Chapter Text
Oguri turns to face Sodashi, an ever so slightly frazzled or stunned look to her expression.
Sodashi clears her throat, “Sorry, Hi, Sodashi, um…” she hesitates for a moment, then holds her hand out for Oguri to shake it. The other umamusume doesn’t take it, she just looks at it and then quirks the tiniest of smiles.
“Do you fancy heading for a meal?”
A laugh escapes Sodashi. A meal. That doesn’t seem too bad, “sure.”
“I’m going to take you to a noodle place I like, not anywhere on campus.”
Sodashi nods in reply. She’s still not sure why Rudolf has buddied her up with Oguri, but the company, and food, is a well needed distraction.
She watches as the other girl heads towards the door, and there’s a sting of pain in her ankle yet again. Her face scrunches up into a grimace, her gaze drifts towards the floor. It feels like being a shell of what she once was. Her own body has it out for her. Hands clench into tight fists.
Oguri stills, her ear twitches. She observes, but is careful to avoid making Sodashi feel gawked at.
Sodashi takes a deep few breaths, then looks back up at Oguri. Heat rises into her cheeks, and then she mumbles a quick, “sorry, let’s go.”
The grey haired girl nods, and trails as Sodashi leaves the room.
The walk off the Tracen Academy campus and into town is a quiet one. Every now and again they stop, and wait in silence as Sodashi gets another flare of pain.
And here they are again. It’s humiliating. Hot tears trickle down her cheeks.
As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, it hurts more than she can handle. It’s suffocating. She stares at the concrete beneath her feet, then her shoes, the brown patent leather and the little cleat shaped golden buckle on the side of each of them. Then her eyes drift to Oguri’s pair. They’re scuffed and well worn, in need of replacement.
Honestly, they look on the brink of falling apart. Through her quiet sobs, she can’t help but let out a little laugh. An umamusume as influential as Oguri isn’t unable of replacing a pair of shoes. But how she just doesn’t care is so funny to Sodashi. She wipes her eyes, then looks back up at Oguri.
Oguri cocks her head curiously.
“Your shoes,” Sodashi begins with a soft smile, “they’re old. Really tattered.”
In turn, Oguri looks down at her shoes, scuffing her foot around for a moment. Then she shrugs, “they still work, it’s okay.”
It’s not the philosophy that Sodashi had been raised with. Back at home, perfect appearances were important. She had a family image to uphold. But she supposes it’s one she could learn a bit from. If she’s not racing anymore, what does it matter? To care so much about any of that.
“Of course.”
They continue their walk to the restaurant, and it feels a little less awful now. When they arrive, Oguri finds them a table that’s out of the way. A nice quiet corner. It seems be somewhere Oguri frequents, the staff seem familiar with her.
Briefly, Sodashi hesitates, then asks, “what to you recommend?”
Oguri perks up at such a question, a brief grin flashes across her face before settling into a small smile, “It’ll be a surprise then.”
She rises from her seat and goes to order, while Sodashi is left to watch. She thinks back to her meeting with Rudolf, being told she’ll probably never race again, that they’ll terminate her URA registration. It’s not even public information yet. She wanted to get to win just one more race before this happened.
The line of thought is interrupted by Oguri’s return, there’s an excited wag to her tail, a glint in her eyes. She takes her seat opposite the other girl. There is a silence that hangs between the two. But it’s not uncomfortable.
For a moment, they just get to exist in one another’s presence. That moment stretches into nearly 10 minutes, before it is interrupted by a waiter carefully placing their bowls on the table.
Oguri’s bowl of ramen is notably larger than Sodashi’s. Comically so. A giggle escapes the white-haired umamusume.
“Very hungry?”
“I have a big appetite.”
Sodashi giggles again, and picks up her chopsticks and begins to eat her food. It’s good. Oguri has good taste.
“I don’t go out for meals with people very often,” Sodashi states.
Oguri has a pensive expression on her face for a moment, then replies, “we can change that.”
It makes her cheeks warm a little. It’s a sweet sentiment. Yet Sodashi hardly knows her, past all the achievements and love from fans, the induction into the URA hall of fame. She’s only doing this because Rudolf requested it.
She looks down at her food, poking it mindlessly. She’s eaten some, but her appetite is gone now. Sodashi takes a deep breath, her vision goes slightly fuzzy. Her eyes briefly dart back up to Oguri, who looks slightly concerned. She thinks that might’ve just made her feel worse.
“I— Goodness— I can’t do this,” Sodashi puts her chopsticks down, pushes her bowl away from herself, and goes to run her hands through her hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Oguri presses.
Sodashi hesitates, her fingers still self soothingly carding through her hair. She sighs, then shrugs, “wasting food? Souring the meal? I don’t know. I just… I just feel so stumped and so lost and so tired.”
“I can eat the rest of your meal for you if you don’t want it to go to waste…”
Sodashi looks up, once again stunned by the girl opposite her, and unable to stop the way the corner of her lip once again quirks up. She rubs her eyes, Oguri’s own bowl of food is already empty, “yeah, sure.”
Carefully, she reaches out and pushes the bowl towards her, watching intently as Oguri begins to tuck in.
“When I was little my legs weren’t quite right,” Oguri begins between bites, “they were deformed, and I couldn’t stand up. But my mum massaged them every day to help me be able to run.”
Sodashi’s ears perk up, and she mumbles a quiet, “oh. I didn’t know that.”
Oguri nods, but for now she doesn’t elaborate any further. She seems quite intent on focusing on her meal.