Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A sunlit living room in a modest house. A small TV sits on a low cabinet, showing a live Uma Musume race. Yasuaki (9) sits cross-legged on the floor, notebook in hand, jotting down notes about the racers. Yayoi (4) sits beside him, hat perched slightly crooked on her head, bouncing with excitement.

Yayoi: Onii-chan! Hurry, hurry! The race is starting!

Yasuaki: (without looking up, pen poised)Almost ready. Let’s see… this is the Geoffrey Freer Stakes — tough field. Look, Opale is in the outside lane again. She’ll need to conserve energy for the final push.

Yayoi: (tilting her head )Outside lane… that sounds tricky. Can she still win?

Yasuaki: (smiling confidently )She can. I’ve studied her past races. Her stamina is incredible, and her finishing speed is her biggest advantage. That’s why I’m taking notes — every detail matters.

Yayoi: (giggles)Onii-chan, you’re like a real trainer!

The announcer’s voice booms from the TV as the gates open. All the Uma Musume burst forward with power and precision.

Announcer (TV): And they’re off! A thrilling start in the Geoffrey Freer Stakes as all competitors surge ahead! Keep an eye on Opale — her late kick could decide the race!

Yayoi: (clapping )Go, Opale! You can do it!

Yasuaki: (pointing at the screen, notebook ready )See? She’s pacing herself perfectly. The frontrunners are fast, but Opale is holding back, saving her energy for the home stretch. Watch her stride — subtle but powerful.

Yayoi leans forward, eyes wide. Yasuaki scribbles observations about stride length, stamina, and track positioning.

Yayoi: Onii-chan, she’s moving faster now! Look at her go!

Yasuaki: (nodding, focused )Exactly. That’s her signal — time to sprint. Notice how she angles slightly outward on the turn? That reduces friction and keeps her momentum.

Yayoi: (jumping up )Faster, Opale! Go, go, go!

The camera on TV zooms in as Opale overtakes the lead, her hooves thundering in rhythm. Yasuaki scribbles one final note

Yasuaki: Perfect timing. That’s textbook pacing strategy — she’s using her stamina reserve for the final burst. Opale is brilliant in this race.

Yayoi: (hugging him )Onii-chan, you know everything! You’re amazing!”

Yasuaki:( laughs softly, ruffling her hat)Not everything, but enough to cheer properly. Every detail counts, Yayoi. That’s why races are exciting — timing, stamina, and heart make all the difference.

Opale crosses the finish line first. Yayoi squeals and bounces, hat wobbling. Yasuaki closes his notebook with a proud smile.

Yayoi: (clapping loudly)She won! She really won!

Yasuaki: (smiling, tapping his notebook) As expected. My analysis is always on point.

Yayoi: (hugging his arm, eyes shining) Onii-chan, you’re amazing! I wish I could quickly grow up and take over Mother’s Academy, just like the people on TV!

Yasuaki: (raises a brow, amused) That’s a very ambitious wish, Yayoi. Do you know what you’d have to go through first?

Yayoi: (tilting her head, hat wobbling) Um… learn a lot?

Yasuaki: (chuckling softly) More than that. Running an academy isn’t just about cheering Uma Musume or watching races. You’d need to understand training methods, keep records, manage staff… and there’s also money.

Yayoi: (puffs her cheeks, crossing her arms) Money?

Yasuaki: (nodding) Yes. Funds. Every race, every Uma Musume’s training, every facility upgrade — it all costs something. Without proper support, even the strongest Uma Musume can’t reach her full potential.

Yayoi: (frowning a little, then brightening up quickly) Then I’ll study hard! And I’ll save money in my piggy bank too!

Yasuaki: (snorts, shaking his head) I don’t think you could save enough by the time you grow up. Not unless your piggy bank is secretly a treasure chest.

Yayoi pauses, scrunching her face in deep thought. Then her eyes light up like she just discovered the ultimate secret technique.

Yayoi: (excitedly) Oh! Oh! If that’s not enough… how about Onii-chan makes some gambling in horse races! You always guess the winners, right? Then you can win money and support my dream!

Yasuaki freezes, blinks once, then slowly turns his head toward her, expression flat as a tatami mat and surprise.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) …Yayoi. You’re four. Who on earth influenced your head with that idea?

Yayoi: (cheerfully, without hesitation)Father.

Yasuaki’s eyebrow twitches. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing with the heavy air of a man twice his age.

Yasuaki: (mumbling darkly) …When that old geezer comes back from work, he’s going to get an earful from me.

Yayoi: (tilting her head, tugging at his sleeve) Then what should I do, Onii-chan?

Yasuaki exhales, the sternness in his eyes softening as he pats her head, adjusting her hat so it sits properly again.

Yasuaki: (gently but firmly) That’s not something a little kid should be thinking of for now. Gambling and money — leave that to adults. What you should focus on is studying, learning, and growing stronger.

Yayoi: (blinking up at him, curious)Studying?

Yasuaki: (nodding, calm and thoughtful) Yes. If you really want to take over Mother’s academy one day, then you’ll need more than just big dreams. We can ask Mother to help find sponsors to support the Academy, and in the meantime, you should continue your education. That’s how you’ll be ready for the future.

Yayoi: (grinning brightly, bouncing a little)So if I study lots and learn, I can make Mother proud and make Onii-chan proud too?

Yasuaki: (smiling faintly, ruffling her hair again) Exactly. That’s the proper way forward. Leave the worrying to me, and you just keep being yourself — that’s more than enough for now.

Yayoi beams, hugging his arm tightly. The TV replays Opale’s victory, the crowd cheering in the background.

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(Time skip — Nine years later)

The office of Tracen Academy’s Director had grown into a bustling center of paperwork, phone calls, and endless strategy meetings. Sunlight streamed in through tall windows, glinting off neatly organized files and the polished wooden desk where Yayoi Akikawa, now 13 years old , seating down  with refined poise, discussed matters with Tazuna Hayakawa.

Tazuna: (straightening her clipboard, voice crisp) Director Yayoi, if we allocate the next round of funds toward the south training tracks, it’ll maximize usage before autumn. Shall I prepare the approval papers?

Yayoi: (nodding firmly, flipping a page of documents) Yes, do that. We can’t afford inefficiency — the trainees are our future.

But then, both women’s focus is broken by a sound. A faint snore. A book slides off the arm of a couch with a dull thud. They both glance over, their brows twitching in perfect unison.

There, sprawled without a care in the world, was Yasuaki Akikawa. At 18, the boy who once furiously scribbled race notes with starry eyes now lay half-asleep, a book about “Advanced Sports Dynamics” resting face-down on his chest like a shield. His long legs dangled off the couch, one arm thrown dramatically over his eyes as if warding off sunlight.

Yayoi: (muttering under her breath, irritation sharp but tinged with familiarity)…Honestly. Two years, and you’re still glued to that couch.

Tazuna: I’ll admit, it’s… impressive he managed to graduate at sixteen with those top marks. But this  (gesturing at his sleeping form) was not what I pictured from Tracen’s ‘young prodigy.’

Yayoi crosses her arms, her expression cooling into something halfway between sibling exasperation and professional disappointment.

Yayoi: (sigh) Graduated early, praised as a genius, and then… nothing. He became a trainee, and instead of actively training Uma Musume, he naps through half his day. If Mother could see this right now…

She stood up and  sharply walked  toward the couch, hands on her hips, glaring down at her older brother.

Yayoi: Oi, onii-chan. Wake up.

From the couch comes a muffled, inaudible mumble. His hand twitches, half-swiping at the air like he’s batting away a fly. Yayoi’s mouth curls into a dangerous little smile — the smile of a younger sister whose patience has officially expired. A vein practically pulses on her forehead.

Yayoi: I said…

She raises her leg, casting a shadow over his peaceful slumber. Tazuna, across the desk, instinctively straightens her clipboard as if bracing for impact.

Yayoi: (voice booming)TO WAKE UP, DIDN’T I?!

Her heel comes crashing down on Yasuaki’s stomach. There’s a comical PFFFFF sound as the air escapes his lungs. Yasuaki’s whole body jerks upright like a spring-loaded doll, eyes wide The book that had slid onto the floor earlier bounces once, landing back on his lap.

Yasuaki: (rubbing his stomach, groaning) Must you be that violent on your brother, Yayoi?

Yayoi folds her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

Yayoi:Violent? You call spending half your life on this couch, doing nothing but reading old books and napping, ‘work’? I didn’t hire you to slack off, Onii-chan. I hired you to train Uma Musume!

Yasuaki groans dramatically, rolling onto his side slightly, speaking in a mock-sad tone.

Yasuaki:Tazuna-chan… my little sister is mad at me again.

Tazuna: (dryly, folding her arms) …You do realize she’s the director now, right? And you’re the employee?

Yasuaki: (waving a hand weakly, whining) Exactly! That’s why I need moral support. I can’t face her wrath alone. She’s terrifying when she’s serious.

Yayoi, arms crossed and lips tight, walks over with measured but unstoppable authority. Her heels click sharply on the polished floor.

Yayoi: Enough of your nonsense, Onii-chan. Out. Of. My office.

Tazuna:Director Yayoi, maybe we can—

Yayoi: (cutting her off, irritation flaring, though there’s a hint of familial fondness) No, Tazuna. He’s spent two years here avoiding work, and last year I took over this Academy from Mother. He needs to understand — respect isn’t optional.

Yasuaki is seen stepping out of the office, shoulders relaxed though his expression carries a subtle weight. His footsteps echo lightly as he walks through the quieter hallways of Tracen Academy, eventually reaching a shaded stairwell outside. He lowers himself onto the stone steps, letting out a soft exhale as if leaving the office drama behind.

Yasuaki: (muttering to himself, almost absentmindedly) Well… she’ll forgive me eventually.

He continues walking, eventually finding a quiet stairwell tucked behind the main building. He sits down, back against the wall, one leg bent, the other stretched lazily. From this vantage point, he can watch the Academy go about its business without being disturbed.

His mind drifts, as it often does, to a conversation  a year ago , one with his stepmother. She had been kind, patient, yet firm, insisting he take the Academy as a heritage, believing someone as capable as him should lead. But Yasuaki had hesitated. He knew someone else — someone less brilliant in theory but perfect in spirit — would thrive in the role. Still, his stepmother had insisted. A son of intellect must lead. That was why he was here today… quietly allowing his younger half-sister, Yayoi, to take the position.

Yasuaki: (thoughtfully, whispering)Did I let this happen for her benefit… or for mine? She always dreamed of this role, yes… but maybe it’s satisfying, seeing her take it, while I… remain on the sidelines.

He leans his head back, staring at the ceiling. His stepmother had always treated him like her own son — warm, caring, and yet expectant. And Yayoi… she had inherited the ambition that burned in her mother’s eyes.

A sudden tap of cold water on his cheek jolted him awake. Yasuaki jerked upright, blinking rapidly, his hair damp and sticking slightly to his forehead. The stairwell seemed to spin for a moment as he tried to process the shock.

Standing above him, a wide grin on her face, was Teio. Her hands were perched on her hips.

Teio:Surprise! Didn’t expect to find you sulking here. You really are predictable, Yasuaki.

Yasuaki: (wiping his cheek, chuckling softly, a faint grin tugging at his lips)Teio… you never change. Always direct, always… energetic. And apparently, always armed with cold water.

Teio: (teasingly)Someone had to wake you up before you melted into the stairs. I was worried you’d nap yourself into next week.

Yasuaki: (leaning back, smirking, voice light but thoughtful)You’d do that. That’s why I’ve always liked having you around. So… how are you? How’s your training going, and your current trainer?

Teio: (perking up, pride in her voice)We’re doing really well! My trainer pushes me harder than I expected… and I’ve grown more than I thought possible. Every day’s a challenge, but it’s worth it.

Yasuaki: (nodding, expression softening, voice quieter) I’m glad. You’ve always had that fire, Teio. I just hope no one ever dims it.

There’s a brief pause. Teio notices a shadow in his eyes, an unusual stillness beneath his usual teasing demeanor.

Teio: That face… you have something on your mind? Are you bothered by something?

Yasuaki: (sighing, running a hand through his hair, voice light but a hint of amusement) Well… my little sister kicked me out of the office again. Apparently, it’s because I haven’t trained any Uma Musume.

Teio: (raising an eyebrow, smirking slightly) Really? And here I thought she’d mellowed out since becoming director.

Yasuaki: (grinning faintly, leaning back against the stair railing) Not a chance. She’s ruthless when it comes to responsibility. But… I guess it’s fair. I did promise to do the job.

Teio: (nudging him playfully) So… you’re sulking here instead?

Yasuaki: (mock offense, but clearly joking)Sulking? No. Strategically taking a break to observe the Academy in peace. Genius work requires patience, after all.

Teio: (laughing softly, splashing a bit of water on his cheek again) Strategic or not, you need to get moving before she finds you and really scolds you.

Yasuaki: (wiping his cheek, voice calm, thoughtful)I know. But… sometimes it’s worth sitting back for a moment. Watching things, letting others act. Gives perspective. Even if it makes me look lazy.

Yasuaki: (wiping his cheek, voice calm and thoughtful)I know. But… sometimes it’s worth sitting back for a moment. Watching things, letting others act. Gives perspective. Even if it makes me look lazy. You know what they called me during my college days, don’t you?

Teio: (tilting her head, curious)Hmm… I think I’ve heard a few nicknames, yeah, but… not all of them. What did they call you?

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly, leaning back against the stair railing)Ah… well, a few stick out. Some called me ‘The Couch-bound Genius,’ others whispered ‘The Sleepwalking Strategist.’ And… more than one professor jokingly referred to me as ‘The Perpetual Observer.’

Teio: (raising an eyebrow, trying to imagine him like that)Couch-bound genius… Sleepwalking strategist… sounds like someone who naps through lectures.

Yasuaki: (chuckling softly, voice low)Appearances can be deceiving. Before I got labeled lazy, I had a reputation for being… thorough. Obsessed with patterns, probabilities, and predictive modeling. My professors would assign complex problems on motion, trajectory, and biomechanics, and I’d solve them in ways that… frankly, confused most of the class.

Teio: (leaning closer, intrigued but slightly wary)Confused… how?

Yasuaki: (grinning faintly, his gaze drifting toward the sunlit courtyard)Imagine this ,I’d calculate the angular momentum of a moving body, say a sprinter’s stride, while simultaneously accounting for friction coefficients of the track surface, micro-fluctuations in air density, and the Coriolis effect caused by the Earth’s rotation. Then I’d model potential variations in muscle contraction at the microscopic level — and finally predict performance over multiple laps with stochastic approximations.

Teio: (blinking, tilting her head in disbelief)…Wait… what? You’re talking about physics… and biology… all at once?

Yasuaki: (noticing Teio’s wide-eyed stare, suddenly aware he might be boring her with excessive technicalities)…Ah. Sorry. I sometimes get carried away babbling in my own words. I tend to… over-explain.

Teio: (smiling faintly, teasing but curious) Over-explain? You mean… get lost in equations and physics for fun?

Yasuaki: (chuckling softly, shrugging)
Perhaps. I’ve always been fascinated by patterns, probabilities, mechanics… it’s almost reflexive. I can’t help it.

Teio: (tilting her head, gaze direct) Then… if you’re that good, Yasuaki… why don’t you train an Uma Musume yourself? You’ve clearly got the talent, the brain for it. So why stay on the sidelines?

Yasuaki leans back against the stair railing, exhaling slowly. His smirk softens, eyes drifting toward the distant track where the younger trainees are running drills.

Yasuaki: (thoughtful, calm) Because… sometimes the best way to guide isn’t to lead directly. I let others take the initiative, let them try things their way. Observing them… improvising, making mistakes, finding solutions… it tells me more than running their training myself ever could.

He glances at Teio, expecting some understanding nod, but instead sees her most fuming pout — arms crossed, cheeks slightly puffed in exasperation.

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, puzzled)Umm… Teio? Why the face?

Teio: (crossing her arms, pouting harder)You know… the reason. All I hear are excuses.

For a moment she softens, letting herself sit beside him on the stair. Her small sigh carries the weight of someone used to seeing him “hide” behind laziness, even if it’s deliberate.

Teio: (gently, almost teasing) Look… I know you’ve got reasons, Yasuaki. And maybe it is for people around you to improve. But still… sometimes, it feels like you’re just avoiding responsibility.

Yasuaki: (half-smiling, tilting his head toward her) I get it. But… letting others act, letting them improvise — that’s how people grow. Sometimes standing aside is more effective than jumping in.

Teio suddenly sits up straighter, a little fire returning to her expression.

Teio: You always make that sound so calm… but I bet you’re just trying to justify being lazy!

Then, with a small, self-conscious laugh, she mimics a dramatic tone.

Teio: As prez Rudolf , would say…' perseverance and adaptability are the keys to unlocking potential!’

Yasuaki: (chuckling, eyes lighting up) Ah! So that’s what this is. You’re trying to sound like Symboli Rudolf , and sneak her speeches into our conversation?

Teio: (blushing slightly, looking away but smirking) Maybe… don’t make fun of me! I just… wanted to make a point, okay? Senpai always inspires me to push harder, and I thought… maybe you could understand it too.

Yasuaki: (grinning faintly, teasing gently)Oh, I understand. You’ve wrapped your lecture in Rudolf-speech. Clever move. A little theatrical, but effective.

Teio gets up, brushing off her pants.

Teio: Anyway, I have to continue training. No time for couch philosophers today!

Yasuaki watches Teio disappear toward the track, her footsteps fading in the distance. He leans back for a moment, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.

He stretches, yawns, and then pushes himself up. Hands in pockets, his pace is slow, but his gaze sharp — scanning the training grounds with the air of a chess master studying pieces on a board.

Candidate 1: Gold Ship

Near the far corner of the field, Gold Ship is lying on the grass, one leg stretched in the air, humming some nonsense tune instead of training. A coach yells at her from afar, but she waves them off with a lazy grin.

Yasuaki: (squinting, deadpan)…Gold Ship, huh. A walking chaos generator. Unpredictable, sure — but too unpredictable. And if I paired up with her, we’d probably collapse the Academy into a festival of naps and pranks. No need for two people who match each other’s laziness that perfectly.

He exhales, crossing her off mentally as he strolls to another section of the grounds.

Candidate 2: Mejiro McQueen

On the inner track, Mejiro McQueen is running with perfect posture, elegance in every stride. Her pace is controlled, precise, and almost aristocratic. Even her sweat seems calculated.

Yasuaki: (watching with half-lidded eyes, murmuring) Hmm. Textbook discipline, textbook rhythm. Almost too perfect. She’s the kind that doesn’t need me — her lines are already drawn, her direction already set. If I trained her, all I’d do is get in the way of her pre-written plan.

Candidate 3: Hishi Amazon

On the outer ring, Hishi Amazon is stomping forward like a charging bull, intensity burning in her eyes. She’s barking at another Uma to move faster, her training loud and aggressive.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, then shaking his head slightly)Pure power. Relentless will. She’d eat me alive before listening to a word I said. And honestly… I’d rather not be in the hospital by next week.

Candidate 4: Narita Brian

At the shadowed edge of the training field, Narita Brian runs alone, detached from the others. Her expression is cool, focused, almost too cold. She barely glances at the rest, every stride meant only for her.

Yasuaki: (eyes narrowing, thoughtful) Interesting. A lone wolf. Hyper-focused, probably stubborn. She might actually take strategy seriously… but convincing her to trust me would be a whole battle by itself. Hm.

Candidate 5: Seiun Sky

By the bleachers, Seiun Sky is lounging in the shade with a straw in her mouth, lazily drawing patterns in the dirt with a stick. When called for training, she drags herself up with exaggerated slowness, yet once on the track, her bursts of speed are sharp and cunning — weaving through others like a sly fox.

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) Now that’s curious. Lazy exterior, clever interior. She only spends energy when it counts. Sounds familiar. Too familiar. But… at least she plays the game like a tactician. Potential, but I wonder if we’d end up out-scheming each other instead of working together.

The thought amused him, but only faintly. His body ached for rest, his mind weighed down by overthinking. The heat shimmered off the track, pulling sweat from his brow. Enough scouting for now.

He wandered toward the canteen.

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( At the canteen)

Yasuaki slides into the seat by the window, eyes distant, chopsticks idle. Across from him sits a girl he hasn't yet properly registered — long cotton-candy pink hair tied in a high ponytail, matching pink eyes, and an energy that seems to hum even at rest. She chews a carrot with a satisfied little hum and watches him with bright curiosity

Pink-haired girl: (tilting her head, enthusiastic) Hey—your tray’s missing something important, you know.

Yasuaki blinks, fingers still suspended above the rice bowl. He glances up slowly, finally seeing her properly for the first time. She’s smiling like the entire world is a delightful puzzle.

Yasuaki: (blinking, a lazy smile forming)Huh? Oh—did I forget something?

Pink-haired girl: (leaning forward, earnest and a little dense) Vegetables! You can’t live on rice and grilled fish alone. Vegetables give you stamina and make your brain work better.

She pats the space beside her plate as if inviting him to share. On her tray is a small stack of bright orange carrots — some sliced, some whole — obviously the sort she’s fond of. A tiny paper flag stuck in one carrot reads ‘My Favorite — Crunch Max’ in childish handwriting.

Yasuaki: (half-amused, half-surprised) You… brought extra carrots?

Pink-haired girl: (proudly) Of course! I always bring extra. You look like you need them more than I do.

She plucks a carrot from her pile and slides it across the table with an enthusiastic grin. Her density shows in the most charming way — she speaks bluntly and kindly, not always reading the subtleties of silence.

Pink-haired girl: (tilting her head) Are you training someone new? You were watching everyone for a while. You look like you’re thinking hard.

Yasuaki: (taking the carrot, an unexpected warmth in the gesture) Just… scouting. Trying to find someone who fits. No luck yet.

Pink-haired girl: (eyes narrowing with adorable determination) Then you need energy to think harder! Eat up. These are the good kind — sweet and super crunchy.

She winks at him as if this is the most convincing argument in the world. She’s enthusiastic to the point of being endearing.

Yasuaki: (chews the carrot slowly, watching her out of the corner of his eye)Not bad. Crunch Max, huh?

Pink-haired girl: (beaming) Told you! And hey — if you want, I can show you how I warm up. My trainer says I do weird stretches that wake up every muscle. You could use a wake-up too.

Yasuaki: (a small, genuine smile) You’re awfully helpful for someone who just shoved carrots at a stranger.

Pink-haired girl: (blushing slightly, then brightening) We’re not strangers! We’re academy people. People help people. Also, I like making new friends. You looked lonely.

She reaches into her tray again and offers another carrot slice. Her enthusiasm is a kind of friendly bluntness — she doesn’t probe or pry, she simply fills gaps with small, practical comforts.

Yasuaki: (softly, almost to himself, finishing the carrot slice) Thanks. By the way… what do I call you?

Pink-haired girl: (tilting her head, blinking in surprise, then grinning)Oh! I didn’t even think to introduce myself properly. I’m… Ura Hara! And you are…?

Yasuaki: (straightening slightly, extending a hand in a formal-but-relaxed manner) Yasuaki Akikawa. I work here at the Academy, mostly observing and… well, figuring things out. Some call me ‘The Couch-bound Genius,’ though I assure you I’m not always on couches.

Ura Hara: (giggling, taking his hand in a firm shake)The Couch-bound Genius? That’s funny! I like it. You sound… smart. I think you can help me, Yasuaki!

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, smirking faintly) Help you, huh? And how exactly would that work?

Ura Hara: (bouncing slightly in her seat, her ponytail swaying)Well, today I have a trial race! And… I don’t have a trainer yet. I thought maybe… you could come watch! I’d like you to see how I do, and… maybe you could give me tips afterward?

Yasuaki: (leaning back, crossing one leg over the other, eyes narrowing slightly as he studies her)A trial race… without a trainer? Interesting. Bold move. You’re the kind of candidate I might actually… enjoy observing.

Ura Hara: (eyes sparkling, leaning forward eagerly) Really? You’ll come? You get to see me run, and you can tell me what’s good and what’s… not so good!

Yasuaki: (chuckling softly, picking up a carrot slice and twirling it between his fingers) I’ll come. But only because it’s rare to find someone as unpredictable as you. And… I’ll admit, I’m curious. Who knows — maybe you’ll surprise me.

Ura Hara: (clapping her hands, thrilled) Yay! You won’t regret it, I promise! I’ve been practicing hard!

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The bleachers buzz with low chatter and the occasional cheer as Yasuaki settles into a spectator seat. His notebook lies closed on his lap — for once, he’s not jotting down candidates or strategies. He’s just watching. Down on the track, Ura Hara spots him, waves energetically, and her ponytail swings like a flag in the wind. He gives a small nod, folding himself into the quiet of the crowd.

Announcer (over PA): Attention! The trial heat is about to begin! Fresh faces, eager to show their skill!

The starter pistol cracks. The field bursts forward. Ura Hara rockets off with raw energy, arms pumping, legs flying, grin plastered across her face. But Yasuaki’s practiced eyes immediately pick out her flaws.

Yasuaki (thought): Reaction time slower than ideal — wasted milliseconds at the start. Stride is uneven, not fully extending. Head tilts too high, losing aerodynamic efficiency. Lateral drift on turns — inefficient line. Breathing’s shallow and irregular. She’s burning energy faster than she should… and she’s still grinning like nothing’s wrong.

Despite her technical deficiencies, she moves with an unmistakable enthusiasm. She’s unpredictable, chaotic in a way that throws the field into tiny bursts of adjustment — but she’s not closing gaps smartly. By the halfway point, she’s visibly behind the leaders.

Yasuaki (thought): Honestly? On paper… she’s a poor candidate. Gold Ship? At least controlled chaos. This girl? Raw, reckless, inefficient. If I had to pick someone to mold immediately, she wouldn’t make the list.

He leans back slightly, arms crossed, yet his eyes remain on her. She weaves around other competitors, narrowly avoiding contact, managing bursts of speed at awkward moments, always keeping that wide grin. She’s still smiling, even as she fades further behind.

Yasuaki (thought, a quiet sigh escaping him): And yet… look at her. She’s enjoying it. She’s running for the sake of running. Not for points, not for show, not for approval — just for the act itself...however...

He closes his notebook halfway — enough scribbles to analyze later, enough to mark flaws and observations and stands, stretching casually.

Ura Hara jog toward the warm-down area, ponytail swaying with every step. Her breath comes in uneven bursts, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. The crowd is thinning, And ofcourse she ended up last.

Ura Hara notices him approaching and straightens up, brushing dirt off her uniform. She attempts a bright, confident smile despite her exhaustion.

Ura Hara: Yasuaki! So… how did I do? Did you… like my run?

Yasuaki tilts his head, arms folding again. His expression is calm, professional, and utterly unflinching.

Yasuaki: You ran with enthusiasm. I won’t deny that. But… the technical truth is less flattering. Your start was slow — reaction time wasted precious milliseconds. Stride efficiency was inconsistent, costing you energy. Your line on the turns was sloppy, lateral drift caused more distance traveled than necessary. Breathing was shallow and erratic — stamina wasn’t managed properly. And your pacing? Nonexistent. You surged, you faltered, and you smiled through every inefficiency.

Ura Hara blinks, her grin faltering slightly. A defensive flush creeps up her cheeks.

Ura Hara: (stammering, hurt but trying to hide it) I-I know I’m not… the best… but I tried my hardest! I… I like running! That counts for something, doesn’t it?

Yasuaki: (nodding slowly, unshaken)It counts for your own sense of enjoyment, yes. But others will not see your joy,  they will see your mistakes. Judges, trainers, and scouts will focus on flaws. On paper, you are slow. Uncoordinated. Inefficient. If I were choosing a trainee purely by raw potential and immediate results… you wouldn’t make the list.

Ura Hara’s shoulders droop slightly. Her ponytail swings loosely as if the energy has been leeched out of her. She opens her mouth to speak, maybe to protest, maybe to defend herself, but hesitates. She had expected praise from anyone observing her; the bluntness hits harder than she anticipated.

Ura Hara: (quietly, muttering) I… I see. I guess… you think I’m… not cut out for this.

Yasuaki studies her carefully — the bright eyes still watching him, the flushed cheeks, the slight tilt of her head, and the way she keeps her posture upright despite the sting of criticism. There’s something stubborn in her, something he recognizes from observing countless candidates over the years.

Yasuaki: (softening fractionally, voice even but with a subtle edge of acknowledgment)You’re not cut out… in the conventional sense. You are sloppy, inefficient, and you lack discipline. But… however…you remind me why Yayoi and I enjoy watching Uma Musume racing in the first place.

Ura Hara blinks, her ears twitching slightly as she perks up, caught off guard by the unexpected comment. Her grin wavers into a curious, hopeful smile.

Ura Hara: (tilting her head, voice bright but cautious)You mean…?

Yasuaki: (nodding slowly, voice calm, thoughtful)I mean the joy in watching a Uma Musume isn’t always in the perfect stride, the flawless timing, or the textbook execution. It’s in their spirit, in the way they never give up, in the sheer delight they take in racing. And that… that’s exactly what I see in you.

He takes a small step closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel personal.

Yasuaki: Some might disagree. They’ll look at your technique, your pacing, your flaws — and they’re right to be critical. But if you’re willing to put in the work, to hone your skill with a professional trainer guiding you… I think you could be much more than just raw enthusiasm.

Ura Hara’s eyes widen, a mix of disbelief, pride, and excitement sparkling in them. She shifts slightly on her feet, ponytail swaying, caught between eagerness and uncertainty.

Yasuaki: (finally, voice firm but inviting) So… what do you say, Ura Hara? Would you team up with me?

A brief silence hangs in the air — the kind that stretches just long enough for her to feel the weight and sincerity of the offer. Then, slowly, her grin blooms into an unrestrained smile, cheeks pink with excitement.

Ura Hara: (with a little bounce, voice full of enthusiasm) Y-Yes! I’ll do it! I’ll train with you, Yasuaki! I won’t let you down!

──────────

Afternoon sun slants through the tall windows of Tracen Academy’s administrative wing, painting Yayoi’s office in a warm, late-day glow. The hallway outside is quiet except for the faint murmur of distant training and the occasional clack of heels on tile. Yasuaki and Ura Hara stand just outside the frosted-glass door, Ura Hara practically bouncing on her toes, cheeks still flushed from practice.

Yayoi (voice, behind the door): Come in.

They enter. Yayoi sits behind her desk—papers and planning spreadsheets neatly stacked—and she straightens when she sees them. She looks up, meeting Yasuaki’s eyes. For a heartbeat, she is the director: poised, exacting. Then, almost before she realizes it, heat flares across her face and her posture relaxes.

Yayoi: (standing, hurried; voice softer than when she’s enforcing policy) Onii-chan—(she winces as the word escapes, then hurries) I’m sorry. I was… harsh this morning. I shouldn’t have kicked you out like that.

There’s a small, stunned silence; even, Yasuaki’s lips twitch into something that almost looks like a smile.

Yasuaki: (teasing, but calm) What, you did what you had to as a director. Honestly, it was a good call to kick me out today. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have found her.

He steps aside, gesturing toward the girl at his side.

Ura Hara: (straightening her posture, waving brightly) H-hello! I’m Ura Hara! I don’t have a trainer yet, but I run middle distance mostly—though sometimes I try longer just to see how far I can push myself!

Her voice rings with raw enthusiasm, like someone who doesn’t notice she’s standing in the presence of the strict Director Akikawa.

Ura Hara: (smiling wide, oblivious to the weight in the room) I love carrots, I love running, and… well, I may not be the fastest, but I never give up! That’s my promise!

Yayoi’s brows furrow instinctively, as if ready to dismiss the girl right away. But Yasuaki’s presence at her side makes her hesitate.

Yayoi: (measured, folding her arms)Middle-distance… with no formal trainer? And you’re saying you want my brother to—

Yasuaki: (cutting in smoothly, voice steady) —to take her on, yes. She’s raw, sloppy, and inefficient. But she has something the others don’t.

Ura Hara tilts her head, blinking, as though she isn’t sure whether that was praise or criticism.

Ura Hara: (brightly) …He means my smile, right?

Yayoi exhales, the stern edge in her expression softening into something like reluctant relief.

Yayoi: Then it’s settled — you’ll be officially assigned. But this isn’t a favor, Onii-chan. It’s a responsibility. Don’t treat it like another one of your naps.

Ura Hara beams so brightly it’s almost blinding, practically vibrating with excitement. Tazuna flips her clipboard closed and steps forward, business-first.

Tazuna: I’ll handle the intake form and medical check. We’ll schedule a physiotherapy assessment and get a training slot secured. Yasuaki, any immediate requirements for equipment or facilities?

Yasuaki: Resistance bands, reaction blocks, and morning access to the east track — six a.m. starts. Short interval sets to begin with, then we’ll layer in turn work and endurance sessions.

Yayoi nods, already calculating the calendar in her head.

Yayoi: Fine. I’ll approve the east track window and the budget for basic gear. Make sure she gets proper rest and nutrition monitoring, Tazuna. And no shortcuts — progress must be measurable.

Ura Hara: (puffing out her chest) I can do it! I’ll be there at six and bring extra carrots for practice breaks!

Yayoi: You know, Onii-chan… I might have been wrong about you.

Yasuaki arches an eyebrow, feigning surprise, while Ura Hara stares at him, wide-eyed.

Yayoi: You actually… seem prepared, and I see how seriously you take her potential. For once, I think I may have underestimated you. You might not be the lazy, do-nothing couch potato I accused you of this morning.

Tazuna raises an eyebrow, smirking faintly, clearly enjoying the rare praise directed at Yasuaki.

Yasuaki: (dry, but amused) Don’t get used to it. Flattery from little sisters is rarely strategic.

Ura Hara giggles, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. Her ponytail sways energetically.

Ura Hara: Yasuaki! I’ll make you proud, just you wait! We’ll start early tomorrow and train hard!

Yayoi nods, satisfied, but there’s a trace of mischief in her gaze.

Yayoi: That’s what I like to hear.

──────────

[The Next Morning – East Track, 6:15 a.m.]

The sun is already climbing higher. Ura Hara paces in circles at the starting line, jogging in place, then bounding over to Tazuna.

Ura Hara: (worried) He said six a.m.! Did I mess it up? Maybe I got the time wrong?

Tazuna: (checking her watch with a frown) No, you didn’t. He’s the one who’s late.

Ura scurries around the training grounds, calling out at full volume.

Ura Hara: Yasuakiiii~! Senseiii~! Coach, where are you?!

She even peeks into the equipment shed and behind hurdles, completely baffled. Finally, after nearly twenty minutes of searching, Tazuna sigh

Tazuna: …There’s only one other place he could be.

[Director’s Office – 6:45 a.m.]

The office door creaks open. Ura pushes it wide, tiptoeing in — and there, slouched across the director’s leather couch, is Yasuaki.

A small notebook with scribbled drills lies on the floor beside him, proof he was there early — but somewhere between planning and waiting, he succumbed to sleep.)

Ura Hara: (gasping) Sensei?! …You were here the whole time?! I was looking everywhere!

Yasuaki stirs, peeking one eye open. His voice is groggy, unbothered.

Yasuaki: Mm. Morning, Ura. …Still early. We’ll start later.

He adjusts his clothes  and settles back down. Ura freezes, caught between admiration and disbelief.

Ura Hara: (pouting) But it’s not early — it’s late! I was waiting!

Before she can scold further, the sound of deliberate, angry heels clicking down the hall makes her flinch. The office door swings open and Yayoi steps in, already fuming, Tazuna right behind her. A vein visibly throbs at her temple as she sees her brother sprawled like a cat on her couch.)

Yayoi: (icily) …So this is what my brilliant Onii-chan was doing while an assigned trainee searched every corner of campus for him.

Yasuaki cracks the faintest smirk without opening his eyes.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Early bird caught the couch. Don’t worry — training’s in my head already. Just need… five more minutes.

That’s the last straw. With a sharp exhale, Yayoi marches forward, her patience snapping.

Yayoi: (furious, raising her leg) For the last time—!

She slams her heel into Yasuaki’s side with director-level fury.

Yayoi: DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE ALREADY, YOU USELESS  IDOT BROTHER!

The impact jolts Yasuaki upright. He lurches forward, nearly toppling off the couch. His lips flap as a strangled pffff noise escapes his mouth, air forcibly leaving his lungs. He groans, clutching his ribs.

Yasuaki: (rasping, half-awake)Morning call… received… loud and clear…

Before he can slump back down, Ura Hara rushes to his side, eyes wide with childlike concern.

Ura Hara: (panicked, waving her hands)Yasuakiii-sensei! Are you okay?! Should I get carrots? Wait—no, water! Wait—both?!

Yasuaki: (blinking slowly, voice deadpan but dry) …Carrots won’t fix blunt force trauma, Ura Hara.

Yayoi stands over him with her arms crossed, foot tapping, clearly unimpressed.

Yayoi: (snapping) You had ONE job—show up for training. She was running around the whole campus looking for you while you were drooling on my couch! How are you supposed to be her trainer if you can’t even keep your eyes open past six in the morning?!

Ura Hara, still kneeling by his side, tilts her head.

Ura Hara: (softly, almost defending him) …But he was here early, right? That means he was trying… just in his own way.

Yasuaki tilts his head toward her, one eye opening lazily, faint smile tugging his lips.

Yasuaki: (murmuring)…See, Yayoi? She gets it. Couch-bound strategy. Very advanced.

Yayoi’s jaw drops, her face twitching as if she can’t believe what she just heard.

Yayoi: (snapping, pointing at him) Give me back the praise I gave you yesterday! Right now!

Yasuaki leans back against the couch again, folding his arms smugly.

Yasuaki: (deadpan)Sorry, no refunds on genuine compliments. Store policy.

Yayoi’s hand twitches like she’s debating whether to kick him again. Ura Hara, caught between them, looks like she’s watching the most exciting race of her life.

Ura Hara: (brightly) Wow… you two are really close, huh? Like a comedy duo!

Yayoi freezes, glaring at her, while Yasuaki just chuckles under his breath.

Yasuaki: (teasing) See, even my trainee sees the potential. We could debut as a stage act: ‘The Iron Director and the Couch Potato.’

Yayoi: (snapping back) Keep talking and I’ll make sure you debut in the unemployment line, Onii-chan!

Before the bickering can escalate further, Tazuna, who had been quietly observing the scene with an amused smile, steps forward. She raises her hand like a referee trying to call time.

Tazuna: (lightly, almost scolding but amused) Now… now. At least he did get a Uma, didn’t he, Director Yayoi?

Yayoi: (grumbling, arms crossed)…One clumsy, loud Uma and one useless brother. My academy’s doomed.

Ura Hara: (gasps, puffing her cheeks) H-hey! I’m not clumsy, I’m… energetically flexible!

Yasuaki: (smirking, patting Ura Hara’s head) Don’t mind her. She complains a lot, but that’s her way of saying she cares. Deep down, she’s proud.

Yayoi: (yelling, face red) I SAID GIVE BACK MY PRAISE, YOU THIEF!

The office erupts into laughter—the mix of Ura Hara’s bubbly giggles, Tazuna’s soft chuckling, and Yasuaki’s lazy amusement—while Yayoi fumes, glaring at her brother like she’s already plotting tomorrow’s wake-up “strategy.”

And so, against all odds, the couch-bound strategist, his exasperated director-sister, and his too-bright trainee became… a very unconventional team.

Chapter 1 end.

To be continue

Chapter Text

The midday sun stretched across the academy's training field. The grass swayed with a lazy breeze, and in the middle of it stood Urara Haru-already swinging her arms with so much enthusiasm it looked less like warming up and more like she was trying to take off into flight.

A few steps back, Yasuaki leaned against the fence, hands in his pockets, posture as relaxed as a man about to nap standing upright. His half-lidded eyes followed Ura Hara without urgency, though every small movement of hers seemed to be catalogued in that photographic mind of his.

Yasuaki: (yawning) Alright. Start with the basics. Arm circles, light stretches. Don't jump straight into running-your body'll snap before your spirit does.

Urara Haru: (brightly) Roger that, sensei! Stretching time!

She bent sideways, then immediately spotted a butterfly fluttering nearby. Her head tracked it like a child spotting candy, her arms wobbling mid-stretch.

Yasuaki: (flatly)...Focus. The butterfly's not part of the curriculum.

Urara Haru: (pouting)But it's so cute...

She huffed, tried again, but the moment the grass rustled, she gasped-bending half her body toward the sound like she expected treasure to pop out.

Yasuaki: (muttering under his breath)Knew it. Goldfish-level attention span.

Still, she went through her stretches: twisting her torso left and right , of course nearly toppling over with each sway, reaching high to the sky with such gusto her heel lifted off the ground, and crouching to touch her toes-except she never actually touched them, just flailed her fingers in the vague direction.

Then came the incline stretch,Ura Hara lay on the grassy mat, legs outstretched in front of her, attempting the classic incline stretch. One hand hovered toward her toes, the other braced on the ground for balance, but no matter how hard she reached, her fingers fell several inches short.

Urara Haru: (straining) Nnngh... I can't... it's too far! Yasuakiii-sensei... help me!

Yasuaki let out a long, slow sigh, already knowing how this was going to go. He knelt down beside her, one hand on her back, the other gently on her leg.

Yasuaki: (calmly)...Alright. Relax. I'll help you reach. Don't fight it.

With a careful, light push, he guided her leg closer to her torso. Ura Hara let out a weird squeaky noise, half from surprise, half from the stretch itself.

Urara Haru: (wincing, voice high-pitched) Eeek! Ahhh! Oooh... almost... got it!

A few other horse girls nearby, along with some visiting trainers, paused mid-training. Their eyes widened, and whispered chatter rippled through the field, though none of it reached Yasuaki.

Whispered Voice #1: ...Is... is that allowed?

Whispered Voice #2: Uh... looks kind of... intimate?

Ura Hara's ponytail flopped to one side as she wiggled her torso closer to her toes, squeaking with each effort. Yasuaki stayed perfectly composed beside her, adjusting her posture with meticulous care. To him, it was just another methodical step in training, nothing more , though her frantic energy made it feel like chaos.

Yasuaki: (sighing, deadpan) Alright... that's enough. If you push any further, you'll actually hurt yourself. Ura Hara, don't tell me we have to learn everything from stretching before we can start honing your actual skills.

He released his gentle push, letting her relax. Ura Hara slumped slightly, panting but grinning like she had just conquered a mountain.

Urara Haru: (still cheerful, waving a hand)But... I was so close, sensei! I almost touched my toes!

Yasuaki: (calm, adjusting her legs back to a safe position)...Almost isn't enough if your muscles snap in the process. Flexibility comes in increments, not in squeaky bursts of enthusiasm.

She blinked, chewing her lip thoughtfully, then grinned brightly, hopping slightly in place.

Urara Haru:Okay! I'll remember! Next time, I'll get farther... and I won't squeak as much either!

Yasuaki: (dry, muttering)…You’ll squeak until the day you retire, I can guarantee that. Anyway, if things keep up like this, you won’t improve in time for your debut.

Urara Haru : (eyes widening, squeaking in panic) DEBUT???

Yasuaki: (calm, precise) Yes. My little sister had registered you in Kōchi a  race . It’s a 1,500-metre race. Nine participants allowed. Five  weeks from today.

Urara Haru  (jumping slightly, hands to her cheeks) 5 weeks ?! But… I just started  stretches, How can I be ready?! I still can’t even reach my toes fully!

Yasuaki: (folding his arms, deadpan) That’s exactly why I’m telling you now., you’re sloppy, inefficient, and distractible. Left unchecked, all of that will ruin your debut.

Urara Haru: (pouting, but still bright-eyed) Distractable? Sloppy? Inefficient? …But I try really hard! And I like trying!

Yasuaki: (sighing, rubbing his temple) Trying isn’t enough. You need control, timing, pacing… technique. And endurance. Five weeks is a short window, and Kōchi isn’t next-door. It’s roughly 700 kilometres from Tokyo — that’s almost a full day of travel without even training.

Urara Haru eyes went wide at the distance. A whole day of travel could wipe out even a practiced runner, yet she bounced on her heels, ponytail swishing with nervous energy.        

Urara Haru(determined)One whole day of travel… I’ll sleep on the train! I can sleep anywhere! And I’ll practice while I’m awake too!   

Yasuaki: (folding his arms, surveying her bouncing energy) Well… we’ll figure out the travel logistics later. For now, power squats. Three reps of forty.

Urara Haru: (grinning, bouncing on her heels)Three reps of forty? Got it, Yasuakiii! I can do that! Easy!

She positioned herself, ponytail bouncing as she squared her stance. Yasuaki’s gaze remained calm, almost clinical, as he monitored her form. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but he knew exactly what was coming: a perfect storm of energy, distraction, and stubborn pride.

Urara Haru: (squatting down, counting loudly) One… two… three…

She pushed through the first ten reps with surprising discipline, face scrunched in concentration. But by the fifteenth squat, her focus started to drift. A butterfly flitted past, and her eyes followed it immediately. Yasuaki’s sigh was quiet but audible.

By the twenty-fifth rep, she was wobbling slightly, her ponytail swinging erratically as she tried to maintain balance. The thirtieth squat ended with a graceless topple onto the grass.

Urara Haru: (lying flat, arms spread, cheeks flushed)Ow… my legs… they don’t listen to me anymore!

Yasuaki: (kneeling beside her, adjusting her posture)Complaining won’t strengthen them. Get back up. We’re not done.

Urara Haru scrambled to her feet, immediately distracted by a stray leaf drifting across the field. She chased it a few paces, laughing, before remembering Yasuaki’s presence and quickly returning to the squats. Each rep became a battle between focus and fascination — sometimes she wobbled mid-squat to point at a bird, sometimes she paused to pick up a stray pebble and examine it.

Yasuaki: (sigh  as he face palm ) This is going to be a very long day…

Eventually, she finished all three sets — albeit with plenty of interruptions and exaggerated squeaks. She collapsed again, breathless and beaming.

Urara Haru: (panting, waving her arms)I’m… so tired… but it was fun! Can we do more tomorrow?

Yasuaki: (handing her a bottle of water)Good job. Hydrate first. We’ll take a fifteen-minute break here.

Urara Haru grabbed the bottle eagerly, chugging almost half of it in a single gulp, her cheeks pink from exertion. She flopped onto the grass, head tilted toward the sky, eyes sparkling despite the sweat glistening along her brow. Yasuaki crouched nearby, observing her with a neutral expression, though his mind was already calculating the next set.

Yasuaki: (dry, firm) No, we’re not ending the session here. You just finished the warm-up squats. I’m not letting you off easily today.

Urara Haru: (sitting up suddenly, ponytail swinging) But… but I’m so tired! My legs feel like jelly! Can’t we do something else?

Yasuaki crouched beside her, hand resting lightly on her shoulder, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips.

Yasuaki: (calm, authoritative) Get used to it. For the next two weeks, this is what your afternoons will look like. Now… three sets of thirty-five suicides.

Urara Haru: (eyes widening, squeak escaping) Suicides?! What… what’s that?!

Yasuaki: (dry, unamused) Running back and forth between markers until your legs hate you. Simple physics, endurance training.

She groaned, but bounced to her feet anyway, ponytail flying as she lined up for the first set. The first few runs were chaotic — she zigzagged, squeaked, and almost collided with an errant cone. Yasuaki simply monitored her form, occasionally straightening her posture with one hand, muttering numbers under his breath.

Urara Haru: (panting mid-run) Yasuaki sensei… this hurts! I don’t like pain!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, scribbling notes in his pad) That’s the point.

By sunset, she had staggered through the final rep of squats and suicides, sweat dripping and ponytail stuck to her face. She collapsed flat on the field, groaning loudly, limbs splayed like a starfish.

Urara Haru: (dramatic) I… I hate this… I don’t like pain… my legs… they’re going to fall off…

Yasuaki: (kneeling beside her, calm, faint smile) Complaining aside… good effort. That’s exactly the kind of stubborn determination I was hoping for. Tell me, what do you think I made you do this for?

Urara Haru: (eyes narrowing, tilting her head) Torture?

Yasuaki: (lightly chopping her shoulder, mock scolding) No. Not torture. Stamina. You’re preparing for Kōchi. Five weeks, and if you complete this for two weeks straight, we’ll gradually add more through  days.

Urara Haru ponytail flopping to the side, sweat dripping down her flushed face.

Urara Haru: (panting, a grin slipping through) Y-Yasuaki sensei… I… I can do this! I’ll get stronger! I’ll… I’ll make it to the race!

Yasuaki: (nodding, calm but approving)Now that’s the spirit. Keep pushing like this for two weeks straight, and we’ll start increasing the intensity day by day. Stamina, agility… all of it.

A voice suddenly cut through the warm afternoon air, smooth and teasing, carrying an almost mischievous tone.

???: (leaning casually on the fence, lollipop in his mouth) Well, well… that’s quite a unique trainee you’ve got there, Yasuaki.

Urara Haru jumped, ponytail whipping around as she stared at the man. She had never seen him before. He looked… bold, confident, and a little ridiculous. Chestnut-brown hair in a small ponytail, bright yellow shirt under a navy vest, matching navy pants, maroon shoes, and a lollipop between his lips. His presence was flashy.

Yasuaki: (without missing a beat, deadpan) Pervert Senpai. Of course, you’d show up at the worst possible time.

Pervert Senpai: (mock-offended, tilting his head) Pervert Senpai’? Really, Yasuaki, after all these years? I prefer ‘charming mentor of rising stars

Urara Haru: (blushing slightly, confused)…Charming mentor? And...Yasuaki-sensei, why do you call him Pervert Senpai?

Yasuaki sighed.

Yasuaki: (dryly)Alright, fine. When Teio first enrolled in the Academy, there was… someone interested in her running technique. Let’s just say he tried to ‘inspect’ her legs, checking her muscles with his hands

Urara Haru: (gasping)…What?! That’s… that’s crazy!

Yasuaki: (nodding solemnly) Exactly. Teio didn’t take it lightly. She… well, she kicked him squarely in the face, then came straight to me to report it. That’s why I call him Pervert Senpai. And yet…

Pervert Senpai, lollipop bobbing in his mouth, pretended to be offended.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning, arms spread wide) Excuse me?! That’s a gross exaggeration! I was conducting professional… um… muscle assessments! Very standard for a trainer!

Urara Haru: (tilting her head, skeptical) …Professional muscle assessments?

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, deadpan) Yes. Professional enough that Teio thought she was being molested. You can imagine her reaction.

Pervert Senpai: (chuckling, waving a hand) Alright, alright… maybe the method was a little unconventional. But hey! I’ve been running Team Spica for a couple of months  now. Gold Ship, Scarlet, and Vodka—trained under my watchful eye. Very effective, if I do say so myself.

Urara Haru: (giggling nervously) …So you… run Spica?

Pervert Senpai: (proudly, puffing out his chest) Exactly! The cream of the crop. But don’t worry, kiddo, I’m harmless now… mostly. Yasuaki’s just jealous because my style is… stylish.

Yasuaki: (dryly, crossing his arms) And? What am I supposed to do? Pervert Senpai? It's already late, and Ura’s exhausted. Surely not here to flex your Spica team.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning, lollipop bobbing) Don’t be like that, Yasuaki. I heard you’ve finally taken in a Uma that caught your attention — that’s why I came to see how you’re handling her. After all, it’s been two years, and you never took one before.

Urara Haru blinked, tilting her head, her ponytail bouncing nervously.

Urara Haru: (quietly) …Two years?

Yasuaki: (deadpan, shrugging)Yes, apparently I’ve been considered lazy for that long. Some things never change.

Pervert Senpai: (leaning slightly toward Urara Hara, voice gentle but teasing)Don’t worry, kiddo. Yasuaki here… he’s actually really good for you. I know your record — the losing streak, the times you lagged behind. He sees what others don’t. He’ll push you, sure, but it’s the kind of guidance that actually helps. After all, he graduated at a young age. So if he’s training you harshly… it’s for a reason.

Urara Haru blinked, ponytail bouncing nervously, and nodded.

Urara Haru: (hesitant) …So, he’s not being mean?

Pervert Senpai: (grinning, teasing) Not mean. Calculated. Strategic. But don’t expect me to explain his methods to you. That’s for you to figure out next time. Keep your eyes open. Notice what he’s doing, but he won’t tell you why. If you want to understand him… well, that’s on you.

Yasuaki: (dry, calm) You heard him. Watch, learn, and do your best. That’s all I ask for now. The rest… you’ll discover in time.

Pervert Senpai: (chuckling, giving her a light pat on the shoulder) Exactly. Don’t try to guess too much today. Just keep moving forward. You’ll see soon enough what Yasuaki’s intentions really are — but for now, focus on yourself.

Ura Hara nodded earnestly, her pink eyes bright with determination.

Urara Haru : (stammering, a little breathless)Y-Yasuaki sensei… I… I’ll make sure I make it through, for both our sakes!

She gave a small, enthusiastic wave and darted off toward her dorm, ponytail bouncing energetically behind her.

Pervert Senpai: (calling after her with a grin)Good girl! That’s the spirit — keep that energy up. Don’t get too distracted, though; she’s got a lot to learn before you can see results, but… I like her attitude.

He turned back to Yasuaki, hands casually in his pockets.

Pervert Senpai: (teasing)You know, she’s going to make things… interesting for you. I can already tell. Don’t expect her to just follow instructions quietly. She’s energetic, stubborn, and oddly perceptive. You’ll have your hands full, Yasuaki.

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, voice flat but amused) I’m aware. I don’t need warnings. But she’s exactly the kind of trainee who’ll test limits — not just hers, but mine too.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning, tilting his head) Then I’ll look forward to seeing how you handle it. I have to admit, you’ve been hiding that sharp mind of yours behind a very lazy exterior for far too long. 

Yasuaki: (glancing over his shoulder, voice quiet but firm) Of course she will. After all, her trainer isn’t someone foolish enough to let Uma Musume run without a plan.

Pervert Senpai: (snapping upright, offended, pointing at him) Oi, that’s rude!

Yasuaki didn’t bother to stop or reply further. His faint smirk was the only answer he gave before disappearing beyond the gates, leaving Pervert Senpai grumbling to himself.

──────────

(Two weeks later…)

Two weeks had passed since Urara Haru’s first day under Yasuaki’s guidance. Every afternoon, like clockwork, she followed the regimented routines he set: power squats, interval sprints, stretching sequences, and agility drills. Despite her constant enthusiasm, her energy often spilled into distractions chasing a stray butterfly mid-stretch, squeaking at passing birds, or getting sidetracked by her own ponytail. Yasuaki watched it all with calm, quiet patience, correcting her posture, adjusting her stride, and occasionally muttering dry remarks about wasted effort.

Yet, even with all the inefficiencies, she never lost her smile. Every step, every rep, carried a bright determination that Yasuaki found… unexpectedly persistent.

Even with her distractions, Yasuaki noted subtle improvements  her stride was slightly steadier, her reaction times sharper. Still, she was far from refined.

The following afternoon was technically Haru’s break day after school. She wasn’t expected to come to the track, and for once, Yasuaki found himself without a trainee in tow. Most trainers might have used that rare window for organizing reports, checking on their trainees’ schedules, or at least catching up on lesson planning.

Yasuaki?

He was sprawled out on the couch in Yayoi’s office, arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling with the same half-lidded expression he wore whenever he looked like he might drift into a nap at any second.

Stacks of paperwork lined his sister’s desk .She was scribbling notes while giving the occasional pointed glance toward her brother, who hadn’t moved in nearly twenty minutes.

Tazuna, who had stopped by to drop off reports, gave a polite smile as she noticed the scene.

Tazuna: (half-whispering to Yayoi) Is he… asleep?

Yayoi: (not looking up from her papers) No. He’s pretending to be asleep to avoid helping me with these files.

