A streak of soft morning sunlight bleeds through the blinds. Masaru slowly shuffles out of bed, reluctantly landing on the floor with a thump. She scratches her ruffled brown hair around before stretching with a high-pitched squeal, her brain still processing the fog of waking. It is then her ears twitch and notice that something is wrong.

  Her eyes drift towards the lower bunk, a mass of motionless blanket and silver hair that was Normcore still lying idle. Any other day she would be out for an hour, waking up Masaru with the sound of her return.

  “Norm? Are you alright?”

  Silence. She tosses a glance towards the clock, then back to her friend. They were about to be late for breakfast. Masaru swiftly steps over and begins to shake the mound back and forth, slowly at first, followed by increasing vigor until she manages to wrestle a semblance of life from the pile.

  “Wake up, we’re gonna be late.”

  She tugs at the blanket a few times relentlessly, only for Normcore to pull them right back over herself.

  “I-I’m good.” A semblance of dreary mumbling comes from beneath the sheets.

  “You… You’re skipping breakfast?”

  The question hangs in the air, yet the answer doesn’t come. Masaru lets out a sigh before walking to the wardrobe and pulling out her uniform. She wordlessly makes her way into the washroom, grooms herself and comes back out, met by the same stillness that lingered heavily in the air.

  “Just don’t be late for the first period, Norm.” She closes the door behind her with a click, despite her better judgement telling her that something was definitely wrong.

  “Everyone has their slow days. I’m sure Norm’ll be fine.”

  To her surprise, she enters the cafeteria to find Kentaro’s lumbering presence gone. Ironically, the bustling tables packed to the brim with students now felt quite empty. The lifting of his suffocating deportment combined with Norm’s absence formed a hollow chamber that caused her thoughts to erratically bounce at hypersonic speeds.

  Masaru squeezes between the crevices of two groups and absentmindedly scoops up some liquid rice. She had been wholly focused on Norm’s races, but now that she thought about it, she had a race of her own that was coming up. Granted, it was a month away, but she hadn’t done any specialized training. If she didn’t start now, she’d personally be waving goodbye with any chances of placing first.

  That is, if she even decided to stay.

  The mere thought of picking up the phone and talking to her parents makes her heart pound. She had pushed back the conversation time and again, hoping that by delaying it and focusing on what Norm was doing she would somehow find the situation easier to handle. It hadn’t.

  Her ears droop as her imagination starts running wild. She could imagine her mother’s disappointed expression, her father’s almost-cheerful voice that’d pull a strained cloth of support over his disheartened tone. He wasn’t a very verbose man, but there were always subtle tells of hurt that she had picked up on over the years.

  Masaru picks up the small bowl of rice and practically downs it in one gulp, scooping every last droplet clean and then some. It had always been her parents who encouraged her to finish every last bit of food- she could hear the voices in her head still.

  “Eat up, Masaru. That’s how you’ll grow.” Her mother would say as she scooped spoonfuls of rice into her bowl.

  She never complained, always finishing everything even if it made her sick. She knew it was for her own good.

  She remembers the way her mother beamed with pride when the acceptance letter came in the mail. The way her father hugged her so tight she thought she would pop. It was the happiest day of her life then. Now, looking back, she could see the cracks forming long before she had even left.

  That evening, her father's footsteps were heavier on the porch, the deep sigh he let out deeper than any she’d heard before. The dinner, which her mother usually prepared for a late man, was already cold. She didn’t need to ask- It was the way her mother didn’t chide him for being late, only reheating the dish with a quiet resignation, that Masaru knew he had picked up a second job.

  Slowly she stands, pulling herself back to the present. Perhaps it would all work out. Perhaps she’d ignite her passion of running with Kentaro now gone. She had, after all, promised Norm that she’d find what she’d want herself; and right now, she desperately wanted to be an aspiring runner.

  Kentaro isn’t present by the time first period rolls around. Strangely, neither is Norm. Masaru slowly and anxiously paces the racetrack, trying to rationalize her absence as a temporary phenomenon.

