Leo Taura | J.JK ✓

Dolor

I laugh. Kohei's optimism makes me feel a lot better about the trip. 

"Uh, I don't know...tea?" 

"Tea?" He shakes his head, musing over the silhouettes of hills in the distance. 

The sun is just starting to set, tapering behind the horizon and casting a marigold yellow hue over the sandy ground. It truly is beautiful here, albeit hot as a motherfucker. 

"Out of all the foods you could have chosen, you pick tea? That's not food...unless you're on an all liquids diet, haha."

I wince internally. If only Kohei knew the half of it.

"No, I'm not. And I don't even like tea that much." I try not to sound too bitter, but it's difficult.

Kan's strict dieting regimen not only has me tired out easier, but my ribs show now more than ever. If Leo could see them...he would be immensely angry with me, mad that I went against his word not to push myself too hard. 

At this point, I can't help turning down food anymore. It's a rotten impulse, a trained aversion towards anything that hints at a possible caloric intake. If my hand picks up a snack, it's automatic nausea. Although I'd like to eat an entire fridge of snacks to feed my hunger, I can only manage to stomach half a snack. It's awful.

I really hope that the final banquet at camp doesn't serve platters too rich or heavy. If so, my stomach might eject it right back out. That would NOT be a welcome sight at a celebratory dinner. Not at all.

"Hey...look." Kohei draws my attention to something on the other side of the room. 

When I glance over, I see a well-dressed, tall man wearing glasses. I'd put him in his upper forties...and with those sturdy shoulders and that mature stance, he has to be someone experienced in an athletic field. 

A new judge? No...I don't know.

"Who is that?" I whisper to Kohei. He shrugs, enraptured by the power in the man's walk. 

Seconds later, the man strides right past us. He briefly makes eye contact, walks a few paces, and then does a double take back at our seats. I'm perplexed as he approaches us with a polite grin on his lips, and a quick glance at Kohei reveals he's just as perplexed.

"Hello, Jeon Jungkook. And Fujimoto..." He pauses, seeming to grasp for something in his mind. "Kohei...yes, Kohei. That's your name, right?"

Kohei nods, taking in this new visitor curiously along with me. We've never seen him around here before.

"Oh, anyway." The stranger chuckles, but I don't know what's funny. "You two are outstanding gymnasts! I've watched a lot of your routines before, and I have to say, I'm quite impressed. Jeon's parallel bars are powerful, and Fujimoto's floor is so graceful. It's a true pleasure to meet you. I'm Mr. Raisman, but you can call me Logan."

Mr. Raisman's aura is bright orange as he reaches his hand out to shake ours. His auric clouds hold the capacity of a leader and the intelligence of someone in the upper ranks of society. The longer I stare, I can see his caring nature...but something in it unsettles me. It's almost as if the bright orange hue is temporary, a façade he's forcing upon himself to appear capable. 

Almost as if he's new, potentially inexperienced, and must constantly remind himself that he is powerful. The kind of personality that one might expect out of an enthusiastic college student who hosts crazy parties and tries to justify the usage of LSD at his party by pointing to his good grades.