Shampoo stepped through the door of the Cat Café, the scent of spices and broth filling the air. Cologne was at the counter, deftly preparing noodles for the evening rush.
"Welcome back, Shampoo," Cologne greeted without looking up, her hands expertly rolling out dough. "How was school?"
"Fine," Shampoo replied curtly, dropping her bag near the door. Her thoughts lingered on the day's events, but she brushed them aside quickly. "Shampoo go train now. Too busy with school and café lately."
Cologne chuckled softly. "Good idea. Keeping your skills sharp is just as important as your studies."
Shampoo nodded, tying her hair back as she made her way to the backyard. The evening air was crisp, a perfect backdrop for training. She stretched briefly before grabbing her favorite pair of maces, their weight familiar and grounding in her hands.
With a deep breath, she began her routine—precise strikes, swift dodges, and fluid movements that had been ingrained in her since childhood. Her mind cleared with each swing, her focus sharpening.
After a while, she paused, wiping the sweat from her brow. She looked up at the darkening sky and allowed herself a small smile. No matter how chaotic her days became, training always brought her back to herself.
Shampoo's meditation was flawless—her breathing steady, her balance unwavering. But then, out of nowhere, a stray thought pierced her focus: Ryoga.
His face popped into her mind, uninvited and vivid. His determined expression during the fitness test, his goofy yet endearing reaction to her teasing, and even the moment he had punched Mousse earlier—all of it played in her head like a whirlwind she couldn't stop.
"Why—why Shampoo think about Pig-boy?!" she thought, her concentration shattered.
Her foot wobbled on the plank, and before she could steady herself, she fell backward. Instinctively, Shampoo planted her hands on the ground and flipped over, landing gracefully on her feet with a quick back spring.
She stood there for a moment, her breath slightly uneven as she tried to process what had just happened. Her cheeks began to flush, a soft pink creeping across her face as she clenched her fists.
"Stupid Pig-boy!" Shampoo muttered under her breath, frustrated at herself. She kicked the plank off the blocks, the wooden sound echoing in the yard. Crossing her arms, she paced in a circle, still trying to shake off the image of Ryoga in her mind.
"Shampoo no care about Pig-boy," she insisted to herself, her voice louder than usual as if saying it out loud would make it true. But the warmth in her cheeks and the flutter in her chest told a different story, one she wasn't ready to admit yet.