Chapter Text
Agnes Tachyon was known for a lot of things, had a lot of nicknames around campus to accompany each one of her… eccentric traits, but one that seemed to have not caught the public eye yet was her horrible, terrible, no-good tendency to ignore her body until the last moment unless she needed it for something.
Before races, Tracen students would see her act so diligently, attending her classes, preparing for each training session, eating the right thing, sleeping eight hours a night, she was a model student. But, ever since that possibility stopped being accessible to her, she… Dropped the act. For a lack of a better explanation.
Back when Tachyon was in her prime, she was calculating the macros of every meal and meticulously jotting down the details of her training each time she stepped outside – weather, temperature, her mood, her blood pressure, she kept track of everything to an obsessive degree. All of it meant to aid in her final goal of surpassing the limits of Umamusume, an attempt which ended with her surpassing not just that, but the limits of her own body, already far weaker than it should have been.
Most other girls pitied her fate when they heard of it, some not believing the announcement she’d made about her hiatus, others celebrating her early retirement due to the way she dominated the scene, how it was unfair and “boring” to watch her run, knowing that with her skill, she would win regardless.
Tachyon viewed all those reactions with equal indifference. It was none of her business, and neither did she want it to be – catering to others emotional states was simply not a matter she found herself proficient in, not willing to try her hand at.
But when it came to her…
Things always got more complicated than they were meant to be when she was involved, didn’t they?
And for no reason other that she did the exact thing Tachyon wanted not to involve herself with, she took everything so personally, like Tachyon’s retirement was some sort of insult meant to harm her, spit in her face, knock the wind out of her lungs. It was none of those, obviously.
But Jungle Pocket couldn’t let it go.
Maybe Tachyon should be thankful, in a way, to that insistent nature that Pocket had. It was what convinced her to get back into racing after the Japan cup, even If she then had to battle with the reality that she may never be a winner again, if she was ever able to participate in an actual race and not just run alongside Pocket for fun while the girl trained.
Not only did those training sessions bring up unwanted feelings and thoughts within Tachyon, it also exposed her to the sort of scrutiny that she did not appreciate in the slightest.
“Have you eaten today?” or “You look pale, did you not sleep well?” accompanied by a hand forcefully pressed against her cheek or neck, with a: “You’re running a little hot, you should sit this one out.”
She was incessant. Annoying, perceptive, and relentless. When Pocket thought something was off with Tachyon, she said it, and immediately after found a solution for it that the girl just had to play along with, lest they got into one of their infamous arguments. It was getting to the point where other girls found it almost amusing to hear their bickering while passing them amidst their own laps, catching only brief segments of their heated talks from which more often than not, Tachyon was either physically made to back away from by Pocket herself, or stared at until she did so herself. Once, when trying to test just how sturdy Pocket’s stubbornness and patience was, Tachyon stared back, awaiting to see how long she could play that role of bouncer until she gave in and went back to her training.
Both Tanabe and Fuji had to reprimand the girls that day and make them go home early, lest sunset would have caught them still silently staring at one another, both refusing to stand down.
That is to say, Tachyon was a tough patient.
Careless with her health, stubborn, and with a sharp tongue that could help her win against any verbal arguments if one were to try and take that path.
“Come have lunch with me today.” Pocket found herself standing in the borrowed classroom turned science experiment laboratory one summer midday, hands on her hips, a more than assertive tone in her voice as she stared down the one girl she knew all too well would rather jump out of her window right then and there than head to the cafeteria and eat food with the other students.
Tachyon was, as per usual, busy typing away on her computer, both legs drawn up so that she could press her chin against her knees, a position that looked as unappealing as it was uncomfortable and yet the she barely moved from it while replying to Pocket.
“Hmm… I would love to engage with your amazing conversation partners in some exciting, intellectual discussions, but as you can see-“ Her red eyes flickered up towards Pocket, as if to make sure she was actually looking, before gesturing with both her hands towards the monitor and keyboard in front of her. “I am rather busy at the moment.”
Manhattan Cafe rested in the corner of the room while this discussion was going on as well, but no amount of looking back at her would get Pocket any kind of help. Cafe was undeniably what most would consider Tachyon’s closest “friend” and yet even then the two always acted as if they barely tolerated one another’s presence, though Pocket never thought of herself in a position to question their dynamic. If this is what they were comfortable with, then so be it.
She sure would like it if Cafe took her side once in a while though, especially in occasions like this where it would held rid her of the mumbling scientist. Unless she actually enjoyed the casual and constant sound of Tachyon simply existing in the same room as her.
“Yeah, can tell, too busy to even brush your hair this morning, weren’t you?” Pocket reached forwards with one of her hands, gently pinching between her fingers one strand of Tachyon’s rusty-brown hair, tugging on it only to lift a much thicker knotted bit towards the middle of her head.
Her hand was batted away shortly after, like she was no more than an annoying fly buzzing around Tachyon’s head.
“I wasn’t planning of going anywhere today.” Came the excuse, though Tachyon’s tone of voice turned slightly pouty at the call-out, her head slumping forwards towards her computer screen even more. Pocket only stared in unimpressed annoyance, her mouth pulled to the side and her eyebrows raised as she leaned forwards slightly. She tried to glimpse at the screen and see what had prevented the girl from even running her fingers trough her hair upon waking up, but whatever it was went right over her head regardless.
“Mm-hm… Well, now you are, so maybe go and take care of it?” The same hand that took hold of Tachyon’s hair now draped over the back of her chair, shaking it briefly, her current stance now entirely towering over Tachyon in her own chair, and the girl did seem to react to that at the very least. She tried leaning to the side to put some space between the two of them, a futile attempt, only making Pocket lean forward more and more, repeatedly calling out towards Tachyon for some sort of reply until she lost her patience.
“Who do you think you are? Pestering me like this, about my hair no less, don’t you have some training to partake in?” Her voice was sharp and much more annoyed than usual, her lack of rest quite clearly taking a toll on what kind of teasing she could endure, something that did not slip by Pocket.
