“So what’s this super-important thing you wanna tell me about?” Norm lets out a soft yawn, her head still contemplating the taste of fried noodles. “…and Why’ve you gotta take my food away for it?”

  “Well, no, the food’s a completely separate issue. You can’t be eating this much right before the-“ Masaru lightly sets the box on top of the first table she can find, her ears twitching in irritation. “Look, nevermind. It’s about Kentaro.”

  “Can it wait?”

  “Huh?”

  Norm rocks back, her legs crisscrossed and her eyes seemingly fixated upon the wall.

  “I’m more worried about the Unicorn Stakes at the moment.” She replies. “There’s too many things to do and not enough time to do them.”

  Masaru blinks. She thought about asking where that worry was when she was scarfing noodles earlier… but nevermind that.

  “Well, I suppose you’ve got enough on your plate as is.” Masaru sighs. “I won’t pile on more stuff if you don’t feel like it… No pun intended.”

  A heavy silence follows. The two awkwardly stare at each other, only for Norm to start uncontrollably giggling. Masaru tries to keep a straight face, fails, and follows suit as if possessed.

  “Ehehe… pile on more…”

  Masaru manages to pull herself together through sheer force.

  “Okay, come on, it wasn’t that funny. Calm down.” Masaru elbows Norm. “What the hell did you do that got you scarfing noodles like a maniac, anyway?”

  “Oh, that? I went on a run.” The giggles slowly die out, replaced by the sound of Norm lying down and letting out a loud sigh. “But it wasn’t really an exercise. It’s more like getting chased across the school with a rabid dog on your tail.”

  “I leave you alone for one hour and you go pick a fight with Katsura?”

  “I didn’t!” She sniffles as she shoots upright with puppy eyes, her voice training into a whine like she had been mortally wronged. “I just wanted to use the fitness room! …And then I ran into her, and she was raving like a lunatic, so I turned to leave and ended up closing the door behind me-”

  “You what? Why?”

  Norm whimpers like Masaru had struck her. “I don’t know, okay! It just- it happened!”

  “Okay, okay, I won’t press, jeez…”

  The tension in the room slowly deflates into silence once more. Norm’s eyes drift towards the floor, her ears drooping downwards and her shoulders coiled like a spring.

  “I- uh…” Masaru falters, her voice losing its edge. She had considered bringing up the records again, but to push now would be toppling a broken vase. “Nevermind. We’ll talk about the thing when you’re ready.”

  She sighs and cleans up the rest of the trash, then decides to haul the contents of their bin to the communal one outside the building. It was barely nine by the time she returns, yet she finds Norm already tucked away in bed.

  The curtains slam shut. She climbs into bed, wondering just what Goutarou was doing with the records. Filing a report? Confronting Kentaro? Or, the worst case scenario… doing nothing, perhaps?

  Little did she know, the two of them were in for a big surprise the next morning.

  The two arrive at the track in their usual time, five before first period. Norm lazily eyes the horizon, watching others stretch as Masaru lets out a big yawn.

  “Say, Saru… You think we have enough time to swing by the dirt track today?”

  “What, you’re gonna do more footwork practice?” Masaru rubs her eyes, the morning sun feeling like a fog of pure brightness to her. “Weren’t you planning on taking a plunge instead? Something about stamina.”

  “Well, yeah, but I’m gonna spend the first period making sure fatty isn’t gonna actually show up.” Normcore cracks her neck and leans down to tie her laces. “Though, he hasn’t shown up for the last few days, so I think we’re in the clear for-”

  Her voice falters. Across from her, Masaru, still lazily pacing out a sleep-warm haze, jolts as if she’d touched a live wire.

  It wasn't a sound that had caught them but a sudden, violent shift in the atmosphere—a pressure drop that made the hairs on the base of their tails stand on end.

  Her ears swivel on a frantic pivot, and in the same breath, their heads turn in unison.

  Kentaro stands at the crest of the hill, silhouetted against the pale morning sun. The sight of his presence was out of place enough for the two of them, and yet, it wasn't his hulking mass that froze the air in their lungs.

  It was his absolute stillness.

  The usual bluster, the dismissive scowl, the greasy aura of self-importance; it was gone. His chest shook with rage, but it wasn’t the grandiose volcanic eruption of a lost bet. No, this- this was the seething rage of a quiet, simmering kettle threatening to boil over. His eyes were that of a man holding back a monster by frayed ropes and white knuckles.

  The gulp in the air is audible. Masaru’s eyes turn away instinctively, as if refusing to acknowledge the danger would somehow make it go away. Beside her, Normcore’s frozen form began to quiver, slowly building through hitched breath into a full-body, uncontrollable spasm.

  "Which of you did it?"

  The voice that follows is devoid of its usual belligerence, the demand almost lost in the morning chatter that surrounds it. Even so, it bludgeons the two poor souls with the force of a lightning strike.

