1-03 Release

	Gym class is a very strange affair here, and why wouldn't it be? The towel pinned gently under my chin while I glance around the changing rooms, every person has a different rulebook in front of them; a different list of limitations that they'll have to carry through their lives, obeying to the letter. Miki catches my eye snapping an unsuspecting student's bra and laughing boisterously. It reminds me that in some instances, students who have an easier time here on the track may have their work cut out for them trying to do up their shirt buttons. I, of course, am no exception, and have a rulebook of my own. One that's a little thicker than most, even.

	Laying out my neatly folded new gym uniform, it's hard to forget the nurse's face when I asked him for a note to begin participating. A mixture of shock, curiousity and worry. A face that I've seen before on the faces of friends and strangers, but I never thought it would appear on the nurse. Still, he wrote it out only asking me a single question.

	"Do you know what you're doing?"

	A question I'll admit I hesitated with, but not one I hadn't considered before. I told him I did, but I'm still not certain. I'd been made exempt from participating in gym when I arrived, and I didn't complain. In fact, it never really crossed my mind until yesterday, but everything changed, yesterday.

	'You gotta' love the smell of a fresh uniform, don't you?' Emi beams up at me, already dressed and ready to go. When I arrived in the change room, I found out Emi was the condition of me participating I hadn't been informed of. Not that she said as much herself, but her reputation does proceed her, and she's not terribly subtle with spying on me either.

	'I prefer it to the smell of a used one, certainly.' I respond, pulling the shirt over my head and untucking my braid from underneath. She giggles and stretches her arms above her head.

	'You'll get used to it. Wanna' warm up with me?'

	I raise an eyebrow and ask, 'Warm up?' I know what it is in theory, but I've never put any thought into the act itself.

	'Stretches, jogging, getting the air flowing and the blood pumping!' Emi cries, bouncing up and down. Well, I stretch when I wake up in the morning, this can't be terribly different.

	My uniform on, socks pulled high and shoes tied tightly, I follow Emi out into the grass of the track. After raining yesterday, the grass is particularly lush this morning, and the warm Spring sun has dried up any dew. I can feel the heat dance across my skin, and the warm breeze gently sway my hair. I feel good about my decision to join gym today, I don't normally get to enjoy weather like this.

	'It's a good day to run, don't you think?' Emi asks, standing hands on hips beside me, overlooking the track and the few students peppering the yard in the distance.

	'Couldn't think of a better day to start.' I reply, stretching my arms out, trying to mimic what Emi was doing earlier.

	'Let's get started then!' Emi announces, jogging a few feet ahead and spinning to face me, 'First, we stretch. Can you touch your toes? Keep your legs straight!' I have no idea how I'm supposed to reach them doing that, but I give it my best anyway, and get about half-way down my shins before I feel tendons in my legs threatening to catch fire. Looking up to Emi for mercy, she just tells me to hold to position for ten seconds. By ten, the pressure in my legs has convinced me I'm simply going to snap in half before I ever get to the track, but Emi calls for me to relax.

	Standing back up, I let out a long groan of pain. 'At least that's... over with. Shall... we hit the track?' I gasp out to her through ragged breaths. In response, she simply laughs.

	'Don't be silly, we've just started!' She replies, far too happily for my liking.

	After ten more minutes of agony, Emi finally hops up and points to the track, calling out, 'Let's get started!'

	'We haven't even started?' I cry back out to her as she jogs off to the field. Every muscles and joint is crying out in protest, but I manage to stagger forward and break into a jog to follow her.

	We start with what I assume is called a brisk jog. By now, the other students who either skipped warming up or just weren't as thorough about the affair are already running, with a few doing hurdles on the outside lanes and others trying out the long jump in the middle of the oval. We're running on the inside lane, with Emi just ahead of me. She seems to have slowed down her usual pace to stay close to me, but it's hard to tell as I pump my legs to keep up. Cheering erupts from the centre field as I look over to see Miki roll to her feet in the sand and throw her hands up in the air as everyone applauds. I pretend they're cheering for me instead, and it gives me a new burst of energy to power ahead. I catch up to Emi, huffing and puffing, jogging alongside her. She turns her head to me, looking proud.

	'Oh-ho, got your breath back from the stretches, did you? Well, time to really get going!' Emi's strides grow longer and she starts to pull ahead, and I try to match pace. I'm a good head taller than her, so in theory my legs should be having an easier time. Theory is theory, however, and in practice I can only watch helplessly as Emi thunders ahead around the bend in the track. I'm not willing to be beaten so easily. Wiping off the sweat from my forehead with a swipe of my hand, I take a deep breath and run. The wind rushes through my hair and I can hear it whipping past my ears as I pick up the pace, overtaking a few students running on the lanes beside me. Taking each one as a victory, I try and pump my feet faster, pushing myself to where I never have before. All of a sudden, Emi's beside me again, but when she looks over, I don't see a smile.

	'Rika, maybe we should slow down a bit, you don't look so good.' Emi advises, frowning at me. I feel good, though. I feel like I'm in control.

	'I'll be fine! Let's see if we can get ahead of those two up there!' I proclaim, racing ahead again. There's a voice in the back of my head telling me to stop, telling me to take Emi's advice, telling me that she knows what she's talking about. But I know what I'm doing, I can prove to myself that I'm not the person I think I am. The two students ahead of us in question are a pink haired girl and a boy with a bandage over his ear. Waving to them, I continue to push ahead. There's more cheering from the middle of the oval, but this time I don't look, I just close my eyes and listen. The world becomes a haze of cheering, of wind, of sweat, of... of another sound.

	It's faint at first, but I hear it more and more as I keep going. A pounding, like an ominous drum, getting faster and faster. At first, I think it's the beat of my shoes thumping against the track, but it's not in rhythm. Feeling the sweat on my head, I realize it's gone ice cold. I try to open my eyes, but the world's gone blurry. A stark and cold realization creeps into my head, but too late as I cry out a scream and the ground comes to meet me.

	Lying there, on the field, I notice faintly that I've stumbled onto the grass when I fell. The soft green feels comfortable as I hear the cries and footsteps of students around me. I manage to force my eyes open long enough to see Emi standing over me, crying out for the nurse, and a haze of other concerned face looking down at me. I can't hear the cheers anymore, just the mumbling of the crowd and the frantic beating of my heart.

	"Do you know what you're doing?"