I was Thrown into an Unfamiliar Manga

The red-haired girl from the Kendo Club.
To be honest, I had half-forgotten about her, but the moment she came to the classroom the next day and revealed her name to the protagonist, Sakamoto Ryuji, I remembered it—belatedly.
That she was Tojo Karen, the heroine who ranked 6th in popularity in Scramble Love.

In fact, when I first came across this manga through a meme post online, what the uploader emphasized was that the heroine who ended up with the protagonist ranked only 4th in popularity.
What they attached as “proof” back then was the popularity poll results held right before the release of the final volume. Since the top 6 characters appeared in a full-color illustration at the front of the magazine, I’d managed to vaguely remember their appearances and names.
And today, when she returned to Class 2-B, she stood before the protagonist Sakamoto and declared:
“You! Be my man!”

Because of the sudden, massive bombshell, the classroom's public opinion ignited instantly.
Namely, over who Sakamoto Ryuji would end up dating.
“Come on, it’s obviously Yaguchi. She’s sweet, polite, and most of all, she’s stacked.”

“Pfft, you don’t get it. A usually fierce girlfriend acting like a puppy only for me—how could I resist that?”
“Isn’t Tojo from Class A a bit too flat-chested and boyish? I prefer the nurturing wife type.”
“Breast size doesn’t matter. What’s important is the heart.”

Among the single male students, it was practically a debate on the level of the Historic Scholarly Dispute over Mourning Attire.
As a fellow guy, I did sympathize with some of what they were saying—but I really wished they’d refrain from saying it out loud in class.
The girls had already started looking at them like they were bugs.

Other than Satoru, who sat in front of me, I had no one in class to have that kind of conversation with, so I was quietly observing from the back when Kishimoto, seated next to me, asked:
“Ryu-chan, who do you think Sakamoto will end up dating?”
“Hmm. I’m not really sure.”

It was a rather sensitive question, so I decided to go with no comment.
After all, if things followed the original storyline, it was already set in stone that the childhood friend Yaguchi Maiya would win in the end.
“Ehh~ Boring~”
Saying that, Kishimoto turned her head and, seemingly having lost interest, started reading the latest issue of Jump she’d brought that morning with renewed enthusiasm.

For the record, that book actually belonged to me.
***
“See you tomorrow!”

After school ended, I parted ways with Kishimoto in front of the subway station and headed straight to the gym near my house.
As usual, I climbed the tall staircase, opened the second-floor gym door, and walked inside—where I saw the usual macho musclemen sweating through intense workouts.
But… what’s this weird feeling?

Something felt different today.
As I instinctively looked around to identify the cause, the gym owner, Nakayama-san, cheerfully greeted me.
“You must be busy with schoolwork, but you still show up like clockwork, Kim-kun.”

“Hello, Director. But did something happen today? Everyone seems to be working out way harder than usual.”
At that, the director shook his head with a wry smile and said:
“A new female member joined the gym today. Everyone’s in an uproar about how pretty she is.”

Ah…
That’s when I realized.
All the guys here were basically thrashing about to make themselves stand out to the new member.

“Anyway, go get changed quickly. I’ll watch your workout today.”
“Ah. Thank you.”
Following Nakayama-san’s words, I headed toward the locker room tucked away in the corner of the gym.

***
This gym, run solely by Nakayama-san, was around 100 pyeong in size—not particularly large compared to other chain gyms.
But among the local fitness buffs, it was pretty much a sacred ground.

That’s because athletes and bodybuilders from this place swept awards in countless competitions.
And the one who personally trained them was none other than the gym director, Nakayama Yujiro.
He was originally a competitive bodybuilder, but after retiring, he opened his dream gym and devoted himself to training the next generation.

I first came here during spring break of my third year in middle school, so counting by the calendar, it’s almost been two years now.
He was the one who told me I had potential when I started working out blindly and taught me various techniques and knowledge for free. A truly grateful person.
When I came out of the locker room in a light sleeveless tee, I saw a familiar face standing next to Nakayama-san.

“…Fuma Yukika?”
I blurted it out unconsciously upon seeing her face, and she puffed out her chest with a proud expression.
“What a coincidence, Kim Yu-seong. To think we’d meet here.”

So the new female member turned out to be her. What a twist.
I felt a bit dizzy from the revelation, but for now, I gave a slight bow.
“Do you live nearby?”

Fuma Yukika answered shamelessly:
“I moved a few days ago. It felt like my club activities alone weren’t enough exercise, so I was looking for a fitness club. Didn’t expect you to go here though.”
Having overheard our conversation, Nakayama-san smiled slyly and said:

“Well, this works out. From now on, Kim-kun can train Miss Fuma °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° instead of me. Being schoolmates, it should be easier for you two to talk than it is with an old guy like me.”
“…Does her opinion not matter here?”
Nakayama-san stepped up beside me, slung an arm over my shoulder, and whispered into my ear:

“From the looks of it, she’s got a thing for you. Probably came all the way here because of that—so go for it.”
“…That’s not it.”
“Aw, don’t be shy.”

Clearly, he’d misunderstood big time, so I decided not to comment further.
“Anyway, since it’s her first day, Miss Fuma is just observing. Let’s get started on our own.”
“Yes, sir.”

Following the director’s instructions, I headed over to the free weight zone to work out.
Today was squat day.
“We’ll start light for the warm-up—220kg.”

Nakayama-san began sliding plates onto an empty bar.
He loaded four 25kg plates on each side of the standard 20kg barbell—100kg per side.
The barbell, now weighing 220kg in total, was set up on the squat rack.

Watching from the side, Fuma Yukika muttered in disbelief:
“You’re starting with this much weight?”
Nakayama-san chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder.

“Missy, I’ve been in this industry over 20 years, but I’ve never seen a monster like this guy—not even when I was active. So don’t worry.”
I listened to his flattering praise with one ear and let it out the other, then positioned the firmly secured barbell across my traps.
And then, I lifted it.

Squatted lightly, stood up again, and racked the barbell.
Without resting, the director immediately increased the weight.
“Alright, two more plates—270kg this time.”

“Yes, sir.”
When the weight was bumped up by another 50kg in one go, Fuma Yukika’s jaw dropped—but unfortunately for her, that still wasn’t the main workout yet.
I positioned the barbell across my traps again, then firmly gripped both sides.

“Sss… hup!”
I inhaled deeply, then held my breath to build intra-abdominal pressure—and once more squatted down and stood up easily.
Still feeling light, I racked the barbell again, and Nakayama-san, arms crossed, picked up two more plates.

“Warm-up’s over. Now we start the real workout.”
“Yes, sir.”
I placed the barbell—now packed to the limit with plates—on my traps once more and tensed my entire body.

“Hrgh!”
With the now clearly heavier barbell on my back, I took a few steps forward.
I could tell that everyone else in the gym had turned their eyes toward me, but I didn’t have the mental bandwidth to care.

Losing focus during heavy lifts was the fastest way to get injured.
In my current warmed-up state, I squatted and stood up exactly five times.
Thud!!

As I re-racked the barbell after finishing one set, Fuma Yukika, who had been watching from the side, muttered with a pale expression:
“Do you always work out like you’re torturing your body? Even as a beginner, I feel like this is a bit…”
Having just finished my lift, I loosened up my now-light body and asked:

“Sorry? What did you say?”
Fuma Yukika abruptly closed her mouth like a mute who’d swallowed honey.
Nakayama-san, who had been listening to our exchange, chuckled and said:

“Told you, missy. He’s a monster.”
There’s no point in trying to apply common sense to this guy.