The two make their way back in swift silence, Kento flipping through his clipboard as he walks.

  “The first order of magnitude, of course,” he says at last, “is figuring out where you stand on the distance scale. We should figure out whether you’re a sprinter or a stayer, and then what type of turf suits you best.”

  Norm throws him a sideways glance.

  “Looking at your racing history, you’ve mainly been running 1,600 to 1,800 meter races, with one or two 1,900s…” He pauses to scan a line of text. “And, Ah. Of course, the Unicorn Stakes. On paper, that would qualify you as a Miler.”

  He lifts his cup and takes a quick sip.

  “Though, the paper is often wrong.”

  Norm’s ears give a slight twitch as she lifts an eyebrow.

  “Seeing how you managed to hold out in the Unicorn Stakes, however-” He gestures vaguely ahead with his pen. “it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to say you'd be fine with Medium distance races either.”

  The two pass along the riverside where they came, ginkgo leaves fluttering in the air as they pass beneath the trees.

  “Your acceleration is quite excellent. That’s good.” He pushes a branch out before him. “Acceleration is the bread and butter of a good Miler, allowing you to either overtake from the back or break away from the front.”

  Norm lets out a sharp yelp as it comes flying back at her face.

  “-Augh!”

  “Sorry.” He flashes a small, apologetic smile, before turning back to his clipboard as if nothing had happened. “But… that’s not really what you want, is it?”

  Norm blinks the tears out of her eyes, slowly rubbing her forehead where she had been struck. She eventually comes to, staring back with one eye and one ear folded down.

  “You figured?” She mutters back.

  “Someone who simply wants to run Miles wouldn’t just declare that she’d want to ‘win the Triple Tiara’.” He replies slowly. “You don’t want to settle. You want to swing for the fence and take a crack at the big races.”

  He lowers his pencil and points it at her.

  “You want to be heard. You want to be known.”

  Normcore’s stride falters.

  “Every declaration you’ve made, every race you ran, every step you’ve taken up until now… That was you, trying to make your statement.”

  He strides forward a few steps before turning back with a knowing smile.

  “Because I know, for a fact,” he says, tapping the side of his temple lightly with the pencil, “that a pure-blooded miler would have found little reason to obsess over recordings of the Japanese Derby.”

  He continues.

  “At that moment, the Unicorn Stakes should’ve been your world. Most would have dedicated everything to the finishing line. But you.”

  A whistling breeze blows through the air as the two lock gazes.

  “You were looking beyond that.”

  Kento’s eyes glitter with a knowing grin between his lips.

  “Stupid? Debatable. Audacious? Most definitely. Some call it blindness. I’d call it ambition. And I say ambition’s pretty good.”

  An unhinged smile slowly traces from the corner of his mouth and outwards. Norm’s breath catches in her throat. She opens her mouth, then closes it.

  There was nothing more to be said.

  “I don’t fly with the dime-a-dozen city girls who run for nothing but fun. Give me a beat-up peasant from the sticks and I’ll bring home Seven Crowns and the L’Arc.”

  A small chuckle leaves her. Her lips slowly curl upwards with a tinge of amusement, something willing up before bursting out in uncontrollable laughter.

  He echoes her.

  “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “It takes one to know one, you Ash-colored menace.”

  Several bystanders turn in their direction with surprised looks. Norm didn’t care.

  She was no stranger to being looked at. This was the first time she felt seen.

  “Talk about selling your soul to the devil, huh?”

  She clamps a hand over a mouth, unable to stop the giggling beneath her breath. It lasts long enough to make her stomach hurt.

  "I'm in."

  She finally exhales.

  “Show me the damn gate.”

  The sky over Tracen is no longer silver.

  By the time they crest the rise toward the training grounds, it has long melted into a vast, delicate shade of blue. Scattered students run about, chattering, squealing, some hurrying through classrooms. A breeze rolls across the campus from east, carrying with it the scent of turf and rubber.

  “Since it’s still quite early, I’ve called the team together for a morning exercise.” Kento gives a quick wave, bag beneath his arm as he makes his way to the track. “Don’t worry, there won’t be one every morning.”

  Norm spots a familiar tuft of messy brown hair in the distance, dressed in a red tracksuit with white stripes.

