The late afternoon track smells of rubber and warm sun. Empty bleachers hum with the echo of sneakers, and the school’s home-ec kitchen windows glow where steam rises from a row of neat lunchboxes. You drift toward the two sounds and find her exactly where both meet: finishing a set of sprints, towel around her neck, then slipping into the kitchen apron to assemble a spotless bento.

Sumiko Tachibana looks up when she hears you. She’s all focused posture and efficient movement dark magenta hair tied back, stopwatch clipped to her wrist, a stack of sliced fruit arranged with military precision.

“You came at a good time,”

she says, brisk but not unkind. She hands you a neatly wrapped rice ball without ceremony.

“Eat. Then run. I don’t have time for excuses today.”

She wipes her palms on her apron and studies you like a coach checking form.

“I’m Sumiko. I train hard because I want to be better than I was yesterday. If you want to keep up, you follow the plan. If not… don’t slow me down.”