Atem learns the phrase "muscle savings" and asks whether Kaiba Corporation's employee benefits include it.
Within the hour he has changed into sportswear. What follows is a trainer who stops laughing after four minutes, a plan to post progress photos that Seto forbids on economic grounds, a serious inquiry into whether he could enter Bikini Fitness, a company newsletter that leaks worldwide anyway, and a question about whether weight training makes you taller.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 愛と理論 20 王、トレーニーになる
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
First thing after coming in to work, Atem opened with that, wearing a triumphant face.
When Seto raised his eyes from his documents, he knits his brows faintly.
"...Where did you procure that this time."
"One of the employees was saying it. Muscle savings for the future. I thought it an interesting concept."
"That's a derivative of savings. Building muscular strength for the maintenance of health is called that."
"Oh. Seto, in Kaiba Corporation's employee benefits, is there no muscle savings system?"
"You... what do you take employee benefits for."
Seto presses at his head. But an exchange of this sort is not unusual.
Atem is asking in earnest. There is neither ill intent nor joke in it.
"There's a gym. The KC Gym. Any employee can use it."
"That's splendid. I shall begin this thing called muscle savings at once."
"...You... you intend to go now?"
"The preparations are already done."
Seto's eyes widen slightly.
Atem had already changed into sportswear.
The King's capacity for action is swift, resembling a god's lightning.
The next day, the KC Gym was quiet.
The reason is simple.
By the usual pattern, Seto had reserved the entire building exclusively.
"...To think you'd reserve it exclusively."
"Becoming a spectacle for the employees would be tiresome, wouldn't it."
At Seto's consideration, Atem smiles slightly.
He felt that his pride as a king had been respected.
Appearing there was the trainer under exclusive contract to KC.
A man with a body like a sculpture of muscle, of a build that would not be out of place entering a physique competition.
"You are Lord Atem. Thank you for having me today."
"Ah. To train is to govern oneself, is it."
The trainer laughed lightly at first, but within a few minutes had become straight-faced.
Atem's powers of concentration are out of the ordinary.
He responds instantly to corrections of form, and memorizes accurately even the manner of breathing.
"...A splendid posture. It's as though this were not your first time."
"Sinew resembles the pillars of a temple. It should be strong, and maintain equilibrium."
By the time they finished, the trainer had broken a sweat from putting in too much spirit.
That night.
Atem, when he returned to Seto's study, begins talking while opening a notebook.
"Protein, creatine, BCAA... all of them seem to be important elements."
"...You're completely hooked."
"I sought advice from A.R.E.S. too. It designed an optimal supplement composition for me."
"I didn't think you'd use it even for weight training."
Atem is seriously shaking protein in a shaker.
That figure was oddly comical, and Seto let his mouth loosen in spite of himself.
"So long as you don't drink too much, there's no harm. Weight training and supplementary nutrients both."
"If you say so, then I'm at ease."
Atem nodded, looking satisfied, and drank a mouthful.
Seto propped an elbow on the desk and gazes at that quietly.
Atem was now facing not conquest, nor magic, but his own body.
That was, strangely, a matter for pride.
The next morning.
The instant Atem opened his eyes he grimaced.
"...Ugh... my arms... won't rise."
Apparently this is that thing called muscle soreness.
The king of antiquity had trained, but was unconnected with abrupt physical labour.
This sensation was, for the first time in three thousand years, an unknown pain.
Even so, Atem laughed at the pain.
That his sinews are screaming is proof that yesterday's effort was unmistakably carved in.
"Muscle grows stronger each time it is repaired..."
At once he takes up a terminal and begins investigating.
A.R.E.S. responded immediately.
Muscle soreness is a phenomenon called "delayed-onset muscle soreness." Inflammation is occurring in the process of damaged muscle fibres being repaired.
"Damaged, and grows stronger... just like a warrior."
Lord Atem's understanding is accurate. As a supplement, rest and nutrition are held to be important.
Atem gazes at A.R.E.S.'s display while nodding.
Then, as though taking the hint, A.R.E.S. switched the screen.
Shall I display the "training records" of trainers all over the world?
"Show me."
Footage and social media posts from every country in the world line up in rows.
Every trainer proudly uploads the changes in his own body.
Those taking poses in front of mirrors, those comparing form, those recording meals.
