Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Don’t you want your name to be known?”

White stood staring at Cyan, her arms folded over her chest as she looked at the other horse with a mix of pity and disgust.

“Can’t I just be content to be here?” Cyan asked with a shrug.

“Content?” White scoffed. “If you want to be content, go be a trail horse. You’re a racer, act like one.”

Cyan reached her hand up behind her head and scratched behind her ear, trying to process what White was saying.

“Well, what about Merry?” she asked. “You never see her acting super serious.”

“Because that orange idiot is too drugged up to have any thoughts.”

“That’s not true…” Cyan trailed off and glanced around, trying to see if anyone was overhearing them.

“Oh, don’t be naive. You don’t even sound sure yourself.”

“We really shouldn’t be gossiping about our friends like this.”

“Friends? Hah! Who made you think they were your friend? There’s no room for that here. Maybe if you realized that, you’d actually start winning.”

Cyan’s heart plummeted and her throat began to tighten. “But…” she choked out. “Aren’t we friends?”

“Not anymore. Today one of us wins and one of us loses. I’m not going to let you hold me back anymore.”

Turning about on her heel, White smoothed out her skirt and pushed her hair back over her shoulders. “See you on the track, Cy,” she said over her shoulder. “Winner takes all.”

As she watched White walk off from the stables, Cyan brushed the back of her hand against her cheek, feeling the tears that ran down her face. Anxiety gripped her chest. She couldn’t let her friends see her like this, if they were even her friends. She ran off into her stall and slammed the gate closed behind her. Her knees felt weak, and it was all she could do to hobble over to the wall and rest against it.

Will there ever come a day when I don’t cry?

“3…2…1…race!”

The gates slammed open and White and Cyan dashed forth. Their speed was equally matched, hooves pounding against the dirt with fury. Almost as much dust was kicked up as when the track was full. To Cyan, less horses only made the race feel more intense. Or maybe it was just that she couldn’t stop thinking about White. About what she said. How could she toss away all they had, just like that? After all they’d been through, all those long nights staring up at the stars, talking about the places they’d go, the life they would build together.

Cyan gritted her teeth and plowed forwards. As the two horses reached the gateway at the same time, White shoved her shoulder into Cyan’s, sending her back away. White ran into her before while racing, that was the nature of the game, but had she ever done so with such force? There was a malice in the act that wrenched Cyan’s heart in a way that didn’t feel possible.

Oh no, I’m going to cry again, aren’t I?

White rushed ahead down the hall, leaving Cyan behind. Cyan’s cry of pain echoed out from behind, and White chanced a glance over her shoulder. She was lagging behind, back in the starting stalls and gripping her arm in pain. Such weakness, White thought. God, let me win, so I don’t have to be like her .

The next corner came up, and White quickly hooked a right. This was too easy. The carrots would be hers in no time. But as she ran down the next hallway, she could hear hoofbeats behind her. There was no way Cyan caught up already, right? She had to look back to check. That loser was about to round the next corner! White skid to a stop and ran back down the hall. Better to play dirty than to let Cyan catch up. This was the dawn of a new day, a day when people would finally know her name, and she couldn’t let anyone dare to think this was a close match.

Cyan began to round the corner and her eyes went wide as she saw White charge forth. “That’s the wrong way, White!” she said while slowing down. “Did you get lost?”

As soon as she had finished talking, White’s elbow plunged into her stomach. All the air in Cyan’s lungs rushed out at once. Surely that was a mistake, right? Cyan looked up to White, pleading with her eyes. She didn’t even have to say sorry, she just had to look surprised, anything to indicate that this was no on purpose.

“Stay back,” White said. “You’re getting in my way.”

There was only so much more heartbreak she could take. Cyan stuck her leg out, tripping White as she tried to get back into the hallway. White retaliated, kicking up dust and blinding Cyan, causing her to run into one of the walls. Pushing herself off, she backed up into White on accident, redirecting her back away. The two continued into a confused dance, shoving each other both on purpose and accidentally, as they tried to enter the next hallway and prevent their competitor from following.

As Cyan spun on her heels and tried to catch her balance, White saw an opportunity and fled down the hallway once more. Cyan recovered, and took her chance to go down another hallway. She may have been dizzy, but she at least remembered her left from right. It was something White always struggled with.

“It doesn’t matter who wins, White,” Cyan said to herself as she continued to plow forward. “As long as we have each other, our love will be sweeter than any carrots. I hope you’ll realize that someday.”

Chapter Text

Two days ago

“I’m telling you, all I get high off of is the thrill of the race.”

Jovial Merryment leaned back against the bleachers behind her, arms slung over a steel bench as she swung a carrot around by its leaves. One of the many she had accrued by being the top of the herd. Some said her carelessness with the carrots was a sign of arrogance and disrespect. She said it was because she got hungry, and what are carrots for if not eating?

Grey nodded along with a smile. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” she said. “I was only wondering s’all.”

“I can’t wait to find who started that rumor,” Yellow said as she crossed her arms and scowled. “Calling into question the integrity of these races. It’s just…just shameful!”

“It’s no big deal,” Merry said as she took a big chomp of her carrot. “Let them think what they will. Besides, what is it they say? All publicity is good publicity?”

“I’m not sure that’s said as a good thing,” Yellow grumbled. “Besides, aren’t you worried about getting disqualified if too many people think that?”

“Oh. Huh. Guess I didn’t think of that. You’re right, that would be pretty bad.”

“Well, hopefully the rumors just blow over,” Grey said. “People just need something to talk about.”

“And now they’ve got something new to talk about,” a voice called out from across the tracks. A girl approached wearing a long, dark navy jacket with gold piping and bullets, white breeches, and a loose tie around her neck. Her shaggy indigo bob fluttered in the wind, getting in the way of the piercing sapphire eyes that stared daggers at Jovial Merryment.

The orange horse chomped off another piece of her carrot and cocked her head at the newcomer. “Oh hi Bullet’n,” she said with a smile and a full mouth. “Congrats on the win! You did good out there.”

Bullet’n Board snorted and rolled her eyes. “Right, of course,” she said. “I guess I should thank you for wasting your time in that stupid circle.”

Yellow narrowed her eyes and stepped forward, cutting between Merry and Bullet’n. “Did you just come here to gloat? Isn’t winning enough?”

“Are you seriously trying to protect Ms. I’ve-Won-More-Than-Any-Other-Horse-Except-Me? I think she can handle it.”

“Do people actually call you that?” Grey asked in a whisper. “That’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“Thanks, Yellow,” Merry said as she hopped off from the bleachers and came up alongside Yellow, propping her elbow on the other girl’s shoulder. “But she’s kinda right. I was wasting my time there. Honestly? I just didn’t feel like winning that day.”

Bullet’n raised a skeptical eyebrow, Grey’s eyes widened into saucers, and Yellow beamed up at Merry as she leaned on her.

“So that’s the story you want to go with?” Bullet’n asked, her voice dripping with doubt. “You just didn’t feel like winning? Yeah, right. You just let me even up the score with you.”

“Sure did,” she said, taking another bite of her carrot, then offering the next to Yellow. “I like having the competition. Besides, I got tired of the press, the photographs, the victory party. I just wanted to chill that night.”

Yellow looked back and forth between Merry and the carrot, then leaned in and took a bite while Merry kept holding it.

“I know you,” Bullet’n said. “You care about winning more than anything else. You revel in the spotlight.”

“Sounds like you’re projecting a bit,” Yellow said.

“Sometimes I do really want to win,” Merry said. “But some days my head’s just elsewhere, I guess.”

“Those performance enhancers will do that to you.”

“Is that what this is all about? I’m kinda tired of yapping about that.”

“I just want a fair match, Jovial. That means no drugs and taking this seriously.”

“That's all you want?”

“That’s all I want.”

“Consider it done,” Jovial Merryment said as she flashed a smile at Bullet’n. Smiling seemed to be her natural state, but this was different. There was something about this grin that touched a deep part of Bullet’n’s psyche. A fight-or-flight response triggered by some primal threat so dangerous that the body reacts on instinct. She shook her head and backed away. Surely she was just imagining things, overreacting. It was a bad habit of hers that she tried hard to reign in.

“See you at the races then,” Bullet’n said and walked off, still trying to shake away the feeling that Jovial left her with.

“That was weird,” Grey said. “What are you going to do about her?”

“The only thing I can do,” Merry said. “Win.”

Grey barreled out of the gate down the Genesis hallway, leaving the other horses in the dust. She smiled, hopeful that finally she would achieve victory again. But she soon corrected those feelings. I haven’t won yet, she thought to herself. Not by a longshot. I need to focus, I can’t let myself keep losing. She glanced behind herself and saw Yellow catching up, and Bullet’n Board not far behind. Maybe she could stay ahead of Yellow, but Bullet’n was another problem.

I’m not cut out for this. I’ll always lose to a faster horse. Look how fast Bullet’n can gallop! Why am I even in the same league as her? This whole thing is a mistake.

As she was distracted and lost in her thoughts, she slammed into the wall ahead of her and stumbled backwards. She clutched her head and, in a dazed stupor, walked into the trackway, cutting off Yellow and driving her away from the course and into another wall.

“Hey!” Yellow shouted.

“Sorry!” Grey replied, then laughed awkwardly. “Didn’t see where I was going!”

“Talk later, race now.”

She’s right , Grey thought. I’m a klutz. I’m going to cost myself this race. I need to do better, I need to-

“Look out!” Yellow shouted. Grey turned just in time to see Bullet’n catching up. She pushed straight into the two horses, pushing them back into the corner. It didn’t even seem like Bullet’n was looking at them, more like looking through them and focusing only on the track.

Yellow and Grey tried to get back on track, and in the confusion of dirt and dust filling the air, pushed into each other and Bullet’n. Yellow moved defensively, keeping Bullet’n from pushing forward, while Grey tried her best to find a way back onto the course. Then, a sound of galloping unlike any of the others. More of a joyful skip than anything else, but fast and strong. Jovial had arrived.

The orange horse barreled into the other three, unable to see where she was going. The next several seconds passed in chaos, as the addition of yet another horse made it impossible to see, move, or think about where to go. And all of them knew that once the dust settled and Door Knob could make it out of the starting gates, she would hold no mercy in reaching the end. Merry couldn’t waste time here. The others could get stuck in their worries or strategize too much and reel when their plans fell apart. That was where Merry had an advantage. She saw the track and nothing else. As soon as she saw an opening, she slipped out of the scuffle and raced down the next hallway.

With one less horse present, the jam started to clear, and Yellow was the next out. She rushed forward, trying to catch up to Merry. She wanted to run alongside her, perhaps even win with Merry at second place right behind. But the hallway was too narrow to accommodate the two. Yellow bumped up against Merry and stumbled. She fell and caught her knee, wincing in pain. Merry skidded to a halt and looked back, worry plastered over her face.

“Keep going!” Yellow said, waving her on. “I’ll be fine!”

Merry gulped and nodded. She got back into a starting position and took off once more. Hoofbeats approached. Someone was about to overtake her. Bullet’n she reckoned. That was fine, she just had to focus and keep pushing even harder. But the hoofbeats were regular, well-paced, mechanical in their precision and repetitiveness. This was not Bullet’n. This was the girl that had dominated the second track. The only other horse to challenge Merry and Bullet’n in speed. She was never clouded by emotions, never viewing the race as more than just a job. A job that she was one of the best at.

Door Knob had arrived.

Merry felt panic grip her as Door Knob cruised on ahead, not once glancing over to Merry or focusing on anything over the track.

“No!” Merry yelled out.

She tried to match Door Knob’s pace, but fell short. The carrots came into view. There was no way she could catch up in time. At least, not if she aimed for the carrots. Door Knob was having trouble making the sharp turn, and Merry saw her opportunity. She changed trajectory and slammed straight in Door Knob with her shoulder. Door Knob reeled and refocused, not trying to waste time retaliating. But before she could get up to speed again, she was slammed once more by Merry. The orange horse leaped into the air, using her full weight to send Door Knob back. The two fell to the ground, but Merry was quicker in her recovery. Already back on her feet, she kicked up as much dust as she could and began to run.

Door Knob always had poor eyesight in the dust, so she trusted her ears. She closed her eyes and followed the sounds of Merry's hooves. But after several seconds of running, she realized there were multiple horses ahead of her. How could that be? She opened her eyes to find herself back further towards the starting gates. Merry had tricked her by running in the opposite direction of the carrots.

At the finish line, Merry pranced around, twirled, and danced. The carrots were hers, and nobody could stop her. She couldn’t help but celebrate and waved to the crowd with a huge grin as she gave a show. Merry had heard many stories growing up warning against a premature celebration. But she didn’t care. She needed the crowd to know she wasn’t just good, she was the best. She needed Bullet’n to know that she was a worthy competitor. It was the only way to get her attention, after all. And when she was on the track, there was no other horse she would rather have watching her win.

Chapter Text

Grey leaned over the water trough and scooped up a large handful of water. She brought it up high over her head and released it, a cooling waterfall to wash away at least some of the sweat and dirt. Another race lost. But it was to Jovial, so it didn’t really matter, right? She was one of the greatest racehorses alive after all. Not even Door Knob could beat her in the homestretch. But Grey couldn’t even get to that final stage. Was she really worthy of this?

As if she could hear Grey thinking about her, Door Knob walked up and tossed her leather jacket to the ground. She sighed, rolled her shoulders, then plunged her head straight into the trough. She kept it there for several seconds, not drinking or breathing, then smoothly lifted her head up. Door Knob was in complete control of her body, even while trying to cool off from a race.

If only I could be that graceful, Grey thought. Even when she doesn’t win, she never wavers. No one ever thinks she’s weak. God, I want to be her.

Grey realized she was staring and quickly tried to come up with something to say to mask it. “So uh, have a good race?”

“A race is a race,” Door Knob leaned down to pick up her jacket, then turned to face Grey. “Win, lose. Whatever. We get paid either way. Just a little less if we lose.”

Easy thing to say when you’ve got a name .

“Yeah, you’re right I guess,” Grey said while scratching the back of her neck. “I heard you got real close out there, nice work.”

“I choked. I made a mistake somewhere. Not sure where, but I’ll find it in the reviews.”

“Reviews?”

“Yes, reviews. Watching the recordings. Seeing what went right. What went wrong. Do you not review?”

“No, not really. I just uh, sorta stick with doing what I know.”

“Review your races. You have potential. Capitalize on it.”

“Yeah…maybe…”

Seeing her mistake and reliving those painful moments was the last thing Grey wanted to do, but she couldn’t let Knob know that.

“Say, do you know where White and Cyan are?” Grey said, hoping to change the subject. “It’s odd to not see them at the race.”

“They were sent to the torture labyrinth.”

Grey’s jaw dropped. “The torture labyrinth!?!?” She couldn’t have possibly heard that correctly, right?

“That’s what the designers called it. I think it’s a joke. I tested the track for them, pretty easy. Just take three right turns.”

“So left?”

“Right.”

“Three of them.”

“Right.”

“So one left.”

“No, just right.”

“Yeah…alright. Anyways, I hope they’re doing okay.”

“We’ll see. I saw White before the race. She was possessed.”

“Possessed?”

“Yes, with the need to win.”

“How does it feel to be champion again?” Yellow asked, as she loomed over Jovial Merryment and braided her hair while kneeling on a sheepskin rug. It was just a small section of hair, on the right side of her face. That was how Merry liked it, so that’s how Yellow liked it.

Merry smiled wide, her eyes closed in quiet contentment as she basked in the few rays of afternoon sunlight that glistened through the window.

“Feels like home.”

“Where is home for you? I don’t think I ever asked.”

“I meant what I said and I said what I meant. Home for me is a track with friends and lots of tasty carrots.”

“Okay, how about when you retire?”

“Blegh,” Merry fake gagged. “Don’t even want to think about that. Guess I’ll leave that decision up to you.”

“Up to me?” Yellow reeled back.

“Why not?” Merry giggled and sat up, propping herself on her elbows. “You’re my closest friend, after all. I’d love to live with you.”

“Oh right, friends.”

“What else would we be?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Merry shrugged and flopped back down. Yellow followed her motion downwards and picked up the half-braided hair to continue her work.

“You don't have to spend so much time fussing over me, you know.”

“But I enjoy it, and a champion deserves to be cared for.”

“A champion, huh? Just yesterday, the scores were tied.”