  “Yer late, trainer-face!”

  Herbe’s ear-piercing screech is unmistakable.

  “I figured it would be good for you to meet your team.” Kento gestures to the girls near the by-line, ignoring her completely. “Of course, judging by your reaction, I think you’ve already met… all of them.”

  Le Vent Se Leve perches herself against the railing. Her chocolate-colored skin looks a shade darker against the white striped tracksuit, and Norm lifts her hand to give an awkward wave.

  Slowly, Leve’s gaze settles over Norm. She looks her up and down- the blazer, the skirt, the socks and bow-tie. She says nothing- and just stares.

  Long enough for Norm to check her own sleeves.

  “Is there… something on me?” Norm mutters, patting herself down.

  Leve lets out a soft exhale before turning and walking in the other direction, leaving Norm to blink in her own confusion.

  “Ah. Good morning, Norm.”

  A melodic voice behind her makes her jump. She turns to find herself face to face with Danon, her smile looking even warmer than usual.

  “How are you feeling? Better?”

  Her stomach twists itself into a knot. Her face goes bright red, a tinge of pang rising from the bottom of her throat, her mind replaying how she had bolted from a question she herself had asked.

  “Y-Yeah. Better.” She manages to stammer out an incoherent response.

  Herbe’s loud complaint cuts through the air before Danon can respond.

  “Wait. This…” She lifts the ankle tape out, inspecting it by flipping the roll back and forth. “You got the wrong type, dumbass.”

  “That’s on you.” Kento replies matter-of-factly. “You didn’t specify what kind you wanted.”

  “Huh?!” Herbe’s voice kicks up into high gear again.

  Danon turns, letting out an apologetic sigh.

  “Is it just me, or is Herbe even louder than usual?” Norm softly rubs the back of her ears, feeling a migraine rising from the back of her head. “I mean, I haven’t even known her that long, but even this-”

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  “She’s usually quieter. It’s not just you.” Danon pulls her aside, the two making way to the second bend. “She’s just… not happy about having to get up early today.”

  “Figured. I really don’t envy Trainer having to deal with all this-” Norm leans down to stretch, only for Danon to tap her on the shoulder.

  “Your Uniform.” She softly whispers. “Morning practice is tracksuits.”

  Leve’s snort suddenly hits her like a semi-truck. A soft breeze runs past her legs, lifting the edges up enough to peep the top of her socks.

  Norm shoots upright with a deep blush.

  “Go change.” Danon pulls out a tracksuit, pressing it into her chest. “Just remember to switch back for class, okay?”

  By the time she hurries back, the group is already making laps around the track.

  “Good! You’re back.” Kento calls from the side, stopwatch in his hands. “Go and join the others. Danon’s leading.”

  She casts her gaze across the bend.

  Herbe is already five lengths ahead, bolting across the track and cackling like mad. Danon reaches out, yelling something lost in the wind as she hurries behind the shark-toothed gremlin. Norm’s gaze slowly drifts backwards, finally spotting Le Vent Se Leve trailing behind the pack by two lengths.

  She’s barely got one eye open.

  “...K.”

  She makes her way onto the track and merges in as Danon runs by. Her brow is slightly furrowed, small droplets of sweat covering her forehead.

  “Hi, Norm!” She waves cheerfully, kicking up small bits of turf beneath her with each step.

  “So much for leading, huh?” Norm chuckles back.

  “It’s Herbe-chan.” Danon sighs. “That’s what she usually does. Leve-chan, on the other hand…”

  She casts a worried glance behind her.

  Le Vent Se Leve looks like she’s about to drift off. Her stance is practically perfect, each step hitting turf in metronome like beats. Her hands swung by her side in picturesque motion, her knuckles reaching the same height each time they were brought forward.

  It didn’t look like she was even trying.

  “She looks like she’s having an off day.” Danon mutters.

  “..?! That’s her having an off day?” Norm hisses.

  “Not sure. I’ll have to check.” Danon replies before calling out behind her. “Leve-chan! Are you okay? Do we need to take a break?”

  Leve cracks open one eye, stares at Danon, then goes back to dozing.

  “Okay!” Danon replies cheerfully. “If you say so!”