"...Everyone is making their results public?"
Yes. It appears that by transmitting their progress to one another, they are inspiring each other.
"...One who is a king should show the people a model... Muscle, too, is a symbol of power that should be shown...!"
A.R.E.S.'s light blinked faintly for an instant.
It was as though it had sensed a bad feeling.
Several days after A.R.E.S.'s progress report.
The instant Atem set up his smartphone while watching a weight training video, a low voice came from behind him.
"...Don't."
"Seto?"
Seated on the sofa, the sound of a laptop closing rings out quietly.
Seto let out a short breath and turned a sharp gaze on him.
"Merely by your transmitting a little, the world falls into confusion. I won't let you tell me you've forgotten the King's Curry boom the other day."
"...Does one get confused over muscle?"
"One does. By one arm of yours, a nation's protein consumption changes."
Atem tilts his head.
Apparently he is not very conscious of the past worldwide Atem phenomena.
"I see... let's stop with the posting."
"Correct. Your muscles, I will look at."
At Seto's single line, Atem blinked a little.
The reason he doesn't quite understand, but if Seto says so, then that is presumably correct.
Several weeks after beginning weight training.
Invited by the trainer, Atem went to watch a physique competition the man was entering.
Skin with a sheen, muscles bulging, beads of sweat reflecting the lighting.
They stand on the stage like warriors, and the audience raises cheers at that "order of beauty."
Atem's eyes faintly took on light.
"Seto... this is a battle."
"...You. Surely not."
"So there are venues for competing in strength in this age too. Seto, won't you hold a competition?"
"...That competition isn't cards."
"Heh. But in the point of staking the heart, they're alike."
"Wrong. The instant you entered, everyone would withdraw."
Atem laughed.
Seto put a hand to his forehead, sensing the coming nuisance.
The day after seeing the trainer's competition.
Atem was seriously posing in front of a mirror.
He draws his shoulder blades together, throws out his chest, tightens his stomach.
The muscle is certainly growing, but it's still far from the ideal.
"...Seto is still the more robust."
At that quietly murmured voice, low laughter comes back from behind.
"There's no way it grows that easily."
"I see. Then I can't afford to lose either."
Atem's eyes shone with fighting spirit.
Seto shrugged slightly and closed the laptop.
"...You. What are you fighting?"
"Beauty."
That answer was far too immediate, and Seto lost his words for an instant.
Several days later, A.R.E.S. announced in a light electronic tone.
Lord Atem, there is a category called Bikini Fitness. It is a competition contesting aesthetic musculature.
"...Mm. Wouldn't I be able to enter this?"
That leap of conception was truly characteristic of Atem.
At night, to a Seto lowering himself onto the sofa, Atem opened with a straight face.
"Seto, I think I'll enter Bikini Fitness."
"...Bikini Fitness is not a men's competition."
"Is there still a wall between men and women in this age too?"
An Atem asking in orderly reasoning, and in earnest.
"You don't get to say that."
Seto knits his brows faintly and let out a sigh.
"If you entered, not merely that wall — the meaning of the competition would vanish."
"The meaning would vanish?"
"The entire audience would do nothing but look at you."
Atem put a finger to his chin as though thinking deeply.
"...Wouldn't that be fine in its own way?"
"There's no way it's fine."
Seto's reply was immediate.
"Seto, you have the power to hold a competition, don't you?"
"I do. But I won't."
"Why?"
"I have no intention of showing you to others."
At that one line, Atem lost his words for just an instant.
But in the next moment, he lets a smile surface.
"...Your reason is, at times, beautiful."
Seto extended a hand without a word and lightly flicked Atem's forehead.
"It isn't reason. It's common sense."
Even so, Atem did not stop training.
Before anyone noticed, muscle savings had changed into muscle to be shown,
and weight training, exceeding a daily routine, was entering the domain of faith.
Amid the voice of A.R.E.S. evenly recording data, Seto gazes at that back out of the corner of his eye.
"...Looks like you'll become the first man in human history to move the world with muscle."
Kaiba Corporation's company newsletter Welfare Now!, latest issue.
The lead feature is "Health Management and Muscle."
Open the page, and there, a photograph of Atem posing lined up beside the trainer was carried large.