  “D-D-Did what?” Norm manages to stutter out a response. Her ears press firm against her head with an expression of bewilderment plastered on her face.

  “Don’t play dumb with me.” Kentaro marches over and yanks her up by the back of collar. “One of you two little shits ratted me out to the JRA. Which of you was it?”

  “What are you… Ratted? Huh?” Norm’s confusion betrays Masaru. She sweeps a glance at her, still suspended and dangling in the air, causing Kentaro’s gaze to swing towards her too.

  “I-I don’t know anything about that!” Masaru stumbles back, stammering, looking anywhere but at the raging ball of fat before her. She pushes out both her hands, waving them in front of her violently in a desperate attempt to deny her involvement.

  “One of you better fess up right now.” Kentaro’s eyes narrow. “Or you’re both gonna regret it.”

  Silence. Masaru’s heart beats wildly in her chest, desperately trying to mask the guilty look on her face. Kentaro’s glare seesaws between the two.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “So neither of you remember, huh? Maybe we’re not quite awake yet. Wind sprints, the two of you. Now.”

  He releases his grip on Norm, causing her to crash to the ground with a yelp. Masaru opens her mouth to protest-

  “Now!” Kentaro roars, spit flying out of his lips as his face starts to turn red.

  “Ee-eeeek!”

  Both of them jump, tail hairs spiking upright. Norm scrambles to her feet as Masaru spooks hard and bolts for the track, sneakers thundering on turf. The only thought in their minds was getting the hell away from the danger.

  “Y-You did it, didn’t you?” Normcore gasps as she hightails it around the first bend with a look of terror on her face. “Is this about what you tried to tell me yesterday?”

  “Not now!” Masaru hisses back, already feeling her breath starting to shorten. “Explaining now would only make things worse!”

  The two stumble their way to the finish. Norm slowly bends over, panting, Masaru practically doubling over on her knees with loud gasps. Kentaro watches with folded arms, his wrath now wholly focused on the two girls.

  “Still nothing, huh?” He impatiently taps his watch. “Guess we’ll. Do it again.”

  “Hwah?”

  Norm blinks softly, shooting a worrying glance at Masaru before walking back to the starting line. Masaru lifts her head with a dreaded look of despair, left with no choice but to follow despite being still out of breath.

  “What the hell did you do, Saru? I’ve never seen him this pissed…” Normcore whispers as Masaru approaches. “Maybe it’d be better if you owned up to things?”

  “No way!” She hisses back. “If I fess up, I’m dead!”

  “STOP SLACKING!” Kentaro roars from behind. The two bolt out again, ears pinned behind their heads. Masaru’s step was already starting to stagger by the second lap, her legs and lungs both burning and threatening to give out.

  “Haaaff.. Haaff…”

  She drew in desperate breaths with every stride, her muscles screaming and begging for the oxygen that was turning scarce by the second. Even so, she could barely get her head back up before Kentaro sent them off for another lap. Her world was starting to turn white by the fourth or fifth.

  “We really don’t know anything, trainer… please just…”

  Even Norm was starting to feel the fatigue settle in, sweat glistening on their foreheads and staggering back to the finish. Masaru had long since collapsed halfway through the run, her face firmly buried into the turf.

  “This would be a lot easier if you fess up right now. It would save your friend there a lot of trouble.”

  “Huh?” Norm’s face twists into confused indignance. “Me?!”

  “Yes, you.” Kentaro inches closer, shoving his forehead against Norm’s. “It’s always you causing me the damn trouble. I ain’t got a hair on your stupid grey head for proof but god damn it my gut tells me it’s you.”

  “I’ve got no clue what you’re talking about.” Normcore wipes an exasperated sweatdrop from her forehead- He certainly wasn’t lacking in gut. She stares back defiantly into his eyes, watching the soul of an unhinged lunatic debate whether he was going to get physical in a public space.

  “Not gonna confess? Fine then.” Kentaro backs up with a wave of his hand. “Squat jumps. Tell that brown-hair to get off the damn floor and quit sleeping.”

  Normcore throws a worried glance back to Masaru, who was twitching on the turf and half-passed out from exhaustion.

  “My gut hurts…”

  The cafeteria bustles with commotion as usual. Norm and Masaru gingerly shuffle their way through the crowd for a spot to sit, the latter looking like her soul had left her body. Her voice was hoarse as if she hadn’t drank water in days, her eyes blank and dull like glass, her soot-filled hair dusty and dishevelled like she had rolled her way down a mountain path.

  “Fatty’s acting like a lunatic. He’s actually gone insane. What the hell did you do?”

  Kentaro had stormed his way out midway through lunch when his phone rang, leaving the two in relative peace. Norm’s entire body shook in exhaustion from the simple act of raising a tray, her gut screamed in pain every time she tried to stand, and her legs straight up refused to obey her on some occasions.