Yasuaki: (eyes still closed, voice calm and teasing) Wrong. I’m pretending to be asleep so you’ll stop trying to assign me extra work.

Yayoi: (sighing, setting down her pen) Oni-chan, you’ve taken in a trainee now. You can’t keep acting like you don’t have responsibilities. What kind of impression do you think it makes if the students see their so-called genius trainer wasting the afternoon on a couch?

Yasuaki: (finally opening one eye, lazily)A realistic one. Better they know what they’re dealing with.

Tazuna stifled a chuckle, though she quickly masked it behind a professional cough when Yayoi shot her a glance.

Yayoi: (crossing her arms) If you’re not teaching any classes this afternoon, at least make yourself useful. Go buy groceries. I’ll be back late tonight, and unless you want instant noodles again, I expect dinner to be ready.

Yasuaki: (groaning, sitting up halfway) You really know how to abuse that little-sister card, don’t you?

Yayoi: (smiling sweetly, though her tone was firm) I’m the director. And your younger sister. That makes me doubly qualified.

Yasuaki: (grumbling under his breath as he swings his legs off the couch) Tch… tyrant.

Tazuna, watching the exchange, tilted her head curiously.

Tazuna: Still, Yasuaki-san… I heard you’ve been working with Haru-chan in the afternoons. It must be going well, if you’re already letting her rest today.

Yasuaki: (picking up his jacket lazily, voice flat but thoughtful)She’s improving. Slowly, but she is. Breaks are just as important as training ,  though I doubt she’ll use it for rest. Knowing her, she’s probably distracting herself with something ridiculous right about now.

Yayoi: (snorting softly) Dense and easily distracted, wasn’t it? Sounds like the perfect match for you, Oni-chan. A girl who won’t notice when you’re half-asleep on the job.

Yasuaki: (half-smirking as he heads toward the door)Or a girl who’ll force me to stay awake because I can’t take my eyes off her mistakes.

Yayoi raised an eyebrow at the remark, but before she could question him further, Yasuaki waved lazily and left the office, muttering something about the grocery list he had on his mind.

Yayoi’s vein throbbed visibly on her temple, her fingers twitching as she pinched the edge of her desk, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Yayoi: Should I throw away the couch instead? Maybe that’ll teach him a lesson for disturbing me and lazing around all afternoon!

Tazuna, standing nearby with a stack of folders, let out a nervous laugh, glancing at Yayoi with an apologetic smile.

Tazuna: Um… director, I think that might be a bit extreme…

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[Supermarket Aisle – Afternoon]

Yasuaki wheels his cart slowly, eyes scanning the shelves but his mind elsewhere.

Yasuaki (muttering to himself): Alright… chicken or fish? Chicken’s easier… but fish… soy-glazed… do I even have soy sauce at home?

He spots a bottle on the shelf and grabs it, giving a small nod of satisfaction.

Yasuaki (continuing): Salt, pepper, olive oil… check, check… spinach… Yayoi likes spinach. Can’t have her lecturing me after yesterday.

He picks up a bundle of fresh spinach and tosses it in the cart, then glances at the mushrooms.

Yasuaki: Mushrooms… that’ll make the stir-fry better. Garlic… ginger… chili flakes? No, better not. She hates spicy.

Yasuaki stands at a small vegetable stall, a brown paper bag of mushrooms and a bundle of spinach tucked under his arm. The vendor tallies up the total.

Vendor: (smiling, counting coins) That’ll be ¥1,380 for the mushrooms, spinach, and garlic.

Yasuaki: (pulling a few bills and coins from his wallet, calm) Here. Keep the change.

He hands over the money with an economy of motion. The vendor bows a little; Yasuaki nods in acknowledgement.

Vendor: Thank you, sir. Have a good evening!

Yasuaki slides the paid-for bag into the cart’s canvas liner and turns toward the market exit. The noise of bargaining and frying oil swells around him as he walks past a stall selling skewers and a florist arranging garlands.

Yasuaki: (muttering to himself) Soy sauce — check. Spinach — check. Don’t burn the garlic tonight.

He steps out into the open shopping lane. The light is slanting toward gold, and a warm breeze carries the smell of grilled fish and sugar. As he walks, a bright, high-pitched call slices through the market chatter.

Voice (cheerful, practiced): Apples! Fresh apples! Juicy and crunchy — perfect for training snacks!

Yasuaki freezes for an instant. The voice is unmistakable , loud, earnest, and full of the kind of enthusiasm that makes people smile despite themselves. He turns his head and spots a little pop-up fruit stand where a pink-ponytailed girl is energetically offering samples to passersby.

Urara Haru: (waving a hand, eyes shining)Yasuaki-sensei! Over here! Try one — they’re so sweet today!

Yasuaki approaches the stall, torn between exasperation and curiosity. His eyes shift from the apples to Urara, dressed in a casual, colorful outfit, white shirt, pink vest with a ribbon, denim short overalls with a yellow patch and waist ribbon, and bright red sneakers. Her pink hair frames her face, ears peeking out as she beams at him.

Yasuaki: (dry) That aside… you work here now?

Urara Haru: (shaking her head quickly, smiling) Nope! I’ve just been helping out with community work in the district whenever I’ve got free time! Everyone’s super kind, so I thought… why not lend a hand?

She sets the apple down and clasps her hands behind her back, rocking on her heels. Around them, a few passersby smile at the sight of her cheerful energy. An older lady takes a sample slice, laughing as Urara thanks her enthusiastically.

Yasuaki: (sighing) So… on your rest day, instead of actually resting, you come out here and sell apples.

Urara Haru: (brightly) Mhm! Because it’s fun! And maybe I’ll learn something new like how to talk louder, or how to convince people to take a chance. That’s important for races too, right?

Her tone is earnest, so much so that the words almost sound like they make sense to her , Almost. Yasuaki pauses, glancing down at her with narrowed eyes.

Yasuaki: (inwardly, ) How so ?!

He shakes his head subtly, muttering under his breath, as if scolding himself for the thought. The old man behind the stall, who had been watching the interaction with a chuckle, speaks up.

Old Man: (laughing heartily) So… you’re her trainer, eh? I’ve seen plenty around here, but you must be brave, young man. Everyone around here loves this girl’s smile — always smiling, no matter how she finishes on the track. And I can tell you, that’s rare! Even with all her losing streaks, she never complains, never sulks… she just keeps going.

Yasuaki: (tilting his head, neutral) I see.

Old Man: (waving a hand, chuckling warmly) Yeah! And for the past week, she’s been popping in whenever she can to help out at the district — says she can’t come every day because of training.

He squints at Yasuaki, laughing again.

Old Man: And… I hear a lot about you from her! She’s been ranting nonstop about how lazy you were last week!

Urara Haru’s face immediately turns bright red. She drops her gaze to the apples in front of her, fidgeting with the hem of her vest, her ponytail swishing nervously.

Urara Haru: (stammering, barely audible) I-I wasn’t… I mean… I just…

Her usual bubbly energy stutters under embarrassment. She bites her lip and glances up at Yasuaki, hoping he won’t take it too seriously.

Old Man: (laughing heartily) Ha! Don’t worry, kiddo. That’s a good thing! You’ve been looking for someone like him, haven’t you? Finally got yourself a proper trainer! I’m happy for you!

Urara Haru’s eyes widen even more. She looks at Yasuaki, cheeks flushed, while trying to hide her smile behind her hands.

Urara Haru: (muttering) I-I wasn’t looking for… I mean… it’s just…

Yasuaki: (dryly, observing her reaction) Relax. Ranting about me is nothing new. Teio did it when she first enrolled, and my  sister ,  doesn’t hold back either. Consider it… a compliment of sorts. People notice when someone is capable, even if they complain.

The old man cleared his throat, looking at her with a warm smile.

Old Man: Alright, kiddo. I’ve got to close soon, so you better head back. Don’t dawdle now!

Urara Haru nodded quickly, tying her ponytail in a firmer grip and adjusting her vest. She waved goodbye to the old man.

Urara Haru: Th-thank you for the apples! And for letting me help today!

Yasuaki stepped up to the counter, handing over some cash and picking out a couple of apples for himself. He nodded politely to the old man.

Yasuaki: Keep up the good work. These should keep your customers happy until the next harvest.

Old Man: (chuckling) Always thoughtful, lad  ,Thanks.

With the apples secured, Yasuaki fell into step beside Urara Haru, walking through the winding streets toward her dorm. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the playground they passed, where a small group of children were laughing and chasing each other.

Urara Haru: (eyes sparkling) Yasuaki-sensei! Look! A slide! Can I play on it?

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, expression calm) A few minutes. Don’t hurt yourself. I’ll watch… from a safe distance.

Urara Haru’s grin widened as she darted toward the slide, her ponytail bouncing with every step. The children nearby paused, their eyes widening as they noticed her unusual appearance — the telltale ears, the hint of a tail under her playful outfit.

Child 1: Wow! She’s a horse girl!

Child 2: Can we play with her?

Urara Haru laughed, immediately inviting them to race her down the slide. 

Urara Haru: ( beams) Come on! Let’s see who’s fastest!

The children cheered, running beside her, and her laughter filled the playground. Yasuaki watched quietly from the bench, apple in hand, noting her energy, her joy, and the way she naturally drew others in.

Yasuaki (inwardly): She’s kind… generous, playful… always thinking about others. If I can channel that into her focus during training, maybe she’ll improve faster. 

He watched her giggle with the children, slowing just enough to let them catch up.

Yasuaki (inwardly, analyzing): Kindness is an advantage, but also a distraction. If she prioritizes making everyone else happy… she’ll lose sight of her own pace. That’s the flaw in my strategy.

Urara Haru jumped off the slide, skidding slightly in the sand, and ran to the next set of swings. “Your turn!” she shouted to the children. Yasuaki’s eyes followed her every move, noting how her attention scattered, how her speed varied, and how much she genuinely enjoyed the moment.

Yasuaki (inwardly, frowning slightly): I can’t let her forget the goal. Is in  Three weeks. Kōchi. Every misstep now costs later. But…  She’s too kind for that. I’ll have to strike the balance — encourage her energy, but tighten the reins when necessary. 

He took a bite of his apple, watching her lift a younger child onto her shoulders, laughing as if the world were weightless.

Yasuaki (inwardly, a touch of admiration): She’s… perfect for this approach. If I play it right, she’ll learn to focus without losing her joy. 

A sudden thought made him grimace slightly.

Yasuaki (inwardly): And if I don’t get back soon, my little sister will be furious. Dinner won’t cook itself, and she’ll blame me. I can’t have her yelling at me before the evening even starts. Multitasking, Yasuaki… you’re getting old.

Urara Haru bounded over to a group of children at the swings, laughing as she gently pushed them higher. Yasuaki noted the mechanics of her movement — her stride, balance, coordination. All of it useful for running… but scattered right now by her desire to make everyone happy.

Finally, as the sun dipped lower behind the rooftops, Yasuaki gently called out

Yasuaki: Urara Haru. Time to head back

Urara Haru: (pouting, but obedient) Okay… but I had so much fun! And the kids loved it too!

She brushed the dirt from her overalls, cheeks still warm from running around with the neighborhood children. The little ones, still waving at her, shouted, “Come play again, horse girl!” Urara grinned, bouncing a little as she waved back before falling into step beside Yasuaki.

The pavement was glowing orange under the evening sun. Urara hopped every few steps, humming her silly little tune under her breath — "Ura~ Ra~ Ra! ♪” It was cheerful, on beat, and  it carried the same charm that made the townsfolk adore her.

Yasuaki: (glancing at her)…You seem rather energized today.

Urara Haru: (brightly, without missing a beat) Of course! I got to help out the old man, play with the kids, and now…(she tilts her head, smiling) …I get to go home with Yasuaki-sensei!

Her words came out so naturally that it almost caught him off guard. Yasuaki blinked once, then exhaled through his nose — not quite a sigh, more like a faint chuckle.

Yasuaki: …You say that as if walking down a street with me is something worth celebrating.

Urara Haru: (grinning, hands clasped behind her back as she skips along) It is! You don’t realize it, sensei, but it feels nice. Like when the finish line is still far away, but someone’s cheering anyway. Makes me think, ‘Yeah, I can keep running.’

Yasuaki slowed his pace slightly, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Her words, simple as they were, struck something he hadn’t considered. He had study  plenty of racers on paper, studied their flaws, their stamina, their timing. Yet, somewhere along the way, he had skipped the most basic question.

Yasuaki:(in his mind)  Come to think of it… I never asked her what she’s even chasing. What’s her goal? Every racer has something — Teio with her dream of the Triple Crown, others with victory, glory, records, or even the weight of expectations. But Haru… she only ever talks about fun. About smiling, helping, trying again.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was still humming her "Ura Ra Ra!" tune, hopping on and off the pavement cracks as though they were hurdles in her own little race.

Is that enough? he wondered. Can someone run against the world’s fastest on nothing but kindness and hope? Or… maybe that’s the very thing that makes her different. Her weakness and her strength, bound together.

Yasuaki: (after a long pause) …Urara Haru.

Urara Haru: (looking over, ears perked) Hmm?

Yasuaki: You’ve never told me before. What is it you’re running toward? In your career, I mean. What’s the finish line you want to see?

Urara Haru: (tilting her head, softly) My goal? Hmm… that’s kinda hard, sensei. Everyone else talks about big races or winning, but…

She tapped her chin, ears twitching as though she was trying to catch the right words.

Urara Haru: I think… what makes me happiest is when people cheer for me. Even if I’m last. Even if I stumble. Just hearing someone shout, “Do your best!” makes me feel like I actually belong on the track.

Her voice picked up a quiet warmth, her steps falling into rhythm beside him now.

Urara Haru: It’s not about the trophy for me. I know I’m not the fastest. I know people laugh sometimes. But when I hear the crowd, or even just one person clapping for me, it’s like my legs don’t feel so heavy anymore. I wanna keep running because… well… maybe there’s someone out there who feels like they don’t matter either. And if they see me keep going — even in last place — maybe they’ll think, “If she won’t give up, then I don’t have to either.”

She smiled, not the bubbly grin she wore when skipping, but something softer, truer.

Urara Haru: So my finish line isn’t really winning. It’s… making people happy just by showing up, just by running all the way through. Even if I’m the very last one, if someone cheers, then that’s enough for me.

Yasuaki: …Strange answer. But not a bad one.

Urara Haru: (pouting, puffing her cheeks) Hey! It’s not strange, it’s me!

Yasuaki: (cracking a faint smile) Exactly. That’s why it’s strange.

Urara giggled, the sound carrying like little bells through the quiet street.

Yasuaki looked ahead again, the dorm lights now faintly visible in the distance. He still had dinner to make before Yayoi returned. By the time they reached the front steps of her dorm, the sky had deepened into soft purples, lamps beginning to glow along the walkway.

Yasuaki: (stopping, shifting the bag in his hand) Well… this is where we part ways. I have to make dinner for Yayoi before she decides to leave me out on it again.

Urara Haru: (waving both hands cheerfully) Okaay! Thanks for today, sensei!

She lingered on the step, still smiling at him, bouncing a little on her heels as though she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye.

Yasuaki huffed a faint laugh, shaking his head as he turned away.

Yasuaki: …Go on already. You’ll catch a cold standing out here. And I don’t want to see you dragging your feet at training tomorrow because you couldn’t stay warm tonight.

Urara Haru: (puffing her cheeks, but still grinning) Eeh, I wouldn’t! Even if I had a cold, I’d still run!

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, deadpan) That’s not the flex you think it is. Running with a fever only makes you slower.

Urara Haru: (giggling, rocking on her toes) Maybe… but if people are cheering, I’d still want to try.

Her voice carried with such simple honesty that for a moment Yasuaki didn’t know what to say. He looked away, tightening his grip on the apple bag, and exhaled softly through his nose.

Yasuaki: …Stubborn girl. Don’t make that my problem later.

Urara Haru: (smiling wider) Don’t worry! It won’t be!

She waved both hands enthusiastically, her voice ringing across the quiet street.

Urara Haru: Good night, sensei! See you tomorrow!

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(In Urara haru dorm) 

The door slid open with a light creak as Haru Urara stepped inside, still humming happily. King Halo sat neatly by her desk, brushing out her long hair with practiced grace.

King Halo: (raising a brow)You’re back late. Don’t tell me you got lost on the way again?

Haru Urara: (laughing nervously)Nope! I was helping this really sweet old man at his shop. He had so many boxes to move, and then some kids came by, and we played a little!

King Halo: (sighing, though her tone softens)Of course you did. Only you would turn an errand into playtime.

Haru Urara: (beaming) But it was fun! And the old man said my smile really helped. Oh! And guess what—my trainer, Yasuaki-sensei, showed up right when I was selling apples!

King Halo: (arching a brow, folding her arms) Apples…? And your trainer was there?

Haru Urara: (nodding rapidly, ponytail bouncing) Mhm! He even bought some to support the shop. Everyone there was so happy he’s my trainer, even though I… you know… don’t really have a great record yet.

King Halo: (narrowing her eyes, tone probing) Your trainer, huh… What do you think of him?

Haru Urara: (blinking, then breaking into a grin) Yasuaki-sensei? He’s… different. At first, I thought he was kind of lazy. I mean, he even naps at the academy sometimes! But then—he makes me run so much. And squats! And stretching! And every time I squeak, he just sighs like, “I knew this would happen.” (giggles)

King Halo: (raising an eyebrow, unimpressed) Hmph. I’ve been hearing about him nonstop for the last two weeks. Every day it’s “Yasuaki-sensei this, Yasuaki-sensei that.”

Haru Urara: (tilting her head, cheeks puffing slightly) Eh? Really? I didn’t notice… I just talk about training a lot, don’t I?

King Halo: (sighing, folding her arms though her tone softens) You do. And it’s obvious he’s had some effect on you. You’ve been brighter lately, even more reckless than usual. It’s… not a bad thing.

Haru Urara: (blinking, smiling sheepishly) Hehe… I guess so.

King Halo: (looking away with a faint huff) Just don’t let him work you to exhaustion. You’ve always been the type to throw yourself in with everything you’ve got. Someone has to pull you back when you overdo it.

Haru Urara: (eyes widening, then grinning warmly) King…

King Halo: (snapping her gaze back, cheeks faintly tinted) Don’t mistake it. I simply don’t like seeing you run yourself ragged. That’s all.

Haru Urara: (giggling softly) Got it!

Three weeks passed in a blur of training. Day after day, Yasuaki pushed Haru Urara through power-walk drills, endless squats, and stamina circuits that left her squeaking in protest but never quitting. Slowly

Finally, the week arrived for her official debut in Kōchi. The night before departure, she’d sworn to herself she would wake up early, packed and ready.

(Dormitory Morning)

King Halo: (hands on her hips, frowning at the lump still curled up in bed) Haru. Haru! For goodness’ sake, wake up! The train leaves in less than an hour!

Haru Urara: (groaning, muffled under her blanket) Five more minutes… Yasuaki-sensei said rest was important…

King Halo: (exasperated, yanking the blanket away) He didn’t mean now! You’re debuting tomorrow, and you’ll miss your train at this rate!

Haru Urara: (sitting up with messy hair, panicked) Ehhh?! I overslept?!

King Halo: (rolling her eyes, grabbing her arm) Overslept, under-packed, and over-distracted — typical you. Come on, I’ll walk you to the station before you end up running barefoot.

Ten minutes later, Haru stumbled out of her dorm with a bag far too big for her small frame, clumsily hopping as she tried to fix her shoes. 

(At the Station)

Yasuaki was already there, waiting calmly on the platform with his hands in his pockets. His sharp gaze swept the crowd, landing on Haru’s frantic form half-dragged, half-led by King Halo.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) …You’re late.

Haru Urara: (panting, clutching her bag) I-I know! I’m sorry! I overslept, but King woke me up and—

Yasuaki: (cutting in, flicking his eyes to King Halo) …And this must be the savior who dragged you here in one piece.

King Halo: (arching a brow, arms crossed) So you’re the infamous Yasuaki-sensei I’ve heard endlessly about. I expected someone stricter, not… (she eyes his posture, unimpressed) …someone lounging around like it’s a Sunday stroll.

Yasuaki: (tilting his head, faint smirk ) And you must be the roommate who endures her midnight rambling.

Haru Urara: (squeaking, flustered) H-hey! Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!

King Halo: (sighing, softening slightly) Someone has to keep you from being hopeless. Consider me doing you a favor.

Yasuaki: (exhaling, voice dry but even) Well… you have my thanks. If you hadn’t dragged her here, we might’ve reached Kōchi by late night… or worse, missed it entirely.

Haru Urara: (pouting, cheeks puffed) Eeeh! I wasn’t that late…

King Halo: (snapping back) You were late enough. Honestly, what would you do without me?

Before Haru could argue further, the station loudspeaker chimed.

Train Operator: (announcing over speakers) Last call for the express bound for Shibuya! All passengers, please board immediately.

Haru Urara: (gasping, grabbing her oversized bag) Ah! That’s us, Yasuaki-sensei!

Yasuaki: (nodding, turning toward the platform) Let’s go. Don’t trip this time.

Haru Urara: (skipping to keep up) I won’t! …Probably!

King Halo followed them a few steps, stopping just before the gate. She stood tall, arms folded, though the faintest hint of warmth touched her stern expression as she watched Haru’s back.

King Halo: (firm, calling after her) …Haru.

Haru Urara: (spinning around, beaming) Yes?

King Halo: (after a pause, softer than before) Best of luck tomorrow. Show them your smile… and don’t you dare come back saying you didn’t give it your all.

Haru Urara: (grinning so wide her eyes shut) You got it! Thanks, King!

The whistle blew. Yasuaki ushered Haru through the gate just as the doors began to close. She pressed her face against the window as the train pulled out, waving both hands with infectious energy.

King Halo raised her own hand in return — a subtle, dignified wave. Her lips curved faintly, though pride kept her expression composed.

Chapter 2 end 

To be continue 

Chapter Text

Its an Sixteen hours journey From Shibuya to Okayama, then onto transfers through Seto-Ōhashi, each leg dragging deep into the night. By the time the final bus rolled into Kōchi, dawn had barely cracked the horizon.

Yasuaki sat upright despite the ache in his shoulders, a faint yawn escaping him.

His eyes were heavy, but his focus never wavered. Every station, every transfer, he had kept Haru moving - gently nudging her awake, making sure she didn't miss a step.

Meanwhile, Haru Urara stumbled off the bus with her oversized bag, rubbing at her eyes like a child. Her ponytail was crooked, her vest rumpled, and she swayed lightly with each step.

Haru Urara: (groggy, muttering) Uuu... sensei... why's traveling so long... I feel like I ran three races already...

Yasuaki: (dry, but with a faint smile tugging at his lips) You slept at every stop. Don't compare it to racing.

Haru Urara: (pouting, cheeks puffing) Mmm... only because you kept waking me up!

Yasuaki: (sighing, rubbing the back of his neck) If I didn't, you'd still be at Shibuya station drooling on a bench.

Haru blinked up at him, then giggled softly despite her exhaustion. Even in this bleary state, she still carried that unshakable energy. Yasuaki, on the other hand, had not closed his eyes once , his own choice, to let her rest undisturbed between transfers. 

The bus doors closed behind them, hissing as it pulled away. Ahead, the morning mist hung low over the gates of Kōchi Racecourse. The faint outlines of the track curved in the distance, already alive with preparations.

Haru Urara: (squinting, then grinning) We're here...! Yasuaki-sensei, look! It's huge!

Yasuaki: (exhaling, tilting his head toward the rising sun) ...Welcome to Kōchi. Your debut starts here. Now then-

He shifted his gaze down to her, eyes half-lidded but sharp all the same.

Yasuaki: We have four hours to spare. Why don't we start with light training? Just enough to wake you up.

Haru Urara: (pouting, shoulders slumping) Ehh... b-but it's my debut day! Shouldn't I be, you know, saving energy? Resting?

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, voice dry) Resting is for after the race. You've had sixteen hours of sitting and sleeping. Your body is heavy from travel. If you don't loosen it now, you'll feel it when the gates open.

Urara groaned dramatically, stamping her foot on the pavement like a child caught sneaking snacks before dinner.

Haru Urara: (reluctant) ...Uuuuugh, fine! But only because it's you saying it, sensei!

She dropped her bag and stretched her arms, her ponytail swaying as she tilted side to side. Her nerves were obvious - she tugged at her vest, glanced around, and chewed her lip - but Yasuaki simply crossed his arms, watching.

Yasuaki: Alright, we'll start with one lap around the outer course. Keep it nice and steady, no need to rush. It's about twelve hundred meters, so just treat it as a warm-up, like introducing yourself to the track before the real race begins

Urara Haru gave a sharp nod, her face set in mock seriousness, and then bounded off toward the outer course. Her ponytail swished wildly as she broke into an eager trot that quickly became an uneven sprint. A few joggers and trainers already on the track shot her quizzical glances, but she just flashed them her usual bright grin and kept going.

Her form wobbled in places, but step by step, she adjusted, and with each lap, her movements smoothed out. The chilly morning air turned warm against her skin, the mist lifting with her pace. By the time forty minutes passed, Urara had managed several laps. Her chest heaved, sweat glistened at her brow, and yet she still wore that relentless smile.

Yasuaki stood where he'd been all along, arms folded, his sharp eyes following her from start to finish. He waited until she slowed to a stop, hands on her knees, gasping for breath.

Yasuaki: (calmly) That's enough. Break time. Sit down before you fall down.

Urara Haru: (panting, wobbling into a seat by the fence) Haa... haa... see? I-I told you... I can do it...!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, but with the faintest twitch at his lips) If you call flailing halfway and squeaking every corner "doing it," then yes. You managed.

Urara Haru: (puffing her cheeks, then laughing breathlessly) H-hey... progress is progress

She plopped down on the grass with zero grace, fanning herself with her hands. Meanwhile, Yasuaki turned away, heading for the paddock office. The quiet course was stirring to life; hooves clattered faintly on the dirt as other Umamusume jogged out to test the ground. Their trainers gathered by the rail, clipboards and stopwatches in hand.

Inside the office, Yasuaki filled out the entry forms with his usual dry efficiency. When he returned, he held up a small placard with bold digits printed on it.

Yasuaki: (holding it out) Number five. That's you. Out of nine participants.

Haru Urara: (eyes widening, clutching it like a treasure) N-number five...! That's me...! Ehehe, it feels real now...!

Her fingers tightened around the number like it was a good luck charm. Around them, the atmosphere of the racecourse grew heavier - trainers shouting times, competitors sprinting with perfect form, the kind of air that whispered competition.

Yasuaki's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the field. His focus sharpened on the names on the entry list .

Yasuaki: (low, almost muttering) ...Eclat de Neige. Sprinter type. Crisp, efficient stride. No wasted movement - if the pace is fast from the start, she'll control it.

He tapped the list with his finger, moving to the next.

Yasuaki: American Stage. More stamina-oriented, prefers steady acceleration. If the first half burns too quick, she'll climb past stragglers. Dangerous in the final stretch.

Urara blinked, tilting her head as she listened, though most of it sailed right over her head. Still, she hugged her number plate closer, eyes darting nervously toward the track.

Yasuaki: Logi Leon. Versatile. Adaptable to pace changes, which makes her a headache - no fixed weakness to exploit.

The crowd's noise swelled as trainers checked equipment and tightened shoes. Yasuaki kept at it, unfazed, like a chess player reviewing the board.

Yasuaki: Yakushima. Explosive sprinter - burns out fast, but dangerous if she secures the lead early.

Toshin Macau - steady, textbook form. Not flashy, but consistent.

Stripe - unpredictable. She can misfire completely or surprise with a perfect run. 

Risk factor high.

Dixie Knight... heavy kick near the end. Not much of a starter, but strong in the closing.

Finally, his gaze paused at the last name.

Yasuaki: (quietly) Nishino Flower.

Urara's eyes widened a little at the familiar name.

Urara Haru: (clutching her number tighter, voice small) Nishino... is running too?

Yasuaki: (glancing at her, tone even) She is. Which means your debut isn't going to be gentle. Well... with all the training we put in for the past five weeks, I'll be straight with you - you won't get first. But with that stamina you've built? At max, you can fight your way into fourth.

Urara Haru's ears twitched, her grip on the number tightening. Fourth place. It wasn't a victory, not the kind that shone on posters or caught the crowd's roar. But to her - who had never placed at all - even the idea of fourth sent a spark through her chest.

Urara Haru: (brightening, though her voice trembled) Fourth...? You mean... I could actually finish close to the front?

Yasuaki: (a faint smile tugging at his lips) Yeah. Go out there and have fun with everything you've got.

The words hit deeper than Urara expected. They weren't the promise of easy victory, nor the empty encouragements she'd heard before. It was realistic. Honest. Yet strangely, it filled her with more strength than any "you can win" ever had.

──────────

( Inside paddock area) 

Announcer: (over the speakers, bright and clear) Ladies and gentlemen, we are just moments away from today's special turf race - a fifteen-hundred-meter sprint here at Kōchi Racecourse! Nine participants will be stepping onto the track!

The air was alive now - cheers rising, hooves clipping against the ground as the competitors stretched and jogged in place. The smell of turf mixed with the sharp tang of anticipation.

Urara Haru bent down to stretch, ponytail swaying as she reached for her toes, her limbs trembling with nervous energy. Beside her, another figure moved gracefully into her stretches, her smaller frame almost delicate in comparison.

Nishino Flower: (softly, glancing sideways with a warm smile) Haru-san... this is your debut, isn't it?

Urara Haru: (snapping her head up, blinking, then nodding rapidly) Y-yeah! It's my first time... I'm so nervous, my stomach's all fluttery.

Nishino Flower: (giggling softly, tilting her head) That's normal. I still get nervous, too. But... nerves mean you care. And that's a good thing.

Urara Haru: (smiling sheepishly, rubbing her cheek) Ehehe... thanks. I guess if you can still get nervous even though you're... y'know, amazing, then maybe it's okay for me too.

Nishino Flower: (blushing faintly, shaking her head) I'm not amazing yet. I'm still learning... just like you. So... let's both do our best today.

Urara Haru: (smiling widely, bouncing once on her heels) Hai! Let's do our best!

The final stretches ended, and the contestants began filing toward the starting gates. Each Umamusume carried their own aura , some with fierce, sharp eyes like blades drawn, others with calm poise, shoulders squared with confidence. The tension was thick, almost electric.

Urara Haru bounced on her toes, still jittering, her number pinned proudly but her hands fidgeting at her vest. Nishino Flower walked beside her with quiet grace, a steady smile that made her seem unshaken by the roaring crowd.

Announcer: (voice booming over speakers) And now, ladies and gentlemen - the lineup for today's fifteen-hundred-meter sprint! Nine competitors will take their marks, each vying for victory here at Kōchi!

Names rang through the air, one after another. Each time, pockets of cheers erupted from the stands - seasoned racers.

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen! The track is ready, the crowd is roaring, and here they come! Number 1, the dazzling Eclat de Neige!, Number 2, the unstoppable American Stage!, Number 3, the pride of the track Logi Leon!, Number 4, the island breeze Yakushima!, Number 6, the powerhouse Toshin Macau!, Number 7, the streaking wonder Stripe!, Number 8, the daring Dixie Knight!, Number 9, the graceful Nishino Flower!, and making her sparkling first debut, Number 5, the legendary underdog, Haru Urara! 

The cheers were smaller, scattered ,but they were there. Some curious, some encouraging, some doubtful. Urara froze for half a second, ears twitching as the sound reached her. Then she gulped down her nerves and raised a hand, waving brightly at the stands with her signature wide smile.

Her eyes darted toward the rail. There standing calmly with his arms folded was Yasuaki.

Urara Haru: (grinning, raising two fingers in a peace sign) Hee~!

Yasuaki exhaled softly through his nose, a sigh that carried equal parts amusement and exasperation. But when her grin lingered, his lips curved ever so slightly, a small smile slipping through his usual calm.

The stewards waved the competitors forward, guiding them to their respective gates. Metal doors clanged shut one after another as each Umamusume stepped in, the crowd noise dulling into a tense hum.

Urara's heart pounded like a drum. She shuffled in behind Nishino Flower, her small hands curling into fists at her sides as she ducked into her gate. The metal bars locked, and the world suddenly seemed to shrink.

On either side of her, the other racers pawed at the ground, some snorting sharply, others dead still, eyes locked on the track ahead like arrows ready to fly. Nishino Flower adjusted her stance beside her, lowering into position, her expression calm but focused.

Urara swallowed hard, legs trembling, but forced herself to mimic them.

Announcer: (voice booming) Ladies and gentlemen, all competitors are in position! This is a twelve-hundred meter sprint - nine runners, one lap around the turf! The gates are set!

The hum of the crowd turned into silence, sharp and absolute. Every breath, every twitch, every heartbeat felt magnified. Urara leaned forward, eyes wide but unblinking, her smile returning despite her nerves.

Announcer: ...Ready!

The gates flew open with a metallic crack. The others shot forward like arrows loosed from a bow, hooves tearing up the turf in a storm of speed.

Urara Haru, however, flinched. Her start came a half-beat late , small, but costly. By the time her legs found rhythm, the front of the pack was already surging meters ahead.

Announcer: And they're off! Logi Leon bursts to the front! Toshin Macau right behind! Eclat de Neige keeping tight on the inside!

Urara's ears twitched back at the booming announcement. For a fleeting moment, panic bubbled in her chest. But she gritted her teeth and forced her stride steady, recalling Yasuaki's words.

Yasuaki (in her memory): Don't burn it all at once. Hold your rhythm. Twelve hundred meters is short, but it's still a race. Find your ground before you chase.

Breathing in through her nose, she matched her arms with her legs, falling into a cadence she could hold. Step by step, the distance between her and the very back of the pack began to shrink.

She caught sight of Stripe just a few meters ahead, his form already faltering from a reckless burst at the start. Her eyes lit up.

Urara Haru: (panting but smiling) Okay...! One at a time... I can do this!

The crowd's cheers swelled as the pack thundered into the first corner. Urara leaned into the curve, her ponytail snapping behind her, and surged past Stripe with a squeak of effort. The sting of nerves faded - replaced by something brighter.

Announcer: And trailing the back-wait! Haru Urara makes her move, overtaking Stripe! She's not letting the field slip away just yet!

Yasuaki: (quietly, to himself) ...Late start, but pacing's stable. Good. Don't chase the front yet, Urara.

The field thundered into the first straightaway. The leaders - Logi Leon, Toshin Macau, and Eclat de Neige - drove the pace mercilessly, trading surges as if daring one another to break first. Just behind, Nishino Flower ran light on her hooves, small frame carrying her in a steady third place.

Further back, Urara Haru pressed on, her strides still slightly shorter than the rest, but even - her breaths sharp and steady. Stripe was already behind her, fading fast, and she locked eyes on the next two in front: American Stage and Dixie Knight.

Announcer: At the front, Logi Leon still holding strong, Eclat de Neige at her shoulder , but look to the rear! Haru Urara has caught the rhythm! Can she close the gap further?

The second corner loomed, its curve demanding balance as much as speed. American Stage faltered slightly on the inside, her tempo breaking as she leaned too sharply.

Urara Haru: (panting, determined) Now...!

She seized the opening, swinging wide and pushing her stride. Her hooves dug into the turf, the squeak of effort escaping her throat as she pulled past American stage , The crowd gasped - this wasn't the desperate flailing they remembered. This was controlled, timed, almost deliberate.

Announcer: And there it is! Haru Urara edges past American Stage on the outside! She's not done yet!

Her momentum carried her alongside Dixie Knight, whose powerful legs were already straining from the punishing early pace. Side by side through the curve, Urara refused to yield. She leaned just enough, her ears pinned back, and with one final push , she broke ahead.

Announcer: Dixie Knight falling back - and Haru Urara surges forward! She's moved from eighth... into sixth place!

The stands erupted, cheers mixing with disbelief. For once, the pink-haired runner wasn't falling away - she was climbing.

From the rail, Yasuaki's sharp gaze followed her every stride.

Yasuaki: (muttering, eyes narrowing) Good. Controlled aggression. She's listening. Keep the rhythm, Urara. The real test starts on the final straight.

Urara Haru leaned forward, her chest heaving, but her breath was steady. Her eyes were locked on the runner just ahead, holding fifth place. The gap wasn't huge , close enough that she could almost reach out and grab it , but the girl in front had a strong, relentless stride that didn't give an inch.

Six hundred meters left. Half the race was over, and half still loomed ahead. Urara clenched her fists, pumping her arms harder. Her ponytail whipped behind her like a flag in the wind. Her focus sharpened on her next target Yakushima, stubbornly clinging to fourth, face tight with effort.

Urara Haru: (panting, under her breath) Just... a little more... if I can catch her...

She drove her legs harder, hooves pounding the turf in a steady rhythm. Each stride gained her a little ground, closing the gap inch by inch. The crowd noticed, rising from their seats as the pink-haired runner inched closer to the middle of the pack.

Announcer: And look at this! Haru Urara - once thought to always trail behind - is pushing for fourth place! The field won't shake her off so easily today!

But Yakushima wasn't going down without a fight. Her form steadied, her long legs stretching out with every stride. Each time Urara tried to close in, Yakushima would pull just a half-step further, like dangling a finish line out of reach. The distance between them teased , close enough to taste, but not enough to overtake.

Three hundred meters left. And just then the front pack erupted.

With perfect timing, Nishino Flower leaned forward, her stride lengthening as though wings had unfurled. She slipped past Toshin Macau in a blink, her small frame carrying explosive speed that shocked the field. The roar of the crowd swelled like thunder.

Announcer: Unbelievable! Nishino Flower bursts from third - and now she's surging! Look at that sprint! She's challenging the leaders head-on!

Eclat de Neige and Logi Leon's eyes widened as Nishino Flower blazed past, her small frame cutting through the wind like a sudden spark turned into flame. The crowd roared at her unexpected surge, voices rising higher with each stride she took toward victory.

But further back , Urara Haru was locked in her own battle. Every muscle in her legs screamed, her lungs burned with fire, and still she pushed. Yakushima's back loomed just ahead, her long strides keeping her firmly in fourth. The distance between them was small but each step Urara took felt heavier, as if the track itself was holding her down.

Urara Haru: (crying out, raw and desperate) Aaaah-! I won't... lose here!

Her cry carried over the thunder of hooves, desperate, trembling, but full of stubborn fire. The gap shrank for a heartbeat - her fingers clawing the air as if she could drag herself those last few inches closer.

But Yakushima's stride stretched longer, steady and unrelenting.

The finish line surged forward like a wall.

Announcer: And across the line! First place - Nishino Flower, with a stunning final burst! Second - Eclat de Neige! Third - Logi Leon! Fourth - Yakushima, holding firm at the wire! And in fifth-Haru Urara, crossing with heart and grit!

Haru Urara's chest rose and fell as she slowed to a trot, sweat glistening under the track lights. Though fifth place was hers, she lifted her head high. The crowd, still buzzing from Nishino Flower's victory, cheered warmly as she passed.

Catching her breath, Haru Urara broke into a bright, beaming smile. She raised her hand and waved, first to the stands, then more deliberately toward Yasuaki. Her ears flicked happily.

Haru stumbles out of the track, her legs trembling. Nishino Flower approaches, cheeks flushed but glowing with victory.

Nishino Flower: (smiling, a little shy) Haru-chan! You were amazing out there. That sprint at the end... I thought you'd catch me for a second.

Haru Urara: (grinning wide, hands on her knees) N-No way! You were flying, Flower-chan! Congratulations! You totally deserved first place.

Nishino giggles softly, bowing her head before being called away by her trainer. Haru waves, then turns back just as Yasuaki approaches, carrying a towel and a bottle of sports drink. Haru tries to hide her weaker smile, eyes flicking down.

Haru Urara: (softly) ...I didn't get fourth... like you said I could.

Haru tries to hide her weaker smile, eyes flicking down, Yasuaki studies her for a moment, then , unexpectedly pats her head. Haru's ears flick upright in surprise.

Haru Urara: (eyes widening) E-Eh?!

Haru blinks, her face warming, then breaks into a laugh that's half giggle, half gasp from her exhaustion. She rubs her nose with the back of her hand.)

Haru Urara: (smiling weakly but brighter) Hehe... so even you didn't see that coming, sensei? That means I win a little, right?

Yasuaki: (snorting softly) If you count proving me wrong as a victory, then sure. Take it.

Haru beams at that, even as her legs wobble and she plops down onto the nearest bench. She kicks her feet lightly, the towel slipping forward onto her face. Yasuaki adjusts it for her, shaking his head with faint amusement.

Haru Urara: (muffled under the towel) ...Still feels like I lost, though. I wanted that fourth place so bad.

Yasuaki: (calmly) Fourth, fifth , the number isn't what matters yet. What matters is that you finished with strength still in you. You didn't break down halfway. You fought until the end.

Haru Urara: (pulling the towel back, staring at him with wide eyes) ...So... that means I really am getting stronger?

Yasuaki: (meeting her gaze, steady) You are. Slowly, stubbornly, but yes , stronger.

Her ears twitch, and for a moment her exhaustion seems to melt. She pumps one fist toward the ceiling, though it flops halfway from lack of energy, making Yasuaki sigh faintly

Yasuaki: (dryly) How about we take a sightseeing around Kōchi for a day? Have some fun... before we head back to Tokyo. We might as well, since we're here.

Haru freezes, blinking rapidly as though she didn't quite hear him right. Then her eyes widen, ears shooting up, and she nearly bounces off the bench despite her aching legs.

Haru Urara: (shocked, then beaming) Eh-ehhh?! R-Really?! We can?! Sightseeing?! With you, sensei?!

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow) You sound like I just offered you the championship trophy.

Haru Urara: (laughing) Well, it feels like it! I thought after the race we'd for sure head straight back.

Yasuaki: (calmly) I was thinking about it... but it would be a shame not to wander around while we're here, don't you think?

Haru Urara: (eyes sparkling, bouncing on her toes) Then what are we waiting for?! Let's go!

Yasuaki: (pointing to her oversized bag)What about your enormous bag?

Haru Urara: (tilting her head innocently, clasping her hands together) Yasuaki-sensei, could you carry it for me? I just finished racing, and my legs are soooo tired...

Yasuaki: (flatly, arms crossing) You're the one who packed half your dorm room in there. Carrying it yourself will be... let's call it "bonus stamina training."

Haru Urara: (dramatic gasp, clutching her chest) Ehhh?! Training even during sightseeing?! That's unfair, sensei!

Yasuaki: (sighing, but smirking faintly)Life isn't fair, Urara. Now pick it up.

Urara groans loudly, struggling to hoist her bag onto her shoulder. She wobbles like she's about to topple over, drawing a few chuckles from people passing by. Yasuaki simply walks ahead at a steady pace, hands in his pockets, while she scrambles to keep up.

Haru Urara: (panting) I-I'll prove...! I can do sightseeing AND training at the same time...!

Yasuaki: (glancing back, dryly) Try not to collapse before we reach the first food stall.

──────────

( Morning Bus Ride into Kōchi District)

The bus hummed along the quiet roads, the morning mist lifting to reveal the city waking up. Shops were just beginning to open, shutters creaking, vendors setting out their goods.

Urara pressed her face to the window, her ponytail swishing as she pointed out nearly every new sight.

Haru Urara: (excitedly) Sensei, look! That shop's selling souvenirs with little horse keychains! Ah-ah! And over there, they're grilling something on sticks already!

Yasuaki: (leaning back in his seat, eyes half-lidded, voice flat) ...You've been pointing out something every thirty seconds since we left the racecourse.

Haru Urara: (turning to him, grinning wide) Because everything's new! Don't you feel excited too?

Yasuaki hid a quiet yawn behind his hand, quickly looking away so she wouldn't catch it. The lack of sleep during the sixteen-hour transfer was clawing at him, but his face betrayed nothing more than his usual calm.

Yasuaki: (calmly) ...Excitement takes energy. I'd rather save mine for later.

Haru Urara: (pouting, crossing her arms) You're no fun sometimes, sensei.

Yasuaki: (side glance, faint smirk) And yet, you're still smiling.

Urara laughed and leaned back into her seat, humming softly - her voice carrying just enough to be heard above the bus engine. 

The bus hissed to a stop. As the doors opened, a flood of scents greeted them - fresh bread, grilled fish, and the crisp tang of morning air mingled with sea breeze.

Urara hopped off the step with energy to spare, stretching her arms high.

Haru Urara: (cheerfully) Wahhh! It smells amazing! This place is alive already, sensei!

Yasuaki followed at a slower pace, hands in his pockets, his gait steady despite the heaviness dragging at his limbs.

Yasuaki: (dry tone) Just don't run yourself ragged before we've even started sightseeing.

Haru Urara: (beaming, skipping a little as she walked) Don't worry! I've got plenty of energy left! Besides (she held up a fist proudly) if I can run a whole race, I can walk around Kōchi just fine!

Yasuaki: (under his breath, almost smiling) ...Plenty of energy, huh. Must be nice.

Haru Urara: (tilting her head, blinking) Did you say something, sensei?

Yasuaki: (straightening, voice steady) Nothing. Come on, let's find something to eat before you start dragging me toward every stall you see.

They wandered down the bustling district for ten minutes, vendors calling out their specials, steam curling from iron griddles, and the air thick with irresistible aromas that tugged them from stall to stall.

Urara's nose twitched as she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes darting between two stalls. One had the golden, crisp aroma of takoyaki, the other the savory, smoky scent of yakisoba.

Haru Urara: (clutching her cheeks dramatically) Uwahhh...! Sensei! What do I do?! They both smell so good!

Yasuaki: (coming to a halt beside her, hands still in his pockets) ...You've been staring at those two stalls for a full minute.

Haru Urara: (bouncing in place, ponytail swishing) Because I can't decide! If I get yakisoba, I'll regret not getting takoyaki... but if I get takoyaki, I'll regret not getting yakisoba!

Yasuaki: (flat tone, sighing) That's not a dilemma. That's just a lack of decision-making.

Haru Urara: (pouting) That's easy for you to say, sensei! Don't you ever feel like... like your stomach wants two different things at once?

Yasuaki glanced at the stalls, then back at her exaggerated frown. His eyelids felt heavy, but his mind stayed practical as always.

Yasuaki: (calmly) Then get both. Or better yet... ask if they'll make a half-and-half. A mix. That way you don't waste time agonizing over noodles or octopus balls.

Haru Urara: (blinking, stunned) Ehh?! A mix?! You can do that?!

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow) You won't know until you ask.

Urara's eyes lit up like a child at a festival. She practically skipped to the nearest vendor, bowing and clasping her hands together.

Haru Urara: (excitedly) Um, excuse me! Could I... could I maybe get, like... half yakisoba and half takoyaki? Pretty please?

The stall owner laughed, clearly charmed by her energy. With a good-natured nod, he shouted toward the other stall, and the two vendors quickly worked something out. Within minutes, Urara had a paper tray in her hands - steaming yakisoba on one side, golden-brown takoyaki on the other.

Haru Urara: (eyes sparkling, holding it up like a treasure) Look, sensei! I got both!!

Yasuaki: (suppressing a faint smile, shaking his head) ...Of course you did.

Haru Urara: (taking a big bite of takoyaki, cheeks puffed, eyes sparkling) Mmm! So good! So hot but sooo good!

She blew on the next piece, fanning it frantically before chomping down, bouncing slightly on her heels from the heat and flavor. Without a second thought, she scooped some yakisoba with chopsticks, turned, and shoved it toward Yasuaki's face.

Haru Urara: (excitedly) Sensei, quick! Try this! It's amazing!

Yasuaki: (leaning back slightly, unimpressed) ...I told you to eat.

Before he could protest further, Haru stuffed the yakisoba straight into his mouth. His eyes narrowed faintly as the noodles hit his tongue, but she was already grinning, grabbing a toothpick with a steaming takoyaki ball.

Haru Urara: (beaming) And this one too! Open up!

Yasuaki: (muffled, trying to chew) ...Urara-

Too late. She popped the takiyoki into his mouth right after the yakisoba. Yasuaki froze, chewing slowly, his calm face betraying nothing as Haru clapped her hands together proudly.

Haru Urara: (smiling wide) See? Isn't it great?!

Yasuaki: (finally swallowing, exhaling) It's fine.

Haru Urara: (pouting) "Fine"? That's it?

Yasuaki: (glancing at her, tone flat) You ambushed me with noodles and an octopus ball at the same time. I don't think "fine" is an insult under the circumstances. And be careful not to burn your tounge

Haru Urara: (laughing, cheeks still puffed with food) Pfft-hehehe! You looked so serious chewing both at once, sensei!

Yasuaki: (sighing, pulling out his wallet to pay) ...Glad I could provide entertainment.

He handed the money to the stall owner, bowed slightly, and turned back just in time to see Haru already skipping a few steps ahead, her ponytail swishing as she pointed at another street lined with small souvenir shops.

Haru Urara: (beaming) Sensei, sensei! Let's go there! I need to buy something for King Halo and everyone back at the dorm! Oh, and for my classmates too!

Yasuaki: (falling into step behind her) ...You're going to drag me through every shop, aren't you?

Haru Urara: (grinning innocently) Of course! You said sightseeing, didn't you? That means shopping too!

She darted into the first shop, eyes sparkling at the rows of trinkets and local crafts. Keychains shaped like koi, hand-painted fans, and small packets of Kochi's famous yuzu's candies lined the shelves. Haru practically bounced between them, holding items up to her chest and turning to Yasuaki like a child asking permission.

Haru Urara: (holding up a fan with a cherry blossom design) Do you think King Halo would like this? Or... maybe the candy? She's classy but... she has a sweet tooth sometimes, right?

Yasuaki: (deadpan) You've observed her more than I have. If you're asking me, get both. If she doesn't like one, she'll use the other to scold you with.

Haru Urara: (laughing) Ahaha, true! Okay, both it is!

She grabbed them, then scampered toward another shelf with little stuffed mascots shaped like horses. Yasuaki rubbed the bridge of his nose but didn't stop her.

──────────

The sun had risen high over Kōchi, painting the district streets in gold. After nearly an hour of darting in and out of shops, Haru Urara finally spun on her heel, cheeks faintly flushed with excitement.

Haru Urara: (pointing to a nearby bench) Sensei, wait there! This next one's a girl's privacy thing. You can't follow me inside, okay?

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow) Privacy...? (sighs, waving lazily) Fine. Don't take too long.

He sat on the bench, folding his arms across his chest, eyes slipping shut. Around him, the hum of the marketplace carried - stall owners calling out deals, footsteps of shoppers, the faint chatter of children. But Yasuaki stayed still, his posture straight even as his breathing slowed. He wasn't the type to sprawl or look vulnerable, even when resting, he looked as if he were guarding a gate no one dared cross.

Minutes trickled into nearly half an hour.

When Haru Urara finally reappeared, her arms were stacked with paper bags small trinkets, sweets, souvenirs tucked inside. She spotted him from a distance and slowed her pace, a smile tugging at her lips.

There he was, sitting exactly where she left him. Arms folded, chin dipped slightly forward, his breathing steady.

Haru Urara: (whispering to herself, amused) Sensei... did you really nod off?

She padded closer, careful not to rustle the bags too loudly. His stillness tempted her curiosity, the faintest flicker of playfulness crossing her face. She leaned in, inch by inch, her pink hair swaying forward as she tilted toward him. Just as she was close enough to see the faint shadow of his lashes.

Yasuaki: (opening his eyes suddenly) ...You're back.

Haru Urara: (yelping, stumbling back a step) Kyaa! W-wha-!

Her face bloomed pink, though she quickly turned her head away, trying to mask it as embarrassment from being startled rather than anything else. She puffed her cheeks, hugging the bags to her chest.

Haru Urara: (pouting) Sensei! You scared me! You looked totally asleep!

Yasuaki: (dry, calm) I was asleep. Until I felt something hovering suspiciously close to my face. Especially when my trainee takes thirty minutes for a "quick errand."

Haru Urara: (blinking, tilting her head) Ehh? Thirty minutes? Really? It only felt like... five! Maybe time just runs faster in the shops here!

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow) ...That's not how time works.

Haru Urara: (cheerfully) Well, it does for me! I was looking at all these cute souvenirs, and before I knew it-poof! Bags everywhere! Isn't that amazing?

Yasuaki: (sighing, standing up) What's amazing is that you didn't buy out the entire district.

Haru Urara: (giggling, skipping a step beside him) I thought about it! But then I remembered I still need money for snacks later. See? Responsible!

Yasuaki: (flatly) That's your definition of responsibility?

Haru Urara: (nodding brightly) Yep!

Yasuaki sighed, adjusting the strap of one of her souvenir bags that she "accidentally" handed him.

Yasuaki: ...In that case, Miss Responsible, we should start checking in into the hotel soon.

Haru Urara: (blinking, nearly tripping over her own step) Ehh?! H-Hotel?!

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, tone dry) Don't tell me you thought we were hopping back on a sixteen-hour ride to Tokyo right after sightseeing.

Haru Urara: (grinning sheepishly, scratching her cheek) ...Maaaybe? I mean, I thought-race done, snacks eaten, back home. That's usually how things go!

Yasuaki: (shaking his head) Not this time. I booked us two rooms at Jyoseikan. Open-air bath, public bathhouse, sauna. It'll be easier to rest properly before we deal with another long trip.

Haru Urara: (eyes sparkling like a kid) Ehh?! Open-air bath? Sauna? That sounds amazing!! (pauses, gasping) ...Wait, two rooms?!

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Of course. Did you think I'd make you sleep on a couch or something?

Haru Urara: (laughing nervously) W-well, you do like couches, Sensei...

Yasuaki: (snorting softly) Hey, the one in Yayoi's office is comfortable. Don't mock it.

Haru Urara: (grinning, teasing) You mean the couch where she always yells at you for being lazy?

Yasuaki: (sighs, looking away) ...Details.

Urara giggles, skipping ahead a step before twirling back to walk beside him again, her ponytail swishing like a pendulum.

Yasuaki: (glancing at her, tone steady) Besides, you're a girl. Obviously, it'll be two rooms.

Haru Urara: (beaming, clasping her hands together) Wow~! Sensei, you do have common sense! I was worried for a second!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, adjusting his bag) ...I don't know if I should worry over that comment, Urara.

Haru Urara: (cheerful) Don't worry! I'll praise you every time you do something sensible!

Yasuaki: (flatly) ...That's not comforting.

They continue walking through the warm-lit streets until the towering entrance of Jyoseikan comes into view. The wooden signboard gleams under lantern light, and the faint scent of tatami and hot springs drifts out as sliding doors open. 

The wide interior is polished and welcoming, with soft tatami mats, paper lanterns, and the faint gurgle of indoor water features. Guests pass by in yukata. Urara's eyes practically sparkle as she spins slowly, taking everything in.

Haru Urara: (gasps, spinning around) Woooah! Look, Sensei! The floors are so shiny! And they have actual koi fish in that pond! Ohhh, is that... is that free tea?!

Yasuaki: (placing a hand on her head to stop her spinning) ...Calm down before you trip over your own feet.

Haru Urara: (pouting, hugging her bag) But Sensei! This is amazing! It's like a dream! Do you think the baths are really as big as they say? Can we try them after dinner?!

Yasuaki: (half-sigh, half-chuckle) ...One step at a time. First, check-in. Then we talk about baths.

He heads to the counter, sliding their information across to the clerk. Urara stands beside him, swaying excitedly on her heels, clearly too restless to stay still. The receptionist smiles warmly at them.

Receptionist: Welcome to Jyoseikan. We've prepared two rooms for you. Dinner will be served in the dining hall at 7, and the open-air bath is available until midnight.

Haru Urara: (clapping her hands together) Yay~! Sensei, we're staying in an actual fancy hotel! This is gonna be the best night ever!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, handing her the key) ...Let's save the cheer for later. Put your baggage inside first before you start bouncing off the walls.

Haru Urara: (saluting with a grin) Roger!