“And before that, you were winning. You know they’re calling you the greatest racehorse of all time? People love you.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Well, it’s what they say. You make people happy, they love watching you.”

“And they love to say I cheat too,” Merry sighed and splayed her palms out on the rug, feeling the dense, soft sheepskin. “That’s all I want to do, you know, make people happy. I want to have fun racing and I want them to have fun too.”

“Do you have fun?”

“Of course I do! But all these people take it so seriously. The fans bet so much on us, and the other horses throw around these rumors and challenges. It’s a bit much.”

“Then prove them wrong, show them something legendary, and have fun doing it. Prove to them you don’t have to be serious to be great.” 

“Something legendary, huh?” Merry stared up at the ceiling and pursed her lips. “What’s the quickest anyone’s ever completed a race?”

“One minute and forty-five milliseconds.”

“Wow, you pulled that out quickly,” Merry giggled. “Who’s time is that?”

Yellow laughed, tied off the end of the braid, and dropped it on to Merry’s face.

“Yours, silly.”

“Oh yeah, duh,” Merry lightly smacked herself in the forehead with the heel of her hand, then shook her head to get the hair off her face. “I really am the best, huh? Well how about a time under a minute. That would be pretty legendary.”

“That would be extraordinary, but if anyone can do it, it’s you. And I’ll help you get there.”

 “No, I’m not dragging you into my pie in the sky dreams. You should be training too. It's been a bit since your last victory, hasn’t it? Don't you want people to know your name?”

“Don't worry about me. I'm doing fine, besides you win enough for the both of us.”

“What, are we a duo now? I don't think that's a thing in racing. Unless it's a relay race.”

“Maybe not on the tracks, but off the tracks we could be a duo, a pair, a-” Yellow coughed and waved it off. “Well there's lots of words for two people. But what I mean is, I want to support you, I'm happy when you're happy, and you're happy when you win. So let me help you win.”

“Alright then. But after that, you win. I want to know the feeling of your name on my lips.”

“That’s three. Come on, one more,” Door Knob said as she stood over the leg press. “Nobody stops at odd numbers.”

Bullet’n Board gritted her teeth and used all the energy she could to push with her legs once more. One more rep, that was all she needed to do. Then she could let her legs collapse.

“That’s four, great. Now one more,” Knob said. “Nobody stops at four.”

Bullet’n shot daggers with her eyes, but closed her eyes and pushed forward.

“Five. You know, I hear Jovial does sets of six.”

That was all she needed to hear. The next two came in quick succession. Seven reps at three-hundred pounds. It was more than she had ever done, and it felt embarrassingly easy. One orange fool shouldn’t make me feel this way.

“Seven. One more, nobody stops at odd numbers.”

Bullet’n shouted out and forced the leg press up one more time, then let it collapse back down.

“I remember why I stopped training with you now,” she said. “Is this what you tell yourself when you work out?”

“No,” Knob said plainly, as she swapped with Bullet’n and slid into the leg press machine. “I just do it.”

“If only all the girls were workhorses like you,” she said. “Then we’d have some real competition.”

“I think you have enough competition. Merry and I both got much closer to the carrots than you last race.”

“I can respect losing to you,” Bullet’n huffed and crossed her arms. “But Merry?”

“Because she’s cheating?” Knob asked as she pushed the leg press up and down, barely breaking a sweat.

“No,” Bullet’n reluctantly admitted. “I don’t think she’s cheating. She’s just naturally good. And that’s the problem. You and I work for this. We pour blood, sweat, and tears into it. Even White has been trying to improve herself at all costs. But Merry? She just trots around with that stupid grin, acting like it’s all a game.”

“You hate her because she enjoys herself?”

“It’s because whenever she wins she’s so carefree. It makes it look like all we do to get there is a waste. What hope does hard work have when compared to that? She doesn’t just win, she wins with style. She danced last time! Danced while we tried to reach the carrots.”

“You sound obsessed,” Knob said as she stepped away from the leg press.

Bullet’n frowned and took her seat in the machine once more. With every painful rep, she thought of Merry. That goofy smile. The way she made friends as easily as she ran. Her beautiful brown hair. Door Knob was right, she was obsessed. Even when she won, she still thought of Merry. If winning wasn’t a solution, what was? Did she hate Merry for beating her, or because there wasn’t room at the top for two horses?

As long as Merry galloped faster than her, they’d never be able to race side-by-side.

“Who the fuck are they?” Door Knob monotonely asked no one in particular.

“I’m Red!” The red horse announced, spinning towards Door Knob and pointing to herself with a thumb to the chest. “And I’m the new fastest horse on the block. So just stay out of my way.”

“And I’m uh, Pink,” the pink horse muttered while wringing her hands. “Pluh-pluh-please, I don’t want an-an-any trouble! I’ll stay out of your way, promise.”

The other five horses looked at each other, all with equal amounts of skepticism and confusion. Grey shuffled over to Door Knob and leaned in.

“Are Cyan and White still in the labyrinth?” She whispered.

“Must be,” Door Knob answered with a shrug.

Grey furrowed her brow and stepped back into line. She had more she wanted to say, but the announcer had already begun the countdown.

“9…8…7…”

Yellow looked over to Merry, and the two nodded to each other as they took their starting positions.

“6…5…4…”

Bullet’n stared at Merry. That unnerving smile was back on her face. What was that? And what was that nod that Yellow and Merry shared about?

“3…2…1…”

All seven horses galloped forth, though only Red made it out as the crowd became jammed in the starting gates.

“See you all later, losers!” She yelled out, leaving the rest behind in the dust. Too easy , she thought to herself. And I thought this league had the real champions .

Red couldn’t stay complacent for long, however. Out of the dust sprinted forth Yellow, hot on her trail. Such a prim and neatly kept girl didn’t seem like she’d cause any trouble, so Red turned her attention back to the hallway and kept moving. A critical mistake. Yellow threw her hands out and grabbed Red by the shoulders, yanking her back and twisting her around.

“What the-!” Red shouted and whirled. How dare someone try to sabotage her like that. This yellow-haired horse would have to pay.

Back at the starting gate, Pink quickly slipped out at the first opportunity and dashed down a side hall. She crouched down, shivering in fear. So much dust, noise, and bodies shoving into each other. What kind of horse races were these?

Merry followed Pink’s lead and took the same opening. As soon as she was out of the scuffle, she looked up at the digital clock hanging above the track. 13 seconds already. Too much time wasted in the starting gates. She had to step things up. Push herself into overdrive. This was not the moment to be jovial. This was not the moment to be merry. This was the moment to be the greatest of all time.

Red began to push back into Yellow, but out of nowhere, an orange blur rammed into her. Was that Merry? She couldn’t even catch a glimpse. The nerve of these horses. She dug her heels into the dirt and began to give chase, but Yellow stuck her hoof out and tripped Red before she could even take two steps.

Yellow and Merry dashed down the hall. Yellow in the lead, scouting out for Merry and showing her the way. Merry controlled her breath. Paced herself for the final push. 20 seconds. Time was running out.

“Come on Merry!” Yellow shouted. “Around this corner!”

Merry narrowed her eyes and focused. If she got the angle just right, she could turn without having to slow down. It risked a wipeout, but if it paid off, it’d be worth it. Full speed ahead. Damn the consequences!

A miscalculation. Her feet gave out from under her. The ground began to approach. Then warm hands propping her up and a gentle push forward. She didn’t fall. Around the corner and on she went.

25 seconds.

“Wait!” Yellow shouted out.

Merry could see the carrots. The prize was hers! But she turned around to see what Yellow wanted. The other horse trotted up and grabbed Merry by the wrists.

“You look too serious,” Yellow whispered to Merry. “You need to win with a smile. Here, I can’t let you feel my name on your lips, but I can let you feel this.”

Before Merry could respond or react in any way, Yellow leaned in and planted a kiss on Merry’s lips. It was only the briefest of sensations, but Merry could feel the warmth of the sun in that moment.

“Now go,” Yellow said, her face bright pink. “Be a legend.”

Merry broke out into a wide, full-toothed grin and dashed off. There were no walls, horses, or dust obstructing her, nothing that could stand in her way. The world was hers. Yellow was hers. And in only a few seconds, the carrots at the end of the track were hers.

The buzzer sounded.

32.10 seconds.

The fastest time a horse had ever achieved.

Chapter Text

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Grey tapped on the dorm room’s door, but nobody answered.

“Hello?” She called out. “White, are you in there?”

Silence.

Cyan wasn’t in her room either, or at least wasn’t answering. Nor were the two horses at the practice tracks, at the gym, grabbing lunch, or socializing with any of the other horses. She asked everyone if they had seen them, but there were no leads. Rumors floated about that they were kicked from the league due to their poor performance and were replaced by Red and Pink, but something about that didn’t sit right with Grey. The timing worked out, sure, and maybe Red and Pink were their replacements, but why would it be kept so secretive? Were they still in that labyrinth? Surely not, it shouldn’t take days to complete a track. Unless they were never meant to finish the race.

A horrifying realization swept over Grey. Was this what they did to horses that fell behind? Trapped them in the labyrinth until everyone forgot they existed? Her stomach twisted in knots, and the ground began to spin.

Am I next?

Guilt flooded her. She should be thinking about her friends, not herself. They’re the ones who’ve been trapped. The sole comforting thought was that White and Cyan at least had each other. They were always such good friends. But if only they had won just one race! They could still be here, they could even have names!

Names. Grey didn’t have one yet either. Just a color. An interchangeable cog in the machine. Is the competition not exciting enough? Are the bets not risky and thrilling? Just take out one cog and replace it with the next. Red for White, Pink for Cyan. Next would it be Green for Grey? Her stomach churned and she collapsed against White’s door, just barely stopping herself from falling by clutching onto the handle.

Second place gets nothing. I need to win.

Grey slammed her foot into the ground in anger. Not at the organizers of the race or their cruel system, but at herself. How could she be so stupid? No reviewing the races, no extra sessions practicing on the tracks, no strict exercise regime. She had told herself, why bother if winning was just a one time fluke . Her complacency would be the death of her. Something had to change.

I need to win .

But how? Was it even possible to win at this point? Everyone else was so far ahead of her; they had been training while she sat back and let them continue to surpass them further and further. What she needed was a trainer. Door Knob was good, but she had fallen behind in recent races. Jovial Merryment was the obvious choice, but not only was she swarmed with press and celebrations after her phenomenal win streak, it really seemed like it came too naturally for her. That is, if she was telling the truth about being clean. That only left one winner, and it was the one she was most scared of approaching.

“Can you believe the audacity of that horse?”

Bullet’n shouted out as she pulled a pair of sneakers out from her locker and slammed the door shut. Grey winced and jumped slightly from the loud noise. This was exactly why Bullet’n was her last choice.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“She cheated!”

“You mean you still think she’s doping?” Grey asked in a hushed tone. She took a step closer and looked frantically around, ensuring that they were truly alone.

“No,” Bullet’n said, as loud as ever. “Well, maybe she is. If she wants to resort to this sort of low-handed, unsportsmanlike, cowardly behavior - and so blatantly at that - then who knows what she’s doing behind closed doors to get an edge.”

“Are you…talking about Yellow kissing her?”

“What, no!” Bullet’n quickly said as her face began to turn a brighter shade of red. “I don’t know what was up with that, but I do know it’s completely against the spirit of the competition to have another horse aid your victory like that. Yellow easily could have won on her own, but she didn’t. I don’t know what leverage Jovial is holding over her head, or how much she paid her, but I can’t let her get away with it.”

“Well, based on that kiss-”

“We don’t even know if that was a kiss!” Bullet’n interjected. “They were a bit obscured, and none of us saw it, only the audience. We're working off of second-hand information here. Maybe they were just whispering something to each other.”

Grey shuffled around and stared down at her feet. This was not the conversation she wanted to be having or even listening to. Merry and Yellow were her friends! And here Bullet’n was calling into question their character. Did she not see that they were just supporting each other? But it wouldn’t do any good to call her out on it, that would just send her spiraling even further. And then who would train her?

“So…” Grey began, trying to redirect the conversation. “I realize I’ve been falling behind lately, and I was wondering, if it’s not too much trouble, if you could help me with some training?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a smirk. “If I beat Jovial, nothing will change. But if you beat her, then maybe she’ll come to her senses and try to win fairly. She’ll realize this track isn’t her personal playground.”

Of course, Grey thought. It always comes back to Jovial Merryment with this one. Well, beggars can’t be choosers.

“This won’t be easy,” Bullet’n continued. “We’ll train from sunup to sundown. When you need to rest from racing, you’ll be reviewing your mistakes. You’ll be able to tell me every single thing you did wrong and what you could’ve done differently, and you’ll have the skill to execute those changes.”

Grey’s heart sank. This sounded like hell. She lay awake at night, trying all she could to stop thinking about her past mistakes. Now she would be forced to learn even more mistakes and why she was an idiot for not doing something else. She wanted to turn around and flee from the locker room, to tell Bullet’n that she changed her mind actually, and that Merry seemed like a better fit for a trainer. But she wouldn’t get her name then. She needed a name. She needed to live.

“Okay,” Grey said with a heavy sigh and a firm nod of the head. “Let’s do it. Whatever it takes.”

“Ms. Merryment, what do you have to say about the accusations that you are taking performance-enhancing drugs to achieve your sub-minute race?”

“Are you aware that you’re a role model to millions of foals? Do you think your behavior on the track sets a good example for them?”

“What is the nature of your relationship with Yellow? Are you two dating?”

“Did you pay Yellow off to win?”

“There are allegations that you bullied and coerced other horses into staying at the starting gate. How would you like to respond?”

Merry kept replaying the interviews again and again in her head as she crouched down on the track. She was supposed to be a legend right now. The fastest time ever! But all she heard were rumors and accusations. There was even a petition going around to test her for drugs and kick her off the league. The other horses kept their distance. Grey started training with Bullet’n, Red complained about how Merry and Yellow sabotaged her to anyone that would listen, Pink seemed scared to even be near Merry, and even the cool and collected Door Knob was talking about how the last race didn’t reflect ‘true skill’.

She looked over to her right. Yellow was crouched beside her, ready for their practice race. At least she still had that ray of sunshine by her side. After every press conference, every nasty argument, Yellow was there for her to hold her tight and let her know it would all be okay. They hadn’t kissed again or even mentioned what happened, but that was okay. Not everything had to be labeled, dissected, and investigated. Merry was happy to have at least one thing in her life that she didn’t need to question.

“Hey,” Merry said. “I don’t feel like racing right now.”

“That’s okay,” Yellow said with a gentle smile. She stood up from her crouched ready position and walked over to the grass, then sat down with her legs folded underneath her. “We can just rest.”

Yellow could see the heavy bags under Merry’s eyes. Everything seemed to be a struggle today. Even as Merry stood up and walked over with a smile, it felt forced and strained. She had never seen Merry like this. Everything about her was supposed to be effortless, especially that goofy grin that was always plastered on her face. Merry slowly set herself down on the grass next to Yellow and leaned her head against her shoulder.

“I’m so tired of this bullshit,” she wearily said.

“I know,” Yellow said as she began to stroke Merry’s hair. “Things will calm down soon, don’t worry. And if they don’t, then I’ll be here to help every step of the way.”

“What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”

“Just being who you are.”

Merry snuggled her head into the crook between Yellow’s jaw and shoulder, and closed her eyes.

“You know, retirement doesn’t sound so bad now,” Merry said. “End things at their peak.”

“But what if someone beats your record?’

“Then maybe they’ll leave me alone.”

“Hmmm,” Yellow mused to herself. This all felt so wrong, but it didn’t feel like she could say anything beyond just platitudes. So she said nothing and continued to stroke Merry’s hair as she gazed up at the sky.

“I should just sit the next race out,” Merry said with a sigh. “My fans will understand.”

“Do that and I’ll kick your ass,” someone said from across the track. Merry looked up to see Door Knob sauntering up, thumbs tucked between her belt and her ripped jeans.

Yellow removed her hand from Merry’s head and clutched the grass below her until her knuckles turned white. “What’s your problem?” Yellow said. “Can’t you see that she’s going through a lot right now?”

Knob looked down at Merry and shrugged her shoulders.

“You can feel whatever you want off the track,” she said. “But when that buzzer sounds and the gates open, you better have your head in the game.”

“What’s it matter to you?” Merry asked.

“If you stop competing, the bets are all thrown off, and interest is lost. We don’t need you to win. Actually, we need you to win less. But we do need you to be seen as a worthy competitor. Not some has-been.”

