Am I The Only Male Tenant Here?

Shiraishi-senpai efficiently ran through today's training agenda with the team before leading them into their warm-up routine. Watching her

Shiraishi-senpai efficiently ran through today's training agenda with the team before leading them into their warm-up routine. Watching her take command with that natural authority never got old—she had this way of making even the most grueling exercises seem achievable.

She's grown so much as a captain. When I first started helping out, she was good but uncertain. Now she's commanding the pool like a general leading troops.

After weeks of both land-based and underwater training, the girls had finally mastered the technique of treading water while carrying weights. It was honestly impressive to watch their progression from struggling beginners to confident athletes.

My supervision definitely played a role in this transformation. All those hours explaining techniques from instructional videos, catching and correcting form errors before they became bad habits—it's paying off big time.

I patrolled the pool deck like a proper coach, my eyes constantly scanning for any issues that needed immediate attention.

"Excellent form! Keep it exactly like that!"

"Kurizono-san, your body's tilting slightly to the left—you'll lose balance fast if you don't correct that!"

"Everyone hold on just a little longer! Five minutes is almost up!"

The encouragement seems to be working. I can see them pushing through the fatigue, drawing strength from the praise.

The girls were struggling with the weighted treading exercise, their faces showing the strain, but their determination was absolutely inspiring. The way they supported each other, the way they refused to give up—this was what real team spirit looked like.

If they keep improving at this rate, the upcoming tournament might actually be within reach.

"Time's up! Everyone out of the pool for a rest break!"

"That was incredible performance from all of you! You pushed through like champions!"

As the team members climbed out of the pool one by one, I had to consciously redirect my attention to coaching-appropriate thoughts.

But damn, it was hard to ignore the way their wet swimsuits clung to their athletic bodies, water droplets catching the light as they moved. The combination of exhaustion and accomplishment on their faces, mixed with the way the fabric emphasized every curve...

No. Bad thoughts. I'm here as a mentor and coach, not as a teenage boy with overactive hormones.

Even if the view is absolutely spectacular.

"How about it, Ginjo-san? The team members have made remarkable progress, don't you think?" Shiraishi-senpai said as she toweled off the water droplets, her voice filled with unmistakable pride.

She's glowing with satisfaction. Seeing her players succeed like this—it's what she lives for.

"Honestly, I didn't expect them to reach this level in just a few weeks," I replied, genuinely impressed by what we'd accomplished together.

The combination of her leadership and my technical guidance has created something special here.

The encouragement seemed to supercharge the girls for the remainder of training. They not only exceeded the requirements Shiraishi-senpai had set but started attempting advanced techniques they'd never practiced before

When athletes get into that flow state where they're pushing their own boundaries... that's when magic happens.

Two hours flew by in what felt like minutes. The contrast between now and those early training sessions was stark—instead of the helplessness and exhaustion that had characterized their first attempts, the girls' faces now radiated joy and genuine satisfaction.

After Shiraishi-senpai changed out of her swimsuit and said goodbye to the team, it was time for my medical appointment.

Moment of truth. Either I get this annoying fixator removed today, or I'm stuck with it for another few weeks.

The familiar routine at the hospital felt almost nostalgic by now—same procedures, same imaging department for X-rays, same office with the same balding doctor.

At least this time his expression looks optimistic when he's examining the films.

"Excellent recovery," he said, nodding approvingly at the X-ray images. "Even faster than I anticipated. The resilience of youth never fails to amaze me."

The way he touched the top of his head while saying that... poor guy's definitely reminiscing about his own younger days when he had hair.

He gestured for me to follow him to the treatment room for the fixator removal, while Shiraishi-senpai—playing her role as my "family member" perfectly—waited outside with that patient expression that made my chest tight with affection.

She's taking this whole supportive girlfriend role very seriously. Not that I'm complaining.

After all the medical procedures were completed, we returned to his office for the final evaluation.

"How does it feel now?" he asked.

I experimented with making a fist, then isolated the movement to just my formerly injured middle finger.

"Feels pretty good," I reported honestly. "There's a slight numbness, but nothing that seems concerning."

"If you experience any discomfort going forward, contact me immediately," he instructed while updating my medical records.

"Understood. Thank you, doctor."

Seeing my complete recovery, Shiraishi-senpai's happiness was infectious and absolutely adorable.