  “Reported his shady shit to the JRA.” Masaru clamps her hand together, chopsticks in the center. She pauses for a second before breaking them open. “Itadakimasu.”

  “What kind?” Norm follows suit and breaks open a pair of her own.

  “Race records.” Masaru picks up a prawn tempura and takes a chomp, her stomach growling long before the meal. “He forged your race records to the Tracen board. The Unicorn Stakes? It wasn’t Tracen’s mistake. He was the one that the representative reached out to. Probably told them you were a Dirt runner.”

  Norm’s chopsticks pause in the air. Her expression stands frozen in place, her eyes fixated wholly upon the table. Her grip subtly tightens upon the bamboo before her teeth curl over her bottom lip in a growl.

  “Look, I know it sounds really bad, but there’s not much we can do about it now.”

  “That bastard…” Norm’s entire body trembles and quivers in half-contained fury, her blue eyes practically glowing. The meal, the exhaustion, the pain, it all faded away into static. She was seeing red. “That despicable, deplorable, revolting excuse of subhuman trash-”

  “Norm! Norm, calm down!” Masaru frantically tugs at her shoulder. “You need to focus on what’s coming next, not… Not what he’s done, that’s what you said, remember? That’s what you told me last night!”

  Norm wasn’t listening. Her ears were perked straight up in pure, uncontrollable rage. The chopsticks fold between her fingers with a loud crunch, causing a few nearby students to turn heads.

  “Norm, snap out of it! He’s already getting punished for it, that’s why he’s taking it out on us! Don’t you see?” Masaru drops her voice even lower, practically pleading for her to see reason at this point. “He’s cornered. He’s desperate. All we have to do is not let him break us, and he’ll burn himself out.”

  Norm’s expression slightly relaxes. Her breath, once rapid and ragged, slowly begins to simmer down into a few controlled gasps and sighs.

  “You’re right, Saru.” She slowly sets down her broken chopsticks. “Forgery of race records is a permanent license suspension. That bastard’s getting what’s coming.”

  She stands, her eyes downcast as the adrenaline crash hits.

  “Sorry. I shouldn't have lost my cool.”

  Kentaro didn’t return for the afternoon. Normcore presumed he was attending his disciplinary hearing. She swung by the dirt track for a quick impromptu session, but her body was far too exhausted to do any proper running.

  Her brain kicks into overdrive as she stands motionless on the outskirt of the track.

  She could endure the narcissism, for that was born of his twisted self-importance. She could tolerate the incompetence, for that was born of his nepotistic nature. She could even, by her own miracle brand of self-restraint, accept the physical abuse, even if it was something she never should’ve tolerated. An event horizon, however, was crossed when the man had just tried to strangle her career.

  For his own egotistical satisfaction.

  Because she made him look bad. Because she made him feel bad. Because she had rightfully shown him what an absolute fool he was.

  This was a new, profound depth of malice. It was one thing to be a petty, small-minded man; it was another to salt the earth so nothing could ever grow in his absence. This wasn’t about control, or violence, or even competence—it was a deliberate, calculated act of sabotage against her future, a final, desperate attempt to smother her light so his own pathetic flicker wouldn't look quite so dim.

  This was beyond insanity. This was the work of a deranged lunatic. It was the scorched earth policy a dictator would employ on his own land had the enemy pushed his army back to the brink of the capital.

  This was war.

  “Saru.” She speaks up with a sudden reflex that startles even herself. “Did you bring the dirt runners?”

  “Eh?” Masaru flinches from behind her with a surprised expression. “H-How’d you know I was here?”

  “Ah-” Her ears flicker. She looks around, slightly confused.

  How had she known? She was far too deep in thought to have paid attention, and yet her brain had subconsciously registered her presence as if there had been a radar mapping her surroundings.

  “This again, huh…” There was only one plausible explanation: She had, by some miracle, inadvertently tapped into the third dimension once more. “I thought it only happened when I was concentrating on making it work. What’s with it popping up here of all places?”

  “What’s with making what work?” Masaru sets the boots down with a frown on her face. “You’re not making sense again.”

  “...Nothing.” Normcore stares into the ground for a bit, then at Masaru, and finally, with a sigh, takes the boots. She leans down and begins to tie them together. She made sure to secure each lace as tight as she could, her fingers still straining with exhaustion.

  “Let’s go.” The pair of bright-pink cleats were her lifeline. She was going to dig herself out of the grave Kentaro had tried to bury her in, step by step. For the first time, she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. “Gotta make good use of every second.”

  “Wait, Norm.” Masaru catches her before she can spring off.” There’s something I’ve been wondering.”

  “What is it?”

  “What’d Katsura say to you yesterday? You know, that got you so shaken up?”

  “You wanna know?” Normcore lets out a small chuckle as she stands and stretches. “Well…”