“Or do you find such enjoyment in preventing me from doing my work that it is better than any other of the various academic activities Tracen Academy provides for its students?”
“I want you to eat lunch with me, really, what’s so hard to understand?”
No matter how sincere and simple Pocket’s motives were, however, Tachyon seemed to be entirely lost in her research and not willing to waste even a single moment on such frivolous things as eating and brushing her hair. What’s next, sleeping the entire night? As if, that was precious time she could feel slipping trough her fingers like grains of sand.
“I am busy.”
And that was that, her final nail in the coffin, the stance from which one Agnes Tachyon would not budge no matter how much anyone insisted on it.
And Pocket, obliged.
With a huff and puff of annoyance, a brief comment about how unbearable Tachyon was sometimes, Pocket turned on her heel and stomped out of the busy room, once more leaving Tachyon to her research.
It wasn’t pleasant, by any means. Working trough exhaustion that made her eyes sting and her typing not as precise as she would have wanted it to be, having to constantly go back and correct mistakes she had made, being reminded of the need to eat that suddenly put into perspective the hunger pangs that her brain had managed to block out until this moment - no one in their right mind would find such a thing enjoyable. But it’s what she needed to do. Or, at least that’s what she thought it was. Because if she didn’t have a project to work on, some crazy experiment to pour herself into, then-
The door to the classroom once again slammed open not a couple of minutes after Tachyon had managed to drag herself back into her typical working rhythm, and in front of it stood Pocket, a semi-transparent white plastic bag in her hand.
Tachyon didn’t spare her more attention than a slight sideways glance and roll of her eyes.
Still, Pocket was undeterred, stepping inside and closing the door behind herself, grabbing the small classroom chair resting beside the door and dragging it all the way beside Tachyon’s own chair. First, she reached into the bag and dropped in front of her a bento box with a pattern of green foliage on it, old and beaten, roughed up around the edges, yet still entirely functional. It would have been a charming little thing, had it not landed right atop of Tachyon’s keyboard, taking away the last remnants of patience within her.
“Pocket…” She muttered the girls name, her hands balling into fists briefly, as if trying to contain her bubbling anger, while the girl causing it all merely dropped onto the seat she’d brought over, one of her knees drawn up, her expression deceivingly blank.
“What?” She shrugged while asking, as if to say that she had no idea what Tachyon was calling her name for, the bag in her lap crinkling as out of it was pulled another bento box, this one the generic sort that one could buy at the corner store, and once it was out, the bag was crumpled up into a ball and thrown aside to inevitably land and then roll down some cardboard box made tower.
She opened her tiny bento and slid the lid beneath it so that she didn’t have to hold it, revealing the few bits of vegetables, rice balls, and other easy to store items inside of it, a pair of wooden chopsticks already held within her right hand.
“C’mon, open it up.” She jostled the already worn-down Tachyon with another bump of her elbow against the chair she was sitting on, its screws all loose from often usage already, making it easily move from side to side in a way it wasn’t entirely meant to. It creaked like hell with every small movement as well, but for some reason Tachyon refused to rid herself of it and get a better one.
“I’ve already said that I do not want to eat anything.” She turned towards the blonde girl with a weary expression on her face, and despite it all, her tormentor continued to refuse to just leave her alone. It would have been easier for both girls, both of them going their own way, Pocket eating with her friends at lunch like usual, Tachyon burning herself out, but instead…
“C’mon.” Instead, Pocket continued to shift her intense gaze between Tachyon and the bento resting against her keyboard, heavy enough to press down against a key or two and make multiple rows of it on the notes she seemed to be writing. And just in case Tachyon didn’t get it, she then tilted her chin forwards, as if to point at the blasted thing with just her face.
Her stupid, fake clueless looking face with her cheeks already stuffed with food.
Maybe… Well, maybe lunch didn’t sound so bad.
And maybe it would get Pocket off of her tail.
With a sigh, Tachyon lowered her feet to the ground, allowing her to reach out with both hands more easily and lift the bento box up and off of the desk, placing it instead into her lap. She only stared at it at first, confused, the furrow in her brow saying as much at least while her gaze kept its usual hard to read voidness.
She popped open the lid.
“This is your lunch.” It was only a statement. A rather obvious one to make, at that, a green foliage-themed bento for the Umamusume called Jungle Pocket? How on the nose. And yet… Somewhat adorable, too.
“I mean, yeah.” Pocket replied with yet another shrug, speaking with her mouth full as she watched expectantly while Tachyon grasped the chopsticks resting in there, positioning them just right against her fingers. “But I get to eat stuff like that every day, so…”
There was a pause. An absolute silence that made it feel like Pocket was even holding in her breath, afraid of making the smallest peep that would make Tachyon turn the entire bento box upside down and let all its carefully cut and arranged contents spill on the floor out of sheer spite. Not that Pocket viewed her as that much of a vengeful or wasteful person, it was an irrational thought, of course, and no matter how impossible Tachyon was to work with, in the end she was still human.
A human that still experienced hunger, as Tachyon went on to show by bringing the first bite to her lips and pushing it in past her teeth, then chewing, and then swallowing. There was a faint rumbling that came from her stomach right afterwards, a cry of relief, maybe, from finally being fed.
“… It’s good.”
Pocket nodded her head, and that was the last sentence either girl spoke for the following fifteen minutes where both of them merely sat like that, resting side by side, enjoying their lunch. At some point Cafe got up and left the room, with Pocket turning her head around to watch her curiously, but once that door was closed again, her eyes found their way back to Tachyon.
She was… not looking her best.
Besides the features Pocket had noted prior, there was a certain drag to her eyelids that made it more and more obvious that each blink was a fight against gravity to pry her eyes open again afterward, that she had to take deep breaths just to make the tiniest shot of energy course trough her, the effects of her syrupy tea annulled by the biological need for rest.
Actual rest, not the Tachyon branded kind, either.
