Narita Brian(I)

I was walking down the central corridor when a girl approached me with a friendly expression. I stopped, greeted her politely, and tried to maintain my composure.

—You're Narita Brian's coach, right? They say you're very dedicated... and quite handsome too.

I felt a slight warmth on my face and my words began to come out more slowly than normal. —Ah… yes, well… I try to do my job as best as I can.

She seemed to notice I wanted to keep talking, so she started asking more questions: what my routine was like, how I worked with the girls, if it was difficult to train someone as strong as Narita. I answered, but each sentence took more effort than necessary.

Then, almost as if he had been watching from the beginning, Narita Brian appeared beside me. He said nothing at first, just positioned himself slightly in front of me, as if drawing an invisible line.

"My coach is consistent," he finally said, looking at the girl . "He knows exactly what he's doing. He doesn't need to embellish anything."

The girl opened her eyes, surprised that Narita answered so directly, but listened attentively.

Narita continued speaking, firm and precise, describing my methods without exaggeration, but with the confidence that only someone who trusts their coach could show.

When she finished, the girl thanked everyone, satisfied, and said goodbye with a smile before leaving.

Narita let out a soft sigh. "You speak better when you're calm," he said, without looking at me . "With women... you get a little complicated."

—It's not quite like that…

She gave me a sidelong glance, cold but with a barely visible glint of mockery. -If you say so.

He started walking and added:

–Next time, if you find it difficult to answer, just give me a sign. I don't want you to get stuck in your own words.

I couldn't help but smile. Narita didn't raise her voice, she didn't exaggerate, she didn't make a scene; but she was always there, silently covering for me.