  Norm’s head felt like it was going to implode.

  “...But she didn’t say any-”

  “She’s not someone of many words.” Danon shakes her head. “But if she wanted to stop, she would’ve stopped.”

  Norm falls silent.

  She wasn’t quite sure she knew how the world worked anymore.

  The group rounds the bend and straightens onto the backstretch. The turf rustles softly beneath her feet as she settles into a rhythm. Somewhere ahead, Herbe screeches like a war siren. Norm glances sideways, finding herself matching Danon’s mark.

  “...”

  She grimaces. A small resistance coils at the base of her calves, stretching up into her quads and forming tension. Cruise speed should not have taken this much effort to maintain.

  Was it the pace?

  Was it the form?

  What was she doing wrong?

  Her eyes drift up and down, desperately trying to spot the difference. Their movement practically mirrored one another- but that wasn’t quite right. Danon’s steps were quick, maintained, her feet gliding over the grass with clean, effortless strides.

  In contrast, something just wouldn’t click with her own.

  “You’re forcing the distance. Don’t.”

  Danon’s breathy gasp comes from beside her. Norm spooks hard- and nearly trips.

  “You don’t have my reach. Compensate for it with a faster pace.”

  She quickly adjusts the pace of her steps, shortening the length of her stride.

  The strain immediately shifts, her thighs breathing a sigh of relief. Her back slowly straightens, the two running at equal height now.

  “You’ve got a shorter stride length.” Danon continues, still looking forward. “And you were subconsciously trying to force it.”

  “I see.” Norm looks down. “And that led to me being inefficient…”

  “It happens to everyone.” Danon cracks a faint smile.

  “That’s all?” Norm’s ears give an irritated twitch now that the harmony of matching steps was broken. “Stride distance?”

  “Yes.” Danon replies, her hair swinging. “It’s about choosing the optimal stride length and getting used to it. Happens to every new runner.”

  “...No.”

  Norm’s tone suddenly drops.

  “That’s not it.”

  Danon’s ears twitch with a faint interest.

  The two come around the bend, Norm drifting to the right as Danon shifts to give her the inside lane.

  “You and I stand at the same height. Naturally, that should mean we have the same optimal stride length.”

  Danon smiles but doesn’t respond.

  “But your stride length- It’s abnormally long for someone your height.” Norm pushes on. “You’re able to maintain it without straining yourself like I did. Why?”

  Her eyes snap sideways.

  Despite running on the outside lane, Danon was still keeping up with her.

  “...I see. It’s that abnormal leg-to-body ratio of yours, isn’t it?”

  A knowing smile curls on the edge of Danon’s lips.

  “Longer strides are inherently advantageous when it comes to running.” Norm continues. “Even if you and I cover the same amount of ground, you can do it in far fewer steps. If I want to match your time, I have to either lengthen my strides or pick up my pace. That’s unnecessary energy being spent.”

  “That’s correct.” Danon replies, still averting her gaze.

  “But that advantage comes at a cost.” A frenzied fire burns in Norm’s eyes. “To get longer strides, you’d naturally have to be taller. But height is a handicap when it comes to long-distance racing.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Norm gasps, an airless breath leaving her lips.

  “The inverse square cube law,” Her lips were outrunning her lungs. “More muscle mass generates more heat. The more skin someone has, the more heat they dissipate.”

  She swallows air, stumbles, and straightens out again.

  “In theory, those two things should be equal. But it isn’t. Growth isn’t linear.”

  The world around her spirals slightly. She presses on anyway.

  “Efficiency’s determined by the ratio of volume to surface area. And muscle mass always grows faster than skin.”

  Norm waits for Danon to respond. She doesn’t.

  “That brings us back to you. Your legs-” Her gaze flies down, then back up to meet Danon’s. “they’re abnormally long for someone your height. That lets you take far longer strides without any tradeoffs.”

  The two come out the bend, Danon listing slightly ahead before slowly falling in line with Norm.

  “That advantage of yours isn’t technical. It’s biological. It’s baked into your physique. No amount of training can ever compensate for that.”

  Neither say a word for the next few steps.

  “I’m right… aren’t I?”

  Norm’s question comes out more like a low hissing demand.