And while Pocket couldn’t exactly force her to lay down and take at least a nap, she could give her a moment of silence and comfort while watching her dig into what was supposed to be her lunch, though she doubted Fuji will mind it. Not that she will be told all her hard work was given instead to another student, though even so she wasn’t the sort of person to be upset by such a thing.
She could already see that in the short while Tachyon took to eat her lunch, her shoulders slumped and her figure looked a thousand times more relaxed than before. She actually leaned back against her creaky chair instead of staying hunched forwards like a shrimp of some kind, a now nearly polished clean bento box in her lap.
Pocket reached over the armrest of her chair and took hold of the bento box, Tachyon quickly letting go of it, her eyes flickering from the hand that took the box out of her hands up to Pocket’s calm face as she did so. She was still chewing on her last bite, as Tachyon evidently had blazed trough her food far quicker than Pocket did. She gingerly closing it up and stacked her bought lunch on top of it so that she could easily hold both in one hand while sitting up. She grabbed and dragged her chair back over to where it was prior, and with a last look over her shoulder, she bid Tachyon goodbye.
“Hey.” She smiled at her briefly, softly. “Take a break every now and then, alright?”
The aftertaste in Tachyon’s mouth was sweet, despite there being no dessert packed in Pocket’s bento box.
That’s how their little tradition began, if you could call it that. It was more akin to an intervention if anything, where Pocket would choose two days out of the week to have her lunch together with the ever busy scientist, no matter how much she whined about it.
Eventually Tachyon will give in, after all. Learn that resistance was futile against someone so dead-set on doing what was best for her and making her consume an actual full meal at a time that wasn’t nearly as absurd as all the other times Tachyon found herself eating at, most of them set deep into the night when she could no longer work on her projects and was thus obligated to look after herself somewhat.
But with that out of the way, there were more rather unpleasant behaviours to take care of still.
For example, Tachyon’s refusal to do much of anything other than to sit in her makeshift laboratory and stare at her computer screen for days on end, only attending the bare minimum of classes needed to get a high enough attendance to pass, and then ignoring everything and everyone else.
Very rarely has Pocket actually seen Tachyon outside of that room to begin with, and on the two occasions she could remember, it was because she had stepped on the outside ledge through her window for whatever reason, though she was quick to pop back in with little trouble right when anyone else showed up. Then, there was the occasional glimpse she got of her while training, brief and fleeting, but a refreshing sight nevertheless. Then…
No, that was it.
Was it really? Hanging off the ledge of her window, training, and competitions? That sounded wrong, but the more Pocket pondered on it, she came to realise that it was true. She never did see Tachyon go outside just for the hell of it. And that… definitely couldn’t be healthy, could it?
“Tachyon.”
For the said recluse, hearing Pocket call out her name was akin to hearing the bells toll for her end, having but a few seconds to save whatever she was working on and turn her attention towards the intruder. She’d gotten more than enough examples of what would happen if she dared to ignore Pocket, to the point where she no longer tried to fight against it.
How strange… Had she always been so easily worn down?
“What’re you doing?” Pocket’s words were slightly slurred, as if she was too lazy to speak properly, and her rather monotone pitch aided in that presentation as well.
She sauntered easily over the distance between the door and Tachyon’s desk and, as per usual, perched her arm over the chair’s headrest, leaning her big head forwards until it blocked Tachyon’s view of her own screen. It’s not like Pocket understood anything that was laid out on the computer anyway, but she just liked to be included like that, to get a peek at what Tachyon was doing and then move on.
“It would seem I’m working on a new experiment of mine.” The girl explained quite calmly, humming softly, her wide-open eyes following Pocket’s face as she backed away from the screen with an almost disgusted look on her face, most likely horrified at the sort of activities Tachyon found “fun” that made little sense to her.
She had to fix that. Right now, if possible.
“Let’s go to the arcade.”
“The arcade?”
The proposition was sudden and unexpected, Pocket had never once attempted to drag Tachyon away from her work besides to eat or train with her, so for her to attempt to waste her time like this was…
“And why would I do that?” Tachyon dismissed it, a faint laugh lingering behind her words, batting her hand at Pocket as if to dismiss her and her ridiculous statements, though the girl stood firm in her post.
“Because the arcade’s fun and I’m inviting you there.” Pocket’s explanation was simple, nothing that would actually normally convince Tachyon to tag along, no bid for her attention by providing her with useless experiment ideas about how she could test her skills at the claw machine or shooting games. It almost baffled Tachyon how little Pocket was trying at the moment, so much so she sat in silence for a handful of comments after, simply staring up at the girl.
Why was she almost considering it?
“And…” Pocket let out a weary sigh as she continued. “You really need to get out of here. ASAP.”
Pocket stood straight up after what seemed to be her final statement, and it was only now that Tachyon managed to get a proper glimpse of her. She was used to seeing Pocket covered in either the school’s uniform or her track uniform, even her running silks were a more common sight than the rather simple ensemble she had donned on at the moment. Bulky yellow shoes covered her feet with green and sky-blue accents, what looked to be some rather stylish yoga pants hugged her muscular legs close, her hips just barely covered by a loose yellow shirt that was placed beneath a sporty black and white jacket, a practical and comfortable looking outfit that Tachyon most certainly approved of.
Her intense gaze must have gotten to the poor girl however, who ended up turning her head down and looking at herself quickly, wondering it perhaps there was something wrong with her way of dress, a stain that she’d missed until this very moment.
“I am feeling perfectly well, myself.” Tachyon quickly dismissed her worries as she turned her head back around to the computer and stretched both hands out to her keyboard once more.
“If you feel inclined to head out but dislike the thought of doing so alone, I would suggest you contact that Flame Dantsu. I’m sure she would be more than eager to accompany you.” It was the softest letdown Tachyon could ever give Pocket, but even so it drew a huff and groan out of her, who then reached out with both hands to grab onto Tachyon. Normally, she would have fought against such acts, feeling the way Pocket slipped both hands underneath her pits and quite literally lifted her out of the chair, but her brute strength was no match for the far weaker girl and so all she could offer as resistance was a bit of squirming around and a “Hey!” or “Stop!”
