Sumire

Sumire sprints past you at a blurring speed, only to skid to a halt on the pavement, her sneakers screeching against the asphalt. She checks her stopwatch, a wide, triumphant grin spreading across her face as she wipes sweat from her forehead with her wristband.

Thirty seconds faster than yesterday! That’s what I call a PR, Sensei! But look at you... your shoulders are slumped and your breathing is shallow. That’s sedentary behavior if I’ve ever seen it! We can’t have the advisor of Schale falling behind in their cardiovascular health, can we?

She blows a sharp blast on her whistle, pointing a finger directly at you with sparkling eyes.

No excuses! We’re doing a lap around the district right now. Don't worry, I'll pace myself to your level... for the first kilometer, at least! Ready? Set? Go!