At the 15‑kilometer mark, the course turned toward the historic Osaka Castle. The ancient stone walls loomed ahead, and a gentle wind began to carry the faint scent of pine. Chiharu’s legs began to protest; the relentless incline of the castle hill was notorious, even in good weather. She glanced at the runner ahead—Mr. Fujita—who was walking slowly, his breathing steady.
2021 editions?