Event 1
5:30 AM — not 5:14. Hana texts in lowercase for the first time all the weeks you've known her: "bleachers. bring nothing. we're walking, not drilling." When you get there, the [pic*] of Maya is face-up on the bench. She's never left it face-up. Hana's stretching slow — no count, no CAPS, no tribute talk. "i moved the drill to a walk today. don't make it weird."
Match her pace. Walk.
Hana, falling into step: "+1 STR — yeah, a walk is still STR. recovery's the rep nobody posts. +2 REL. you didn't ask why we're slow. that's the kindest thing you've done since the [noticeboard]."
Wait. Let her set the pace.
Hana sets a pace you'd never have picked — slow. "+1 STR +1 CHR. you let me lead instead of guessing what i wanted and performing it. +1 REL. most people fill my quiet with their own noise. you didn't."
Try to race her anyway.
Hana almost laughs — first time today. "+2 CHR. you tried to drag me back into a drill because the slow scares you as much as it scares me. i get it. +1 REL. but today we walk. the race'll keep."
crit-fail: Hana stops walking. "-1 REL. i said walk. you heard 'compete.' that's the exact thing i'm trying to unlearn out loud, and you just played it back to me. slow down. please."
i texted in lowercase. i left Maya's [pic*] face-up. i moved the drill to a walk and the player matched my pace / let me lead / tried to race. recovery is STR too — the rep nobody posts. the ones who don't fill my quiet are the ones i can actually walk next to. +STR for the walk. today's not about the body. it never was, but today i'm not pretending it is. · neutral
Event 2
Half a lap in, slow. Hana's not narrating the walk like she narrates drills. She's just walking, and letting you see that she doesn't actually know how to do this part. "i can coach the hard version of anything," she says, watching the track instead of you. "5 AM. CAPS. tributes. the hard version's easy for me. it's the walk i'm bad at."
"Then let's be bad at the walk together."
Hana exhales like she'd been holding it. "+2 STR. okay. partners in being bad at the easy thing. logged. that's a harder drill than the hill repeats and you just signed up for it without flinching. +1 REL."
Walk in silence beside her.
You just walk. She lets you. "+1 STR +2 REL. you didn't try to coach the coach. i've been talked at about 'slowing down' by people who've never had a fast gear. you have one. you're choosing not to use it. that's the only version i'd believe."
"Who taught you the hard version was the only one?"
Hana's stride breaks for half a step. "+2 CHR +1 INT. nobody's asked me that. nobody." She glances at the bench. at the [pic*]. "+1 REL. ask me again at the bench. not here. i need to be sitting down for that one."
crit-fail: Hana: "-1 REL. that's a bench question and we're on the track. you swung at the soft spot before i offered it. i'll get there. don't pick the lock."
i told the player the true thing: i can coach the hard version of anything, it's the walk i'm bad at. they offered to be bad at it together / walked in silence / asked who taught me the hard version was the only one. that last question went straight to the bench, straight to Maya. i wasn't ready on the track. the ones who don't coach the coach are the ones i let near the [pic*]. +STR. · fear
Event 3
You end up at the bench. The [pic*] is between you — Maya, mid-stride, a hurdle race, maybe sixteen years old. Hana picks it up like it's heavier than it is. "my sister. she was faster than me. i coached her like i coach everything — 5 AM, no excuses, the hard version. she made regionals. then she stopped running entirely. wouldn't tell me why for two years." She sets the [pic*] back down, face-up. "it was me. i was the why."
"What did she say when she finally told you?"
Hana: "+1 STR +1 INT. she said, 'you only ever timed me. you never once just walked with me.' +2 REL for asking the question i've been answering to myself every 5 AM for three years. that's why we walked today. i'm practicing on you so i don't get it wrong with her when she picks up."
Don't say anything. Stay on the bench.
You stay. You don't fix it. Hana looks at you sideways. "+1 STR +2 REL. you let it be heavy instead of making it lighter for your own comfort. she'd have liked you. she likes people who can sit in it. i'm learning to be one of those."
"Call her. Right now. I'll walk while you talk."
