"Adding laps," I called back. "Very on brand. Have you considered a personality outside of cardio-based threats?"
"Have you considered running eight instead of four?"
"That's the same threat with bigger numbers."
She didn't dignify that. Just walked ahead of me up the path with her ponytail fixed and her tablet out and her spine locked into the posture that said the last five minutes had been a temporary firmware glitch and normal service was now resuming. I fell in behind her because falling in behind Misato was safer than walking beside her when she was pretending nothing had happened, and because the view was, objectively, part of the reward package.
The field came back into view. My squad of misfits and heiresses and one girl pretending to be a boy sat scattered across the turf in various stages of collapse.
