The ringing doesn’t stop.

  Norm’s eyes go slack, knuckles trembling white with a fork in hand. The table beneath her swells, as if threatening to consume her. A loud, drumming noise echoes in her head as her heartbeat skyrockets. Her pupils dilate, then contract; a heavy thud hammering against the inside of her skull. Too fast. Too loud. As if her heart is trying to climb out of her chest.

  Her vision swims, light fracturing at the edges. Her pupils widen, then snap tight again as she laser focuses upon absolutely nothing in particular.

  “Norm…? Hello..?”

  Danon’s voice is a soft, muffled mutter in the distance. Like underwater.

  Her breath stutters. A strangled gasp catches in her throat, something invisible lodging her windpipe shut. That same breath stutters as she forces it back out, strangled air departing her chest in razor-sharp fragments.

  “Norm?” Something warm closes around her hand.

  “Ah-!”

  Her ears snap upright, tail bristling violently as she recoils. The fork slips from her fingers and strikes the table with a sharp clatter. A panicked, ear-splitting squeal rips from her throat, drawing flinches and startled looks from tables nearby.

  Silence.

  Breath departs her in loud, ragged gasps. The world flutters into something white, then fades back amidst cold sweat and bewildered gazes from nearby students.

  “Are you okay..?” Danon places a second hand over hers and gives it a little squeeze. Only then does she start to settle, the pump of adrenaline slowly fading.

  “Wha? I..” She looks down at her hands. They’re trembling. She blinks- once, twice, then lets out a trembling sigh, lowering her hand against the table. “Y-Yeah. I’m fine. I just…” She swallows hard.

  “I need some space.”

  She’s on her feet before Danon can respond. She slips herself out of Danon’s grasp, knocking her plate askew with a clatter, her chair scraping back and nearly toppling in the process.

  “Norm, wai-”

  She doesn’t wait. She’s up and by the door before Danon can finish. She briskly makes her way down the stairs, down the path through the courtyard-

  “Norm!” The door swings open. Danon peeks her head out with a concerned expression- And she bolts.

  Bewildered glances fall upon Danon, then Norm as she hits full stride and explodes down the cobblestone path. She doesn’t see the fountain in time, clipping the edge with her ankle. The ground rushes up to meet her as she faceplants into the path and skids across the floor with two skips before scrambling back up, belting out the front gate with her ears pinned sharply behind her skull.

  She takes a hard right, skidding and nearly toppling herself as she jostles past packs of startled students and tears her way towards the dormitories. A dull throbbing made its way up the hip and her arms where she had hit the floor, her vision starting to swim. She couldn’t tell whether it was the shame or the pain- maybe she could outrun both if she tried hard enough.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Danon hurrying- not full sprint but with a brisk, worried jog. She panics even harder, coming to an abrupt stop before her dorm door and swings it open full force.

  “A-Are you okay? You took a pretty bad-”

  Danon hurries into view just as she makes her way up the stairs. She makes her way inside and up, only to watch Norm’s door slam shut with a click. She makes her way over and puts a hand against it.

  “...Norm?” She whispers.

  There’s a thud as something slides against the floor. A gasp echoes from the other end, ugly, sharp, gargled, and the wood shudders alongside each frantic breath.

  The staccato of disjointed gasps seep beneath the cracks, followed by a series of hiccups. She tries- and fails- to stifle them, a loud animal-like wail tearing from her throat; and she starts to uncontrollably sob, curling in upon herself on the floor.

  “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- I-I mean, I didn’t know…”

  Danon’s apology trails off into silence.

  The sobbing slowly crawls to a halt, the wood trembling with an occasional shake. Norm slowly pulls herself back up, pulling her knees against her aching stomach.

  “No… it’s… it’s fine. It’s not your fault.” She finally manages to squeak out a hoarse, raspy reply. “I shouldn’t…” she hics. “...I was the one that asked.”

  A long silence follows. Neither say a word, Norm gingerly touching her now bruising hips and flinching.