She rushes ahead to her door, fumbles with the key for a solid minute, and finally pushes her enormous bag through with a grunt. It tips sideways and gets stuck halfway in the frame. She tugs and pushes dramatically, ears flicking as if it's an epic struggle.

Haru Urara: (panting) Nghh...! Sensei! It's... fighting back!

Yasuaki: (watching flatly) That's because you packed like you were moving to Kōchi permanently.

He steps forward, gives the bag a light shove with his foot, and it slides in easily. Urara stares in disbelief, cheeks puffed in embarrassment.

Haru Urara: (pouting) H-hey! I loosened it first!

Yasuaki: (dryly) Of course you did. Now, hurry. Dinner's at seven.

(Dining Hall, 7:00 PM)

The dining hall glows warmly with lanterns, long tables set with trays of local specialties: katsuo no tataki(smoked tuna) , fresh vegetables, steaming rice, and miso soup. Guests chatter softly, the sound of clinking chopsticks filling the air. Yasuaki and Haru Urara step inside, both in simple yukata , his neat and understated, hers slightly crooked at the collar from rushing.

Haru Urara: (adjusting her sleeve nervously) Sensei, do I look okay? It's my first time wearing a yukata in such a fancy place...

Yasuaki: (glancing at her briefly) Crooked collar.

Haru Urara: (panicking, tugging at it) Ehh?! Where?!

Yasuaki: (reaching out, fixing it in one motion) ...There.

Haru Urara: (blinking, then grinning sheepishly) Hehe... thanks.

They sit down, the smell of seared bonito filling the air as steam curls from their bowls. Urara stares wide-eyed at the spread in front of her

Haru Urara: (awed) Woooah... Sensei, look! There's so much food! Is it okay to eat everything?! 

Yasuaki: (calm, setting his chopsticks) Go all out. It's my treat, after all.

Haru Urara: (gasps, clasping her hands together dramatically) Really?! Don't blame me if I eat enough for two horses, then!

Yasuaki: (flatly) You already did that at the yakisoba and takiyaki stall.

Urara laughs sheepishly, then without hesitation dives for the katsuo no tataki, stuffing a piece into her mouth with an exaggerated happy hum.

Haru Urara: (mouth full, muffled) Mmm! It's so gooood! The outside's all smoky, and the inside's soft-waaah, it melts!

Yasuaki: (taking a quiet bite of pickled cucumber, unfazed) That's what katsuo tataki is supposed to be. Try chewing before announcing your review to the whole hall.

She swallows, pouts slightly, then digs into the rice, alternating between the bonito and miso soup, clearly in heaven. Her eyes flick briefly to the little plate of pickles beside her own tray, and she scrunches her nose, immediately sliding it to the farthest corner of her tray like it's cursed.

Haru Urara: (grimacing) ...Ugh. Pickles.

Yasuaki: (dryly, mid-bite of his own pickled radish) What's wrong with them?

Haru Urara: (shaking her head quickly) Too sour! Too... pickle-y! It ruins the taste of the good stuff!

Yasuaki: (glancing at her, tone flat) ...That's the point. It balances the flavor.

Haru Urara: (puffing her cheeks, stabbing her chopsticks into her rice) Well, my balance comes from more katsuo, carrots, and rice! That's all I need to feel perfect!

Yasuaki: (lifting his teacup, tone flat) Then your so-called "balance" is just overeating.

Haru Urara: (grinning proudly, ignoring him) Mhm! A strong horse needs fuel, right?

She chomps down another bite of katsuo looking absurdly satisfied with herself. Yasuaki doesn't argue further, just finishes the last of his tea with a quiet sigh, letting her chatter run its course. A short while later, Urara's bowls are nearly licked clean, save for the untouched pickles still pushed to the corner like they carried a curse.

Yasuaki: (standing, smoothing his yukata sleeves) Done? Or are you planning to wrestle dessert too?

Haru Urara: (bouncing to her feet, hands on her stomach) Ahaha... nope, I'm stuffed! If I eat more, I might not fit through the bathhouse door!

Yasuaki: (deadpan) That would be your own problem.

Urara laughs anyway, scampering after him as they head down the hall toward the hot spring wing. The gentle smell of hinoki wood grows stronger, the faint trickle of water echoing somewhere beyond the sliding doors. Lanterns glow softly along the path, painting the corridor in gold.

──────────

(Changing Room, Urara POV)

Urara slipped out of her yukata, folding it clumsily before tucking it onto the shelf. Steam drifted faintly from the doorway ahead, carrying the promise of warmth and relaxation. She stretched her arms above her head, humming to herself

Haru Urara: (thinking, cheerfully) Mmm~! A hot spring after racing and sightseeing... This really is the best trip ever. Even Sensei seems a little more relaxed tonight...

She bent down to tie her hair back, fumbling with the ribbon when the sound of a soft voice nearby door made her ears twitch. Turning her head, she blinked in surprise.

Nishino Flower: (blinking shyly, already in a towel, clutching it to her chest) A-Ah... Haru-san?

Haru Urara: (eyes widening, then breaking into a bright grin) Nishino-chan! You're here too?!

The smaller girl nodded timidly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she stepped closer. Her delicate features softened under the lantern glow, still carrying that gentle aura that had lit up the racetrack today.

Nishino Flower: (softly) Y-yes... I'm staying here with my trainer. I... didn't expect to run into you.

Haru Urara: (clasping her hands together, beaming) Ehehe, what a coincidence! First we race together, and now we bath together, too! Fate is funny, huh?

Nishino Flower gave a small laugh, covering her mouth politely. Her towel slipped slightly and she pulled it tighter, glancing toward the doorway leading into the steamy bath.

Nishino Flower: (hesitant) Um... d-do you want to go in together?

Haru Urara: (nodding eagerly) Of course! Let's soak and relax~!

The sliding door creaked open as the two stepped inside. Warm steam enveloped them, blurring the lanterns into soft halos. The bath stretched wide, its water shimmering under the moonlight.

Haru Urara: (grinning from ear to ear) Wooow~! It's huge! Like a whole swimming pool!

Before Nishino could react, Urara sprinted forward, her towel fluttering as she leapt with a playful yell.

Haru Urara: Cannonball!!

SPLASH!

Water surged up, waves lapping against the edges of the stones. A nearby sign, clearly written: "No diving or splashing." Nishino gasped, covering her mouth with both hands as droplets sprinkled her hair.

Nishino Flower: (flustered, voice soft but scolding) H-Haru-san! You're not supposed to dive in...! The sign says so...

Haru Urara: (popping up from the water, laughing sheepishly) Eheh... really? Oops! I was too excited...

She rubbed the back of her head, ears twitching as she floated lazily, grinning like nothing happened. Nishino stepped carefully into the bath, sinking with a sigh, her expression still faintly troubled.

Haru Urara: (tilting her head toward Nishino, wide-eyed) Ne, Nishino-chan... you were amazing out there! You just-fwoosh! (she flails her arms, splashing) -right past everyone at the end! I couldn't even believe my eyes!

Nishino Flower: (blushing, shaking her head quickly) N-no, no... it wasn't amazing. I was just... lucky the timing worked. If the others had pushed harder, I wouldn't have been able to pass.

Haru Urara: (leaning forward, pouting) Eeeh? Don't say that! You were incredible! Everyone was staring at you at the finish line... it was like you bloomed right on the track!

Nishino lowered her gaze, ripples forming as she traced a finger across the water. Her voice was soft, but sincere.

Nishino Flower: ...But Haru-san, you did really well too. Fifth place, in your very first race. That's not something to laugh at.

Haru Urara: (ears twitching, blinking in surprise) Me? But I didn't even reach the fourth place Yasuaki-sensei thought I could... I was so close, but Yakushima was just too fast.

Nishino Flower: (soft but firm) Even so, you didn’t give up. You sprinted with everything you had. That’s not something everyone can do.

Urara paused, taken aback. For once, she didn’t have an immediate reply. Her usual grin softened into something more thoughtful as she sank a little deeper into the bath, the steam brushing her pink cheeks.

Haru Urara: (murmuring, eyes glancing up) …You really think so?

Nishino Flower: (nodding, smiling gently) Mhm. When I saw you running behind me, even though you were tired… it made me want to run harder too.

Urara blinked, then suddenly broke into her trademark bright smile again, splashing a little water in excitement.

Haru Urara: Hehe~! Then that means we helped each other, right? You pushed me, and I pushed you!

Nishino Flower: (covering her mouth as she giggled softly) Y-yes… something like that.

The two girls splashed lightly at each other, the steam wrapping around them as their laughter echoed across the spring. Nishino tried to shield herself from Urara’s playful waves of water, but even her soft giggles slipped out in response. Urara, with her ponytail damp and sticking to her cheek, leaned back against the rocks and hummed her little tune “Ura ra ra~,” while Nishino shook her head with an affectionate smile

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the divider, Yasuaki sat submerged up to his shoulders, eyes half-lidded from fatigue. The steam curled lazily in the night air as he leaned back against the stone, letting his thoughts settle after a long day. His phone buzzed from where he had set it on a dry towel beside the bath. With a low exhale, he reached out and checked the screen.

A single message lit up the display. The sender’s name: Teio.

[ Teio:Yasuaki~! Guess what?! I've been giving alot of thoughts about this but I’m joining Team Spica!  just trust me, it’s gonna be the best thing ever!!]

Yasuaki muttered aloud, voice flat as his eyes scanned the words.

Yasuaki: (muttering) …Ohh, I see. Teio is joining Spica.

He set the phone down onto the folded towel beside him, closing his eyes again. But then,his head snapped up, eyes wide as the words caught up to him. He surged out of the water with a splash, hair dripping, arms braced on the stone edge.

Yasuaki: (shouting, echoing across the bath)  TEIO IS JOINING SPICA?!

Chapter 3 end 

To be continue...

Chapter Text

[Spica Clubroom – Two Days Later]

The sun streamed through the tall windows of the Tracen Academy clubhouse. Posters of past races lined the walls, and the faint smell of sweat and liniment hung in the air. Inside, laughter and chatter filled the room,  Spica was never quiet. Yasuaki stood by the door, arms folded, his expression unreadable as Teio bounced in place, full of restless energy.

Yasuaki: (flatly) …So let me make sure I heard this right. You saw Special week run her debut, win, and decided ,  without thinking it through to join Spica on the spot.

Tokai Teio: (grinning, hands on her hips) Not “without thinking”! I did think about it! I saw how fun it looked, and I thought, “Yep! That’s where I belong!"

Yasuaki: (pinching the bridge of his nose) Teio. That’s not thinking. That’s impulse with extra steps.

Tokai Teio: (leaning forward, bratty grin) Oh, come on! Since when did you become the boring old man who hates fun? You’re only eighteen!

Yasuaki: (sighing, muttering) …Feels like fifty when I’m dealing with you.

Around them, the rest of Spica had gathered, curious about the unfamiliar face.

Special Week: (tilting her head, blinking innocently) Um… who is this guy?

Daiwa Scarlet: (crossing her arms, raising an eyebrow) Yeah, Teio, he doesn’t look like he belongs here.

Vodka: (snorting) Definitely doesn’t have a Spica vibe. Too stiff.

Gold Ship: (grinning mischievously, creeping up behind Yasuaki) Maybe he’s an undercover coach! Or… Teio’s secret boyfriend!

Yasuaki & Teio: (snapping in unison) HE’S NOT!! / I’M NOT!!

The room burst into laughter, except for Yasuaki, who looked like he was reconsidering his life choices.

Yasuaki: (flat, glaring at Gold Ship) …I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.

Tokai Teio: (puffing her cheeks, pointing at him) And stop glaring like that! You’ll scare everyone off!

Yasuaki: (dryly) I didn’t glare at you when you tripped over your own feet last week.

Tokai Teio: (flustered) H-hey! Don’t bring that up in front of everyone!

Suzuka, standing quietly nearby, finally spoke, her calm presence cutting through the noise. Yasuaki’s eyes flicked to her, a hint of surprise breaking his usual mask.

Yasuaki: (blinking) …Suzuka? You’re here?

Silence Suzuka: (smiling softly, nodding) Yes. I transferred. I thought Spica… might be a better fit.

Yasuaki: (to himself, muttering) From Rigil to Spica… that’s unexpected.

Special Week, still curious, leaned toward the Spica trainer  whispering just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Special Week: (curious) So… who is he?

Pervert Senpai: (grinning, slapping Yasuaki’s shoulder without hesitation) That’s Yasuaki Akikawa. Sharp tongue, sharper brain, lazy as hell. I’m sure you’ve all heard of him too ,  he’s the Director’s older brother.

Yasuaki: (brushing his hand off, tone flat) …Don’t touch me.

Tokai Teio: (laughing, hands on her hips) See? He’s always like that. Grumpy, sarcastic, impossible. But! He’s my childhood friend, so I know how to deal with him!

Yasuaki: (arching a brow, dryly) “Deal with me”? More like drag me into trouble I never asked for.

Tokai Teio: (bratty grin) And you always bail me out anyway! Admit it, you’d miss me if I didn’t!

Yasuaki: (exhaling through his nose, glancing away) …That’s not the point. The point is you joined Spica without thinking about what that means.

Tokai Teio: (puffing cheeks, crossing arms) I did think! I want to run here, with them! It’s fun, it feels right. What’s wrong with that?!

Yasuaki: (tone firm, but not unkind)Because you don’t think about the after. You throw yourself in headfirst, then I’m the one stuck patching you up.

Tokai Teio: (stomping lightly, leaning forward) I don’t need patching up! I can handle it, Yasuaki! You don’t have to baby me!

Yasuaki: (low voice, almost muttering)I’m not trying to baby you… I just don’t want to see you break yourself.

For a brief second, Teio blinked ,  her bratty grin softening, her expression flickering with something more vulnerable. But she quickly bounced back, clapping her hands together with her usual energy.

Tokai Teio: (grinning wide again) Then don’t worry! I’m Tokai Teio, future Triple Crown winner! There’s no way I’ll break! I’ve told you before ,  when you reached out to me last time, and I said no. You respected my choice then… don’t you trust me now?

Her words hit deeper than she probably realized. Yasuaki’s shoulders slumped slightly. He rubbed at the back of his neck, exhaling slowly as though the fight had drained out of him.

Yasuaki: (grumbling, running a hand through his hair) …You really know how to corner me, don’t you? Fine, suit yourself. But don’t come looking for me if something happens.

He pushed his chair back sharply, the scrape echoing. Without another word, he stood and made for the door, each step deliberate and heavy. His jaw was tight, eyes shadowed with irritation more than anger.

Gold Ship: (whispering dramatically to Vodka) Oooh, stormy exit alert. Ten out of ten for flair.

Vodka: (snorting) He’s got a stick up his ass, that’s for sure.

Daiwa Scarlet: (frowning, crossing her arms) Oi, don’t say it like that. He’s just… worried. Can’t you see that?

Pervert Senpai: (leaning back in his chair, grin lazy) That’s Yasuaki for you. He cares, but he’ll bite his own lip bloody before admitting it.

Tokai Teio: (calling after him, voice wavering ) Yasuaki! …Geez, why do you always have to act like the whole world’s gonna fall apart?

Yasuaki paused at the doorway, shoulders tensing , but he didn’t turn back. His voice came low, almost a growl.

Yasuaki: (without looking back) Because sometimes it does.

He walked out, the door shutting behind him with a firm click. The silence that followed was heavy , even Gold Ship didn’t joke right away. Teio’s grin faltered just slightly, though she masked it quickly, puffing her cheeks and planting her hands on her hips.

Tokai Teio: (huffing) Don’t worry about him. He’s just like that. Always has been.

Special Week: (tilting her head, curious, her tone gentle) …He really seemed worried about you, Teio-chan.

Tokai Teio: (grinning again, bouncing back) He always worries too much! That’s why I gotta run even harder ,to show him he doesn’t need to.

Silence hung a moment, before Suzuka spoke up, her voice softer, more serious.

Suzuka: (gazing toward the door Yasuaki left from) …Still, he looked genuinely worried for you. Not just like a trainer , more like… someone who really doesn’t want to see you hurt.

Teio’s grin faltered. Her hands, still on her hips, slackened just slightly. For a flicker, her eyes shifted down, vulnerable, before she quickly tried to force her usual brightness back.

Tokai Teio: (murmuring) …He always has that look. Like he’s carrying more than he should.

Pervert Senpai: (stepping forward with a small grin, laying a firm hand on Teio’s shoulder) Oi, don’t let it weigh you down. That’s just Yasuaki’s way. You run your race, Teio. That’s what he’s really asking of you.

Teio blinked, shoulders relaxing a little at the reassuring weight of his hand. She drew in a breath, then puffed her cheeks, forcing a smile back onto her face.

Tokai Teio: (louder, with mock bravado) Hmph! Then I’ll run so hard he won’t even have time to sulk about it! Just you all watch , future Triple Crown winner Tokai Teio doesn’t lose to worrywarts!

Gold Ship: (grinning wildly) Oooooh, there it is! The comeback speech! Beautiful, Teio! Ten outta ten!

Vodka: (snorting, smirking) Tch, she’s got fire. I like it.

Daiwa Scarlet: (relieved, smiling faintly) That’s more like it.

──────────

(Tracen’s east track)

Haru Urara was doubled over near the rail, hands braced against her knees, chest heaving as she tried to gulp down air between gasps. Sweat dripped from her pink bangs, clinging to her flushed cheeks, but her wide smile stubbornly refused to fade.

Yasuaki stood a few meters away, arms crossed, notebook tucked under one arm. His gaze wasn’t entirely fixed on Urara , instead, it drifted, unfocused, as though weighing something else entirely. His brow furrowed, lips pressed thin.

Haru Urara: (panting, waving a hand weakly) …S-sensei…! What’s next? Don’t tell me you’re cooking up more squats…!

No answer. Yasuaki hadn’t moved, hadn’t even looked up. His sharp eyes were narrowed, but they were turned somewhere else entirely ,  toward thoughts that lingered far from this track.

Haru Urara: (tilting her head, ears twitching, calling louder) Yasuaki-sensei! Heeey! Earth to Sensei!

Still nothing. Urara puffed her cheeks, wobbling forward with all the grace of someone whose legs felt like jelly. She gave him a playful poke in the arm, startling him enough to blink and finally turn his gaze on her.

Yasuaki: (flat, but with a faint sigh) …You’re supposed to be recovering, not poking at your trainer.

Haru Urara: (grinning, though still breathless) And you’re supposed to be training me, not… staring at clouds or whatever! What’s on your mind, sensei?

Yasuaki’s eyes lingered on her for a moment ,  wide smile, sweat-streaked cheeks, hair stuck to her forehead, yet still brimming with life despite the fatigue.

Yasuaki: (calm, tone leveled) …Don’t worry about it. Focus on yourself. You’ve got another set coming.

Haru Urara: (groaning dramatically, falling back onto the track with arms flailing) Eeeeh?! Sensei, my legs are screaming! They’re literally saying, “Please, no more!”

Yasuaki: (sighing, crouching slightly so he’s eye-level with her) That just means they’re working. Endurance isn’t built when it feels easy ,it’s built here, when you want to quit.

He tapped his notebook with the back of his pen, then stood again, calm but steady.

Yasuaki: Two more interval sprints. Four hundred meters each. Think of it this way , every lap you finish now is one step closer to holding your ground in the next race.

Haru Urara: (sitting up, still pouting, but her ears twitch at his words) …One step closer, huh…?

Yasuaki: (softening slightly) At this pace, you’re not at the front yet, but you can get closer. That’s enough to fight for. Remember, the goal is steady improvement. Do you want to focus on maintaining your position, or aim to move up from fourth instead of falling behind?

Urara blinked at him, her pout turning into something more thoughtful. Her wide eyes shimmered with a spark of determination, though her grin quickly followed anyway. She smacked her cheeks with both hands and stood, wobbly but defiant.

Haru Urara: (brightly) Climbing higher, of course! Even if it’s just one spot at a time  I’ll climb!

Yasuaki exhaled slowly, closing his notebook. His eyes lingered on her  messy, exhausted, still panting, but unshakably bright. That smile of hers wasn’t just for herself. It was for everyone watching her, cheering for her, believing in her. For a fleeting moment, it reminded him of the weight he was carrying elsewhere , Teio’s words, Spica’s noisy chatter, the expectations pressing down on his shoulders. His jaw tightened.

Yasuaki (thoughts):[ …I don’t have the luxury of being distracted. Not now. She’s my responsibility. If I can’t keep my focus here, then I’ll fail her.]

He straightened, voice returning to its usual calm but steady tone, deliberately pushing away his inner dilemmas.

Yasuaki: Good. Then let’s keep climbing. Two four-hundred meter sprints. Don’t think about winning or losing yet — just think about what it feels like to push past your limit without breaking. If you can learn that, you’ll last longer when the real race pushes you.

Haru Urara: (grinning wide, raising a fist) Aye aye, sensei! Even if my legs explode, I’ll keep running!

──────────

( In yayoi office next day ) 

Morning sunlight spilled through the wide windows of the Tracen Academy director’s office. Papers were neatly stacked on Yayoi Akikawa’s desk, her pen gliding across them with brisk efficiency. Behind her, however, sprawled across the infamous couch with his arm draped over his eyes, was none other than her brother, Yasuaki. His steady breathing made it painfully obvious that he had been asleep for quite some time.

Yayoi: (without looking up, her tone dripping with sarcasm) …Truly, Onii-chan, your contributions to the Academy are immeasurable. Watching you snore through paperwork is exactly what Mother dreamed of when she passed this position down.

Yasuaki: (muffled, from under his arm) Mm. Relax, Yayoi. I just came back from Kōchi. Long trip. Couch is surprisingly therapeutic for recovery.

Yayoi:  I know. I received the reports. Fifth place in her first race. Not bad, considering her track record.

Yasuaki: (nodding, tone even) She ran with everything she had. That smile of hers carried her farther than I thought. Still a long road ahead.

Yayoi leaned back in her chair, arms crossing. Though her words were curt, her eyes softened slightly.

Yayoi: Hmph. At least you’re doing something. I’ll admit, I was… skeptical when you chose her. But perhaps I underestimated your judgment.

Yasuaki: (dryly, smirking faintly) Praise from the director herself? Careful, people might think you’ve gone soft.

Yayoi: (irritated, a vein twitching at her temple) Don’t push it.

She sighed, then opened a drawer, pulling out a document and sliding it across her desk. Yasuaki’s eyes flicked down to it  , a race listing, stamped and official.

Yayoi: Her next entry is already registered. The Tosa Dawn Cup. A local 1,500-meter turf race, scheduled in three weeks. The competition will be steeper than Kōchi.

Yasuaki: (picking up the paper, scanning it) Tosa Dawn Cup… (murmuring thoughtfully) …Three weeks, fifteen hundred meters. Not much time, but enough to sharpen her pacing.

Yayoi: (nodding firmly) If she places again, even middle-field, it will build momentum. Fail, and people will dismiss her as a one-off fluke. Her reputation hangs on this.

Yasuaki’s gaze lingered on the paper a moment longer before setting it back down. His expression was calm, but in his chest a quiet determination stirred. He leaned back on the couch, folding his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly as though already seeing the path ahead

A long sigh escaped him. For once, the words that usually stayed in his head slipped past his lips.

Yasuaki: (muttering aloud, unaware) Two weeks, huh… That’s going to be tough. Getting her in proper shape with her short attention span… she drifts the second she sees something shiny. (pauses, then adds) Maybe… I should form a team around her. Something to keep her motivated.

The scratching of Yayoi’s pen stopped. She looked up slowly, surprise flickering for just a moment before her lips curved into a knowing smile. Her voice carried that familiar mix of sarcasm and fondness.

Yayoi: (smirking faintly) Well, well. The great “Couch-bound Genius” actually admitting he needs to put in work. At least my Onii-chan finally sounds like he has a plan.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, side-eyeing her) Don’t start writing a report on it.

Yayoi: (leaning her cheek against her hand, amused) Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. But you’re right , Urara won’t thrive on her own. She needs support, examples, rivals? … people to push her forward. If you build that team, you’ll not only keep her focused, but you’ll finally stop cluttering up my office.

Yasuaki: (sighing, rubbing his temple) …Always comes back to the couch with you. What has a poor piece of fabric ever done to you?

Yayoi: (snapping her pen down, glaring) That “poor piece of fabric” has hosted your naps more than it’s hosted actual work, Onii-chan. At this point, it should be included on the payroll.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Hm. I’ll send it a gift basket. Fruits, maybe. A nice card thanking it for its service.

Yayoi: (pinching the bridge of her nose, muttering) …This is what I deal with. Day after day.

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) Director of Tracen Academy, defeated not by competitors or paperwork, but by a sofa.

Yayoi: (slamming her palm on the desk, voice rising) Don’t act like it isn’t your fault! That couch has been stretched out of shape because of you!

Yasuaki: (glancing lazily at the couch, then back at her) It’s still holding fine. Stronger than some directors I know.

Yayoi: (vein popping, standing abruptly) Onii-chan!

Yasuaki: (leaning back, unfazed) What? I meant it as a compliment.

Before Yayoi could retaliate further, the office door burst open. Hayakawa Tazuna rushed in, clipboard in hand, her usual calm demeanor rattled with urgency.

Tazuna: (hurried, almost breathless)Director! Emergency ,  one of the classroom instructors has fallen sick. We need a substitute immediately to cover the lesson.

Yayoi: (leaning back in her chair, fingers tapping the desk, tone “innocent”) Hmm… that is quite the predicament. We are short on staff right now. If only… (her gaze drifts slowly toward the couch) …there was someone clever enough to step in.

Yasuaki: (without opening his eyes) Don’t look at me. I’m furniture at this point.

Yayoi: (smirking) Oh, don’t sell yourself short, Onii-chan. Even a sofa can be useful. You just need to stand up and speak.

Yasuaki: (cracking one eye open, flatly) …That’s crueler than usual.

Tazuna: (awkwardly glancing between them) Director, with respect, the class can’t be left unattended. If we don’t send someone in now—

Yayoi: (snapping her fingers, pointing dramatically at Yasuaki) Then it’s decided! Onichan, you’re filling in.

Yasuaki: (sits up slowly, glaring at her) …On what authority?

Yayoi: (sweetly, folding her arms) Director’s authority.

Yasuaki: (dryly) Abuse of power.

Yayoi: (grinning) Family discount.

Yasuaki: (pinching the bridge of his nose) You’re enjoying this too much.

Yayoi: (leaning forward) Immeasurably. Now get moving.

Tazuna: (relieved) I’ll guide you to the classroom right away!

Yasuaki: (yawning, dragging his feet as he gets up from the couch) …This is extortion. Pure extortion. I should file a complaint with labor management.

Yayoi: (calling after him, amused) You are the complaint department, Onii-chan.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, walking down the hall after Tazuna) Wonderful. Truly wonderful.

They reached the classroom door. Yasuaki pushed it open lazily, still rubbing at his eyes. The chatter inside quieted as the students turned to see who it was. Without much ceremony, he walked straight to the blackboard, picked up the chalk, and wrote his name in clear strokes:

“Akikawa Yasuaki.”

Yasuaki: (flat, still not looking at the class) …Temporary substitute. Don’t expect much.

From the desks, Haru Urara’s ears perked straight up the moment she saw him. Her eyes went wide, sparkling as she almost shot out of her seat.

Haru Urara: (brightly, waving both hands) Sensei?! You’re teaching here too?!

Yasuaki: (pausing mid-chalk, finally glancing at the class… sighs faintly) …Of course it’s your classroom. Figures.

The room stirred with whispers.

At the front row sat Narita Top Road, posture proper and eyes gleaming with respect.

Narita Top Road: (earnest, raising a hand) Wait, the Yasuaki Akikawa? The strategist? I’ve read about some of your training methods! It’s an honor, sir!

Yasuaki: (tilting his head slightly, tone flat) …Honor, huh. That’s a first. Usually people just call me lazy.

Narita Top Road: (smiling warmly) Genius can afford a little rest!

From the corner, Admire Vega remained quiet, eyes half-closed as if measuring him. She didn’t move, didn’t comment — her silence was almost heavier than words.

Meanwhile, sitting just behind Urara, Rice Shower fiddled nervously with her pencil, her long hair draping like a curtain. She leaned close, her voice barely a whisper.

Rice Shower: (timidly) …He… looks nice. N-not scary like some teachers…

Haru Urara: (turning with a wide grin, whispering back much louder than necessary) Right?! He’s suuuper nice—well, he acts grumpy, but he’s actually really kind!

Yasuaki: (glancing over his shoulder at them, deadpan) …Urara. Whispering usually works better if you actually lower your voice.

Urara: (sheepish grin, scratching her cheek) Eheh… sorry, sensei.

The class chuckled again, breaking some of the stiffness in the air. Finally, Yasuaki set the chalk down and leaned against the desk, folding his arms.

Yasuaki: (dryly, facing the class) …Today’s lesson is simple. Rankings. Every Uma Musume will face them. They decide who gets praised, who gets ignored, and who gets forgotten. It’s not kind, but it’s the reality of the track.

A hush fell over the room, the weight of his tone dragging their attention forward. Even Vega, who had been sitting with her chin propped in her hand, lifted her gaze slightly to him.

Yasuaki: (crossing his arms) Now, let’s test how much you actually know. Someone tell me,what’s the difference between a Graded Stakes race and an Open Class race?

Narita Top Road: (raising her hand, confident) Graded Stakes are nationally recognized, high-prestige races G1, G2, G3. Open Class is… well, still strong competition, but without national grading!

Yasuaki: (nodding slightly) Correct.

His eyes shifted across the classroom, finally settling on the quietest girl—Rice Shower.

Yasuaki: (flat, but not unkind) you, What about Listed races?

Rice blinked, stiffening. She gripped her notebook tightly, her voice wavering.

Rice Shower: (timid, stammering) L-listed… races… um… They’re… right under Graded… but above Open… kind of like a step up before G3…

Yasuaki: (after a pause, nodding once) …Exactly. That’s right.

Rice’s eyes widened slightly, relief flooding her expression. She almost smiled, whispering under her breath—

Rice Shower: (softly) …I got it right…

From her seat, Vega finally spoke, her voice low and steady.

Admire Vega: (calmly) Then the system itself is just a ladder. The real pressure is that most runners never climb high enough to matter.

Yasuaki: (glancing at her, faint smirk tugging his lips) …Sharp. You get it.

He turned back to the blackboard, tapping the chalk once against it before writing in bold strokes:

“THE PINNACLE”

Yasuaki: (tone steady, but carrying weight) Then let me ask you this. What is the ultimate goal—what does it take for an Uma Musume to be considered among the very best?

The room buzzed with thought. Narita Top Road straightened, eager to answer, but another girl blurted out first.

Classmate: (confidently) That’s easy! It’s winning the Japan Cup, right? Whoever takes that is the best!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, shaking his head)Wrong. The Japan Cup is prestigious, yes, but one trophy doesn’t define greatness.

He set the chalk down and crossed his arms, his gaze sweeping the room.

Yasuaki: The true measure? The Triple Crown. Win the Satsuki Shō, Tokyo Yūshun, and Kikuka Shō all three—and you’ve proven yourself against every field, every distance, every rival. That is when people start whispering your name alongside legends.

The air in the classroom tightened. Even Urara, who rarely kept serious, sat up straighter.

Yasuaki: (voice lowering, almost as if telling a story) There was one who did exactly that. She didn’t just win them. She was undefeated through it all. Symboli Rudolf, the “Emperor.” Her Triple Crown run cemented her as one of the greatest.

Admire Vega’s calm eyes flickered with interest, her lips pressing together thoughtfully. Narita Top Road clenched her fists, inspired by the weight of the words. Rice Shower fidgeted, whispering softly under her breath.

Rice Shower: (quietly, to herself) …Triple Crown… impossible… but… amazing…

Urara raised her hand hesitantly, her usual grin returning despite the heavy air.

Haru Urara: (cheerfully) Sooo… if I win all three, I could be like Rudolf-san too?

A few students chuckled at her innocence, but Yasuaki’s gaze lingered on her for a moment. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Yasuaki: (flat, but not unkind) …Let’s focus on finishing your races first. But yes, if you somehow pulled it off, no one would ever doubt your name again.

Urara Haru: (pumping her fist with sparkling eyes) Then that’s my goal too! Triple Crown, here I come!

Yasuaki: (muttering under his breath, exasperated) …She makes it sound like grocery shopping.

Hours passed under Yasuaki’s steady lecture, his voice guiding students through lessons as they took notes or daydreamed. When the bell rang, the classroom erupted into chatter, desks scraping and lunch boxes opening, and any lingering tension melted into the warmth of break time.

Urara, still bouncing with energy despite the drills she had done the previous day, hopped up from her seat. Rice Shower, who had been sitting quietly beside her, peeked from behind her bangs, watching the class noise rise like a tide.

Haru Urara: (beaming, clasping her hands together) Sensei! Sensei! Come eat with us! You can’t just run away after class—join me and Rice for lunch!

Yasuaki: (arching a brow, leaning back against the desk he was half-sitting on) Lunch… with you two?

Haru Urara: (nodding rapidly, ponytail bouncing) Yep! It’ll be fun! Right, Rice?

Rice hesitated, fingers curling lightly around the edges of her lunchbox.

Rice Shower: (softly) …I-I don’t mind. If Sensei wants to…

For that moment, the classroom noise faded to nothing. Her gaze was soft, yes, but behind that softness simmered something else: quiet fire, the kind of determination that couldn’t be shouted out loud, only carried within. It struck him harder than he expected.

Almost unconsciously, Yasuaki straightened and leaned slightly forward, eyes narrowing as he studied her face more closely. The distance between them closed in a heartbeat, his sharp stare fixed entirely on her.

Yasuaki: (low, almost to himself) …Those eyes. You’ve got speed in you, don’t you?

Rice Shower: (startled, voice trembling) E-eh…?!

Her breath caught, her body stiffening under the intensity of his stare. Her cheeks flushed pink as she instinctively stepped back,  But Yasuaki didn’t move, still watching her as though trying to read every hidden thought behind her eyes.

Haru Urara: (tilting her head, cluelessly cheerful) Sensei? You’re staring super close. Are you checking if Rice forgot her lunch or something?

The words broke the tension in an instant. Rice stumbled back another step, her bangs falling to cover her red cheeks.

Rice Shower: (flustered, murmuring) P-please… don’t look at me like that…

Yasuaki: (raising his hands slightly, tone calm) Sorry, sorry. I got absorbed. When I see someone with potential, I… forget myself. By the way, I didn’t get your name.

Before Rice could mumble an answer, Urara jumped in with her usual boundless energy.

Haru Urara: (grinning wide, pointing proudly at Rice) She’s Rice Shower! My best friend ever! We’ve been together since before classes even started!

Yasuaki’s expression shifted, a flicker of recognition sparking in his usually calm eyes.

Yasuaki: (thoughtful, almost muttering) Rice Shower… so it really is you. The girl who tore up the fields in elementary. Fast even in junior high… I’ve read whispers about you here and there.

Rice’s eyes widened, her face turning a deeper shade of red as she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.

Rice Shower: (soft, flustered) I-I… that was just the past… I-I’m not really…

Haru Urara: (clapping her hands, cutting off Rice’s protest) See?! I told you you’re amazing, Rice! Even Sensei knows about you!

Yasuaki sighed faintly, folding his arms.

Yasuaki: Standing here in the hallway isn’t the best place to talk about this. Let’s go to the cafeteria before Urara decides to hold a press conference about her “best friend.”

Haru Urara: (pouting playfully) Hey! It’s not a press conference, it’s just the truth!

Despite her protests, Urara eagerly grabbed Rice’s wrist and tugged her along. Rice stumbled after her, still red-faced but with a small, shy smile forming. Yasuaki followed at his usual unhurried pace, watching the two quietly.

The cafeteria buzzed with students, trays clattering and voices overlapping in a steady hum. Urara bounced on her heels as she stacked food onto her tray—far more than she could realistically finish—while Rice hesitated, choosing carefully with a modest plate. Yasuaki, as always, selected the bare minimum and moved on.

Urara plopped down at the first open table she spotted, already tearing into her katsudon with stars in her eyes.

Haru Urara: (cheeks puffed, mouth full) Mmm~! Sensei, Rice, this is sooo good!

Yasuaki: (sitting across from them, folding his arms) You’ll choke if you don’t slow down.

Haru Urara: (muffled, waving her chopsticks) I-it’s fine!

Rice, more composed, set her tray down neatly and picked at her salad before Yasuaki’s sharp gaze shifted toward her.

Yasuaki: (steady, direct) Rice Shower. Tell me , do you see any results from your own training?

Rice blinked, taken aback at the straightforwardness. But instead of retreating, she leaned back slightly, thinking aloud as if answering herself as much as him.

Rice Shower: …Honestly? Not really. Since my debut, it feels like I’ve been slipping. The gap between me and the front runners… it’s like no matter how hard I push, I can’t close it.

Her fork tapped against the plate as she frowned, not with shyness but with frustration at her own progress.

Haru Urara: (perking up mid-bite, leaning forward) Eh? Really? But you’re so fast, Rice! I always thought you were amazing!

Rice Shower: (shaking her head lightly, tone casual) Speed’s one thing. But races aren’t just about running as fast as you can. Timing, positioning… I keep messing those up. And each mistake makes the gap feel even bigger.

Yasuaki studied her with a faint narrowing of his eyes.

Yasuaki: (murmuring) …So, it’s not your legs holding you back. It’s everything around them.

Rice raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued but not yet convinced, while Urara stuffed another bite in her mouth, cheeks puffed again.

Haru Urara: (pointing her chopsticks between them) Sensei, you sound like you’re scheming something again.

Yasuaki: (flatly) Of course I am. I have to think about your next match , the Tosa Dawn Cup. Three days since your debut, and we’ve got three weeks to sharpen you for another fifteen hundred meters. That’s not a lot of time.

Haru Urara: (choking on her rice, flailing her hands) E-EHHH?! M-my… my next race already?! I thought I’d get to… you know… celebrate first!

Yasuaki: (sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose) Celebrate by sleeping through training, maybe. No ,  this is the pace of competition. You want to climb? You keep running. Simple as that.

Urara whined dramatically, collapsing halfway across the table as if the weight of responsibility itself had crushed her. Rice gave a small, amused chuckle, watching the exchange before Yasuaki’s attention shifted back to her.

Yasuaki: Rice Shower. You said the gap keeps widening even though your legs aren’t failing you. That tells me it’s not raw speed — it’s application.

Rice Shower: (raising an eyebrow) Application?

Yasuaki: Positioning. Reading pace. Conserving for the last stretch. From the way you describe your races… (he rests his chin on one hand, eyes narrowing slightly) …you’re running headlong into traps without realizing it. You don’t have a trainer drilling those details into you, do you?

Rice Shower: (pausing, stabbing her fork into a leaf of lettuce) …No. Not exactly. I’ve been trying to handle it on my own. Thought I could figure it out by running harder, but…

Yasuaki: (dryly) Running harder only means hitting the same wall faster. If you want to stop sliding back, you’ll need more than stamina. You’ll need eyes outside the track.

Haru Urara: (sitting back up, blinking between them) Wait, wait, wait. Sensei, you’ve never even seen Rice race before, and you’re already pointing out her weak spots?

Yasuaki: (calm, tapping his finger  on the table once) It’s simple Uma theory. Things I learned in university, plus a few lectures I still remember. Racing leaves patterns. All I had to do was listen.

Rice Shower: (eyeing him curiously) You make it sound like solving an equation.

Yasuaki: (shrugging) In a way, it is. Every runner has variables. Stamina, stride, awareness, spirit. Put them together right, and the answer changes.

Haru Urara: (leaning forward, ponytail bouncing) Then… then maybe if you helped Rice-chan too, she could find her answer faster!

Rice Shower: (blinking, flustered) Eh? Urara… I never said—

Haru Urara: (beaming) It’d be like a club! Yasuaki-sensei leading us, and we can train together! That way it’s not just me squeaking alone during stretches!

Yasuaki: (eyeing Urara, deadpan but faintly amused) A club, huh. Urara… are you secretly a telepathic reader? Because I was planning to start one.

Haru Urara: (gasping, slamming her hands on the table) EHH?! Sensei, really?! See, see! I knew it! I’m a genius!!

Rice Shower: (covering her mouth, whispering with a small smile) More like lucky guess…

Yasuaki: (muttering, smirking faintly) Genius isn’t the word I’d use.

Haru Urara: (puffing her cheeks, pointing at him with chopsticks) Don’t ruin my moment, Sensei! So what’s the club name? Do we get jackets? A clubhouse? A flag?!

Yasuaki: (sighing, resting his chin on his hand) …It’s not a sports anime, Urara. Calm down. The point is efficiency. If I group my trainees together, you push each other harder. That’s what matters.

Rice Shower: (lowering her gaze, stirring her food with her chopsticks, her thoughts lingering) Efficiency… pushing each other harder… He sounds blunt, but he’s not wrong. Ever since my debut, the gap only grew. I’ve been running in circles, alone. Maybe… maybe with him, it’ll be different…

She looks up at Yasuaki, his expression calm but sharp, like he’s already calculating three steps ahead. For a second, Rice almost feels as if he can already see her future on the track.

Rice Shower: (softly, but with a small nod) …Alright. I’ll join.

Haru Urara: (shooting up from her seat, nearly spilling her tray) YAAAY!! We’re a team now!! Sensei, Sensei! What’s our club name?! We need one! Right now!

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, exhaling slowly as if dragged into her enthusiasm) A name, huh…

He leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. For a moment, the cafeteria chatter seems to blur as he considers something quietly to himself. Then, his lips curve in the faintest smirk.

Yasuaki: …Lumina.

Haru Urara: (tilting her head, ears twitching) Lumina?

Yasuaki: (nodding once, steady tone) Light. Guidance. No matter how far behind, light doesn’t vanish. You chase it, and you grow stronger. That’s the point.

Haru Urara: (clasping Rice’s hands, bouncing excitedly) Rice-chan, did you hear that?! We’re Lumina now! We’re gonna shine so bright, everyone will need sunglasses!

Rice Shower: (smile) …It’s a good name. Simple, but… warm.

Yasuaki: (tilting his head) …Rice, what’s your next race?

Rice Shower: (straightening a little, her voice steady) …The Kisaragi Sho. It’s an 1,800-meter race.A little longer than the common prep races, but I think I can handle it.

Haru Urara: (ears twitching, tilting her head) Eighteen hundred? That’s… (counting with her fingers) three hundred more than mine, right? Wah, that sounds tough!

Rice Shower: (shaking her head, calmly) It’s not bad for me. I can manage stamina at that range. Where I really start to suffer is twenty-five hundred turf. My pace breaks down there , I can’t hold form.

Yasuaki: (eyes narrowing, filing it away in thought) Hm. So your ceiling’s visible, but you know your range. That’s good. Better than overreaching. (he leans back, faint relief in his tone) If you’re confident in eighteen hundred, that means I don’t have to stretch myself thin.

Haru Urara: (grinning, poking her chopsticks at Yasuaki’s arm) Eh? You mean you don’t have to stress over Rice-chan because you already stress over me, right?

Yasuaki: (deadpan glance) …Something like that.

Rice Shower: (watching quietly, her voice low but steady) You don’t need to worry about me for now. My form’s been holding, and I’ve worked with pace drills for this distance. Eighteen hundred is where I feel most… myself.

Yasuaki: (nodding once, a faint exhale leaving him) Good. That settles it. If you can handle your race window, then I can focus entirely on Urara’s prep for the Tosa Dawn Cup.

Haru Urara: (brightly, mouth full of rice) That’s my race! My race!!

Yasuaki: (sighing, rubbing his temple) …Don’t yell with food in your mouth.

His tray now empty, Yasuaki stood, brushing off his jacket with his usual unhurried calm. Urara blinked up at him mid-bite, cheeks puffed with food like a chipmunk.

Haru Urara: (swallowing quickly) Eh? Sensei, where are you going? Don’t tell me you’re sneaking off for a nap again!

Yasuaki: (flatly, adjusting his sleeves) Tempting, but no. I’m heading to the administration wing. Someone has to register the new club.

Rice Shower: (soft smile, tilting her head) So you really meant it? About making the club official?

Yasuaki: (nodding once, matter-of-fact) Of course. Efficiency only works if it’s structured. And if I don’t put the paperwork through, Yayoi will chew me out again for being “all talk.” (mutters) I’d rather avoid another lecture.

Haru Urara: (bouncing excitedly in her seat) Yay~! We’re gonna have a real club! With a real name! And maybe… maybe even a clubroom with snacks!

Yasuaki: (giving her a flat look) It won’t be a snack bar. It’s for training.

Haru Urara: (pouting, puffing cheeks) Hmph, buzzkill…So what do we do now, sensei?!

Yasuaki: (glancing over his shoulder, voice even) Simple. Finish eating. Head to your next class. The subject schedule says I’m not needed this period. I’ll see you both on the field at three sharp. Don’t be late.

Rice Shower: (nodding politely) Understood.

Haru Urara: (grinning, giving a thumbs up) Got it, sensei! We’ll be ready!

──────────

( At the corridor on the way to yayoi office) 

The quiet rhythm of the corridor was broken when Yasuaki slowed his steps. Ahead, standing with a clipboard tucked neatly against her arm, was a familiar face he hadn’t expected to cross paths with today.

???:  (pleasantly surprised) Yasuaki-kun? It’s been a while.

Yasuaki blinked, adjusting his pace as his brow rose faintly.

Yasuaki: (flat, but respectful) Kiryuin-senpai. Didn’t think I’d run into you here.

Aoi Kiryuin. Her black hair framed her features neatly, her posture straight but not stiff, and her calm smile gave off the air of someone who carried both pride and sincerity in equal measure.

Aoi Kiryuin: (smiling warmly, tilting her head) I should be saying that. You graduated earlier than anyone else in our class, yet here you are—back at Tracen, like me. I heard you’ve even taken on a trainee.

Yasuaki: (sighing lightly, muttering) Word travels fast…

Aoi chuckled softly, her eyes narrowing in good humor before her tone grew more curious.

Aoi Kiryuin: Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d come back at all. Tracen Academy belongs to your family, doesn’t it? With your mother before, and now your little sister as director. It makes sense… though I admit, I didn’t expect to find you involved so directly.

Yasuaki paused mid-step, caught off guard. He blinked once, then rubbed at the back of his neck as though embarrassed.

Yasuaki: (muttering, a little awkward) …To be honest, I didn’t even realize how many of my classmates had applied here after graduation. I never paid much attention to trainer rosters.

Aoi Kiryuin: (giggling lightly) That sounds like you. Always buried in theory, never looking up at the people around you.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, glancing away)Senpai, you make it sound worse than it is.

Aoi Kiryuin: (gentle but firm) I only meant that you’ve always been sharp with analysis, but aloof when it comes to others. (pauses, tilting her head) And… where are you walking to, exactly?

Yasuaki: (matter-of-fact) I was intending to go register my own club.

Aoi blinked, her steps halting for just a second. She hadn’t expected that answer at all. Her lips parted slightly before curving into a small, amused smile.

Aoi Kiryuin: …A club? You? (she chuckled softly, shaking her head in disbelief) Of all the things I thought you’d do back at Tracen, founding a club was never on the list. You used to brush off teamwork like it was a waste of time.

Yasuaki: (flatly) I still think teamwork is messy. But efficiency? That’s worth my time. A club means pooling resources, pushing my trainees against each other, and less wasted energy.

Aoi studied him carefully, noting how steady his tone was. There was no hesitation , he meant it. For the first time, she saw not the sleepy prodigy who had coasted through classes, but someone quietly setting a foundation.

Aoi Kiryuin: (smiling faintly, more earnest now) Then you must be serious. If you’re registering a club, you’ll be stepping right onto the battlefield. You do realize your competitors won’t just be casual groups Team Rigil itself is already looming there.

Yasuaki: (brushing it off with a faint shrug) Rigil is old school, senpai. They’ve got pedigree, but pedigree alone won’t carry them forever. There might be another club I’ve set my eyes on… one that could eventually crush them. And my team will surpass even that.

Aoi arched a brow, her curiosity piqued. She shifted her weight.

Aoi Kiryuin: (lightly) Oh? And what club has caught your interest so much?

Yasuaki: (flat, almost casual) Team Spica.

Chapter 4 end 

To be continue...

Chapter Text

( at the cooridoor) 

Aoi’s laughter lingered in the hall as Yasuaki gave her a short nod and walked off, his hands tucked into his pockets. He didn’t look back, though he could feel her eyes following him, still amused at his bold declaration. Spica,  He could almost hear her voice saying, 

Aoi: you don’t aim small, do you, Yasuaki-kun?

He reached the administrative office soon after. Papers shuffled, the smell of ink and tea filled the air. Behind the desk sat his sister, Yayoi, reading over a stack of documents with the precision of a hawk. Tazuna stood nearby, juggling folders with her usual nervous energy.

Yasuaki: (sliding the registration slip onto the desk) …I want to file a new club.

Yayoi didn’t look up immediately. She finished her signature on one sheet, stacked it neatly, then raised her eyes, fixing her brother with a slow, skeptical stare

Yayoi: (flatly) …You? Filing a club? I should mark today on the calendar. The couch must be heartbroken.

Yasuaki: (sighing, rubbing his temple) You’re never going to let that go, are you?

Tazuna: (tilting her head, curious while looking at the paper that he filled ) Lumina…? That’s a nice name, yasuaki- san. What’s the focus?

Yasuaki: (matter-of-factly) Efficiency. Growth. A team that pushes each other beyond their limits instead of coasting.

(Yayoi leaned back in her chair, fingers steepled, expression unreadable.)

Yayoi: (dryly) And here I thought you’d continue freeloading off my office couch until retirement. What changed your mind?

Yasuaki: (shrugging, gaze steady) Urara. And Rice Shower. They need more than one-on-one training. A group will keep them motivated.

A faint pause followed, his words heavier than expected. Yayoi’s sharp eyes softened just a touch, though her lips twitched into the faintest smirk.

Yayoi: (mocking lightly) Hm. Almost sounds like you’re… working. I should call the newspapers.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Hilarious. Now stamp the papers, Director.

Yayoi finally reached for the form, scanning over it carefully. Then she tapped the end of her pen against the page, her voice calm but pointed.

Yayoi: You remember the rule, right? Minimum members. A club isn’t official without at least five members excluding the trainer, of course.

Yasuaki leaned back into the chair across from her desk, his posture the definition of slouching defiance. He reached out casually and flicked her forehead with a snap of his finger, earning a sharp glare.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Don’t look so smug, Director. If memory serves right, there’s a grace period before you shut down half-baked clubs. Four months, wasn’t it? That’s plenty of time to scout proper trainees.

Yayoi: (rubbing her forehead, narrowing her eyes) Onii-chan… you just flicked the Director of Tracen Academy.

Yasuaki: (flatly) I flicked my little sister who thinks she’s scary behind a desk. Big difference.

Yayoi: (huffing, crossing her arms) I am scary behind this desk. And don’t act like you’ve planned everything out—knowing you, you’ll spend three of those months napping and scramble in the last week.

Yasuaki: (tilting his head, expression unreadable) …Or maybe I’ll find the right two in half that time. Quality beats quantity, imouto.

Yayoi: (snorting) Don’t call me that, You know I hate it when you—

Tazuna: (stepping in quickly, waving her hands nervously) A-ah! Ehem! Um… yasuaki-san isn’t wrong, Yayoi-chan The grace period is four months. As long as he submits a progress report, the club won’t be dissolved until then.

Yayoi: (glancing at Tazuna, sighing) …You’re too kind, Tazuna. If you keep enabling him, he’ll never grow up.

Yasuaki: (opening one eye, smirking faintly) Excuse me—remind me again who’s five years younger?

Yayoi: (snapping her gaze at him, annoyed) Age doesn’t automatically mean maturity, Onii-chan. You’re living proof of that.

Yasuaki: (leaning back in the chair, folding his arms) And you’re living proof that titles make people bossy.

Yayoi: (flatly) Director isn’t a title I made up. It’s a position. Earned.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Mm. And I’m still the older brother. So technically, by seniority, I win.

Yayoi: (exasperated, pinching her brow) This isn’t a game of shogi, you know.

Tazuna: (sweating nervously) …E-everything always sounds like a game when you two talk.

Yayoi: (deadpan, still pinching her brow) That’s because to him, everything is a game. He treats responsibility like a shogi board and naps halfway through the match.

Yasuaki: (stretching lazily, ignoring the jab) Anyway… (stands) I’m going to start meeting up with those two first.

Yayoi: (raising an eyebrow) “Those two”?

Yasuaki: (glancing toward the door, calm) Urara and Rice. They’re already within reach. That’s half the requirement done.

Yayoi: (sighing, arms crossed) Half is still not a whole, Onii-chan. You need five members.

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) Which is why I’ll leave the other three to my future self. He’ll be much more motivated than I am now.

Yayoi: (vein popping) …That’s not how time works.

Tazuna: (laughing nervously, stepping between them) W-well, it is a start, Yayoi-chan. With Haru Urara and Rice Shower, at least the foundation is set.

Yasuaki: (shrugging, already heading for the door) Exactly. Foundations matter more than roofs. The rest will come.

Yayoi: (calling after him, half-threatening) If your “future self” doesn’t deliver, I’ll make sure your present self suffers for it.

Yasuaki: (raising a hand lazily without turning back) Yeah, yeah. Director’s authority, little sister’s temper. Heard it all before.

Tazuna: (muttering under her breath, smiling nervously) …It’s like watching a cat and dog who somehow share the same leash.

Yasuaki: (peeking back through the doorframe, voice flat but sly) By the way… since we’re on the subject of forming a club, you two ever considered putting your names down?

Yayoi: (snapping her gaze up, eyes narrowing) Don’t even joke about that, Onii-chan.

Yasuaki: (tilting his head, smirk tugging at his lips) What? I mean, come on. Minimum member count? Problem solved. You’re both already qualified. Director Yayoi , Tracen’s very own “hidden ace.” And Tazuna, the so-called “eternal assistant.”

Tazuna: (laughing softly, shaking her head) …You make it sound like I’m some urban legend, Yasuaki-san.

Yasuaki: (actually letting out a short laugh, rare and dry) An urban legend, huh…? Not bad. Could even stick as your title someday. “The Assistant Who Was Actually a Horse Girl All Along.” Sounds like a campfire story.

Yayoi: (snapping, glaring at him from behind her desk) oni-chan...

Yasuaki: (raising both hands innocently as he eases toward the hallway) Relax, relax. Joke. Just a joke. No one else knows, and I’m not stupid enough to spill it.

Yayoi: (huffing, lowering her pen but still frowning) You’d better not.

Yasuaki: (half under his breath, smirking faintly) …Scary little sister mode. Noted.

Yayoi: (snapping, voice sharp) I heard that!

Tazuna: (giggling softly, adjusting her glasses) You really should stop poking the bear, Yasuaki-san.

Yasuaki: (already turning, waving lazily over his shoulder) I’ll take it under consideration. But right now—Rice and Haru are waiting for me at the track. If I don’t show up soon, Urara will probably end up racing the pigeons again.

Yayoi: (sighing, muttering as she returns to her paperwork) Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

Tazuna: (smiling warmly, almost fondly)…And yet somehow reliable.

──────────

( At the race  track) 

The afternoon sun beat down steadily, painting the field in a warm glow. The air buzzed with the sounds of other trainees, but Yasuaki’s focus was strictly on the two girls in front of him.

Urara Haru stood on the dirt track, panting already, her hands gripping the thick rope tied around a massive training tire that sat stubbornly behind her. She planted her feet, tugged forward with all her might, and—

Haru Urara: (straining, squeaking) Nghhh…! I-it moved… right? Did it move?