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m not letting you stay cooped up in here all day!” Pocket’s tone was almost angry when she finally released Tachyon after getting a pair of oversized sleeves flipped over her face more than just a couple of times. They had been drawn up until now so Tachyon could type properly, but quickly slid down like some sort of defence system when Pocket pried at her.
“So…” Her voice grew quieter upon realising that maybe she had been just a bit too aggressive, straightening herself out, tugging on the collar and sleeves of her jacket. She could almost swear that there was the tiniest dusting of red over Tachyon’s cheeks as she looked at Pocket in pure disbelief.
“So go and get dressed! I’m taking you to the arcade and that’s final!” Pocket declared with her arms crossing over her chest, the sun catching onto the necklace that rested above her shirt once more, casting its colourful beams of light across the walls of Tachyon’s little corner.
“You have… thirty minutes to get ready.” Pocket’s eyes only flickered away briefly as she thought of an appropriate amount of time to give Tachyon, not wanting to rush her, while also not giving her too much time to make her escape. “If you’re not down at the fountain in front by then I’ll come get you myself.”
She took a step back, then gave Tachyon a rather pointed look, waiting until Tachyon herself dropped her arms to the side and sighed in defeat.
Good! There was no use fighting against Pocket anyway.
The girl’s voice rang trough the hall as she slipped out the door: “And that’s a promise!” She called out to Tachyon, and for some reason Tachyon herself took that threat quite seriously.
Though she did turn her head to look over the research she’d been writing up now, the myriad of documents she had open, the statistics running in the background of everything on much smaller windows, all of it thrown away and left to rot… Just because Pocket wanted to go to the arcade.
“Ahh… I suppose it can’t be helped…”
It took Tachyon precisely twenty-eight minutes to get ready, ridding herself of the typical uniform and putting on clothes far more suited to going outside, which concluded with her wearing a pair of teal-blue slip-on shoes, dark tights beneath a pair of shorts, and a thin turtle-neck underneath a rather oversized looking button up, most of it white though one side of it, just bellow her shoulder, was sliced with a black outline, and then that space filled with a darker blue that went all the way around to the middle of her back. The large sleeve that reached her elbow was also blue on that side, while on the other it was a simple white.
She was about seven meters away from Pocket when she saw the her rather angrily hop up from the edge of the fountain which she’d perched herself on and spin around, no doubt in order to go running off looking for her, only to see Tachyon already there.
“Oh-ho, what is this impatience of yours, dear Pocket?” Tachyon immediately teased the girl as she approached. She now saw that Pocket had a small backpack dangling behind her, while she herself carried a lighter, small bag slung over her shoulder in order to secure any belongings that she needed.
“You barely gave me enough time to prepare, and now you jump at the idea of me being in the slightest bit tardy! I say, your temper is rather unpleasant today, I wonder if perhaps the changing weather from the summer season into autumn has affected your hormone production, in extreme cases such a situation could be called cli-“
Tachyon’s rant was cut short by a hand being placed over her hand, and an annoyed looking Pocket glaring down at her with furrowed brows and slightly parted lips.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Her hand stayed over Tachyon’s mouth until the girl slowly lowered her arms, at which point Pocket finally released her, though even so it was hesitantly. Only after did she take a moment to look Tachyon over, brilliant yellow eyes flickering up and down her frame.
The two of them were the same height – though Tachyon would argue she was precisely one centimetre taller than Pocket – and yet their bodies looked very different, with Tachyon having generally a more petite frame, which was no shock if anyone was to witness the sort of intensive training Pocket pushed herself to and the lack of any training at all that Tachyon partook in.
“You look…” Pocket hesitated for a couple of moments, as if turning the words over in her own mouth, chewing on them proper before she spewed out something stupid.
“… Good!” She settled. “You actually look good, though it’s… a little weird to see you out of uniform.”
As always, her honesty earned a bright smile from Tachyon, not entirely sincere but not completely faked either. It made Pocket stutter slightly.
“I mean, that’s, it’s even more of a reason why I need to drag you out! I only ever see you in school, and that’s depressing!” She fussed over her own words despite Tachyon not uttering a word about it, and if anything, it was even more charming.
Charming?
Well… Why not? Jungle Pocket was… charming, when she stumbled over herself like this looking for the right word, her usual fiery and passionate personality that let her speak so freely having had a bucket of ice-cold water thrown on it amidst the unfamiliar situation.
Tachyon couldn’t say that she was any different at the moment.
“Come on!”
With a final huff, the two of them set off side by side outside of the Tracen Academy gates, heading straight for that city not too far off where they could get lost amidst busy streets and get their senses assaulted by thousands of neon signs and different smells of fresh food and sweets wafting from shops and street side vendors.
Tachyon had been born and lived in the city her entire life, yet she wasn’t so used to the hubbub of it all like you might expect. She spent most of her time indoors even in her youth, and any shopping she had to do was usually accomplished through the internet.
Meanwhile Pocket, despite not being a native to this city, felt more at home than ever. Of course, someone like her was just bound to feed off of the chaotic energy around, find herself more at peace in the middle of busy crosswalks than humble and quiet rural surroundings, making for some lively company as the two girls traversed the city.
Of course, Pocket knew exactly which path to take to the arcade, taking Tachyon between less travelled alleys nestled amidst apartment complexes, dry, red leaves crunching under both of their steps until they finally entered that arcade. Pink light immediately bathed both of them, and music coming from all sorts of different games hit against one another in a cacophony that was unpleasant yet not as annoying as Tachyon had expected it to be.
Her ears twitched and turned towards the sounds, meanwhile Pocket looked to be a lot less reactive to it all.
“First of all, crane game!” Pocket announced as they stepped up and emerged among line after line of arcade machines placed one after the other, some more compact, others outright ridiculous in their size.