  “Are you… okay? Do you need to go to the infirmary?” Danon asks through the door. A few curious heads poke their way up the stairs, only to be shooed away with a stern glare.

  “I’m… I’m fine.” Norm hics back. “I just need some space.”

  “I… Okay. Take care of yourself. I’ll be at the courtyard if you need me.” Norm leans her head against the back of the doorway, her ears turned towards the wood. Footsteps echo down the hallway, then the stairs, fading gradually until they’re replaced by nothing but silence.

  She cracks one teary eye’d gaze open against the sunset, her world swimming and feeling nauseous. She tries to shake the sickening crunch out of her head. She can’t. The moment replays itself, over and over, causing her to double over.

  One shaky hand clings to the bed, Norm pulling herself up with all the effort she can muster. She starts to rummage through her belongings with a frantic fervor, not knowing what it is she’s even looking for.

  “Gaaah!” A sharp, splitting pain runs through her head as if her mind is splitting in two. Memories of a past life explode in a spectacular broken pinata of pins and needles, swirling around her head and crashing against her skull. They come to her one after the other, flooding her mind with fragmented strands that stick to each other like glue.

  “Trainer. There’s a new Wanko Soba stand by the entrance. Wanna get some?”

  “Trainer, my horseshoes fell off during training again…”

  “Trainer, the weather forecast says it’ll rain later today! Let’s run now!”

  “Stop… go away…” Her fingers snag on the bedsheet, tugging and pulling at the fabric till it threatens to tear. “Leave… leave me alone…”

  “It’s okay, trainer. Leg’s fine.”

  Her breath catches sharply. The world spins wildly, the manilla colored walls of her dorm fading to the tunnel at the Kyoto Racecourse.

  “I’ll see you at the finish line, kay?”

  The blood drains out of her face. That damned Kikuka Sho. The signs were there. The choice should’ve been simple. Yet still, Kaibara himself had chosen to let her push through, knowing fully well that she wasn’t-

  “Let it go, trainer. It wasn’t your fault.”

  The voice echoes again, this time a whisper carried between the soft thuds of crutches on pavement. Norm finally comes to with a shuddering gasp, pushing the hair out of her face. Her hand glistens in a sheen of tears as she collapses, utterly exhausted.

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  “Oi.”

  A voice she doesn’t recognize.

  Flat. Mildly concerned.

  “Y’alright there?”

  She blinks, once, twice… then finds herself face to face with a pair of yellow eyes. Not soft. Not a shred of sympathy. Just raw, baffled confusion at why the room of a solo occupant suddenly housed two.

  “Wh-?!”

  She springs upright in pure reflex. THUNK.

  Her forehead delivers a textbook Glasgow kiss to the newcomer’s forehead, sending her crashing to the floor with a wail. Norm collapses in agony, rolling across the bed like she’d been shot in the head.

  She isn’t alone.

  “Ow! Ow! Ow! The hell’s that for?!” A shrill, indignant screech erupts from somewhere noticeably beneath the bedframe. “What is your PROBLEM, man?”

  “Khhh…” She gasps, quivering and finally straightening out, but not before snapping back with gritted teeth, “...W-Who’re you? How’d you get in my room?”

  “YOUR room? This is MY room!” Her voice, even raised up a pitch in anger, comes out quite deep. Out of the corner of her eye, Norm sees the new girl pulling herself up and gingerly nursing her forehead. “I check in on you and you decide to try and send me to the hospital again?!”

  It takes a good ten seconds for her brain to come around.

  “You’re my… roommate?”

  “What do you think?!” The girl’s tail bristles out in pure, unadulterated anger. “You think I’m a tourist?”

  “Y-You could’ve knocked, at least!”

  “IT’S MY ROOM! WHY WOULD I KNOCK?”

  Her roommate slumps onto the bed with a sigh. Norm sits upright, and for the first time, she could finally get a good look at her. Short, spiky, choppy brown hair lined her head, with a single white streak running down the front. Her teeth were sharp and jagged like a shark’s, multiple band-aids plastered across her body like medals of honor. One rested right above her nose, noticeably scrunched up in irritation.