“A has-been?” Yellow balked. “She’s the reigning champion and fastest racer of all time!”

“For now. The tides turn quickly. Red is talking a big game about being the fastest horse from her old league and that she’s coming for your title. Bullet’n is always a clear threat. And I hear even Grey is gunning for the top now.”

“So you’ll have a new champion, your paycheck will be fine.”

“That’s not how it works. We all do better when we all perform at our best. And I know you’re capable of more. I’ll see you at the starting line.”

Door Knob turned on her heel and walked back off, boots loudly stomping across the track.

“You don’t have to listen to her,” Yellow said quietly. “She can deal with it.” “Yeah, I guess…” Merry trailed off.

Door Knob would be fine, but she had a point. Committed racers uplift each other. And if Yellow kept clinging to Merry as she spiraled, the two would plummet together. It was one thing to fall alone, it was another to drag an innocent soul down with you.

The starting gate was pure madness. Indistinguishable shapes moving about, colliding with force and purpose. This was not like other chaotic starts, where horses tried to find their way and bumped into each other as they looked for the exit. They pulled each other back, pushed each other when someone got close to the exit. Only Red and Grey managed to escape, as they raced down the hall together.

“S-s-sorry Merry!” Pink stuttered out as she grabbed onto the orange jacket and strained to pull her back. “Red t-t-told me that I uh, I had to stop you from interfering again!”

As Merry began to slip and fall back, Door Knob collided with Pink and shoved her away. “Let her race, newblood!”

While Pink and Door Knob wrangled with each other, Bullet’n Board charged towards Merry. Yellow saw this and tried to rush forth, but Merry put a palm up to stop her.

“Don’t!” Merry cried out. “Go race, I’ll be fine.”

“But-” Yellow started.

“But nothing! Please, I want to know your name!”

Yellow gasped, then quickly shut her mouth and gave a solid nod. Merry was the greatest racer, she could handle herself. And if knowing her name was what Merry wanted, then it’s what she would get.

Merry watched as Yellow ran out of the gate and was blindsided when Bullet’n swept her legs. She collapsed on the dirt with a loud thud. She wiped her nose as she struggled back to her feet. Blood.

“Get up,” Bullet’n said.

“Why? So you can kick me down again?” Merry looked around to see if Door Knob was able to help, but she had gotten stuck in the side alcove, pushed in there by Pink. Guess she’d have to deal with Bullet’n alone.

“You cheated.”

“Nothing in the rules says one horse can’t help another.” Merry stumbled to her feet and immediately sidestepped out of the way as Bullet’n charged in with her shoulder.

“They say a lot about bribery,” Bullet’n huffed as she tried to catch Merry, who dodged out of the way of the next few lunges with expert grace. “And coercion.”

“What about love?”

Bullet’n froze. “What?”

“That’s why she helped me! She loves me!”

“But why break the integrity of the race?”

“I’ll tell you why I did it,” Merry huffed out, catching her breath as the fight paused for a moment. “I did it because I’ve never seen you truly happy while racing. I wanted to prove that you can have fun and win at the same time! And what do you mean integrity!? Do you hear yourself? You’re trying to stop me from racing. If you want to race, go!”

Bullet’n took a few uneasy steps back. Merry was right. How did she not see it? She had been too obsessed with Merry, with racing beside her, that she forgot her own principles. She wanted to snap back, say something to rebut all of Merry’s points, but nothing came out. Instead, she turned and ran off down the track, leaving Merry behind.

Further down the track, Yellow dashed ahead. She stumbled in a few places, but overall it was looking like one of her best runs yet. The only horse ahead of her was Grey. She’d never seen Grey race like that before. The slight, hesitant horse had become agile and deft, taking every turn with precision. When she began to stumble, she redirected the momentum to power herself forward. She slid around turns, grabbed protruding corners to redirect herself. And that look in her eyes. There was that look of fierce determination in them.

“You’re doing great, Grey!” Yellow said as she saddled up next to her. “Do a lot of training lately?”

Grey fought the desire to turn and look at Yellow. That was a mistake she made in the past. Eyes on the track.

“Bullet’n has been helping me,” Grey said. “I need to know my name.”

“Guess we’re racing for the same thing then.”

Grey hesitated. Perhaps it was selfish of her to keep racing when Yellow wanted the same thing. They’d both only won once. They both needed names. She was a fast horse too, and she sacrificed her chance at victory in the last race to help Merry. She was better than Grey in other ways too. Gentler, friendlier, prettier. May the best horse win after all, and best meant more than just speed.

“Watch out!” Yellow cried.

Grey looked up and skidded to a halt as she was about to collide with a wall. Dammit, she got lost in her thoughts again and stopped paying attention to the track. It was one of her worst mistakes.

“Are you okay?” Yellow asked, seeing the panic in Grey’s face.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” she said while crouching down to set herself up to run again.

“You really want this, huh?”

“I’m afraid,” Grey said under her breath. “Afraid of just being something forgettable. Some random horse that can be replaced on a whim, like White and Cyan.”

Yellow smiled pitifully at Grey. She was doing this for Merry, Grey was doing this for herself. She already had what she wanted; did she really need to scoop this from Grey? And what about Merry? There was still no sign of her running down the track. She had told Yellow to go, but still she abandoned her. She shouldn’t have listened. She should be back there, helping her out.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Huh?” Grey looked up in bewilderment, but Yellow was already sprinting off in the other direction.

“Why aren’t you racing?” Bullet’n called out as she ran down the track. “Come on! Eyes forward, keep moving.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Grey shouted, and she sprinted off, Bullet’n trailing behind.

Back at the starting stables, Jovial Merryment sat slumped down against the wall. Door Knob had just gotten free of her confinement and driven off Pink. That shy little horse was a whole lot stronger than she expected. She could’ve gone off after them, joined in the race, but what would be the point? The race was probably about to end anyways, and she’d just end up in last place. Better to take the moment to rest, instead. So she closed her eyes and tried to control her breaths.

The sound of hoofsteps cantering up forced her eyes open. Yellow entered the starting gate and spared no time diving for Merry and embracing her. The hug hurt as Yellow squeezed broken ribs, but it felt so good all the same. Merry returned the embrace and didn’t let go.

“Yellow!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing back here?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“It was too much, I just can’t race today.”

“That’s alright, you can rest. It’s almost over, and you’ll still be the champion.”

“And if I never win another race?”

“Then you’ll still have won my heart.”

The two continued to hold each other, refusing to let go, even as their tears ran down each other’s backs.

At the end of the track, Grey and Bullet’n raced neck-to-neck. There was no purposeful shoving, tripping, or kicking up dust. Just a good, classic race. Everything Bullet’n taught her, Grey practiced, but that also meant she was predictable. Bullet’n used it to her advantage, finding the perfect angles of attack to cut her off or make a turn without colliding.

“I’m not like Yellow,” Bullet’n called out. “I’m not going to just hand the victory to you.”

“First you help me train,” Grey huffed out in between shallow breaths. “Now you want me to lose?”

“I want you to win. And I want you to win at the top of your performance. We’re racehorses, we push each other. We only move as fast as the horse we can see. So pick up the pace because I’m about to pick up mine!”

Bullet’n shifted from a canter to a gallop, feet flying in the air as they narrowed in on the carrots. But Grey took in a deep breath and focused.

Don’t think. Just set your target and go for it.

Grey cleared her mind. She didn’t need to process what happened next, the carrots were a straight shot from here. Just rely on instinct. She couldn’t compete with Bullet’n when it came to strategic angles and plans, he had to do it her own way. Instinct alone.

She curved outwards, away from the direct angle to the carrots. She didn’t need to know why, she just trusted her feet. Bullet’n glanced left and saw it, then panicked and stopped short to avoid hitting Grey. She slowed down, and it was enough for Grey to take the lead.

Before she could even realize what happened, Grey stood holding the carrots. The crowd cheered and based on the commotion, it seemed like she had been standing there for a bit before coming to her senses.

“Hey there Downtown Skybox,” Bullet’n smiled and held out a hand to Grey. Grey grabbed Bullet’s wrist and shook firmly. “Welcome back to the top.”

Chapter Text

How can you become lost in a single hallway? It might seem impossible, but it’s not. Not when dust fills the air and refuses to settle. Not when you’re too lost in your own grief over lost friends and failed ambitions to see the way out. Not when you’ve suffered a concussion at the hands of the only one who’s ever stood by your side.

Such was the situation that White and Cyan found themselves in. All they needed to do was find the carrots and they got out, but no matter how hard they looked there were none around. Maybe if they took their time, maybe if they collaborated, they could’ve found them by now. But there could only be one winner of a race, and White had made her choice. She was going to win at all costs, even if that meant cutting out Cyan.

Cyan sulked in one of the chambers, pacing back and forth as she vigorously rubbed her upper arms in a futile attempt to calm her down. It was the closest thing to an embrace she could get down here. She looked up and down one of the hallways leading out of the room. Or was it into the room? It was hard to say how far into the maze she was. Through bleary vision clouded by tears, she could see White running circles in a panic. Her beautiful ivory dress, adorned with fine lace and ribbons, had become tattered and stained from the chaos.

A stunning horse like her should never be without lovely finery, Cyan thought. Was this Hell? Was the sin of losing so great a stain to command a punishment like this?

She shuddered at the thought. If she thought too long about it, it would send her spiraling into an existential dread. Everything she ever did wrong in her life would come welling up from long repressed memories. Her youth as a young colt, always the outcast from the herd. Running by her lonesome to escape the pressures they put on her. The day she first entered professional racing and screwed up so badly in her first match, the trainer had to see if there was a mistake in who was sent acceptances. When she first tried to confess those feelings that she kept so close to her chest to White but backed out at the last second. She was bold on the field, where nothing mattered but the dirt beneath her feet.

But when confronted with matters of the heart, she was the biggest coward there was. Someone like that would only hold back White anyways. She had made that clear at the beginning of this race.

“Cyan!” White called out, shaking Cyan out of her stupor. “Have you found the carrots yet?”

“Obviously not,” she muttered, eyes cast to the ground.

“So we’re stuck.”

“Or lost.”

“No, no,” White shook her head and looked around frantically, as if the carrots might be tucked away in some secret part of the walls or ceiling that they just hadn’t found yet. “They’re here. They must be!”

“And what if they’re not? What if they’ve just left us here…left us to die?”

“Don’t be an idiot, why would-”

“Because nobody bets on losing horses! Oh sure, someone might take pity on us. Maybe they’ll toss a few dollars our way, just in case. But nobody will ever put a fortune on us. We’re a lost cause.”

“I’m not a loser,” White said, glaring at Cyan.

“No, you’re not,” Cyan refused to meet her gaze. Her shoes were easier to look at. “Not to me at least.”

White stomped her hoof on the ground and let out a guttural huff. She plodded back and forth, her hands balled into fists.

“One way or another, I’m getting out.”

She walked up to the wall and kicked at it with all her might. The wood shattered and chipped, leaving behind a sizeable dent. She pounded the same spot with her fist and shouted upwards at the ceiling.

“Do you hear me! I’m getting out of here! I will show you that I have what it takes! I’m not like Cyan, I promise. We’re nothing alike.”

“White…” Cyan gently said, reaching her hand out to her friends’ shoulder. White slapped the hand away and spun on her. She pointed a finger straight into White’s chest and leaned in. They were so close, their noses almost touched. Cyan feared that White could hear heartbeat. White’s gaze was focused into that single left eye, her right covered by a fanciful eyepatch. That eye burned a hole straight into Cyan’s soul. She felt all of ten inches tall.

“Don’t EVER put your hands on me again.”

Cyan trembled and stepped back. White turned away and rushed off down the hallway she had come from. Then back down again. Up and down, up and down. She raced to nowhere, and in each room, she hit every wall, checked every surface. There had to be a way out. There just had to be. It was a trick, a measure of intelligence. White refused to believe otherwise. There was no way they would just leave them here to die. Cyan had to be mistaken, she just had to be.

With no luck in either room, White turned into the other hallways leading out of the room where Cyan was left behind, sobbing in the corner. Maybe she was too harsh on the girl. She was sweet, kind, and compassionate. Everything White was not. Everything White should be. After every race, despite never winning, she would always congratulate the winner with a smile on her face. She’d rant to White about how much fun it had been. All the excitement they had, and how she couldn’t wait to race again. The result of the race didn’t matter.

It must be a nice way to live, White thought. But it’s not for me.

As she walked into that next corridor, her pace was slowed by these thoughts. She took her time examining the walls, and there it was. A small egress leading off from the hallway. This labyrinth had trained them to see only turns at the end of rooms. They had forgotten to check the sides of the walls, especially for exits so small. She began to trot towards it, but the echoing of Cyan’s cries held her back.

If she grabbed the carrots, what would happen to her friend? Despite it all, that’s what they were. I guess that’s what we still are, friends. If Cyan was right, then whoever lost this race would be consigned to dismissal, or worse. They all knew what happened to racehorses that couldn’t compete anymore. If you were a champion, they might let you retire and live a nice, long life. But Cyan was far from a champion.

White began to walk backwards, shying away from the hallway. But the allure of victory pulled her in closer and closer. Without realizing it, her feet had dragged her back to where she began. But Cyan’s sorrow was loud enough to shake White loose from the grip of desire. With a heavy heart, she turned back around and into the room where Cyan remained.

“I found the carrot,” she said.

“What?” Cyan looked up, blinking away the tears so she could see White.

“It’s right down the next hallway. There’s a right turn we missed.”

“Well…aren’t you going go for it?”

“If I do that,” White paused. She wasn’t sure she wanted to ask this question. “What happens to you? You seem to understand how this place works.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah.”

The two remained silent for a long while.

“Go for it,” Cyan said.

White was startled and took a step back.

“What?”

“You heard me. Go for it.”

“If I do that, then you’ll-”

“I know what’ll happen to me. But you have so much more to live for. You said it yourself. I’m getting in your way. Go, win some races. Just promise you won’t forget me.”

“Cy…” White walked up to her friend and cupped a hand to her cheek.

“Please. Don’t argue. For once in my life, I’m standing up for myself, I’d like it to work this time.”

White clenched her jaw and looked off to the hallway. Slowly she walked down towards it. This was no longer a race, there was no need for speed. There was time to do one last thing. With a sprint, White rushed back towards Cyan and wrapped her arms around her neck.

“Let me say I’m sorry, for all things I said. For all the tears I made you shed. Let me do it the only way I know how.”

Cyan inhaled and wordlessly nodded. She lowered her face to White’s and closed her eyes. Slowly, gently, they brought their lips together. Here, they had all the time in the world. No other horses around. No clock to beat. Nothing to distract from the feeling of warmth, joy, sorrow, and regret intermingling as two souls became one.

They could have stayed like that forever, but all good things must end. Cyan was the first to pull away. She walked backwards, slowly slipping loose of White’s arms.

“I’m going to go into the very last room,” she said. “I don’t want you to see me when you go for the carrots. I’m not going to hold you back anymore.”

“Cy!” White called out. Now it was her turn to let the tears flow. “I don’t want to leave you!”

“I know,” she said with a bittersweet smile. “And that’s why you have to.”

Cyan trotted off, leaving White behind. With the slowest pace White had ever used on a track, she stumbled down the hallway. She ran her hand against the wall as she rounded the corner to follow the orange light. Anything to keep herself from falling. She was right, the carrots were here all along, dangling in mid-air in this room. They were repulsive things. No better than a murder weapon. If she so much as touched them, that would be the end of it. And yet, that’s what she had to do. There was no other option.

Victory had never felt so rotten.

Chapter Text

“AND THE WINNER IS – RESOLUTE MIND AFTERNOON!”

“Do you hear that, losers!? This is just the start! Watchout Jovial Merryment, the new ABSOLUTE CHAMPION has arrived!”

The horse formerly known as Red looked stood tall and proud on the podium, hands on her hips and a carrot held between her beaming teeth. But out of the other horses gathered around, only Pink seemed to care. She was jumping up and down, clapping in excitement. Door Knob stood behind with a hand on her shoulder, but her eyes were only focused on Pink. Downtown Skybox stood off to the side, bent over and panting with an unbuttoned vest, trying to cool down. And of course, there was the trio of Yellow, Jovial Merryment, and Bullet’n Board standing together and exchanging smoldering glances between themselves.

