WataMote fanfiction: SOLO

Since I'm Not Popular, I'll Become an Athlete

Tomoko Kuroki stared at her brother.

She's freaking me out, his inner voice growled.

"There's one thing I don't understand, dear brother. Why are there stress circles under your eyes? What causes you stress?"

"You have to ask? More importantly, get out."

***

Tomoko had already abandoned the attempt at conversational rehab through her brother, but she still routinely prodded him and probed for answers, because there was obviously something that he had gotten right that still eluded her. He had friends. He was popular. He was an athlete.

An athlete, huh?

Maybe it was as simple as that. She was the least healthy person she knew, and also the most unpopular.

Coincidence? I think not.

Maybe the healthy among us instinctively reject the unhealthy. The mother cat abandons the runts and the weaklings, after all. And people are certainly no better than cats.

Increasing her physical prowess was a project that would require some serious thought, so she spread across the couch watching TV, contemplating her next move. Signing up for sports at school was no good. She already couldn't handle the least strenuous physical activity they had to throw at her. Tennis winded her, and basketballs had a habit of smashing into her hand. She remembered having once been good at running, back in middle school, but for some reason she couldn't keep up with the others any more. She remembered that a school nurse once remarked that she had "a touch" of anemia, but she had dismissed that as nothing more than a side-effect of not eating lunch that day.

After school the next day, she came home with an armful of video game rentals. Somewhere in this stack she'd find her perfect sport.

She stayed up all night playing, and found she had a special affinity for Pro Wrestling Toukon Retsuden 4. By morning, she was a wreck, and far too late realized she had left herself no reasonable amount of time for sleeping. All day at school, she felt weaker and more physically pathetic than she had ever felt in her entire life, despite the number of jumping power bombs she had delivered to the Great Muta just the night before.

My athletic career is already in the tank. Maybe I need a more realistic approach.

She bit her lower lip. Reality was, as a general rule, not Tomoko Kuroki's friend.

That night, she sat well away from the computer, clenching her small, blood-deprived fists.

"You will remain off. You will remain off. I will not turn you on. I will not find an excuse to read articles online. I don't need advice. I know everything I need to know. You are off, and off you shall remain."

She shot her gaming tablet a sharp look. "That goes for you, double."

After a full night in bed, forcing herself, Tomoko somehow managed to be a bigger physical wreck than she had the previous morning, after no sleep at all. But it was early. So early. She could remember being up this early, many times, but only after staying up through the entire night. She hadn't woke up this early on purpose since she was in grade school.

Grade school. That's the last time I remember being healthy. And I swear I'll be healthy again!

In her mind's eye, she was already lifting barbells so heavy that the bars creaked and sagged dangerously on each side. There had to be at least a ton of plates at each end. She saw a big fat guy in tiny shorts and a tank top struggling to deadlift it, but he couldn't budge it, couldn't lift it from the ground any more than he could lift an entire bullet train. Powerful Tomoko Kuroki pushed him aside and picked it up with one hand, and curled it to her chin like it was nothing. She tossed it from one hand to the other, then spun it over her head.

I'm not delusional, she reassured herself. I'm simply engaged in visualizing my goals.

She had decided to begin jogging in the morning, every morning. This would be her first step on the journey to health. She ran to the corner, then doubled over, completely winded.

That's a good start. Now I'll power walk back home and relax until time to go to school.

To the untrained eye, the power walk looked more like an exhausted limp, but never mind. She kept up this furious level of phsyical activity for almost a week, and by then began worrying that she had yet to make it past the corner.

Worse, she suffered progressively, more and more each day, from internet withdrawal. But she was determined that this time she would not fail, so the computer remained off every night, so she could get to sleep.

Not that she was getting much, anyway. Each night that week was spent mostly rolling and fidgeting around, worrying about what was going on, online. She also couldn't stop worrying about her lack of progress. She tried visualizing herself winning marathons. But even inside of her visualizations, she caught herself cheating. She got on the bus and rode all the way to the finish line, and cut in front of the other runners, just at the critical moment. Somehow that thought filled her with more peace and tranquility than thinking about sweating and straining and working hard.

This is it! The morning I really run. Nothing can stop me now!

Tomoko finally blew past the corner, then two blocks down blew out her ankle. It was the same ankle that always gave out on her, if she tried hiking any unreasonable distance. Farther than the nearby convenience store, for example.

This sucks! How can I become an elite physical specimen if I'm forced to inhabit the body of a weakling?

In the end, she had to give up her dream of becoming a world-class athlete, when the Science Club rejected her application, citing her sub-standard math grades.

Her only hope, after all, was to learn how to design an android body to replace her own frail frame. The technology didn't seem to be there, yet. But she kept the dream alive by researching the possibilities online, every night, late into the early a.m.'s, before finally going to bed.

It's a challenge keeping up this pace. Getting stronger and stronger, every day.