There was about ten minutes to spare when I got back to the academy. It would barely be enough time to shovel down my lunch, but I wasn't hungry at the moment. After the meltdown I just had and my aching stomach, food was the last thing on my mind. Instead, I walked through the empty hallways toward my next class. Immediately having a gym class scheduled after lunch seemed counterintuitive, but I didn't make the rules here. Occasionally, I passed a few students who seemed uninterested in me. Not that I blamed them, I could feel the blacked aura that shrouded both my body and mind. I'm sure my expression wasn't all to friendly either.

Nonetheless, I treaded sullenly toward the locker rooms. When I arrived, I pushed open the door to find it empty. The slightest bit of tension released from my shoulders and I walked over to my assigned locker to retrieve my uniform. As I unlocked and stared into the metallic void, I recalled how the weather was slowly getting warmer. Soon, the teachers would demand we wear our summer uniforms. The thought of having my forearms on display caused a knot to form in my chest. Hopefully, the weather would stay cool long enough for me to escape that reality.

Pausing, I chuckled to myself. By long enough, I was referring to that ever looming countdown above my head. For once that damned deadline relieved my stress instead of adding to it. I never thought I'd see the day I'd be thankful to be dead so soon.

I shook my head at myself and grabbed my winter uniform before heading toward the bathroom. I changed in peace before exiting the stall and walking out of the locker room. In the hallway, dozens of students were roaming about. The bell had either rang or was just about to if everyone was already headed toward their next class. It was unimportant, though, and I moved past a few bodies before entering the gymnasium.

I'd been correct as the first bell rang when I passed through the doors, signaling the end of lunch. Within the next few minutes, more of my peers would change and join me. With my little free time, I sat on the glossy hardwood and began stretching. My mind wandered as I did so, but my thoughts weren't anything remarkable. If anything, I found myself numbed as I flickered through my memory of lunchtime. I hadn't any clue as to why I stopped myself from cutting. It had felt like I'd hit a brick wall and simply couldn't. I'd have to mull over my actions later and see if I could find any reasoning behind my hesitation.

The final bell rang and I jumped slightly. My eyes flickered around the gym, realizing that I'd zoned out so deeply I hadn't noticed my classmates appearing. One by one, the copied my actions and began stretching their limbs to prepare for the inevitable exercise. It only took a few more moments before our coach entered, a clipboard in his hands. Even from a distance, I could see the stack of papers held firmly under the metal clasp.

"Good afternoon," he stated with an upbeat tone. It was always the physical education teachers with the most energy. I could only imagine they lived on fatal amounts of caffeine or thrived on their students pain, otherwise there was no explanation to their constant chipper attitude. "You've all been through this before, so you know exactly what's coming up. For the next week, we will be partaking in the semesters fitness testing to see how you score against your autumn records." A collective groan came from my peers, but he ignored their complaints. Tucking the clipboard under his arm, he gestured toward the walls behind him. "Everyone meet outside by the track. Since today is warm, we will be doing the 1600 meter run."

An even louder groan swept across the crowd as I pushed myself up to stand. The bitching didn't stop as we moved out of the gymnasium and toward the academy's exit doors. Most of the students here weren't the athletic type. Due to its prestigious reputation, most kids were either spectacular athletes, or the kind of rich kid that cried at a scraped knee. There was rarely any in-between. These fitness tests seemed highly skewed by the aforementioned athletes, leaving the rest of the school struggling to keep up their marks.

Not that I had any issue with it. Considering my heritage and my constant training for cram school; this would be easy.

At the track, our teacher split us into two groups. I was separated into the first group to run and we were ordered to step onto the rubbery pavement. We were allowed to go at our own pace, passing each other if need be since the track wasn't wide enough for single file. Since I was stationed at the back, I figured I could push myself a bit to get myself closer to the front before evening out into a comfortable pace for the remainder of the laps. I had no intention of exerting myself, and I knew I could outrun most — if not all of my classmates. But I didn't care to, I wasn't here to set any records, and doing so would only cause me unnecessary attention.

The sound of a whistle threw us into action and pulled me from my mind. I took off into a sprint, passing several students who chose to walk the entirety of the test. My soles thudded against the ground in a steady pattern, my months of training making it feel like I was almost skating on air as I ran. My head remained level, and my torso didn't seem to change distance from the ground as I drove myself forward. It was one of the first things we were taught in cram school: how to run away from danger. You couldn't waste energy by going against aerodynamics, and gravity should work in your favor. As I passed a dozen more teenagers, I saw them doing the exact opposite. Their heels were striking the tar, ricocheting it up their shins to be absorbed by the thin cartilage of the knee. They'd tire quickly with that kind of form, but I wasn't about to tell them that.

It was only when I saw a handful of other students ahead of me that I slowed down my speed to fall in line behind them. I'd stay here until the end of the test, which would give me a fairly average result. I drew in a deeper breath, feeling my heart pound inside my ribcage. It was always exhilarating to move my body, but on a day that I already felt like shit, it was the last thing I wanted to do. My heart rate had risen a fair amount from passing my fellow classmates, and my throat was already irritated from breathing so hard.

The group ahead of me rounded a full lap and those who were on the sidelines cheered us on. A few students up at the front waved back, smiling and thanking them for their support. I vaguely knew them as popular kids in some of the sports the academy had. A good mark on something like this was obviously a goal of theirs.

Just as we passed our onlookers, an abrupt burst of stars surrounded the corners of my vision. Along with it, my head grew hazy. My breath hitched momentarily as I recalled the last time I'd experienced this. Preemptively I slowed down my pace. A few kids behind me passed in a whirlwind of thuds. I did my best to shake off the feeling. I probably overworked myself by starting off so strong. If I maintained my speed as it was now, I'd still pass with a decent score. It'd be on the lower end of average if I had to guess, but it was better than embarrassing myself on the track.

I but my lip and closed my eyes briefly. Get ahold of yourself, Okumura.

"Hey, watch it!"

I was thrust to the side as my shoulder was bumped into. My eyes flew open and I realized I'd veered slightly into another lane. My heart hammered in my chest, and I swear I could see my vision dancing with every beat. The person who ran into me continued forward without a second glance, cussing me out under his breath. I couldn't even answer him, my chest feeling so heavy it might collapse. Behind me, I heard someone call out and ask if I was alright. Again, I found myself mute as I stumbled forward. A hand fell on my shoulder and it was like bowling ball. My legs gave out and I fell forward onto my hands and knees, gasping and praying for my vision to return. Sweat clung to my skin, but not in the way that indicated a great workout. It was clammy and glued my clothes to my skin like paper mâché. My hand trembled as I attempted to pull the wet fabric away from my body to no avail. Frantic calls sounded around me just before I heard the teacher blow their whistle. But that was about all I could hear, the buzzing in my head growing exponentially with every second. I swore and tried to push myself back up, however, I was weighed down by someone else's grasp and the apparent lead that resided in my limbs.

They were asking me questions, but I couldn't process their words. I struggled to form my own, but I only managed a few groans before leaning forward against the track. It felt like I was chasing after each breath, the air around me lacking oxygen.

I was rolled over onto my side, and my blurred vision barely caught sight of the teacher's track suit before I succumbed to the blackness that framed him.