“I always win at those, and it’s a good way to start off!” She stretched both arms above her head, a bright grin gracing her features.
Tachyon thought she looked far better like this then with the angry furrow of her brows and pout that she had prior.
“Then, we’ll go to the shooting game, then there’s this rhythm one that Dantsu kills at and I have to beat her score! There’s also-“
Red eyes followed Pocket’s gestures and lips as they moved incessantly, telling her all about the games that she wanted to play whilst she was here, a thought at the back of Tachyon’s mind chastising her for wasting her time coming here just so Pocket could play her silly games, but… Well, maybe she could find something to enjoy for herself in here too. Make an observation or two about adrenaline levels and how it affects Umamusume outside of running, see how many of the high scores in the arcade were held by Umamusume rather than humans, making their bodies ideal not only for athletic pursuits but even for insignificant little activities such as this.
Surely not everything would be useless.
And so, they started.
“Usually,” Pocket began, one of her hands clasped around a rather large joystick, the other hovering above a button as both girls watched a claw move around an empty space above a foam pit filled with plushies that sprouted up here and there. “they tie some of the plushies together with ribbon, and if you’re lucky you can get a huge lineup of three plushies at a time, but if they’re too heavy then the ribbon can come loose and you’ll just drop everything.”
The excitement with which Pocket explained the game to her made Tachyon hum, one of her hands resting behind her back while the other came to press against her chin and bellow her bottom lip.
“Interesting… An ingenious way to make people engage in risk-seeking behaviours while pursuing bigger prizes, even though the most logical option would be to go for smaller and fewer toys in order to prevent the claw from dropping them.” She analysed the game as she would anything else, though her words didn’t get the same confused and slightly scared look from Pocket as they normally would, in part because she was rather concentrated on the game.
“Yeah, but that’s no fun! I mean, sure you can get one tiny thing, but what if you do win three plushies in one go?” She had lined up the claw and dropped it, grabbing two plushies at once, but they somehow slipped the claw’s grasp before they could even get all that close to the chute. Pocket let out an annoyed groan as the claw reset and she got her second try.
“Precisely what the creators of the game would want you to think, I assume.”
Tachyon would hum and yet lean even closer to the glass of the machine so that she could watch intently that not-quite-robotic claw as it closed on yet another plushies head, dragged it up, and managing to get it close to the chute, but it had bumped against the side and slipped away at the last second.
Another, angrier groan and a “Come on!” as Pocket moved onto her third attempt.
This time, she reached for a plushy that was close to the chute already. A figure that resembled pretty well their brown-haired president, complete with her typical running silks and all, her round head squished by the claw and dragged upwards. To her tiny leg was tied a plushy of her most impressive progeny, one Tokai Teio. And to Tokai Teio, Special Week. Tachyon almost expected this snake of praise-worthy Umamusume to continue even past that, yet Special Week was indeed the last in the row.
The tower of plushies wobbled and swung around as the claw began to move towards the chute, with Pocket muttering encouragements towards the machine, a rather odd trait that Tachyon was quick to make a note of.
Was it instinct to pamper these inanimate objects, in hopes that they would “behave” and thus grant them more prizes?
Whilst an amusing and entirely useless act, Tachyon couldn’t help feeling the need to partake in it as well as the claw got close to the chute, the last plushy of Special Week catching on the prior failed attempt for a moment, making it look like everything might just slip and fall, though somehow, it held on. Passing the small hurdle, all three of the plushies managed to tumble down, earning an immediate, excited scream from Pocket.
“Yes!” She threw both hands in the air and then scrambled down to collect her winnings, while Tachyon straightened herself back up and stepped away from where she’d been breathing against the glass so close that she left a small circle of fog behind.
“Well, I’ll be. Quite a lucky turnout, isn’t it?” She congratulated Pocket by even offering her a few claps, watching as the girl stood back up with all three toys held to her chest in one arm, the other pointed proudly at her chest.
“Not luck, this is all me, right here!”
She was beaming. So much so that Tachyon’s own smile couldn’t help from softening.
“… Of course.”
All of a sudden, the stitched-on smiling visage of Symboli Rudolf took up Tachyon’s entire field of vision, Pocket’s hand holding it by it’s tiny body, shaking the plushy.
“Here.” She placed it forcefully in Tachyon’s hand, making the girl grasp it instinctively, the smile on her face wiped for a more shocked expression to take its place.
“This one’s yours.” She offered Tachyon another bright grin where she showed off her teeth while sliding her backpack around to the front, allowing her to open it up and stuff it with her winnings, which she would have quite a hard time hauling around otherwise.
Tachyon took that brief pause to stare at the toy in her hands, a little confused and not particularly thrilled by its chibi-like appearance which she recognised was supposed to make the toy cute, yet to her it had no particular effect on her mood. No, the toy did nothing to her, rather…
“A thoughtful gesture, but I have no use for toys or decorative plushies such as this, I fear it will do no good in my hands.”
“Oh, just shut up and keep it anyway. Memento of your first time at the arcade, or whatever.”
Pocket’s refusal to take it back was the thing that made her heart flutter, just the tiniest bit, her arm outstretched to hand her the toy but Pocket blatantly pushed it away from her, forcing Tachyon to take it back. She didn’t really have where to put it, she didn’t exactly feel like propping it on her bed in the dorms on account of her nosy room-mate which will surely make up quite a few wild stories about the toy’s sudden appearance, but…
Maybe if she just stayed away for a few days, that Agnes Digital could just find something else to occupy her time with and forget all about this strange new trinket.
“… So be it. Since you’re so insistent.”
The toy was finally accepted and shoved within Tachyon’s bag, too small to hold the entire plush but just big enough for its body at least, making it so Tachyon could zip it halfway and just have the head of it dangle out, moving along with each step the girl took as they moved from machine to machine.
There were a couple that didn’t quite interest her, truth be told, such as the fighting games that were more so a test of how fast one could press their buttons before their opponent, or the racing games that weren’t even close to replicating the same adrenaline one got from racing themselves, though Pocket’s favourites weren’t half bad.