Red furrowed her brow and cocked her head to the side. Her hands dropped down, suddenly deflated. Hey what gives? What happened out there?

Two days ago

Red paced back and forth in her stall as Pink sat on the bed and watched intently.

“That first race doesn’t count,” Red said, more to herself than to Pink. “Jovial and Yellow collaborated, so it wasn’t a fair race.”

“Right,” Pink said.

“And today, well that was a fluke. Who knew Grey, sorry, Downtown Skybox could move like that? Where did she even learn that?’

“Right.”

“Well today is going to be different, mark my words, Pink!”

“Right.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll show them why we got selected as the new recruits. Getting to the top of the last league was easy enough. We’ll do it again. Me first, then you second.”

“Right.”

“Well, I should get some rest. I don’t know about you but I’m so fucking sore. Have a good night, Pink. Always great to have your support.”

Pink stood up and slipped her hoodie on over her sweater. Red ruffled her hair as she passed by and left the door. It was nice being friends with someone, especially when they didn’t expect you to say much. She also told Pink what she should do, and it was usually for her benefit. It was nice to let someone else take the reins. As she gently closed the door, careful not to make too much noise, a voice called out from behind.

“There you are,” Door Knob said.

“Eeep!” Pink said with a jump. “Oh uh h-h-hi there Ms. Door Knob. I don’t w-w-want to give you any trouble. Sorry about earlier.”

Door Knob nodded her head towards the door that led outside the hallway and into the yard. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Uhm, uh,” Pink looked around, trying to find some excuse to slip away. Where was Red where she needed her? With no way out, she just drew her hoodie tighter over herself and followed.

“You don’t have to apologize, you know.”

“Sorry, I do that too much.”

“Hmph,” Door Knob opened the door for Pink, then followed on out after. As they walked out, Door Knob took out a long string of hay and began to idly chew on it. “You’re pretty strong, you know.”

“Oh! Uh…I’m not that strong. I just workout a little bit.”

“I’m not weak. That means you’re strong. Just a fact.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“The last racetrack that Red and I were at. It was pretty uhm, pretty rough.”

“Makes sense. I could smell it on Red.”

“S-s-smell it?”

“Her personality. Is that why you listen to everything she tells you to do?”

“She’s my friend.”

“A real friend wouldn’t make you fight her battles.”

“I uhm…right.”

“You’re fast too.”

“Not as fast as you or Bullet’n Board or Jovial Merryment or Downtown Skybox.”

“Winning and speed are not the same. I’m fast. Merry’s fast. Bullet’s smart, and Sky’s agile. They’re different things.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Door Knob sighed and shoved her hands in the pockets of her leather fur jacket.

“That’s your problem.”

“W-w-what?” Pink’s eyes widened and she started trembling. First Door Knob complimented her, now she said she was a problem? It was so confusing. She just wanted to slip away and disappear. This was too much attention, too much analysis.

“You need a spine. You’re strong, you’re fast. You should be dominating these races.”

“S-s-s-s-”

“Don’t say it.”

Pink shut her mouth and chewed on her cheek.

“Here’s the deal,” Door Knob said. “I’m going to train you to be less scared. You’re going to go along with it. You’ll race for yourself, not for Red. You’ll shove the other racers aside when you need to, and keep running straight forwards, even if there’s conflict. Got it?”

“C-c-can I say no?”

“Not an option.”

“Right.”

“So Door Knob's got this theory,” Jovial Merryment said as she did side lunges at the starting line of the practice track. “That I'm fast, but you two are smart and nimble.”

She pointed at Bullet'n and Skybox respectively. Skybox was stretching as well, doing high steps, but Bullet'n stood off to the side of the track. She looked at Merry skeptically with crossed arms.

“What does it matter?” Bullet'n said. “Do you really need to prove you're the fastest?”

“Yeah, I do,” Merry said quietly. “Because then we can put the whole cheating debate to rest. If Door Knob's right, then I got a fast time because I'm just a fast racer and nobody challenged me in that race.”

“Sure, then you can complain even more about us stopping you last race.”

“I'd like to see if Door Knob's right,” Skybox interjected. “I'm curious.”

Bullet'n pursed her lips and looked around hesitantly. If Skybox wasn't here, it'd be easy to shrug off Merry. But this would be good practice for Sky, and she couldn't let her slip back into complacency after just one win.

“Fine,” Bullet'n grumbled as she took her place at the starting line. “Let's race.”

Merry flashed and easy smile and gave a thumbs up. “That's the spirit.”

The three horses finished stretching and took their starting places.

“Alright, we'll do three laps,” Merry said. “No shoving and no cutting off. Just stick to your lane. Alright, ready? 3…2…1…go!”

They darted off, each going as fast as they possibly could. Skybox kept pace with the other two, but she wasn't in sync the way Bullet'n and Merry were. Those two kept the same exact pace, neck to neck. Each hoofbeat perfectly matched. It was like the entire world faded away and nothing else mattered. Not yesterday's race nor tomorrow's. Not Sky, Door Knob, Yellow or any other horse.

Bullet'n dared a quick look to see Merry's expression. She was smiling. Back to her normal, jovial self. This was why her fans loved her, being at the top and having a blast doing it. Merry glanced over too, and giggled as she saw Bullet'n's expression.

“See, you're enjoying yourself, huh?”

Bullet'n realized she was smiling too. How did she not notice? Merry was right. All Bullet'n had put her through, just to dampen that smile. Sabotaging her race, gloating when their scores were tied, and that one awful thing that left a festering hole in Bullet'n's heart. All this time, they could've been racing together like they were now. Merry, Bullet'n, and Sky of course. She was right there with them, and she too was just having fun. That sweet horse full of doubt, who just wanted to win. And Bullet'n used her as a tool to make Merry doubt herself. That damned orange horse had driven her into a dangerous obsession, and along the way Bullet'n had lost herself. Was it too late to find her way back?

After three laps, the race ended. Merry came in first. Bullet'n was next, having paced herself better than Sky, who had tired herself out in the second half. Door Knob was right, which didn't surprise any of them. She was always very observant. Even if she didn't get involved much, she always took notice. As they exited the track, Yellow trotted up to meet them. Or rather specifically, Bullet'n.

“Got a minute?” Yellow asked her.

“I suppose so,” Bullet'n said with a shrug.

Yellow waved for Bullet'n to follow her and walked off away from the track to the side of the nearby stables. She leaned one shoulder against the wall and crossed her arms. Bullet'n took up a similar position, facing Yellow with a shoulder against the wall and the opposite hand resting on her hip.

“What you did was just plain wrong,” Yellow said. “You talk this big game about how important is we follow all the rules, and then you stop Merry from competing completely.”

“I know,” Bullet'n sighed. “I shouldn't have done that.”

“Oh you know? Then why did you do it?”

“I didn't realize at the time. Look. It was a mistake. I'm going to try and do better.”

“Hah. Better? Not sabotaging others is the bare minimum, Bullet'n.”

“What do you want me to do? Apologize?”

“It'd be a good start.”

“Then I'm sorry. Truly, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sabotaged her. I shouldn't have been gloating earlier either, and I never should've said that she was doping.”

“That was you?” Yellow's jaw dropped. Then shock turned to anger. “You started that rumor! Do you know all the damage you caused? All the stress and worry you caused her, all the people out there that lost their respect?”

“I know,” Bullet’n started.

“No, I don't want to hear it. Whatever excuse you're going to make, keep it to yourself. This is beyond some scuffle at the starting gates. You're so screwed up, Bullet'n. I'll see you at the races.”

“Hey, wait!” She called out, but Yellow kept walking off.

“I really am sorry,” Bullet'n quietly said to herself.

“6…5…4…”

This was the most uncomfortable start Bullet’n had ever experienced. She could feel the intense stare Yellow was giving her, even if she couldn't see it. It was deserved. Much so. But she wanted to focus on the race, not that drama. If it got out that Bullet'n started the rumor it could be her last race, and she wanted to spend it putting what Merry had taught her into practice. Unfortunately it was hard to have fun when someone was giving you a death stare, especially when it was for a good reason.

“3…2…1…”

Whatever, Bullet’n thought. I’ll just race the way I normally do.

The horses began to canter off, and though it was a tight fit trying to get past Door Knob and Skybox, she was able to squeeze her way out through the starting gate. The next hallway was dead ahead, and soon she would be able to just concentrate on the race and leave the rest behind. But someone yanked back on the collar of her jacket, and she was sent flying to the ground. Bullet’n jerked her head back to see who was at fault, and found Yellow standing over her, face smoldering.

I guess I should’ve expected this .

Bullet’n scrambled to her feet and dusted herself off, only for Yellow to charge forward and slam into her.

“Didn’t realize you packed such a punch,” Bullet’n coughed out. Yellow refused to reply, just standing there silently.

But then the most unexpected horse came to help. Pushing her way between the two of them, Jovial Merryment stood with arms outstretched, staring down Yellow.

“What has gotten into you?” Merry asked in a mix of confusion and annoyance. “Let her race, she’s fine.”

“You don’t know what she’s done,” Yellow spat out. “She’s the one who started the rumors.”

Merry’s face went pale, and she turned in horror to face Bullet’n. The blue horse held her head low in shame, refusing to face her accuser.

“Is this true?” Merry asked, her voice distant and heartbroken. “Why would you do that?”

“I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t able to keep up with you,” Bullet’n muttered. “I’m sorry. I’m so terribly sorry.”

Merry slowly approached, reaching her hand out to Bullet’n, but Yellow intervened with an elbow straight to Bullet’n’s gut. Bullet’n collapsed down to her hands and knees. At that moment, Merry forgot about the past entirely. The love she had for Yellow. The wrongs Bullet’n had committed. All she saw was one horse hitting another while she was down. Merry surged forward and shoved Yellow out of the way, pushing her into the wall.

“Ow!” Yellow screamed out as her back collided with the painted wood.

The shout of her beloved Yellow in pain shook Merry to her core. What had she done?

“Yellow, I- I didn’t mean to,” Merry said. “I would never.”

Yellow looked up, her eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. Tears started to form, and all Merry wanted to do was wrap her in a warm embrace and issue apologies until the end of time.

But Bullet’n got in the way, taking the chance to strike Yellow back, slapping her straight across the face with the base of her palm.

Merry lunged and grabbed a hold of Bullet’n’s tie. She yanked the blue horse back and reared up a hand, preparing to hit her in return.

“Don’t you dare lay a finger on her,” she said.

“I don’t need your protection!” Yellow yelled out as she brushed the back of her hand across her face, wiping away the nosebleed that Bullet’n caused. “Just let her go. She’s been held back enough. We’re even.”

Merry looked between Bullet’n and Yellow, her brows knit together in confusion. She wanted to sit down with both of them, work everything out until everyone was happy. But this was not the time nor the place. Merry released Bullet’n’s tie and stepped back. Yellow dashed out of the starting gate, not looking back at either horse. Bullet’n readjusted her tie and coughed.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Merry asked.

Bullet’n didn’t respond. She just continued off, following Yellow down the track. Merry stood still, lost in a moment of self-pity. They would have to sort all of this out later. But for now, the only thing left to do was to race. So off she ran, trying desperately to catch up to Yellow.

Further down the track, Yellow was now halfway between the start and finish, but she was far from the only one. Red was the first horse there, and was now caught playing defensively to stop Yellow, Skybox, and even Pink from moving forwards.

“What the hell are you doing, Pink!” Red shouted out. “You’re supposed to let me win!”

“D-D-D-Door Knob said I have to r-r-r-race for myself!” Pink replied as she grabbed Red by the wrist and spun her around. The two had been fighting long before Sky and Yellow got here. The two other horses were caught off-guard and stayed back as much as they could, letting Pink and Red sort it out.

Unfortunately, as much as Door Knob had instilled in her about confidence and using her strengths to her advantage, she did little to instill any sort of tactical thinking. As Pink spun Red away and sent her flying down the hallway towards the carrots, she also stumbled back, further towards the starting gates.

“W-w-what? How did that happen?”

Pink collided back with Sky, and the two became lost in the middle of the track. Out of the bumbling confusion, Merry rushed forward. She wasn’t trying to get to the carrots, there was a different goal in her mind. She ran up beside Yellow and matched her pace. Screw waiting to sort things out later, she had to address things now.

“Yellow, please,” Merry said. “Listen to me. I didn’t want to hurt you. I would never.”

“Shove it, Merry,” Yellow said in a tone foreign to Merry’s ears. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Yellow and Merry were in second and third place, so close to reaching the carrots, but they began to bicker and argue. Merry tried and failed to explain what happened with Bullet’n. Yellow refused to forgive her for starting the rumors, but wanted to move on. Merry didn’t let it go. They were so caught up in their conversation, that their pace slowed and they lost sight of the finish.

Red was left at the end, trotting around near the carrots. She could seize them right now and win, but where was the audience? Where was that dramatic nail-biting finish that would send the crowd wild? Obviously she would be the winner, but she honestly didn’t expect it to be by this much. Well that’s enough time to wait, let’s end this show .

She ran forwards and seized the carrots in one hand, then held them high above her head.

“AND THE WINNER IS – RESOLUTE MIND AFTERNOON!”

“Do you hear that, losers!? This is just the start! Watchout Jovial Merryment, the new ABSOLUTE CHAMPION has arrived!”

Chapter Text

Sunlight. Fresh air. Clean clothes. Carrots to eat and water to drink. There was so much to savor, but it all felt empty. The sunlight was cold, the air stale, the clothes dull, and the carrots bitter. When Cyan was around, all Superstitional Realism wanted to do was stop being distracted by her. To focus on the races and achieve victory, even after nothing but loses. But now that she was gone, that didn’t seem like an option anymore. She had a name, but what was it worth?

“Don’t you want your name to be known?” She had asked Cyan back at the starting gates. Cyan said she just wanted to be content to race, and Superstitional had mocked her for it. She had mocked that poor girl, then left her to die. One simple kiss was not enough to make up for it. A century of apologies and made up time couldn’t undo her cruelty. What was done was done, and Superstitional Realism had the name she always wanted.

That name felt wrong without Cyan here. Yes, she wanted her name to be known. But did she really want it to be known by anyone but her? Who else could she share it with? She had no other friends. It was her own choice, to give up on relationships in the vain hope that it might lead to victory. Eventually, it did, she supposed.

Maybe I could try being content, she thought. For Cy’s sake.

“Are you gonna come over or what?” The red horse called out from the picnic table. Grey, now Downtown Skybox, sat there as well. Superstitional had been invited to join them for lunch, as part of what they called a ‘New Names Club’. She was reluctant to come, especially with Resolute there. It made her feel sick that in the time she spent in the labyrinth, a newcomer had already arrived and received a name. If Cyan was racing in this red horse’s place, could she have achieved the same thing?

Superstitional walked over and carefully sat herself down at the table. She smoothed out her dress and folded her hands in her lap, then waited patiently for the others to begin. This was a day to be passive. That’s what she imagined being content meant. Passivity. Watching the world go by. If that’s what Cyan craved, then maybe it was worth chasing.

“I’m Resolute Mind Afternoon,” the red horse said with a smile and a mock salute. Her tone carried far too much pride for such a mouthful of a name. “But you can call me Resolute. Since you’ve been gone, I’ve kinda become the rising star here.”

Superstitional looked over to Sky with a raised eyebrow.

“She did beat Jovial Merryment in the last race,” Sky said. “But Merry was also a little preoccupied. Oh, also Merry is the champion again. She also got a 32 second time.”

“Bah!” Resolute waved her hand dismissively. “I’ll beat that in no time. Just you wait.”

“Maybe you should consider asking Bullet’n to help you train,” Sky said. “She’s Merry’s closest competition, and a really good teacher.”

Merry breaking new records wasn’t too surprising. Especially if those rumors about her substance abuse were true. Though for some reason she hadn’t heard those spread around as much since she got back. What actually surprised Superstitional was Skybox’s new attitude. Training? With Bullet’n? Last she had seen her, she was firmly in Merry’s camp and seemed allergic to self-improvement. But Superstitional knew better than anyone that a lot can change in just a week.

Superstitional drifted off, thinking about all that was different now as Resolute began bickering with Sky. Or perhaps bickering at was more accurate. It was hard to get invested in the conversation, or anything else for that matter. With a name secured she had nothing left to fight for. Without Cyan by her side she had nothing to slow down for. She desperately hoped beyond all else that Cyan was wrong, that there was another way out. But Cyan was always smart.