  Norm’s coming, she tells herself. It’s better to do her own training in the meantime. She hauls the box of training materials out of the storage room, ignoring that Norm was now ten minutes late. She retrieves a stopwatch and lines herself on the finishing line, trying to follow in Norm’s footsteps. She doesn’t see the man in a sports jacket in the distance, clipboard in hand as he grabs the attention of a few students passing by.

  Thhhff. The turf ripples beneath her sneakers as she bursts forward. She manages to hold a good pace for the majority of her run, and for a split second she’s almost optimistic that she can make things work.

  Then… the spurt comes. Her stamina funnels out faster than an unclogged drain, leaving her shambling in the final 200. She comes to a stop, huffing and panting, glancing at a stopwatch number that left her devestated.

  Her 1600 turf time wasn’t even close to Norm’s 1800 dirt time.

  Masaru takes a deep breath before returning to the finish line. She takes off once more, this time determined to cut down her time. Once. Twice. Thrice. She makes lap after lap until her performance starts getting worse by the trial, before finally slumping down on the greenery amidst scattered training aids.

  “...?”

  Her eyes subtly register movement in her peripheral. A figure approaches from the top of the hill, coming to a stop beside her. She looks up, expecting to see Norm, but it was a man she didn’t recognize.

  He looks young- almost too young- his hair was long and dischevelled like he had forgotten the concept of a barber.

  “Your pacing could use some work.”

  Masaru looks up, startled. He had the appearance of an undergrad fresh out of college, as if the ink on his diploma hadn’t dried yet. Tucked beneath his arms was a clipboard, his demeanor rather carefree, yet the undeniable glimmering pin on his chest was the crest of none other than Tracen Academy.

  “I-I suppose so,” Masaru sighed, sitting up. “Sorry, who are you?”

  “Oh! Right. Ah-” The young man stammered, his carefree demeanor shattering under nerves. “Was that… too much? Unsolicited advice?”

  “No! Not at all!” Masaru’s own panic flared, mirroring his. “It’s just, uh, trainers from Tracen don’t just show up here. So, like…”

  She trails off, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air as the two collectively bluescreen on the spot. It’s a good minute before either of them speak up again.

  “...Right. I’m here on official business, and I asked a few students over there, and they said you know this person I’m looking for…” The trainer finally gathers his thoughts, shuffling through his clipboard as he springs to life. “So I came over, but I didn’t want to interrupt, since you were in the middle of training, so I figured I’d wait and break the ice with- you know what, nevermind. Do you know Normcore?”

  “Indeed I do.” Masaru’s ears perk up. “But she’s decided to go AWOL today.”

  “Fantastic. Would you mind helping me find her then?”

  “Sure thing. Just, uh… let me put all this stuff back first.”

  The two slowly make their way up the stairs and into the dormitories.

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  “Norm?” Masaru gingerly knocks on the door, but there’s no response. Her ears droop in resignation, realising she could be very well still asleep. “Uh... One sec.”

  She cracks the door and slips in, trying to make sure Norm was at least decent.

  “Norm. Wake up. There’s a representative from Tracen-”

  Her voice falters. The lower bunk was a tangled mess of sheets, but it was empty.

  A cold prickle of anxiety runs down her spine. She does a quick scan of the room, tossing the blanket aside, her eyes darting to the empty space between the bed and the wall. She even pushes the bathroom door open for good measure, yet the silence within was telling enough.

  Norm was gone. The blinds were still drawn, just as she’d left them, casting the room in a gloomy, orange-tinted light.

  “That’s weird… She was here when I left for breakfast this morning. Sorry about that.”

  Her heart was practically pounding in second-hand embarrassment now. Norm was absent the one time she needed to be here. Of all the days to be gone, it was the one where Masaru was forced to lead a National Trainer onto a wild goose chase.

  “No worries. I’ve got all day.” The trainer gives a nod, nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe. Despite his carefree demeanor, Masaru continues to sweat bullets- Every second of her being AWOL was a second of bad impression.

  “L-Let’s check around. I’ve got a few ideas of where she might be.”

  Creak. The door to the fitness center swings open as Masaru peeks her head in. “...Norm?” The room looks abandoned, but she calls out to make sure. Frustrated, she whips out her phone and begins to dial. Half of her prays that Norm will pick up, the other half thinking about strangling her.