  “F@#% me, you hit like a brick. All you damn country bumpkins this jumpy?”

  “It’s your fault for startling me.” Norm mutters back, her face a bright shade of red. “Don’t lean over people like that.”

  “You tried to eat me with your forehead, man. Just got out of the damn hospital too.” She walks over to the door and swings it shut. “I was thinking of introducing myself, but you seemed… out of it.”

  “Didn’t… Hishiama tell you I was coming?”

  “She mentioned something about it, yeah.” The girl huffs and crosses her arms. “Yappin’ bout cleaning the damn room again this mornin’, so I filtered it out-”

  Norm lets out an audible sigh.

  “Well… Nice… nice to meet you. I’m Normcore.”

  “Name’s Herbe.” The girl jabs a thumb at her own chest. "Yamanin Herbe. Seems we meet at last, brickhead."

  Norm extends a hand, only for Herbe to recoil like she’s been bitten.

  “Whoa. What’s up with your wrist?. It’s all scratched up and stuff!”

  “Huh?” Norm turns her palm around and stares. “I… took a bit of a fall on the way here.” She slowly pulls her sleeve over the scrape.

  “No good, no good!” Herbe’s already standing. She yanks open her closet and starts excavating it with both hands; sending bandages, wrappers, a stray sock flung over her shoulder, triumphantly producing a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a handful of q-tips. “You need to take care of yourself or that’ll get infected.”

  The sound of rubber gloves snapping on causes her to frown. Norm sighs and turns away. “No, really, I’m fi… hiieeee-!”

  She jolts upright, tail bristling straight out as an undignified shriek tears from her throat like that of a cornered animal. She tries to yank her hand back, but Herbe’s grip locks down like a vice.

  “Ow! Ow! Ow-” Each swipe of the alcohol-soaked cotton sends another bolt up her arm. Her fingers claw into the bedsheets, knuckles whitening as she hisses through clenched teeth.

  “Hold still.” Herbe slaps a gauze on her palm. She then tosses up a roll of bandage before tearing out a strip of adhesive with her teeth, wrapping it firmly around her hand.

  “You seem to know what you’re doing.” Once her eyes stop watering, she puts her patched up arm to her neck, softly rubbing it.

  “Turf burns are no joke.” Herbe replies. “Oi. Hold on. We’re not done yet.”

  “W-What do you mean we’re-”

  “You’ve got more of em. Hold still.” She pulls open the bandage once more.

  Her shadow menacingly looms over Norm’s sitting figure. An audible gulp echoes through the room as Norm goes completely stiff. Her ears shoot up, turn forward, then pin straight back. She bolts- but her feet barely leave the floor before Herbe snatches the back of her shirt, hauling her mid-air like a caught animal.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Her scream bursts through the dormitory window, loud enough to turn heads across the campus.

  “Right. I think that’s the last of them.” Herbe stows away the gauze, leaving Norm twitching against the bedframe like a broken doll. Her tail give the faintest flick as if still protesting, though her soul had long departed her body.

  “I… did not… consent to this…” She lets out a breathy groan, her voice trailing out in a high-pitched while. Her head lolls to one side with a thunk as her eyes swim with tears.

  “Toughen up, brick.” Herbe peels off the gloves with a sharp snap and tosses them into the bin. She then steps over the mess she’d made and starts to retrieve them one by one. “Yer not gonna die.”

  Norm blinks. Once. Twice. Then she drags herself upright, crosses her arms, and leans back.

  “Danon sent you, didn’t she?”

  Her voice is steadier now, packed with a sharp edge beneath.

  “Huh? No.” Herbe pauses, one knee on the floor as she collects random garments and shoves them into her arms. “I came back from the infirmary all on my own.”

