmosphere of the quaint Tokyo café. Soft jazz played in the background, providing a soothing soundtrack to the hushed conversations around them. Catherine sat by the window, her fingers curled around a steaming cup of green tea, eyes gazing absentmindedly at the bustling street outside.
She watched as people hurried along the sidewalk, each absorbed in their own world. The neon signs were beginning to flicker to life, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the damp pavement. Raindrops tapped gently against the glass, mirroring the persistent rhythm of her thoughts.
"You're miles away," a familiar voice remarked.
Catherine turned to see Akira sliding into the seat across from her. His tousled black hair and easy smile brought a sense of familiarity that she didn't often feel. He set down his gym bag, the logo of their dojo emblazoned on the side.
"Sorry," she replied, offering a faint smile. "Just thinking."
"About the fight?" Akira asked, flagging down a waiter. "Or something else?"
"A bit of both," she admitted."You're early," she remarked, sliding into the seat across from him.
Akira looked at her, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I could say the same about you. I half-expected you'd be at the gym cooling down."
"Not tonight," she replied, glancing briefly at the menu before setting it aside. "I needed a change of scenery."
A waitress approached, and Catherine ordered a green tea. Akira watched her thoughtfully, noting the slight tension in her shoulders and the distant look in her eyes.
"You fought well today," he began, choosing his words carefully.
Catherine shrugged lightly. "A win is a win."
"Is that all it is to you?" Akira leaned forward, his gaze steady. "You seemed... different out there... More hesitant than usual. Is everything okay?"
She met his eyes for a moment before looking away, tracing the grain of the wooden table with her fingertip.
Akira waited, giving her space to continue if she chose. The silence stretched between them, comfortable yet heavy with unspoken thoughts. The waitress returned with her tea, and Catherine wrapped her hands around the warm cup, allowing the steam to brush against her face.
She still hasn't answered. She considered denying it but decided against it. "I don't know. For a moment, it felt... empty. Like I was on autopilot."
Akira nodded thoughtfully. "You've been pushing yourself hard. Maybe it's catching up with you."
"Routine is essential," she recited instinctively, echoing her father's mantra. "Discipline keeps us sharp."
"Discipline is important," he agreed, "but so is passion. Without it, what's the point?"
She looked down at her reflection in the tea's surface, distorted and wavy. "Do you ever feel like you're just... going through the motions?"
"Sometimes," he said candidly. "But that's when I try something new. Break the routine."
Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Break the routine? That doesn't sound like you. You've been working in the dojo for years, you wear the same jacket every time we meet, it's been 2 years since Marika and you started dating and I haven't seen you with another haircut since we met in college ! "
"It's 'One year and 8 months', she makes sure I always remember the date we met ! And my hairs are a little longer now, look !" Akira said with a smirk.
After a brief silence, they both burst into laughter. He gave her a gentle look
"Seriously though, it's okay to shake things up. It might be good for you.", he said thoughtfully.
She exhaled softly. "Yeah... Lately, I feel like there this void I'm trying to fill, but nothing seems to fit."
"Is that why you fight?" he asked. "To fill that void?"
Catherine took a sip of her tea, her expression pensive. "I fight because it's what I've always done. It's expected."
"By whom?"
She looked up, her eyes reflecting a mixture of confusion and frustration. "By myself. By... others."
Akira nodded slowly.
"It keeps me focused," she countered, though her tone lacked conviction.
"Perhaps," he conceded. "But it's okay to question it. To seek out what you truly want."
Akira leaned forward slightly. "You know, if there's anything you want to talk about, I'm here. Doesn't have to be about training."
Her gaze flickered to his, searching for any sign of pity or ulterior motive, but found none—just genuine concern. "Thank you," she said softly. "I'll keep that in mind."
The waiter arrived with Akira's order, placing a latte art masterpiece before him. He took a cautious sip, sighing contentedly. "Ah, that's good. I understand why you like it so much."
"It's the best of Tokyo. And the only one I tried", she said.
They both smile, then he took another sip. She seems in peace, watching him slowly drinking his latte.
"You know... it was great. What you did for that girl after the match. The photos, the autographs. You should do it more often !"
"Do what ? Sign autographs ? Take photos ? Grow a fanbase ? Maybe open a Pinstagram account and post clips of my victories ?" she said with irony. "I'm not so weak as to crave attention."