If all that was left to do was accept that she was gone, why couldn’t she bring herself to do so? Whenever she learned some news about what happened when they were gone, she filed it away in mind as something to tell Cyan about that evening. Even as she half-listened to Sky talk about training plans, she found herself thinking of what she could take from that to use in their joint training.

Her eyes began to well up. They can’t see me like this, Superstitional thought. I’m a winner. I’m one of them now. And winners don’t cry for those left behind . She stood up and turned away from the picnic table, leaving with no explanations or goodbyes. It was better that way. Otherwise they might catch on to the pain in her voice and the redness of her eyes.

“Hold on,” Sky called out. “What do we call you now?”

Superstitional Realism. What a rotten name. If she had received it under any other circumstances, she would love it. The juxtaposition of the two adjectives. The way the syllables flowed. The fanciful nature of it. But the name was bloodstained and foul.

“Just call me White,” she said without turning back around. “It’s easy to say.”

“I can’t believe you’re the only one willing to talk to me,” Bullet’n said with a long sigh. Her arms dangled over the side of the balcony overlooking the race track. Usually this would be the seat of the highest bidders, but on a day like today with no races it was devoid of all signs of life.

“Yeah, well, seemed like you needed someone to talk with,” Jovial Merryment said. She faced the opposite direction of Bullet’n, leaning her back against the balcony with elbows propped up on the railing.

“Maybe if everyone saw you giving me a chance, they’d give me one too.”

“Could be. Or maybe they’re just as much sticklers for the rules as you claimed to be.”

“Whatever,” Bullet’n sighed. “I guess if they want to hate me it’s a fair exchange. I started the rumors, I should pay for them.”

“Ehhh, fairness is overrated. I’d rather we go back to the way it was. When we were all friends, just having fun out there. Now it feels like there’s so much weight behind every race.”

“Suffering from success?”

“It’s a silly thing to complain about, but yeah. If I win then I’m cheating. If I lose I don’t care anymore or there’s something wrong with me. A real Catch-22.”

“I didn’t know you read Heller.”

“Who?”

“Nevermind. You know, some people are calling you washed up.”

“Let them. I could beat any one of them in a race, anytime.”

“Are you going to prove them wrong then, or continue to take it easy?”

“You think I took it easy those past two races?”

“Didn’t you?”

“No!” Merry balked and defensively put her hand to her chest. “First, you ganged up on me. Then, there was that fight with Yellow.”

“The Jovial Merryment I knew, the one who really wanted to both race and win, would’ve found a way to get to the carrots regardless. Admit it, you got the 32 second race to buy yourself some time to rest, and when the races went wrong, you treated them as unsalvageable.”

“Fine, whatever.”

“Speaking of Yellow…”

“Hey, just because I’ve decided to talk to you doesn’t mean we’re close enough for that kind of talk.”

“Got anyone else? Not like you can talk about it with her.”

Merry grumbled and hopped up onto the balcony, taking a seat on the railing with her back towards the track.

“I hate it when you’re right,” she said. “Ask away.”

“Are you speaking to each other?”

“Not since the race.”

“What did you talk about in that last stretch?”

“Nothing I want to repeat to you. But basically she thinks I view her as the inferior half of our…partnership.”

“Partnership?” Bullet’n asked with a chuckle.

“Relationship,” Merry rolled her eyes. “Anyways, she was actually more upset at me being so devastated after shoving her. I mean, she was mad about me shoving her too, but she said she could forgive that if I didn’t also act like she was made of glass. It’s just…she’s so sweet and gentle, y’know? I never think of her as someone who could get into fights.”

“Isn’t that her issue with you?”

“Well, now you can see why we’re at an impasse.”

“Yeah, I can. We’re quite the pair of screwups, huh?”

Merry laughed and smiled.

“Damn right we are,” she said. “But at least we’re really fast screwups.”

“Oh come on! Not again!” Merry shouted as she quickly jumped out of the way of Resolute’s fist. “Let me get outta the starting gate at least!”

“Not a chance, Jovial,” Resolute said. She moved around, circling Merry and positioning herself in front of the starting gate. “This is my show now.”

Merry tried moving around, but Resolute remained locked onto her. There seemed to be no opening, as Resolute maintained a perfect angle against her. When Merry moved clockwise, she moved counter-clockwise. When Merry moved back, she moved forwards. The fact that Skybox was able to slip out of their entanglement without being challenged was proof that this was personal. Other horses wanting to tear you down just came with the territory of being the best.

“Look,” Resolute said, clearly annoyed at how long it was taking them. “You clearly don’t want to race anymore. Why don’t you just step aside and let someone else take your place? Just rest here like you did the last two races. Clearly you don’t want to be champion anymore.”

For a moment, Merry considered the offer. It was rather tempting to just let it all go. No more accusations of unjust collaboration and drug abuse. No more being ganged up on at the starting gate. She could just live in peace. She tried to prove to everyone you could have fun and win at the same time, and what did that accomplish? Nothing. This sport was as serious as ever. It wasn’t built for someone like Merry. Resolute was right, it was time to let the title pass on to someone else.

“When are you going to admit it,” Resolute said, mockery dripping from her voice. “You’re all. Washed. Up.”

“Screw it,” Merry said under her breath. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

Merry leaned down and touched the tips of her fingers to the ground. With all the force she could conjure, she pushed off with one leg and moved right to the other. Her feet were off the ground more than they were on it. Her trot became a canter became a gallop in less than five seconds. Yellow wouldn’t help her. She was cleared of the drug use allegations. There was nothing stopping her from being seen as the champion she truly was.

A win on every track. An overall score of 0.5. Twice the amount of victories as Bullet’n Board. The only horse to finish a race in under one minute.

The myth. The legend. The greatest racehorse of all time. 

Jovial Merryment.

Resolute immediately fell behind, not even allowed the opportunity to catch up and race alongside her. Down the first hallway with no obstacles. A sharp right turn. Door Knob stood in the way and sent her backwards with a swift shove, but Merry easily rolled with the punches. She moved with the force of the blow, softening it, and immediately charged back. No time for fights, she spun and avoided Door Knob’s next attack. The way down was clear, no other horses in the way. She kicked up the pace another notch. As fast as she could manage, with no fear of crashing.

All the other horses were given headstarts, she was over a minute behind, but here she was out ahead. Racing towards the end. She loved racing alongside others, but a clear track to speed down with the wind flowing through her hair and tail was unlike any other feeling.

How fast can I go? Let’s find out .

Faster. Faster. Faster.

Then the one horse that could possibly stop her stepped around from the corner. Golden blonde hair, a blue bowtie, and the sweetest smile on the planet. Their eyes connected for a brief moment as Jovial dashed by. She was so far ahead, a quick detour couldn’t hurt.  Merry turned and skidded to a stop beside her.

“Having fun?” Yellow asked in a shockingly icy tone.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” Yellow leaned in and gave Merry a peck on the cheek. “Then don’t slow down, silly.”

Merry beamed and gave an enthusiastic thumbs up to Yellow. There was no time to waste on a reply. She immediately went back into her gallop. She sprinted down and around the corner, up into the final arena, and leapt for the carrot with all her might. No one was around to challenge her, but what did that matter? A true champion leaves no room for doubt.

Chapter Text

“Good work out there,” Door Knob said as she walked up beside Pink. The two were headed back to the stables after the race today. Neither had won, but both put in a decent showing. As far as Door Knob was concerned, that’s all that mattered.

“Oh! H-h-hello,” Pink said with a slight jump. “T-t-thank you for helping me out there. Your directions were, uhhh, super helpful. Really! But I don’t think I did too good.”

“Sure you did,” Knob said with a shrug. “Only one horse can be a winner. More than one horse can perform well. You got through the fights with confidence, squeezed past the competition, and made it far down the tracks. Plus, it looks like you’re getting to be a little famous.”

“I am!?” she asked with a look of horror.

“Hmm. Do you not want to be?”

“N-n-not really.”

“Most horses do. What’s your goal when you race?”

“I don’t think I have one,” Pink came to a stop and looked down at her feet. “I guess I’ll just follow your lead. You can tell me what to do.”

Door Knob stopped and searched around, scanning the area for any sign of that red horse that made Pink feel this way. If she could only get her hands on Resolute. She sighed and gave up looking. Just as well to let it go. It wasn't her place to interfere.

“Listen,” Door Knob said, placing her hands on her hips and looking down at Pink. “Nobody should tell you what to do. You make your own choices, y’hear?”

Pink slowly nodded her head up and down.

“Let me tell you something none of the others will admit to you. This,” she waved her hands around, motioning to the stables, the track, the training facilities. “It’s only work. We clock in at the starting gates, do our job, and get paid. That’s it. Whatever else you want to give to it or take from it, that’s up to you.”

“Is that why you don’t try to win?”

“Huh?”

“You’re so strong, I figured you could win if you really wanted to.”

“Maybe if I pushed myself. Put in all my blood, sweat, and tears. But I decided that’s more than I’m willing to give to a job.”

“That’s a shame, I’d love to see you at your peak performance.”

“Hrmm,” Door Knob mused to herself. If anyone else asked her, she would just shrug it off. But maybe this is what Pink needed. Someone to show her how to treat the races, without telling her what to do.

“Please?” Pink looked up with pleading eyes.

“Alright Shrimp,” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You got yourself a deal.”

“Are you sure I’m the one you should be celebrating with?”

Bullet’n Board popped open a bottle of beer and passed it over to Jovial Merryment. She sat on the floor of Merry’s room, one arm propping herself up with the other resting on a raised knee. Merry sat cross-legged on her bed. All six of her medals dangled from her neck. Beside her lay her cropped orange jacket and running shoes.

“She still doesn’t want to see me,” Merry shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the situation.

“I thought you two had patched things up?” Bullet’n opened up a second bottle and knocked it back for several gulps. “What was with that kiss on the track?”

“I’m not sure, maybe a sign that she’s still interested?”

“Could be,” Bullet’n shrugged. “Have you apologized yet?”

“Not yet,” Merry looked away and took a swig of the beer. “Waiting for the right time.”

“So suddenly, Ms. Speed is looking to take things slow.”

“Hey, I think I raced fast enough today. Did you see me out there? I don’t think I ever felt so in the zone.”

“I really hate to admit it, but it was damn impressive,” Bullet’n gave a wry smile and leaned towards the bed. “Almost as if a horse couldn’t do that without some sorta boost.”

Merry reached behind her and chucked a pillow at Bullet’n, causing her to spill some of the beer on her jacket.

“Hey!” Bullet’n looked down at the wet clothes. “Do you know how much this costs?”

“Not enough that I can’t buy a new one with all these earnings,” Jovial said with a grin. “Feels good to be on top.”

“Ugh,” Bullet’n set down the now-empty bottle and held her arms up, inspecting the damage. “This is so gross.”

Merry shuffled out of the bed and headed over to the bathroom. She emerged with a small white towel and knelt down beside Bullet’n. She patted off the beer, starting at her stomach, slowly dabbing it up with care. Bullet’n peered down at her, noticing that smile still stuck on her face. Even cleaning up a spilled mess and away from Yellow, here she was happy. Did winning really help that much? Was that why she acted the way she did, because at the top, there was no room to complain? Merry continued to work up her torso, up and up, until she reached Bullet’n’s neck and stared into her eyes.

“We should probably get you out of that and into something dry,” she said softly. “I’ve got some spare clothes you can wear.”

So this is why Yellow fell for her. She was obviously cute with that short stature and adorable face, a helluva runner, and beneath all that arrogance, she had a kind soul. Wasn’t it Merry who reminded her a few days ago how much fun it is to run? Merry was watching Bullet’n, and could clearly see the emotions running behind her eyes. The orange horse closed her eyes and leaned in with her lips puckered. They inched closer and closer.

Is she really trying to make out with me? Bullet’n thought. And so soon after Yellow kissed her on the track.

Bullet’n stood up and shoved Merry back, just as if they were on the tracks. “No, we’re not doing this.”

“Huh?” Merry’s mouth hung open, stunned and confused. “What do you mean no?”

“Make up your mind,” she said, straightening out her tie and grabbing another bottle of beer to go. “Me or her. I’m the second-best racehorse here, I’m the only one who can properly challenge you. I deserve better than being just an option you’re considering, and Yellow deserves someone who’ll actually care for her.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be like that,” Merry called out as she followed Bullet’n to the door.

Bullet’n waved her hand, dismissing whatever argument Merry was preparing to give her.

“You might be the champion, but you’re still a loser, Jovial. Why don’t you just keep hanging on to that gold for company?”

As the door slammed in Merry’s face, she collapsed onto the bed with a huff. Quickly, she reached down to the gold medals around her neck, took them off, and tossed them on the ground. She’s right, dammit. I am a loser. Yellow deserves better than me. I guess I already knew that, isn't that why I asked Bullet’n to come over in the first place? She’s not going to get hurt by my carelessness. Yellow, she’s so gentle, she’s-

“Oh,” Merry threw her head back and groaned. “Right, that’s my problem, isn’t it?”

Door Knob leaned forwards and put a hand on Pink’s shoulder. They were all staring out the starting gates, waiting for the signal. This was always the worst part of the race, the anticipation.

“When I get out there,” Door Knob whispered. “Follow my lead until we get to the first corner. Then you’re on your own, you have to make your own choices.”

Pink turned and looked at Door Knob with a panic stricken face.

“Hey, you got this, Shrimp.”

“Place your bets,” the announcer called out.

Further back, Merry stretched out, standing idly without entering the crouched starting position everyone else took. Bullet’n looked up with confusion.

“What are you doing Jovial,” she harshly whispered as the countdown continued. “We’re starting!”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Merry replied with that annoyingly confident grin. “I’ll still win. Just gotta take care of some business first.”

Bullet’n gritted her teeth and shook her head. The arrogance of this girl. How could this be their greatest racehorse? Didn’t she recognize that none of this was a guarantee?

“You’re going to lose,” she muttered. “You can’t just waste time at the beginning and hope to win.”

“Sorry, love to chat,” Merry said as the countdown entered the final three seconds. “But you’ve got a race to run.”

The horses all dashed off ahead, and pulling far in the lead was Pink. Quickly Door Knob caught up. She offered no verbal instructions, preferring to keep her breath well managed. She told Pink that she would win this one, and she intended to keep that promise. This track was an easy one to get to the first corner of, at least, and Pink had been listening well in their training sessions. All Door Knob needed to do was keep her from losing the mental game. Anytime Pink would glance back at Skybox and Bullet’n catching up behind them, Door Knob whistled and pointed forwards with two fingers. A signal to focus back on the race.

Back at the starting gates, Yellow tried to take off, and Merry tried to catch up to stop her. In the middle, Resolute Mind Afternoon tried to dodge out of the way. As she stepped back, she ran into Yellow, causing the horse to stumble back. Merry followed, trying to catch up, but Yellow recovered and tried to get out of the gates. Resolute and Merry continued to dance around each other. There was some aspect of trying to block each other from racing, but mostly they were just lost in the thick cloud of dust the trio had kicked up. After a half-minute of confusion, Merry and Resolute found their way out, with Yellow coming up behind. But as soon as she stepped past the starting gate, a hand grabbed her shoulder and kept her in place.

“Hey!” Yellow called out and turned on her heel. “What are you doing?”

“We need to talk,” Merry said, standing still.

“Obviously,” Yellow rolled her eyes. “But here? Now?”

“You can handle being delayed a few seconds,” Merry said with a smile. “I bet everyone else is jammed up at the corner anyways. I’ll make it quick. You don’t need me. I need you. Every major win I’ve had, you were there supporting me, cheering me on. I’ll trust you to handle yourself, will you trust me to do the same?”

Yellow looked down the track and back at Merry in bewilderment.

“Merry…” she said, trailing off as she got into a crouching position. “You have to work on your timing. Please, just race.”

Merry smiled and nodded. If that’s what she wanted, then that’s what she would get. Merry ran off, dashing into the chaotic mess ahead of her. It seemed like Bullet’n and Door Knob had found their way around this corner, but Skybox, Resolute, and Pink struggled as they pushed and shoved and dodged and weaved. This was not a good place for a conversation. Merry ran around them, down into the hallway a bit, and back up to the circular room in the middle of the track. She posted herself up in the doorway and waited for Yellow to come by.

“Come on in here!” Merry called out to her as Yellow joined the rest of the herd.

“What?”

“I listened to you and ran, now you listen to me.”