  Masaru’s call hangs for a few moments before going to voicemail. “The subscriber you are trying to reach is currently unavailable-”

  “Okay. I know where she is now.” She lets out a profoundly resigned sigh, briskly marching down the hall with her voice straining in half-boiling anger. “If she’s not answering her phone, then that means she’s distracted, and if she’s distracted, that means-”

  She leads the trainer at a brisk pace through a series of increasingly deserted hallways, away from the dorms and training grounds, toward the academic wing. She approaches the door labelled “Media Archives”, throwing it open with a clatter. A small, dark room comes into view, illuminated only by the ghostly blue glow of a large monitor. There, slumped in a chair, her silver hair almost white in the monitor's light, was Normcore.

  Masaru opens her mouth to demand a response, only to be cut off by the trainer putting his hand out. He nudges her and gives a quick jab towards the screen.

  “Japanese Derby.” He whispers, crossing his arms. “Let her finish.”

  Her gaze slowly drifts back towards the room. The pack was rounding the final stretch on the Tokyo Racecourse, a blistering blur of bodies rushing for the forefront. The commentator’s voice brought itself to a frantic, rising crescendo as the girls began to make their move.

  “...and it’s a wall of will and might as they head straight for home! Epoca d’Oro in the lead, but she’s being pressed hard by Cosmic Force! The pack below is jostling wildly, but no one can find a clear path forward!”

  Normcore’s eyes remain frozen upon the screen, glittering in the soft blue hue of the monitor. But she wasn’t focused on the leader. Her gaze drifted a few spots back towards the rear.

  “Danon Premium making a rush from the back! The pack comes in with four contenders jostling for a podium finish down the straight!”

  She could see it. The flicker of Bay hair. The lowered stance of a beast springed to explode. Kaibara had seen it dozens of times before, and now she was perched in third-

  “Epoca d’Oro’s holding strong! She’s been here since the start! But wait, it’s-”

  Thumpf. The turf flies up beneath her feet as a blur of reddish-brown ripples through the pack. Crouched low and sprinting forward was the familiar silhouette of a dark horse stayer, her movements frenetic like a madman with nothing left to lose.

  “...It’s Wagnerian! Wagnerian! Look at that power! Look at that resolve! I don’t believe it!”

  There was no denying it now. She was running beyond the passion of the race. She was running for something more than herself. Her arms swung wildly as she gained upon the leader like a death omen.

  “Wagnerian’s overtaken Cosmic Force! She’s overtaken Etario! My goodness! She’s ferocious! She’s relentless! She’s gonna take home the finish first!”

  The camera pans. Caught in the center of a shot was a desperate, silent scream, bobbing and weaving beneath her swinging bangs and flying sweatdrops. Wagnerian was pushing with gritted teeth through the last of her strength, leaving every last strand of her being upon the racetrack as she throws herself forward with all that she had-

  “Wagnerian! She’s pulling ahead! She’s holding strong!”

  The blur of reddish-brown bolts past the finish in a triumphant charge, coming to a stop at the end of the track. The girls slowly file forward, the camera panning to the victor who was now happily waving at the camera.

  “By half a length- It’s Wagnerian! She takes home the title of the 84th Japanese Derby!”

  The screen erupted in cheers and confetti, the perfect victor taking home a perfect triumph. And yet, somewhere beneath the tears of joy, beneath the brilliant smile and the frantic waving, a profound, desolate empty glitter of regret stuck out like a splinter.

  It vanished as quickly as it came, enough for Masaru to wonder if it had been a trick of the light. The tape continues to roll, Norm remaining silent and unmoving in her seat as the race moved to the post-match interview.

  “Phenomenal success, Wagnerian-tan. You ran with incredible resolve out there.”

  “Thanks.” Her voice was soft, her tone noncommittal. She sounded more relieved than happy, her eyes gazing into the distance as if her mind had long since departed the room. Masaru wasn’t imagining it- Something was definitely wrong.

  “Well, taking into account what has happened recently, It’s even more remarkable that you were able to adapt to a new trainer so quickly. Not many runners are able to do that, so congratulations. Do you have anything you’d like to say?”

  “...Yes.” Wagnerian’s ears, half drooped, twitch slightly. “I’d like to dedicate this victory to Akihiko-san. He was the first to believe in my potential, and without him, I would not be here.”

