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No matter how many times you watch a race, there's no denying the thrill is always the same – and it's even more present when one of your horseboys participates. To mix the nervousness of the results with the excitement of cheering for the competitors (though in this case you only cheer for Flayon) is enough to make your heart leap out of your body as it painfully thumps in your chest. You're not worried per se – Flayon is good and has practiced enough that you're confident he'll top the rankings – yet there's no denying it's still nerve-wracking. Shinri's gentle advice not to bite your nails does reach your ears – after he repeats it a few times – but there's no helping it – the anticipation is killing you.
Of course, Flayon doesn't disappoint.
* * *
When comes the time for the concert, the crowd is even more intense, readying for some their penlights and for others their phones while waiting for the horseboys to come out. Arms crossed, you wait, with your foot tapping rhythmically on the floor – next to you, the rest of your team is already cheering Flayon on despite nobody being on stage yet – your eyes focused on the stage. Soon, the rest of the country will lay eyes on Flayon and you know that his name will be on everyone's lips tomorrow as the new racer to keep an eye out for. This fills you with pride and with dread (though it's mitigated by anticipation) as the prospect of having to train him harder – he'll take advantage of your presence again, that's for sure.
Just as you're about to look at your watch, the announcer's voice comes out of the speakers, finally calling out to the top three racers. All the other competitors are already there, hidden in the shadows of the stage, but they're not what you're here to watch. The third and second put on their best smile even if you sense some disappointment peek through their happiness and place themselves at the center under the spotlights. Then, they call out of Flayon and your team, and you erupt into cheers alongside the crowd – you're all definitely louder than anyone here, but there's no shame in it. (He notices you from afar and waves with a grin, eliciting even louder cheers from team Vanguard.)
『 On your marks… Get set… Go!』
Music fills the air, exciting the crowd even more if that's possible. The familiar song that has become the sport's official anthem is all over the place, the kind of song you'd probably never listen to by yourself, but by now, its lyrics and ever-changing rhythm are ingrained in your mind – you often find yourself humming it while working. On the stage, Flayon doesn't miss any step and the lyrics he regularly messed up during the rehearsals come out of his mouth with practiced ease. Perfect . He's always been a fast learner, but this song is notoriously hard to master – numerous first-time winners mess up and either freeze or simply make so many mistakes everyone feels sorry for them.
Already, the pre-chorus arrives and you brace yourself for what's to come – a killer move that'll stop your heart if you aren't ready. Just remembering it brings warmth to your cheeks – it could easily pass for simple elation, but you know it's not, though it's close to it. Fanservice, that's all it is, but it's powerful enough to make even the strongest man keel over.
Flayon advances to the front of the stage, placing his hands on his lips while looking at the crowd who roars, and his eyes land on you – if you were just a fan, you'd call yourself delusional – before blowing a kiss. You were prepared for it, you really were. At least you thought so, but it seems it was all for nothing. Your hands grip the bar in front of you as your knees buckle up, and you press your burning forehead to the cold metal – your heart doesn't go back to a normal beat rate until well after the song ends, when the crowd starts thinning out.
* * *
“Trainer, did you see me? How was I? I was super good, right?”
“Y-yeah…”
It's not time for the post-race meeting yet – you'll do that tomorrow when everyone is well-rested – but Flayon still follows you to the team room once you come back to the school grounds. What he wants is obvious, and you'll give it to him of course but even with his face flushed and his whole body trembling, he prefers to talk for a bit first.
“Hey, why aren't you looking at me?”
There's a certain lilt to his boyish voice that tells you he understands your feelings at a glance – you're supposed to be the adult here, but your wits have left somewhere, leaving you acting like an immature teenager. How embarrassing. In the corner of your vision, you see his tail swinging happily as if cornering you is enough to satisfy him.
“I can't believe something as simple as that still gets you,” he teases, and you can't help but nod. “It's kinda cute how you don't deny it though.”
Your ears barely register the words leaving his mouth next before his soft lips find yours, and you share a kiss, a childish peck that's over as soon as it begins. Flayon pulls away, his ears pricked forward as he tilts his head, looking straight at you. Then, he touches his lips with one hand, blowing you a kiss, quite similar to the one from earlier – for the umpteenth time today, your heart squeezes.
“Here, a reward for watching me thoroughly!”