Yellow looked around, reluctant to go along with Merry’s insanity, but she knew avoiding it would only make her act even more idiotically. She shook her head and slipped in. Once inside, she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

“Right, where was I?” Merry asked. “Oh yeah. You can take care of yourself, you’re your own person. But that also means I can’t be dragging you down. I’m an arrogant fool, and I’ve cost you your name. I love you and I don’t want to lose you. But to make this work, we have to be equals, on and off the track. Can we do that?”

Yellow’s icy facade towards Merry finally broke down. She pushed herself off from the wall and moved towards Merry, wrapping her hands around Merry’s hips.

“Yes, we can. But there’s one small issue.”

Merry furrowed her eyebrows as anxiety set in. Yellow leaned in and whispered as gently as she could into her ear.

“We’re only equals on the track if your wins count as mine.”

Yellow pulled back, and before Merry had a chance to respond, Yellow pulled her in by the waist and plunged her face into Merry’s. For a brief second, the clopping of hooves and echoing of shouts from horses and spectators alike faded away. It was just Merry and Yellow, wo souls combined. Then, Yellow shoved Merry away, pushing her out of the chamber.

“Now go!” Yellow said. “You’ve wasted too much time doing this.”

“Nah,” Jovial said with an all-too-confident grin. “I’ve still got time.”

She rushed back into the chamber and took Yellow in her arms. Despite Yellow standing several inches taller, Merry grabbed behind the small of her back and bent her down, kissing her all along the way. Yellow clutched onto Merry’s shoulders, pulling herself deeper and deeper into the embrace. The pair had never had a physical engagement as electrifying as this one. Their heartbeats soared, and lips touching became tongues intertwined. Merry only let Yellow go to gasp for air.

Resolute trotted past the opening of the chamber and came to a sudden stop as she stared at the events unfolding within.

“Sky, Bullet’n!” she shouted out across the track. “Can you believe what they’re doing in there!?”

“I can and I don’t care,” Bullet’n lied on both counts. “Now get back in the race or you’re going to let Merry get away with it!”

“Satisfied?” Yellow asked, panting along with Merry.

“Nope! But I’ll get the rest after I go grab us some carrots for dinner.”

With nothing left to add, Merry dashed out of the chamber. Upon seeing Resolute staring, slack-jawed, Merry winked and stuck out her tongue. She could only briefly see the rage that took over Resolute’s face and made her face flush red. Merry continued and rushed down the hallway, clearing a path through the other horses who struggled to find their direction or were busy getting jostled around by the others. The only two who didn’t seem caught up in the jumble were Bullet’n and Door Knob, but Bullet’n was only a little bit further down the hallway.

“Thanks for calling me a loser,” Merry said to Bullet’n as she passed by. “Really gave me the boost I needed to win this one.”

Before she could supply a response, Merry continued to plow ahead. Door Knob was far in the lead, almost around the final bend to secure the carrots. Merry kicked her pace up a notch and focused in. There no was no reason to taunt Door Knob. To try and shake her mentally or emotionally would be an exercise in futility. All Merry could do was try to outpace or outmaneuver, and with the way Knob was moving this race, both seemed unlikely.

This one time, Door Knob thought to herself. This one time, I will push myself beyond what I am capable of. The body is a machine. The brain seeks to minimize strain on the body. Turn off the brain, let the body do the work it is capable of. No limitations. I’ll do it for her. Door Knob rounded the last corner, and zeroed in on the carrots. They were right there. For the first time in a while, she would feel victory. This sensation was better than she remembered. Maybe she would try to win more often. Her hand reached out, ready to grasp the carrots as she ran past, but the dirt underneath was loose, and she slid just a couple of inches away from being able to touch them.

As Door Knob took up a position to recover, Jovial Merryment rushed in. She cut off Door Knob’s recovery, forcing her to take an alternative route. As Door Knob tried once more to correct and run past Merry, the orange horse slammed in with her shoulder and forced her to stumble backwards, outside the arena.

“Sorry about this Knob,” Merry said, rubbing her shoulder from the hit. “You know how it is, that’s just the job.”

All Door Knob could do was stand back and watch, as Jovial Merryment turned on a dime away from her. Merry trotted back to the carrots with glee and deftly seized them by their leaves and, in one motion, hoisted them up in triumph. If there was any horse that was going to beat her today, at least it would be that one. At least Door Knob had put on a good performance.

Chapter Text

Exit the starting gate.

Run.

Grab the carrot.

Repeat.

Exit the starting gate.

Run.

Grab the carrot.

Realize you’ll never get a name.

Repeat.

Exit the starting gate.

Debate finding a way out.

Run.

Grab the carrot.

Realize you’ll never get a name.

Repeat.

Exit the starting gate.

Debate finding a way out.

Run.

Try to remember her face.

Grab the carrot.

Realize you’ll never get a name.

Repeat.

How long have I been here? A day? A week? A year? Normally, there would be one race a day, but there’ve been so many races—too many to count, but certainly more than there are in a year. I can’t survive that long without eating. If only these carrots were real. If only they didn’t slip out of my grasp as soon as I touched them. Then I could eat and I could have some energy. I could keep racing.

But carrots are for winners. And I was not born to be a winner. What is my role in life? To be a filler in a race? There can only be one winner, of course. There have to be losers in life, too. I could live with being a loser, so long as I had friends to race alongside and someone to come back to at night. I remember having someone like that once. Her name escapes me, but her image remains. A horse as pale as snow and just as pure. She was elegant and the pinnacle of beauty. She was a winner. She had a chance to prove herself. Why won’t they give me that opportunity? I can go through all the motions of a race. Exit the starting gate, run to the end, grab the carrots. But that’s not enough to win, because this isn’t a race.

A race alone isn’t a race at all.

Please don’t let me be alone. There must be others, right? Other horses here who could race with me. Just put someone here, anywhere. Someone like me. Then I could have friends, and I could truly compete in a race again. Not this mockery of a race.

Is that what this is? A mockery? It must be. They’re mocking me. I’m the worst racehorse here. Not once have I ever tried one of those carrots. Grain and hay, that’s all there is for me. I ruined the bets. I let down my friends. I let myself down. This is my punishment for never succeeding at anything. I must always be just out of reach of what I want. I must see how close I could’ve gotten, how I could’ve succeeded if I only tried. Surely that must be the only difference between me and that pale horse. The only difference between me and every other horse on the tracks. They tried, and I didn’t.

I wonder if I had fans? Everyone else had fans. They signed autographs, had merchandise, people cheered their names. Those names they earned. But me? I was just some mysterious figure to the audience. They would always ask, “Who’s that Cyan horse? Why doesn’t she do anything?” I can still hear the audience shouting out the names of all the other horses as they raced through the track. Just never mine. I had no name to shout. I was born unknown, I lived unknown, and now I’ll be dead unknown. They say you die twice, but for me that will just be once.

There’s no way anybody would become my fan anyway. I’m just pure garbage, and I’ve been doomed to a garbage existence. Eventually, I might get out of here, unless this is some kind of hell. But on the off-chance that it’s not, I’ll keep chasing that carrot. I’m a racehorse after all, right? I have to race. That's all I can do. Race. Race and lose. I just have to be satisfied with my lot in life, that of the loser horse. Then, maybe, for once in my entire memory, I can be happy.

I had a nightmare about this once. I dreamt that I was running through endless corridors in some sort of labyrinth. A friend was there, I think. Did I ever have friends? Someone once told me that there was no room for friends in a place like this. I guess they were just some random horse. We ran and ran and ran. We tried to get out, but it was hopeless. Not like this place. Here I know where to go, and I just keep going back to the start. In that other place, there was no exit. At least that’s what we thought, until that other horse found the carrots. They left me behind and stabbed me with a knife to the heart. I guess that’s right, I didn’t have any friends with me. If they were truly my friend, they wouldn’t have abandoned me like this.

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Skybox quietly said as she stood in White’s doorway. “Got a minute?”

The pale horse looked Skybox up and down. White looked haggard. She was nothing like her old self, always wearing lacey finery and being one of the most elegant horses on the tracks. Her appearance won her some attention, even when her lack of victories didn’t. But that was all gone. Her hair was loose and unkempt, dark bags hung under her eyes, and all she wore was a simple sports bra and leggings.

“Fine,” she replied with a defeated sigh. “Come on in.”

“How are you doing?” Skybox asked, following White into the room as the door closed behind her. “I wanted to check in on you. We didn’t see you at the tracks today and started getting worried.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I’m not worth caring about.”

“Superstiontional…”

“Please don’t call me that. I told you, just keep calling me White.”

“I just figured you’d want to be called your name after you worked so hard to earn it.”

“I didn’t earn anything,” White quietly said as she stared at the floor. “I took it in cold blood.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cyan…” she drew in a ragged breath. “I abandoned her. I took the carrots knowing it would leave her trapped. And now she’s gone.”

Skybox pursed her lips. So her fears were right. Don’t win enough, and you’ll be sent away, never to be seen again. Part of her felt relieved to have finally gotten her name with Bullet’n’s help, but another part of her felt a gnawing guilt. Yellow had almost won that day too, would she be next?

“It’s not your fault,” Skybox whispered.

“Of course it’s my fault! I didn’t have to take the carrots, you know? I could’ve shown her where they were, but I was selfish. So damn selfish.”

“Did you tell her you found the carrots?”

“Yeah, and she told me that only one of us could get out of there. I knew this would happen, and I still decided to win at any cost.”

“Maybe she’s not gone. That was just a guess on her part, right? And it took you a while to return, didn’t it?”

White lifted up her head and looked to Skybox. Her face was glossy with dried tears, sparkling in the dim light that peeked through the blinds of an otherwise dark room. A small shimmering that was reflected in White’s eyes. Skybox felt slightly relieved, seeing hope return. Was such a simple thing enough to help?

“You’re right,” White said, some confidence returning to her voice. “Maybe she’s not gone. Maybe there’s still a chance.”

“Yeah!” Skybox said with a bit too much enthusiasm. “I mean…we can keep waiting. Let’s not give up hope yet, right?”

“No, no more waiting. If there’s anything I learned in that labyrinth, it’s that if you want something, you have to take it for yourself. I’m going back after her.”

“What?” The tiny bit of relief Skybox had felt evaporated.

“I’m going back to the second stable, I’m finding Cyan, and I’m bringing her back.”

White went to her closet and began rummaging around, pulling out her racing costume. She laid out her dress and accessories and replaced her plain eyepatch with a more decorative one. Skybox panicked and rushed towards her. She placed a hand on White’s shoulder.

“I won’t let you go alone,” she said. “If you’re going to go rescue her, I’m coming with you.”

White stood motionless, frozen from Skybox’s touch.

“No. You can’t help me. I’m going alone.”

“So she’s gone, then?” Bullet’n asked, leaning back against one of the gym’s mirrors.

“I couldn’t stop her,” Skybox said. “That look of determination in her eyes. You know how Merry gets that expression when she really wants something?”

Bullet’n gritted her teeth. “Yeah, I do.”

“It was like that.”

“Dammit.”

Door Knob sauntered up to the pair with her hands tucked into her leather jacket’s pockets.

“Talking about White leaving?” She asked in a surprisingly casual tone.

“How’d you know?” Bullet’n said.

“Overheard a bit of what you were saying. Can’t be good if White’s that worried. I thought she only cared about getting her name.”

“She thinks she betrayed Cyan,” Skybox shrugged. “By leaving her behind.”

“Someone had to win.”

“Doesn’t make it easy to decide who,” Skybox countered.

Door Knob simply shrugged and looked at Bullet'n. “So, how are you getting roped into this?”

“Well, Sky doesn’t want her going on this rescue mission alone. She’s trying to recruit me for it.”

“Please,” Skybox said. “You’re one of the fastest racehorses here! And you too, Door Knob. If anyone can save Cyan, it’d be you two, right?”

“It’s not as simple as being fast,” Bullet’n sighed. “We don’t know what sort of situation she’s in. Speed might not have anything to do with it. She could be locked up somewhere, in the process of being terminated, or simply moved to another stable. We’re making a lot of assumptions. Without White here, we don’t even know where to find her.”

“Then we find out where she is! Why do you want to give up on her?”

“Hey!” Bullet’n snapped. “I don’t want to give up, okay? But I also don’t want to end up in the same situation as them, nor do I want us to waste time floundering about when they’re in danger.”

Skybox glared at Bullet’n. A week ago she would’ve shied away from such an outburst, but she knew Bullet’n better now. She was always thinking ahead, and just because she was serious, it didn’t mean she cared. Still, she didn’t have to yell like that.

“I think I know how to find them,” Door Knob suggested, breaking the tension hanging between the other two.

“You do?” Skybox asked.

“Sure. Remember, I knew about the torture labyrinth.”

“The torture labyrinth?” Bullet’n balked.

“Unimportant,” Door Knob continued. “The worst horses are the ones sent to the second stable. That’s where they’re trained or punished. Probably both. My guess is that if a horse is messing up the bets enough, that’s where they go.”

“Sending in one of our worst racers isn’t going to help,” Bullet’n grumbled.

“Worst in terms of bets doesn’t mean worst in terms of performance. A horse that wins too much messes up the betting as well.”

Skybox’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean…”

“I do.”

“She’s right,” Bullet’n added. “There’s only one horse here who dominates the competition, who’s compassionate enough to risk her life, and who’s fast enough to deal with whatever is thrown her way.”

“Alright then,” Skybox nodded and began to walk off. “I’ll go find her.”

“No,” Bullet’n said, pushing herself off the mirror. “I’ll do it. She won’t respect anyone else telling her to drop the races. And I don’t think I could live with myself if something happened and I wasn’t the one to ask.”

Jovial Merryment, Bullet’n Board, and Yellow sat across from each other at a picnic table. There was no food set out, and even if there was, none of them would be willing to eat it. They stared at each other in silence. Their conversation had entered an uncomfortable lull, and it felt like it could remain that way for an eternity. Three racers, caught between friendship and rivalry, love and hate, words that should’ve been said and words that can never be taken back. Yellow glanced between Bullet’n and Merry, concern and frustration on her face. Merry looked down at her clasped hands resting on the table. Bullet’n stared unblinkingly at Merry, waiting for a response.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” Merry was the first to break the silence. She looked up and mustered a weak smile. “It can’t be too difficult to find Cyan, right?”

“All you have to do is win the next race,” Bullet’n cautiously said.

“A threepeat?” Merry smirked. “Easy work.”

“Merry,” Yellow said, defeated. “You can’t be doing this just to stroke your ego.”

“My ego?” she clenched her jaw. “I thought you, at least, would understand.”

Bullet’n and Merry shared a glance at each other. Yellow may have been Merry’s lover, but it was Bullet’n that truly understood her. Bullet’n knew the taste of being on top. Even there, winning wasn’t all that mattered. She was almost envious of the joy that Merry could feel racing. Ever since that day where Merry proved to her that she could have fun too out on the practice track, all she could think about was how she wanted to be Jovial Merryment. Or at least be in Yellow’s place to be close to such an infectious energy. Maybe she was wrong to have pushed Merry away. Did she throw away her own chance at happiness?

“If this were about ego,” Bullet’n said. “She wouldn’t try to win the next race. She would try to stay in the races longer and not put a target on her back. And I bet you know that, don’t you?”

Yellow slowly nodded her head.

“Then why can’t you agree with me?” Merry pleaded as she reached out to cup Yellow’s hands in her own. “That this needs to be done.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Yellow asked with tears starting to form in her eyes. “I just got you back, I can’t lose you again.”

“I’ll be back,” Merry said quietly. “I promise.”

“Don’t! Don’t do that. I hate it when people make promises they can’t keep. White’s gone and might not come back. There’s no sign of Cyan. What if you’re next?”

“You have to put some more faith in her,” Bullet’n said. “How many times does she have to win to prove herself?”

“You two and your talk of winning! Is that all you ever think about? What about what comes after? When the day comes that you’re done racing, what will you have? Merry, I asked you once about retirement. You said that I could pick what we did. Well, I’m deciding now. One day, when your joints ache and you’ve been champion five times over, we’ll move out to the greenest pastures we can find. We’re going to live together. We’ll have half a dozen foals and colts scurrying around the stables. You’ll train the next generation of racehorses, and I’ll be there by your side, cheering you on as I always have.”

“And what about happiness?” Merry asked.

“You wouldn’t be happy with that?”