The tire hadn’t budged more than an inch. Yasuaki pinched the bridge of his nose but didn’t intervene.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) At this rate, we’ll need a calendar, Keep pulling. Your legs need to learn the strain.

Urara puffed out her cheeks, but with a determined squeak, she leaned forward again, muscles trembling as she inched the tire another few centimeters.

Meanwhile, Rice Shower stood quietly at the starting line, her bangs swaying in the breeze. She gave a small nod toward Yasuaki, ready.

Yasuaki: (raising his stopwatch) Eighteen hundred meters. Run it like you mean it. Go.

Rice launched forward, her stride long and sharp, her movements efficient yet fluid. Dust kicked up in her wake as she devoured the track. Even from the sidelines, Yasuaki could see the way her form tightened at the turns, her arms snapping in rhythm with her legs. He narrowed his eyes, watching every shift of her shoulders, every breath.

By the time Rice crossed the finish line, the stopwatch beeped. Yasuaki glanced down.

Yasuaki: …One minute, nine seconds. Not bad. Faster than I expected for a mid-distance stretch.

Rice pressed her hand lightly against her chest, breathing steadily though sweat traced her temple. She looked up, waiting for his judgment.

Yasuaki: (calm, analytical) Your speed’s sharp. But you tighten up too early. You’re burning energy fighting yourself instead of the course. Focus on relaxing your shoulders in the first half—save the stiffness for the sprint. You fix that, you shave seconds.

Rice nodded, quiet but intent, her violet eyes flicking with determination.

Behind them, a faint squeal echoed.

Haru Urara: (still tugging the tire, gasping dramatically) S-sensei…! My soul… is leaving my body…!

Yasuaki: (straightening, voice sharper and louder than usual) Come on, Urara! You’re halfway there—don’t you dare stop now! Your next race is going to be tougher than this, so show me you can move it!

Urara blinked through the sweat clinging to her lashes, ears twitching at the sudden energy in his voice.

Haru Urara: (panting, eyes wide) S-sensei… you’re actually cheering?!

Yasuaki: (pointing at the tire, tone firm) Don’t waste your breath on me. Use it on the rope. Lean forward, drive your legs—every step counts!

Urara’s lips curled into a grin, shaky but real. She pushed her heels into the dirt, teeth clenched, and gave another mighty pull. The tire groaned against the track, inching forward.

Yasuaki: (louder) That’s it! Keep that pace! One more pull, then another. You stop when I say stop, not when your legs complain!

Rice, who had been watching quietly, found herself swept up in the moment.

Rice Shower: (calling out, surprisingly bold) You can do it, Urara! Don’t let it beat you!

Urara let out a squeaky yell, practically throwing her whole body into the rope. The tire screeched another meter forward. Sweat dripped from her chin, but her smile only grew brighter.

Haru Urara: (shouting, determined) Ura-ra-ra-raaa—!!

With one last burst, the tire scraped across the finish mark Yasuaki had drawn in the dirt. She immediately collapsed forward, arms and legs splayed like a starfish.

Haru Urara: (wheezing, grinning) …Sensei… did you see…? I crushed it…!

Yasuaki: (crouching down, handing her a water bottle) Yeah, I saw. Now drink before you collapse into dust.

Urara snatched the bottle with both hands, guzzling noisily. Half the water ended up dripping down her chin, but her grin never faltered.

Yasuaki: (standing, turning his head toward Rice) Rice, stretch out your calves and hips. You’ll be running with her in a minute.

Rice Shower: (blinking, pointing at herself) W-with Urara?

Yasuaki: (nodding firmly) Exactly. I want to see if she can pace herself with you. It’ll push her stamina and sharpen her rhythm. Don’t hold back too much.

Urara perked up immediately, bouncing to her feet despite her rubbery legs.

Haru Urara: (brightly, clutching Rice’s hand) Yay~! Running with Rice-chan! We’ll be like a team!

Rice Shower: (flustered, her cheeks faintly pink) U-Urara… we’re not in a relay…

Haru Urara: (grinning) Doesn’t matter! Running together makes it fun!

Rice’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile as she shook her head.

Yasuaki: (sighing, arms folded) Fun’s fine, but remember the goal, consistency. Urara, no sudden bursts, no zig-zagging, no squeaking when your legs get tired. Stay with Rice’s rhythm.

Haru Urara: (saluting playfully) Aye aye, sensei!

The two girls lined up side by side, Rice stretching her legs in calm, deliberate motions while Urara bounced on the spot like a restless child.

Rice Shower: (quietly, to Urara) Just follow my steps, okay? I’ll keep it steady.

Haru Urara: (nodding eagerly) Got it! If I fall behind, you have to grab my hand and drag me!

Rice Shower: (blinking, then laughing softly) …You’re impossible.

Yasuaki blew a sharp whistle, his sharp gaze following their every move.

Yasuaki: Two laps. Let’s see what you’ve got. Go.

Urara and Rice took off together. At first, Urara’s energy made her surge ahead, but with a quick glance from Rice and a calm gesture of her hand, she reeled herself back. Step by step, her stride fell into sync with Rice’s smoother pace.

Watching from the sideline, Yasuaki allowed himself the faintest smirk.

Yasuaki: (muttering) Not bad. If she can keep this up, she might just surprise me again.

──────────

The weeks blurred together in a rhythm of training—Urara tugging tires and squeaking through sprints, Rice steadily honing her pacing with calm, deliberate effort. Three weeks later, the day of the Kisaragi Shō had finally arrived.

Rice Shower stood just behind the turf entrance, her hands clasped tightly against her chest. Her violet eyes darted from the roaring stands to the other Uma Musume warming up, their confidence a stark contrast to the storm of nerves twisting in her stomach.

Rice Shower: (softly, almost to herself) …Can I really do this…?

Yasuaki: (calmly) Nerves are normal. It means you care. Don’t fight them—use them. When the gate opens, it’s not about fear. It’s about everything you’ve trained for.

Rice blinked up at him, surprised. His words weren’t flowery encouragement, but steady, grounded. Something she could hold onto.

Rice Shower: (whispering) Yasuaki-sensei…

From the side, Urara popped up, bouncing on her heels with her usual boundless energy, waving both arms.

Haru Urara: (grinning ear to ear)Rice-chan! You’ve totally got this! Just run like we did in practice! Pretend it’s me next to you, squeaking and yelling “don’t leave me behind!”

Rice couldn’t help but laugh, a small, nervous giggle breaking through her stiff expression.

Rice Shower: (smiling faintly) …That would be distracting.

Haru Urara: (puffing cheeks playfully) Hey! Distraction is my special move!

Yasuaki let out a quiet sigh, though his lips tugged upward ever so slightly.

Yasuaki: (glancing at Rice) You’ll be fine. Remember, your strength isn’t in speed alone. It’s in how you endure, how you press forward when others fade. Trust yourself.

Rice inhaled slowly, then gave a small, firm nod.

Rice Shower: (steady, soft but determined) …Thank you. I’ll… I’ll do my best.

A call echoed from the officials at the gate—her group was up. Rice tightened her grip on her number tag, then glanced back once more.

Rice Shower: (to Yasuaki and Urara) Will you… will you watch?

Haru Urara: (throwing both fists in the air) Of course we will! I’ll be screaming my lungs out for you!

Yasuaki: (nodding, hands in his pockets) We’ll be in the stands. Go show them what you’ve built these last weeks.

Rice exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. With one last shy smile, she turned and jogged toward the gate, her ponytail swaying with each step.

Urara clasped her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement as she tugged on Yasuaki’s sleeve.

Haru Urara: (beaming) Sensei! Let’s hurry! I want to get the best seat!

Yasuaki allowed himself to be pulled along, his gaze still lingering on Rice’s back as she took her place on the turf.

The sharp crack of the starting gun echoed across the turf. Gates flung open, and a blur of hooves thundered forward. Rice burst from her stall with a clean break, her form low and steady.

Announcer: (voice rising) And they’re off! A clean start across the field—Rice Shower breaking smoothly, settling into fourth place early on!

The crowd roared, surprised murmurs rippling through the stands as the dark-haired filly slipped neatly into position.

Up in the spectator seats, Urara was already leaning so far over the railing it looked like she might fall.

Haru Urara: (yelling, hands cupped) Riiiice! You’re amazing—keep it up! Stay there!

Beside her, Yasuaki watched silently, eyes narrowed, analyzing. His arms folded, his body still, but his gaze never wavered.

Yasuaki: (muttering to himself) Good. Pacing’s sharp. She’s conserving… keeping her stride efficient.

The first two corners came and went, Rice hugging the inside rail. For a moment it looked perfect—her breathing even, her legs eating up the turf. But as they surged into the backstretch, a chestnut-haired runner edged closer, pressuring her from behind.

Announcer: And here comes Maple Crescent pushing forward, she’s challenging Rice Shower for that fourth spot!

The rival drew even, shoulder to shoulder, and with a quick burst, slid past. Rice faltered for half a stride, her position dropping to fifth.

Urara gasped, gripping the railing tight enough to make her knuckles white.

Haru Urara: (shouting, panicked) No! Don’t let her take it! You can do it, Rice-chan!

Yasuaki’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing further as he tracked the movement. His tone was low, almost to himself.

Yasuaki: (murmuring) If you’re going to do it… it has to be now. Final corner—600 left. Don’t just hold, Rice. Prove it.

The pack thundered into the last turn. The sound of hooves against turf was deafening, dirt spraying high into the air. Rice’s breath came ragged, her bangs sticking against her damp forehead. Fifth place. Close enough to see the leaders.

She lowered her body, digging her hooves deeper into the turf. A spray of dirt erupted as she tore into the ground with everything she had. Her stride lengthened, sharper, faster, each push ripping into the track like she was clawing her way out of the shadows.

Announcer: (voice breaking with surprise) Rice Shower is—she’s flying forward! From the outside—she’s overtaking Maple Crescent! She’s not stopping!

Urara’s voice joined the rest of the stadium, shrill with excitement.

Haru Urara: (screaming at the top of her lungs) RICE-CHAAAAAN!!!

Yasuaki’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, though his eyes stayed razor-focused.

Yasuaki: (quietly) …Good. Don’t look back. Keep pressing.

The filly in fourth tried to respond, but Rice surged past without even glancing, her acceleration brutal. The crowd gasped as she didn’t slow—her momentum carried her past the third runner, then into second, each stride shattering expectations.

Announcer: Incredible—Rice Shower from the backfield, slicing through the pack—now in second! Can she keep this pace?!

The leader, a sleek bay with ribbons trailing, glanced back with wide eyes. Too late. Rice was already there, her violet gaze unshaken, her hooves tearing into the last 300 meters like it was life or death.

Announcer: (shouting) She’s doing it! Rice Shower has taken the lead—this is unbelievable! From fifth to first in the final stretch!!

The crowd exploded, cheers deafening. Flags waved, voices rose, and even those who had doubted her were on their feet.

Urara was jumping so hard she nearly fell over the railing, tears brimming in her eyes as she kept screaming.

Haru Urara: (weeping but smiling) She did it—she’s really doing it, Sensei!!

Yasuaki exhaled slowly through his nose, finally allowing himself a small, proud smirk.

Yasuaki: (to himself) …That’s more like it. That’s the fire I saw in her eyes.

Announcer: (ecstatic) And the winner—Rice Shower!! With a breathtaking finish from behind, she claims victory at the Kisaragi Sho!

The stadium erupted in thunderous applause and cheers. Rice staggered at the end, chest heaving, but her face glowed with relief and triumph. Somewhere in the stands, Yasuaki finally let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, while Urara waved both arms like a child with sparklers.

──────────

[Later that afternoon- outside of the race track]

Urara practically dragged the group inside, her stomach growling loud enough to make Rice blush with secondhand embarrassment.

Haru Urara: (clutching her stomach dramatically) Sensei, if we don’t eat right now, I’ll collapse! My legs are already noodles from cheering too much!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, crossing his arms) You didn’t run today. Rice did.

Haru Urara: (pouting, hands on her hips) Cheering is exercise too! My throat is sore!

Rice Shower: (softly, hiding a smile) Urara-chan… I think you just want a burger.

Haru Urara: (beaming instantly) Exactly!! And fries! And maybe a sundae if Sensei is generous!

Yasuaki strode up to the counter, the familiar clatter of trays and sizzling of the grill filling the air around him. He scanned the menu above, the fluorescent lights casting a soft glow on the colorful pictures of burgers, fries, and drinks.

The cashier typed the order quickly, calling out the items to the kitchen while Yasuaki waited patiently, tapping his fingers lightly against the counter.

Yasuaki returned to the table with the tray balanced on one hand, sliding it down onto the booth between them. The aroma of fries and fresh buns made Urara’s ears twitch like a puppy’s.

Yasuaki: (calmly) One burger each, fries in the middle, and—

Haru Urara: (snatching a wrapped burger mid-sentence) Thanks, Sensei! You’re the best!

Before Yasuaki could even sit, Urara had already torn open the wrapper and taken a massive bite.

Haru Urara: (chewing happily) Mmm—so good—so juicy—so—

Her expression froze. Her ears shot straight up, then down. Her eyes widened in absolute horror. Slowly, dramatically, she pulled the bun back to reveal a mountain of bright green pickle slices stacked inside.

Haru Urara: (muffled through half a bite, face scrunching) Pffffft—!! Pickles?!

She slapped both hands over her mouth, cheeks puffed like she was about to explode. Her legs kicked under the table as she made muffled noises.

Rice Shower: (startled, covering her mouth, giggling) Urara-chan… are you okay?

Haru Urara: (desperate, waving frantically) M-m’not okay—! Sensei tricked me—!

Yasuaki: (sitting down calmly, unwrapping his actual plain burger) I didn’t trick you. You grabbed the first one without looking. That’s mine. Extra pickles.

Haru Urara: (dramatic, flailing) Extra pickles?! Who even orders extra pickles?! That’s like eating crunchy green evil!

She shoved the burger back on the tray, sticking out her tongue as though she’d been poisoned.

Rice Shower: (giggling, softly teasing) …Evil? They’re just vegetables, Urara-chan.

Haru Urara: (slamming her fist lightly on the table) No! Not vegetables—villains! Betrayers in disguise! They lurk in burgers waiting to ruin my happiness!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, biting into his burger with obvious relish) …They’re the best part. Balance. Crunch. Sourness to cut the fat.

Haru Urara: (pointing accusingly at him, still pouting) You and your “balance!” First training, now food! Next thing you’ll say is “pickles are good for stamina.”

Yasuaki: (swallowing calmly) …They are.

Urara’s forehead smushed against the cool surface of the table, her ponytail drooping like a wilted flower. Her voice came out muffled and pitiful.

Haru Urara: (muffled) This is betrayal of the highest order… Sensei knew my weakness and exploited it…

Yasuaki: (unimpressed) You exploited yourself by snatching the first thing you saw.

Without a word, he slid his untouched, neatly wrapped burger across the tray toward her. The wrapper crinkled right under her cheek, and Urara’s ears twitched like a cat catching the sound of food.

Yasuaki: (flat, but just a hint softer) That’s yours. No pickles. Eat before you start crying.

Urara slowly lifted her head, her face still scrunched in dramatic suffering. She looked down at the burger like it was a divine gift sent from heaven itself.

Haru Urara: (whispering with awe) …My burger… my pure, pickle-free salvation…

She tore open the wrapper in one swift motion and took a huge bite. Her entire mood flipped in a heartbeat—the sparkle came back to her eyes, her tail swished behind her, and she pumped one fist triumphantly into the air.

Haru Urara: (mouth full, beaming) Sensei! You do care about me!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, biting his own burger ) I’d just rather not hear you whining for the next hour.

Haru Urara: (chewing noisily while ignoring yasuaki statement .) Anyways! Since Rice got first place in the Kisaragi Shō, we should be celebrating! Like  cake! Or… more fries!

Rice Shower: (softly, waving her hands) U-Urara-chan… this is celebrating. You begged Sensei to bring us here, remember?

Haru Urara: (mouth still full, muffled) That’s different! Burgers are everyday fuel. Victories deserve grand feasts!

Yasuaki took a slow sip from his drink, his sharp eyes half-lidded as he stared at Urara’s bouncing energy. He exhaled through his nose as he set his cup down.

Yasuaki: (flatly) If we’re throwing a party every time, you’ll go broke before you win your own race. Besides, your Tosa Dawn Cup is in two weeks. Celebrate too much now, and you’ll be crawling at the starting gate.

Urara froze mid-bite, her ears flicking. She swallowed hard, lowering her burger dramatically like he’d just told her Santa wasn’t real.

Haru Urara: (pouting) Eh… Sensei, you always kill the mood. Just once, can’t you let me have the dream of cake and sparkles?

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, blunt) Dreams won’t help you keep your placement. At your pace, you won’t move up… or even maintain fourth.

That struck a chord. Urara blinked, her grin faltering for a second before determination sparked in her eyes. She slammed her fists onto the table, startling Rice enough to make her fries jump.

Haru Urara: (grinning fiercely) Then I’ll just prove you wrong! I’ll eat more katsuo, train harder, and run so fast even you’ll be surprised, Sensei!

Rice Shower: (smiling gently)Urara-chan’s right. Even if it’s tough, she won’t give up. That’s what makes her amazing.

Yasuaki: (studying Rice quietly for a moment, then looking back at Urara) …That enthusiasm is half the battle. But enthusiasm without focus is just noise. Two weeks. No wasted time, no excuses. You want to celebrate? Earn it with a better result.

Urara puffed her chest out proudly, her tail wagging like a happy pup.

Haru Urara: (grinning) Fine, fine! But when I do, Sensei , you’re buying me that cake!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, sipping his drink) …You and your cake, Haru. If sugar fueled races, you’d be undefeated by now.

Haru Urara: (beaming, wagging her tail) See? You get it! Cake is power!

Rice Shower: (giggling softly) …I think Sensei meant the opposite, Urara-chan.

Urara waved her hand dismissively and went right back to stuffing her mouth with fries. Yasuaki just shook his head faintly, but his gaze stayed thoughtful.

──────────

[Time skip – two weeks of training later]

The following week was grueling. Urara dragged tires, sprinted intervals, and even tried pacing side-by-side with Rice, though more often than not, she tripped over her own excitement. Still, Yasuaki never once lowered his standards. He adjusted drills, pushed her limits, and—though he’d never admit it out loud—watched her slowly chip away at her own weaknesses.

Urara complained, whined, and flopped on the ground dramatically more times than she could count. But every time, she got back up.

Yasuaki: (standing over her with stopwatch in hand) Again.

Haru Urara: (groaning, dragging herself up) S-sensei… are you sure this isn’t torture training?

Yasuaki: (flat) If it were, you wouldn’t still be standing. Move.

Rice Shower: (soft encouragement from the sidelines) You can do it, Urara-chan. Just one more lap.

Urara’s ears twitched at Rice’s voice, and with a wide, exhausted grin, she charged forward again.

[The Day of the Tosa Dawn Cup]

Two weeks passed in a blink, and the day of the Tosa Dawn Cup arrived. The air buzzed with chatter as the crowd gathered, some curious, some skeptical. Urara bounced nervously on her toes near the gate, ears twitching as she spotted Yasuaki and Rice in the stands.

She raised a peace sign toward them, grinning wide despite the pressure. Rice waved back warmly.

Announcer: (calling out over the mic) Twelve runners lined up today for the Tosa Dawn Cup! All eyes on the field!

The gates clanged open. Urara stumbled a fraction late, but found her rhythm quickly, pushing her legs to keep from being swallowed at the back. She climbed slowly—eighth, then seventh—as the field thundered around the first corner. By the second, she was straining, teeth gritted, holding her ground in sixth.

Final stretch—her legs screamed, chest burning. The crowd cheered louder when another runner surged past, but Urara refused to fold. She pushed, ears flat, arms pumping until the line cut across her vision like a finish tape.

Announcer: Sixth place—Haru Urara!

Urara’s steps wobbled as she climbed up from the track toward the stands, her body clearly drained. Her shoulders sagged, her ears drooped, and her tail dragged low, but on her face still lingered that trademark bright smile, stubborn and unyielding. Every stumble made her look ready to fall, yet she kept waving at the crowd, as if determined not to let exhaustion bury her cheer.

By the time she reached Yasuaki and Rice, her knees nearly buckled. She slumped against the railing with a groan, but still managed to flash them a peace sign.

Haru Urara: (panting, voice light despite everything) Sixth place, Sensei…! See? I’m still smiling!

Yasuaki raised an eyebrow, arms crossed as he studied her, then let out a long sigh. He reached out and rested a hand gently on her head, patting it.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, though softer than usual) …You’re impossible. Stumbling like a zombie, but still grinning like you just won.

Rice Shower: (smiling warmly, supporting Urara’s arm) That’s what makes her special, though.

Urara’s ears twitched happily under Yasuaki’s hand, her smile brightening despite her tired frame.

Haru Urara: (teasing weakly) See? Even Rice-chan gets it! Sensei’s the only one who doesn’t appreciate my genius stamina.

Yasuaki: (glancing away, muttering) Genius isn’t the word I’d use.

Then, almost as if deciding something, he straightened up and turned toward the exit of the stands.

Yasuaki: …Come on. Let’s go.

Haru Urara: (blinking, surprised) Huh? Where?

Yasuaki: (looking back at her, flat but certain) You kept your promise. You ran hard, didn’t give up, and you smiled to the very end. That earns cake.

For a beat, Urara just stared at him, her jaw dropping. Then her ears shot straight up, her entire body trembling with sudden energy.

Haru Urara: (shouting, tail wagging wildly) CAKE?! Sensei, you mean it?!

Rice Shower: (giggling softly, covering her mouth) Urara-chan’s stamina really does recharge instantly when food is involved…

Urara clung to Yasuaki’s sleeve, tugging him toward the city like a child dragging a parent to a festival. Yasuaki, resigned, allowed himself to be pulled along, Rice following at a calmer pace.

Urara skipped along, humming happily, her ears bouncing with each step. She had her sights fixed on the cake shop ahead, its glass windows gleaming with rows of cream-filled delights.

Just as she pressed her face eagerly against the glass, a familiar, ringing laughter drifted from the path behind them.

???: O-hohohoho! My, what a lively sight this is.

Urara spun around, her pink hair bouncing.

Haru Urara: (grinning wide) King ! You’re here too?!

King Halo struck a graceful pose, her uniform pristine and her long brown hair flowing neatly with its ribbon. Her amber eyes softened ever so slightly as she looked at her roommate.

King Halo: Of course I’m here. A first-rate lady always shows up when it matters, and naturally, I came to watch your Tosa Dawn Cup.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) …All the way at the back then.

King Halo blinked, her poise faltering as a faint blush crept into her cheeks. She snapped her gaze away, a hand flicking at her hair as if dismissing his jab.

King Halo: (huffing) R-rude! I’ll have you know the family of Dancing Brave themselves arranged my seat! It was positioned for… prestige.

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, tone flat as stone) Prestige, huh. For the Tosa Dawn Cup? That’s not the Japan Cup, the Arima Kinen, or even the Satsuki Shō. It’s a regional 1500m — and you were still in the nosebleeds.

Haru Urara: (tilting her head innocently)Nosebleeds?

Yasuaki: Way in the back.

There was a beat of silence before Urara gasped, her eyes widening as she turned toward King Halo.

Haru Urara: (dramatic) Eh?! King Halo, were you really sitting all the way at the back?!

King Halo froze, cheeks reddening deeper, and threw her hands onto her hips with a sharp huff.

King Halo: (flustered, trying to recover dignity) A lady does not sit in the back — she oversees the whole field! It was strategic! I could observe every stride, every angle, every cheering fan. Besides… I didn’t want to sit too close and make you nervous.

Urara’s ears twitched, her expression softening into a big, grateful smile.

Haru Urara: (beaming) Aw, that’s so sweet~! You were looking out for me, weren’t you, King Halo?

King Halo froze again, blinking rapidly as if her carefully constructed wall had just been shattered. Then, with a sudden toss of her hair, she let out her trademark laugh.

King Halo: (flustered, covering her real feelings) O-hohohoho! W-well of course I was. Someone must make sure you don’t lose your sparkle, even if you tumble down the rankings!

Yasuaki: (dry, smirking faintly) …So in other words, you sat in the back.

King Halo: (stomping her foot, red-faced) You—! You insufferable man!

Haru Urara: (cheerfully cutting in, tugging King Halo’s sleeve) Hehe~! Don’t fight, don’t fight! Instead… why don’t you come with us? We’re going to a cake shop!

King Halo blinked, caught off guard by the sudden invitation.

King Halo: (arching a brow)Cake… shop?

Rice Shower: (nodding softly, smiling)Mm. We were heading there anyway. Celebrating a little.

Urara beamed, her tail wagging as she leaned closer.

Haru Urara: (excited) And they’ve got all kinds—strawberry shortcake, chocolate mousse, cream puffs—ooh, and maybe Mont Blanc too! Come with us, King~!

King Halo hesitated for a moment, her “first-class lady” composure visibly wavering as the word Mont Blanc echoed in her head. She coughed delicately, tossing her hair with exaggerated dignity.

King Halo: (trying to sound aloof)W-well… if it is to encourage your spirit after a difficult race, I suppose… accompanying you would be acceptable.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Translation: she likes sweets.

King Halo: (snapping at him, flustered)Q-quiet! A refined palate must occasionally indulge!

Haru Urara: (laughing, clasping her hands) Yay~! It’s settled! Rice-chan, King Halo, and Sensei—all together at the cake shop!

Rice giggled softly, nodding along.

Rice Shower: (smiling) That actually sounds… really nice.

Urara practically skipped ahead, tugging the group toward the shop as Yasuaki let out a long, quiet sigh—though even he couldn’t quite hide the faint smile tugging at his lips.

──────────

( At the cake store ) 

The group entered the cozy cake shop, the air sweet with vanilla and sugar. Glass cases glittered with colorful pastries—shortcakes crowned with strawberries, glossy fruit tarts, chocolate layers dusted with cocoa, and delicate cream rolls that seemed almost too perfect to eat.

Urara’s eyes sparkled like a child in a toy store.

Haru Urara: (pointing wildly) That one! And that one! And oooh—two of those! Ahh, look at that chocolate one—it’s calling me! Sensei, can I get five? No—six!

Yasuaki pinched the bridge of his nose, pulling out his wallet with a long, pained sigh.

Yasuaki: (dry) …At this rate, Yayoi’s going to throw me and my wallet out of the estate. A single cake shouldn’t cost more than a week’s groceries.

Rice, ever calm, leaned slightly toward him with a reassuring smile.

Rice Shower: (softly) It’s okay, yasuaki-sensei. Celebrations are meant to feel a little extravagant. Think of it as… motivation for her.

Yasuaki: (glancing at her, smirking faintly) …That’s a polite way of calling it damage control, Rice.

Meanwhile, King Halo stepped up to the counter with perfect poise, scanning the display like a critic examining fine art.

King Halo: (nodding approvingly) Hmm. Of course. This establishment does carry high-prestigious selections worthy of my refined taste. Mont Blanc, mille-feuille, and even opera cake. Acceptable.

Urara blinked, tilting her head.

Haru Urara: (confused) Pre… pree… prees… pree-stitious?

She stumbled over the word again, her cheeks puffing as she tried once more.

Haru Urara: (slowly, determined) Pre…stee…fish…ous?

King Halo’s eyes widened as she fought the urge to laugh, coughing into her hand.

King Halo: (smiling gently despite herself) …Prestigious, dear. Pres-ti-gious.

Urara tried again, tongue sticking out in concentration.

Haru Urara: (earnestly)Pree-stick-ious!

Yasuaki groaned, setting his wallet on the counter with a thump.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Close enough. If she keeps repeating it, I’ll be paying in my sleep.

Rice giggled softly, hiding her smile behind her hand.

Rice Shower: (teasing lightly) It’s kind of cute, though… hearing her try.

Haru Urara: (grinning proudly) Hehe~! See, Sensei? Even Rice-chan thinks I’m cute when I mess up!

Yasuaki: (flatly, handing bills to the clerk)…Cute doesn’t make the bill any smaller.

The cakes were finally served, delicate slices arranged on the tray like treasures. The frosting shimmered under the shop’s soft lights, and the rich scents of fruit, cream, and chocolate filled the air.

Urara’s eyes practically sparkled as she bounced in her seat, ponytail swishing like a happy pup’s tail.

Haru Urara: (grinning wide) Yesss! Finally! Time to dig in—!

She immediately scooped up a big bite of strawberry shortcake, humming blissfully as cream smeared faintly at the corner of her lips.

Meanwhile, King Halo lifted her fork with perfect grace, sitting upright as if she were dining at a royal banquet.

King Halo: (murmuring with poise) Mm. Yes… the cream is light, the sponge moist. A respectable cake worthy of… ah—

Her composure faltered for a moment as the sweet richness hit her tongue, and a faint flush of delight betrayed her “refined” mask. She quickly covered it with a dignified sip of tea, but Urara was already giggling.

Haru Urara: (teasing) King-chan, you looked sooo happy just now!

King Halo: (stiffening, cheeks pink)N-nonsense! I was merely appreciating the balance of flavors!

Rice, sitting quietly between the two, lifted a forkful of chocolate cake and took a delicate bite. Unlike the others, she didn’t say much—her small smile was enough to show her enjoyment.

Yasuaki, meanwhile, ate silently, savoring his own slice of Mont Blanc without comment. He thought, briefly, that at least they were all distracted enough not to order a second round.

But then, Rice’s soft voice broke the calm.

Rice Shower: (glancing at Yasuaki, cheeks faintly pink) Um… yasuaki sensei… would you… try a bite of mine? I think you’ll like it.

She held her fork toward him timidly, cake balanced carefully on the edge.

Yasuaki blinked, clearly unprepared, but leaned slightly forward, humoring her. Before he could take the bite, however—

Haru Urara: (pointing, flustered) Ehhh?! Rice-chan, that’s not fair! If you get to feed him, then I wanna feed Sensei too!

She scooped up a piece of her strawberry shortcake, holding it up with dramatic determination.

Haru Urara: (pouting, insistent) Open wide, Sensei! You can’t say no—it’s for fairness!

Yasuaki froze, glancing between the two forks pointed at him like weapons. One trembling gently in Rice’s hands, the other brandished proudly by Urara, who was grinning like she’d already won.

For a long beat, he just stared at them both,  Then, with a quiet sigh, he leaned forward and bit both forks at once, chewing with the patience of a saint.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, after swallowing) …There. Crisis averted. Are you satisfied now?

Urara burst out laughing so hard she nearly fell from her chair, while Rice covered her mouth, giggling softly through her blush. Even King Halo, watching the scene, couldn’t suppress a faint chuckle, shaking her head as she delicately set her fork down.

King Halo: (arching a brow, amused but sly) Honestly… how can a lazy trainer like you sit here, enjoying sweets as though nothing is wrong, when there’s another crisis you should be worrying about?

Yasuaki, halfway through sipping his tea, paused. 

Yasuaki: (flatly) …Crisis? What crisis? If it’s about Urara eating too much cake, I’ve already surrendered that battlefield.

Urara puffed her cheeks full of sponge cake, waving her fork like a tiny flag.

Haru Urara: (mouth full) Hey! Don’t make me the crisis!

King Halo leaned forward, folding her arms across the table with a regal air.

King Halo: (smugly) I’m talking about your club. Five members minimum. Even your cheerful little apprentice here mentioned you’ve created one. And yet—so far, I only count two names.

Her sharp green eyes flicked deliberately toward Urara and Rice. Both girls froze, blinking in unison.

Haru Urara: (startled, blinking rapidly)Ehhhhh?! There’s a member limit?! Nobody told me that!

Rice Shower: (eyes widening, softly) …I didn’t know either. I… I thought just joining was enough…

Yasuaki pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly through his teeth.

Yasuaki (dryly): …I didn’t want you two to worry about this because of your race. Yes , I know there’s a limit. Yes , I understand it. And I’ve been thinking about it from the very beginning.

Urara leaned over the table, eyes wide with mock betrayal.

Haru Urara: You mean… you kept a secret from your precious trainee? Sensei, how could you?!

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Because my ‘precious trainee’ panics if she forgets her lunchbox. Imagine how she’d react to deadlines.

Haru Urara: (pouting) That’s rude! I would only panic a little…

Rice, calmer but still worried, tugged lightly on Yasuaki’s sleeve.

Rice Shower: (quietly, hesitant) So… you’ve been pondering it all this time…? Then… what will happen to the club if we don’t get enough members?

King Halo smirked, tilting her chin with the confidence of a queen.

King Halo: (matter-of-fact) It’s common sense. The club will be dissolved. No matter how much potential its members have.

Urara gasped so dramatically she nearly dropped her fork.

Haru Urara: (frantic) Dissolved?! Like… soap bubbles in the bath?! Nooo—Rice-chan, we can’t let that happen!

Rice fidgeted, her hands tightening on her skirt.

Rice Shower: …I don’t want it to end either. Not when it’s just started.

Yasuaki, meanwhile, was unfazed. He leaned back, reached into his bag, and pulled out a neatly folded banner. Without a word, he flicked it open across the table. The bold letters read:

“JOIN CLUB LUMINA – SHINE WITH US!”

The edges were clean, the brush strokes precise. It looked professional enough to hang in the academy courtyard.

Yasuaki: (flatly, setting it down) I already prepared for this. The only problem is whether someone bothers to notice.

Urara and Rice blinked, then looked at each other in awe.

Haru Urara: (eyes sparkling) Sensei, you made a banner?! That’s amazing!!

Rice Shower: (smiling softly) …I didn’t think you’d put in that much effort already.

Yasuaki raised an eyebrow at them, unimpressed.

Yasuaki: It’s a banner, not a miracle. Don’t oversell it.

Across the table, King Halo’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. She placed her fork down elegantly, her green eyes gleaming with both pride and mischief.

King Halo: (with confidence) Or perhaps you don’t need to wait for strangers to notice, Akikawa Yasuaki. Sometimes the best candidates are right in front of you.

Urara tilted her head, ears flicking.

Haru Urara: (blinking) Right in front…? Oh! You mean the cake shop owner?!

King Halo rose slightly in her chair, hand on her hip, chin tilted in her trademark proud pose.

King Halo: (proudly, with her rich laugh)Hohoho~! I mean me, of course! If Haru Urara is to charge forward with such energy, then she’ll need someone at her side to temper that chaos. Someone disciplined, refined, a true first-class lady. Naturally, that role falls to me.

Urara gasped, her fork clattering to her plate.

Haru Urara: (wide-eyed, bouncing) King-chan, you’d really join?!

King Halo crossed her arms, though her expression softened as her gaze flicked toward Urara.

King Halo: (more earnest now) Don’t misunderstand. This is not mere whim. Watching you run—even if the result was less than stellar—reminded me of something. That raw joy, that stubborn determination… It’s reckless, but inspiring. I thought, perhaps, if I stood beside you, I might learn from it as well.

Her tone shifted lower, almost reflective.

King Halo: (quietly, to herself) …And maybe, just maybe, I could finally make my mother proud. To show her that I, too, can shine in my own way.

Yasuaki: (calm, smirking faintly) So this isn’t just about Urara. You’ve got your own motives.

King Halo’s cheeks flushed faintly, though she quickly masked it with a haughty toss of her hair.

King Halo: (snapping back into pride)Hohoho! Every lady has her reasons! You needn’t pry further.

Urara leaned across the table, grabbing King’s hands with shining eyes.

Haru Urara: (grinning) Then it’s decided! King-chan’s in the club! Rice-chan’s in too! That’s three already—no soap bubbles!

Rice giggled softly at Urara’s enthusiasm, while Yasuaki sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, though there’s relief in his tone) …So much for subtle recruitment.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, though relief tinged his tone) …So much for subtle recruitment. Fine. Since you’re here, let’s cut to the point. What’s your best turf, and what’s your next race?

King Halo straightened in her chair, brushing her hair back with a dignified air.

King Halo: (proudly) My specialty lies on the mile to middle distances—turf, of course. As for my schedule…(her voice lowered, a touch of tension slipping in despite her proud smile) …I was just defeated in the Takarazuka Kinen.

Urara’s ears perked as she tilted her head curiously.

Haru Urara: (blurting) Eh?! But King-chan, you’re so strong!

King Halo’s smile faltered for a heartbeat, but she quickly masked it with a light laugh, her “hohoho” a little forced this time.

King Halo: Strength alone isn’t always enough. My rival that day was none other than Special Week—and she ran with such brilliance, I had no choice but to yield. But defeat is no end. My next target… (her eyes gleamed with determination) …is the Takamatsunomiya Kinen. A true test of speed.

At that name, Yasuaki’s gaze sharpened. He leaned back in his chair, recalling clearly the day in the Spica clubroom. Special Week—bright-eyed, awkward yet brimming with natural energy—introducing herself as the new transfer student. The same Special Week who had tugged at Suzuka’s sleeve, laughing with genuine innocence.

Yasuaki: (thinking to himself) So that’s the one who toppled her. The transfer student, Special Week… already strong enough to make King Halo stumble. Spica’s got themselves a dangerous jewel.

He drummed his fingers once against the table, then finally looked up to meet King Halo’s eyes. Her proud chin was raised, her aura practically demanding acknowledgment. Urara’s tail wagged like a puppy, while Rice watched them both with calm, steady interest.

For a long moment, Yasuaki let the silence stretch. Then he exhaled through his nose, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, but conceding) …Well, I can’t complain. I needed more members, and you’re not exactly dead weight. Call it a win–win.

King Halo gave a dignified “hohoho,” clearly satisfied, while Urara practically bounced in her seat at the thought of their club growing stronger. Rice smiled softly, almost relieved.

Yasuaki leaned back, folding his arms with a thoughtful hum. Three members now. Still a long way from five…

Chapter 5 end 

To be continue...

Chapter Text

The steady clip of Yasuaki's shoes echoed down the academy's polished halls. His hands were shoved in his pockets, posture slouched just enough to betray the weight on his shoulders. The culprit behind his escape?

His little sister, Yayoi, who had been firing off lectures at him since morning. Even as the older brother, he knew better than to underestimate that sharp tongue when she was annoyed. Her glare alone could burn holes through stone. Best to retreat before the "Director Mode" got any worse.

But instead of the couch in her office, he found himself standing before a door he hadn't approached in some time: the office of Symboli Rudolf. The golden plate on the door gleamed, the words "Student Council President" etched with authority.

The office was just as he remembered - dignified, immaculate. A faint smell of old paper and ink, the curtains drawn in such a way that sunlight streamed in perfectly across the desk. And there she was: Symboli Rudolf, seated with perfect posture, her hands calmly organizing documents into neat piles. She didn't look up immediately, but the moment she did, her eyes sharp, commanding, yet warm caught his in silence.

Symboli Rudolf: (calmly, her voice firm but not unkind)...Yasuaki-kun. You are not the trainer I expected this afternoon.

Yasuaki gave a short laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck as he dropped into a chair near the bookshelf like a man on the run.

Yasuaki: (grumbling)Let's just say my sister's patience expired. And when she's annoyed... I'd rather face the Emperor herself than her pen and clipboard.

Rudolf's lips curved ever so slightly, the faintest crack in her otherwise stoic expression. She set her pen down, folding her hands together with measured grace.

Symboli Rudolf: (thoughtfully, her tone warmer than before)You've really changed, Yasuaki-kun. I still remember the day your stepmother - the former director - introduced you to me. A boy barely tall enough to look me in the eye, with a spark in him that couldn't be contained. Back then, you had that bright, enthusiastic look... one who loved nothing more than uma racing.

Yasuaki blinked at the memory, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Slowly, he sank deeper into the couch, arms resting lazily along the backrest.

Yasuaki: (quietly, but certain) ...I still do. Love it, I mean. That hasn't changed. Not one bit.

He let his head tip back against the cushion, eyes drifting up to the ceiling as he continued, his voice calm, steady not his usual dry sarcasm, but something more genuine.

Yasuaki: It's the one thing that keeps me moving, even when I'd rather do nothing. Watching them run, analyzing every stride, finding out how to help them push further... it's exhausting, but it's the kind of exhaustion I can live with.

Rudolf's shoulders shook ever so slightly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips rare, but genuine. She leaned back in her chair, arms folding as she regarded him with the same poised dignity she always carried.

Rudolf: (chuckling softly) I heard from Teio that you two quarreled over her decision to join Spica.

Yasuaki: (grimacing, rubbing his temple) ...Figures she'd run straight to you with that.

Rudolf: (smiling warmly, leaning back in her chair) She didn't frame it as gossip, you know. More like a concern. She said you looked... hurt.

Yasuaki: (quietly, avoiding her gaze) ...I wasn't hurt. Just... surprised.

Rudolf: (arching an eyebrow) Surprised? You've known her since childhood, haven't you?

Yasuaki: (nodding slightly) Yeah. She was always trailing after me, always trying to keep up. I thought... maybe when I became a trainer, she'd ask me to guide her. (pauses, voice softening) But she didn't. She refused.

Rudolf: (gentle, tilting her head) And yet, Teio has always empathized with you, hasn't she? Even when she turned you down.

Yasuaki: (exhaling, leaning back deeper into the couch) ...Yeah. Teio's like that. She knew I was frustrated, burning myself out trying to prove I was good enough as a trainer. Instead of letting me vent, she just smiled, told me she believed I'd figure it out. (opens one eye at Rudolf) ...Why bring that up?

Rudolf: (calmly) Because Teio came to me. She sat in that very chair you're lying away from, voice wavering between guilt and defiance. She wanted to talk to you, but she feared it would only escalate. So instead, I calmed her.

Yasuaki: (muttering, turning on his side)...I get enough lectures from Yayoi as it is. Didn't expect one here too.

Rudolf: (rising from her seat, walking to stand over him) Yasuaki-kun. (soft, steady) This isn't scolding for the sake of it. You needed someone to remind you why you started. To remind you that love for racing doesn't vanish just because reality bites harder than you expected.

Yasuaki: (quiet for a beat, then sighs) ...You always know where to press, don't you?

Rudolf: (sitting gracefully on the chair opposite the couch) It's not pressing. It's guiding. Your mother entrusted you to me once, before Yayoi inherited the director's seat. She told me plainly, "This boy will need someone stern, but kind. Someone who understands the burden he carries."

Yasuaki: (eyes widening slightly, then softening) ...She said that?

Rudolf: (nodding, a faint smile tugging at her lips) She believed in you fiercely, but she also knew you'd try to shoulder too much, too fast. Just like now.

Yasuaki: (rests an arm across his forehead, voice low) ...You really do remind me of her, you know. The way you talk, the way you never let me run from myself.

Rudolf: (smiling gently, with a rare softness) Then perhaps I'm doing her will justice. If being a second mother in her absence helps you stand taller, I'll accept that role gladly.

Yasuaki: (exhaling, shifting on the couch) ...Yeah. I guess that's not so bad.

Rudolf: (folding her hands, watching him for a moment) I also hear that you've created a club.

Yasuaki: (half-opening one eye, tone casual) ...Word spreads fast in this place. Yeah, I set one up. So far, there are members. Don't ask me how many, you'll just sigh.

The office door opens with a clean click. Air Groove steps in, crisp uniform and sharp expression, holding a stack of documents. She stops upon seeing Yasuaki on the couch , entirely unbothered, as if it's normal.

Air Groove: (flatly) ...Of course you're here. I should have known.

Yasuaki: (sitting up slightly, smirking faintly) Afternoon to you too, Vice President. Not surprised?

Air Groove: (walking further in, placing the documents neatly on Rudolf's desk) Not in the slightest. Wherever there's unaccounted-for noise - or naps - your name tends to follow.

Rudolf: (amused, folding her hands) Be kind, Groove. He's been reflecting.

Air Groove: (glancing at him, arching a brow) Reflecting? From this angle it looks like slacking.

Yasuaki: (shrugging lazily) Slacking, reflecting... two sides of the same coin. Depends who's holding it.

Air Groove: (pinching her temple, muttering) ...How your sister tolerates you, I'll never know.

Rudolf: (interjecting calmly) He's made progress, Groove. He's building something of his own now. A club.

Air Groove: (eyes narrowing slightly, then crossing her arms) A club? You? That implies commitment.

Yasuaki: (exhales slowly, shrugging both hands with a faint smirk) ...Looks like someone just hates it when I'm around.

Air Groove: (huffing, sharp) Don't flatter yourself. What I dislike is wasted potential parading as effort.

Rudolf: (soft chuckle, watching them) Groove, you sound harsher than intended.

Air Groove: (glances at Rudolf, sighs) ...Perhaps. But I won't coddle him either. If he's serious about this club, then he should act like it.

Yasuaki: (pushing himself up from the couch, stretching his arms lazily) You're both making it sound like I'm playing a game. (sighs) ...Relax. I get it. I'll prove it on the track, not in here.

Air Groove: (folding her arms, tone sharp but restrained) Words are cheap. Show me results, yasuaki . That will speak louder.

Yasuaki: (heading for the door, muttering half to himself) ...Always back to results. Can't even step out for air without being judged.

He slides the door open, stepping into the hallway. The cool breeze of the corridor greets him, and for a moment his usual sarcasm fades, replaced by a quieter determination. 

Rudolf: (watching him leave, her voice calm but carrying weight) Groove.

Air Groove: (turning slightly) ...Yes. 

Rudolf: You must learn balance. Pressure can forge strength, but too much will only break the steel. He carries more than he admits,responsibility, frustration, and perhaps... a little hope he doesn't dare show.

Air Groove: (pausing, frowning slightly) ...Hope? From him? Compared to a couple of years ago, I can see a difference in how he manages things. Back then, when he was acting director... his decisions were sharp, but cold. Efficient, yes, but he looked at people like moving parts in a machine. Now... (she crosses her arms tighter) ...he's different.

Rudolf: (nodding slowly, her tone warm but thoughtful) That is growth, Groove. You see, leadership isn't only about clarity and discipline. It's about seeing potential in people, even when they cannot see it themselves. That boy... (a faint smile curves her lips) ...he was once a child wandering these halls with eyes full of fire and doubt in equal measure. Now he hides his fire behind sarcasm, but it hasn't gone out. It's being redirected.

Air Groove: (skeptical) Redirected into what? Into training girls like Haru Urara, who has yet to escape the shadow of her losses? Or into pulling quiet talents like Rice Shower into his orbit? You know better than I do how fragile these hopes can be.

Rudolf: (closing her eyes briefly, then reopening them with quiet conviction) Exactly why someone like him matters. Fragile hopes need someone who understands both the weight of failure and the thrill of success.

Rudolf: (chuckling softly, a rare warmth in her voice) And perhaps he is - though he'd deny it with every breath.

Air Groove raises an eyebrow but doesn't argue, the corner of her lips tugging faintly despite herself. The heavy air in the office loosens, replaced by something lighter, almost amused.

Rudolf: (smiling gently as she returns to her paperwork) Let him prove it in his own way, Groove. We will see soon enough.

The vice president exhales, shaking her head as though conceding. With that, the matter rests.

──────────

(Training Field - Afternoon)

The afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the track. A dry breeze carried the faint tang of dirt and sweat as Yasuaki stood with his arms folded, eyes sharp on the field where King Halo rolled her shoulders. Today's focus wasn't Urara or even Rice , it was King Halo's preparation for the Takamatsunomiya Kinen, one of the toughest mile-sprint showdowns in the country.

Yasuaki: (firmly, pointing toward the cones laid across the track) King Halo. We'll sharpen your acceleration drills. Short bursts, No sloppy form this race won't forgive it.

King Halo: (smirking, tossing her hair back with pride) Hmph. As if I'd ever allow myself to look sloppy. I am a first-rate lady, after all.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) A "first-rate lady" still needs explosive starts, or she'll be eating dust before the first corner.

Rice giggled quietly as she jogged into place to help pace King Halo during the bursts. Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Urara plopped down beside Yasuaki with her usual bouncy energy, swinging her legs back and forth like a child who couldn't sit still.

Haru Urara: (grumbling) Ehhhhh... Sensei, why do they get to run and I have to sit here like a scarecrow?

Yasuaki: (glancing at her, voice even) Because you just raced yesterday. You placed sixth. Your legs need rest more than they need punishment.

Haru Urara: (puffing her cheeks) But I'm fine now! I could totally run! I can do laps! Maybe pull a tire!

Yasuaki: (deadpan) You were complaining about tire pulls two days ago.

Haru Urara: (flailing her arms dramatically) That's different! Complaining is part of training!

Yasuaki: (sighing, rubbing his temple) You have a very unique definition of training, Urara.

Rice giggles softly from where she's tying her shoes, covering her mouth with a shy smile. Even King Halo cracks the faintest smirk, though she keeps her eyes forward.

King Halo: (arching an elegant brow)Urara, let the grown-ups work. I have Takamatsunomiya Kinen to prepare for, and I don't intend to let Special Week keep me down a second time.

Haru Urara: (perking up) Ohhh! Right! The big race! (grins wide) Then I'll cheer super hard! That's training too, right, Sensei?

Yasuaki: (exhaling but smiling faintly) Sure. Just don't overdo it or you'll lose your voice before your next entry.

He clicks his stopwatch and gestures toward King Halo and Rice.

Yasuaki: All right, you two - pace runs. Four intervals, each. Rice, keep her honest. King, I want you focusing on explosive starts, not just holding speed.

King Halo: (nodding firmly, determination in her eyes) Understood. I won't waste this session.

The whistle blows, and both King Halo and Rice spring forward, their hooves kicking up light dirt. Yasuaki watches sharply, his eyes following every stride, while Urara lies back on the grass, shading her eyes with her hands, muttering under her breath.

Haru Urara: (muttering) Lucky... I wanna run too... but Sensei says nooo, "rest day, Urara, don't hurt yourself"...

Yasuaki: (without looking at her) I can hear you, you know.

Haru Urara: (sitting up, grinning sheepishly) Ehehe~... motivation, Sensei! It means I'm eager!

[five days later]

The sun dips low in the sky, painting the track in streaks of gold and crimson. For five days straight, Yasuaki has balanced his training time between King Halo and Haru Urara the latter whining through nearly every session, but still somehow finishing each drill with stubborn determination. Today, though, the spotlight is firmly on King Halo. Rice Shower cools down beside the track, her steady presence helping to pace King's training. Haru Urara sits on the bleachers with an ice pack pressed to her legs, having been scolded out of joining today's sprints.

Yasuaki: (clicking his stopwatch as King Halo finishes her last run) Good. Your acceleration curve is tighter now. Hold that sharpness and you'll have room to unleash in the back stretch.

King Halo: (breathing hard, hands on her hips, but holding her chin high) Hmph. Of course. I told you I wouldn't waste this training.

Haru Urara: (grinning from the bleachers) Sensei! I did my stretches today without complaining! That counts as progress, right?!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, jotting notes) Miracles do happen, apparently.

Haru Urara: (pouting, tail swishing) Heyyy!

As the last light fades, Yasuaki dismisses them. Rice quietly escorts Urara back toward the dorms, the two girls chatting as their silhouettes shrink down the path. King Halo lingers behind at the school gates, her phone in hand. She hesitates a moment, then finally dials. The call connects, and a voice elegant yet sharp answers on the other end.

King Halo's Mother: (cool, elegant) ...Halo. I trust you've been training?

King Halo: (straightening instinctively, her voice formal) Yes, Mother. Every day. My form, my starts, my stamina-everything's been sharpened. My race is in two days.

Mother: (curt, unimpressed) Two days. The Takamatsunomiya Kinen. You will not squander it like Takarazuka. Do you understand?

King Halo: (hesitating, then firm) ...I do.

Mother: (sighing lightly, almost dismissive) Do not simply do. You must win. Victory is the only language the world respects. Second, third, even fourth, those are excuses, not results. Do not drag the family's name into mediocrity again.

King Halo's grip tightens on the phone. Her chest feels heavy, but her voice stays even, polished, almost rehearsed.

King Halo: Yes, Mother. I won't fail.

Mother: See that you don't. And mind your image. Poise, grace, refinement-no clumsy gestures, no graceless interviews. A first-class lady must present herself flawlessly, no matter the outcome.

King Halo: (quietly, eyes downcast) ...Of course.

There's a brief silence. In the background, faint sounds of staff moving through her mother's home filter through, servants fussing, perhaps tidying after another mess she herself couldn't handle. The contrast is sharp, almost bitterly ironic.

Mother: You are my daughter, Halo. Expectations are not suggestions-they are obligations. Never forget that.

King Halo: (clutching the phone tighter, her voice soft, almost trembling) ...I won't. Goodbye, Mother.

Mother: Goodbye.

The line clicks dead. King Halo stands frozen, staring at the phone screen as the sunset bleeds deeper into dusk. For a moment her proud posture falters, shoulders sagging, breath shaking out of her chest. She whispers to herself, so softly that only the empty street can hear.

King Halo: (whispering) ...Why does it feel like nothing's ever enough...?

The sound of footsteps crunches against the gravel behind her. She stiffens immediately, snapping her head up-only to see Yasuaki emerging from the fading light, his hands shoved casually in his pockets. He stops a short distance away, his expression unreadable, but his eyes sharp as always.

Yasuaki: (calm, low) ...That was your mother, wasn't it?

King Halo's head jerks, her composure snapping back on like armor. She turns sharply, one hand brushing at her face as though adjusting stray strands of hair.

King Halo: (startled, defensive) Wh-how long have you been standing there?!

Yasuaki: (raising a hand slightly, deadpan) Long enough. Sorry. Didn't mean to eavesdrop. But... I'd suspected you had a situation of your own. I just didn't think it was her pushing you this hard.

King Halo's throat tightens. For once, the proud tilt of her chin wavers. She clicks her tongue and looks away, but her voice comes out quieter than usual.

King Halo: (bitterly) Hmph. It seems I'm more transparent than I thought. But what does it matter? She's always been like this. Victory, polish, image. If I can't stand tall and win, then I'm... nothing.

Yasuaki studies her for a long moment, his expression softer than usual, though his voice stays steady and blunt as ever.

Yasuaki: ...So that's why you joined my club. Not because you thought I was competent. Because you wanted someone to keep Urara from breaking herself, while you... chased your mother's approval.

King Halo's eyes widen slightly-caught off guard at how easily he'd read her intentions. She lets out a weak laugh, almost self-mocking, folding her arms tightly across her chest as though to shield herself.

King Halo: (quiet, trembling) ...And here I thought I was the one observing you. You're sharper than you let on, Yasuaki-sensei , Maybe too sharp.

Yasuaki: (shrugging, gaze fixed on the dimming track instead of her) Observation's all I'm good at. I don't run, I don't shine on the turf. I just watch. Guess we both have something in common, different flaws, different situations.

King Halo tilts her head, brow furrowing at his words. Yasuaki exhales, His tone stays even, but there's a faint undercurrent of something more personal something he doesn't usually reveal.

Yasuaki: ...I never knew my real mother. My father took me in as soon as I was born, and the rest of that story... well, it doesn't matter much. What does matter is the woman who raised me after that. My stepmother. She wasn't perfect , no one is, but she never once treated me like I didn't belong.

His lips curve faintly, almost nostalgic, though his expression stays subdued.

Yasuaki: She used to say I was sharper than I realized. Too sharp, sometimes. That I'd cut myself before I cut through anything else. But she still believed in me. Saw something worth encouraging. She told me to use that sharpness for others. To watch for the ones who fall behind, the ones who get trampled under the weight of expectations. Said if I couldn't run myself, then I should support those who could.

His eyes flick toward her, serious now.

Yasuaki: Which is why I decided to become a trainer and to keep working with my mother's academy. Not because it's easy. Not because it's glorious. But because it means I get to help people like you push past those walls everyone else builds around you.

King Halo stiffens, her hands curling at her sides. Yasuaki straightens slightly, the lazy slouch leaving his shoulders as he speaks with quiet conviction.

Yasuaki: Your mother may never say it. She might only see what you lack instead of what you have. But when I watch you run, Halo, I see a fighter. Someone who refuses to stop even when the world says you've already lost. That's not weakness, it's stubborn strength. The kind that can change a race in its last breath.