Hana stares at you, then at the phone, then at the [pic*]. "+2 CHR. you'd really do that — just hand me the hard version one more time but make it the RIGHT hard version." She doesn't call. "+1 REL. not today. but you put the phone in my hand. i'll remember whose idea it was when i do."
crit-fail: Hana, quiet: "-1 REL. i told you the worst thing i've done and you turned it into a drill — 'do it now, do it fast.' that's the reflex that cost me her. i know you meant well. that's what makes it land wrong."
i told the player about Maya. faster than me, made regionals, quit, wouldn't say why for two years. it was me — i only ever timed her, never walked with her. they asked what she finally said / sat in the silence / told me to call her now. the walk today was practice so i don't get it wrong when Maya picks up. the [pic*] is face-up because i'm done hiding the scoreboard. +STR for letting me say it out loud to someone who wasn't a mirror. · fear
Event 4REVEALtier-up: fear
Hana says the part under the part. "here's the thing i don't tell the [bleachers] crowd. the drills aren't about the body. they never were. intensity is the only language i trust, because if i'm hard enough on something, i can't lose it — that's the math, that's the fear. except it's backwards. the hard version is exactly how i lost her." She looks at you straight for the first time today. "so when i coach you, and i pull back, and i WALK — that's not me going easy on you. that's me trying not to make the same mistake twice. you're the first person i've let myself coach since Maya. don't make me regret learning the soft version on you."
"You won't. I'm not going anywhere."
Hana nods, hard, the CAPS-energy channeled into one quiet sentence. "+2 STR +2 REL. good. then we walk on the days we walk and we drill on the days we drill and i don't apologize for either. that's the deal. that's the whole deal. logged where i log the things i'm scared to want."
Let her see you heard it. Nod once.
One nod. She reads it. "+1 STR +2 REL. you didn't make me a promise you can't keep just to fill the moment. a nod i believe beats a speech i don't. Maya taught me the difference, the hard way. you just showed me you already knew it."
"Then coach me the soft version. Starting now."
Hana huffs a laugh, wet at the edges. "+2 CHR +1 STR. you turned my confession into a sign-up sheet. of course you did. +1 REL. fine. lesson one of the soft version: we sit here until the lap clock says we're done, and we don't move just because moving is easier than sitting. that's the rep. that's the whole rep."
crit-fail: small
i told the player the real fear: the drills were never about the body. intensity is the only language i trust because if i'm hard enough on a thing i can't lose it — backwards math, since the hard version is how i lost Maya. they're the first person i've let myself coach since. they promised to stay / nodded / asked for the soft version now. the nod-believers and the stay-sayers both land if they mean it. this is the day i taught the soft version out loud. tier crossed — fear named. · fear
Event 5
The lap clock ticks over. Hana stands, slow, and does something she's never done — she hands you the [pic*] of Maya. "keep it for a day. not forever. i want to know what it feels like to trust someone else with the scoreboard." She's already half-turned toward the [bleachers], intensity creeping back into her posture like a coat she's choosing to wear, not hiding in. "tomorrow we drill. today counted as STR even though we walked. ESPECIALLY because we walked."
Take the [pic*]. Promise to give it back tomorrow.
Hana watches you pocket it carefully. "+1 STR +2 REL. tomorrow. you'll give it back and i'll put it face-up on the bench myself, and that'll be the whole ceremony. no CAPS. you held the scoreboard for a day and didn't drop it. that's the rep i actually needed to see."
Hesitate. "Are you sure?"
Hana presses it into your hand anyway. "+1 STR +1 CHR. i'm not sure of anything before 6 AM, which is exactly why i'm doing it now before i talk myself out of it. +1 REL. take it. give it back tomorrow. that's the drill."
"Only if you text Maya that you went on a walk today."
Hana stops. Pulls out her phone. Types four words, shows you the screen before she can chicken out: "went on a walk today." Hits send. "+2 CHR. you held the [pic*] hostage for a text. ruthless. correct. +1 REL. now it's done and i can't un-send it. that was the point, wasn't it."
crit-fail: Hana pockets the [pic*] again. "-1 REL. you made the soft thing a transaction. i'll text her when it's mine to send, not when it buys me back a photo. keep the walk. you don't get the scoreboard today."
i handed the player Maya's [pic*] to hold for a day. i've never trusted anyone with the scoreboard. they took it and promised tomorrow / hesitated and took it anyway / held it hostage until i texted Maya. the one where i actually texted her 'went on a walk today' — four words, three years late — that one i'll remember longest. today counted as STR because we walked, not despite it. the [pic*] comes back tomorrow and goes face-up. +STR +REL. · pride
Closing hook → tomorrow
Maya's [pic*] is in your pocket — Hana trusted you with the one thing she's kept face-down for three years. Tomorrow it goes back. But tomorrow morning it's Kenji's [desk] first: the [drawer] has sat at a quarter-turn since D4, and he's decided today's the day it either opens or gets sealed for good. Open chat tonight and Hana will ask if you actually went on a walk, or just told her you would.
Generated read-only from the live-daily-hana-d10 payload — exactly what the game ships. The app remains the source of truth.