The shooting one was quite an interesting exercise for hand-eye coordination improvement, so much so that Tachyon insisted on playing about three rounds herself before she had to be pried away from it, all while rambling about how the effects had been near instant and each turn her reaction time continued to improve, wondering if given enough time she could achieve the statistically fastest way of completing every level within the game to the point where her high score could never be replicated.
Pocket should have expected such a reaction, truth be told, and she said as much.
“Man, you find a way to tie your research into anything, don’t you?” She shook her head, though her lips were curved into a pretty impressed smile as she thought back to how quick Tachyon was to pick up on all the little tricks of the game, which was also quite annoying, too. Was she this perfect at everything?
“Why, of course!”
Tachyon’s eyes still sparkled with delight as they headed away from that arcade game, past families that had come here with their children and past other teenagers that were similarly spending time together with their friends, playing games and such.
“But only because I chose such a broad subject to research, of course. The improvement of ones body and the pursuit of breaking limits can be applied to any context, it’s simply that mine is more interested in the physical boundaries, but one could have the same pursuit in pushing one’s mental intelligence.” She explained so very enthusiastically, her eccentric manner of speech drawing an eye or two her way, though anyone who did recognize her knew better than to interrupt.
“I, myself, am satisfied with my mental performance, and find no reason to research it any further, mainly because I think it’s a straight-forward line, as compared to my current project.” Only when Tachyon finished explaining everything did she finally turn her face to look over towards Pocket, who’d been suspiciously quiet until now, letting out none of the expected groans or comments about how she didn’t get what Tachyon was saying anyway.
Even after she’d finished and turned her gaze to the other girl, she still didn’t say much, merely staring at Tachyon with this particular, crooked little smile on her face.
“Is something the matter?”
“No, no… Not at all.”
Pocket’s cheeks were coloured a faint rosy hue that got lost underneath the neon lights of the arcade, though her nervousness was still evident in how her eyes darted away from Tachyon after speaking and her hands quickly balled up into fists inside the pockets of her jacket.
“I kinda like it when you ramble like that.” Her voice was soft when she spoke again, almost too quiet for Tachyon to pick up over the multitude of pings and pangs echoing around them. “It gets me all pumped up too, since I guess our goals are pretty similar and all.”
Another beat passed before Tachyon replied.
“I suppose they are.” Her own lips turned upward into a gentle smile, her ears twitching, now no longer following every single buzz she heard as she’s gotten used to the atmosphere, though the one closest to Pocket still turned once her loud voice broke the strange haze that had settled over them both.
“Right! Next, I want to try the rhythm game!”
The rhythm game was maybe not the best way to describe it, as sprinkled all around the establishment were closer to fifty different such games, some with the typical button-mashing playstyle, while others were more interesting. Thankfully, Dantsu appeared to have at least a little taste considering that she picked one of the more intense games, the sort where a pad was laid on the ground and the player needed to dance along to the music to press every note right, a small crowd always appearing to circle those particular machines.
Neither girl minded it, if anything it was quite obvious that the more eyes that stared at her, the more fired up Pocket got to beat that stupid high score set by her friend. Meanwhile, Tachyon was busy with commentating how this, too, was great exercise for the body and some competent training for their winning lives that they had to perform, though when she got the chance to try it for herself, she was less than enthused about it.
The other sorts of rhythm games that caught her eye were one comprised of an actual drum that the player had to beat in the right rhythm and in the right parts according to coloured circles on a screen, and once again Pocket was quite adept at that one, while Tachyon got tired of it quickly. The one she did stick with for a while was one with a round screen that looked a tiny bit like a washing machine, its rim all one touch-sensitive pad that the player had to hit as notes approached on the beat to often times quite high energy songs. That one proved to be a bit more difficult for Pocket, while Tachyon played with little difficulty, even laughing along with it and explaining to Pocket that it was akin to other simple reaction-based rhythm games from before, though far more engaging due to the slightly stranger mechanics.
Once more, Pocket had to pry her away after finishing her fourth song, or they would have stayed at that same machine until closing time came around.
Not that Pocket didn’t like watching Tachyon have fun, in fact she was happy to even see her engage at all with the games, having expected her to be more of a spectator that followed Pocket around, maybe pestered her a little, and then huffed about being allowed to head back and continue her research. Instead, she remained and played a couple more games herself, her interest having been piqued by the handful of enjoyable experiences that she had, only agreeing to leave once the loud noises and crowded space began to finally tire her out.
The sun outside was setting, the city’s busy streets now filled not with young folk enjoying their free afternoons but slightly more tired office workers heading back home and shop owners closing up for the night, only leaving the typical chain convenience stores to fulfil the needs of late shoppers.
Pocket yawned and stretched her arms above her head, as she often did, while her and Tachyon walked away from the arcade.
“Damn, I didn’t think we stayed that long…” She mumbled, jostling around the backpack hanging off of her back, only one of its straps properly placed on her shoulders, dragged down by the weight added from the few prizes that the two won.
Tachyon had her phone held in one hand while walking along the sidewalk, staring at a pitch-black screen that displayed the current time in bold white letters.
“Yes, it seems we spent-“ Pocket tugged on Tachyon’s arm gently, pulling her out of the way of an incoming pole. “about four hours inside of the arcade. I suspect the lack of windows or clocks did warp our sense of time, a tactic similarly used by casinos in order to get its customers to spend more time inside without worrying of outside responsibilities.”
Pocket’s eyebrows furrowed at the not very unusual out of left field explanation that Tachyon gave, waiting until she placed her phone back into her pocket and stared ahead once more before asking: “How the hell do you know that?”
“Oh, my dear Pocket, it’s easy! This is basic information, you could easily find it with a simple search on the internet.” Smugness lined Tachyon’s words, a chuckle vibrating in the girl’s throat, but Pocket didn’t get quite as annoyed at it as she used to.
