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The barbell hovers above my chest like a guillotine blade, my arms trembling like I’m trying to bench press during an earthquake. Sweat drips into my eyes, and I blink it away, focusing on Brooke’s face looming above me.
“That’s it, babe. You got this. Come on, get another rep in,” Brooke says, her voice a perfect blend of encouragement and command. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail, those gorgeous blue eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes my heart race faster than the workout itself.
My arms shake violently as I try to push the weight up. The bar barely moves.
“One more. Come on,” she urges, her fingers hovering just beneath the bar, ready to catch it if I fail.
I let out a grunt that sounds more like a wounded animal than a determined athlete. The bar doesn’t budge.
“Don’t you want me to finish Steins Gate with you tonight?” she asks, her voice dropping to that tone that somehow makes anime and bench pressing feel equally important.
I summon what little strength remains in my quivering arms, pushing with everything I’ve got. The bar rises maybe an inch before stopping again, my muscles screaming in protest.
Brooke sighs, leaning down so close I can feel her breath against my ear.
“Come on,” she whispers, “if you finish strong, I’ll let you lick my abs again...”
My arms, which moments ago felt like overboiled noodles, suddenly find new life. With a strangled cry that draws stares from across the gym, I push the bar up with surprising force, locking my elbows at the top.
“There it is!” Brooke exclaims, helping guide the bar back onto the rack. “See? I knew you had it in you.”
I collapse back onto the bench, chest heaving, a ridiculous grin spreading across my face. “I think you just discovered the secret to unlocking my hidden potential.”
She laughs, the sound echoing off the gym walls. “Your potential isn’t exactly hidden, Chris. It just needs the right motivation.”
“I’m really glad you finished,” Brooke says, wiping a towel across her forehead. “I was going to be seriously bummed if I didn’t get to see the end of Steins Gate tonight.”
That’s our relationship in a nutshell. This weird, wonderful trade of hobbies. When I worked up the courage to ask her out over a year ago, I was fully expecting her to laugh in my face. But she said yes, and then later she made me this deal. She’d try my interests if I tried hers. Now we’ve got this whole system going. If she watches anime with me, I hit the gym with her. I show her how to beat the final boss in Elden Ring, and she teaches me about proper male prep.
The truth is, it doesn’t need to be one-for-one. We’re both just enjoying each other’s company, finding new things to love about each other. Even when her friends used to give me the side-eye at parties, like I was some kind of weirdo who wasn’t good enough for their Brooke, we’re a great couple. And I’m completely, stupidly in love with her.
My phone buzzes from my gym bag on the floor. Then it buzzes again.
Brooke’s expression shifts subtly, her shoulders tense, her eyes flick to the bag, then back to me. I’ve seen this look before.
“Hey... Chris?” Her voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it. “Do you mind if I look through your phone?”
I know where this is coming from. Her last three relationships ended with her walking in on her partners with other people. It’s left scars that still ache sometimes, even though she tries so hard to handle it in healthy ways. She never goes behind my back, never sneaks a peek when I’m in the shower. She always asks me to my face, which somehow makes it both easier and more heart breaking.
“Of course you can, Brooke,” I say, reaching for my water bottle to hide the sudden dryness in my mouth. “You know you don’t have to ask.”
She gives me a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know. But I want to.”
As she reaches for my phone, I feel that familiar twist of anxiety in my gut. Not because I have anything to hide, but because I hate that she still feels this need. That her past has left her with this lingering doubt.
“It’s probably just Joe sending me something dumb,” I say, watching her face carefully.
She nods, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she sighs. “Yeah, it’s Joe.”
I lean forward, genuinely curious. “What is it?”
Brooke’s lips quirk into a smile as she shows me the screen. “He keeps sending you pictures of Squidward domming SpongeBob.”
We both burst out laughing, the tension in the air dissolving like sugar in hot tea. The image is ridiculous, Squidward in a leather harness while SpongeBob kneels at his feet with a worshipful expression.
“Does Joe know how you are when we...” She lets the implication hang in the air. About how sometimes I beg her to be rough with me when we’re being intimate.
“No, I don’t tell anyone,” I say quickly, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “Not that I’m embarrassed or anything. It’s just none of their business.”
She nods with a smile that makes my heart race. “That’s right. That’s just for me to know.”
“Exactly,” I agree, feeling a rush of affection for her.
Brooke hands my phone back, her fingers brushing against mine. “I’m sorry I asked. I know it’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” I say, tucking the phone away. “I get it. And I’m glad you trust me enough to ask instead of letting it fester.”
“Come on, let’s get you up,” Brooke says, extending her hand. I take it, letting her pull me to my feet with that effortless strength that always makes my stomach flutter. “I’m starving. That workout really took it out of me.”
“Same,” I say, bending down to grab my gym bag. “Want to hit up chipotle on the way home?”
Just as my fingers close around the strap, the floor beneath us lights up with an intense purple glow. A massive circle, covered in intricate symbols appears at our feet.
“What the fuck?” I blurt out, my heart leaping into my throat.
The world around us begins to blur, colors and shapes rushing past like we’re caught in a cosmic tornado. My stomach lurches as the gym dissolves around us, the fluorescent lights stretching into impossible lines before disappearing entirely.
The next thing I know, I’m standing on cold stone. Brooke is beside me, her face pale, one hand clutching my arm so tightly it hurts.
“Chris, I think I’m going to be sick,” she whispers, her free hand pressed against her mouth.
“Me too,” I manage, fighting the wave of nausea crashing through me. The room spins around us, a cavernous space with vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows filtering colored light across the floor.
A tall woman with silver-white hair rises from a throne at the far end of the hall. Her amber eyes fix on us with an intensity that makes me want to shrink back.
“Welcome, heroes,” she says, her voice echoing through the chamber.
My gaze darts around the room, and I realize with growing horror that we’re surrounded by what must be nearly two hundred women in white garments, all lying motionless on the ground. All appear to be unconscious.
“What the hell is happening?”
The queasiness finally begins to subside, leaving behind the lingering sense that my brain has been scrambled and put back together wrong. Brooke straightens up beside me, her color returning to normal.
Then I see it, her eyes widening, her lips parting in an expression of pure, unadulterated wonder. She turns to me, and the smile that spreads across her face is unlike anything I’ve ever seen from her before.
“Chris...” she breathes, her voice barely audible. “Holy shit... this is it. It’s our dream come true.”
I follow her gaze, taking in the medieval architecture, the unconscious women in robes, the woman on the throne who called us heroes. And suddenly, the pieces click together in my mind.
We’ve been isekai’d.