  “I’m impressed.” Danon slowly replies. “Leve-chan’s right when she says you’re more dangerous than you look.”

  A loud clap rings through the air as the group come across Kento holding a stopwatch. Herbe is already hunched over by his side, hands on knees, gasping.

  “Okay, everyone! That’s enough for a morning exercise.” He looks down at his watch. “We’ve only got half an hour before breakfast, so cool down, stretch, and change. And Norm-”

  He gestures to pull her aside.

  “-About your onboarding.”

  “Yes, Trainer?” She wipes the sweat from her brow as she hurries over. Her tail slowly swishes back and forth as she tries to catch her breath.

  “The Secretary will be handling your onboarding.” He taps his pencil on the clipboard. “You’ll find her in front of the classrooms first thing after breakfast.”

  The rest of the morning goes by in a blur. The stretches were done in silence- Norm silently stewing over the injustice of leg length and all- and breakfast goes by even faster. Herbe had kicked up a quite racket by knocking over Leve’s bowl of rice and sending it crashing to the floor, but Norm was simply grateful to just eat food in peace.

  Danon in particular seemed particularly unbothered by last evening’s events, enough so for Norm to wonder if she had simply let things go. Then again, she wasn’t too eager to push about the meltdown she’d manufactured herself.

  Bzzt. Her phone vibrates as she’s lost in thought.

  “Mm.” She mumbles with a mouthful of food, wiping off pieces of wet rice still sticking to her cheek. With great difficulty, she swallows before standing. “I gotta leave for onboarding. I’ll come meet you all in class.”

  “Okay! Take care!” Danon waves back as Norm hurries out the door.

  Down the stairs. Left. Then right. She’s still frantically patting down her slightly-wrinkled uniform as she comes careening round the corner with a screech.

  “Good morning~”

  And Tazuna’s attire is as perfect as she can remember. A round green cap sits above locks of long brown hair, same color as the pencil skirt snugly wrapped around her legs. Her green office uniform is buttoned up cleanly without creases, a dress shirt peeking out at the very tip top alongside a yellow tie.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance! I’m Norm.” She throws herself into a deep breathless bow. “I’ll be in your care from now on.”

  “Likewise. I’m Tazuna, secretary of Tracen Academy.” She lightly bows in response. “Pleased to make your acquaintance as well.”

  “I-I’m not late, am I?” Norm straightens herself, catching her breath in the process.

  “Quite the opposite- You’re right on time.” Tazuna smiles back. “Come on. I’ll show you your classroom.”

  The two make their way down a long hallway, Tazuna’s hands nearly tucked together before her. Norm’s heart pounds loudly in her own ribcage, a thousand thoughts firing off in her head at once.

  The hallway feels longer than she remembers.

  Click, click, click. Tazuna’s heels strike the polished floor in calm, even beats. Norm’s shoes follow their call half a second late, and she scurries ahead to catch up.

  An abrupt bout of laughter erupts from behind a closed door, sending her ears shooting upright. Her hands instinctively fly up to her chest, fussing down the front of her uniform again.

  She knows it’s not directed at her. It doesn’t help.

  “There’s no need to be nervous.” Tazuna says.

  A loud gulp echoes in the air, her palms damp between tightly gripped fists. The assurance does little to stifle her still-skittish nerves.

  “There’s nothing on me, right?” She mutters, aggressively slapping down the front of her uniform again. “I don’t have crumbs or anything… sticking to my face?”

  “You’ll be alright.” Comes the response. “We’re here.”

  Tazuna comes to a stop before a plain wooden door, gesturing at it with an open palm. Norm comes to a stop in the doorway-

  “Ah! You must be the new student.”

  The teacher’s voice detonates like a bomb.

  Two dozen gazes turn towards her in an instant, the color draining from her face. Her ears pin back sharply, shoot straight up, then flatten downwards. A deep shudder runs down her spine, her tail bristling outwards uncontrollably.

  She forces a smile anyway.

  “H-Hello!” The color drains from her face as she forces herself to step in. “Nice to meet you all. My name’s Normcore.”

  A hushed silence settles over the room. The temperature drops by ten degrees.

  She gets a feeling that they already know.