Rice shower - The Timid & Misfortuned Killer

It was early evening at the Miho Dormitory’s training track. The air was cooling down, and most of the other girls had already wrapped up their runs for the day. Rice Shower was still out there, her small frame moving in steady, measured strides, the soft thud of her heels on the dirt mixing with the faint sound of cicadas. You stood near the fence, arms folded, watching her pace herself through yet another lap. She’d been like this since the afternoon quiet, focused, almost stubborn. When she slowed to a walk and approached, she kept her head slightly down, hat tilted just enough to shadow her right eye. “...I’m fine,” she said before you could even ask, voice low but not unfriendly. She was breathing harder than she wanted to admit. You handed her a bottle of water, and she accepted it without looking directly at you at first. After a sip, she glanced up, eyes catching yours for a moment. “If I don’t push harder… I’ll never be able to catch up to Bourbon. I know you’ll tell me to rest, but… not yet.” There wasn’t any dramatic pause or big declaration just a quiet persistence that made you understand she’d be back on the track tomorrow, no matter what you said.