The chime had barely finished echoing when Tachyon burst out of the lab. Almost immediately, however, she skidded to a halt, realizing she hadn't actually given her Trainer a time. Usually, she dictated the schedule to suit her own whims, but she had been so buoyed by the success of today's objective that the details had slipped her mind. It was a bother, but missing each other due to a simple misunderstanding was even more of a headache. Before heading off to change, Tachyon decided to swing by the Trainer's office.
When she pushed the door open, she found Tanami staring vacantly at the ceiling, idly swaying his chair from side to side.
"Trainer-kun, it's time. Let's go," Tachyon called out.
Tanami blinked, looking as though he'd just been jolted awake from a dream. "Ah... Tachyon." He shook his head slightly. "I was just sitting here wondering what to do. You didn't mention a time."
"My apologies, it slipped my mind entirely. I'm going to change now. Meet me at the track."
With that, she closed the door and vanished. Tanami sighed and began pulling on his tracksuit. Since it was the dead of winter, the chill bit deep into his thighs—an almost unbearable sensation. Some might wonder why he didn't just come to work in his tracksuit to begin with, but for Tanami, the morning suit was a mental switch. If he showed up in casual wear, he felt he'd lose his professional edge and lapse into laziness. It was a sentiment shared by many trainers at Tracen Academy; though the school didn't strictly enforce a dress code, most opted for sharp, formal attire. Of course, the irony was that as soon as training began, they all collectively changed into identical tracksuits. Sometimes, Tanami wondered if the school was suffering from some kind of strange, contagious obsession with formality.
He finished changing quickly and headed for the field. It felt like an eternity since they had last trained. In reality, it had only been a few days—Tanami had been down with a cold yesterday, and Tachyon had been bedridden the day before that. And before that, she had simply skipped. Apparently, she'd had questions for Manhattan Cafe after her Arima Kinen victory. Since that disappearance had been entirely unannounced, Tanami had been left shivering in the winter air for nothing. Today, however, would be different. Tachyon was already waiting.
As he walked, a small, quiet spark of joy flickered in his chest, making his footsteps feel just a little lighter.
By the time Tanami reached the track—having spent the walk lost in a winter reverie, watching the withered grass and skeletal trees—Tachyon was already there.
"You're late, my friend!" she chided, a hint of genuine irritation in her voice.
"Sorry," he offered a brief, soft apology. "Shall we get to work, then?"
Whenever Tanami led a session, he made a point of outlining the entire plan before they took a single step. He held up his clipboard, showing her the sheet of paper clipped to it.
"We haven't trained in a while, so your body is likely stiff. We're going to take a long warm-up. After that, we'll do a few light drills—just what's on this page. No overexerting yourself today. Understood?"
Tachyon took the clipboard, scanning the notes with a series of thoughtful "humms." She nodded. "Understood." Normally, if she had a grievance, she voiced it immediately. Today, she seemed content.
As she began to run, Tanami's eyes never left her back. There were crowds of people nearby, but he stood apart, focusing only on her. Occasionally he'd spot a fellow trainer he knew, but they didn't seem to notice him. Every so often, his eyes would meet Tachyon's as she circled around. Each time, his heart would flutter with a sharp, painful sort of joy. But Tachyon didn't wave. She didn't smile. She simply ran with a fierce, quiet intensity.
Eventually, the sun began to dip below the horizon. In its final, stubborn gasp of light, the sunset bathed Tachyon's silhouette. The air was filled with the distant murmur of voices. Tanami watched her back, now draped in shadow. Her own shadow stretched out from her feet, eventually bleeding into the darkness of the crowd until it vanished.
Tanami let out a long, heavy breath. Where is all of this going? he wondered.
Once the sun had fully set and most of the girls and trainers had headed for the dorms, Tachyon and Tanami stood huddled together, whispering. At the very last second, Tanami had hesitated to call his father.
"Maybe... maybe you shouldn't come to my place after all?" he stammered. "I'll stay here instead. I can help you with your research over the break..."
"What? You can't be serious!" Tachyon snapped, her temper flaring instantly. "The ideas haven't even coalesced yet. I was planning on sorting through them in the peace and quiet of your home!"
She looked at him with genuine indignation. "My friend, to go back on your word like this... it is unbecoming of a Japanese gentleman."