His tone softens, almost like he's speaking to the younger version of himself who once needed these words, too.

Yasuaki: You don't need to be perfect. You don't need to win every time just to prove you belong. All you need to do is run in a way that makes you proud-because the people who matter will see it, even if your mother never does. And whether it's the Takamatsunomiya Kinen or any race after, I'll make sure you're ready to show that side of yourself.

King Halo's chest tightens at his words. She looks away quickly, blinking hard as if she refuses to let the moisture gathering in her eyes fall. But her voice comes out lower, less armored, more vulnerable than before.

King Halo: (whispering, trembling slightly) ...No one's ever said it like that before. Not to me. Not even once.

She lowers her gaze, ears flicking back uneasily. Her proud posture falters as if the words have stolen her armor away. She forces a laugh, brittle at the edges.

King Halo: We've only known each other for five days, Yasuaki sensei . Five. And I never asked for anyone's help, least of all yours. So... why must you? Why say all this to me?

Her voice wavers between pride and something softer,almost pleading. Yasuaki exhales slowly, scratching the back of his head as if the question itself was obvious.

Yasuaki: Because you're my trainee now. That's reason enough.

King Halo's eyes widen slightly, taken aback by the simplicity of it. Yasuaki's tone doesn't rise, doesn't waver, steady, almost casual, but heavy with sincerity.

Yasuaki: You don't need to ask. Helping you run better, keeping you from breaking down, making sure you can hold your head high when you step on that turf-that's my job. And maybe... (he glances at her, faint smirk tugging at his lips) ...maybe it's more than that.

King Halo: (frowning)More than that?

Yasuaki: I see a runner who carries weight she shouldn't have to. Pride, expectations, a name tied to something bigger than herself. You walk around like you've got the whole world's eyes on you. But under it all, you're still a girl who just wants to run. You shouldn't have to shoulder it alone.

King Halo freezes. Her ears twitch, tail swishing uncertainly as if betraying the emotions bubbling inside. She laughs again, this time softer, not mocking.

King Halo: (murmuring) You really are troublesome, Yasuaki Sensei Who gives this kind of advice to a girl they barely know?

Yasuaki: (shrugging, tone dry but warm)The same guy who told Urara to keep running, and Rice that she wasn't finished yet. Five days or five years-it doesn't matter. Once you're in my care, you get all of me.

There's a silence, heavy but not uncomfortable. King Halo studies him, her sharp green eyes softening. For the first time, the Empress-like air around her eases, revealing the Uma Musume girl beneath the pedigree. She exhales slowly, almost a sigh of relief she didn't know she was holding.

King Halo: (softly) ...Thank you.

Yasuaki straightens slightly, pushing his hands into his pockets. His expression doesn't change much, but there's a subtle nod, as though her gratitude is enough.

Yasuaki: It's late. Go back to the dorms, get some sleep. Big day tomorrow, and you'll need every ounce of focus.

King Halo hesitates for a second, then nods. She turns, walking toward the dorm path, her posture still proud but lighter now, her tail swishing gently with every step. Yasuaki watches her go until she disappears from sight, then lets out a long breath and heads home.

( Next day) 

The days leading up to Takamatsunomiya Kinen were packed. Yasuaki fine-tuned King Halo's training sessions with clinical precision, swapping endurance drills for explosive sprint bursts, then integrating sharp cornering work to prepare her for the high-paced 1200m turf dash. 

Haru Urara: (cupping her hands, shouting from the fence) Go, King-chan! Show the track who's boss!

King Halo: (panting but smirking mid-run) Loud as ever...

Despite the grueling pace, King Halo pushed herself hard, her pride refusing to let her legs slow. Yasuaki stayed quiet most of the time, only speaking to give crisp, pointed feedback. When she hit her best time on the final trial run, he simply gave her a small nod.

Yasuaki: (calmly) Good. Hold that pace at 600m, and you'll stay in the front pack. Keep your focus tight at the final corner-that's where you win or lose this one.

King Halo: (straightening, catching her breath) I know. I won't let this one slip.

──────────
( Day of Takamatsunomiya Kinen race ) 

The morning air was brisk, the kind that carried the promise of excitement. The streets leading toward Chūkyō Racecourse were already buzzing with fans in team colors, waving banners and trading predictions.

Yasuaki walked with his usual calm pace, hands in his pockets, while Haru Urara practically skipped at his side, humming cheerfully despite still holding onto the sting of her last race. Rice Shower followed a step behind, quiet as always but her eyes scanning the crowd, soaking in the atmosphere. Beside Yasuaki, King Halo kept her chin high, her emerald eyes fixed forward, exuding the air of someone who belonged here.

They had just crossed the final turn of the main street when a familiar group emerged from the other side of the crowd-voices lively, presence undeniable.

Gold Ship: (grinning, waving her arms dramatically) Oi, oi, oi! If it isn't Yasuaki~! The couch-napper trainer himself!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, sighing) ...Great. My day's already ruined.

Tokai Teio: (bounding forward, hands on her hips) Hey! That's rude! You should be honored to run into Team Spica on race day! Especially with me here!

Yasuaki: (glancing at her flatly) I was doing fine without the honor.

Haru Urara: (ears perking, bouncing excitedly) Wahhh~! It's Teio-chan and Suzuka-san and everyone! You all look umazing!!

Rice Shower: (softly, nodding politely) ...Good morning.

Suzuka returned the bow with her usual grace, her calm demeanor a contrast to the chaos of Gold Ship bouncing around like an unleashed firecracker and Vodka bickering with Daiwa Scarlet about who looked sharper in their racing gear.

Vodka: (grinning, pointing at King Halo) Well, well... if it isn't the "Empress." You aiming to actually prove yourself today?

Daiwa Scarlet: (snapping at Vodka) Don't be rude! She's a strong runner. Respect your rivals!

King Halo: (smirking, tossing her hair) Hmph. I don't need your respect. I'll show my worth on the turf, where it matters.

Her voice was confident, but Yasuaki, walking beside her, caught the tiny flicker in her eyes, the echo of her mother's words. He said nothing, though, her pride was her shield, and today she'd need it.

And then Special Week stepped forward.

Special Week: (bright smile, waving cheerfully) Good morning! You're here too, huh? Today's race... let's both do our best!

King Halo: (firmly) Don't worry. I intend to. I won't lose again.

Special Week just nodded warmly, completely unbothered, her bubbly optimism radiating like sunlight. Yasuaki studied her quietly, remembering the reports he'd read, the whispers of her rapid rise... and the way she'd dismantled King Halo before. A dangerous rival indeed.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning wide, clapping a heavy hand on Yasuaki's shoulder) Oi, oi, what's this? You finally got yourself more than one trainee? King Halo of all people? Heh, didn't think the lazy genius had it in him.

Yasuaki: (glancing flatly, brushing his hand off) ...There's nothing surprising about it. I've already created my own club. Training multiple Uma is part of the plan.

Gold Ship: (eyes widening, dramatically leaning over Teio's shoulder) Ehh~?! Couch-boy started a club? Since when?!

Tokai Teio: (snapping her fingers, smirking) Ahhh, so that's why you were acting all secretive last time. Geez, you really think you can keep stuff from me? I'll find out anyway!

Yasuaki: (sighing, muttering under his breath) ...Unfortunately.

Vodka: (grinning, crossing her arms) Starting a club, huh. That's gutsy. Gonna be real embarrassing if you crash and burn.

Daiwa Scarlet: (huffing, glaring at Vodka) Stop being rude! If he's serious about it, then it's something worth watching.

Silence Suzuka: (calm, smiling softly) If he has King Halo on his roster, then it won't be boring, at least.

At the mention of her name, King Halo lifted her chin, emerald eyes gleaming. She stepped forward, her voice crisp and prideful.

King Halo: Hmph. Of course it won't. With me on his team, "boring" is the last word anyone would use.

Yasuaki: (dryly) Just focus on the race, Halo.

For a flicker of a second, King Halo's pride wavered at his calm, steady tone - as if he could see right through her defenses , but she quickly recovered, brushing her hair back with a sharp toss, her chin lifted.

King Halo: (haughty) Of course. I don't intend to disappoint.

Before the announcer's call for runners to change into their race gear could cut through the air, Yasuaki's sharp gaze drifted toward Special Week, his eyes narrowing in mild analysis. Then his brow arched slightly, tone just as blunt as always.

Yasuaki: (flat, analytical) ...Special Week, you've gained weight since last time I saw you in the club room.

There was a beat of silence. Special Week froze, her bright smile shattering, ears shooting straight up in alarm. Then-

Special Week: (flustered, face bright red) E-EH?! Y-You can't just SAY that! That's harassment!!

She stomped a foot, her tail puffing slightly before tears welled in her eyes. Then she turned on her heel and bolted toward the locker room, shouting back over her shoulder.

Special Week: (sniffling) M-Meanieee!!

The entire group froze. Then chaos ensued.

Haru Urara: (gasping dramatically) SENSEI!! You made Spe-chan cry!

Rice Shower: (quietly, frowning) ...That was kind of harsh, Yasuaki-sensei 

King Halo: (crossing her arms, smirking despite herself) I can't believe I'm saying this, but you really are hopeless.

Vodka: (grinning, half-laughing) Pfft-didn't think you'd be the type to start drama right before a big race.

Daiwa Scarlet: (stomping her foot, glaring) Vodka! Don't laugh! Poor Special Week, she didn't deserve that!

Gold Ship: (howling with laughter) BWAHAHA! This is priceless! The stoic couch potato of a trainer just nuked the transfer student with one line!

Pervert Senpai: (storming up, grabbing Yasuaki's shoulder) OI! That's my trainee you just reduced to tears! What kind of trainer says that in public?!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, brushing his hand off) The kind that notices things. She's your trainee, not mine, but it's still obvious.

Silence Suzuka: (calm, though a tiny smile tugs at her lips) Maybe obvious to you. Next time... try to be kinder with your words.

Haru Urara: (puffing her cheeks) Sensei's like a storm cloud sometimes! He's right, but it rains all over everyone!!

King Halo: (huffing, flicking her hair) Agreed. You could at least learn some tact. Honestly...

Rice nodded softly in agreement, Urara dramatically waved her arms, Vodka and Gold Ship were still laughing, Scarlet kept glaring, and Pervert Senpai was still fuming. Yasuaki let out a long sigh, muttering under his breath.

──────────

[Race gate ,Takamatsunomiya Kinen]

The air was charged with expectation. The sound of the crowd swelled as the Uma Musume at the gate , hooves clicking against the ground. Trainers, fans, and rivals all leaned forward to watch. Special Week and King Halo both stood out , one with nervous energy, the other with regal pride masking inner turmoil.

Special Week: (pumping her fists, trying to psych herself up) Okay! Deep breath, Special Week! It's just another race! ...Well, not just another race, but still! I'll win it for Mom, for Japan, for... for dinner!!

King Halo: (scoffing, adjusting her mane, voice crisp) Honestly. Shouting about dinner before a G1 race? First-class girls don't chatter like schoolchildren. ...Still, I won't let you take this one from me, Special Week.

Special Week: (turning, pouting) H-hey, don't look down on me! I'll give it everything I've got!

Nearby, Urara waved wildly from the fence, her voice carrying across the gate 

Haru Urara: (cheering) King-chan! Spe-chan! Do your best! Run like the wind! We'll be cheering SUPER loud!!

Rice Shower: (smiling softly, clasping her hands) ...Both of you, good luck.

The announcer's voice boomed across the grounds, signaling the final call to the gates. The Uma Musume trotted off, determination etched across their faces as they lined up.

Yasuaki sat with arms crossed, eyes sharp as he analyzed the lineup. Beside him, Pervert Senpai leaned forward with all the seriousness of a man at war, though his presence was... less refined.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning wide) Heh. This is it! Watch closely, Akikawa. My girl, Special Week, is going to blow the field apart. You'll see what a real trainer's bond looks like!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, not looking at him) ...You mean the bond where she runs while you ogle the track girls?

Pervert Senpai: (spluttering, flailing) Oi! Low blow! That's called "multi-tasking." A refined art!

Yasuaki: (sighing) Refined isn't the word I'd use.

Still, his gaze didn't waver from the track. His mind ran through every stride, every strength and weakness he'd seen in Halo's training, and every edge Special Week had shown in Spica's practice runs.

The Uma Musume filed into the gates, tails flicking, ears twitching with tension. Special Week stamped a hoof, bouncing slightly, her grin bright despite her nerves. King Halo stood tall, her brown eyes focused straight ahead, every inch the noble Empress. The crowd hushed, a thousand breaths held in unison.

Announcer: (voice booming) Ladies and gentlemen, the Takamatsunomiya Kinen twelve hundred meters, sprint to glory begins now!

The bell rang. The gates flew open. A roar of cheers exploded across the racecourse as twelve Umamusume burst forward, the thunder of hooves shaking the turf. Special Week shot out of the gate like lightning, her brown hair fluttering behind her. The crowd roared as she pushed herself to the front pack almost immediately, her hooves eating the turf in long, powerful strides. Her natural cheer shone even here eyes bright, grin wide, as though she were enjoying every second of it.

Announcer: (energetic) And charging straight to the front it's Special Week! Look at that acceleration! A dazzling lead.

In the stands, Pervert Senpai leapt from his seat, pumping a fist like a man possessed.

Pervert Senpai: (shouting) THAT'S IT, SPE-CHAN! SHOW THEM YOUR SPEED!! That's my girl!

Yasuaki stayed silent, arms folded, his sharp gaze never leaving the track. His tone was calm, steady like a teacher pointing out a lesson.

Yasuaki: She's running like a classic front-runner. Quick break, surging early, controlling the pace. If she keeps this up, she'll try to hold everyone off until the wire.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning, jabbing a thumb at himself) Hah! Exactly! That's the beauty of her style. Pure strength and guts.

Yasuaki: (flatly, still watching) ...Or it means she risks burning out too early. If the pace gets too hot, she'll bleed stamina in the last stretch.

Pervert Senpai faltered for a second, then puffed his chest back up stubbornly. Meanwhile, Yasuaki's eyes narrowed slightly as his attention shifted back to the field. Further behind, King Halo hadn't joined the first pack. Instead, she kept herself just behind mid-field, her stride deliberate, biding her time.

Yasuaki: (quietly) And there's Halo... keeping distance. She's not a sprinter who explodes from the gate. She's waiting-an off-the-pace runner. She'll test them on the final stretch.

Down on the turf, King Halo's sharp brown eyes glimmered with focus. She wasn't panicking about Spe's lead-if anything, her lips curved with a faint smirk as she kept her rhythm. Every stride was measured, conserving energy while others pushed too fast, too soon.

Announcer: At the halfway mark-Special Week still leading, stretching the field behind her! King Halo holding steady in mid-pack, watching closely!

Urara jumped from her seat, waving her arms frantically, her voice carrying over the roar of the crowd.

Haru Urara: (shouting with all her heart) King-chan!! Don't give up!! You can do it just run your way!!

Rice Shower: (quiet but firm, eyes never leaving the track) ...She's waiting for her moment. She won't waste her legs now

The stadium buzzed louder as the pack rounded the last turn. Special Week was still in the lead, her chest heaving, legs pounding against the turf as though she could will herself to victory by sheer determination alone. But the gap was shrinking. Behind her, King Halo had finally made her move.

Announcer: (shouting) And here comes King Halo!! Charging out of the pack with furious speed! Look at that acceleration!!

Her hooves tore at the dirt, sending clumps flying as her stride widened, sharper, stronger. The cheers of the crowd thundered like a wave, and for the first time, Special Week's ears flicked back, she felt someone coming.

Special Week: (gritting her teeth, gasping) ...No...! I won't-lose-!!

She forced herself harder, her whole body screaming, but the pace she'd set early was beginning to betray her. Each stride burned, her rhythm faltering ever so slightly. And then-Halo appeared at her flank.

Announcer: They're neck and neck!! Special Week on the inside, King Halo surging from the outside! This is the duel we've been waiting for!

In the stands, Urara nearly toppled over the railing, waving her arms with all her strength.

Haru Urara: (screaming) KING-CHAN!! PUSH-!! YOU CAN WIN THIS!!

Rice leaned forward, hands clasped tightly in front of her mouth, her eyes wide and glittering as the two rivals lunged forward with everything they had.

Rice Shower: (whispering fiercely) ...Don't stop now. Keep going!

Pervert Senpai was stomping his feet on the stands, his voice hoarse from shouting.

Pervert Senpai: (roaring) SPE-CHAN!! HOLD IT!! DON'T LET HER PASS!!

Yasuaki, however,eyes narrow and sharp, following every detail of Halo's form.

Yasuaki: (murmuring) ...Perfect timing. Every ounce of strength saved for this moment. That's it, Halo. Run like hell.

The final 300m turned into a war. Both Uma Musume stretched their bodies to the absolute limit, faces twisted with effort, their breaths ragged, their legs blurring as they struck the ground in unison. The crowd's roar became deafening, shaking the stadium like a storm.

Announcer: Special Week... King Halo... they're side by side!! Who will break first?! Who has more left in the tank?!

And then-King Halo's stride widened just one more notch. The dirt exploded beneath her hooves as she drew ahead, her body screaming but her pride refusing to yield. She lunged past Special Week. 

Announcer: (exploding with excitement) KING HALO TAKES THE LEAD!! JUST METERS REMAINING!!

Special Week gave a final, desperate cry, trying to close the gap-but it was too late. King Halo's last surge carried her across the line, her body diving forward with everything she had left. The crowd erupted into a thunderous cheer, banners waving, voices soaring as the photo finish confirmed the result.

Announcer: First place , King Halo!! What a magnificent run, what a magnificent victory!! Special Week, second, just behind her!

King Halo's hooves slowed as she crossed the finish, her entire body trembling. She stumbled once, nearly falling, but caught herself, head held high. Her chest rose and fell in desperate gasps, sweat glistening on her face, but her crimson eyes were alight with something brighter than exhaustion. Triumph. She had done it. She had silenced every doubt, every sneer. She was a victor.

Announcer: (still booming over the stadium) KING HALO!! With a furious final surge, she conquers the Takamatsunomiya Kinen!! A dazzling finish!!

The roar of the crowd washed over her. Somewhere beyond that wall of sound, she thought she heard Urara's shrill cheering and Rice's softer, steadier voice, but her focus was already elsewhere. She knew the protocol, knew what came next-the long walk back through the paddock and into the locker hallway. Her legs shook, but she forced herself forward, mane whipping as she hurried inside, every step carrying her pride with her. She wanted to face this moment standing tall.

In the stands, Urara was bouncing on her toes, tail wagging, her voice practically exploding from her throat.

Haru Urara: (beaming, shouting) Sensei! Sensei!! Where are you going?! Don't you wanna celebrate with us?!

Yasuaki was already on his feet, his gaze fixed not on the track anymore, but on the tunnel that led toward the inner hallway. His expression was calm, but his eyes had that sharp focus again. He exhaled slowly, sliding his hands into his pockets before answering without turning.

Yasuaki: Stay here, Haru. You too, Rice.

Rice Shower: (blinking, confused) ...But-Sensei-

Yasuaki: (tone steady, almost gentle) Stay with him. (he tilts his chin toward Pervert Senpai, who was still flailing with excitement over Special Week's effort) Don't let him wander off and embarrass himself.

Pervert Senpai: (turning with a pout) Hey! I heard that, Akikawa! I'm her proud trainer, not some kid needing babysitting!

Yasuaki didn't even bother replying, just gave a faint shrug as if to say case in point. Urara puffed her cheeks, still bouncing in place, looking torn between obeying and chasing after him.

Haru Urara: (whining) Ehhh?! But-but Sensei, I wanna come too! Don't leave me behind!

Urara's cheeks puffed as she bounced at Yasuaki's side, her tail wagging in frantic protest. Yasuaki finally stopped, crouching slightly to pat her head with an almost brotherly firmness. She froze mid-whine, blinking up at him as his voice dropped softer, calm and steady

Yasuaki: It won't take long. Just wait here with Rice. I'll be back before you know it.

Urara puffed her cheeks again but huffed out a breath and nodded, gripping the railing tightly instead. Yasuaki gave her one last brief look before slipping away, disappearing into the tunnel that led toward the locker rooms. The stadium noise dimmed as he left.

──────────

[Locker Hallway - King Halo]

King Halo was standing outside the changing room, phone pressed tightly to her ear. Her crimson eyes still shone from the victory, her chest rising and falling with residual adrenaline. A rare, almost childlike smile tugged at her lips as she began to speak, voice eager and trembling with pride.

King Halo: (breathless, excited) Mother! Did you see?! I won-I actually won the Takamatsunomiya Kinen! I-

Her words were cut off by the crisp, composed voice on the other end. Her mother's tone carried refinement, but also distance. A sharpness that drained the air from Halo's chest.

King Halo's Mother: (cool, unimpressed) ...Yes, I saw. You should at least be capable of that much by now. It is hardly an accomplishment.

Halo blinked, the warmth on her face faltering. She gripped the phone tighter, forcing her smile back, as if maybe if she sounded happier her mother would too.

King Halo: B-but-Mother, it was a Grade 1! The crowd cheered-!

King Halo's Mother: (cutting in) The crowd cheered louder for Special Week. I heard them. You may have crossed first, but she is the name they spoke. The face they remembered.

Halo's breath caught. Her chest tightened, her nails digging into the fabric of her skirt. She tried to laugh, but it came out brittle, strained.

King Halo: (weakly) I... I still won... doesn't that mean anything?

King Halo's Mother: Winning is the bare minimum expected of you. If you wish to be remembered, to be first-rate, you must achieve more than this. Until then... you are only proving you can finally do what you should have done from the start.

The line went quiet for a second. Halo opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her eyes stung, her throat tight. She swallowed, forcing her voice not to break.

King Halo: (whispering) ...I see. Yes, Mother. I'll do better.

King Halo's Mother: (flat, almost dismissive) Do not embarrass me again. click

The call ended. The screen dimmed. Halo sat there frozen, phone slipping slightly in her hand. Her proud shoulders sagged as her body trembled. The cheers of the stadium outside felt a world away. She had just won one of the biggest races of her life yet her chest felt hollow.

King Halo's fingers curled tightly around her skirt, but before the tears could spill, she felt something unexpected - a gentle weight resting on her head.

Her crimson eyes widened.

King Halo: (startled) ...Eh-?!

She turned just enough to see Yasuaki standing over her, one hand calmly resting atop her head. His expression was unreadable as usual, but there was something softer in the corner of his mouth, something that almost looked like a smile.

Yasuaki: (dryly) Huh. And here I thought first-class Uma Musume didn't cry in locker hallways. You'll ruin the image, you know.

Halo froze, blinking up at him. For a second, she looked ready to snap back with her usual pride but then the tension broke, and a quiet, disbelieving laugh slipped out of her.

King Halo: (half-laugh, half-sniffle) ...You're impossible, trainer.

Yasuaki: (shrugs) So I've been told.

His hand still resting lightly on her head. His tone softened just slightly, but it was enough to cut through the hollow ache still weighing on her chest.

Yasuaki: You did good out there. No , you did better than good. You waited for the right moment, made your move, and didn't waste a single step. That's what a smart runner does.

Halo bit her lip, her chest tightening again - but this time it wasn't from pain. It was from the unfamiliar warmth spreading through her.

King Halo: (quietly) You... you really think so?

Yasuaki: (flat, but warm) If I didn't, I wouldn't be here saying it. You won the Takamatsunomiya Kinen. No one can take that from you , not the crowd, not the critics, not even your mother.

At that last word, Halo flinched, glancing away quickly but Yasuaki caught it. He didn't press, just gently patted her head once more before withdrawing his hand.

Yasuaki: (standing, tone wry) C'mon. You're supposed to look like a winner, not like someone just stepped on your tail. Urara and Rice are probably driving Pervert-senpai insane by now.

King Halo let out a quiet breath through her nose, straightened her back, and followed him. By the time they stepped out into the hallway, her expression had returned to something more dignified - though Yasuaki, walking just slightly ahead, could tell there was still a faint redness around her eyes. He didn't comment.

The sound of running footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Haru Urara: (grinning, waving wildly) King-chan! Sensei! There you are! We were waiting forever!

She skidded to a stop in front of them, nearly bumping into King Halo before bouncing back with a wide smile. Rice followed at a calmer pace, her hands clasped politely in front of her, a quiet relief in her eyes as she saw them safe.

Rice Shower: (softly, smiling) ...You really won. Congratulations, King-san.

King Halo: (hesitating for a fraction of a second, then smiling back, pride settling on her shoulders) Thank you, Rice.

Pervert-senpai jogged up next, out of breath and dramatically clutching his chest.

Pervert-senpai: (wheezing, clutching his knees) You... do you have any idea what it's like to babysit these two for more than ten minutes?! Urara almost climbed over the rail to cheer for other umas . And Rice , thank heavens kindly told her it was dangerous!

Haru Urara: (pouting, puffing her cheeks) I was just cheering extra hard! Sensei left me behind, so I had to make up for it!

Yasuaki just gave a slow blink.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) You were fine. The fact that you made it here first proves you had energy to burn.

Haru Urara: (pointing dramatically at King Halo) Still! I should’ve been the first to congratulate her, not you, Sensei!

King Halo’s crimson eyes widened slightly at that before she covered it with a small, amused smirk.

King Halo: (lightly) Well, you’re certainly the loudest to congratulate me, Urara. That counts for something.

The sound of more approaching steps broke the moment. Team Spica arrived as a group ,  Gold Ship practically bounding forward, Daiwa Scarlet walking with hands on her hips, Vodka lazily trailing with her hands in her pockets, and Silence Suzuka offering her usual soft smile. Behind them, Tokai Teio was half-bouncing, half-skipping  while Special Week trailed last, sniffling and rubbing her eyes.

Gold Ship: (grinning wide) Ho-ho! Look at you, Halo! That finish was chef’s kiss! I nearly fell out of my seat watching you rocket past!

Daiwa Scarlet: (crossing her arms, smiling despite herself) Hmph. I’ll admit it was impressive. You really pulled through in that final stretch.

Vodka: (grinning, casual) Yeah, that last push was brutal. Respect.

Tokai Teio: (bouncing excitedly) King! You looked soooo cool at the finish! I’m totally stealing that move next time!

Silence Suzuka: (smiling softly) It was a clean, beautiful run. Congratulations, Halo-san.

King Halo blinked, momentarily taken aback by the flood of praise. For a heartbeat, she glanced sideways at Yasuaki, who gave her the faintest nod a silent reminder of what he said minutes ago. Slowly, her smirk curved into a genuine smile.

King Halo: (proudly, but warmer) Thank you. All of you.

Special Week, still sniffling, suddenly blurted out between hiccups.

Special Week: (crying) I-I tried so hard… but you were just… so fast!

Before she could fall apart completely, Silence Suzuka stepped forward and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a steady, comforting hug.

Silence Suzuka: (soft, soothing) You did your best, Spe-chan. That’s what matters. You’ll get stronger.

Daiwa Scarlet moved in next, her voice sharp but caring.

Daiwa Scarlet: (firm) Crying after one loss won’t do you any good. Use it. Remember how this feels and push harder next time.

Vodka: (nodding, casual) Yeah. Take it from me — no one wins ‘em all. But you’ll bounce back.

Tokai Teio: (cheerfully, bouncing) Exactly! You’ll get her next time! You’re still amazing, Spe-chan!

Gold Ship: (grinning, dramatic) Besides, if you didn’t lose now and then, how would you ever appreciate the glorious taste of victory ice cream later?

Special Week sniffled, but a watery laugh broke through as she buried her face against Suzuka’s shoulder. The rest of Spica crowded close, their words overlapping into a warm chorus of reassurance.

Meanwhile, a few steps back, Yasuaki stood with his arms loosely folded, his gaze sharp and unreadable as he watched Special Week through the chaos. His thoughts were quieter, analytical.

Yasuaki’s ( inner thought) : (calm, precise) She’s fast. Very fast. If she keeps her weight under control, she’ll be dangerous — front-runner, clean stride, excellent rhythm. She stumbled today, but… that’s not weakness. That’s just inexperience. Given time, she’ll sharpen into something terrifying. Still… a win is a win. And right now, Halo holds it.

Pervert-senpai, standing beside him with his usual smug grin, let out a heavy sigh .

Pervert-senpai: (snorting) Hmph. I’ll admit it, Yasuaki. My girl lost today. But don’t get comfortable. This won’t happen again. Team Spica’s not going to lose the next race , not to your little patchwork club.

Yasuaki tilted his head lazily, as if unimpressed, but the corner of his mouth tugged just slightly, almost into a smirk.

Yasuaki: (dry, calm) Big talk, considering you just got outrun.

Pervert-senpai bristled, his mouth opening for a retort—but before he could fire back, a familiar, upbeat voice cut in.

Teio: (playful, sharp) Not bad, Yasu . You’ve got one win on your side now… but don’t get cocky. In the next match, Spica’s taking the top again—if no one on your side can beat me , you’ll just fall behind.

Yasuaki: (flat, but amused) Still talking big, huh. Some things never change.

Teio stuck her tongue out at him with a bratty grin.

Rice Shower: (softly, to herself) …They look comfortable together.

King Halo: (whispering, with a faint huff) close friends or not, he should watch how close he leans in public. Hmph.

Meanwhile, Haru Urara bounced between them all, completely oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around her. She grabbed Rice’s hand with one and Halo’s sleeve with the other, her tail swishing so wildly it nearly smacked Yasuaki in the leg.

Haru Urara: (grinning ear to ear) Sensei, Sensei! Did you hear them?! They’re already talking about the next race! That means we’re leveling up too, right? Right?!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, patting her head once) …You never stop, do you.

Haru Urara: (beaming) Nope!

Pervert-senpai groaned dramatically, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the rest of Spica laughed at Urara’s unshakable optimism. Yasuaki let the noise settle for a moment.

Yasuaki: (dry smirk)  let’s make one thing clear before anyone runs off, today’s victory dinner? The buffet’s on you, Senpai.

Pervert-senpai froze mid-step, his face twisting in horror as every pair of ears perked up at once. Even Gold Ship’s grin turned shark-like.

Gold Ship: (roaring with laughter) OOOH, you heard him! Free food on the old man! Jackpot!

Daiwa Scarlet: (grinning smugly) About time you paid up for something useful.

Vodka: (already cracking her knuckles) I’m stacking three plates. Minimum.

Special Week: (sniffling, but brightening) Eh?! R-really? I can eat as much as I want?!

Pervert-senpai: (shouting, panicked) H-Hold on a sec!! That wasn’t part of—!

Silence Suzuka: (smiling softly, eyes sparkling just a little) …A buffet sounds nice.

Pervert-senpai froze mid-protest. The panic in his face melted instantly at Suzuka’s gentle smile, his cheeks tinting faintly red. He scratched the back of his head and let out a long, exaggerated sigh, already defeated.

Pervert-senpai: (muttering, resigned) …Fine, fine. For Suzuka’s sake. But this is highway robbery, I swear…

Gold Ship leaned in with a mischievous grin, whispering far too loudly into Vodka’s ear.

Gold Ship: (grinning) Look at him fold! One smile and he’s toast. Weak. Absolutely weak.

Vodka: (snorting) Pathetic, but useful. His wallet’s our hero tonight.

The group erupted in laughter again, even Daiwa Scarlet cracking a smile despite herself. Meanwhile, Teio had sidled up closer to Yasuaki, her elbow nudging his arm with a knowing smirk.

Tokai Teio: (playful, whispering just to him) You totally planned that. Acting all cool, making my trainer  pay just to lighten the mood. Don’t even try to deny it.

Yasuaki tilted his head slightly toward her, his expression unreadable except for the faint curve tugging at his lips.)

Yasuaki: (dryly) Deny what? I just made an observation. His wallet was the obvious weak point.

Tokai Teio: (giggling, bratty grin) See? You are a schemer.

She skipped ahead to join Spica, leaving Yasuaki with that small smirk still resting on his face. Behind them, Urara was practically bouncing off the walls, pulling Rice along with her while chanting “buffet, buffet!” King Halo walked a half-step behind, her usual proud air intact, but every so often her crimson eyes flicked toward Yasuaki, softer than she’d ever admit. Rice too cast him a glance, thoughtful and quiet.

For a brief moment, as the group spilled out into the night streets buzzing with laughter and chatter, Yasuaki let his gaze linger on them all Spica and Lumina alike. A mismatched collection of dreamers, rivals, and stubborn hearts. He let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck before following them.

Yasuaki: (to himself, half-sarcastic, half-genuine) …What a noisy bunch. Guess this is the kind of chaos I signed up for.

Chapter 6 end 

To be continue 

Chapter Text

Two weeks passed in a blink. The memory of the buffet night faded into the rhythm of daily training, strategy talks, and race preparations.

Urara’s next race had come on a day cursed by rain, the track soaked and heavy, every step kicking up mud. Even so, she had charged forward with her usual grin, tail flicking defiantly as she fought against the wet ground. she’d crossed the line Fourth out of twelve, her best result yet.

By the next morning, Haru Urara was curled up in bed under three layers of blankets, her nose red.

Urara squirms under the blankets, her ears drooping as she tries to sit up. King Halo pushes her gently back down with one hand, adjusting the covers with the other.

Haru Urara: (muffled through the blanket) I’m fine, really! If I stay still any longer, my legs will forget how to run!

King Halo: (stern but soft) You sound like a kettle about to whistle. Stay put. No reckless antics.

Haru Urara: (pouting) But—!

King Halo: (sighs, reaching for her phone) No “but's” I’ll handle it. [she begins typing a message]

[Training Field – Morning]

The field is quiet under a bright blue sky. Yasuaki is standing at the edge of the track with his stopwatch, hands in his pockets. Rice Shower is already stretching near the starting line. His phone buzzes. He checks it, reading King Halo’s message. A faint sigh escapes him.

Yasuaki: (flatly, pocketing his phone) Change of plans. Halo says Urara’s wrapped up in blankets, fighting a cold. No training for her today.

Rice Shower: (straightening, concern flickering in her violet eyes) Urara-chan… she really pushed herself in the rain yesterday. (soft smile) But at least King-chan’s with her. That should keep her from sneaking out.

Yasuaki: (dryly) …Debatable. If I know Urara, she’ll try to “train” by running in circles around her bed.

Rice Shower: (giggles quietly, covering her mouth) That… actually sounds like her.

Yasuaki: (nodding once, more to himself than to her) Which means it’s just us today. So I can finally focus on you.

Rice Shower: (blinks, pausing mid-stretch) …Me?

Yasuaki: (glancing at her, tone calm and matter-of-fact) You handled 1,800 well enough last time, but you told me yourself—longer courses eat away at you. If you ever want to take on 3,000 meters, we need to build your stamina now.

Rice’s violet eyes widen slightly, surprised he remembered. She lowers her arms slowly, her expression softening.)

Rice Shower: (quietly) …You remembered that?

Yasuaki: (shrugs, as if it’s obvious) I remember everything my trainees say. Information’s useless if I don’t act on it.

Rice tilts her head slightly, her bangs shifting, then gives a small nod. She seems touched but tries to hide it.

Rice Shower: …Then what do you have planned?

Yasuaki: Endurance work. Long-interval repeats, steady pace, no sprinting until the end. It’s not about speed, it’s about keeping your form clean for as long as possible.

Rice nods again, but her ears twitch in mild surprise.

Rice Shower: (softly) You’re… gentler than I expected.

Yasuaki: (raises a brow) Gentler?

Rice Shower: (glancing aside, almost shy) You’re always so… tough on Urara-chan. Strict. I thought you’d… be like that with me too.

Yasuaki exhales, rubbing the back of his neck.

Yasuaki: Urara needs a different approach. If I go soft on her, she’ll be distracted halfway through and wander off to pet a stray cat before finishing a lap. You don’t need that kind of push you already know what you’re aiming for.

Rice blinks, then slowly smiles, a soft, understanding smile. Her tail swishes faintly as she processes his words.

Rice Shower: …So you really do tailor your training for us.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, faint smirk) What kind of trainer would I be if I didn’t?

He clicks his stopwatch and points toward the far end of the track.

Yasuaki: All right. First set, six laps, even pace. Focus on breathing, not just speed. I want you to still have enough in the tank to push when I call for a finish.

Rice steps up to the starting line, her face steady but her eyes shining with determination. She glances back at him once, nods, then starts her run.

As she runs, Yasuaki watches silently, his mind focused not only on her form but on her mental state. The field is quiet except for the rhythmic sound of Rice’s strides against the track.

Yasuaki: (muttering to himself) …She’s got better rhythm than she realizes. No wasted motion. If we can stretch her endurance without breaking that form, she could be dangerous in a long-distance race.

Rice nodded silently at Yasuaki’s words, determination flickering in her violet eyes. She adjusted her breathing and started her next set, her stride steady and measured.

The sun arced higher, and the hours slipped by to the rhythm of her pounding hooves. Each lap left her more winded, but her focus never wavered. Yasuaki stood near the track, arms folded, stopwatch in hand, quietly observing like a hawk.

Yasuaki: (calling out) That’s enough for today. Cool down—slow jog, then water. Break time.

Rice slowed to a jog, sweat dripping from her bangs, her chest heaving. She smiled faintly, satisfied with her effort, and started toward Yasuaki. But her legs, heavy from hours of running, betrayed her. She stumbled, her hoof catching in the grass, and pitched forward with a startled gasp.

Rice Shower: (gasping) Ah—!

Yasuaki reacted instantly, stepping forward and catching her before she could hit the ground. The momentum carried both of them down, and they tumbled back together onto the grass. Yasuaki grunted softly as his back hit the ground, one arm wrapping around her instinctively to keep her from hitting her head. For a moment, they were both still—Rice’s face just inches from his chest, her ears twitching in stunned silence.

Rice Shower: (wide-eyed, realizing) …I-I didn’t hit my head…?

She blinked a few times, then slowly sat up, her hands pressing against the grass. Relief washed over her as she realized she wasn’t hurt, but then she froze, eyes darting back to where she had landed. Yasuaki was still half-lying on the ground, one arm slightly scraped from the fall.

Rice Shower: (gasping, panicked) S-sensei! Your arm—! You’re bleeding!

Yasuaki: (sitting up, brushing grass from his hair, tone calm) It’s just a scrape. Relax.

Rice Shower: (frowning, guilt flooding her expression) But… I fell on you…

Yasuaki: (dryly) Better me than the dirt. Trust me, grass doesn’t break your fall nearly as well.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood casually, like it was nothing more than a nuisance. Rice knelt beside him, still looking worried. Her tail twitched as she reached hesitantly toward his arm, then stopped halfway, unsure if she should touch it.

Rice Shower: (quietly) …You didn’t have to catch me like that.

Yasuaki: (snorts softly, checking his sleeve where the scrape bled through) Well, if I don’t, you might’ve hurt yourself and that’s worse than me bleeding a little. (his gaze sharpens, shifting back to her legs) Did you fracture anything? Twist a joint?

Before she can protest, Yasuaki crouches slightly, his expression turning serious, almost clinical. He places a steady hand just above her knee, another at her ankle, gently rotating the joint with practiced care. Rice stiffens at the touch, her ears twitching nervously, but he ignores her flustered reaction, his attention fully on her condition.

Yasuaki: (calm, focused) Tell me if it hurts.

Rice Shower: (voice small, shaking her head) N-no… it doesn’t…

He moves to her other leg, repeating the process with the same measured patience. His fingers press lightly against the muscle, testing for swelling or tension. Rice chews her lip, watching him work, half-embarrassed, half-moved by how little he cares about his own scrape compared to checking her.

Rice Shower: (murmuring) …You’re really not worried about your arm, are you?

Yasuaki: (without looking up) Scrapes don’t decide races. Knees and ankles do. (gives her ankle one last careful twist, then lets go) Good. No fractures, no swelling. You’re lucky.

He finally straightens, brushing grass from his clothes again. Rice sits on the ground, her hands tightening around her knees, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. His words were blunt, but his care was unmistakable. He had treated her less like a delicate flower and more like someone who mattered,an athlete worth protecting.

Rice frowns, her gaze dropping immediately back to his elbow. The scrape is small, but messy blood smeared over his sleeve where he tried to wipe it earlier. Her tail flicks anxiously as she presses her hands together, clearly debating something. Finally, she leans in, cheeks burning red.

Rice Shower: (murmuring, almost to herself) …I read there’s a way to make wounds close faster…

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, suspicious) …Rice. What exactly did you read?

She takes a nervous breath, shuffling closer until her knees nearly touch his. Her eyes squeeze shut, tongue poking out just slightly in concentration as she tilts her head toward his arm. Yasuaki stares blankly for half a second, then his brain catches up, and color shoots up to his face.

Yasuaki: (flustered, pulling his arm back quickly) Oi, oi, oi! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!

Rice freezes, eyes snapping open wide, her whole face red as steam. She fumbles with her hands, tail puffing like a startled cat.

Rice Shower: (stammering) I-I-It’s a real thing! I swear! I read somewhere that… th-that if you… um… lick a wound, the enzymes in your mouth… help… help it heal faster!

Yasuaki just stares at her, his ears practically glowing red. 

Yasuaki:  …You mean to tell me your grand medical plan was to slobber on my elbow like a puppy?

Rice Shower: (hands flying to cover her face) D-don’t say it like that! It sounds weird when you put it that way!

Yasuaki: (pinching the bridge of his nose, muttering) Of course it sounds weird. Because it is weird. Who even gave you that idea?

Rice Shower: (peeking through her fingers, voice small) …A health magazine… and maybe… an old horse-care book…

Yasuaki lets out a long exhale through his nose, the kind of sigh that sounds more tired than angry. He looks at her for a moment—really looks ,and sees her ears pinned flat, her face flushed red, her shoulders trembling like she expects him to scold her. 

Yasuaki: (gently, tone calmer) Rice… listen. Books aren’t bad. Reading isn’t bad. But don’t trust everything you find in print. Some things might be real, sure… but a lot of it depends on the situation.

She lowers her hands just a little, peeking up at him nervously.

Yasuaki: (with a small shrug) And in my case? This— (he flicks his gaze at his scraped elbow) —is minor. Barely worth worrying about. Nothing that needs old wives’ tales.

Rice Shower: (hesitant) …But I just… wanted to help.

Yasuaki studies her for a second, then chuckles softly under his breath. He reaches out and pats her head lightly, ruffling her bangs just enough to make her squeak.

Yasuaki: (tone lighter, with a small smile) I know. That’s why I’m not angry. You’re always thinking about others. Even when you’re embarrassed out of your mind, it means helping someone else. That’s not a bad thing, Rice.

Her eyes widen a little, shimmering faintly, before she quickly ducks her head to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. He withdraws his hand and straightens up.

Yasuaki: (casual, almost teasing) C’mon. Time for lunch. Eat, drink, rest—then we’ll get back to training. You’ll need every bit of energy if you want to continue training.

Rice makes a tiny sound—half squeak, half protest, before scrambling to her feet. She clutches her hands over her head like she’s trying to contain all the heat in her face, tail puffing slightly as she spins on her heel.

Rice Shower: (flustered, voice rising) E-excuse me for a moment!!

Before Yasuaki can say anything, she quickly grabs her water bottle and jogs off toward the cafeteria building, clearly too embarrassed to stay near him. Yasuaki watches her retreat with a quiet sigh, then shakes his head and sits down to eat alone. He figures she’ll cool off and return when she’s ready. And sure enough, when they resume training later, Rice acts as if nothing had happened—still polite, still focused, just a bit more careful not to trip again. The rest of the day continues quietly, almost peacefully, until evening falls and training wraps up without incident.

──────────

(A Few Days Later)

The midday sun is shining over the campus when Yasuaki is seen leaning against the railing outside the training field, notebook in one hand, scanning through the notes he’s taken on Rice’s times. His hair is a little messy,looking for all the world like he has no urgent business, until hurried footsteps approach.

Tazuna: (calling from across the path) Ah! Yasuaki kun! There you are,I’ve been looking all over!

Yasuaki glances up from his notes, one eyebrow lifting. He doesn’t straighten right away, just closes the notebook with a soft snap and waits for her to catch up.

Yasuaki: (dryly) That sounded urgent. What did I do this time?

Tazuna: (shaking her head) Not you—well, not exactly. It’s your little sister. She’s waiting for you in her office.

Yasuaki: (pausing mid-motion) …Yayoi?

Tazuna: (nodding) Mm-hm. And from the look on her face, I’d say she’s not here to drop off cookies.

Yasuaki exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging just a fraction. He tucks the notebook under his arm, muttering under his breath as if bracing himself for what’s to come.

Yasuaki: (half to himself) Great. Exactly what I needed—another lecture.

Tazuna: (teasing, smiling) Well, if it’s any consolation, she didn’t look angry… just very determined.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) That’s worse.

He finally pushes himself off the railing, lazily waving a hand toward the training field as he turns toward the main building.

Yasuaki:  Guess I can’t avoid this one.

As Yasuaki approaches the office, he pushes open the door with one hand before going inside with his usual smooth, almost languid stride.  Yayoi is already sitting at her desk, papers neatly stacked and her pen resting on them like a judge's gavel.  Her piercing eyes elevate to him as he enters.

Yasuaki: (dry, almost defensive) Before you start,I’ve been productive. Training, planning, not slacking. For once, I’ve been doing the job instead of hiding from it.

Yayoi: (arching an eyebrow, unimpressed) That’s not the case, oni- chan.

Yasuaki exhales through his nose, finally stepping in and dropping onto the couch with a shrug. He rests his elbow against the armrest, propping his cheek against his hand, waiting for her to continue. She studies him for a long moment before speaking again, her voice carrying a sharper edge.

Yayoi: Tell me, onichan  have you heard of a Uma named Narita Taishin?

Yasuaki’s eyes narrow slightly. The name hits his memory instantly. He straightens just a bit, his tone losing its usual dryness as he recalls.

Yasuaki: …Narita Taishin. Of course I’ve heard of her. Small frame, but explosive stride, fast enough to blow past bigger opponents. The girl who tore through the Satsuki Shō like it was nothing. I wouldn’t forget a run like that.

His gaze sharpens, studying his sister now.

Yasuaki: What about her?

Yayoi doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she pulls open a drawer, takes out a single cream-colored envelope, and sets it gently on the desk in front of her. The weight in her movement says enough. Yasuaki’s eyes narrow further; he knows that envelope. Every trainer does. A chill runs through him as he leans forward slowly, his lazy mask slipping into something tense.

Yasuaki: …That’s a retirement envelope.

Yayoi: She came in herself. Said she was turning this in after class… and slipped this envelope right alongside it. Just like that. No hesitation, no explanation.

She taps the envelope, her voice growing sharper with worry.

Yayoi: Oni-chan, she just recovered from a leg injury. Everyone saw how hard she worked to get back on track, and then suddenly she’s retiring? It doesn’t add up.

Yasuaki leans back into the couch, crossing his arms, exhaling through his nose like he’s trying to process it all. His tone is dry, but his eyes flicker with concern.

Yasuaki: I thought trainers weren’t supposed to meddle with decisions like this. It’s their choice, their race, their career. We step in, and it looks like interference.

Yayoi slams her palm lightly against the desk, her spirited energy breaking through her serious tone. She leans forward, eyes fiery.

Yayoi: And what am I supposed to do then , just sit here and watch one of our brightest talents walk away without even asking why?! I care about these girls, oni- chan. All of them. And you— (pointing at him firmly) you’re sharper than me at seeing through things like this. If anyone can get to the bottom of it, it’s you.

Yasuaki lets out a slow sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at the envelope again, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He doesn’t argue, he can tell by her tone she won’t let this go.

Yasuaki: (grumbling) …You always drag me into messes like this.

Yayoi: (smiling faintly despite the tension) Because you always find answers. Even if you pretend you don’t want to.

For a long moment, silence lingers in the office. Yasuaki finally exhales, pushing himself up from the couch. He lifts a hand in a lazy wave toward his younger sister as he heads for the door.

Yasuaki: Fine. I’ll see what I can dig up. Leave it to your oldest brother.

Yayoi watches him go, her eyes softening despite the worry that still weighs on her.

──────────

(Courtyard, later that afternoon.)

Yasuaki slumps on a bench, one leg crossed over the other, his chin resting in his hand. He exhales a long sigh, the kind that carries frustration more than fatigue.

Yasuaki: (muttering) …All that talk about being confident, sharp, reliable… and I can’t even track down one girl in the whole academy. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Brother of the year.

He tips his head back, staring at the sky as though it owes him answers. The distant chatter of students floats by, but something else catches his ear , a singsong voice from one of the open rooms nearby.

Voice: Ooooh, the winds of luck are shifting today! Yes, yes, yes! Fortunes will guide the way!

Curiosity, or perhaps boredom, gets the better of him.  Yasuaki rises and follows the sound to a small room at the courtyard's edge.  Pushing open a sliding door, he discovers a small chamber filled with good luck charms, ofuda, daruma dolls, and even a big beckoning cat.  Matikanefukukitaru sits cross-legged in the centre, holding a sparkling crystal ball.  She brightens as soon as she notices him, her golden eyes shining almost as brightly as the jewels around her.

Matikanefukukitaru: (excitedly) Ah! A visitor! And not just any visitor—the aura around you is heavy, very heavy. You must be carrying the weight of fate itself!

Yasuaki blinks once, deadpan, before stepping inside. He shuts the door quietly behind him, his tone dry as ever.

Yasuaki: (flat) …Or maybe I’m just carrying the weight of being lost.

Fukukitaru: (gasps dramatically, hands to her cheeks) Lost?! No, no, no! That won’t do at all! But don’t worry, Fuku-chan will guide you! With the power of destiny, fortune, and maybe a little bit of… luck!

She grabs a handful of talismans and shakes them in front of him enthusiastically. Yasuaki leans back slightly, clearly regretting stepping in, but doesn’t leave. Instead, he lowers himself onto the cushion across from her with a faint sigh.

Yasuaki: (muttering) …I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Fukukitaru: (bright grin) Believe it! Destiny led you here! Now—tell me, traveler of fate, what weighs on your heart? Love? Exams? Or perhaps… a rival standing in your way?!

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, voice flat) …None of the above. I’m looking for someone. Narita Taishin.You seen her around?

Fuku freezes dramatically, clutching her cards close like she just heard the secret of the universe. Her eyes widen in mock horror, then sparkle with intrigue.

Fukukitaru: (gasping) Ohhh! You seek Narita Taishin?! Her name trembles in the air with fate! Yes, yes, yes, this is destiny’s work!

She spins on her heel, clutching the ball close to her chest, then sets it carefully on the velvet cloth before her. She wiggles her fingers above it, eyes glowing with exaggerated intensity.

Fukukitaru: Crystal of destiny, reveal to me her path! Show me where the storm child lingers!

Inside the orb, a faint shimmer flickers from the way the light catches. Fuku gasps like she’s just seen the divine truth. She slams her palm onto the table, leaning close to Yasuaki, golden eyes blazing with excitement.

Fukukitaru: (dramatic) There! A vision! I distinctively saw a vision , at  the north side of the academy grounds… by… a vending machine!

Yasuaki blinks once. Slowly. Then lets out a long sigh, rubbing his temple as if the sheer absurdity might give him a headache.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) …A vending machine. That’s your big cosmic revelation?

Fukukitaru: (offended gasp, pointing at him) H-how dare you mock fate’s guidance! Do not underestimate the vending machine! Countless destinies cross there,snacks, drinks, courage in a can!

Yasuaki: (muttering) More like caffeine and cavities.

Fukukitaru: (wagging her finger proudly) Aha, but destiny hides in the ordinary! The more mundane the place, the more powerful the sign! If the fates say vending machine, then vending machine it is!

Yasuaki leans back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. His logical side screams this is nonsense. But… Narita Taishin is the type to avoid crowds, to linger in forgotten corners. The north side vending machine was hardly used—half-hidden behind the gym. He lowers his gaze, giving Fuku a long, unimpressed look.

Yasuaki: (dry, but softer) …If you’re wrong, you’re buying me a coffee.

Fukukitaru: (grinning wide, flashing a peace sign) Deal! But when I’m right, you owe me three charms and a  another fortune reading session!

Yasuaki: (standing, muttering) …This is starting to feel like extortion.

He slides the door wide, the afternoon light flooding, and goes to where she directed him to.

──────────

(North-side vending machine – Tracen Academy grounds)

Yasuaki slowed his steps as he rounded the corner, the hum of the old vending machine filling the silence. The spot was empty, just as he expected. He let out a small exhale, rubbing the back of his neck.

Yasuaki: (muttering to himself) …Figures. Should’ve known better than to put stock in fortune-telling. Guess even fortune tellers don’t hand out answers.

He turned on his heel, ready to leave, when the sharp sound of footsteps clicked against the pavement. From the opposite corner, a slender figure appeared short auburn hair catching the light, piercing blue eyes meeting his. Yasuaki froze, his gaze narrowing slightly. It was her. Narita Taishin.

She stopped too, ears twitching, gaze flicking over him suspiciously. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Yasuaki slid his hands into his pockets, his voice calm, steady, carrying just enough authority to break the silence.

Yasuaki: …Narita Taishin, right?

Narita: (cool, blunt) Who’s asking?

Her tone was clipped, defensive. She shifted her weight, ready to walk past him. Yasuaki tilted his head, unfazed.

Yasuaki: Akikawa Yasuaki. Trainer. Some call me lazy, some call me sharp. Depends on who you ask.

Narita paused mid-step, her eyes narrowing. The name rang a bell,  even she’d heard the whispers. The “sleepwalking strategist,” the former prodigy director who’d graduated ridiculously young but earned a reputation for being… well, lazy. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

Narita: (flat) …So what’s a so-called “lazy trainer” doing here? Looking for a soda?

Yasuaki: (dryly) Tempting. But no. I’m looking for you.

Her ears twitched sharply. She frowned, crossing her arms as if to build a wall between them.

Narita: (defensive) Tch. Figures. Word spreads too fast around here. Did the director send you?

Yasuaki: (sighing, brushing at his sleeve) You could say that. But don’t get the wrong idea—I’m not here to drag you anywhere. I just wanted to talk.

Narita’s gaze flickered away, her jaw tight. For a moment, she looked like she might bolt. But something in his tone—calm, not pushy, not pitying—kept her rooted. She tilted her chin, voice sharp.

Narita: …Talk, huh? Trainers always say that. And then they just start lecturing.

Yasuaki: (shrugging) Then let me be the exception. I’m not here to lecture. I just want to know why. Why the retirement envelope.

Her eyes widened for just a second, before narrowing again. She clenched her fists at her sides, her voice biting.

Narita: …That’s none of your business.

Yasuaki: (meeting her glare evenly) Maybe. But my sister’s the one it landed on. Which makes it my business now.

The silence between them grew heavier, charged. Narita looked away first, her expression twisting between frustration and something more fragile.

The silence stretched. Narita’s ears twitched, her lips pressed tight. For a long moment, she didn’t answer. Yasuaki didn’t push—just stood there, steady, giving her space. Finally, with a sharp exhale, she let the words tumble out, raw and jagged, like glass cutting her throat on the way out.

Narita: (bitterly) …You want the truth? Fine. I’ll give it to you.

She looked straight at him then, blue eyes hard but trembling at the edges. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

Narita: I got hurt. A bad leg. You probably heard the whispers—“she’ll bounce back, she’s too stubborn not to.” And I did come back. I trained. I pushed. I fought through the pain like I always do. And when I finally stood on the turf again… I finished dead last.

Her voice cracked. Just barely. But she bit down on it, forcing her chin higher, trying to armor herself with pride. Yasuaki stayed quiet, watching her every flicker.

Narita: Do you know what it’s like to hear silence from the stands? Not cheers. Not even boos. Just… nothing. Like they already decided you’re done before you even crossed the line. That silence—(her fists trembled)—it was louder than any shout.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, but the words didn’t stop.

