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           JustbecauseIhadallthetimeintheworlddidn’tmeanIhadtimetowaste.EveryhourlostmeantIwasanhourweaker,anditwouldcatchupwithmeonthebattlefield.

           "Yourunnin’,chickenshit?"Hisvoicerangthroughthecafeteria.

           Ritaturnedandglaredatme.Itwasobviousshehadjustrealizedthattherecruitwho’dbeenstaringatherduringPTwaseatinginthesamecafeteria.SomethingtoldmethatifIreturnedhergaze,she’dhelpmethewayshe’dhelpedduringPT-thewayshe’dhelpedinmyfirstbattle.Ritawasn’tthetypewhocouldturnherbackonsomeoneintrouble.Herhumanitywasstartingtoshowthrough.Iwonderedwhatherplaywouldbe.Maybeshe’dstarttalkingaboutgreenteatocoolthisguyoff.Ilaughedundermybreathatthethought.

           "What’ssofunny?"

           Oops."Nothingtodowithyou."

           MyeyesleftRita.TheKeijiKiriyastandinginthecafeteriathatdaywasnogreenrecruit.Myoutwardappearancemayhavebeenthesame,butinsideIwasahardenedveteranofseventy-ninebattles.Icoulddealwithmyownproblems.I’dimposedonRitaonceduringPTandoncemore,indirectly,bysmooth-talkingmywayintooneofhersparebattleaxes.Ididn’tneedtoinvolveherathirdtimejusttomakeitthroughlunch.

           "Youfuckin’withme?"Hewasn’tgoingtoletthisgo.

           "I’msorry,butIreallydon’thavetimetowastescrewingaround."

           "Whaddayouhavehangin’betweenyourlegs?Apairofpingpongballs?"

           "Ineveropenedmysacktolook.