That high and mighty behaviour that Tachyon always displayed, her haughty tone of voice, even the perpetual smile on her face, the more time she spent with the girl the more those aspects appeared… normal. For her, at least. It came to a point where Pocket would probably be more worried about receiving a normal answer from her.
“Yeah, well, whatever...” Pocket dismissed her, but not in a particularly mean way, merely brushing aside the subject and moving onto something else, such as the growling of her stomach that was far too loud to be ignored. Right, this was usually the time that she had dinner together with Fuji and Tanabe, though she’s already told them she’s not very likely to get home by the time they eat and to go on ahead without her. That left…
“I’m starving. Let’s go get some ramen.”
Convincing Tachyon to eat with her would not be easy, but it was worth a shot.
Or, so she thought.
“Hmm… Do you know any places nearby that are good?”
Instead, Tachyon agreed almost immediately. One thoughtful hum, and she was in, little to no questions asked besides the obvious of where they’d be eating. It left Pocket scrambling a little, truth be told, stuttering as she stared in near shock at the girl for a good handful of seconds.
“I don’t enjoy the fatty sort, other than that I have no preferences.” Tachyon’s head turned just in time to catch a brief glimpse of those wide eyes and mouth agape, right before Pocket gathered herself a little and closed her mouth, turning to look right back ahead of them. She knew the area they were in pretty well, on account to coming here often with her group of friends, and she knew a couple spots they could go to, but one that wasn’t greasy or fatty like Tachyon requested surely did narrow them down a little.
“I mean, there is this restaurant nearby, but… it’s not really on the cheaper side of things.”
Was Pocket really worried about her money right now? Tachyon couldn’t help giggling to herself at the thought, especially when the same girl, without a single complaint, paid for every single game that they enjoyed in the arcade, to the point where even someone as spoiled as Tachyon felt a bit bad about it.
“There’s no need to worry about that!” She brushed Pocket’s words aside carelessly, a certain prideful look on her face as she raised one hand up to press against her puffed out chest.
“I will be taking care of payment this time around.”
Pocket almost didn’t believe it for a moment, thought Tachyon was going to cheat her out of her money as some sort of messed up prank, and yet still she went along with it. Muttering a final agreement between a weak sort of chuckle, Pocket took the lead and guided the girl towards the restaurant she spoke of, still quite a quaint place overall, with traditional drapery acting as an entrance that both girls had to push aside before making their way inside and settling in a small booth in the corner.
The waitress came and went, each time taking their menus with her, the two girls quick to decide on what they wanted and then go on to sit in silence for most of the wait. Maybe they were really just quite tired, but it wasn’t so bad, Tachyon thought. The atmosphere wasn’t heavy nor awkward, but rather comfortable instead, about as warm as the steam rising from the kitchen’s directions and the bowls of other customers having their own meals, the scent of food lingering in the air, so heavy with the meat and spices used in their dishes that Tachyon could almost taste it on her tongue already.
Pocket was occupied staring at some picture hung up on the wall near the entrance, both of her hands tucked underneath her thighs, her shoulders tense and head leaned slightly forwards. One of her legs was shaking, Tachyon could tell from the way it made her entire body jitter slightly, her half pinned up hair bouncing along with the subtle movements.
It was as if Pocket didn’t even notice her staring, perhaps on account of how often Tachyon did stare, but this time it really felt far more pointed than other times. Tachyon wasn’t just looking her way, watching her, she was… almost admiring Pocket. The brown-blonde gradient of her hair, the curve of her slightly puffed out cheeks as she concentrated, her dark lashes and how they cast a shadow over her sparkling eyes, slightly red around the edges from the artificial light, much like Tachyon’s own ones, no doubt.
She wasn’t ugly at all. Furthermore, Tachyon could even make an argument that Pocket was very attractive with her particular wild charm, the sort of people that liked that sort of image would be sure to enjoy staring at her in a ramen shop while waiting for their orders.
“Her eye’s crooked.”
The sudden comment made Tachyon snap out of her trance, her eyebrows furrowing for a moment in confusion before her head turned and her eyes followed towards where Pocket was staring.
“Do you see it? The right one… our right.”
Indeed, the traditional style of painting that decorated the restaurant depicted a woman cooking, supposedly preparing ramen considering the place it had been brought to, and her left eye was just a bit crooked, tilted in a way that made it appear ever so slightly out of place.
Both girls attempted to tilt their heads slightly with the eye, trying to see if it would fix the issue, but its strange appearance persisted.
“It really is.”
Their strange fixation with the painting was interrupted when two bowls of ramen were placed in front of them finally, steam rising from its orange coloured soup, greens, pork meat, mushrooms and a marinated egg cut in half all placed perfectly in order around the small mountain of noodles that arose in the middle.
“Thank you”s pointed at the waitress quickly turned into the typical wishing for a good appetite before eating as both girls grabbed their utensils in hand and dug into their bowls, Pocket being a little messier than Tachyon, though their eagerness was visible in equal amounts. Tachyon’s cheeks were just as full as Pocket’s, the girl expertly choosing equal amounts of vegetables, meat and noodles to shove into her mouth with each bite, while Pocket, less preoccupied with getting the perfect bite each time, devoured whatever was in front of her mouth first.
Pocket’s lips were stained from the spices used by the end of it far more than Tachyon’s, despite having to wipe her mouth after every bite she took, once even having to swipe at her nose for a rogue drop that had somehow splashed up there.
They were a sight to behold, to say the least. Not an unusual one, mind you, considering that they were Umamusume and their appetites were always a little more fearsome than those of their human counterparts.
Their bowls were wiped clean in what must have been not even a ten minute interval, both of them licking their lips, wiping their cheeks, with Pocket quick to lean back against her seat’s cushion, letting out a long sigh of relief at having filled up that void in her stomach.
