"Plus, serious endurance work, 'cause feeling strong for longer is a huge confidence booster." He visualizes some routines, mentally discarding exercises that are too basketball-specific or might bulk her up in ways she doesn't want. "We need exercises that make you feel like you could totally own any room you walk into… or at least feel like you could."

  He stops pacing and points a finger at her, a pyful but firm glint entering his eyes. "But let me be crystal clear, Dipa. You asked for my help, and I'm all in. But when I train someone, I don't phone it in."

  "You get the full, undiluted James 'Monster' Khan training experience." He puffs his chest out slightly, half-joking but definitely not entirely. "Think less 'friendly neighborhood cheerleader', more 'slightly terrifying but ultimately effective drill sergeant'... but, you know, a cool one who tells jokes sometimes." He grins.

  "There will be sweat. There might be compining. There will be results. No shortcuts, no excuses."

  "You ready to commit to that?"

  That warning, that challenge, seems to be exactly what Dipa needed. Her tentative smile finally broadens into a full, genuine grin, erasing the st traces of hesitation. That familiar, feisty spark – the one James usually saw right before she executed a perfect throw – fres back to life in her eyes. She squares her shoulders, dropping her bag onto the floor with a decisive thud.

  "Are you kidding me? I wouldn't expect anything less from the infamous 'Monster' Khan," she shoots back, tossing his nickname back at him like a challenge accepted. There's a teasing confidence in her voice now that was completely absent minutes ago. "Seriously, James, I eat tough workouts for breakfast... well, usually rice cakes, but you get the idea."

  The shared joke, the easy shift from awkward confession to pyful banter, seems to solidify their new pact. The air feels lighter, charged with potential. "Okay," she says, her voice firm, nodding decisively. The nervous energy has been repced by focused determination.

  "I'm ready. Totally ready. Bring on the slightly terrifying drill sergeant." She looks him straight in the eye, a Judo warrior ready for a different kind of battle.

  "So, Coach," she adds, a mischievous tilt to her head, "when does Operation: Impress the Crush officially commence? Don't keep a girl waiting."

  James grins back, feeling a jolt of excitement. This was way more interesting than his usual post-practice routine. "Alright, soldier! Operation kicks off bright and early."

  "Meet me by the track, 6 AM sharp? Before school?" He raises an eyebrow. "Think you can handle that?"

  Dipa scoffs pyfully. "Please. 6 AM is practically sleeping in for a Judoka. I'll be there."

  "Don't you be te, 'Coach'." She picks up her bag, slings it over her shoulder, and gives him a final, determined nod before turning and heading out of the gym with a newfound spring in her step. James watches her go, a smile pying on his lips. This was going to be good.