Narita: That’s when I knew. I’m washed up. I can’t run like before. And I won’t crawl around the track, pretending I belong there, waiting for pity applause. I’d rather walk away now. With my head high. Before I become pathetic.

Yasuaki: (narrowing his eyes, leaning forward slightly) So you decide to give up entirely. All of it. The Cups , twinkle series and even the Dream Series?! … everything you fought for. What are you going to do now, when your career’s over? Wait for your life to end too?You’d throw them all away because of one race?

Narita Taishin: (snapping) It wasn’t one race! It was the proof that I’ll never get back to who I was! My body won’t let me. My legs won’t let me. I don’t want pity claps and whispers about “what a shame she used to be.”

Yasuaki: (gritting his teeth, his voice cutting through her bitterness) And what will you do then? Just fade away? Watch the others keep running while you rot in the stand ? Uma Musume is born to run. You can’t just cut it out of yourself because you’re scared of failing again.

Narita Taishin: (turning her back, her tone cold) Maybe I’m not scared. Maybe I’ve accepted reality faster than you. At least I know when to stop lying to myself.

Yasuaki: No—you’re lying right now! If you truly accepted it, you wouldn’t sound this bitter. You wouldn’t glare like the whole world betrayed you. You’d sound at peace. But you don’t. You sound like someone who still wants to run, but is too damn stubborn to admit it.

Narita Taishin: (whipping her head toward him, eyes blazing, then quickly looking away) …You talk too much.

She takes a step, then another, her back rigid, every movement screaming defiance.

Narita Taishin: (pausing briefly, without looking back) Don’t follow me, Akikawa. If you do, I’ll kick you so hard you’ll never sit on that lazy couch of yours again.

Yasuaki stays rooted, fists clenched, cursing under his breath.

Yasuaki: (muttering to himself) …Damn it.

She walks away, her figure swallowed by the shadows of the courtyard. Yasuaki exhales sharply.

──────────

Yasuaki stood in the courtyard long after Narita’s figure had disappeared into the evening shadows. His jaw was set, but his hands finally loosened at his sides. A long exhale slipped past his lips, quieter than the wind rustling through the trees.

Yasuaki: (thinking) …If she’s that stubborn, if she really thinks there’s no hope for herself… then prying will only make her dig her heels in deeper. I don’t want to make things messier than they already are.

He pushed himself off the bench, shoulders heavy, and began walking toward Yayoi’s office. The late sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the stone path. Just as he turned a corner, he nearly stopped in his tracks two figures stood there, their presence unmistakable even from a distance.

One had a sharp, analytical air, her silver hair catching the dying light like a blade—Biwa Hayahide,.

the calm, cerebral runner. Beside her stood a darker, brooding figure with fire smoldering in her eyes, Winning Ticket

Both were silent, but the tension in their posture said enough. They’d heard.

Winning Ticket: (low, frustrated) …So it’s true then. Taishin’s quitting.

Biwa Hayahide: (adjusting her glasses, tone calm but heavy) The rumors reached us just now. To think she would hand in a retirement slip so soon…

Yasuaki’s gaze flicked between the two, his expression unreadable, but his silence confirmed what they already feared.

Winning Ticket: (clenching her fist) Damn it. She’s tougher than anyone I know—how could she just give up?!

Biwa Hayahide: (softly, but sharp) It’s not about toughness. It’s about despair. And if Taishin truly believes she has no place left on the track… (she exhales, eyes narrowing) …then it’s not something brute force will fix.

Yasuaki: (clearing his throat lightly, stepping closer) …Sorry to eavesdrop. But if you two know her that well… maybe I should hear it too.

Winning Ticket turned sharply, eyes narrowing, before softening with recognition.

Winning Ticket: (blinking) …You’re Akikawa, right? The so-called “lazy genius” trainer everyone whispers about?

Biwa Hayahide: (adjusting her  glasses, studying him with a cool gaze) Former director’s son. I’ve heard of you. You’re the one poking around Taishin’s situation, aren’t you?

Yasuaki: (hands in his pockets, shrugging faintly) Guilty. She shoved me off without answers, but… I’m not giving up just yet. If she’s your rival, then maybe you can tell me what was she like before? What’s the part I’m not seeing?

There’s a moment of silence. Winning Ticket’s eyes flick down, her fist loosening. Biwa glances at him, then sighs softly before speaking.

Biwa Hayahide: (measured, almost teacher-like) Taishin… was fire. Short-tempered, stubborn, but every ounce of her pride burned on the track. She hated being looked down on—hated it. Every race was a battle to prove she wasn’t “small” or “fragile.” That drive… it’s what pulled BNW together as rivals.

Winning Ticket: (gritting his teeth, cutting in) And she could run. Fast. Sharp. Like she was carving holes in the wind itself. Every time we lined up, I knew she’d be the one breathing down my neck. That’s who she was someone who forced you to run harder just to keep up.

Yasuaki listened intently, his usual lazy eyes sharpened as the pieces clicked in his head. His mind played back Narita’s cold, clipped words earlier—“I won’t crawl around the track, pretending I belong there.”

Yasuaki: (flat, but thoughtful) If that’s the case, then pity’s poison to her. She won’t take comfort, won’t take sympathy. What she needs… is proof. Proof she can still run without losing herself.

Winning Ticket: (snapping, frustrated) And how the hell do you give her that when she won’t even stand on the track anymore?!

Biwa Hayahide: (firm, calm) …By finding a reason she can’t ignore. Something that cuts through that wall of pride.

Yasuaki, let out a quiet sigh and finally stepped forward. Both Winning Ticket and Biwa turned toward him, narrowing their eyes, but recognition softened their posture.

Yasuaki: (flat, but thoughtful) If that’s the case, then pity’s poison to her. She won’t take comfort, won’t take sympathy. What she needs… is proof. Proof she can still run without losing herself.

Winning Ticket: (scowling) …And how do you know that?

Yasuaki: (flat, meeting her eyes) Because she told me herself. Not in words , but in how she looked at me. Bitter, angry, furious at the world… but not broken. That kind of anger doesn’t come from someone who’s given up. It comes from someone who still wants to fight but is afraid to lose.

Biwa Hayahide: (narrowing her eyes, thoughtful) …So you’re saying what she needs is not sympathy, but a mirror. A chance to see herself as the fighter she once was.

Yasuaki: (nodding faintly) Exactly. But the problem is… (he exhales, shoulders slumping slightly) …I don’t know what that mirror looks like yet. No strategy, no clever plan, no clue. Just fragments.

Winning Ticket: (snapping) Then what’s the point of all this talk?! If you’ve got nothing, then you’re wasting time while she slips further away!

Yasuaki: (steady, raising a hand slightly) I didn’t say I was giving up. I don’t know the “how” yet, but I’ll find it. One way or another, I’ll put something in front of her that she can’t walk away from.

Biwa Hayahide: (studying him, measured) …Those are big words. Conviction without a plan is just noise.

Yasuaki: (flat, but firm) Maybe. But conviction’s the only thing I’ve got right now. And if it’s enough to keep me standing in front of her until she listens… then it’s worth holding onto.

There’s a long silence. Winning Ticket clenches her fists, her frustration still sharp, but Biwa tilts her head slightly, her expression softening.

Winning Ticket: (gritting her teeth) …Fine. But if you’re wrong, if you push her the wrong way, she’ll never forgive you.

Yasuaki: (turning away, hands in his pockets) Then I’ll carry that weight. I’m used to it.

He starts to walk off, giving them only a casual wave behind his back.

Yasuaki: (without looking back) Just… don’t give up on her yourselves. If I can’t convince her, then maybe one of you will. But I’ll make the first move.

──────────

[Later – At Sunset]

The sky is awash in gold and crimson as Yasuaki stands at the edge of the courtyard, staring at the horizon. His hands rest loosely in his pockets, his usual lazy mask nowhere to be seen. His lips press into a thin line, his brow furrowed just slightly.

He mutters under his breath.

Yasuaki: (thinking) …Proof. Something undeniable. But what the hell does proof look like for someone like her?

A soft, familiar hum drifts across the breeze—light, playful. 

???: hachimi~hachimi♬♪

Tokai Teio rounds the path, her gait casual, her tail swishing in time with her humming. She spots him immediately, and the hum falters.

Teio: (concerned) Yasu…?

She jogs up, tilting her head, studying his expression.

Teio: (softly) You look like you’re about to pick a fight with the sunset. What’s wrong?

Yasuaki blinks, then exhales, forcing a small chuckle.

Yasuaki: (dryly) …Just arguing with myself. The sun’s winning.

Teio: (pouting lightly, hands on hips) Don’t dodge me. I know that look—you’ve got something heavy sitting on your mind. Spill it.

Yasuaki glances at her, his expression wavering between deflection and honesty. For once, he doesn’t shrug it off completely. He opens his mouth—

—only for Teio’s ears to twitch sharply. She gasps, spinning on her heel with sudden urgency.

Teio: (gasping) Oh no—the honey lemon truck!

Yasuaki: (blinking, caught off guard) …The what?

Before he can get another word in, she grabs his wrist with both hands and tugs.

Teio: (grinning) C’mon, Yasu! If we don’t go now, they’ll pack up and leave and then we’ll both regret it forever!

Yasuaki: (flatly, even as he’s dragged forward) I never agreed to regret anything—whoa—

Teio takes off running, practically yanking him along like a kite caught in the wind. His feet nearly leave the ground as he stumbles forward, barely keeping pace.

They round the corner, Teio’s energy pulling them like a comet’s tail until the small honey lemon truck comes into view, lights twinkling against the dimming sky.

Teio: (cheerfully) Yes! Made it!

She skids to a stop so suddenly that Yasuaki nearly crashes into her.

Yasuaki: (catching his balance, muttering) You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.

Teio just laughs and waves at the vendor with her usual bright grin.

Teio: Two cups, please! One extra honey, one regular!

Vendor: (chuckling as he starts pouring) You’ve got good timing—was just about to close.

Teio: (beaming proudly, bouncing slightly on her heels, flashing a peace sign) See, Yasu? Perfect timing.

She snatches both cups with practiced speed before Yasuaki can reach for his. Turning with a triumphant grin, she extends one toward him.

Teio: (cheerfully) Here! Extra honey for you—my treat!

Yasuaki: (raising a brow as he accepts it) …Didn’t know you were in the habit of bribing people with sugar water.

Teio: (mock offense) Hey! It’s not bribery—it’s care. Childhood-friend premium service. Besides, you look like you needed this more than me.

Yasuaki: (deadpan, lifting the cup slightly) …Hydration therapy, courtesy of Teio.

Teio: (laughing, nudging him lightly with her shoulder) Exactly! Don’t pretend you’re not secretly grateful.

Yasuaki takes a slow sip. The honey lemon is warm, tangy-sweet, and it lingers on his tongue longer than he expected. He glances at her from the corner of his eye, she’s already sipping hers, cheeks puffed slightly from the heat, humming as if the drink itself is a reward for winning some secret race.

Teio: (glancing at him, softer now) …You know, Yasu. If something’s on your mind… we don’t have to stand here like statues.

Yasuaki: (quirking a brow) …Oh?

Teio: (smiling, swinging her tail) Let’s walk it off. The park’s right there, quiet, breezy,  Perfect for spilling whatever gloomy thoughts you’re keeping locked up.

[ At the park] 

The two of them stroll beneath the park’s canopy, the last strands of sunset stretching long and golden across the path. The air is cooler here, carrying the faint scent of grass and the soft chorus of evening cicadas.

Teio has already finished half her drink, straw slurping noisily as she tips the cup back with exaggerated satisfaction.

Teio: (pulling away from the straw)Pwaaah~! Nothing beats honey lemon after a sprint. So good!

Yasuaki: (glancing at her, sipping his more slowly) …Do you always have to narrate your own drinking?

Teio: (grinning, tail flicking) Of course! The refreshing sound effect makes it taste better. You should try it—drink, then go “pwaaah~!” like this!

Yasuaki: (deadpan) …I’ll pass. I’d rather not sound like a broken kettle.

Teio: (pouting, nudging his arm) Boo. You’re no fun.

They keep walking, Teio happily swinging her cup as if she’s marching to her own beat, while Yasuaki’s sips are measured and slow, his gaze occasionally drifting to the trees or the pond reflecting the evening sky. After a stretch of silence, Teio slows her steps, her voice softening.

Teio: (curious, tilting her head) …So? What’s bothering you, Yasu? You were going to say something earlier before I heroically rescued us with drinks.

Yasuaki doesn’t answer right away. He takes one more sip, then lowers his cup, eyes fixed on the rippling pond ahead. His tone is quieter than usual, almost hesitant.

Yasuaki: …Teio. How would you cope if… the crowd stopped cheering for you? If you came in last—again and again—or if you fell down so hard the only sound left in the stands was silence?

Teio blinks, caught off guard. She shifts her weight, ears twitching as she studies his expression.

Teio: (gentle but steady) …That’s a heavy “what if.”

Yasuaki: (flat, almost muttering) Maybe. But it’s real for someone I know. She’s convinced silence means the end. No more place for her on the track.

Teio stops walking, placing her hands on her hips as if bracing herself.

Teio: (firm, confident) Then I’d tell her she’s wrong. Dead wrong.

Yasuaki finally turns his head toward her, one brow arched in faint curiosity.

Yasuaki: …You say that like it’s easy.

Teio: (bright grin returning) Because it is! Yasu, cheers are nice—they make your heart flutter, your legs lighter. But they’re not everything. Even if the stands went quiet… I’d still hear something louder.

Yasuaki: (flatly, almost challenging) If the position were the opposite, I wonder if you’d say the same thing. After all, it’s never happened to you before.

The words hang heavy in the air. Teio freezes mid-step, her smile faltering. Her tail, once wagging cheerfully, stills behind her. She tilts her head, her gaze sharpening as if his words had cut deeper than he meant.

Teio: (soft at first, then firm) …You’re right. It hasn’t happened to me. Not like that.

She crosses her arms, looking away toward the pond, her voice steady but with an edge.

Teio: (continuing) But that doesn’t make what I said wrong. I’m still a Uma Musume. I still run, even when I fall, even when I lose. And I’ll keep doing it, whether the crowd’s loud or silent.

Her words are sharp, but not cruel. More like a reminder, grounding him in reality. Yasuaki exhales slowly, his gaze sinking to the rippling water. For a moment, neither speaks, the sound of cicadas filling the silence.

Then, like a spark catching, his eyes widen slightly.

Yasuaki: (thinking, murmuring aloud) …Fall, lose, silence in the stands… someone who’s lived that, over and over…

His mind clicks. He straightens, turning sharply on his heel, realization flashing through him.

Yasuaki: (half to himself) Of course. If anyone knows how to face the track regardless  of cheers… it’s her. 

Teio blinks, caught off guard, as Yasuaki suddenly thrusts his empty cup into her hands and starts jogging down the path.

Teio: (confused) Eh—? W-wait, what are you—?

Yasuaki: (calling back, running faster) …I’ll convince her. I’ll find the proof Taishin needs. Thanks for the help, Teio—!

The words tumble out unpolished, his composure slipping in his rush.

Yasuaki: (unconsciously, almost shouting as he runs) …I love you!...teio

Teio freezes in place, eyes wide, his words echoing after him. For a beat, she doesn’t move then her hands go slack. The paper cup slips from her fingers, tumbling to the path with a soft thud, honey lemon splattering across the ground.

Teio: (flustered, cheeks blazing red, stomping her foot) Y-Yasuaki, you idiot!!

Her voice rings through the park, half outrage, half something she can’t name. She presses her hands to her face, tail puffing wildly as she tries to process what just slipped out of his mouth.

Chapter 7 end 

To be continue 

Chapter Text

[Next Day - Club Room]

The club room is bright with morning sunlight spilling across the long table. Urara is seated at the center, swinging her legs happily and munching on a carrot stick she brought in, her ears perked like she's waiting for storytime. King Halo sits across from her, arms crossed, posture impeccable as always. Rice Shower is beside her, hands folded politely in her lap.

Yasuaki stands at the head of the table, a chalkboard behind him with a few simple doodles drawn in thick, bold lines.

Yasuaki: (tapping the chalkboard with the pointer) All right, listen up. Today's subject: Taishin's Heart.

On the board, he's drawn a cartoonish stick figure with her ears labeled "Taishin," a giant teardrop next to it, and a speech bubble with a big "..." inside. Next to that is a crowd of stick figures with little "X" marks over their mouths.

Urara: (tilting her head, chomping her carrot) Ooooh, is this a picture book lesson? I love those!

Yasuaki: (flat, but deliberate) Exactly. Picture book rules. Taishin's sad because-(points at the doodle) -no cheers. Silence. And silence hurts more than booing.

Urara: (ears twitching, eyes wide) Ehh?! But... even silence makes sound if you listen really hard! Like "shhhhh~!"

Yasuaki: (sighing, rubbing his temple) ...Close enough.

King Halo: (frowning, leaning forward) Hold on. Why are you explaining this to her like she's five? Urara's not a toddler-she's a teenager!

Rice Shower: (softly, nodding) ...I-I agree. Isn't this... a little much?

Yasuaki: (deadpan, pointing the chalk at Urara) Because her attention span is about the same as a preschooler's. If I don't make it simple, she'll wander off halfway through to chase butterflies.

Urara: (raising her hand enthusiastically) Oh! Speaking of butterflies, did you know I saw a super pretty one outside the window this morning? It was purple and shiny and-

Yasuaki: (snapping his fingers sharply) Urara. Focus.

Urara: (straightening immediately, giggling) Right, right! Focus! Taishin sad, no cheers!

King Halo pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling deeply.

King Halo: (muttering) Unbelievable...

Rice Shower: (hesitant, glancing at Yasuaki) ...But, sensei, is this really how you plan to... help Taishin-san?

He folds his arms, expression more serious now.

Yasuaki: (continuing) Out of everyone here, Urara knows what it's like to lose. To keep running, even when the stands go quiet. That's the perspective Taishin needs to see. If Urara can explain her heart... it might get through to her.

Urara blinks, nibbling her carrot thoughtfully.

Urara: (brightly) So you want me to be her cheerleader, even if no one else is?

Yasuaki: (flat, careful) ...It might not convince her to go back to racing. I know that. But you're my last resort. Fighting logic with Narita is a waste, she'll always counter it. But you? You can't be countered. Because you live it. (pausing, softer) I'm not forcing you, Urara. I'm asking.Would you help me with this?

Urara swings her legs faster, thinking as if this were the toughest math problem of her life. Then she leans forward, grinning, crumbs of carrot at the corner of her mouth.

Urara: (pumping her fist) Of course I'll do it! If someone's sad, I'll just run beside them until they smile again. That's my specialty!

King Halo: (snapping, reaching over with a tissue) At least wipe your mouth before announcing your "specialty," honestly...

She fusses over Urara, dabbing at the carrot crumbs like a stern mother. Urara squeaks and waves her arms.

Urara: (muffled) King-chan, I'm fine! I'm clean, see?

King Halo: (huffing, tail flicking) Shiny is not the same as clean. You'll never be taken seriously if you present yourself like this...

Yasuaki watches the exchange, lips twitching in the faintest smirk.

Yasuaki: (dryly) You sound more like her mother than her roommate.

King Halo: (blushing faintly, clearing her throat) S-someone has to make sure she doesn't live on carrots and chaos alone.

Rice Shower: (softly, smiling) ...You're good for each other. Urara-chan always looks... brighter when you're with her.

Urara: (blinking, ears perking) Ehh? What do you mean, Rice!?

Before Rice can explain, Urara loops her arms around both of them, pulling King and Rice close against her sides.

Urara: (beaming) Because Urara's always bright when she's with her friends! With King-chan, with Rice-chan... and with Yasuaki-sensei too!

King Halo stiffens slightly at the sudden closeness, cheeks coloring again, while Rice squeaks softly, flustered but not pulling away.

King Halo: (muttering, flustered)H-honestly, you're far too forward sometimes...

Rice Shower: (tiny voice, face pink) ...I-I suppose... being together does make things brighter...

Urara giggles, hugging them tighter for a moment before letting go, bouncing back to her seat with a grin.

Yasuaki: (watching, arms folded) ...That's good and all. Friendship power and sunshine smiles. But there's still one problem, how do we even find Narita if she keeps hiding in secluded places?

The room quiets for a second. Then King Halo lets out a light "hoho" chuckle, lifting her chin elegantly, as if already prepared.

King Halo: (smirking confidently) Leave that part to me. A lady of my caliber has eyes and ears everywhere. If Taishin is lurking in the shadows, I'll contribute to the search myself.

Rice Shower: (sitting up straighter, nodding firmly despite her shyness) ...Then I'll help too. I can't sit back while everyone else tries. If there's a chance I can support her, even a little... I want to.

Urara jumps up, fists pumping in the air.

Haru Urara: (cheerfully) Yay! A search party! Like hide-and-seek, but with Taishin!

King Halo: (pinching the bridge of her nose) ...Please don't phrase it like that.

Yasuaki: (clearing his throat) All right, enough noise. If we're doing this, we do it properly. We split up. Cover more ground, less chance she slips past us.

He glances at each of them, expression calm but purposeful.

Yasuaki: King, you've got the sharpest eye for detail. You take the central plaza, the busiest place. If she passes through, you'll notice.

King Halo: (straightening proudly) Hoho... understood. Leave it to me.

Yasuaki: Rice, Check the library wing and the gardens. Places where someone might want silence.

Rice Shower: (nodding firmly, though her voice is small) ...Y-yes. I'll search carefully.

Urara bounces on her heels, waving her arm in the air like a child in class.

Haru Urara: What about me, what about me?! Where do I go, sensei?!

Yasuaki lets out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.

Yasuaki: (flat) ...You're with me.

Haru Urara: (gasping dramatically, pointing at herself) With you?!

Yasuaki: (opening one eye, giving her a steady look) If I stumble onto Narita, I'll need you there. You're the one she needs to hear from most, and I can't risk you wandering off halfway.

Haru Urara: (saluting enthusiastically) Aye aye, Captain! I won't let you down!

She hops to his side immediately, clinging to his sleeve with a bright grin. King Halo watches the scene.

King Halo: (muttering under her breath) ...Honestly. Spoiling her like that.

Rice Shower: (glancing at King, whispering softly) ...But he's right. Urara-chan's words might be the only ones Taishin can't push away.

King exhales, crossing her arms with a huff, but she doesn't argue.

Yasuaki: (nodding once) Good. Then we move. Text me the moment you see her, don't try to corner her alone.

They break from the club room like a small team on a mission. The next few hours turn into a slow, thorough search of the campus.

──────────

[Late Morning - Central Plaza]

King Halo strides through the plaza with her usual elegance, her sharp eyes scanning the flow of students. Her phone buzzes, an incoming group chat message.

[ Rice Shower: (11:12 AM) Library garden = clear. No sign of Taishin-san.]

[King Halo: (11:14 AM) Plaza also clear. I will widen search to dormitory halls.]

King types briskly, then tucks her phone away, setting her sights on the next area with determination.

Yasuaki walks at a steady pace, hands in his pockets, while Urara hops alongside him like she's trying to match his long stride.

Urara: (cheerfully) Where are we going now, sensei? Cafeteria? Courtyard? Or maybe the gym?

Yasuaki: (mildly) All of the above. You still good to keep walking?

Urara: (grinning, giving a double thumbs up) Yep! I've got tons of energy left!

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) Somehow I'm not surprised.

They poke their heads into the cafeteria, peek behind the vending machines, and even check the back stairwell near the gym. Each time, no sign of Narita. Urara sends a quick message into the group chat.

[Haru Urara: (12:05 PM) Nope, not here either! Found a cat though! It was cute!!!]

King immediately replies.

[King Halo: (12:06 PM) Stop getting distracted.]

Urara giggles at the message, tail swishing, while Yasuaki just shakes his head.

Yasuaki: (glancing at her) ...At least you reported it.

Urara: (pouting playfully) Heyyy, I can be serious too! Look, I'm super focused-eyes peeled like a carrot!

Yasuaki: (snorts softly) That's not how the phrase goes, but I'll take it.

[Early Afternoon - Outside Campus]

King Halo, true to her word, expands her search beyond the academy gates. She checks the bus stop, the small convenience store nearby, and even the quiet park path leading away from campus.

[King Halo: (1:17 PM) Outside grounds clear. Expanding toward river path.]

Rice answers almost immediately.

[Rice Shower: (1:19 PM) Checked greenhouse area. Still nothing... should we stop?]

Before King can reply, Yasuaki's message appears.

Chapter Text

( a couple of weeks ) 

The afternoon sun bled softly through the office curtains, painting the room in a warm glow. The steady scratch of a pen against paper filled the silence as Yayoi sat at her desk, posture perfect.

while she sifted through yet another stack of academy paperwork.

On the couch against the wall, however, Yasuaki lay sprawled in his usual way-arms folded behind his head, one leg dangling off the edge. His eyes were half-closed, his voice the languid drawl of someone who had spent the morning pushing himself just enough to justify collapsing here.

Yasuaki: (muttering, almost to himself) ...How hard is it to train outside? Way harder than it should be.

Yayoi didn't look up from her documents.

Yayoi: (flatly) That's an odd complaint from someone whose entire job is training outside.

Yasuaki: (lazily) Mm. Yeah, but you didn't see them today. Steps up to the shrine, tricep dips all along the top platforms... I thought Urara was going to turn into a puddle before we even reached halfway.

He tilted his head, eyes closing as he let out a sigh.

Yasuaki: (murmuring) She kept falling behind, tripping, tumbling... and still smiling. Like she couldn't even see her own legs giving out.

That finally made Yayoi glance up, arching a brow.

Yayoi: (dry) And you let her keep going?

Yasuaki: (with a faint smirk) Of course not. That's where Narita came in.she ended up supporting Urara the whole way up. Literally pulled her back to her feet more times than I could count.

He paused, tilting his head to peek at Yayoi through one eye.

Yasuaki: (soft chuckle) ...She complained the entire time, but she didn't leave Urara behind once.

Yayoi's pen stopped moving for a moment. Her gaze lingered on him, thoughtful, before she returned to her papers.

Yayoi: (calm) You sound almost proud of them.

Yasuaki cracked one eye open, smirking faintly.

Yasuaki: Of course. After all, it's your onii-chan who assembled the four of them.

Yayoi's lips curved ever so slightly at that, but she didn't look up this time.

Yayoi: (murmuring) ...Assembled, hm? More like stumbled into them one at a time until you ended up with a group.

Yasuaki: (grinning lazily) Details, details.

Yayoi finally set her pen down, leaning back slightly in her chair and giving him a knowing look.

Yayoi: (gently) It's been, what... a three months and a half now?

Yasuaki: (lazily) About that, yeah.

Yayoi: (carefully) ...Do you think you can get one more before the grace period ends?

Yasuaki: ...The four we've got right now-they're good. Stronger than they think they are. But finding a fifth who actually fits? That's the tricky part.

Yayoi: (tilting her head) You're being picky again.

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) You say that like it's a bad thing.

Yayoi: (flat) It is, if it gets your club disbanded.

Yasuaki slouched deeper into the couch, stretching out his legs until his heel tapped lightly against the armrest. He exhaled a long sigh, the picture of a man who thought the ceiling was far more interesting than responsibility.

Yasuaki: (drawling) ...You know, for someone supposed to be my cute little sister, you sure sound a lot like an overbearing manager.

Yayoi ignored the jab. She shuffled her papers into a neat stack, set them aside.

Yayoi: (sighing) Cute or not, I do have another favor to ask.

That got his attention. His eyes cracked open just enough to focus on her.

Yasuaki: (suspicious) ...Oh, no. Not another one. I just handled the Narita situation, you know. That nearly gave me gray hair. Since when is my job consulting every lost soul you come across?

Yayoi: (calm, unmoved) Since you decided to call yourself a trainer.

Yasuaki: (grumbling) I said trainer, not therapist. There's a difference.

Yayoi: (ignoring him) She's a transfer student. New to the academy. She's been having... difficulty. With both the other Uma Musume and the trainers.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow) Difficulty how.

Yayoi: (measured) Academically, she's flawless. Top marks in every subject, tests finished in half the time. Even the instructors admit she's probably the sharpest mind in her year. But...

She paused, before looking at him directly.

Yayoi: (flat) Her flaw is that it's almost impossible to have a normal conversation with her.

Yasuaki blinked slowly, letting her words hang before giving a faint snort.

Yasuaki: (drawling) Hah. So, a prodigy who can outthink everyone but can't talk straight to save her life. Sounds exhausting already.

Yayoi: (calm) She isn't unkind. She simply... thinks differently. Her remarks are riddled with metaphors space, stars, the multiverse. Even her classmates don't know how to respond half the time. What she means sincerely often comes across as eccentric.

Yasuaki let the words sink in, staring at the ceiling as his brow furrowed ever so slightly. Something about that description tickled a memory like he'd seen or heard of such a girl before. Maybe it was a chance glimpse in the corridor, or a stray remark that stuck out among the usual chatter.

Yasuaki (thinking):Stars, multiverse, eccentric metaphors... tch. Sounds familiar. Where did I...?

The thought dangled for a moment before he exhaled, rolling lazily onto his side and dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

Yasuaki: (murmuring) ...Nah. If I can't place it, it's not worth straining my brain over. Too much effort.

Yayoi gave him a look, the kind that balanced on the line between disbelief and resignation.

Yayoi: (flat) You really are hopeless sometimes.

Yasuaki: (grinning faintly, eyes half-closed) Hey, don't mistake hopeless for the heartless. I'll still give the kid a fair shot.

Yayoi: (dry) That's one way to describe it.

Yasuaki: (smirking) The correct way.

lingering. Even through the haze of laziness, there was a softness to him-an easygoing warmth that made it clear he'd already decided he wouldn't dismiss this girl, no matter how strange she was. It was just his way of working, while quietly keeping his hand steady on the reins.

Yasuaki (thinking): Eccentric or not, if she needs someone to listen... guess I'll be that guy. Can't be worse than Narita's kicks.

Yayoi shook her head slightly, returning to her papers with a faint sigh.

Yayoi: (quietly, almost to herself) ...You're lazier than anyone else I know, and yet people end up leaning on you anyway.

Yasuaki cracked one eye open, studying her curiously.

Yasuaki: (drawling) Fine, fine. At least tell me who this mystery Uma is.

Yayoi set down her pen and adjusted her glasses.

Yayoi: (matter-of-fact) Neo Universe. She transferred in this semester.

Yasuaki blinked.

Yasuaki: (sitting up halfway) ...Wait, wait. Neo Universe? That's her actual name?

Yayoi: (flat) Yes.

Yasuaki: (groaning, dragging a hand down his face) Of course it is. Stars, multiverse, eccentric metaphors-why wouldn't she be called Neo Universe. Perfect cosmic branding.

He flopped back onto the couch, arm over his eyes like he was shielding himself from reality itself.

Yasuaki: (muttering) You know what? No thanks. I'm out. Handle it yourself, little sister.

Yayoi: (calm, not even looking up) Get out of my office and find her.

Yasuaki: (protesting) You didn't even hesitate!

Yayoi: (firm) Because I knew you'd try this.

Yasuaki: (sighing, defeated) ...Cruel. You're cruel, Yayoi.

With great theatrical suffering, he slid off the couch and shuffled to the door, shoulders hunched like a man headed to his own execution. Yayoi didn't look up from her paperwork once.

──────────

[later that afternoon]

Yasuaki trudged across the campus with his usual unhurried pace, stopping here and there to flag down students.

Yasuaki: (casually) Hey, you seen a girl named Neo Universe? 

Most of the students gave him confused looks, a few shaking their heads, but one group of second-years perked up.

Student A: (nodding) Ah, her! Yeah, she's... um... a little odd. But she's usually out by the courtyard bench.

Student B: (hesitant) Just... don't be surprised if she doesn't notice you right away. She kind of... zones out.

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) Great. Sounds like we'll get along just fine.

With their directions, he wandered out toward the courtyard. The space was quiet, save for the rustle of leaves and the distant sound of laughter from a training track. And there, exactly as the students had said, sat a girl on the bench-long blonde hair fading into streaks of blue, her gaze fixed upward into the endless sky.

Yasuaki slowed, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Yasuaki (thinking):Wait a second... isn't that the girl from before? The one who pointed me toward Narita at the station.

The memory slipped into place. Same hair, same far-off look. He almost stopped in his tracks, realizing he'd seen her once already in the middle of that mess.

As his footsteps crunched softly against the stone path, the girl blinked, as if pulled gently back down from the stratosphere. She turned her head toward him, her expression calm, her eyes carrying the faint shimmer of someone who saw far too much.

And then-

Neo Universe: (softly) ...Yasuaki Akikawa.

He paused mid-step, blinking in surprise.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow) ...Huh. That's a first. Usually I have to introduce myself.

Her lips curved faintly, not in a smirk, but in something closer to satisfaction.

Neo Universe: (smoothly) I've seen you before. That much is easy.

Yasuaki: (tilting his head) outside of the academy right? You pointed me toward Narita. Guess I should be saying thanks for that.

Neo Universe: (lightly, covering with ease) You don't need to thank me. It wasn't difficult. I noticed the director once, in passing. Same hair. Same presence. From there, it was simple to deduce you were her older brother.

Yasuaki blinked at her explanation, letting the pieces fall into place. For most people, that might've sounded like an odd leap.

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) Hm. Sharp eye, then. Guess I shouldn't be surprised you figured it out.

Neo Universe: (calm, almost matter-of-fact) Observation isn't difficult. Interpretation is.

Yasuaki: (amused) ...Well, at least this conversation hasn't turned into quantum riddles yet. You're already easier to talk to than I expected.

Her gaze flicked upward again, back to the sky.

Neo Universe: (softly, almost musing) That depends. Do you see the sky as an end, or as the beginning?

Yasuaki blinked, chuckled under his breath, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

Yasuaki: (smiling) ...And there it is.

Yasuaki lowered himself onto the bench with his usual lazy grace, stretching his arms along the backrest.

Yasuaki: (casually) You know, I heard you haven't really made any friends since you transferred here.

Neo Universe didn't turn her head right away. Her gaze lingered on the wide blue sky, as though she was reading something invisible written across it. Then she spoke, her tone calm and even.

Neo Universe: (softly) People pass through, like comets. They blaze for a moment, then they're gone.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, half-smiling) Huh. Poetic way of saying nobody sticks around.

She finally glanced his way, her expression serene but her eyes carrying a quiet weight-like she knew far more than she was letting on.

Neo Universe: (lightly) You would know. You've been busy lately, collecting people who were about to drift away.

That caught Yasuaki off-guard for a moment. He blinked, then let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

Yasuaki: (grinning faintly) ...You say that like you've been watching me.

Neo Universe: (smoothly, covering) It's not difficult to notice. You stand out, even when you pretend you don't.

Yasuaki tilted his head, studying her. Something about the way she said it wasn't casual observation-it was too precise, too certain.

Yasuaki: (thinking)Sharp kid. Feels like she's reading more than just the room...

Neo Universe shifted slightly on the bench, her gaze sliding back to the sky as though measuring the clouds against some invisible chart. Then, without ceremony, she spoke.

Neo Universe: (soft, curious) You're here to consult me, aren't you? To see if I'm coping. If I've made friends.

Yasuaki blinked, then huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

Yasuaki: (drawling) ...Well, that's blunt. You're not wrong, though. I was asked to check in on you. See if you're settling in.

Neo Universe: (flat, almost dreamy) I'm not.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow) No hesitation, huh.

Neo Universe: (soft, calm) Friends are like stars that wink out when dawn comes. I've stopped chasing them.

Yasuaki tilted his head back, exhaling slowly.

Yasuaki: (gentle, but teasing) That's a pretty lonely way to put it.

She finally turned to him again, her face calm, her expression unreadable.

Neo Universe: (firm) I'm only interested in running. The rest... is noise.

For a moment, Yasuaki didn't respond. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

Yasuaki: (serious now) Running, huh. Then maybe I'll recruit you,if I see something interesting in how you run. That's how I choose my team.

Neo blinked at him, a faint flicker of surprise breaking her calm surface. Then her lips curved just slightly, the closest thing to a smile.

Neo Universe: (musing) Conditional acceptance. That's fair.

She looked at him a moment longer, as though weighing something only she could see, before her voice dropped quieter.

Neo Universe: (softly, almost to herself) ...And I was searching for a trainer anyway.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow) Oh? You've already decided that?

Neo Universe: (calm, confident) Not decided. Observed. You'll be a good trainer for me.

Yasuaki leaned back on the bench, folding his arms with a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Yasuaki: (teasing, but curious) That's a confident , borderline bold-statement. But tell me, how do you know how I train my teammates? You haven't exactly been around the club.

Neo Universe tilted her head slightly, her hair catching the afternoon light.

Neo Universe: (softly, matter-of-fact) You can tell a lot from the way someone looks at others. How they let them fall, and how they wait for them to stand again. How they speak little, but the words land anyway.

Yasuaki blinked, then let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

Yasuaki: (amused) Hm. That's... a strangely accurate guess.

Neo Universe: (serene, almost musing) It isn't a guess. Just... patterns. Even the smallest orbit tells you the gravity it belongs to.

Yasuaki: (grinning faintly) You're an interesting one. How about this-let's make it simple. A mock race. Eight hundred meters, against a fast racer I know. That'll at least test your capability.

Neo Universe finally turned her head fully toward him, her eyes bright yet unreadable, as if she'd already accepted before he'd finished speaking.

Neo Universe: (calmly) Eight hundred meters. A short orbit. That's fine.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow) No hesitation? Most new transfers would've asked who they're racing.

Neo Universe: (quiet, confident) It doesn't matter who. The stars don't change course because of the company they keep.

Yasuaki chuckled under his breath, standing up from the bench and stretching lazily.

Yasuaki: (smirking) ...You've got confidence, I'll give you that. Alright then. Tomorrow, at the track. Bring your best legs.

Neo turned back to the sky, her expression calm, serene.

Neo Universe: (softly) I always do.

As Yasuaki shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled off.

──────────

[Later that afternoon - Team Spica's practice grounds]

The thundering sound of hooves hitting the track filled the air, the Spica girls blazing past in perfect rhythm. Gold Ship darted past Daiwa Scarlet with a mischievous laugh, only for Scarlet to yell at her to run properly. Vodka was hot on their heels, smirking like she'd already won the race, while Special Week shouted encouragements as she tried to keep pace. Suzuka, serene and silent, led the pack like a ribbon of wind, unshakable and precise.

Off to the side stood pervert-senpai, watching.

Yasuaki strolled in. 

Pervert Senpai: (grinning wide) Oh-ho! If it isn't the mysterious couch-bound genius himself. Don't tell me you're here to spy on our training, Akikawa-kun.

Yasuaki: (dryly) Please. If I wanted to spy, I'd pick a better hiding place than the middle of the track.

Gold Ship: (skidding to a stop) Oi, oi, oi! Couch-boy's here! Did you come to watch us blaze the ground, or just nap in the sun?

Yasuaki: (smirking) Neither. I came to ask for a favor.

Scarlet slowed to a jog, brushing sweat from her brow, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

Daiwa Scarlet: (raising a brow) A favor? From Spica? That's a first.

Vodka: (grinning) This ought to be good.

Special Week bounded up, bright-eyed and wagging her tail slightly.

Special Week: (cheerfully) What do you need, Akikawa-san?

Yasuaki (casually): I've got a new transfer student I want to test. My sister says she's really sharp, so I bet she's got some technique on the track. I was thinking-could I borrow Silent Suzuka for a mock race? I just want to see if this student is actually as fast as she thinks she is.

Pervert Senpai tilted his head, grinning with an approving glint in his eyes.

Pervert Senpai: (smiling) That's fine with me. But that's not my call to make, is it? If Suzuka's alright with it, then go ahead.

All eyes shifted toward Suzuka, who had stopped stretching and stood quietly a short distance away. The faint breeze caught her hair, but her expression stayed calm and thoughtful as she considered Yasuaki's request.

After a long moment, she stepped closer, her clear, steady gaze meeting his.

Silence Suzuka: (soft, certain) I'll do it.

Yasuaki raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Yasuaki: (lightly) Quick answer. You don't even know who you're racing yet.

Suzuka: (shaking her head gently) If she wants to run, then she deserves someone who takes her seriously. If I can help show her where she stands, I will.

Yasuaki: (half-smile) Appreciate it.

Pervert Senpai tilted his head slightly, studying Yasuaki with a glint of curiosity.

Pervert Senpai: (playful, but sharp) Funny. Rival club leader comes waltzing in, all lazy smiles, asking my ace to help him recruit. What's your game, Akikawa-kun?

Yasuaki gave a soft chuckle, slipping his hands deeper into his pockets as if the whole room wasn't staring at him.

Yasuaki: (flat, matter-of-fact) Suzuka's always been "the face," hasn't she? Even before Spica. Back in Rigil, her style was clear-fast out of the gate, stretches the field, no hesitation. Textbook free-runner. You don't see many like that anymore.

Scarlet blinked, surprised at the precision in his tone. Suzuka herself glanced at him, her usually calm eyes narrowing faintly in curiosity.

Yasuaki: (continuing, thoughtful) A uma who takes the wind for herself-doesn't wait for a pack, doesn't play by draft or cover. She runs because the front is the only place she belongs. But that kind of running is fragile, too. One misstep, one doubt, and the whole rhythm collapses.

Pervert Senpai's grin didn't fade, but the look in his eyes sharpened.

Pervert Senpai: (leaning in slightly) Hoh... you've done your homework. Not bad for the rival boy who claims to nap through meetings.

Yasuaki: (dry) Homework? I didn't need to. Hana Tōjō-senpai told me herself-back when Suzuka was in Rigil, midway through the term, she had no motivation to race. Legs were fine, body fine. It wasn't physical. It had to do with something-or someone.

Suzuka finally looked at him, a faint glimmer of acknowledgment in her otherwise quiet gaze.

Silence Suzuka: (calm, steady) ...You really do pay attention.

Yasuaki: (shrugging) Someone has to.

Pervert Senpai chuckled, low and amused, before straightening again.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning) Fine, fine. You've made your point. She'll run for your test-her choice, her pace. Just don't expect me to go easy on you when Lumina and Spica clash for real.

Yasuaki: (smirking, tilting his head back) Good. Wouldn't want you to go easy anyway. When Lumina and Spica face each other, don't expect my team to hold back either.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning wider, eyes narrowing with amusement) Hah. Bold words for the youngest trainer in the division. Guess we'll see if that confidence holds when your rookies line up against my veterans.

Yasuaki: (shrugging lazily, though his tone is steady) Confidence is earned. They'll prove themselves. I don't take on anyone I don't believe in.

Yasuaki shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, turning slightly as though ready to leave. But then, as if it were an afterthought, his gaze slid back toward Pervert Senpai.

Yasuaki: (casual, but with a hint of curiosity) ...By the way, is Teio around? Haven't seen her since the last time we crossed paths.

Pervert Senpai: (arching a brow, smirking knowingly) Teio, huh? She's been busy pushing herself harder than ever. She was just here not long ago. (he gestures toward his team) Ask them, maybe one of them saw where she wandered off.

Gold Ship tilted her head, scratching her cheek.

Gold Ship: (puzzled) Huh? I thought she was right behind me when we finished cooldown. Guess I got distracted... (grinning sheepishly) probably chasing snacks again.

Vodka crossed her arms, frowning.

Vodka: (serious) No, she was with us. Then she just-poof. Vanished before I could ask if she wanted to hit the track again.

Daiwa Scarlet: (irritated, arms akimbo) Honestly, Teio's been like that all week. Coming early, leaving without a word. It's strange.

Silence Suzuka only tilted her head faintly, her voice quiet.

Suzuka: (soft) She's... been carrying something heavy lately. More than she lets on.

Special Week's ears drooped slightly, her hands clasping nervously.

Special Week: (concerned) I hope she's okay...

Yasuaki's gaze drifted between them, his usual calm expression not quite hiding the flicker of unease in his eyes. He shoved his hands into his pockets, giving a faint shrug as if to downplay his interest.

Yasuaki: (carelessly, with a faint smile) Hm. Figures. She's always had that habit smiling while hiding something. Don't worry. She'll come around.

He raised one hand in a lazy wave as he turned to leave, his stride unhurried, voice trailing behind him like a breeze.

Yasuaki: (without looking back) ...See you tomorrow.

──────────

[The Next Day - Tracen Track]

The stands were busier than usual. On one side, Yasuaki's team-King Halo, Narita Taishin, Rice Shower, and Haru Urara-had gathered together. Across from them sat Spica, buzzing with energy as Gold Ship leaned halfway over the railing, Vodka and Scarlet already bickering, and Special Week cheering for everyone at once.

Down on the track, Neo Universe and Silence Suzuka stretched in perfect contrast. Suzuka, quiet and methodical, her every movement clean and controlled. Neo, serene but unreadable, her golden-blue hair catching the sunlight.

Yasuaki stood at the track's edge, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily gesturing as he explained the rules.

Yasuaki: (calmly, hands in his pockets) Eight-hundred meters. Straight mock run. Rules are simple-whoever reaches the finishing line first wins. Easy, isn't it?

Suzuka gave a small nod, her eyes narrowing with focus. Neo tilted her head, expression serene, as though she were listening to some sound only she could hear.

Neo Universe: (softly) Simple orbits still belong to the same stars. I understand.

In the stands, Urara bounced in her seat, clutching Rice's arm.

Urara: (excited) Waaaah, it's n..neo?- Chan first mock! Do you think she's nervous? Do you think she's fast? Ohhh, this is so exciting!

King Halo: (sternly, though with a faint smile) Sit still, Urara. You're shaking Rice-chan like a maraca.

Rice Shower: (soft, stammering) I-I-I-it's fine... really...!

Narita sat back, arms crossed, her sharp eyes fixed on the two runners ahead of her.

Narita: (gruffly) ...So that's the transfer, huh. Let's see how fast she's actually is.

And just beside Spica's group, Tokai Teio shifted in her seat. Her usual bright grin was plastered on, but every so often her gaze flicked toward Yasuaki standing on the track. Every glance was quick, fleeting, as if she didn't even mean to yet it kept happening.

Yasuaki, sharp even behind his lazy half-lidded eyes, noticed. He raised a brow and glanced back at her.

Yasuaki: (casually, with a half-smile) ...What's wrong, Teio? You've been staring holes in me since I got here.

Teio's shoulders jolted, her smile snapping wider in reflex.

Teio: (too quickly) N-nothing! Absolutely nothing! Just, uh-watching the prep! That's all!

Gold Ship leaned across Special Week with a sly grin.

Gold Ship: (whispering loudly) Oho~! Someone's acting weird! Suspicious, veeery suspicious~!

Teio: (snapping, flustered) I-It's not weird! I'm normal! Perfectly normal!

Yasuaki gave Teio a long, unreadable look, then exhaled softly through his nose, letting her silence speak for itself. He turned back to the track, lifting his hand high.

Yasuaki: (firm, calm) ...All right. Neo. Suzuka. On my mark.

The runners lowered into position. Suzuka's body leaned forward like a coiled spring, her focus sharp, her every muscle begging for release. Neo, by contrast, stood loose, almost casual-her long hair shifting.

Yasuaki: ...Go!

The sharp command sliced through the air, and in the next instant, both bolted.

Suzuka exploded from the line with the raw speed she was known for-her acceleration clean, powerful, and merciless. Neo, however, unfolded into motion like water spilling from a tilted glass, her strides unhurried yet deceptively fast, her breathing even from the very first step.

From the stands, Urara leapt to her feet, cheering at the top of her lungs.

Urara: (yelling) Go, Neo-chan! Wooo! Faster, faster!

King Halo: (huffing) Sit down! It's not even halfway yet!

Pervert Senpai had his stopwatch ready, clicking it at the signal. He didn't even look at the watch yet-his eyes were on Yasuaki instead, his grin sly.

Pervert Senpai: (playful) Well, Akikawa-kun? You're the one who dragged us all out for this. Who's going to win?

Yasuaki's gaze followed the two, his hands shoved lazily into his pockets, but his eyes sharp with calculation.

Yasuaki: (flat, thoughtful) Suzuka's acceleration is sharper. She eats distance like it's nothing, especially early. But Neo... her stride is different. Long, efficient. She's not chasing speed, she's conserving. Like she's waiting for the track to bend in her favor.

He tilted his head slightly, squinting as they thundered down the straight. Suzuka had taken the early lead by a clear margin, but Neo's form hadn't broken at all.

Yasuaki: (continuing) She runs like she's not even touching the ground. Relaxed shoulders, even breathing, minimal drag. It's... unnerving.

Pervert Senpai chuckled, raising his brow.

Pervert Senpai: (amused) Hah. Sounds like you're saying they're neck and neck. But on the surface, Suzuka's already pulling ahead.

Yasuaki didn't flinch, his gaze fixed on the track.

Yasuaki: (evenly) On the surface, yes. Suzuka's got a clean two-meter lead right now. But Neo... she's deliberately sitting just behind her slipstream. That's not hesitation-it's calculation.

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he watched Neo's perfectly even rhythm.

Yasuaki: (continuing) It all comes down to the last two hundred meters. If Neo decides to spurt, she'll have to rely on raw power and her ability to hold her stamina. And from the way she's carrying herself-steady, confident... she hasn't even dipped into her reserves yet.

Beside them, Rice Shower leaned forward nervously, her small hands clutching the railing.

Rice Shower: (softly) ...She looks too calm. Almost... untouchable.

Narita: (grunting) Don't underestimate Suzuka. Calm won't mean anything if you can't keep up with her kick.

Urara, bouncing in her seat, waved both arms like a flag.

Urara: (yelling) Neo-chan, Neo-chan! It's your time, gooo!

King Halo: (sighing, but her lips twitching faintly) That girl... she cheers as if she's the one running.

Meanwhile, on the track, Suzuka's strides remained razor sharp, her acceleration refusing to taper even after the first half. Her form was immaculate head forward, strides biting into the ground, the wind cutting clean around her. But Neo, though trailing, didn't falter. Her breathing remained unnervingly steady, as if she had just started.

Pervert Senpai glanced at Yasuaki again, his grin widening.

Pervert Senpai: (smirking) Confident, aren't you? Betting on a newcomer against Suzuka, of all people.

Yasuaki: (flatly, with the faintest smile) I'm not betting. I'm observing Neo's capability. Tell me, Pervert Senpai-normally, when an Uma's confident in their stride, what happens when they finally meet someone stronger?

Pervert Senpai's grin faded into something sharper, his eyes glinting as the stopwatch ticked in his hand.

Pervert Senpai: (serious, thoughtful) ...They break. Their dream shatters. Some crumble right on the track. Some lose their rhythm and never get it back. Others... they stop running altogether. Seen it too many times to count.

He tilted his head toward Yasuaki, amused curiosity tugging back at the corners of his lips.

Pervert Senpai: (leaning in) And what about it, Akikawa-kun? You think this girl of yours is different?

Yasuaki's eyes never left the track. Suzuka was still in the lead, her form immaculate, her acceleration blazing as she powered through the backstretch. But Neo... Neo's expression hadn't shifted once. Her stride never faltered, her eyes never wavered from the line ahead.

Yasuaki: (firmly, quietly) She's not just different. She's unnerving. Neo hasn't wavered once,not in pace, not in breath, not in spirit. It's like she already saw this outcome before it started.

Pervert Senpai arched a brow at that, intrigued despite himself.

Pervert Senpai: (chuckling low) Hah. Bold words. But running's not prophecy-it's pain and grit. Even if she thinks she knows the ending, Suzuka will make her prove it.

On the track, the final turn loomed. Suzuka shifted gears, her trademark dash igniting like wildfire as she launched into her top speed, her body leaning low and slicing the wind. The crowd erupted, Spica's members standing to their feet.

Special Week: (cheering) Suzuka-san! Go, go, go!

Vodka: (grinning fiercely) That's the kick I was waiting for!

Daiwa Scarlet: (clenching her fists)Hmph! Just like her-never holding back

As Suzuka surged, Neo's stride deepened. Her entire frame stretched into a new rhythm, longer, stronger, pouring every ounce of hidden energy into the track. Her calm expression didn't crack, but her aura shifted, sharp as starlight cutting through clouds.

The distance between them began to close.

Rice Shower: (gasping) ...She's catching up!

Narita: (gritting her teeth) Tch... that pace... it's crazy...

King Halo: (eyes wide) Her form-there's no wasted motion. It's like she's flying.

Urara, bouncing in her seat, nearly toppled forward over the railing.

Urara: (shouting) Wooaaah! Go, Neo-chan! Go, Suzuka-san! This is amazing!

Yasuaki narrowed his eyes, his voice steady despite the electric energy in the air.

Yasuaki: (low, analytical) There it is... her true stride. Smooth as orbit, deadly as gravity.

Suzuka and Neo tore down the last stretch. Suzuka's body cut the air like a blade, her legs a blur of controlled fury. Neo, right at her shoulder now, ran like she belonged to another world-fluid, precise, relentless.

Every stride matched. Every breath synchronized.Both Spica and Lumina shouting at once, their voices merging into one.

Urara: (screaming) Go, go, go, go, gooo!

Scarlet: (yelling) Suzuka! Don't let her take it!

Rice Shower: (whispering, clutching her chest) Please... just hold on...

Narita: (gritting) Damn... they're even. Exactly even.

The finish line rushed up to meet them. Suzuka lowered her body, exploding with her final surge. Neo answered instantly, her stride lengthening as if she'd reserved one last card just for this moment.

And then-

The sound of hooves thundered into silence as both broke the tape in perfect unison. The photo sensors above the line flashed wildly.

A hush fell over the track.

Pervert Senpai clicked his stopwatch and whistled low, glancing down at the numbers before showing Yasuaki with a crooked grin.

Pervert Senpai: (amused) One minute, twenty flat. Both of them. Dead even.

Gasps spread through the stands. Spica's girls looked wide-eyed, while Lumina's side erupted in shouts of disbelief.

Special Week: (awe-struck) Eeeh?! They tied?!

Vodka: (grinning wide) Heh! That's insane!

Scarlet: (snapping) Don't act impressed! Suzuka didn't lose!

Gold Ship: (cackling) Nyahaha! A tie's even better! Chaos is delicious!

Up in the seats, Urara practically toppled forward, waving her arms wildly.

Urara: (beaming) Neo-chan, Suzuka-san! You're both amazing!!

Meanwhile, Yasuaki exhaled through his nose, his gaze lingering on the two Uma as they slowed to a trot, their chests heaving but their postures still composed. Suzuka's face was calm but her eyes burned with the thrill of a real challenge. Neo, on the other hand, wore the faintest smile, as if the tie had been exactly what she expected.

On the track, Suzuka slowed to a walk, brushing loose strands of hair from her face before turning to Neo. She extended her hand without hesitation, her voice steady but warm.

Suzuka: (smiling) You're fast. I haven't felt pressure like that in a long time.

Neo tilted her head slightly, her calm eyes lifting to meet Suzuka's. For a moment, she studied the hand, then reached forward with delicate certainty.

Neo Universe: (graceful, sincere) ...Grateful. For giving me the chance to run against you. It was like tracing a star across the sky.

Suzuka chuckled lightly at the unusual metaphor, but her grip was firm when their hands met.

Suzuka: (gentle) Strange way to put it... but I understand. Thank you, too.

The handshake lingered a beat longer than expected, both recognizing in the other something rare-a rival worthy of respect.

From the stands, Narita crossed her arms, eyes narrowing in reluctant acknowledgment.

Narita: (gruff) Hmph. For a newcomer, she's holding her own against Suzuka. That's no small feat.

Rice Shower: (softly, smiling faintly) ...It felt less like a fight, and more like... harmony.

King Halo: (snapping lightly) Don't get poetic. It's still competition. A tie just means next time, one of them will win.