"Being strong doesn't mean shutting people out," he gently countered. "Sometimes it takes more strength to let others in. That goes for your fans, and everyone else."
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small object—a carefully folded origami crane. She placed it on the table between them.
"Opening to people... I wouldn't know where to start."
"Maybe by having dinner with a friend who isn't discussing training regimens," he suggested with a grin.
She tilted her head. "Are you asking me out, Coach?"
"Oh my ! Don't say it out loud ! Marika could hear you from the other side of Tokyo and make a scene. You're talented but you're no match for her. She'll kick your ass and mine too !"
Once again, they both burst into laughter. After a few seconds, Catherine stirred her tea, her expression tinged with melancholy. "Yeah… That's where we are…"
Akira felt as if he were losing her. Pointing to the origami crane, he said, "I suppose if you teach me how to make this, it would only be fair to take you out to dinner."
A genuine smile spread across her face, reaching her eyes. "I'd like that."
"Great. There's a new place that opened up nearby. We could—"
A melody interrupted him—a cheerful tune emanating from her phone. Catherine glanced at the screen: a message from her father.
"Everything okay?" Akira asked, noticing her expression change.
She dismissed the notification. "Yes. Just a reminder."
"From?"
"Work," she lied smoothly. "They always need something."
He didn't press further. "Well, don't let them monopolize your time. Life is happening out here."
"Is that another piece of wisdom you're passing down?" she teased.
"Just an observation," he replied, sipping his latte. "One fighter to another."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching as the rain began to let up. The city lights reflected off the wet streets, casting a shimmering glow.
He glanced at his watch. "I should probably get going. Early session tomorrow."
"Of course," she agreed, standing up. "Thank you for meeting me."
"Anytime," he assured her, picking up the origami crane and handing it back to her. "Don't forget this."
She took it carefully. "Actually, keep it. Consider it a token of appreciation."
He smiled, slipping the crane into his jacket pocket. "I'll treasure it."
They stepped outside, the cool air crisp after the rain. The scent of damp earth and pavement filled their senses.
"Let me walk you to the station," he offered.
She nodded, and they fell into step together. The city was alive around them—vendors reopening their stalls, couples strolling arm in arm, the distant sound of a street musician playing a melancholic tune.
As they reached the station entrance, Akira turned to her. "Take care of yourself, Catherine. And remember, my door is always open."
"Thank you," she replied sincerely. "For everything."
He gave a small wave before disappearing into the crowd. Catherine watched until he was out of sight, a subtle warmth spreading in her chest.
She stood there for a moment, contemplating. Then, instead of descending into the station, she decided to walk. The city seemed different tonight—less imposing, more inviting.
Her footsteps echoed softly as she meandered through the side streets. Passing by a park, she heard laughter and saw families enjoying the evening. The sight stirred something within her—a blend of sorrow and yearning. As she turned to head home, a lightness accompanied her steps. It was faint, like the first glimmer of dawn after a long night, but it was there.
Maybe, just maybe, it was time to start letting others in.
---
Upon reaching her apartment, Catherine shrugged off her damp coat and tidied it away. She moved to the window, gazing out at the city skyline. Lights stretched in every direction, each representing lives intertwined in ways she had yet to experience.
Her phone buzzed, pulling her attention. Expecting another "work reminder", she was surprised to see a message from Akira.
"Made it home. Don't forget about dinner—no talk of training allowed. Sleep well."
A small smile touched her lips. She typed back, "Looking forward to it. Good night."
Setting the phone aside, she felt the weight of the day settle. But instead of the usual emptiness, there was a hint of something else—anticipation.
She approached the small table where another origami crane rested, the paper slightly worn from years of handling. Picking it up gingerly, she traced the folds with her fingertips.
"One thousand cranes for a wish," she murmured.
Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability.
"I wish..." The words caught in her throat. What did she wish for? Happiness? Purpose? Connection? Perhaps all of them.
Exhaling softly, she placed the crane back on the table. For the first time in a long while, she felt the stirrings of hope.
Preparing for bed, Catherine reflected on the day's events—the fight, the conversation with Akira, the decision to walk through the city. Each was a small step toward something new, something unknown.
As she lay down, the sounds of the city lulled her. Sleep came easier than usual, unburdened by the restless thoughts that often plagued her.
In the quiet of her room, Catherine began to dream—not of fights or routines, but of possibilities.
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
-- การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
-- หินพลัง