Ever since his fifth year, Ernie had been slightly obsessed with staying in shape. He’d been a pudgy child his whole life but the teasing wasn’t what made him yearn to get healthy, it was the war. He’d been afraid that if he were too slow, if he couldn’t run away or fight back or carry someone else that someone--even himself-- would die and he’d be unable to do anything. It was a fear that had lessened some, but still and itch somewhere in the back of his mind, even now as he went on his daily run through the campus of the school.
He’d been singing to himself, now that he could see no other students around. Singing while running helped regulate the breaths you took while moving, and to be honest, Ernie didn’t have a bad voice (though it certainly wasn’t at its best right now). He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and peeled his shirt off as he came to a tree, resting for a second and taking in the shade that it provided. It took him a second to realize there was another person there, and blushed slightly.