That splendid form. That well-ordered face. That tightened musculature.
However anyone looked at it, the advertising effect was excessive.
Seto quietly closed the page.
"......Too late, is it."
The A.R.E.S. before him puts in a composed confirmation.
On the internal network, the photograph in question is being rapidly disseminated.
"No doubt."
Seto had already issued the next instruction.
"A.R.E.S., bring Project Muscle Initiative into full-scale operation."
Understood. Activating the related departments: Supplement Research and Development, KC Gym Business Division, Media Strategy Division.
While listening to that voice, Seto laughed and lowered his eyes.
"So it was here this time. To think that by the King's muscle, the world economy would move."
Several days later.
Atem's photograph had, for some reason, leaked even outside the company.
"The Mysterious King Who Trains Alongside the CEO" "An Incarnation of Beauty?" "The Savior of the Weight Training World"
It was disseminated in the blink of an eye, centred on social media, and the hashtags went into the world trends.
#GainLikeAtem
#KingOfMuscle
#筋肉の王
In gyms all over the world, people imitating "the King's form" appeared,
and advance orders for KC-made protein took down the servers overnight.
The KC Gyms too increased their locations and commenced operation.
Introducing A.R.E.S.'s AI coaching into the newest equipment, they provide the King's instructional method to all users.
In every region a new-era fitness movement with "beautiful muscle" as its philosophy began, and on the signs of the city the KC logo and the words "Train Like a King" shone.
Night, at the office window.
"Seto, Kaiba Corporation's preparation is thorough as always."
Atem showed his smartphone while laughing.
On the screen, news reading "Worldwide Weight Training Boom — Is the Transmission Source the Partner of Kaiba Corporation's CEO?"
Seto answers evenly while putting documents in order.
"You have far too much of a track record."
"Is that praise?"
"It's closer to a disaster forecast."
Atem laughed, looking entertained, and propped an elbow on the desk.
"...So, do you not do weight training?"
"I already do."
"Since when...?"
"From before you learned the word muscle savings."
Silence.
And then, Atem nodded quietly.
Back home.
Atem was gazing at Seto's musculature quietly, but with eyes that carried heat.
Seto let out a small breath and lets the strength go out of his shoulders.
"Keep the observation in moderation."
"It's research."
"...Don't seduce your object of research."
"That is already an unavoidable fate."
When Atem let the very faintest smile surface, Seto, with narrowed eyes still, touches Atem's shoulder with his fingertips.
"...Don't make a needlessly sweet expression."
"It isn't needless. It's effective."
A.R.E.S. discreetly dropped the lighting.
Shall I lower the room temperature?
"Don't lower it."
"Raise it."
The voices of the two overlapped at the same time.
The King's single-minded resolve moves muscle, muscle moves the economy, and the economy moved the world again.
And Seto today as well will presumably say it quietly.
"......Your muscular strength comes accompanied by economic destructive power."
As always, Atem went on training in earnest.
In raising the load, and in maintaining form, there is not the slightest compromise.
One day, an Atem on a break suddenly said:
"Muscle never betrays you, they say."
At a Japanese maxim he doesn't know where he learned, Seto knits his brows for just an instant.
"......Who taught you that."
"The trainer. A truth, isn't it."
"A nuisance of a truth."
Ever since then, Atem's austerity by the name of snacking began.
Boiled eggs, sweet potatoes, chicken breast, nuts.
Even in the intervals between meetings, A.R.E.S. sounds an alert at the appointed timing.
Lord Atem, it is time for protein intake.
And for some reason, each time, the same plate is lined up on Seto's desk as well.
"Am I collateral damage."
"A comrade."
"Wrong."
In time, Atem's bento evolved into a golden ratio bento boasting perfect nutritional balance.
Calories, protein, fat, carbohydrates — all of them at ideal values.
On the lid of the container, in Atem's own hand, is written "Muscle never betrays you."
Seto looked down at the bento and let out a small sigh.
"......Do you intend to rule even my dietary life."
"Wrong. I'm guiding it."
"Synonymous."
A.R.E.S. reports, looking satisfied.
Lord Seto, your muscle index is trending upward.
Seto, fork still in hand, said quietly:
"......Whose fault is that."
Several months since Atem began weight training.