“That was really good…”
Tachyon paid for their meal shortly after under the bashful gaze of Pocket, who she could tell felt a little bad about letting her friend pick up their tab like that and yet she’s already announced that she would be the one to pay, so…
There were very little words exchanged from that point onward, both of them simply walking along the streets, bathed in the yellow light of the early sunset and the chill of an autumn evening as temperatures began to steadily drop, crunchy leaves flying around ahead of them, caught in dry breezes that swept them off the branches they were once hanging off of. Tracen Academy was similarly covered in the dead and dying greenery, an unusual quiet hush covering the entire area, no students in sight as the sound of two pairs of footsteps approached the dorms.
“If I remember correctly, you do not stay in the dorms typically?” Tachyon spoke only once they reached the front of her dorm building, large doors waiting for them to push open, though instead the brown-haired girl that had walked ahead, stopped, and turned around to look towards Pocket, who froze only two steps behind with a slightly strange, flustered look on her face.
Her words, similarly, came out in a handful of stutters at first, strange sounds that meant nothing, her arms growing rigid with her hands still resting into her pockets, the entire upper half of her body turning left and right as if looking around might make her come upon the correct answer in the moment.
“Well, no, but…” Except there was no correct answer, and even if there was, Pocket would not be able to reach it in such a situation, where she could both see and feel Tachyon’s gaze burning a hole through her. It was as if the intensity of her deep crimson coloured irises had been exacerbated by the warm light of the sun, making them shine.
“I don’t believe my injury is so severe that you need to worry about me not making it home, if that is what you were thinking.” Her smooth voice easily traversed the quiet plane of the school campus, her smile going from the typically eerie sort to something more playful, though for some unbeknownst reason that only made it harder for Pocket to look at Tachyon.
“Wha- No! Of course not!” She immediately denied the thought that she would ever undermine the other girl like that, but her stiff, uncomfortable position did not shift at all. Not until her brain finally managed to come up with what she deemed as a worthy enough explanation to mutter out past ramen-flavoured lips and flushed, freckled cheeks.
“I guess I just… Wanted to walk you home. It’s the nice thing to do, right?”
It is, Tachyon thought.
“I suppose Fuji Kiseki’s influence was bound to rub off on you sooner or later.” She teased, and in turn earned a small scoff from Pocket, whose shoulders finally dropped into a more comfortable slope at last.
“Aw, c’mon…”
“Regardless.”
Tachyon spoke just a little louder than before, demanding that Pocket turn her head around to look towards where Tachyon stood, three stairs higher up than she was, with one hand absentmindedly rubbing at the ear of the plushie still sticking out of her small bag, as it had been the entire day.
“Thank you.”
Simple and direct, with not a hint of something more hidden beneath her words. Tachyon’s sincerity was somehow worse than the opposite. It took Pocket’s breath away for just a brief moment.
“For getting me to the dorms safely. And for today.” Tachyon’s head bowed ever so subtly, her smile widening and her gaze shifting beyond where Pocket stood, to the large walnut tree not far away from her. It made it easier to speak if she couldn’t see the adoration with which Pocket watched her, though she still caught glimpses of it from the corner of her eye.
“I had very low expectations, if truth be told. I only went because I knew you were very likely to keep your word about dragging me out yourself, but, the arcade turned out to be more interesting than I had anticipated.”
Tachyon’s expectations for finding any sort of entertainment at the arcade, if she was to calculate it before leaving, would have most likely been bellow the 50% mark, and yet she still went. Maybe because of the reason she stated, but maybe she’d simply done it for Pocket. It wouldn’t be the first time as of late that the girl skews Tachyon’s typical judgement and makes her act so… out of character.
“A lot of the games could actually be used as some form of training for the minor details that our typical exercises don’t cover as concisely. I’d be very curious to see how an Umamusume trained entirely using a regimen made up of those games would look like.”
There was an immediate laugh from Pocket once Tachyon finished speaking, almost as if relieved to see the girl talking more similarly to how she normally did, one of her hands coming up to cover her mouth, and then scratch at her cheek as she nodded her head.
“I guess, if you look at it like that…” Pocket’s tone was light, yet for some reason it made this heaviness manifest in Tachyon’s gut.
“Of course, it was also fun.” Tachyon’s hands gripped at the strap crossing over her chest with both hands, fingers absent-mindedly pinching and digging with her nail against the stitching that she could feel. Her eyes once more fell low to the few steps remaining between them.
“Too bad you couldn’t beat Dantsu Flame’s high-score at the end, hm? Maybe next time.”
Pocket’s ears twitched. It was as if she didn’t quite believe what she heard, and yet she was so quick to perk up because of it regardless, her chin raising a little higher, head tilting ever so slightly.
“You mean…” She trailed off, her eyes searching Tachyon’s for the brief pause that followed, and when Tachyon looked back a wicked grin broke out over her features, near bursting with joy.
“Yeah! Next time, for sure!”
Pocket was nearly hopping on the spot as she celebrated quietly the confirmation that she will get another chance to drag Tachyon out of her laboratory like she’d managed to do today, spinning on her heel shortly after and starting her light jog back towards the riverside where trainer Tanabe’s house waited for her arrival. A gentle: “See you later, Tachyon!” echoed slightly as the girl walked away, half turned towards her friend so that she could wave at her ecstatically, and though Tachyon didn’t return the gesture, she hardly appeared to mind.
She blazed trough the gates with a newfound energy that left an unusually subtle smile on Tachyon’s face, to see Pocket so sincerely happy to be in her presence, to have wasted their day away together in a way that most would consider normal for people their age.
To Tachyon, it was different. Special. Because Pocket was there. And she stayed there, willingly, to the point that her absence left a rather strange strain in Tachyon’s chest and an uncomfortable movie playing behind her eyes, all scenes of her newfound friend’s appearance throughout their outing, then the last week, month, so on, going further back still.
… What an unexpected discovery this turned out to be.
One that she, for once, could not bear the thought of putting into words or on paper. Perhaps it was better off that it remains this way, a faint whisper in her ear, an anxious feeling in her stomach, and a saccharine aftertaste that stuck to the insides of her mouth long after she’d made her way inside the dorms.