  “Yes, it’s truly tragic that he passed so early. Now, if he was listening at this moment, what would you say to him?”

  Click. The monitor suddenly shuts off, causing Masaru to flinch. Norm turns abruptly, burying herself into the cushions.

  “..Norm?” Masaru’s voice causes her ears to snap up.

  “Not now.” Her voice trembles. There was a note of profound grief that rippled violently through the air. “Go away, Saru.”

  “I- there’s someone here to see you.”

  Her head snaps up, two tear-glistened eyes narrowing in the blinding light that came through the doorway. Her eyes eventually focus in and settle on the trainer’s badge, who in turn gives a soft wave. “Bad time?”

  Masaru silently mouths a “get up” towards her. Normcore shuffles lethargically, groaning softly before rolling herself off the couch. She looked terrible- her eyes dull and lifeless, her hair fraying and messy like chicken wire, and her ears looked like they wanted to fuse with her skull.

  “N-No, it’s fine.” She mumbles, making her way to the trainer. She slowly eyes him up and down in confusion. “Y-You are?”

  “Hiroyuki Kento.” The trainer puts out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Normcore hesitantly takes his hand. Masaru was internally screaming now- just how bad of a first impression could she possibly give someone?

  “Well, uh, I see it’s one of those days, huh?” Kento gives an awkward chuckle before retrieving his clipboard. “Regardless, I’m here to talk about the Unicorn Stakes. Since there’s been a change in circumstances, we’re willing to shift your race to one at a later date, and more importantly… on a surface you’re more comfortable with. Now, if you’d like us to do that, I’ll go ahead and relay that to the board so we can open up a spot for one of the reserve runners.”

  “...No. The current arrangement is fine.”

  Kento’s pen freezes in the air, Masaru’s jaw practically dropping to the floor. Her head swivels hard enough to make her neck hurt, her eyes wider than dinner plates.

  “Are you sure?” He repeats, a hint of something straining in his voice. Was it surprise? Was it admiration? Was it complete and utter disbelief at her audacity? Masaru couldn’t quite tell.

  “Yes.” Norm replies with a resolve that told them there was no changing her mind. Masaru’s protests die in her throat, watching in horror as Kento blinks in astonishment.

  “Well… okay.” He says, rustling through his pockets. “In that case, I’ve been instructed to give you these.”

  He pulls out two tickets for the bullet train and hands them to Normcore. She slowly takes them and lowers her gaze to read the departure time.

  “Normally, you’d have your trainer accompany you on those trips, but he’s currently suspended. I do suggest that you bring a responsible chaperone on the trip, but I’m confident you’re able to sort that out by yourself.”

  Masaru’s gaze was frantically flickering between the two, a dreaded sense of finality settling in her. She opened her mouth to protest, yet the words wouldn’t come. They jumbled up in her throat, leaving her mouth sputtering incoherently. Was it even her place to press the issue in a situation like this?

  “Regardless, if you’d like to change your mind, you can reach me at my email.” Kento retrieves his business card and hands it to Normcore. “Just please don’t do it the day of the Unicorn Stakes, okay?”

  For a moment he looked quite uncertain, shuffling uncomfortably in his shirt. Without another word, he waves goodbye and departs.

  “What the hell were you thinking? Are you insane?!” Masaru explodes with the fury of a thousand suns before Kento’s silhouette disappears down the stairway, yanking her by the collar and aggressively shaking her back and forth. “Have you lost your mind, Norm? You haven’t run a single dirt race in your life! Why’d you tell him no?”

  “I’m going to be fine, Saru.”

  “No, you’re not! You’re not getting any other chances after this! This was your way out and you spat on it! Are you seriously gonna sell your dream short because you were too stubborn to change your mind?!”

  Masaru finally calms down enough to stop shaking Norm, her chest heaving.

  "No, really, it's fine."

  "You-" A snarl catches between her lips, causing her to shove Norm away. Masaru storms down the stairs, caught in the complete utter disbelief that someone could be so suicidal. "-forget it. You've got a screw loose somewhere."

  Wordlessly, Norm returns to the couch, ejects the tape, and puts in a second.