"Come on, Ginjo-kun, let's get some food. I'm not making the same mistake as last time," she declared with determination.

She's still feeling guilty about letting me go hungry that afternoon. The fact that she's been thinking about it all this time...

We headed to a nearby chain restaurant that specialized in Japanese-style hamburger steaks—one of those established places that had perfected their signature dish over decades.

The grilled, tender patties with that perfect juice-to-char ratio, served with rice, cheese, and their special sauce... my mouth is already watering.

"I'm so relieved that your finger has completely healed, Ginjo-san," she said while watching me demonstrate my restored range of motion. "I've felt guilty about this whole situation."

"You were still worried about it? Well, now you can see there's absolutely nothing to worry about," I said, wiggling my fingers with exaggerated flexibility to prove the point.

"Yes, now I can finally relax completely."

After our meal, Shiraishi-senpai caught a taxi while I took the train back to the apartment, already anticipating whatever "celebration" Tomoko had planned for the evening.

When dinner time arrived, I was fully energized and practically bouncing as I knocked on Tomoko's door.

Time to see what kind of celebration she's got planned.

"Ah, Sousuke-kun! Welcome back. How did the follow-up examination go?" she asked with that concerned expression that never failed to make me feel cared for.

"Everything went perfectly, Tomoko. The finger is completely healed and the fixator is officially removed," I announced, holding up my newly liberated hand for inspection.

"That's wonderful, Sousuke-kun! Now we can celebrate properly!"

When I entered her room, the sight that greeted me was absolutely spectacular.

Holy shit. She really went all out.

The table was loaded with what looked like a full restaurant spread—croquettes, fried chicken, vegetable salad, sushi, and probably a dozen other dishes I couldn't immediately identify.

"Tomoko, you've prepared so much!" I said, genuinely overwhelmed by the effort she'd put in.

"Oh, that's not everything, Sousuke-kun," she replied with a mysterious smile. "There's also a homemade cream cake that still needs finishing touches."

Homemade cream cake. Of course there is. Because apparently she's trying to spoil me to death.

She turned back toward the kitchen to work on the final details, and I watched in fascination as she carefully adjusted the cake's decoration.

The concentration on her face when she's cooking... there's something incredibly attractive about watching someone perfect their craft.

She picked up a small amount of cream on her finger to taste-test it, then slowly brought that cream-covered digit to her mouth.

The way she closed her lips around her finger, the small sound of satisfaction she made when tasting the cream, the slight flutter of her eyelashes...

"Tomoko, you've got some on your lip," I managed to say, my voice slightly rougher than intended.

When she realized what I meant, she used her tongue to carefully clean the remaining cream from the corner of her mouth, the pink tip darting out to catch every last trace.

Once the cake was finished and dinner was properly set up, we took our seats at the dining table. Tomoko-san produced drinks and filled two glasses with ceremony.

"Today, we celebrate the complete recovery of Sousuke-kun's finger. Cheers!" she declared, raising her glass.

"Thank you for everything, Tomoko. Cheers!" I replied, clinking my glass against hers.

"Please, try everything I prepared today."

"I'm going to start now," I said formally before diving into the incredible spread she'd created.

The croquette was the perfect combination of crispy exterior and creamy, flavorful interior—mashed potatoes mixed with meat in a way that created something greater than the sum of its parts.

The fried chicken was impossibly crispy, the salad provided the perfect refreshing contrast, and the variety of sushi offered flavors I didn't even know existed.

My appetite was definitely responding to my improved mood. Good food tastes even better when you're genuinely happy.

After working through most of the feast, I had to retreat to the sofa to recover from the delicious assault on my digestive system.

"Sousuke-kun, there's still the cream cake for dessert," Tomoko announced.

"I can't eat another bite right now, Tomoko. Give me just a few minutes to recover," I pleaded, patting my satisfied stomach.

She nodded understandingly and began clearing the dishes with efficient movements. But instead of joining me on the sofa when she finished, she disappeared into her bedroom.

What's she up to now?

The sound of rustling fabric came from behind the closed door, followed by what seemed like an extended preparation period.

She's changing clothes? For dessert?

When the bedroom door finally opened, the figure that emerged made my brain completely short-circuit.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

"So... Sousuke-kun," she said with a shy but unmistakably seductive smile, "what do you think of this dessert?"