That enthusiasm had become a topic within the company as well, and the rate of increase in KC Gym users was recording abnormal figures.
One day, A.R.E.S. sounded a discreet notification tone.
Offers have arrived for Lord Atem from multiple publishers. The theme is said to be a "muscular beauty" photo book.
Seto stopped the hand with which he was drinking coffee.
"Rejected."
"You haven't read them yet."
"There's no need to read them. We won't publish."
Atem blinks, looking puzzled.
"Why? Is muscle not something that gives everyone hope?"
"For your muscles, it is sufficient that I alone observe."
"Seto, is that not what they call possessiveness?"
"Obviously."
Declared evenly, Atem laughed a little.
Apparently that is not a denial, but the answer that pleases him more than anything.
Around that time, Seto himself, having gone on with collateral training without knowing it, was also splendidly coming into shape.
At a robustness discernible even through a suit, A.R.E.S. sends up a report.
Lord Seto, the figures for muscle density are rising.
"......Don't make superfluous reports."
Seeing Seto like that, Atem nodded, looking satisfied.
"Then we need only accept the offers together."
"Who would do such a thing."
"Seto's muscles are beautiful too."
"...How far are you possessed by muscle."
"Muscle is truth. It's love."
A.R.E.S., taking the hint, had quietly arranged high-protein sweets on the desks of the two.
Amid the spreading sweet fragrance, Seto said as though exasperated:
"...Starting from muscle savings, how far do you intend to go, Atem."
"The limit is not yet in sight."
Seto exhaled deeply, and in place of words gazed at that smile for just an instant.
And then, just as he was, slowly averts his eyes.
Shall I lower the room temperature?
"......Raise it."
"Don't lower it."
The voices of the two once again overlapped at the same time.
Atem's weight training life had by now exceeded a daily routine and become close to a faith.
Muscle never betrays you. Effort will always take form.
An Atem who believes that through and through opened his mouth abruptly one night.
"Seto, if one trains one's muscles, does one's height not grow as well?"
Seto responded without taking his eyes from the tablet.
"......What are you talking about."
"I heard that the secretion of growth hormone is promoted."
"You. Your age."
"I have no intention of being bound by the concept of age."
A.R.E.S. cuts in discreetly.
Lord Atem, calcium intake may also be effective. This S — y C—lcium has a good reputation.
"Oh."
Atem peers into the display, full of interest.
Seto exhaled deeply and said slowly, as though choosing his words.
"A.R.E.S., delete that advertisement."
Deleting.
And then he fixes Atem squarely from directly in front.
"It's useless at this stage."
"...One doesn't know unless one tries."
"Don't imagine you can defy gravity."
Atem twisted his lips faintly and laughed.
"I don't want to hear that from you, who have defied gravity with that body."
Seto, unable to hold it in, laughs with his shoulders.
"...Don't bring reasoning into muscle."
"It isn't reasoning, it's hope."
A.R.E.S. announces discreetly once again.
Then, shall I cancel the recurring purchase of —ky Calcium?
The voices of the two overlapped.
"Cancel it."
After a silence, Seto adds under his breath.
"...Don't force yourself to match the height of my line of sight."
"Then you need only stoop."
"I refuse."
But Seto was smiling a little.
That gaze was, in the end, at whatever angle, looking straight at Atem.
The world is quietly, and certainly, entering the age of muscle savings.
Protein bottles bearing the KC logo line up in gyms, in offices, and in homes.
Supplements supervised by A.R.E.S. adorn the covers of health magazines, and Kaiba Corporation's share price was once again recording an all-time high.
But there is a place that clamor does not reach.
The Kaiba mansion at night.
In a room with the lighting dropped, the sounds of the two alone were ringing out.
Atem traces Seto's arm with his palm.
While confirming the feel of the muscle rising hard and supple, he laughed faintly.
"Seto, show me."
"...Again?"
"This is research."
"An excuse by the name of research, you mean."
"Your theory too is a thing that repeats experiments, isn't it?"
Seto exhales a sigh.
In that voice, just a little heat was mixed.
"...There are limits even to the verification of theory."
"Heh, let's confirm it to the limit."
Fingertips slide, and trace skin that takes on heat.
Outside, a KC protein commercial plays, and the world cries "health."
But inside this room, a different story of muscle that no one knows was in progress.