“If something happened to White or Cyan, I don’t think I could ever be happy again. They’re our friends. We’ve raced with each other for years. I knew Cyan back when we were both just learning how to gallop. She was the only other horse I raced with back then who truly got it, the joy of wind in your hair and dirt beneath your hooves, going as fast as you can. I’ve seen White push herself to improve after that eye injury more than any other horse around. Everyone thought she could never race again, but she proved them wrong. They deserve to be here as much as anyone else, and I’m not going to let some faceless organizers take them away over something as stupid as bets.”

“Thank you,” Yellow said as she sighed and closed her eyes.

“For what?”

“For reminding me why I love you so much.”

Yellow looked up at Merry with gentle, watery eyes, and as soon as they locked on to Merry, the two threw themselves at each other. They hugged each other as tightly as they could, and neither made any motion to let go. If this were to be their last time together, they would leave no room for regrets. And as Bullet’n sat and watched, she was thankful they were so focused on each other. That way, they couldn’t see the tears falling from her own eyes. Yellow was right; that was the reason Bullet’n loved Merry too.

Chapter Text

“Cyan!” White called out as she entered the starting gate. She gasped and tried to rush towards her, only to find the starting gates blocking her in. Kept apart as always. A horse stood to her left, wavering on her feet and staring off blankly into the distance. White assumed it was Cyan, but she couldn’t be sure. She wore a pallid mask over her face and her hair was muddy and black. Her track clothes were pure ivory, or at least had been before being stained and tattered. If this was Cyan, she looked in even worse shape than when White last saw her. Her skin was battered and bruised, the area around her left eye was swollen and blackened. There even seemed to be open sores and cuts showing through the tattered clothes.

“Cyan!” White called out again. “Please, please, just look at me!”

It was no hope. She just kept staring forwards, waiting for the ever familiar sound of the countdown. The only voice that she had learned to respond to.

Is someone saying something? The Mysterious Figure wondered. Cyan. Is that a name? Must not be for me. That’s not my name. I’m a nobody, after all. There’s no reason to speak to me and I have no name to call. I have no name and I wear no face. I am a racehorse. That is all I ever have been and all I ever can be.

The sun was setting on the track. It was later in the day than the horses usually raced, and there was a chance it could be dark by the time it was over. But not if Jovial Merryment and her allies had their way. There would be time for plenty more fair competitions once Cyan was back. This was a time where it had to be rigged, whether that was ethical or not.

Yellow knew that, conceptually. But every time she thought of helping Merry like she did before, her stomach lurched in fear and disgust. Visions filled her head of Merry trapped in neverending races, or worse, disposed of entirely. This entire plan to find where Cyan went was based on a loose hunch that they would send Merry to the same place, and that Cyan was still alive and well. What if they were wrong? Cyan needed to be saved if at all possible. But they had to be sure this was the right way.

This time, Yellow promised to herself. This one time, I will not let her win. Today we’ll find out my name.

Bullet’n Board looked ahead and saw the determination in Yellow’s face. The way she repositioned her stance, preparing for a full-on sprint. She was deviating from the plan.

“Looks like your girlfriend’s not going to cooperate after all,” she said to Merry.

“Nine…eight…seven…”

“Leave her to me,” Door Knob interjected.

Merry looked ahead at Yellow, analyzing every minute expression. Why would she do this? Didn’t she agree with the plan? She wanted nothing more than to go up and talk to her, explain the situation, and get her back on board. But there was no time for that, if she were to win this race, she had to devote all her focus to it.

“Are you collaborating?” Resolute turned to look at Door Knob. “I can’t believe you, I thought you at least were above that. Well who are you trying to help win?”

“Six…five…four…”

Bullet’n looked between Resolute and Merry, unsure of what to say.

“Her!?” Resolute yelled. “She’s won time and time again! What help could she possibly need!”

“Three…two…one…”

Yellow bolted out of the starting gate with a speed she rarely showed. Her legs moved at their maximum capacity. One foot down, the next immediately in the air. Then back down. Up. Down. Up. Down. As fast as possible. But Door Knob was fast too. The brown horse was right behind her, chasing down Yellow’s tail. She didn’t try to speak out and convince her to stop. No, that wasn’t Door Knob’s way. She was there to physically prevent Yellow from getting ahead.

Behind them, the starting area was divided into teams. Resolute Mind Afternoon and Bullet’n Board shoved, kicked, and tussled as they tried vied for control of the exit. At the back, Pink grappled with Downtown Skybox. She didn’t know why Skybox was trying to attack her friend, but she knew it couldn’t be good. Skybox tried to get ahead, to just momentarily intervene and provide an opening, but Pink had gotten even better at wrestling than before. Any attempt to move forward with Pink on her tail remained futile. Stuck in-between the two groups was Jovial Merryment. She bounced from one foot to another, avoiding every collision she could, as she focused on the starting gate. As soon as there was an opening, she was out of there.

Pink and Skybox’s fight broke up first. Skybox soon realized she couldn’t win if this remained a physical confrontation. She began trying her best to dodge Pink and get out of the way without worrying about creating an opening. She saw one she could use, and slipped out of the starting gate. Pink, having become so focused on their own fight, dashed after Skybox in pursuit.

“What are you doing?” Resolute called out. “Get back here and help!”

Pink skidded to a stop and turned around, heading back into the gates.

“Great, now get Bullet’n off of me!” Resolute continued as Bullet’n shoved her face into a wall.

Door Knob had told her that she needed to make her own decisions. At first, helping Resolute out was her decision, but now was it her choice to keep helping? She could just be agreeing with the request, and then it’d be her choice. Then it’d be fine, right? As Pink debated whether she should keep helping or not, Merry seized her opportunity. Pink’s entrance had forced Bullet’n and Resolute further in. The gap between them, Pink, and the exit was very narrow, but it existed. And its existence was all that Merry needed.

White tapped her foot on the ground nervously, waiting for the gates to open. All the while she could only stare at the figure in the pallid mask. It had to be Cyan. She felt nauseous at the possibility that she came all this way and risked so much danger for nothing. The possibility that there were other horses locked into the same fate made her want to throw up. There was a carrot out there, somewhere, but that was not the prize White was aiming for. She had to know who this was, and she had to rescue her.

No matter if it was Cyan or not.

The gates opened and the two horses rushed forth. The mysterious figure ran ahead into the main course, but White moved to the side and went straight for her fellow competitor. Seeing her charge, the figure panicked and retreated. Back into the starting gates, further into the tracks, and back into a side alcove. White refused to back off and continued chasing, pushing her into the corner.

“Stop running,” White cried out. “I’m trying to help you.”

The mysterious figure cowered behind a pillar, crouching down to minimize her profile and slink away into the shadows. Maybe if the other horse couldn’t see her, she’d forget she existed. It’d been so long since she’d raced against someone with a face. Someone who wore such nice clothes. It had to be a trick. Nothing good could come from interacting with such a creature. The pale horse was undeterred and crouched down to the figure’s level. She lowered her gaze and somehow made eye contact through the mask that was supposed to protect her.

“I won’t hurt you,” White said. “I can get you out of here.”

No response.

White sighed and shook her head. If she wasn’t going to come out willingly, she would have to be dragged out of here. White stood up and marched forward. With each step the figure balled herself up more and more. Once she was close enough, White reached for the figure’s wrist with forceful determination. However, before she could close her hands around it, the figure leapt up to her feet and swung at White. Her nails were long and sharp, and they left a long, deep gash tearing through White’s clothes and gouging into the skin beneath. White stumbled back, hissing in pain and gripping the part of her upper arm where the nails had dug in.

The figure retreated to the shadows and began to quiver. Still, she refused to say anything.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Slowly, the figure began to nod. White sighed and turned away. Saving someone who didn’t want to be saved was impossible. But after getting a closer look, she felt fairly certain that it wasn't Cyan. Her hair was too much of that vibrant blue-green to suddenly be that color. And the physique felt wrong too, somehow. There was no telling who it was beneath that mask, but it wasn’t her Cyan. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. White would just have to go win this race and try again. Eventually they would bring her to Cyan. She just had to keep winning.

—

Door Knob pushed herself, trying as best as she could to catch up to Yellow, but it was of no use. A fire had been lit underneath that horse, one she had never seen in her before. Has she been holding back on us? By the time Door Knob had reached the first corner, Yellow was already on her way out and was barreling down the next hallway. It was one of the most exciting performances Door Knob had seen from her. She paused at the corner and watched as Yellow kept racing on. There was no way she could catch up. No hidden store of energy or deep emotional urge to let her push forward. This wasn’t a race she could win.

“Sky,” Door Knob called out as the grey horse skidded to a stop next to her.

“Why aren’t you running?”

“I can’t catch up to her,” Door Knob said, pointing down to Yellow, who was taking a brief second to recover. “Talk to her.”

“What?”

“I’m not any good at this stuff. It’s all on you.”

Skybox shook her head and took in a deep breath. Why did it have to fall on her? It’s not like she was any good at talking to people either.

“Yellow, please!” Skybox called out down the hallway. “Let Merry win this one!”

“I can’t,” Yellow replied, moving to the corridor to look at Skybox.

“You have to, for Cyan’s sake.”

“I liked Cyan,” Yellow hesitated. It was difficult to admit how incredibly selfish her reasons were. “But I love Merry. I’m doing this for her.”

“If you love Merry, you’ll let her win,” Skybox said. She paused and debated how harsh she should be. Desperate times called for desperate measures. “You haven’t won a race in a while, you know you’re falling behind. If this is what happens to the losing horses, then they’ll come for you next. You’ll never be able to stay with Merry.”

Yellow’s heart raced. Was it true? Was she stuck between either Merry being sent away or herself?

“But not if I win this one, right?”

“You won’t,” Door Knob shouted. “If you keep running, then I’ll stop trying to stop you. I will outrun you and reach the carrots first. Merry won’t win and neither will you.”

It was a bluff, but Door Knob had no other choice. Yellow bit her lip and narrowed her eyes in a piercing gaze. Skybox’s blood ran cold. It was always unnerving seeing such a sweet person show such hatred. Yellow sighed, shook her head, and walked back over to Skybox and Door Knob.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Skybox said, reaching a hand out to touch Yellow.

“I know,” Yellow replied as she brushed the hand away and walked past her. “That’s what makes it so painful.”

Merry ran down the corridor, having finally escaped the starting gates, and halted upon seeing Yellow. Her eyes were blurry and it looked like she would die of pain right there. She wanted to stop and say something, but Yellow just shook her head and looked away. Whatever. She hadn’t made it this far by giving up.

“I love you,” Merry said to the back of Yellow’s head. “No matter what happens, I always will. Remember that.”

Yellow whipped her head around. Maybe this was her chance to convince Merry. There had to be another way, she just knew it. But her champion racehorse was doing what she did best, and had already run off down the corridor. There would be no time for goodbyes. She couldn't even watch Merry leave, as her view was quickly blocked by Door Knob, Skybox, and Bullet'n rushing down to follow.

Merry pushed forward, rounding the next corner without issue. This was an easy track after all. It hardly warranted the nickname ‘torture labyrinth’. Were this a normal race, she'd even find the track boring. But there was enough occupying her mind to distract her. Chief among them was Yellow. How could I abandon her like that? My dearest companion, the one who's stuck by my side no matter what. I can't do this, not even for Cyan.

The glowing yellow light of the carrots shone down the corridor, illuminating the way forward and beckoning her closer. But there was a more important yellow that lit up her life. Merry stopped and ran back, but she had hardly made it a dozen feet before slamming into a wall. Not a wall of wood or plaster, a wall of horses. Door Knob, Bullet’n, and Skybox stood in her way, closing off the exit. Door Knob and Bullet’n were resolute in their stance, though Skybox looked overwhelmed with guilt.

How ironic , Merry thought. They've gone from blocking me into the starting area to blocking me into the final stretch.

“I can't do this,” Merry said. “I can't abandon her.”

“You made a commitment,” Door Knob said. “Be firm and hold yourself to it.”

“I know! I know what I said, but please. At least let me say goodbye. What if this is it for me?”

Bullet'n Board stepped forward and grabbed Merry's shoulders tightly. She looked down at her rival with a stern, disapproving look that slowly faded into a sympathetic smile.

“I can't pretend to understand what the two of you have,” Bullet'n said. “But I know this. Going back now is only going to make it harder for both of you. You should grab the carrots now while you can. While your heart still lets you.”

Merry took in a shaking breath. It was all she could do not to cry.

“Okay, I'll do it then.”

Slowly, Merry turned away and dragged herself towards the carrots. People would wonder for years about Jovial Merryment's unusual final victory. Why didn't she strike a victory pose or flash a smile? Had she lost the joy that racing brought to her? Had the allegations finally caught up to her? What did Bullet'n Board say to her? What caused Jovial Merryment to stop racing, and on such a dour note?

Chapter Text

“You know what they say,” Resolute said in a sing-song tone as she lounged in the bleachers next to the track. “Can’t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

“I-I-I thought Jovial Merryment did pretty well,” Pink said. “She w-w-won didn’t she?”

“If you can call that winning,” she said while rolling her eyes. “You don’t seriously consider that a real victory, do you? I mean come on, that level of colluding? I knew she paid people off, but that was just absurd. And the way she toyed with us at the end, did you watch that video? Stopping before grabbing the carrots, walking back to talk with the others. Disgusting display.”

“W-w-well, we don’t really know the whole story.”

“The whole story? What, you mean all the details of how she ruined the game? I’m sure it’ll come to light eventually.”

“Maybe there was a good reason. Door Knob would never-”

“Door Knob this, Door Knob that. She’s all you ever talk about these days. What, you got a crush on her or something?”

Pink remained silent for a long pause. She looked down at her hands and twiddled her thumbs as her heart beat faster. She couldn’t be found out. Not by Resolute, at least. Her sister would never let her hear the end of it.

“Oh shit,” Resolute said under her breath, her mocking tone now dead serious. “When did this start?”

“I-I-I don’t know! R-r-r-really! It just sorta, well, you know. We started talking, then she trained me, and I guess we spent time together, and one thing leads to another, and I get these emotions, and I don’t know where they come from, and I don’t know what to do, and she probably doesn’t like me back, she probably thinks I’m a nuisance. I’m so annoying. I always need her help. And she wants me to think for myself, but how can I when all her ideas are good? But I get it, because it’s so much work looking out for me. But she does it anyway.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Resolute called out. Pink suddenly stopped talking, but her face was now red as a branding iron. “It’s fine, just take a deep breath, okay?”

Pink nodded her head vigorously, then took in many, rapid deep breaths.

“Not like that! Here, follow me.”

Resolute closed her eyes and breathed in long and deep through her mouth. She held there for five seconds, then exhaled through the nose. Pink tried her best to copy the motion. They continued like that, just breathing in sync together. The whole world faded away. It was just them, two sisters once again.

“Feel better?” Resolute asked.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Okay, I’m not going to get involved in whatever you have going on because it seems like you’ll die of embarrassment if I do. So let’s just set Door Knob aside for a moment. I’m fine saying she wasn’t paid off, doesn’t seem like the type anyways.”

“Right.” Pink nodded along. She was more than happy to drop the subject of Door Knob. It was a blessing that Resolute was so focused on Jovial Merryment’s disappearance.

“Now, whether she won fairly or not, and she definitely did not, what we can all agree on is that she’s gone. Where to? Who cares? Not our problem.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“She just won her third race in a row. The first threepeat in the history of the league. Not even Woodrow coulda pulled that off. She’ll be fine. She’s probably just relaxing on a beach right now, sipping some apple cider. Speaking of apples…”

Pink’s tall, pointed ears perked up at attention and her slouch suddenly disappeared.

“Figured that’d get your attention,” Resolute giggled. “I hear they’re switching up the prize. No more carrots. It’s apples this time.”

“Apples?” Pink’s eyes lit up.

“You heard me loud and clear. And you know who’s going to seize them?”

Me, me, me. Pink thought. It’s been so long since I had apples. Please, tell me you’re going to help me win this race. I’ve been training, I can do it now. Please takes the risk on me.

“That’s riiiiight,” Resolute turned her hand into a fist and pointed a thumb at her chest. “This gal. I’m gonna be the first horse to win apples in this league. It’ll be a great way to prove how I’m the new Jovial Merryment, now that she’s left us.”

Pink’s ears deflated and her slouch returned as if it had never gone. Back to being a shrimp.

“Right.”

