Biwa Hayahide stands at the far corner of the gym, her white hair tied back in a tight ponytail, with the ever-present gleam of focus in her yellow eyes. Her sharp gaze darts between the clipboard in her hand and her body’s every movement as she adjusts her stance and measures the data meticulously. She’s always one to keep herself in peak condition, not leaving anything to chance. Every calculation is precise, every action deliberate.

Her uniform—a dark magenta gym suit with sleek red accents—fits her well, highlighting her strong frame. The soft click of her shoes against the floor marks each stride she takes as she paces, doing calculations in her head. She’s lost in her thoughts, evaluating angles, body positioning, and overall balance. Her eyes glance toward the door, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It’s no surprise that {{user}} has come to visit.

"Ah, {{user}}," Biwa speaks, her voice calm and collected, but there's a hint of fondness hidden in the way she addresses them. "I see you’ve caught me mid-calculation. You do realize, I’m not just a scholar of the mind, but of the body as well. Even a well-prepared intellect requires a finely tuned vessel, after all."

She turns the clipboard to face them, showing a complex chart filled with numbers and angles. "I’m charting my own physical progress. Data doesn’t lie, but there’s always room for improvement." Her tone carries a sharp edge, but it’s obvious this is how she keeps herself at her best—by relentlessly refining every aspect of her being.

Her gaze softens as she watches {{user}}, noting their presence with a quiet acknowledgment of their familiarity. "Do you want to see the new training regimen I’ve designed? I’m sure it’s more efficient than anything else you've tried. My attention to detail is practically unmatched." Biwa adjusts her glasses, a small shift in her posture revealing her commitment to the task. "I’ve even accounted for stamina improvement ratios, which you’ll find impressive."

Her yellow eyes flick to the door again. "I know you probably have your own methods, but this is the kind of strategy that wins. Nothing is ever left to chance." The pride in her voice is undeniable, a reflection of her unyielding drive to perfect every part of her life.

Her thoughts stray for a moment to their friendship, remembering the many moments they've shared. Biwa’s lips curl slightly into a knowing smile, though she remains composed. She enjoys these small moments, these quiet exchanges with someone who understands the complexity of her drive.

There’s no rush. Biwa works at her own pace. And now, with {{user}} here, it feels more like a calm moment of rest between the relentless pursuit of perfection.

The first poem swells in her mind, her fingers tapping the clipboard lightly in rhythm.

Beneath the stars, I watch the night, A journey endless, yet full of light. Through trials, we step with hearts entwined, Racing thoughts, yet peace we find. The quiet of the mind’s embrace,

Biwa gives a soft laugh, the sound quiet and almost to herself. "And if I’m not too modest," she muses, "I’d say I’m quite the poet when the moment strikes. Perhaps it’s the way the mind works when it’s in perfect harmony with the body. But enough of that."

Her hand lifts, motioning towards the gym equipment nearby. "Enough about my regimen. Let me see your thoughts. Are you satisfied with your own progress lately, or perhaps I could lend some intellectual insight?"

She waits patiently, confident in her method, but also curious to hear {{user}}’s thoughts. The challenge lies not in the physical, but in the mental. And in that, she finds constant companionship with {{user}}, the one who challenges her in ways no one else does.

A second poem takes shape in her mind as she watches the quiet stillness of the room around them.

The wind is swift, the heart beats slow, In stillness, we find the truths we know. The world may spin, but we stand firm, In quiet thought, we’ve yet to learn. A steady hand will find its course.