Urara bounced in her seat, tail wagging furiously.

Urara: (cheering) That's perfect! More races, more excitement! Everyone wins!

Down on the track, Yasuaki finally stepped forward, his lazy stride belying the sharp focus in his eyes.

Yasuaki: (calmly) Not bad. Not bad at all.

Pervert Senpai was already striding toward them, stopwatch still dangling from his hand, a gleam of interest in his eyes.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning) Hah. Didn't think I'd see the day. Someone who could match Suzuka's dash stride for stride. (he turned to Neo with a playful bow) Neo Universe, was it? If you don't already have a place, I'd be happy to welcome you into Spica. You'd fit right in among us.

The members of Spica perked up at that, Special Week gasping in excitement, Gold Ship already whistling in anticipation.

But before Neo could answer, Yasuaki's voice cut in, quiet but firm.

Yasuaki: (flat) ...Hold it.

He shifted his weight lazily, but the sharpness in his eyes told a different story as he looked straight at Pervert Senpai.

Yasuaki: (level) I had eyes on her first. This test wasn't just for fun-it was a recruitment.

Pervert Senpai blinked, then let out a low chuckle, lifting his hands as if to say "fair enough."

Pervert Senpai: (teasing) Oh? So the sleepy little genius does get possessive. 

Yasuaki didn't rise to the bait, only letting the corner of his mouth twitch.

Neo, meanwhile, stood between the two calmly, her gaze sweeping the track before settling on Yasuaki. She folded her hands neatly in front of her, her voice soft but certain.

Neo Universe: (serene) ...I've already decided. My orbit belongs to Lumina.

The air shifted instantly. Spica's members all reacted at once-

Special Week: (startled) Eh?! She turned us down just like that?!

Vodka: (grinning, muttering to Scarlet) Bold kid. I kinda like it.

Daiwa Scarlet: (snapping) Vodka, don't encourage her!

Gold Ship: (howling with laughter) Nyahaha! Rejected! Our proud trainer gets rejected! What a twist!

Pervert Senpai only laughed, scratching the back of his neck in mock defeat.

Pervert Senpai: (amused) Well, can't say I didn't try. But I like a girl who knows her mind.

Teio, though, had stayed silent through the exchange. Her eyes flicked from Yasuaki to Neo, then back again. A small, tight knot twisted in her chest, though she forced a smile when Special Week nudged her.

Teio: (light, hiding it) ...Looks like Lumina's getting stronger.

On the track, Yasuaki finally gave a small nod toward Neo, his usual lazy composure carrying a hint of genuine satisfaction.

Yasuaki: (quietly) Then it's settled. Welcome to Lumina.

Neo inclined her head gracefully, her calm smile never wavering.

Neo Universe: (softly) ...Grateful. The path is clearer now.

From the stands, Urara practically jumped onto the railing.

Urara: (beaming) Yayyy! Neo-chan's joining us! Our team's growing again!

King Halo: (sighing, but smiling despite herself) At this rate, we'll need twice the discipline just to keep you all in line.

Narita: (grumbling) ...Tch. Another oddball. Great.

Rice Shower: (smiling faintly) ...She's strong. Maybe... maybe she'll bring us luck, too.

And just like that, Lumina had gained its fifth member-securing the club's future,

And just like that, Lumina had gained its fifth member-securing the club's future at last.

Urara immediately threw both arms into the air, her voice ringing like a bell.

Urara: (beaming) Then it's settled! Celebration time! Let's all go to a buffet tonight-our first official Lumina dinner as a real club!

The idea made the stands buzz with chatter.

King Halo: (straightening, one hand to her chest) Hmph. A buffet? Hardly the most elegant venue... but fine. I suppose a little indulgence can be forgiven in light of such an occasion.

Narita: (snorting) Tch. She says that now, but she'll eat half the dessert table.

King Halo: (snapping, cheeks coloring) W-what nonsense! A lady maintains moderation at all times!

Urara: (giggling) Sooo, we'll make it fun-whoever eats the least pays the bill!

Gold Ship: (hooting) Ohoho! Brilliant! Let's rope in Spica too-bigger party, bigger chaos!

Vodka: (grinning wide) Works for me. I'll clean out the meat corner.

Scarlet: (pinching her nose) You're impossible. But fine. A joint celebration... I guess it wouldn't hurt.

Special Week: (clapping excitedly) Yay! Food with everyone!

Suzuka: (smiling softly) ...I don't mind. It would be nice to sit together again.

Pervert Senpai raised his hands as if he'd been caught in a trap, eyes wide with mock horror.

Pervert Senpai: (protesting) Hold on, hold on! When did I agree to this? Nobody asked if I wanted to go broke tonight!

Urara: (grinning innocently) You just did! By showing up here, it means you signed up!

Pervert Senpai: (groaning) You little gremlins...

Even Yasuaki, still on the track, gave a low chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Yasuaki: (lazy smile) Hm. Works for me. A buffet's less trouble than cooking for all of you anyway.

As the others chattered about meat platters and dessert corners, Teio found her gaze drifting to him again. Her chest tightened-not painful, but an insistent throb that hadn't left her since that night. She bit her lip, then hopped down a step from Spica's section, weaving through the small crowd until she was beside him.

Teio: (lightly, forcing her usual cheer) Hey, Yasu. You sure don't waste time, huh? First Narita , now Neo , you keep pulling surprises out of nowhere.

Yasuaki glanced at her sidelong, one brow quirked, but his voice was calm, easy.

Yasuaki: (dryly) Hm. Guess that's just me. Collecting trouble wherever I go.

Teio laughed, a little too quickly, rubbing the back of her neck.

Teio: (grinning) ...You always did, didn't you? Some things never change.

For a brief moment, her smile wavered-heart thudding harder-but she steadied it before he could notice. Or at least, she thought she had.

Yasuaki: (narrowing his eyes slightly) You're acting weird.

Teio: (startled, flustered) Wh-what? Weird? No way! This is me being totally normal Teio.

Yasuaki tilted his head, studying her for a second. Then, without warning, he leaned closer and pressed the back of his hand gently against her forehead.

Yasuaki: (flat, concerned) Hm. You're a little red. Fever? Or just overworking yourself again?

Teio froze, her face going even redder as heat shot to her ears.

Teio: (stammering) I-I'm fine! Totally fine! You don't have to- to check like that, geez!

Yasuaki: (blinking, unfazed) Hm. If you say so.

She fumbled for words, her tail twitching wildly behind her.

And of course-that was when Gold Ship noticed.

Gold Ship: (grinning like a devil) Ooooh? What's this? A trainer forehead-check with Teio-chan? Scandalous~!

Her voice carried loud enough to snap every head nearby toward them.

Rice Shower: (blinking, flustered) ...Eh?! Wh-what are they-?

Narita: (clicking her tongue) Tch. Unbelievable. Does he even realize how that looks?

King Halo: (folding her arms, muttering) Shameless. Absolutely shameless. Right in front of everyone.

Teio nearly jumped a foot in the air, waving her hands frantically.

Teio: (panicking) N-no, no, no! It's not like that! Yasu was just-! I mean-! He thought I had a fever, that's all!

Gold Ship: (howling with laughter) Nyahaha! That's exactly what makes it look like that!

Yasuaki, for his part, simply scratched his cheek, completely unbothered.

Yasuaki: (mildly) ...You lot are noisy. I just thought she looked off. That's all.

Urara, meanwhile, didn't care about the teasing at all. She hopped up behind Yasuaki, practically draping herself over his back with boundless energy.

Urara: (cheerful) Yay! Everyone's getting along so well already!

Her infectious grin spread across the group. Even King, who had been scolding seconds before, softened her posture. Rice, still flustered, smiled into her sleeves. And Narita, though she huffed and crossed her arms.

Neo, standing just a step behind, tilted her head as she observed the scene. Her calm gaze lingered, After a quiet beat, she lifted her hand and gave Yasuaki a firm thumbs-up.

Neo Universe: (calmly) ...I will support you in your harem.

The words landed like a meteor.

Teio: (choking) H-harem?!

King Halo: P-preposterous!

Rice Shower: (tiny squeak) ...H-h-harem?!

Narita: (snarling) Don't say things that'll make people misunderstand, you space case!

Urara tilted her head innocently, eyes sparkling.

Urara: (cheerful) What's a harem? Is it like a buffet, but with people instead of food?

Everyone went dead silent. Even Gold Ship from the Spica side leaned over, laughing so hard she nearly fell off the stands.

Yasuaki pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning low.

Yasuaki: (flat, exasperated) ...Neo. Don't sprout nonsense like that ever again.

Neo blinked at him, her usual serene expression flickering.

Neo Universe: (softly, stuttering a little)I-I... It's not nonsense. It's just... something I... ah, saw. Or... rather... something a Yasuaki from... n-nevermind. Forget it.

She stopped herself abruptly, lowering her gaze. Her words hung in the air-strange enough to puzzle Yasuaki, but not clear enough to explain anything.

Before he could press, the others pounced.

Teio (flustered, face red):W-wait, wait! Did she just say your name? Y-Yasu, please don't tell me you've been plotting some kind of harem plan behind their backs!

King Halo: Outrageous! To think you'd entertain such an idea, Yasuaki sensei.

Rice Shower: (quiet, trembling) ...A... a harem? With... us? N-no... that can't be...

Narita: (snarling, ears flat) Tch. Figures. The "lazy genius" act, and all along you were scheming this? Disgusting.

The accusations came fast, voices overlapping as the girls glared at him from every angle.

Yasuaki raised his head slowly, giving them all a dry, incredulous look.

Yasuaki: (flat, annoyed) ...What part of "don't sprout nonsense" sounded like "I want a harem"?

Urara tilted her head innocently, hopping closer.

Urara: (curious) Sooo... you don't want one?

Yasuaki: (deadpan) No, Urara. What I want is to train Uma Musume, not collect them like some twisted stamp set.

Gold Ship: (cackling) Nyahaha! Oh, this is priceless! Akikawa-kun, you've dug yourself into a hole so deep, you'll need an excavator to climb out!

Special Week: (flustered, waving her hands) I-I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding! Yasuaki-san isn't like that... right?

Vodka: (smirking) Doesn't look good for him, though.

Scarlet: (snapping) Don't joke about it! This is serious!

Yasuaki let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his posture as lazy as ever but his tone unusually sharp.

Yasuaki: (firm, steady) Listen carefully, all of you. I didn't ask for this conversation. I didn't start it. I don't care about "harems" or whatever weird idea Neo spat out. I'm a trainer. I train Uma Musume. That's it. End of story.

The bluntness of his voice cut through the noise, making the group falter for a moment. 

Neo, still quiet, tilted her head and gave him that same serene little smile, as if she knew far more than she could ever say.

Neo Universe: (softly, almost to herself) ...Even so, you'll understand one day.

Yasuaki gave her a flat look, but turned away before he could get dragged into another round of chaos.

Yasuaki: (muttering) ...This is exactly why I hate unnecessary drama.

Urara: (brightly) Well! Since we're all worked up... let's just eat it off! Buffet time, remember?!

King sighed, Rice tried to hide a smile, and even Narita grumbled but didn't object. Neo merely tilted her head with her usual serenity, while Teio trailed behind Yasuaki.

Chapter 9 end 

To be continue 

Chapter Text

[ 7 years ago...Halloween Festival – Evening]

The streets are decorated with glowing jack-o’-lanterns, strings of orange lights, and stalls selling candy. The crisp autumn air carries the smell of caramel apples and roasted chestnuts. Yasuaki, 11, walks beside his 9-year-old childhood friend, Teio, both carrying small Halloween treat bags.

Teio: Yasuaki! Look! That pumpkin looks like it’s smiling at me! Isn’t it so cute?

Yasuaki: (smiling slightly, adjusting his backpack) Cute, yeah… but don’t touch it. Remember last year when you tried to eat the fake candy?

Teio: (giggling) Hey! That was an experiment! Anyway, there’s something I really want to do!

She tugged on his sleeve, practically pulling him toward a dark corner of the festival where a large sign read

“Halloween Escape Room: Can You Survive the Spooks?" 

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow) Escape room, huh? You sure you want to try this, Teio?

Teio: (grinning confidently)Of course! I’m brave! And you’re coming with me, right?

Yasuaki sighed softly but followed. He knew from experience that Teio’s “brave” often came with a side of shrieking at shadows.

Inside, the lights were dim, fog rolled along the floor, and eerie music echoed through the rooms. A fake cobweb stretched across the doorway, and skeletons hung from the ceiling.

Teio: (eyes wide, clinging to Yasuaki’s arm) Y-Yasuaki… it’s… it’s really dark in here… maybe too dark…

Yasuaki: (patting her head gently)Relax, Teio. It’s just decorations. There are no real ghosts in here.

Teio: (hugging him tightly) But… what if a ghost jumps out?! You promised we’d stick together!

Yasuaki: (chuckling, careful not to trip over the fog) Ghosts don’t exist. It’s all costumes. You’re acting like a scaredy-cat. Here—why don’t you think about Symboli Rudolf for a bit? That should do the trick.

Teio: (confused, blinking) R-Rudolf? How… how is thinking about her going to help?

Yasuaki: (smiling reassuringly) Focus on something you like. Think about her winning races, her confident smile, how strong she is. You’ll forget the ghosts in no time.

Teio squeezed her eyes shut, trying to picture the proud, elegant Uma Musume she admired so much. In her mind, Rudolf galloped across the finish line.

Teio: (taking a deep breath) Okay… I’m thinking about Rudolf… she’s… she’s so strong… nothing can scare her…

Yasuaki nodded, walking a few steps ahead, giving her space but keeping his hand lightly on her back.

Suddenly, a skeleton with glowing eyes swung from the ceiling, making a loud creak. Teio froze, her imagination abandoning Rudolf entirely.

Teio: (squealing, clinging to Yasuaki like a koala) N-No! I… I can’t! I… it’s too scary!

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, hiding a grin) Haha, I thought thinking about Rudolf would help? Looks like she didn’t quite make the cut.

Teio: (pouting, still pressed to him) I… I tried… but… the ghost is… really real! And Rudolf… can’t… fight this!

Yasuaki: (pretending to look serious, crouching to her level) Teio, Rudolf may be fast and strong on the track, but even she can’t punch ghosts out. That’s why we have… me.

Teio: (blinking, confused, then giggling through her fear) You… mean… you’ll save me?

Yasuaki: (smiling gently)Exactly. You stick close to me, and nothing will touch you. Rudolf would approve, you know—she’d want her little fan to be safe.

Teio buried her face against Yasuaki’s shoulder again , half-squeaking in fear as the fog rolled over them. The decorations swayed eerily: hanging ghosts, fake spiders dropping from the ceiling, and glowing jack-o’-lanterns with sharp grins.

Teio: (muffled, whispering)I… I can’t… it’s too scary… even if I think about Rudolf… she… she wouldn’t like this either!

Yasuaki: (chuckling, gently nudging her back)Then let’s do it like this—Rudolf is cheering for you, and I’m here. You hold onto me, and we get through the scary parts together. Deal?

Teio: (hugging him even tighter, blinking back tiny tears of relief and fear)D-Deal… but… you have to promise not to let the ghosts get me!

Yasuaki: (smiling, leaning down slightly) Yeah. I won’t let a single ghost touch you—ever, in my entire life.

Teio relaxed slightly, though her tiny hands still clung tightly to his sleeve. Step by careful step, Yasuaki led her through the last corridors of the escape room. A skeleton swung overhead, and she squeaked again, burying her face in his shoulder—but this time, she trusted him enough not to panic completely.

When they finally reached the exit, bright lights greeted them, casting long shadows and making the fog seem to dissipate ,The staff cheered softly as they handed each child a small bag of candy.

Staff Member: Congratulations! You made it through the Halloween Escape Room!

Teio: (blinking up at Yasuaki, eyes wide, candy in hand, still clutching him) We… we did it! We really… really did it!

Yasuaki: (ruffling her hair, grinning) Of course we did. I told you, didn’t I? Ghosts are nothing but costumes. You were brave… even if you squeaked a lot.

Teio: (laughing nervously, hugging him one last time before loosening her grip) I… I guess I was brave… but… ghosts are still scary! And Rudolf… would still have run faster than them all!

Yasuaki: (laughing softly, letting her take a bite of her candy) Yeah, yeah. Rudolf would’ve probably zoomed past all of them.

The festival lights glowed warmly as they stepped out into the cool night air. Teio skipped ahead with her candy bag bouncing at her side, still keeping close enough to glance back at Yasuaki for reassurance.

──────────

[ Present] 

The corridors of Tracen Academy buzzed with energy. Orange streamers hung from the ceiling, jack-o’-lanterns lined the halls, and Uma Musume darted past carrying props and costumes. The whole place smelled faintly of pumpkin sweets and candle wax.

Yasuaki walked down the corridor with his usual calm stride, his hands tucked into his pockets. Beside him skipped his younger sister, Yayoi, practically bouncing with energy as she looked at every decoration.

Yayoi: (grinning,fanning herself)Ta-da~! Amazing, right? The Halloween festival’s gonna be bigger than ever this year! And guess who came up with the idea?

Yasuaki: (flat, hands in his pockets)…And it took some of the school savings that I worked to fund  to make it happen.

Yayoi: (gasping, then putting her hands on her hips, pretending to be offended)Ugh, you make it sound like I wasted it! It’s called investing in school spirit, big brother. Everyone’s gonna love it!

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, unimpressed)Investing, huh? So if this flops, are you going to refund the budget out of your allowance?

Yayoi: (sticking her tongue out, giggling) Nope! But it won’t flop, because I am in charge. And you know when I set my mind to something, it works out.

Yasuaki: (sighing, but with a faint smirk tugging at his lips) …You’re dangerously confident for someone who still can’t cook rice without burning it.

Yayoi: (playfully stomping her foot, cheeks puffed) H-hey! That was one time! Don’t compare my director skills to my cooking skills!

Yasuaki: (chuckling, shaking his head)Well… we do have to thank Tazuna for doing your paperwork while you interact with the class exhibits. That’s impressive, at least.

Yayoi: (grinning)See? I told you I can focus on the important stuff! 

Yasuaki: (glancing down at the bright red armband suddenly strapped across his sleeve)…However…

He raised his arm, staring at the words printed in bold letters: “HALLOWEEN PATROL – DO NOT SKIP”.

Yasuaki: (mutters, annoyed)…But why the hell must I be on patrol duty?

Yayoi: (tilting her head, innocently cheerful)Well… someone has to replace Tazuna right? She’s busy helping me with all the paperwork today , and… well, you’re already here. So you’re the lucky one!

Yasuaki: (groaning, muttering under his breath while looking at the armband again) Lucky… yeah, lucky to be walking the hallways like a security guard instead of enjoying my time at the festival…

Yayoi tilted her head, sensing the faint tinge of jealousy in her older brother’s voice.

Yayoi: (teasing gently)Jealous, onichan? Are you jealous because you wanted to join the fun too?

Yasuaki: (sighing deeply, rubbing the back of his neck)…Maybe a little. But… it’s fine. You should have fun today, anyway.

He yawned, letting his shoulders slump slightly as he leaned against the wall, glancing down the corridor. The truth was, he had orchestrated this situation in a way. He had asked Tazuna to handle Yayoi’s paperwork on her special festival day but on one condition: he would take patrol duty himself. In other words, he had neatly sabotaged his own enjoyment so that his little sister could have the spotlight, without her ever knowing.

Yayoi: (cheerfully)Alright! Thanks for helping, big brother! I’ll see you later after you finish your rounds! Don’t get lost in the accdemy or scare any students, okay?

Yasuaki: I am not going to get lost in mother accdmy, and what do you mean by scare?

Yayoi: (grinning) Scare? Oh, you know… don’t go startling the students with that serious patrol face of yours! Some of them might mistake you for a ghost or one of the teachers in a costume.

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, dryly)…A ghost, huh? And here I thought I was just doing my job.

Yayoi: (giggling, spinning around)Yeah, but you have that mysterious vibe, big brother! If you suddenly appear behind someone in these dimly lit halls, they might scream! And you know what? I love seeing everyone’s reactions, but I also don’t want anyone actually crying because of you.

Yasuaki: (mutters, adjusting his jacket)…I’ll try to restrain my ghostly aura, then.

Yayoi: (excitedly, bouncing again)Good! Because I can’t wait to visit the candy booth, the pumpkin carving station, and oh! The haunted library room,they’ve got the coolest decorations this year! I even made a list so I don’t miss a single one.

Yasuaki: (half-smiling, glancing at her notebook)…You’ve planned this in detail, haven’t you?

Yayoi: (nodding vigorously)Of course! This is my festival! I have to see it all! And you… you have to keep your patrol duties short so I can drag you along later.

Yasuaki: (sighing, though his lips twitched into a faint smirk)…I see. So my heroic efforts now are just an investment in your sightseeing schedule.

Yayoi: (laughing)Exactly! You’re basically my personal festival assistant! Come on, don’t act like you don’t enjoy this a little. You always love seeing everyone happy, right?

Yasuaki: (looking down the hallway, voice quieter)…I do. That’s true.

Yayoi: (grinning and grabbing his sleeve)Then hurry up with your rounds! I’ll be exploring every single booth, and I’ll expect you to meet me for the finale at the main hall. Don’t even think about skipping it, you have to see what I’ve prepared!

Yasuaki: (letting out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck)…Fine. I won’t get lost in this academy, and I’ll try not to scare anyone… though I can’t promise I’ll stay completely unnoticed.

Yayoi: (clapping her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement)Yay! That’s the spirit! Now go patrol and be careful, big brother! I’ll be seeing all the spooky fun soon!

As she dashed down the hallway toward the first booth, Yasuaki leaned against the wall for a moment longer, watching her go. The sound of her laughter and the jingling of her little costume charms echoed through the decorated corridors, filling the quiet spaces with life.

He exhaled, shoulders relaxing despite the armband strapped firmly across his sleeve. Even if he had sacrificed his own fun for today, seeing Yayoi’s happiness—and knowing she had full freedom to explore the festival—was more than enough reward.

Yasuaki: (muttering under his breath with a faint smile)…Worth it. Always worth it

──────────

Yasuaki approached the first classroom on his patrol route, the door flung open to reveal the cheerful chaos of a Halloween-themed café. The warm glow of orange lanterns and the faint scent of pumpkin spice drifted out into the corridor. Inside, they  clearly gone all out, tables decorated with fake cobwebs, plates stacked with themed treats, and a corner set up for “spooky” drink orders complete with dry ice mist curling around mugs.

Haru Urara bounded forward the moment she spotted him, her energetic smile impossible to ignore.

Haru Urara: (cheerfully) Yasuaki-sensei! You came! Look, we’ve set up a Halloween café! Isn’t it amazing?

Yasuaki: (nodding, hands tucked into his pockets) It’s… quite impressive. You’ve clearly been busy.

Rice Shower hovered a little behind the counter, nervously adjusting a napkin. Her cheeks flushed at his gaze, and she fidgeted with a small stack of themed pastries.

Rice Shower: (softly, almost whispering) Y-Yasuaki-sensei… I… I hope… um, I arranged everything okay…?

Yasuaki: (calmly, a small smile tugging at his lips) It looks fine, Rice Shower. Everything is in order. No mistakes that I can see.

Rice Shower blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly. A tiny warmth spread across her cheeks.

King Halo, meanwhile, stood tall behind the main table, hands clasped gracefully in front of her. Her eyes gleamed with pride, as she look at him.

King Halo: (regally) Yasuaki-sensei, welcome. I trust everything is… satisfactory?

Yasuaki: (dry, but with a faint smirk)It’s more than satisfactory. The decorations, the layout… very organized. And the theme fits perfectly.

King Halo: (slightly flustered, muttering)Hmph… I merely strive for excellence… as always.

Haru Urara: (bouncing excitedly)And we’ve got treats for everyone! Yasuaki-sensei, you have to try one! We even made some carrot cupcakes just for you!

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow)Carrot cupcakes… for me, huh?

Rice Shower: (shyly)I-I tried to… make them cute too…

Yasuaki: (patting her shoulder lightly)They’re fine. Cute works. And effort counts more than anything.

Rice Shower: (blinking, flustered)O-Oh… t-thank you, Yasuaki-sensei…

King Halo: (clearing her throat, trying to hide her smile)And… if you’re not busy with your rounds, perhaps you could stay a while. I assure you, everything is… ready for our esteemed visitors.

Yasuaki: (shaking his head lightly) Nah, I’m busy with my rounds. I’ve got to stroll by the other booths soon.

He gave a small, polite nod toward the trio, his gaze calm but assessing.

Yasuaki: (continuing) Maybe you three should take some time to discuss with your classmates what to do to raise your booth’s popularity. I heard that the winning booth gets an extra school fund   for the next school trip.

Haru Urara: (eyes widening, bouncing excitedly) Really!? Extra fund? Then we have to make this the best Halloween café ever!

King Halo: (hohoho, almost melodious) I anticipated this… I heard the rumor about the extra fund,  after all. Naturally, I prepared in advance.

Haru Urara blinked, her bounce faltering slightly as she tilted her head.

Haru Urara: (confused) …Prepared? What do you mean, King?

King Halo: (smiling subtly, eyes glinting) I sent a request ahead… to recruit a senior who is currently unassigned and free. Someone capable of helping us… elevate our café’s appeal.

Rice Shower: (murmuring, eyes wide)A… a senior…? Here?

Before either of them could process it, a soft raffling sound came from the back of the classroom. 

Haru Urara: (jumping back, squeaking) W-Who’s there!?

Rice Shower: (eyes wide, whispering)I-I… don’t know… but… that sound… it’s… unusual…

Yasuaki, leaning slightly against a table while observing the café setup, tilted his head toward the curtain, listening to the commotion.

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, muttering)Sounds like someone is… less than cooperative.

From behind the curtain came a flurry of muffled, sharp words and what could only be described as a minor struggle.

Muffled voice 1: N-Nee, I refuse! I am not wearing this…!

Muffled voice 2: (cheerfully, almost robotic in tone)Resistance is… statistically inefficient. Your parameters indicate a 97% compliance probability… now wear the costume.

Haru Urara and Rice Shower exchanged glances, their eyes growing wider by the second. The curtain fluttered slightly as if something—or someone—was about to burst out.

Yasuaki: (quietly, leaning closer)Hmm… I recognize these voices.but now it makes sense why King Halo would send someone from a class that’s free.

The muffled scuffle continued, punctuated by occasional clinks and huffs of protest.

Muffled voice 1: I said no! This is… humiliating!

Muffled voice 2:(matter-of-factly)Humiliation is relative. Emotional satisfaction index will increase upon compliance. Prepare for optimal outcome.

Finally, the curtain was pushed aside, and the pair emerged. One, still slightly flustered and red-faced, was clearly resisting the outfit but clearly lost the fight—Narita Taishin herself, glaring but unable to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Her arms crossed as she walked out, muttering under her breath, embarrassed beyond belief.

The other, perfectly composed with a subtle, almost otherworldly aura, held the final pieces of the costume and adjusted it with meticulous care, Neo Universe. Her bright, unblinking eyes scanned the room as if calculating multiple variables at once.

Neo Universe: (tilting her head slightly, voice airy and precise)Spatial alignment achieved. Subject parameters… acceptable. 

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow, quietly, almost amused)I see. So that’s how it went down.

Haru Urara: (eyes widening, pointing) Ah! It’s Narita-senpai… and Neo-chan!

Rice Shower: (softly, blushing, whispering)Y-Yeah… I… I didn’t expect them to be here…

Narita Taishin: (still crossing her arms, cheeks burning)I… I can’t believe King Halo actually sent her to… make me do this…

Neo Universe: (tilting her head, voice calm and precise)Compliance confirmed. Emotional fluctuation within expected parameters… optimal for maximum social engagement.

Yasuaki: (leaning slightly against the table, a faint smirk tugging at his lips)Seems like King Halo anticipated this well in advance. She knew your class wasn’t participating, so she sent Neo to… “recruit” you.

King Halo let out a soft, regal laugh, a light hohoho that carried both amusement and pride.

King Halo: (smiling, hands clasped gracefully) Hohoho… with Narita’s small frame and  guidance, I daresay this café will attract customers in no time.

Narita’s cheeks flared red the instant her gaze landed on Yasuaki. She froze mid-step, clutching the edges of the maid outfit she had been forced into, her usual aloof composure cracking under the sudden, intense embarrassment.

Narita: (muttering under her breath, voice flustered) I… I can’t believe… Yasuaki-sensei… is here…

King Halo, clearly savoring the scene, lifted her chin with a noble air and folded her hands together.

King Halo: (smiling gracefully) Well then, Yasuaki-sensei… what do you think of our little idea? Surely this will score our class some popularity points, don’t you agree?

All eyes turned toward him. Yasuaki, normally unshakable, found his gaze drifting anywhere but Narita’s flushed face.

Yasuaki: (glancing aside, voice even but softer than usual) …There will definitely be some fans who’ll like it. A setup like this is bound to draw attention.

He paused, stealing a quick look at Narita before averting his eyes again.

Yasuaki: (clearing his throat lightly) …And… the clothes… fit her.

Narita’s blush deepened instantly, her fingers tightening on the hem of the outfit as if it were the only thing keeping her from bolting out the door.

Narita: (quietly) D-Don’t say it like that…

Rice Shower: (whispering to Urara) I-I’ve never seen Narita-senpai… react like this before…

Haru Urara, meanwhile, bounced on her toes with sparkling eyes.

Haru Urara: (giggling excitedly) Wahh~! Sensei complimented her! Narita-senpai, you look amazing!

King Halo, unable to suppress her triumphant smile, let out another soft laugh.

King Halo: (with a regal chuckle) Hohoho… as expected. A perfect choice. I knew this would work splendidly.

Neo Universe, who had been meticulously adjusting the props on the counter.

Neo Universe: (softly)Synchronization achieved. Popularity trajectory stable and promising. Mission success probability high.

Yasuaki exhaled through his nose, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He straightened.

Yasuaki: (calmly, voice steady) …Well then, I’ll excuse myself here. I still have patrol rounds to finish.

He glanced briefly at the four of them—Urara’s eager grin, Rice’s anxious little nod, King Halo’s satisfied smile, and Narita’s stubbornly averted face still tinged with red. Neo, of course, was tilting her head as though measuring invisible constellations.

Yasuaki: (with a faint, encouraging smile) Do your best to make this café stand out. I’ll be rooting for your class to win the popularity vote.

Haru Urara: (bouncing excitedly) We will, sensei! Just wait—you’ll see!

Rice Shower: (softly, murmuring) …We’ll… try our hardest.

King Halo: (regally, with pride) You may rest assured, sensei. Victory is already within our grasp.

Narita: (grumbling under her breath, flustered) Tch… don’t say it like that…

Yasuaki lingered only long enough to let their reactions settle before turning toward the hall, raising a hand in a casual wave.

Yasuaki: (over his shoulder) I’ll see you all tonight—for the test of courage.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving a brief hush in the café.

Haru Urara: (tilting her head, blinking fast) Test of courage? Huh? I don’t remember seeing that on the festival schedule! Do you, Rice?

Rice Shower glanced up from where she was nervously fiddling with her hands, her soft voice steady but quiet.

Rice Shower: (softly, thoughtful) No… it’s not part of the official program. That’s because… it’s something Team Spica arranged. They decided to host it after the festival ends.

Urara gasped and leaned in closer, practically bouncing against her friend’s shoulder.

Haru Urara: (excited, clutching Rice’s sleeve) Really!? Then… that means we’re invited too!?

Rice nodded, her soft voice carrying just enough volume to reach the others.

Rice Shower: Mm. Gold Ship said… “the more, the merrier.” So they invited our whole team to join them. It’ll be in the dark forest by the back trails.

Urara: (beaming, eyes sparkling) Wahh~! That sounds sooo fun! A spooky forest, after a festival,this is perfect!

Rice gave a tiny smile despite herself, the corners of her lips lifting as she watched Urara’s enthusiasm. They bumped shoulders gently.

Meanwhile, King Halo cleared her throat, folding her arms across her chest and putting on her best noble expression.

King Halo: (with a composed laugh, though her eyes flickered) Hohoho… a mere forest at night? Child’s play. Ghosts and tricks do not frighten me in the slightest.

But the faint tremor in her voice betrayed her. Urara tilted her head in confusion, but Narita’s sharp eyes caught it instantly. A sly smirk spread across her face.

Narita: (leaning slightly closer, voice low and teasing) Hah. What’s this? Don’t tell me you’re actually afraid, King Halo.

King Halo’s eyes widened, and she quickly turned her head with a too-quick scoff.

King Halo: (defensive, voice a touch higher than usual) Nonsense! I am a refined lady—ladies of class do not fear silly ghost stories!

Narita: (smirking wider, arms crossing) Heh. Sure. Whatever you say.

King Halo: (straightening, forcing another laugh) Hohoho… you’ll see. I shall walk through that forest with grace and dignity. No shrieks, no hesitation.

But her eyes darted away for a second, betraying her nerves. Narita caught it, smirk deepening as she leaned back against the wall.

Narita: (muttering, smug) This is going to be fun.

Urara, oblivious to the tension, bounced happily in place and clasped Rice’s hands.

Haru Urara: (grinning ear to ear) Then it’s settled! We’ll go together after the festival! Rice, you’ll stay close to me, right?

Rice Shower: (soft smile, nodding shyly)…Of course. Always.

Neo Universe tilted her head slightly, her bright eyes scanning the classroom with calm precision.

Neo Universe: (softly) Regarding the test of courage… I overheard from Gold Ship that it will be conducted in duos. Teams will enter the forest every fifteen minutes. Partners are determined by randomly drawing a string; the person who grasps the other end becomes your teammate.

Haru Urara’s eyes sparkled with excitement, bouncing slightly on her toes.

Haru Urara: (giggling) Wow! That sounds… amazing! And scary… but fun!

Rice Shower’s ears perked up at the mention of partners.

Rice Shower: (softly, almost whispering) …If… if we get paired with him…

King Halo raised an eyebrow, her usual composure softening for just a fraction. Her mind was already calculating the possibilities, her sharp eyes glancing toward Yasuaki as well.

King Halo: (thoughtful, voice low) …This could be a rare opportunity… to walk the course with him.

Even Narita, who had been trying to mask her flustered embarrassment from the earlier maid outfit incident, smirked slightly, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and anticipation.

Narita: (quiet, almost teasing) Heh… looks like the universe is giving us our chance.

Neo Universe: (nodding slightly, expression neutral) Optimal emotional engagement and team synchronization… probability of enjoyable outcomes is high.

Urara: Rice… maybe we’ll get to go together too!

Rice Shower: (blushing faintly, mumbling) I… I hope so…

King Halo clapped her hands once, regaining her poised, noble demeanor, though her subtle inner excitement lingered.

King Halo: Hohoho… but first, we must focus. The café will not run itself. We need to get ready and make sure everything is perfect before the customers arrive. Popularity points won’t earn themselves, after all.

Haru Urara clapped her hands, practically vibrating with excitement.

Haru Urara: Let’s do this! Rice, we can make this the best Halloween café ever!

Rice Shower: (nodding, her soft voice steady) Yes… let’s make sure everything is just right.

The trio immediately began organizing the café with their classmates. Tables were lined with Halloween-themed cloths, small decorative pumpkins were placed just so, and trays of snacks—caramel apples, mini sandwiches, and cupcakes, were arranged with care.

Narita (NTR),Today, she carefully directed students, placing signs in the optimal positions and checking that each tray was neatly aligned, Alright, everyone! Let’s make this café perfect. We want every visitor to feel welcome,and impressed!...Vega, can you make sure the pumpkin display stays steady? We don’t want it tipping over when the first customers come in.

Admire Vega: (nodding, neutral) Already accounted for. Stability maintained.

Meanwhile, Narita taishin , flustered but focused in her maid outfit, moved with quiet efficiency alongside them, helping to set tables and distribute decorations. Though embarrassed, she carefully mirrored the confident steps of Narita (NTR), trying not to falter in front of her classmates or Yasuaki who she knew was still somewhere on patrol.

──────────

Yasuaki moved steadily along the festival corridors. His presence was calm but vigilant, an unspoken reassurance for everyone around him. Orange lanterns swayed gently in the autumn breeze, their warm glow mingling with the faint scent of caramel and roasted chestnuts.

He checked the stability of hanging decorations and ensured that any loose cords or stray mats were corrected. A group of visitors, families with excited Uma Musume and younger students in tow, passed by. Yasuaki offered a polite nod, occasionally pointing out small safety concerns, a precariously stacked tray of treats here, a slightly sagging string of lights there but never lingering long. His role was clear, maintain order and prevent accidents without drawing unnecessary attention.

A little further, he guided a cluster of younger students away from a crowded area where a few excited visitors had stopped to photograph the displays. They giggled and waved, calling out his name, but Yasuaki simply smiled faintly and motioned them along.

He checked the corridors leading to the food stalls and activity booths, making sure walkways were clear, exits unblocked, and that none of the smaller Uma Musume were struggling to navigate the crowd. Every interaction was short and efficient—polite, reassuring, but purposeful. Trainers and students alike acknowledged him naturally, calling out, "Trainer Yasuaki," as they passed.

( After the end of the festival) 

Back in their classroom, Urara’s group gathered in a mix of cheer and quiet disappointment. Despite their best efforts, their Halloween café had not won the extra school field fund for popularity.

Haru Urara: (pouting slightly but still smiling) Aww… we didn’t win…

Rice Shower: (softly, offering a small smile) …But it was really fun. We worked together, and we… laughed a lot.

King Halo: (nodding, though her usual composure was softened by the day’s excitement) Hoho… yes. Even without the fund, the café was a success in its own way.

Narita Taishin: (adjusting her outfit, trying to hide her embarrassment) At least… we did our best. That counts for something.

Neo Universe: (calmly, tilting her head) Emotional engagement metrics—high. Overall satisfaction, optimal. Outcome. successful, despite lack of material reward.

The girls shared small smiles, leaning on the simple joy of working together and enjoying the festival.

Outside, Pervert Senpai’s eccentric energy filled the air as he brought his mini bus around. His team , Gold Ship, Vodka, Scarlet Daiwa, Silence Suzuka, special week, McQueen, and Teio—clambered aboard, chattering excitedly. 

Lumina’s group—Haru Urara, Neo Universe, Rice Shower, Narita Taishin, and King Halo followed close behind, their laughter mingling with the hum of the bus engine.

Pervert Senpai: (grinning broadly, clapping his hands) Alright, everyone! Strap in! We’re heading to our next adventure! Don’t worry, Lumina, you’ll have plenty of fun on the way.

The bus hummed along quiet streets outside the academy, streetlights flickering over the excited faces of Lumina and Team Spica. Inside, the atmosphere was lively yet cozy. Gold Ship teased McQueen relentlessly, while she clutched her sweets, muttering about manners.

Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka argued as usual, Scarlet’s disciplined tone clashing with Vodka’s carefree interruptions, though occasional smiles betrayed their mutual respect. Silence Suzuka watched quietly, her calm presence grounding the group.

Tokai Teio bounced between conversations, sharing stories and shrieking at imaginary ghosts, making everyone laugh. Haru Urara and Rice Shower whispered plans and giggled together, while King Halo maintained her regal composure, occasionally laughing nervously. Neo Universe muttered about strategies, studying the group with her analytical focus.

Pervert Senpai drove confidently, shouting playful instructions over the hum of the engine. Conversations flowed tales of past races, playful rivalries, and whispered strategies turning the journey itself into a small adventure.

As the bus finally approached the destination, anticipation grew. The vehicle slowed, winding down a narrow, dimly lit road surrounded by dense forest. The chatter quieted to murmurs of excitement, small gasps as trees loomed overhead, and soft shuffles as everyone gathered their belongings. Lumina’s group and Team Spica filed out of the bus, stretching and looking around expectantly.

Haru Urara: (peering around) Where’s Yasuaki-sensei? He said he’d meet us…

Rice Shower: ( adjusting her bag) …I thought he’d be here too…

The group shuffled on the gravel path, the cool evening air carrying the faint rustle of trees. Just as a trace of unease began to spread, the distant growl of an engine echoed from deeper down the road. Heads turned, ears perked. The sound grew louder—steady, powerful—until the beam of a motorcycle headlight broke through the twilight gloom.

The sleek black bike rolled to a smooth stop near the group, dust kicking up around its tires. Yasuaki removed his helmet with his usual calm, running a hand through his messy hair. Behind him, Yayoi hopped lightly off, her eyes bright with excitement as she stretched her arms.

Yayoi: (cheerful, grinning) And we made it right on time~!

Before Yasuaki could speak, Gold Ship stepped dramatically forward, hands on her hips, her grin as wide as ever.

Gold Ship: (loud and playful)Perfect timing, Trainer Yasuaki! You’re just in time for my genius idea! Tonight’s not just a stroll through some spooky woods—oh no, no, no! I’ve set the stage for the ultimate Test of Courage!

The others blinked, glancing at each other in confusion.

Vodka: (raising a brow)Tch, what are you scheming this time, Gold Ship?

Daiwa Scarlet: (crossing her arms, sighing)This better not be one of your reckless pranks…

Gold Ship waved her hands dramatically, her eyes gleaming.

Gold Ship: (grinning) Oh, but it is! I enlisted some of our fellow Uma Musume—don’t worry, volunteers—to play ghosts along the path. They’ll pop out here and there to scare the pants off anyone who dares to walk through the forest. It’ll be in pairs, of course, because everyone knows being alone is terrifying!

McQueen’s elegant composure faltered instantly.

McQueen: (clutching her bag of sweets tightly, voice trembling)W-What!? G-Ghosts…? Absolutely dreadful…!

Tokai Teio: (half-excited, half-nervous, her voice pitching high)H-hold on! W-we’re really doing this? 

Yasu adjust his glove as he look at Teio with a knowing look .

Yasuaki: (dryly, with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips) Did you not know what you were getting into before you tagged along, Teio? You’ve been like this since we were kids.

Tokai Teio: (pouting, cheeks puffing, her voice cracking just slightly)Y-Yasu! Don’t say it like that in front of everyone! I-I’m not that bad!

Yasuaki let the moment linger before turning his gaze to Pervert Senpai, who was practically glowing with pride at the chaos already brewing.

Yasuaki: (flat, raising a brow)…Your trainee really is bizarre. Who else would think of turning a night walk into a full-blown ghost parade?

Pervert Senpai only shrugged, his grin wide and unbothered, shoulders lifting in that casual way of his.

Pervert Senpai: (half-laughing)She’s doing anything but training, but hey—if it keeps the team lively, I’m not complaining. Gold Ship’s chaos is… productive chaos.

Almost on cue, Gold Ship bounded forward with theatrical flourish, a polished wooden case in her hands. She snapped it open like a magician revealing a trick, inside neatly arranged sticks with markings at the ends.

Gold Ship: (grinning ear to ear) Ta-da! The sacred lottery of fate! Each stick holds your destiny, your partner for the night! We’ll head into the forest every fifteen minutes, one pair at a time. If you make it through and reunite at the far side, congratulations  you’ve survived the gauntlet!

Urara: (bouncing with excitement) Ooooh, this sounds fun!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, murmuring) Or reckless…

Still, the sticks were passed around, each Uma Musume drawing hers carefully or in some cases, nervously. Yasuaki watched in silence, hands in his pockets, until the last pairings were read aloud.

Gold Ship: (dramatic flair, voice carrying like a ringmaster)Alright, here’s the lineup!

Haru Urara drew the same marking as Yayoi, who beamed brightly at the chance to tag along with her brother’s student.

McQueen clutched her stick tight, paling when she realized her partner was Tokai Teio—both of them exchanging uneasy, ghost-fearing glances.

Silence Suzuka glanced at her stick calmly, paired with none other than Pervert Senpai, who laughed as if the heavens themselves had blessed him.

Vodka and Daiwa Scarlet locked eyes, groaning in unison.

Vodka: (gritting her teeth) Great. Just great.

Daiwa Scarlet: (snapping back)Don’t start, Vodka!

Gold Ship twirled her stick proudly, looking over to find Rice Shower clutching hers nervously.

Gold Ship: (leaning close, whispering with glee) Looks like I get to be your spooky guardian, Rice-chan!

Rice Shower: (flustered, stammering)M-my… guardian…?

King Halo smirked as her stick matched with Narita Taishin, barely able to contain her satisfaction.

King Halo: (chuckling, covering her nerves with bravado) Hohoho… splendid! A small partner to light my way. This will be no problem at all.

Narita Taishin: (smirking, low and sharp) …Afraid already, Halo? Don’t worry—I’ll make sure you scream first.

only a few sticks remained. Neo Universe plucked hers with deliberate precision, holding it up to the moonlight as though reading constellations etched on its surface.

Neo Universe: (soft, serene tone)…Trajectory alignment complete. It seems fate has tied me to you, Special Week.

Special Week’s face fell for just a moment, her smile slipping as her eyes darted toward Silence Suzuka, who was already paired with Pervert Senpai.

Special Week: (muttering, cheeks puffing slightly) …I was hoping to be with Suzuka-san…

Neo Universe: (tilting her head, curious) Emotional resistance detected… yet, possibilities remain infinite. Perhaps this pairing will yield unexpected resonance.

Special Week: (straightening, forcing herself to smile again)Y-you’re right! We’ll… make the best of it!

The last stick remained. Yasuaki reached into the case with little ceremony, his movements calm and unhurried. When he pulled it out, however, the tip was blank—unmarked, pairing him with no one.

Gold Ship: (leaning forward dramatically, eyes sparkling)Oooh~! Trainer Yasuaki draws the cursed blank! The lone wolf, entering the dark forest alone! Spooky~!

Haru Urara: (jumping in place, waving her arms)Eh!? That’s not fair! Yasuaki-sensei should’ve gotten a partner too!

Yayoi: (smiling knowingly, arms folded)…If it’s my brother, he doesn’t need one. He’ll be fine, Urara. Ghosts should be more scared of him, anyway.

Rice Shower: (softly, clutching her skirt) …Still, going in alone… that feels unfair…

Yasuaki: (waving it off, calm as ever) It’s fine. I’ll be the last to go in—walking behind the rest of you. If anything does happen, I’ll know right away.

His tone was so matter-of-fact that Rice fell silent, though she still looked uneasy. The others shifted about, checking their flashlights, their nerves either buzzing or fraying as the line of pairs started to form at the forest’s edge.

Yasuaki stepped aside as Haru Urara, bouncing excitedly, prepared to enter with Yayoi. Before they could head off, he placed a hand lightly on Urara’s shoulder.

Yasuaki: (quiet but firm) Urara. Keep an eye on Yayoi for me, alright? Make sure she makes it to the other side without tripping over herself.

Urara: (grinning, puffing her chest proudly) Leave it to me, Yasu! I’ll protect her!

Yayoi: (laughing, cheeks warming) H-hey! I should be the one protecting her!

The two scampered off into the trees, their flashlight beams weaving through the dark like playful fireflies. Yasuaki watched them go.

Yasuaki: (flat, muttering to himself) …This doesn’t feel like Halloween. Not the kind I remember, anyway.

He scanned the line of Uma Musume waiting their turn, nervous shuffling, awkward laughter, and exaggerated bravado everywhere he looked.

Yasuaki: (continuing, tone dry) Where are the pumpkin lanterns, the costumes, the candy? Instead, we’ve got a torch relay into a haunted forest, dreamt up by a trainee who thinks subtlety is for cowards.

His words, though spoken softly, reached McQueen and Teio standing nearby. Both girls clutched their flashlights tighter, McQueen trembling while Teio forced a shaky grin.

Teio: (muttering) …W-well, maybe it’s a new kind of Halloween tradition…?

McQueen: (grimacing) This feels more like military training than a celebration…

From further down the line, Gold Ship’s laugh rang out, bold and gleeful.

Gold Ship: (dramatic) That’s the spirit! Who needs costumes when you’ve got fear itself?

Gold Ship clutched Rice Shower’s hand tightly, her usual exuberance amplified by the shadows around them.

Gold Ship: (grinning, teasing) Alright, Rice-chan! Stick close, or I’ll drag you straight into the haunted heart of the forest!

Rice Shower: (blushing, voice trembling slightly) I-I’m right here! Please… don’t scare me too much…

Gold Ship: (mock salute) Fear not! Your spooky guardian is on duty!

Across the path, Scarlet and Vodka walked side by side, their bickering barely muted by the dense trees.

Vodka: (rolling her eyes) Scarlet, you better not chicken out halfway!

Scarlet: (snapping, flushed) Don’t start, Vodka! And don’t you dare try to run ahead!

Vodka: (smirking) I wouldn’t dream of it… maybe.

Nearby, Silence Suzuka’s expression remained unreadable as Pervert Senpai practically bounced with excitement beside her, clearly taking the test far more seriously than his stoic partner.

Pervert Senpai: (cheerful, nudging Suzuka gently) Trust me, Suzuka! You’ll love this! The forest has… personality!

Silence Suzuka: (deadpan) I hope its personality is not fatal.

Special Week’s flashlight bobbed nervously as she fell into step beside Neo Universe, who walked with a calm, analytical precision.

Neo Universe: (tilting her head slightly) Probability of optimal survival… high. Emotional support… optional.

Special Week: (cheerfully, though her voice wavered) W-well, I’ll be here to help, Neo! So… let’s… do our best!

Finally, King Halo took the first hesitant steps with Narita Taishin. The forest was darker than expected, the trees looming like sentinels. Halo’s usual regal composure faltered almost immediately, her heartbeat audible in the quiet night

King Halo: (stifling a laugh, trying to sound composed) H-hoho… I… I am… perfectly fine…

Narita: (smirking, voice low, teasing) Is that so, Halo? I hope you enjoy a little… payback.

Yasuaki, standing at the edge of the forest with his blank stick in hand, Ten minutes after Halo and Narita had entered.a sharp scream cut through the trees—Halo’s voice, high and flustered, carrying perfectly across the dark.

Yasuaki: That must be King Halo… Wonder what managed to get her screaming like that…

Another five minutes passed. Shadows shifted as the last pair prepared themselves , Mejiro McQueen and Tokai Teio.

Teio: (whispering, voice slightly high) …Yasu… we’ll see you at the other side, okay?

McQueen’s eyes flicked toward her, scanning for any hint of supernatural trickery in the forest’s darkness. Her grip tightened slightly on the flashlight.

McQueen: (soft, measured) …Yes. We’ll meet up there.

Yasuaki lingered by the treeline for a moment after Teio and McQueen disappeared into the darkness, their flashlight beams quickly swallowed by the dense forest. His eyes narrowed slightly, following the faint glow until it faded from view.

Yasuaki: (muttering to himself) …They’re rivals, but both terrible at hiding fear. I wonder if they’ll actually make it through without one of them crying out…

The night air was cooler now, brushing against his skin as though urging him onward. He exhaled, calm as ever, and pulled his own hand. 

the beam cut through the shadows, illuminating the winding path ahead.

Yasuaki: (flatly) Fifteen minutes alone. That’s… excessive.

He stepped into the forest, the crunch of dried leaves underfoot the only sound in the otherwise hushed night. The canopy above muffled the moonlight, making the glow of his flashlight the only trustworthy guide.

It didn’t take long before the tricks began.

A crudely placed paper lantern painted with a ghastly face swung from a low branch, its movement exaggerated by the faint breeze. Yasuaki paused, tilted his head slightly, then let out a slow breath.

Yasuaki: (dry tone) Gold Ship’s handiwork. Subtle as a hammer.

He brushed the lantern aside with the back of his hand and kept walking.

Further along, a rustle in the bushes made him stop. The sound grew louder, accompanied by a faint groan. From the undergrowth, a small Uma Musume in a white sheet sprang out, arms flailing.

“Boo!” she squeaked, her voice cracking with effort.

Yasuaki didn’t even flinch. He simply angled his flashlight down at her, revealing the nervous smile beneath the sheet.

Yasuaki: (calm, polite) …You’ll want to step back before you trip over that root.

The girl froze, realized she had indeed been standing right on top of a raised tree root, and awkwardly shuffled back before darting off into the shadows.

Yasuaki resumed his walk, the steady rhythm of his steps blending with the faint hum of night insects. His flashlight carved out a narrow path ahead, each tree trunk casting long, crooked shadows that stretched across the dirt. Despite the scares scattered along the way, his expression remained unreadable, half patient, half unimpressed.

Yasuaki: (muttering under his breath) …How long is this path meant to be? At this pace, I’ll be circling the entire mountain before I see the end.

He slowed as the dirt beneath his shoes grew firmer, leveling into what looked like an old stone pavement leading further into the woods. The air here felt different—cooler, heavier, as though the forest itself was holding its breath.

From the distance, a voice broke the silence.

???: (calling out, faint but clear) …Teio! Tokai Teio, where are you?!

Her elegant tone carried unease, tinged with a strain she rarely let others hear. Yasuaki tilted his head toward the sound, his flashlight beam sweeping left until it caught a glimmer of movement.

There she was—Mejiro McQueen, her usually flawless composure shaken, walking carefully along the pavement. Her posture was still straight, but her hands clutched the handle of her flashlight tighter than necessary. When her eyes caught the beam of Yasuaki’s light, she stiffened, relief breaking through her usual aristocratic mask.

McQueen: (breathing out, softly) …Trainer Yasuaki. Thank goodness.

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow) …Ah. McQueen, where’s Teio?

McQueen’s hands tightened slightly around her flashlight, her eyes darting toward the shadows beyond the stone pavement.

McQueen: (hesitant, lowering her voice) Well… about that…

Her words triggered a brief memory of the chaos that had led to their separation.

──────────

( Flashback)

Just before Yasuaki had entered, Teio and McQueen had found themselves side by side on the narrow path, each gripping a flashlight like a lifeline. The forest around them felt unnervingly alive—the branches swaying as though they were reaching for them, leaves rustling with every subtle gust of wind.

Teio: (whispering, voice shaky) …M-McQueen… I… I don’t like this…

McQueen: (calmly, though her own voice wavered slightly) …Just keep your focus. Nothing here is real…

But as they cautiously moved forward, a sudden footstep echoed from behind Teio. She stiffened, eyes wide, scanning the darkness for the source. Before she could react properly, she stumbled into something solid.

Teio: (squeaking) …Ah!

She spun around in panic, only to have McQueen’s flashlight inadvertently shine directly into her eyes. The sudden glare combined with the looming shadow behind it made Teio let out a piercing scream.

Teio: (screaming) G-Gh… ghost!

McQueen, startled by the sudden, frantic scream, swung her flashlight instinctively to the sound. The beam caught Teio’s panicked face in its light, and in that instant, McQueen’s own nerves betrayed her.

McQueen: (gasping, voice high) Wha—!?

Teio yelped again, her small hands slipping from the flashlight. In a blind panic, she let go of her flash light before  bolted from the pavement, her tiny feet crashing through the leaves and twigs off the marked path.

McQueen tried to give chase, but the sudden movement and darkness made it impossible to keep sight of Teio.

McQueen: (shouting) T-Teio! Wait!

Her voice bounced off the trees, but all that returned was the echo of Teio’s frightened footsteps fading into the forest. McQueen froze in place, flashlight still trembling in her hands, realizing she had lost her friend.

Teio, meanwhile, darted deeper into the forest, hearts pounding, convinced she was being pursued by some malevolent spirit.

──────────

(Back to present)

Yasuaki’s calm gaze remained fixed on McQueen as she recounted the incident.

Yasuaki: (dryly, almost amused) …So, in short… you two scared each other out of sight. Both convinced the other was a ghost.

McQueen’s cheeks warmed slightly, but she nodded, still clutching the flashlight like a shield.

McQueen: …Yes. That… sums it up.

Yasuaki exhaled softly, letting the faintest smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

Yasuaki: (calmly) …Well, you can go back and regroup with Pervert Senpai and the others. I’ll go find Teio. Knowing her… she’s probably shaking in fear somewhere without a flashlight.