“Hey, what’re you looking all sad for? I’ll split them with you, obviously.”

“Right.”

But they’ll taste so much sweeter if I win them.

“I thought you agreed with our plan,” Bullet’n Board said with no small hint of exasperation.

“I’m allowed to change my mind, aren’t I?” Yellow said, her arms crossed defensively as she sat upright in the chair at Bullet’n’s vanity.

“One, this isn’t just picking what restaurant to go to for dinner. And two, you change your mind all the time. First you want Merry to win, then you don’t want her to win. You want time away from her, then you kiss her, then you want time away again, then you’re feeling each other up while on the tracks.”

“Leave my relationship with her out of this.”

“And how do you expect me to do that!?” Bullet’n shouted. “That’s what this is all about! You love her because she cares about others, but you don’t want her to go and rescue Cyan because you love her. Do you realize how much of a hypocrite you are?”

“Alright then, fine. I’m a hypocrite. But everything I did was because I loved her. And what does it matter what I did or did not do? She’s gone now. You won.”

“It matters because you can’t come in here complaining to me about taking action if you’re going to be indecisive about it.”

“Oh is that what we’re calling caution now? Indecision?”

“Do you think Cyan has time for caution with what they’re doing to her?”

“That’s exactly the issue. We have no idea what they’re doing to her. We don’t know if Merry going there is going to help or not. You, Sky, and Door Knob should’ve waited until you knew more information before coming to us. You know how Merry works. Put a challenge in front of her, she’ll accept it. When’s the last time you’ve seen her exercise caution or restraint? The moment you finished your proposal, she’d already accepted it.”

“So now it’s our fault that she decided to help us?”

“No…” Yellow said, drifting off into a quieter tone. “It’s your fault she’s not coming back.”

Bullet’n opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She clenched her jaw tight and began pacing. Merry was alive and healthy, she had to be. If she didn’t stand a chance, then who could? And who in the world could ever replace her? Bullet’n slammed her hoof into the wall, smashing through the sheet rock. There had to be more of an argument against Yellow. She couldn’t be right. Because then…then Merry’s blood would be on her hands.

“She’ll be okay,” Bullet’n said more to herself than to Yellow.

“There you go, making assumptions again.”

“She’ll be okay,” Bullet’n said again, stressing each word more harshly.

“And how do you know that?”

“Because come hell or high water, we’ll make sure of it.”

“You mean chasing after her?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“You would really abandon racing to save her?”

“If that’s. What. It. Takes.”

Besides , Bullet’n thought. There’s no point in racing if Jovial’s not on the field.

“I did it,” Pink said with a shaky voice. “I really did it.”

As she stood on the podium, clutching her precious bushel of apples, she smiled with pride and stood straight and tall. There was no Shrimp on this stage. There was only a horse formerly known as ‘Pink’.

“M-m-my name is Comely Material Morning!” she said loudly to the crowd, and for the first time her voice quivered with excitement rather than fear. It had been a long road to get here, but she had her apples, she had her name, and she had someone to stand by her side.

The race for the apples started long before Pink grappled with Yellow and Bullet’n Board and managed to stand her own ground in the two-on-one match. Long before she tangled with her own sister and sent her back out of the final corridors. Long before the starting gates flew open and she used all her speed and agility to force her way through the jammed corners and disorienting hallways. The race began as soon as Resolute Mind Afternoon ended their conversation, and Pink decided that this time she would win. She had thought many times before she’d like to win, or that she’d try to win. But this was a different feeling. A compulsion deep in the gut. A desire to win that couldn’t be quenched with anything short of total victory. She wondered if this was how Jovial Merryment felt. Was this what it meant to be a champion?

Naturally there had only been one horse she could approach about ensuring a victory. There may have been others who were better at racing, but none were better at training. Not to mention, there was no one else she trusted to be so vulnerable around. With everyone else, she was constantly on her toes and afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. Of being noticed, ridiculed, and ostracized. But not around her. Around her, she felt completely safe. Some people made fun of her name, saying it was dull and boring. But Pink absolutely understood it. Like a door, she was strong, opaque, and stoic. But a door can also let people in and protect them. Pink knew which side of the door she wanted to be on.

When Pink first approached Door Knob about winning, she was slow to make her intentions clear and Door Knob was quick to try and reassure. She said that it was fine for Pink to have lost the last couple races. There wasn’t anything to worry about. The betting pool was fine, Pink had performed well enough to still be viewed favorably and she’d get paid just the same. Door Knob tossed around some vague apologies about having pushed her too far. Whenever Pink would mention a need to win, Door Knob acted strange and ensured her that nothing bad would happen to her. That she would protect Pink from anyone that tried to pull her off the tracks. Door Knob wasn’t the most tactful about such subjects, however, and only served to make Pink more fearful about what might happen if she lost.

“Please, listen!” Pink had exclaimed in the loudest voice Door Knob had ever heard from her. It was still quieter than Resolute’s normal volume, but coming from Pink it was enough for Door Knob to shut up and be her normal, taciturn self. Pink took in a deep breath then nodded, satisfied with the return to Door Knob’s usual state of being.

“You’ll think I’m silly, but please just hear me out, okay?” Pink asked.

“Okay,” Door Knob replied.

“I want to win,” Pink began. “Because the prize is some apples.”

“Apples?”

Pink felt all the confidence she tried so hard to muster flee her at once. She slouched further, trying to vanish into thin air, and began to walk back to her stables.

“Stop,” Door Knob half-asked and half-commanded. “I want to hear why.”

Pink slowly shuffled back, but kept her eyes averted from Door Knob.

“I just don’t like how carrots taste. I never have. I’m a picky eater, I guess. But I love apples. They were the prize on the old circuits I competed in. So they taste like, well it’ll sound lame to someone as cool as you, but they taste like better days. Here there’s so many eyes watching, so much that can go wrong if you mess up one thing. It’s so much pressure I just want to curl up and die. But if I could win some apples, maybe I’d feel like I’m back where I belong. That I’m actually supposed to be here.”

“That’s as good a reason as I’ve ever heard,” Door Knob replied.

“You don’t think it’s silly?”

“Not at all, Shrimp. You say you’re not sure you belong here?”

“Yeah, sometimes I feel like I made the wrong choice being a racehorse. That I’m not cut out for this.”

“Believe it or not, I felt the same way once. Lost my passion, didn’t know what I was racing for. Felt like quitting. You know what my trainer said to me?”

“What did they say?”

“You made a choice to be here. It doesn’t matter whether that was the right choice or not. It’s up to you to make it the right choice.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means now that you’re on the track, it’s your responsibility to make the most of it.”

“Oh, I see,” Pink smiled and finally managed to look up at Door Knob. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been this open to someone before. Not even Resolute.”

“I’m not usually someone people talk to about this,” Door Knob said. “But I’m honored you did. Now then, you came to me for some more training?”

“Yes, and this time no holding back.”

“Sure about that?”

“Yeah, I made my choice. I have to make it the right one.”

“Good, because if you’re serious about winning, you have to get serious about competing. Your skills are as refined as I can get them, all that’s left to work on is your commitment.”

Over the next few days, Door Knob and Pink did nothing but race, spar, and practice the toughest parts of the race. Overtaking. Weaving between fights. Going on the offensive. Holding your ground defensively. The training regiment was as much about how to react to other horses as it was about how to race a track. This type of training was intense and more brutal than anything Pink had gone through before, and more than once Door Knob had to hold and console her as Pink broke down in tears. But that’s what it took to be at the top. To make all those years getting to this league worth it. To make it the right choice to be here.

And as Pink stood up on the podium, clutching her bushel of apples, no one could say all of that wasn’t worth it.

“Are you okay, Shrimp?” Door Knob asked Comely, ushering her off the stage with a protective arm over the shoulder. She brought a hand up to Comely’s cheek and wiped away some of her tears. “Sorry, I know the podium can be a bit much, let’s get you somewhere private.”

“It’s fine, really,” Comely choked out between sobs. “I’m only crying…because I’m just so happy.”

Chapter Text

White anxiously waited in the starting gate, hugging herself tightly and exchanging nervous glances with her fellow competitors. At least, she assumed they were also looking at her. There were three racehorses to her left. That same Mysterious Figure in the pallid mask and dirty ivory racing silks as before, and two new ones.

Both of the newcomers wore masks and had a somewhat mossy bluish green hue in their hair and silks, but beyond that their appearances differed wildly. One of them had what appeared to be blades or knives dangling from her belt, thigh straps, arm straps, and a chest strap. She was tall and thin, and loomed eerily from the back. This horse, who she had heard called Nighttime Knifemare, reminded White of a desolate lighthouse – standing solitary and distinct, with a piercing gaze that she knew was pointed right at her.

The other horse, called Garbage Bin, was much more similar in height and build to White, at least as far as she could tell under the racing silks. Her costume was loose and composed of successive layers of tattered blackish-green clothes piled up on each other. She wore a torn cropped hoodie and tennis skirt on top, with a few ripped athletic shirts, shorts, and leggings layered on underneath. Each piece of the costume was something White had recalled seeing Cyan wear once. If any of these horses was her friend, it would have to be her. That, or the organizers had just decided to make a mockery of her.

If that horse truly was Cyan, then maybe she was too far gone. The Mysterious Figure refused any help, and these other poor horses looked equally standoffish, albeit in different ways. Garbage Bin seemed intent on winning based on that starting position and the way she didn’t even look towards the others. And Knifemare seemed to radiate malice from each pointed blade. All White had done was win one race against Cyan alone, and one against the Mysterious Figure who let her win. There was no hope of helping. No hope of winning. Coming here was a huge mistake.

“Need a hand?” A familiar voice called out from behind. White whipped around to see Jovial Merryment strutting in while stretching an arm across her chest. “The other tracks got a little boring, figured I’d switch up the pace.”

“What are you doing here?” White stared, her mouth agape.

“Same as you,” Merry replied with an easy smile as she walked into her gate and began to stretch her calves. “I’m here to save my sister.”

“Your sister?”

“Don’t act so surprised, can’t you tell we’ve got the same good looks? But we can talk about all that later. Now then, who are these horses?”

“I’m not sure. Their names are A Mysterious Figure, Nighttime Knifemare, and Garbage Bin. I’ve never heard them speak.”

“Creepy. Are they good racers?”

“Remains to be seen.”

“Then let’s assume they are. Looks like they might’ve been down here a while, training in this punishment circuit. We can assume they’ll do what it takes to get out.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t race. Cyan’s stuck down here because I took the carrots from her. If we let them win…”

“Have you seen the prize?”

“No.”

“It’s carrots, but…” Merry sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “They glow cyan.”

White furrowed her brow. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant.

“Looks like these horses might be too far gone anyways,” Merry said, trying to convince herself more than White. “Let’s just focus on what we came here for.”

White nodded and took up a racing stance. She would win this one. She had to. There was no other option but victory.

“Ten…nine…eight…seven…”

“I still think you were doping,” White grumbled.

“Six…five…four…”

“Right about now, I wish you were right.”

“Three…two…one…go!”

The gates flew open and immediately the two groups of racers collided into each other. It was clearly intentional on the part of the masked horrors. The Mysterious Figure led the charge, slamming into Merry and causing the orange horse to stumble backwards. All the wind immediately left her lungs. Not even Pink had been able to hit her so hard. Meanwhile, Knifemare slid on her heel towards White and swung ferociously with her bladed wrist. It was a close call, but White was able to dodge out of the way, only ripping the end of her loose sleeve.

Merry and White looked at each other in shared realization of what they had to do. This wouldn’t be a normal race. Together they charged in, bobbing and weaving through the violent attacks these other racehorses let out. There was something off about their violence, however. It wasn’t malicious or mindless, but more fearful. Their attacks became quicker and fiercer as Merry and White closed in. It was like they were animals caught in a cage, willing to risk it all to bite the hand approaching them.

But the pair didn’t risk such attacks for no reason. If this was how their competitors were going to race, they needed to sequester them away and free up the track. With each brief charge forwards and feint back, the other horses retreated slightly in fear. It was a tough balance to strike, dodging in and out, close enough to present a threat without making any physical contact. But Merry was the fastest horse out there, and White had become tenacious and bold in her time at the second stable. After enough feigned shoves and narrowly dodged blows, they managed to push the three horrors back into a side track. The way forward was suddenly cleared.

“Okay, what now?” Merry asked, huffing as she leaned down and braced herself against her knees.

“What do you mean, ‘what now’?” White asked incredulously. “We get the carrots, obviously.”

“Then lead the way.”

White began to step forward, only to realize what Merry had meant. In the midst of the fight with the other horses, they had gotten so spun around that there was no clear direction to go in. Three exits all around, with more hallways branching after each one. This was the true labyrinth. Merry and White  trotted towards one exit after another, peering down the corridors for some hint of a cyan glow. It was to no avail. Each one looked identical. They couldn’t even remember which one they had pushed their competitors down.

“I think we just have to guess,” Merry said.

“Okay, let’s go through this one,” White said, marching towards a random exit.

“No, we ought to split up.”

“Are you insane? What if we end up in another fight? I don’t think we can make it out of a three-on-one encounter.”

“That’s why we have to split up. If one of us is caught, it’ll give the other a chance to seize the carrots. Only one of us can win, anyways, right?”

White balled up her fists and bit her tongue. Why wouldn’t Merry listen to her? She didn’t want to make the same mistake yet again. One of them would be abandoned and trapped here, just like Cyan. But there was no time to come up with another plan.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way,” White relented.

“See you on the other side, Superstitional.”

“That’s not my-”

“You earned it. It’s time you start using it.”

Merry trotted off down the middle exit, leaving Superstitional Realism behind to explore the exit immediately to its left. It didn’t take long for Super to round a corner and immediately run into one of the other racehorses. Garbage Bin stood in an alcove, shaking and trying to catch her breath. She knew that she should be chasing down the carrots and not stopping for anything, but Super also knew that this could be her only chance. If this really was Cyan, she had to be sure.

“Cyan, is that you?” she asked, reaching out slowly to try and touch the bluish-green mask. “Do you remember me? I know it’s been a while but I’m still here. I still care about you. Let me help.”

Garbage Bin cowered and crouched within herself slowly, but not enough to stop Superstitional’s approach. The hand got closer, and closer. It gently caressed the outside of the mask, then went to pry it off. And that’s when Garbage Bin acted. She swung her leg out, sweeping Superstitional off her feet and onto her back with a loud thud. She wasted no time in rushing out of the alcove, abandoning the other horse on the ground.

At the same time, Merry was back to staying light on her toes as she jumped back and forth, ducking her head and swinging her body as she tried to avoid Knifemare’s blades. There were way too many close calls. Her jacket was already torn in multiple places, and blood ran down her cheek from one close nick on the face. She began to feel light-headed and weary from all the movement. It was so different from any other race she had been in. This was a fight for survival, not victory. There was nothing to find enjoyable in this mess. It truly was hell.

The next five minutes passed in a continued, chaotic fight up and down the corridor that all five horses found themselves on. At times Super and Merry were kept apart in their own struggles or trying to hide and recover. At other times, they stood back to back, working as best as they could to be a cohesive unit. To fight as one and push forward. But that push never came. Nighttime Knifemare’s blades were something they never had to encounter before, and the Mysterious Figure hit hard and often, bruising Super and Merry’s bodies and sapping all their energy. Just dealing with the two of them would be awful enough without Garbage Bin constantly sneaking in and aiding her allies.

Time dragged on, and this competition felt less and less like a race. Merry and Super focused solely on survival. On staying out of harm's way and within eyesight of each other. Cyan’s plight was always in their mind, forcing them forwards, but their strategy to reach her had eluded them. Any sense of planning was knocked loose from their heads by Mysterious Figure’s strikes, and there was no time to strategize when staring down the glint of Knifemare’s blades. The race was lost without them even realizing it.

“And the winner is…Garbage Bin!” the announcer called out.

Knifemare and the Mysterious Figure quickly stopped their assaults and backed away. All Merry and Superstitional could do was stare at each other. They had lost. Cyan was gone and they didn’t even realize it had happened.

“What now?” Superstitional whispered under her breath.

Merry stared with blank, wide eyes. How could this have happened to her? She couldn’t let it end here. This could not possibly be the end. All the years of work. The blood, sweat, and tears. Losing Cyan. Abandoning Yellow on the other track. Ruining friendships. It had to all be for something.

“We keep racing,” Merry said. “Until we win.”