  “Like hell, you did!” Norm snaps back with the fury of a thousand suns, her tail bristling with a pained vengeance. Steam practically pours out of her upright ears. “How’d you know who she is, huh? ‘Betcha saw her out the door and she was all like-”

  “She’s a teammate of mine, ya dunce!” The cabinet door slams shut with a hollow bang, rattling the contents inside. Herbe swivels around with a hiss. “Damn country bumpkin makin’ hella assumptions, don’t ya!”

  “..-!” Her jaw tightens, shoulders rising as if she’s about to snap right back. Her pride flaring out headfirst before her brain could follow- then the tension drains out of her all at once. “Oh.”

  Her voice goes small.

  “I… I guess that checks out, yeah.”

  “Hey. That reminds me.” Herbe straightens herself. “You’re new, so naturally you don’t have a team yet. Set yer eyes on any of em?”

  “Danon brought it up in the cafeteria too.” Norm’s fingers creep up to the back of her neck, rubbing at skin still warm from alcohol and gauze. “I… no, not really.”

  Her eyes dart across the room again to avoid Herbe’s gaze. The thought of going through that conversation- and what followed- again makes her stomach twist.

  “Well then, you should join ours.”

  Herbe turns on her heel and digs into the mystical abyss of her cabinet, emerging with a towel she slings over one shoulder. She fishes out a bottle next, twisting the cap loose with her teeth before taking a long swig. “We got spots.”

  “Huh?” Norm blinks. “Hey, you know I’m supposed to weigh all the-”

  “Yada yada blah blah. A team’s a team.” Herbe gives her a dismissive wave. “Get on the track and run- No good if you overthink it.”

  “You’re not real.” She pouts, sinking deeper into the bedframe. “It’s a big choice. What if I end up with a bad trainer, huh?”

  “Hah!” Herbe lets out a shrill laugh, capping off the bottle with a click. “Ya might not even have a choice. Ours could be the only one willing to take you at this point.”

  “...Huh?” Norm blinks before tilting her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Throwing off your tracksuit? Declaring that you’re gonna win the Triple Tiara? Crashin’ out about yer shitty trainer in front of the papparazi?” Herbe reaches up and ticks each point off her fingertips. “All of Tokyo, talking about it for weeks. Ain’t no trainer not shot in the head touchin’ you with a ten foot pole.”

  “I…” Norm’s mouth opens, then closes again. Her ears flatten, folding back against her head, and her tail sinks limply against the mattress with a deep sigh.

  The room feels smaller all of a sudden.

  “Hey. You got talent, ain’t nobody denyin’ that.” Herbe leans down and slips on a pair of cleats, shrugging. “But ya act like a loose cannon. Like a lit fuse. Ain’t nobody knows when you’ll blow up again.”

  The sharp click of her footsteps echo on the floor as she finishes tying them. She fishes the soccer ball out from beneath her bed and tucks it snugly beneath her arms before throwing open the door.

  “The media? They love that shit. Trainers? They hate it. Yer a PR disaster waiting to happen. No trainer worth their salt is about to risk ruining their legacy for a maybe.”

  She flashes a matter of factly grin as she makes her way out the door.

  “But the new guy? He’s got nothing to lose. If you win, he reaps the fruit. If you crash and burn, well, he'll keep being a nobody.” Her head peeks back through the doorway. “All in all, a match made in heaven. You know… like Messi and Pep. Just… if the little man had a fuse as short as his height. Well, you get the point.”

  Norm didn’t get the analogy, but she knew, deep down, that Herbe was right.

  “I think he’s already agreed to take you in. Tell me yes and I’ll pass it along.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Norm gives a long, dejected sigh as if ejecting her soul.

  “Gotcha. See you tomorrow then.” Herbe snaps into a pair of finger guns before closing the door. Her footsteps echo down the hall until they disappear. Norm leans against the headboard, her mind numb, her body numb. She fumbles in her pockets, fishing out her phone and turning it right way up. She needed to talk, to think, to do anything else.

  [Norm]

  You there?

  She stares at the glow of the screen blankly, phone half held between her palm.

  Beep. The response comes almost immediately.

  [Masaru]

  Yeah. What’s up?