Of course she'd stick with me. The devil always tortures his favorite victims personally.
For the next thirty minutes, Misato ran me through every circle of hell she could design on a field. Burpees until my arms stopped cooperating. Sprints that made my lungs feel like they were trying to quit their jobs. Squat jumps while she circled me like a very aggressive, lime-green-haired shark, watching for any excuse to add reps.
Every time I genuinely thought my body was about to stage a full revolt, she'd plant herself directly in front of me, close enough that I could see the complete lack of sympathy in those bright green eyes.
"That it? You're already done?" Her voice carried the kind of casual contempt that made it worse than yelling. "Gates don't care that your legs hurt. Monsters don't check in to see if you need a water break."
She stepped aside just long enough for me to attempt another rep, then was back in my space before I'd finished it.