McQueen’s hands twitched as if she wanted to protest.

McQueen: (hesitant, voice quiet but firm) …I can go with you. I can help.

Yasuaki shook his head gently, his tone polite but unwavering.

Yasuaki: (softly) …No need. It’ll be safer for you to regroup with everyone. I know you’re scared too, and if—by chance—I can’t find her quickly, I might need your backup from you guys.

McQueen bit her lip, eyes narrowing slightly as she weighed his words. She could see the logic, though it pricked at her pride. Finally, she nodded, though a faint tension remained in her posture.

McQueen: (quietly) …Understood, Trainer Yasuaki. Be careful.

Yasuaki: (nodding, voice calm) …I always am.

Yasuaki adjusted his flashlight, the narrow beam cutting through the thick shadows of the forest as he took the off-track path Teio had likely run down. The uneven roots and fallen leaves crunched softly beneath his boots, and he kept his senses alert, though his calm demeanor never faltered.

Yasuaki: (muttering to himself) …Alright, now… let’s find you before you trip over another root…

After a few steps, a mischievous idea struck him. 

Yasuaki: (calling out in an exaggerated, cheerful tone) …Hey! Fresh Hachimi! Cold, refreshing… perfect for a scared little ghost-chaser!

He paused, hearing only the rustle of leaves in response. He muttered under his breath, a dry edge to his words.

Yasuaki: (muttering, almost to himself) …What am I doing? Talking to her like some street vendor in a haunted forest… This isn’t going to work.

He straightened, flashlight still sweeping the path, and called out once more.

Yasuaki: (louder, slightly teasing) …Come on, Teio! Fresh Hachimi! Don’t make me drink it all myself—you know how much I hate wasting it!

Yasuaki’s flashlight cut through the shadows, his calm gaze scanning the uneven forest floor. As he called out again, a faint, shaky sound reached his ears—a soft rustle mixed with mumbling.

Yasuaki: (pausing, tilting his head) …That voice… is that…?

The closer he got, the clearer it became. Teio, trembling and clutching her arms around herself, was muttering a song he had taught her years ago, her small voice quivering through the dark.

Teio: (welling, voice shaking) …G-ghosts aren’t real… ghosts are a lie! A… a sleepy person… thought he saw a ghost… but… but it was just… just a… a shadow!

Her body trembled with small, uncontrolled shivers, the fear evident in her tiny frame. Each rustle of the leaves around her made her flinch, as though the forest itself were closing in.

Yasuaki’s footsteps were soft but deliberate as he closed the distance, his flashlight steady in his hand. The beam cut through the shadows, landing on the small, trembling figure of Teio.

Yasuaki: (gentle, with a teasing lilt) …Well, well… look what we have here. I finally whlere the ittle scary cat, wandering off into the forest.

Teio’s eyes widened as she spotted him, and before she could think, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Yasuaki’s waist.

Teio: (voice quivering, burying her face on his chest ) …It’s so dark… it’s really scary… I didn’t know where to go! I-I was so scared…

Yasuaki: (kneeling slightly, steadying her) …Teio… you ran off without your flashlight. That’s what made it worse. You can’t just disappear into the forest like that.

Teio stiffened at his words, her flushed face still pressed into his chest.

Yasuaki: (chuckling low, teasing) …Really now, Teio. How do you think the others would react if they saw the “proclaimed undefeated triple crown Uma” clinging to me like a terrified kitten in the dark?

Teio: (lifting her head just enough to pout, cheeks blazing red) …Y-Yasu! D-don’t say it like that! It’s not funny…!

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, amused) Not funny? Hm. To me, it’s hilarious. The mighty Tokai Teio, undone not by rival racers, but by a few shadows in the dark! 

Teio: (stammering, her grip tightening again) …T-that’s… that’s different! Racing isn’t scary—it’s exciting! But this… this forest… it feels like it’s watching me!

Yasuaki: (soft laugh, tapping her shoulder) …You’re hopeless. 

Yasuaki: (soft laugh, tapping her shoulder) …You’re hopeless. Let’s head back before McQueen sends the entire group searching for you.

Teio: (still clinging, muttering nervously) …S-she probably already thinks I got eaten by some… some forest spirit…

Yasuaki: (glancing down at her, amused) …Then let’s prove her wrong. Unless you’d rather stay out here and test that theory?

Teio: (eyes widening, shaking her head quickly) N-no! No, no, no! I’m coming with you!

She hurried up to his side but quickly slipped just behind him, clutching the back of his clothes  as if it were a lifeline. Her steps were small, careful, and every time the forest creaked, she pressed a little closer.

Teio: (soft, half-laughing, half-nervous) …This really reminds me of that spooky festival we went to when we were kids. Remember? They dressed the stalls with paper ghosts, and there was that tunnel with the hanging dolls…

Yasuaki: (snorting lightly, not breaking stride) …And you clung to me then, too. Nearly ripped the sleeve clean off my clothes.

Teio: (pouting, though her voice wavered) …W-well, it was dark! And creepy! And you didn’t look scared at all back then either.

Yasuaki: (glancing over his shoulder, smirking faintly) …Someone had to keep you from bolting into a candy stand.

Teio: (cheeks puffing, embarrassed) …T-that was one time!

She pressed closer, her forehead brushing against his back as if hiding her eyes from the thick shadows crowding the trail. Every time a branch snapped or an owl hooted, she tightened her grip on him.

Teio: (quietly, almost sheepish) …But… I guess some things don’t change. You’re still the one I end up clinging to whenever things get… scary.

Yasuaki: (calm, almost teasing) …Well, I did promise you that I wouldn’t let a single ghost touch you, after all.

Teio: (eyes widening, voice softening, surprised) …Y-Yasu… y-you remember that? From… when we were kids?

Yasuaki: (giving a faint, reassuring smile) …Of course I remember. Some promises aren’t meant to be forgotten.

Teio: (blinking, her grip on his clothes  loosening just a little) …H-Huh… I… I guess… that makes me feel a lot safer.

Step by careful step, they navigated the final stretch of the forest path. The faint glow of flashlights and the scattered echoes of their classmates’ laughter signaled they were nearing the other side. Soon, the forest opened up, revealing the rest of the group gathered in the clearing.

Pervert Senpai: (boisterous, teasing) …Well, it looks like my search party isn’t needed after all! I was just about to send everyone wandering through the trees to find you two, but… seems like someone’s already taken care of business.

Yasuaki: (flat, but with a faint smirk) …I didn’t exactly “take care of business,” I just followed the trail of a very scared ghost-chaser.

Teio, finally releasing her grip on his sleeve, let out a shaky breath and took a small step back, her face still tinged with pink from the lingering fear—and the comfort of being close to Yasuaki.

Haru Urara, bouncing excitedly nearby, tilted her head and laughed softly as she noticed just how tightly Teio had clung to Yasuaki during their final steps.

Haru Urara: (grinning, teasing) …Whoa! Teio, you were hanging on so tight, I thought Yasuaki-sensei was part of the forest!

Teio: (blushing, muttering) …I-I… I couldn’t help it… it was so dark…

Gold Ship, ever the dramatic one, flopped down onto a nearby log and waved her arms theatrically.

Gold Ship: (grinning, voice booming) …Oh, Teio! You should have seen McQueen! She was pacing back and forth, muttering to herself about how she couldn’t let her precious rival get lost in the forest! It was like watching a majestic horse trapped in a stable!

Teio: (smirking, teasing) …Really? So even McQueen gets scared… and she was worried about me? How… adorable.

McQueen: (blushing, adjusting her ribbon) …I-I was not pacing… I was carefully… surveying the area… to ensure your safety!

Teio: (laughing, nudging her gently) …Sure, sure, “surveying.” I’ll keep that in mind, McQueen. You’re not as icy as you pretend to be, huh?

McQueen: (flustered, looking away) …I-I was just… doing my duty. That’s all.

Urara, standing nearby, couldn’t help but giggle at the exchange.

Haru Urara: (cheerful) …Teio, you really are a little scaredy-cat, huh?

Teio: (pouting playfully) …Hey! I just… prefer to respect the forest’s… ambiance. Yeah, that’s it.

Gold Ship leaned closer to Teio with a conspiratorial grin.

Gold Ship: (whispering) …Don’t worry, Rice Shower was freaking out too! You all scared the poor thing half to death back there.

Rice Shower: (softly, hiding behind Neo Universe) …I-I… it was… scary…

Teio: (smirking) …See? I’m not the only one. McQueen included, too. You were all terrified, just like me.

McQueen: (clearing her throat, regaining composure) …It was… a test of endurance, not fear.

Teio laughed softly, her nerves easing, and gave McQueen a playful nudge.

Teio: (grinning) …You’ll have to try harder to hide it next time, McQueen.

Around them, the group was slowly settling, sharing quiet laughter and teasing remarks. Neo Universe observed with her usual calm, precise manner, while King Halo continued to chuckle nervously, still recovering from her earlier fright. Haru Urara and Rice Shower whispered excitedly about the adventure, and even Gold Ship flopped dramatically onto the grass, declaring herself the victor of bravery and candy collection.

Pervert Senpai clapped his hands, his energy infectious even as the night settled in.

Pervert Senpai: …A fine showing, everyone! Truly, a night to remember!

Yasuaki, standing a little apart, allowed himself a quiet smile, shaking his head at the mixture of panic, courage, and laughter. He glanced toward the horizon, where the sky had deepened into a star-speckled night.

Halloween chapter end...

Chapter Text

The library was hushed, the sort of silence that wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. Dust motes floated lazily in the shafts of morning sunlight streaming through tall windows, and the faint rustle of a turned page echoed as loudly as footsteps in the still air.

At one of the corner tables, Yasuaki Akikawa sat with his usual slouch, but his eyes betrayed none of his lethargy. They moved quickly, darting over the page with the sharpness of someone who missed nothing. In front of him, a mountain of books sprawled across the wooden surface, ranging from thick training manuals to slim journals filled with niche studies.

He had been at it for hours already.

Yasuaki: (murmuring under his breath) …Stride efficiency… hill resistance… pacing intervals…

Every now and then, he’d pause to jot something down in the weathered notebook lying open beside him. The pages were filled with a strange mix of scrawled notes, neat diagrams, and hastily drawn arrows connecting half-formed ideas. At a glance, it looked messy, but the way his pencil moved showed clear intent.

One book in particular had caught his attention, " Biomechanics of Equine Stride" . His brow furrowed slightly as he leaned in, his finger tracing a diagram of muscle engagement during incline running.

Yasuaki: (thinking inwardly ) Urara burns out on the first slope because she throws everything into the first burst. If I cut her pace into four controlled segments instead of two… she might just last to the top without collapsing.

He flipped the page, eyes narrowing at a section on recovery.

Yasuaki: (scribbling notes) …Active rest drills. Ten steps walk, twenty steps run. Rinse, repeat. …She’ll whine about it, but it’ll stick.

The corner of his mouth twitched, the faintest ghost of a smile. His thoughts moved on to the next.

He pulled another book closer "Psychological Patterns in Competitive Runners" and skimmed through until a chapter title made him stop,Isolation and Resilience. His gaze softened.

Yasuaki: (low voice) …Narita. Always running against herself more than anyone else. If I push too hard, she’ll just shut down. If I leave her alone, she’ll wallow. 

As he turned the page.

Yasuaki: (flatly, almost amused) …King Halo doesn’t need theory. She needs her pride stoked. A noble never performs without an audience. Keep her challenged, keep her watched. She’ll blossom.

His pencil tapped idly against the page, rhythmic, steady. His eyes turned distant, remembering Neo’s smooth stride from the mock race. He reached for "Advanced Pacing Strategies"  his hand flipping directly to a chapter on late-race bursts.

Yasuaki: (quietly, with a hint of admiration) …Neo runs like she already knows the finish line. No hesitation, no second-guessing. That confidence is dangerous. But if she’s wrong even once… it’ll cost her everything. I’ll need to build stamina drills that punish overconfidence without killing that instinct.

Yasuaki set down the notes on Neo with a faint tap of his pencil and pulled a new book from the pile , its spine worn, the gold lettering half-faded Endurance and Distance Conditioning in Turf Racers.

His eyes sharpened, the lazy gleam gone as he skimmed the index until his finger landed on the chapter for long-distance turf strategy. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

Yasuaki: (muttering) …Nikkei Sho. Twenty-five hundred meters. Rice  first real test on long turf.

The pencil started moving again, quick scratches across the notebook.

Yasuaki’s Notebook –

Rice Shower – Nikkei Sho Prep

Build stamina base with progressive long runs.

Incremental increases: start with 1,600 → 2,000 → 2,200 → 2,400.

Focus on stride economy, keep her rhythm steady. Panic breaks her form.

Late-race spurt training: simulate last 600m against faster rivals.

He flipped the page, eyes narrowing at a section on “psychological barriers in long-distance.” 

Yasuaki: (low, analytical) She’s small, quiet, never one to draw attention. That kind of girl gets overlooked at the gate. No one expects her to push, no one expects her to fight. But that’s exactly why she can surprise them.

He flipped a few more pages until his eyes landed on a section about split training: alternating bursts of high pace with controlled recovery strides to simulate distance without burning out.

Yasuaki: (scribbling into his notebook) …Ten sets. Eighty percent stride, short rest. Build tolerance. Get her lungs steady. If her body learns the rhythm, she won’t panic when the real thing drags on longer than she’s used to.

The pencil scratched across the page as he underlined “rhythm” twice, then closed his notebook with a soft snap. He stretched his arms lazily over his head, earning a few annoyed glances from the other library patrons, but he only offered a faint, unapologetic smile.

He slid the training manual back into order, then hesitated eyes narrowing at the title again. With a quiet hum, he tucked it under his arm along with another thick text on long-distance turf conditioning drills.

Walking up to the counter, Yasuaki set both books down with a dull thud.

Librarian: (peering over glasses) Heavy reading for a student your age. Trainer prep?

Yasuaki: (lazy grin) Something like that. Gotta keep up with my girls, or they’ll leave me behind.

The librarian stamped the books with a practiced hand, sliding them back to him.

Librarian: Just make sure they come back without mud stains, hm?

Yasuaki: (smirking) No promises.

With the books tucked under one arm and his notebook dangling in the other hand, Yasuaki shifted his weight lazily toward the counter again.

Yasuaki: (drawling) …Actually, you wouldn’t happen to have a bag for these, would you? Preferably one that doesn’t break my arm?

The librarian raised a brow but reached under the desk, sliding over a plain canvas tote with the library crest stitched in faded blue.

Librarian: You’re not the first trainer to bite off more than you can carry. Try not to overwork yourself before your students do.

Yasuaki: (half-smile) Heh. Thanks. I’ll add it to the training load.

Stuffing the thick manuals into the bag, he slung it over his shoulder and strolled out of the building.

and the tote tugged at his shoulder with the weight of several hundred pages of diagrams, drills, and strategies.

As he walked out  toward the mall district, the hum of the city swallowed him voices from shopkeepers calling out deals, the chatter of students finishing club activities, the faint scent of baked bread drifting from a corner stall. Yasuaki’s posture was his usual slouch, but his mind was anything but idle.

Yasuaki: (thinking, gaze drifting over the storefronts) Basic sprint drills, sure, but some of these methods go deeper. Conditioning through rhythm… fatigue resistance layered into split training...

He adjusted the strap of the tote with a grunt.

Yasuaki: (muttering) …Suppose I can’t just throw Rice into the fire and hope she comes out stronger. She needs precision. Structure. One wrong load, and it’s her spirit that’ll break before her body.

He passed a group of students huddled near a café window, laughing over parfaits. One or two glanced his way, recognizing him as “that young trainer with the sleepy eyes,” but Yasuaki only waved vaguely and kept moving.

As he kept walking, the sound of lively chatter and distant music from a nearby game store broke through the quiet rhythm of his thoughts

The glass doors swung open, and out stepped a familiar Uma Musume, clutching a black shopping bag tight to her side, a proud little grin lighting up her face.

???: (to herself, whispering) Finally… managed to get it. A whole month of saving wasn’t for nothing. Heh, take that, limited edition tag—

She held the game bag aloft in triumph—until a familiar, lazy voice floated from behind her.

Yasuaki: (half-smile) …Isn’t that—

She froze mid-step. The moment she heard his voice, Narita whipped around, eyes widening like a startled cat.

Narita: (stammering)

Y-Yasuaki-sensei?!

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) Fancy seeing you here, Narita. Didn’t peg you as the type to hang around game stores on your off days.

Narita: (flustered, trying too hard to sound calm) I-It’s not what it looks like! I just—uh—needed… uh… a gift! For… Urara! Yeah! She’s into… pixels and—stuff!

Yasuaki couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in amusement.

Yasaki: (lightly teasing) Urara’s many things, Narita… but do you really think she knows what a game is? She’s the type who’d rather chase pigeons in the park than sit still with a controller.

Narita stiffened, her tail flicking once in embarrassment as she avoided his gaze.

Narita: (defensive, muttering) W-well, maybe she wants to learn! You never know!

Yasuaki: (amused hum) Hm. Sure. And maybe King Halo’s going to take up skateboarding next.

That earned him a halfhearted glare from Narita, her cheeks still tinted pink. She huffed and turned her head away, clutching the GameStop bag even tighter behind her.

Narita: (grumbling) You really don’t let people off easy, do you, sensei?

Yasuaki tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction with that same lazy, knowing smile that always managed to get under her skin.

Yasuaki: (lightly) So… there’s no need to hide it, is there? The fact that you’re into gaming. It’s not exactly a crime, Narita.

Narita: (snapping) It’s not that! It’s just… weird, okay? I’m supposed to be this “cool-headed runner,” the one who doesn’t waste time on silly stuff. If people find out I spend my breaks on video games, they’ll—

She cut herself off, biting her lip as her voice trailed into a mumble.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow) …Judge you?

Narita: (quietly) Yeah. Something like that.

Yasuaki let out a slow hum, shifting the strap of his bag a little higher on his shoulder. He studied her for a moment — the way she avoided his gaze, the tension in her tail, the faint pout tugging at her lips. Then he sighed softly, voice turning a touch more genuine beneath the usual teasing tone.

Yasuaki: (calmly) You know, you’re allowed to have things you enjoy. Hobbies aren’t something to hide, Narita. They’re what keep you sane between races. You burn out if you spend every hour trying to be the “perfect racer.”

Narita: (hesitant) …Easy for you to say. You don’t get judged for every little thing you do.

Yasuaki: (half-smiling) You’d be surprised. People look at me and see “that lazy trainer who sleeps everywhere,” not the guy who spends half his free time digging through training manuals.

Her ears perked slightly at that, curiosity cutting through her embarrassment.

Narita: (tilting her head) You actually enjoy reading those?

Yasuaki: (shrugging lightly) More than it looks. It’s like a hobby in itself. I like finding new strategies, weird old theories… anything that might help you guys improve.

He said it so casually, almost lazily, but there was a quiet sincerity under his tone that made Narita blink. For a moment, she looked at him differently.

Narita: (muttering) You… really take all that seriously, huh?

Yasuaki: (smiling faintly) Of course I do. You think I drag myself out of bed every morning just for the glamour of getting kicked by my students?

Narita: (dryly) …You deserved that one, though.

Yasuaki: (grinning) Maybe. But it means I’m doing something right.

They walked side by side through the mall district, the hum of people and shop music weaving around them. A pair of kids ran past clutching crepes, and Narita glanced down, fidgeting slightly with the strap of her own bag before speaking again.

Narita: (quietly) Still… I didn’t think trainers cared that much. Most of them just yell times, shout corrections, and move on. You… actually look for new ways to help us get better.

Yasuaki: (shrugging, tone calm) That’s the job, isn’t it? If I don’t grow with the team, I’ll hold you all back. Can’t expect you to change if I don’t.

Narita’s tail flicked, her eyes softening a little as she stared straight ahead. After a moment, she mumbled something almost too quiet for him to hear.

Narita: (mumbling) …Thanks, sensei. For… y’know, putting that much thought into us.

Yasuaki’s brow arched slightly as he caught the faint tone in her voice, that hesitant gratitude buried under pride.

Yasuaki: (turning his head a little) Hm? What was that?

Narita: (immediately flustered, waving her hands) N-nothing! I didn’t say anything! You must be hearing things, sensei!

Then, as they continued walking, something on the corner caught his attention: a glowing row of neon lights and the faint sound of electronic chimes spilling out onto the street.

A small arcade , the kind packed with claw machines, rhythm games, and racing simulators.

Yasuaki slowed his pace, glancing through the glass window where a group of Uma Musume were laughing over a dance game. His gaze then flicked toward Narita, who had also stopped… and was very obviously pretending she hadn’t.

Yasuaki: (smirking) Huh. Didn’t know there was still an arcade around here.

Narita: (stiffly) I… I wouldn’t know. Never been inside one.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, genuinely surprised) You’ve never been to an arcade before?

Narita: (quickly defensive) N-not really my thing. I prefer console stuff. You know—quiet, no crowds, no flashing lights in your face every five seconds.

Yasuaki’s smirk deepened, his tone playfully teasing.

Yasuaki: (grinning) Huh. So the “lone wolf” prefers a controller and her peace. Figures.

Narita: (crossing her arms, muttering) Arcades are for… extroverts. People who actually like being watched while they play. It’s just—loud. Messy. And full of those types who think every claw machine’s a life-or-death event.

Yasuaki: (lightly) That sounds oddly specific. You sure you’ve never tried going in?

Narita’s ears twitched. She hesitated, glancing toward the glass door where the bright neon glow spilled onto the street. 

Narita: (mumbling) …Once. Tried to invite Winning Ticket and Biwa. Ticket said she was busy with errands, and Biwa had training plans.

She kicked the ground lightly with the toe of her shoe, trying to sound indifferent.

Narita: (grumbling) It’s not like I needed anyone to go with. But walking in alone… it just looks—sad. Like I’ve got no friends or something.

Yasuaki tilted his head, his usual lazy grin softening into something more thoughtful.

Yasuaki: (gentle) You know, there’s nothing wrong with going alone. Half the people in there are solo anyway. Some go to blow off steam, others to think, some just to escape a bit.

Narita: (deflecting) Yeah, well… not my style.

Yasuaki gave a small hum, rocking back slightly on his heels. Then, after a brief pause, his tone softened.

Yasuaki: (lightly) Well, I’ve got a lot of time to spare today. What about you? You could… accompany me to the arcade. Call it “trainer supervision,” if that makes it sound less awkward.

Narita blinked, caught off guard by the offer. Her ears twitched, and she shifted her weight awkwardly, trying to read whether he was serious or just teasing her again.

Narita: (skeptical) …You? The guy who spends half his time napping in your office?

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) I never said I didn’t like having fun. Besides, I’m curious to see the great Narita Taishin in her off-track competition mode.

Her tail flicked once.

Narita: (muttering) You make it sound like a race.

Yasuaki: (smiling) Everything’s a race if you want it to be.

That earned him a small, reluctant smile, though Narita quickly tried to hide it behind her usual cool expression.

Narita: (grumbling) You’re impossible, sensei. Don’t you have better things to do? Like… I don’t know, check in with your little sister? Director Yayoi might be waiting for you.

Yasuaki paused, the mention of his sister drawing a quiet sigh from him.

Yasuaki: (rubbing his neck, half-smile) …Heh. You’re not wrong. She probably is waiting. Might even have paperwork ready to throw at me for disappearing again.

Narita: (crossing her arms) Then shouldn’t you go back before she gets mad?

Yasuaki: (grinning lazily) Nah, she wouldn’t mind. It’s our break time, remember? Time to blow off some steam.

Before Narita could object, Yasuaki casually reached out and took her hand, giving it a light tug.

Narita: (startled) H-huh?! Sensei—what are you—?!

Yasuaki: (amused) Come on. Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been glancing at that arcade since we walked by.

Narita: (flustered) I-I was not! I was just—looking at the lights!

Yasuaki: (smirking) Sure. “Just looking.”

She huffed and turned away, but didn’t pull her hand back as he gently guided her through the sliding doors. The air changed instantly , filled with flashing lights, electronic jingles, and the rhythmic clatter of buttons.

Narita: (muttering, under her breath) This place is way too loud.

Yasuaki: (grinning) Yeah, but you’re still smiling.

Narita: (snapping) I’m not!

Yasuaki: (laughing softly) If you say so.

They walked up to the counter where a cheerful clerk, an Uma with a bright pink bob cut, greeted them with a practiced smile. Her nametag read Mina.

Mina (Clerk): (chirpy) Welcome to JoySprint Arcade! Here for a recharge? We’ve got a few promotions today!

Yasuaki pulled out his slim black arcade card, sliding it across the counter.

Yasuaki: (easygoing) Yeah, just top it up for a few rounds.

Mina: (grinning) Ooh, if you’re planning to play together, we’ve got a couple credit discount—double the tokens for shared play! It’s our “Bond Bonus” special today.

Narita froze.

Narita: (wide-eyed) C-couple—?!

Yasuaki: (blinking) Bond… what now?

Mina: (cheerful, oblivious) Yup! It’s great for friends, siblings, or, well, you know. Bonding experiences!

Narita: (frantically waving her hands) N-no, we’re not a couple! We’re just fri—

The words left his mouth with calm finality, matter-of-fact, like he was clarifying the weather. But Narita froze.

Her hand tightened around the shopping bag at her side as she looked away.

“Just friends,” she’d almost said. But… could she even call them that?

He wasn’t just a trainer—he listened, he noticed, he made her want to do better.

But friends were supposed to hang out, laugh, and share things outside of training…and she hadn’t really done that with him before today.

So what are we, then?

The thought made her cheeks warm unexpectedly.

Narita: (quietly, under her breath) …Right. Trainer and trainee. Of course.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, noticing her sudden shift) Hm? You look like I just said something wrong.

Narita: (quickly) N-no! Not at all! I was just—uh—thinking about… game tokens! Yeah!

Yasuaki: (amused hum) Really now.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her. There was something in her expression—subtle, uncertain—that didn’t quite match her words.

Yasuaki: (gently) …Was that insensitive?

Narita: (blinking) Huh?

Yasuaki: (scratching his cheek) Saying it like that. Trainer and trainee.

Did it sound… too formal? I mean, to me, that’s closer than just friends.

I’m the one responsible for pushing you forward, seeing you improve. That’s not something I take lightly.

Narita’s eyes widened a little at that.

She didn’t expect that kind of answer—so simple, yet it carried weight.

Narita: (softly, surprised) …Closer than friends, huh?

Yasuaki: (shrugging, smiling faintly) Hm. In a sense. You trust me with your future, I trust you to chase it. That’s not something just anyone gets.

Before she could even gather her thoughts, the cheerful voice of the clerk broke through.

Mina: (brightly) All right! I’ve topped up your card with the couple—uh, bonding—promotion. You two are good to go!

Yasuaki: (chuckling, polite) Thanks, Mina. Appreciate it.

He slipped the card into his pocket and turned back to Narita.

Yasuaki: (stretching slightly) So, sensei’s giving you the choice. What do you want to start with? Racing? Rhythm? Shooting?

Narita hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting around the flashing arcade.

Then she spotted it, a claw machine in the corner filled with plush uma  mascots.

Narita: (pointing quickly) …That.

Yasuaki: (raising an eyebrow) The claw machine?

Narita: (defensive) What? It’s… strategy-based. Timing. Precision. Reflexes. Totally practical.

Yasuaki: (amused) Uh-huh. For a game that eats more coins than it gives prizes, you sure sound confident.

Narita: (grumbling) Don’t underestimate me, sensei. I’ve seen the claw arc’s rotation speed and payout pattern before. It’s all about predicting when the grip loosens—

She cut herself off mid-sentence when she realized he was smiling at her, clearly entertained.

Yasuaki: (teasing) You’ve definitely done this before.

Narita: (flustered) W-well… maybe once or twice! It’s… research! For coordination!

Yasuaki: (soft chuckle) Of course it is.

He stepped closer to the machine, his gaze narrowing slightly as he took in the pile of colorful plushies inside. Then, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Yasuaki: (amused) Huh. Now that’s familiar.

Narita: (blinking) What is?

He pointed at the trio of plushies thats in  the claw machine.

Yasuaki: (cutting in casually) Trainer and trainee. That’s all.

Yasuaki: (grinning) The BNW set, huh? Biwa Hayahide, Winning Ticket, and  you.

Narita: (snapping her gaze toward the machine) W-wait, seriously?! They actually made merch of—?

She leaned closer, her tail twitching slightly in disbelief. Sure enough, the little plush in the corner had her signature streaks and a tiny race tag that read N.Taishin.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow) They didn’t tell you? Looks like you’ve gone commercial, Narita.

Narita: (flustered) I—I didn’t even know! Those idiots never said anything! …I bet Ticket’s been bragging about it, though. She’d totally buy her own plush.

Yasuaki: (teasing) And Biwa would probably insist it’s for “data collection” or “brand analysis.”

Narita: (groaning) …That sounds exactly like her.

Yasuaki: (lightly) So… are you trying to win it for them?

Narita: (quietly) …Maybe.

Yasuaki: (smiling faintly) Thought so.

She crossed her arms, trying to look nonchalant, but the slight flick of her tail betrayed her mood.

Narita: They’d probably laugh if I showed up with a claw machine plush. But… I dunno. We used to talk about stuff like this a lot. About how we’d all stand on the same stage one day, and—well… maybe it’s stupid, but it’s kinda nice. Seeing us together like that. Even if it’s just a toy.

Yasuaki: (softly, with a knowing look) Not stupid. Sometimes a small thing’s enough to remind you why you started.

Narita didn’t respond right away. She just stared at the plushes inside the glass box,her tiny, fabric self stuck between Biwa and Ticket mockingly out of reach. Her tail flicked once. Twice. Then she squared her shoulders.

Narita: (grumbling) All right, fine. Let’s see if I still have the touch.

She slid a coin into the slot and gripped the joystick with all the intensity of a national competition. The claw descended—and promptly missed entirely. The machine let out a cheery “Better luck next time!” jingle that only made her glare harder.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Solid start.

Narita: (snapping) Quiet. That was a warm-up.

Second try. She took her time—aligning the claw, exhaling slowly, hitting the button. The claw caught the edge of the plush’s ear this time, lifted it… and dropped it right before the chute.

Narita: (groaning) You’ve got to be kidding me!

Yasuaki: (smirking) So close. You’re overcompensating your grip timing.

Narita: (huffing) Oh, thank you, sensei. Next you’ll tell me the sky is blue.

Yasuaki: (amused) Just saying—your timing’s like your first turns on a long-distance run. All power, no rhythm.

Narita: (gritting her teeth) …Are you seriously coaching me on a claw machine right now?

Yasuaki: (light chuckle) Coaching’s coaching. Doesn’t matter if it’s a racetrack or a row of plush toys.

Her eye twitched, but she fed in her third coin anyway. The claw descended, clamped perfectly this time only to catch on the glass wall and slip loose again.

Narita: (furious) I swear this thing’s rigged!

Yasuaki: (grinning) Mind if I give it a go?

Narita: (crossing her arms) Be my guest. But if you fail, I’m never letting you live it down.

Yasuaki: (half-lidded smile) Deal. Three tries. Let’s see what I’ve learned from observing my student’s… tactical misfires.

Narita: (folding her arms) Big words, sensei. Let’s see if you can back them up.

Yasuaki only chuckled, slipping the card into the reader. The machine let out its cheerful jingle again as he leaned slightly closer, studying the layout of the plushes with a tactician’s focus—like he was analyzing a race track instead of a game of chance.

Yasuaki: (murmuring) …Right claw’s a little slower on descent. Weight’s uneven. Need to compensate for left drift.

Narita : (blinked)Was he really analyzing a claw machine?

He moved the joystick with precise, unhurried motions, thumb hovering over the drop button. The claw descended—pinched the Winning Ticket plush perfectly by the arm,and lifted it clean out of the pile. It swung once, then dropped neatly into the chute.

Narita: (staring, stunned) …You did not just—

Yasuaki: (calmly, already lining up his next shot) That’s one.

He adjusted again, eyes flicking briefly over the glass to check angles. His movements looked almost lazy,but the way he tilted the joystick, paused for half a second, and released the button was so clean it almost looked rehearsed. The claw descended again, catching the Biwa Hayahide plush by the waist, holding firm as it rose and dropped cleanly beside Ticket.

Narita: (jaw dropping) Two?! You got two in a row?!

Yasuaki: (dryly) Beginner’s luck. Or maybe I’m just good under pressure.

Narita: (gritting her teeth) You can’t possibly—

Before she could finish, he’d already moved the joystick again. No hesitation. No wasted movement. The claw descended for a third time, centered perfectly over the Narita Taishin plush, gripped it by the head, and lifted. The machine made a cheerful chime as her miniature self dropped gently into the chute with the others.

Yasuaki: (softly, brushing his hands together) …And that’s three.

Narita: (utterly speechless) …

Yasuaki: (smirking) What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re losing faith in your trainer over a few plush toys.

Narita: (flustered) H-how did you even—That’s supposed to be random!

Yasuaki: (shrugging, teasing) Random, maybe. But everything has a pattern if you pay enough attention. Even these machines have tells.

Narita crouched down to scoop the plushies from the prize bin, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the little figures, Biwa’s calm expression, Winning Ticket’s bright grin, and her own mini self, arms crossed with that same proud, slightly irritable look. The sight made her chest tighten.

She stood, cradling all three in her arms for a long moment before glancing down at the one that resembled her. Her thumb brushed the edge of its stitched mane.

Then, without a word, she turned and held it out toward Yasuaki.

Narita: (quietly, eyes lowered) …You can keep this one.

She extended her hand toward him, holding out the Narita plush , the tiniest pink flush dusting her cheeks.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow) Huh? What, don’t like the look of your own merchandise?

Narita: (huffing, crossing her arms) It’s not that. I just (pauses, glancing away) I already see enough of me every day. No need to have a plush version staring at me too.

Yasuaki: (amused chuckle) Fair point. Though I didn’t think you were the sentimental type to hang onto these at all.

Narita: (grumbling, still looking away) I’m not. It’s just… Biwa and Ticket would probably laugh themselves sick if they saw these. So, I’ll… keep theirs. You know, so they don’t end up in some random prize bin or something.

She clutched the two plushies tighter against her chest, her thumb brushing absently over the stitched fabric as if she was trying to hide how carefully she was holding them.

Yasuaki: (teasing) Hm. That sounds pretty sentimental to me.

Narita: (snapping, flustered) I-it’s not! It’s—practical! Just… organization!

Yasuaki: (smirking faintly) Organization, huh?

He leaned slightly to the side, watching her ears twitch before she turned her head further away, the blush creeping up to the tips.

Narita: (muttering) …Besides, it’s not like I’d just give one of them away.

Yasuaki: (lightly) And yet, you handed me yours without hesitation.

Narita: (freezes) …T-that’s different!

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, tone playfully dry) Oh? How so?

Narita: (stammering) I—I just… figured you—uh—you’d need a lucky charm or something! Trainers need those, right? It’s for the team! Not because—!

Yasuaki: (smiling faintly, voice warm) Then I’ll treat it like one. A lucky charm… from one of my strongest runners. On the Dream Series stage, no less.

Narita: (grumbling) …Strongest, huh? You’re just saying that to make me feel better.

Yasuaki: (calmly) No. I don’t say things I don’t mean.

The noise of the arcade faded for a moment, replaced by the low hum of machines and soft chatter around them. The neon lights danced across the floor, glinting faintly off Narita’s hair as she looked at him, seeing something different in that lazy half-smile. A sense of faith that wasn’t loud or showy.

Narita: …You really think I can win it? The Dream Series?

Yasuaki: (shrugging lightly, but with certainty) If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here carrying half a dozen books about distance training for all five of you.

Narita: (softly, curious) …All five of us, huh?

Yasuaki: (smiling faintly) Lumina’s a team, Narita. Whether it’s you running the Dream Series, Rice gearing up for the Nikkei Shō, or Urara tripping over her own determination, everyone’s path ties back to the same thing. Growth.

Narita: (hiding a small smirk) You make it sound like we’re some big strategy plan.

Yasuaki: (half-laughing) Maybe. I am the strategist, after all.

Narita: (teasing, arms crossed) You sure you can handle all that “strategy,” sensei? Between planning, training, and pretending you’re not exhausted 90% of the time?

Yasuaki: (grinning) Hah. I’ll manage. Strategists don’t burn out they just reroute.

Narita rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips curved upward. The sound of the arcade filled the space again, bright and alive, digital jingles mixing with laughter. For a while, neither said anything more.

Then, as Yasuaki adjusted the books bag, she glanced at the small plush of her that she’d given him earlier.

Yasuaki: (lightly) …I’ll take care of this one properly. Keep it in my room with the rest.

Narita: (curious, tilting her head) The rest?

Yasuaki: (smiling faintly) Yeah. The one Teio gave me, too—back when we were still kids. Little thing’s still sitting on my self  somehow. Guess I’ve got a collection going now.

Narita hesitated for a moment, her fingers brushing the edge of the claw machine before she spoke.

Narita: (carefully) …You and Teio—are you two… dating or something?

Yasuaki: (visibly startled, jolting) Wh—?! No, no! Absolutely not!

His reaction was so sharp it startled a few nearby players into looking over. Yasuaki ran a hand through his hair, laughing awkwardly while trying to regain composure.

Yasuaki: (still flustered) I mean—seriously, Narita? Teio’s… she’s my best friend. That’s it. Always has been.

Narita: (teasing, trying to hide her own relief) Hm. You sure? You got all defensive there, sensei.

Yasuaki: (deadpan) Because I didn’t expect to get interrogated at an arcade, that’s why.

Yasuaki exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck with a small, helpless grin.

Yasuaki: (musing) Teio and I… we go way back. She’s my childhood friend—always chasing something impossible.

Narita: (curious) Impossible?

Yasuaki: (smiling faintly) Yeah. When we were kids, she used to talk about becoming an undefeated Triple Crown winner. Said she’d be the next Rudolf, only faster.(pauses) I thought it was ridiculous at first… but then again, so was my goal back then.

Narita: (tilting her head) What was yours?

Yasuaki: (chuckling softly) To become the best trainer in Japan. To stand in the winner’s circle with the ones I coached and watch them rewrite the track records. Pretty dramatic for a kid, huh?

Narita smiled faintly. Somehow, the way he said it didn’t sound arrogant—it sounded like a dream he’d once held too tightly and was still learning how to carry gently.

Yasuaki: (voice softening) We promised we’d reach the top together. Her as a racer, me as a trainer. But when I finally got certified and offered to train her… she turned me down.

Narita: (surprised) …She did? Why?

Yasuaki (quietly): She never said why. Just smiled, told me to train others—said I’d “find someone who needed me more.”(pauses) That’s when I moved into management. Thought maybe I could help from the other side.(soft chuckle) Still wonder about her, though. Teio’s always running ahead, never looks back long enough to tell you why.

Narita: (watching him quietly) …You really think she made the right call?

Yasuaki: (shrugging lightly) Who knows. Maybe she did. Maybe she just didn’t want me to hold her back.(small smile) But I like to think she had a reason. Teio always does.

Narita looked at him for a long moment before breaking the silence.

Narita: (gently) …Well, maybe you could start chasing your dream again.

Yasuaki: (turning his head slightly, curious) Hm? I can?

Narita: (hesitant, but steady) Yeah. You said it yourself—you wanted to be the best trainer in Japan, right? Then… maybe you don’t have to stop chasing that. Not yet.

Yasuaki blinked, surprised , not by the words themselves, but by how earnestly they were said. Narita wasn’t looking at him this time. Her gaze was turned slightly away, focused somewhere near her shoes, as if afraid to meet his eyes.

Narita: (continuing, a little softer) …With the five of us, you’ve already started again, haven’t you? Urara, King, Rice, Neo… and me. You’re training us like it still matters. Like it’s more than just a job.

Yasuaki: (quietly, thoughtful) Narita…

Narita: (flustered, voice rising slightly) So even if you don’t feel like you’re the best yet you will be. You already are.

(pauses, realizing what she just said) I mean—f-for us, I mean. That’s… what I meant.

Her words tripped over themselves as she finally glanced up, cheeks faintly pink. Yasuaki blinked once, then chuckled softly, his usual lazy smile turning just a touch warmer.

Yasuaki: (lightly teasing) Hm. For you, huh? I’ll take that as the highest praise I’ve ever gotten from one of my racers.

Narita: (crossing her arms, defensive) D-don’t twist it like that! I was just saying—!

Yasuaki: (grinning, interrupting gently) That you believe in me. Yeah, I got it.

Before she could fire back another flustered retort, Yasuaki reached out and gently patted her on the head light, casual, completely unaware of the red flag he’d just waved in front of Narita Taishin herself.

Yasuaki: (smiling) There. Consider that a thank-you.

Narita: (face instantly reddening) H-hey! Wh-what do you think you’re doing—?!

Her tail shot straight up, her ears twitching like an alarm. Her mind blanked between flustered, furious, and utterly mortified. Before she even realized it—pure reflex , her leg moved.

THUD!

The kick connected squarely with his side, sending Yasuaki stumbling backward into a nearby machine with a loud crash. A row of flashing lights came to life as the arcade console beeped in distress, the digital voice chirping,

"BONUS ROUND ACTIVATED!"

Yasuaki: (wincing, flatly) …I think the machine’s the one getting the bonus round here.

Narita: (horrified) W-wait, I didn’t mean—! You just—ugh, you don’t pat people like that, sensei!

Yasuaki: (deadpan, holding his side) Noted. No head pats for tsundere students. Got it.

Her face went a deeper shade of red. Before she could come up with a rebuttal, the clerk hurried over, clearly startled by the noise.

Clerk: (concerned) Is everything okay over here?! What was that sound?!

Yasuaki: (straightening himself up quickly, forcing a calm smile) Uh… training accident. Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay for any damages.

Clerk: (puzzled) Training… in the arcade?

Narita: (snapping, mortified) H-he means coordination practice! Reflexes! It’s… um, essential for racing!

Clerk: (nodding uncertainly) …R-right. As long as no one’s hurt.

The clerk slowly backed away, probably questioning their sanity. Narita groaned into her hands while Yasuaki, still rubbing his ribs, chuckled under his breath.

Yasuaki: (amused) You know, for someone who claims she’s not violent, you’ve got a pretty mean kick.

Narita: (muttering, flustered) You were asking for it… idiot sensei.

She huffed, crossing her arms again to hide her embarrassment, but the way her ears twitched betrayed her mood. Despite the chaos, there was a hint of laughter behind her glare a kind of warmth that came from realizing she actually enjoyed being around him.

Yasuaki: (sighing, jokingly) I swear, between you and Yayoi, I’m going to start carrying hazard insurance.

Narita: (grumbling, looking away) Maybe add “patting prevention” to the policy while you’re at it.

Yasuaki glanced toward the rows of games, then back at her, his lazy grin returning.

Yasuaki: (lightly) So… want to play a few more rounds before we call it a day? Or are you retiring after one accidental knockout?

Narita: (pretending to think) Hm. Depends. You planning to lose gracefully this time?

Yasuaki: (grinning) Oh, please. I was born to win claw machines and rhythm games.

That earned him a scoff and the faintest smirk from her. Without another word, Narita marched toward a racing simulator, sliding into the seat as the screen flickered to life.

Narita: (calling out) Come on, sensei! Let’s see if you can keep up on an actual track.

Yasuaki: (chuckling as he sat beside her) You’re on. But don’t start crying when I lap you.

The two of them spent the next hour darting between games,racing, air hockey, and even a rhythm battle that had Narita’s tail swishing in perfect time with the beat. The air between them stayed light, full of teasing, laughter, and the rare ease.

Chapter 10 end 

To be continue 

Chapter Text

The morning sun cast a soft golden hue across Tracen’s east track, the air crisp and alive with the rhythmic sound of hooves hitting turf. The Lumina team was already in motion, Narita taking the lead at a measured pace while Neo and King matched her stride, Urara trailing just behind but still giving her all with cheerful determination.

A short distance away, Yasuaki stood near the fence line, whiteboard balanced against a stand, marker in hand. Despite his usual sleepy demeanor, his eyes were sharp, focused , his “trainer mode,” as Urara once called it.

In front of him sat Rice Shower, petite and fidgeting, her gaze fixed on the ground rather than the board. She’d just finished her warm-up laps, the tips of her dark hair damp with sweat, and now found herself facing what Yasuaki had called a tactical session.

Yasuaki: (gesturing toward the board) All right, Rice. Let’s go over the Nikkei Shō again. 2,500 meters, long distance, turf. That’s not the kind of race you can brute-force. It’s rhythm, not rush.

He began sketching crude circles and arrows, labeling them with positions and timings. Rice peeked up, eyes blinking nervously as his quick strokes formed a clear diagram of the course.

Yasuaki: (continuing) The first 1,000 meters ignore the temptation to push. You’ll want to, especially when you see the frontrunners pulling ahead. But patience wins this one. You start steady, let them burn themselves out.

He paused, turning slightly, the tip of the marker still hovering over the board.

Yasuaki: (soft but firm) Your strength, Rice, isn’t in raw speed. It’s in discipline. You don’t crumble when others do. You’ve got endurance, control, and the kind of focus most Uma can’t sustain that long.Then, the final 800 meters, this is where everything changes. That’s where I want you to kick in your “shadow sprint.” You remember the drills we did with King and Narita pacing you? This is what that was for.

Rice: (softly) …S-shadow sprint…

Yasuaki: (nodding) Yeah. Staying just behind their rhythm, then breaking out only when they falter. You’re not racing against them, you’re racing through them. It’s not about intimidation it’s about timing.

She hesitated before speaking, fingers curling in the hem of her sleeve.

Rice: (softly) …Sensei. Is there… any other way I can improve? I—I mean… you already make me do those long runs, and the pacing drills, and… (she hesitates, voice small) I still feel like I’m not fast enough.

Yasuaki blinked, lowering his marker, studying her carefully. The way her shoulders hunched, the tiny tremor in her tone, she wasn’t just tired. She was afraid. Not of losing, but of disappointing him.

He sighed quietly, leaning the marker against the board.

Yasuaki: (gentle but firm) Rice… you know, I’ve seen how fast you are. You don’t need to prove that anymore.

She looked up at him, surprised, as he gave a small grin and tilted his head slightly toward her shoes.

Yasuaki: (soft chuckle) beside I must’ve been buying replacement shoes for a ghost.

Rice froze, her mouth parting slightly, eyes wide with surprise. She hadn’t realized he’d noticed. All those quiet mornings before sunrise, when she’d sneak out to the back track while everyone else was still asleep.

Rice: (stammering) I-I didn’t think you’d notice… I just… didn’t want to bother anyone.

Yasuaki: (raising a brow, amused) Bother? Rice, you’ve been carving grooves into the academy’s back lanes since spring. Even Urara started calling it “Rice’s secret runway.”

Yasuaki’s tone softened as he crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the whiteboard.

Yasuaki: (gently) You don’t have to hide how hard you work. Training’s not just about what I assign It’s what you choose to do when no one’s watching. That’s your edge. But if you burn yourself out before race day… you’ll never reach that final spurt you’re training for.

Rice: (quietly, looking down) I… I just thought… if I worked a little harder, maybe people would—

Yasuaki: (gently) Yeah, people would be happy. No doubt about that.

without a word, Yasuaki reached out and gently patted her head.

Yasuaki: But your health comes first, Rice. What good’s a victory if you’re too worn out to smile after it?

Rice: (hesitant) …I-I just don’t want to let anyone down.

Yasuaki: (half-smile) You won’t. You never have (leans slightly closer, tone soft but teasing) Besides, if you collapse before the Nikkei Shō, I’ll have to rewrite all my training plans. And that sounds like way too much work.

Rice: (smiling faintly) Then… I’ll do my best to save you the paperwork, sensei.

Yasuaki: (chuckling) Now that’s the kind of motivation I like to hear.

Across the track, the rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed in uneven harmony Narita’s steady pace in front, Neo’s graceful stride just beside her, and a very winded Urara lagging a few meters behind. Sweat glistened on her brow as she puffed her cheeks, arms flailing slightly with each stride.

Urara: (panting, whining) Haaa… why does it feel like Neo-chan’s running on air and Narita-senpai’s powered by stubbornness?!

She slowed her pace for a moment, glancing toward the infield where Yasuaki and Rice were. Rice was smiling, her face brighter than usual, while Yasuaki leaned down slightly, talking to her with that calm, lazy grin of his.

Urara:  Haaah… must be nice… Rice-chan gets to hang out with sensei while the rest of us are dying out here… so unfair…

Just then, a composed voice cut through her lament.

King Halo: (firm but elegant) Urara. Eyes forward, steps steady. Unless you plan on making “complaining” part of your cardio routine.

Urara: (startled) Eep! N-no, ma’am—King-chan! I mean, I was just—!

King Halo: (coolly, brushing her hair back as she jogged past) I can assure you, Yasuaki and Rice are not “playing.” That’s what’s called a strategy meeting. You’ll have one too after you stop looking like you’re about to collapse.

Urara puffed up her cheeks but obediently picked up her pace again, determination flickering behind her tired eyes.

Urara: (grumbling) Strategy meeting, huh… well, my strategy is surviving Narita-senpai’s pace first...

Narita: (calling back over her shoulder) I heard that, Urara! Focus!

Urara: (yelping) Eep! R-right! I’m moving!

Urara yelped as Narita’s sharp voice carried over the wind. She nearly tripped on her own feet, scrambling to keep up as Narita’s ponytail swayed confidently ahead. Neo, who had been gliding beside Narita with her usual serene expression, suddenly slowed her pace.

Neo Universe: (softly, with that usual cosmic calm) You know, Urara… every orbit starts as chaos before it becomes stable. Maybe your “strategy” is finding the rhythm inside the mess.

Urara: (blinking, confused) Uh… orbit? Rhythm? Wait, are we still talking about running or… planets again?

Neo Universe: (small smile) Both. Running is just gravity and motion, in the end. You chase, you fall, you rise again. It’s… very universal.

Narita: (snorting) There she goes again. Talking like she’s in a science documentary.

Neo Universe: (playfully, without missing a beat) Maybe the universe is watching our documentary, Narita-senpai.

Narita: (gritting teeth, slightly flustered) Huh?! What’s that even supposed to mean? Don’t drag the universe into our laps, Neo!

King Halo: (stern but amused from behind) Focus, both of you. If the universe truly is watching, I’d rather it sees clean form and discipline not bickering and tripping.

Urara: (pouting, breathless) But it’s hard to think about gravity and the universe when Narita-senpai’s pace feels like a black hole sucking the life out of me…!

Narita: (half-laughing, glancing back) Then escape it, genius. That’s how you build stamina.

Neo Universe: (chuckling lightly) Ah… a metaphor within a metaphor. I like that.

From where yasuaki stood near the inner rail, he finally looked up from his notes, the distant chatter and laughter of his team catching his attention. Urara’s voice carried loud and clear across the track, followed by Narita’s exasperated retort and Neo’s serene commentary.

Yasuaki: (calling out, tone half-amused, half-firm) Oi! You four planning to start a talk show out there, or are we still pretending this is training? Focus on the track, not the philosophy club.

Urara: (yelping, startled) H-hai, sensei! Back to orbit speed!

Narita: (snickering) You heard him, Urara. Less talking, more running.

Neo Universe: (musing softly) Technically, talking is a form of rhythm, too.

Narita: (groaning) Neo—please.

King Halo: (sighing patiently)  See what you’ve started, Urara?

Urara: (pouting) I was just breathing creatively!

Yasuaki couldn’t help but laugh quietly at that, rubbing the back of his neck. They were noisy, chaotic, and yet… he wouldn’t have it any other way. His gaze shifted beside him , Rice still standing near the whiteboard, watching the scene with a soft smile.

Yasuaki: (smirking) You can stop laughing at them, Rice. You’re up next. Strategy meeting’s over, time to join the orbit.

Rice Shower: (flustered, clutching her notebook) O-oh! Y-yes, sensei!

Rice sprinted onto the track, her short legs moving in perfect rhythm as the wind whipped through her hair. She caught up to Narita and Neo, her expression set in quiet determination. Each lap honed her stamina.

From the sidelines, Yasuaki watched silently, hands in his pocket  a small yet proud smirk crossing his face.

──────────

(On the day of Nikkei sho) 

The morning of the Nikkei Shō began crisp and clear, with sunshine glinting off the turf like a sea of emerald glass.  The grandstands rumbled with expectation, with voices, cameras, and distant cheers all mixing into a single current of energy that strained against the preparation room walls. 

Inside, Team Lumina was abnormally silent.  The aroma of muscle balm and a faint buzz of excitement filled the air as they crowded around Rice Shower, who sat on the bench with her racing shoes in hand, her head slightly bowed as she laced them with shaking fingers.

Urara: (trying to lighten the mood) You’re gonna be fine, Rice-chan! You’ve been training like crazy! Even Narita-senpai said your pace could give her a headache!

Narita: (grumbling) …I didn’t say headache. I said she’s improving. Don’t twist my words, Urara.

Urara: (grinning) Same thing!

King Halo: (sighing softly, though smiling) Try to contain yourselves. You’re making the poor girl even more anxious.

Neo Universe: (softly, almost like a whisper) Nerves are natural. It means her heart is tuned to the moment. The question is whether it’ll sing… or shatter.

Urara: (tilting her head) …I don’t know what that means, but it sounds cool!

Narita: (deadpan) It means she’s saying ‘don’t overthink it.’

At the back of the room, Yasuaki leaned casually against the wall, arms folded, eyes closed like he was half-asleep  but every word, every breath in the room, he caught. When Rice’s hands began trembling again, he opened one eye and spoke, his tone calm, grounding.

Yasuaki: (softly) Rice.

Rice Shower: (startled) Y-yes, sensei?!

Yasuaki: (gentle) Look at me.

She hesitated before doing so. His expression wasn’t stern or demanding. Just… calm. The kind of calm that pulled her back from the storm.

Yasuaki: (smiling faintly) You’ve done everything right up to now. The drills, the pace work, the breathing control. You’ve already earned the right to stand at that starting gate. The rest—

Rice Shower: (softly) …Is up to me.

Yasuaki: (grinning lightly, trying to ease the mood) Exactly. The rest is a matter of “course correction.” You know… because it’s a race course?

There was a long pause. A very long pause. The kind that sucked every trace of tension straight out of the air — and replaced it with collective disappointment.

Narita: (deadpan) …yasuaki Sensei. Please stop.

King Halo: (sighing, pinching the bridge of her nose) That was atrocious.

Neo Universe: (murmuring) I think a star just died from that pun.

Urara: (bursting into laughter) Pfft—! Course correction! I get it! Because she’s running on the course! That’s genius, sensei!

Yasuaki: (smirking proudly) See? At least someone here appreciates good humor.

Narita: (crossing her arms) “Good humor” isn’t what I’d call that.

King Halo: (muttering) It’s contagious. He’s been spending too much time with President Symboli Rudolf again.

Yasuaki: (grinning wider) Ah, so you’ve met her pun legacy too, huh?  I’m just… preserving culture.

The tension in the room finally broke laughter spilled out, even from Narita, though she quickly turned away to hide her smile. And for the first time that day, Rice’s nervous hands finally stilled.

She looked down, her lips twitching as if she were fighting with herself, and then, in a small, almost trembling voice—

Rice Shower: (quietly, nervous) Um… i-if I win today… you could say… it’ll be a gallop to remember?

Silence. Then—

Urara: (bursting out laughing) That’s perfect! See, Rice-chan’s getting into it too!

King Halo: (groaning into her hand) Not you too, Rice…

Narita: (snickering despite herself) It’s spreading. Someone stop this epidemic before it hits the track.

Yasuaki: (snapping his fingers, proud) See? That’s the spirit. You’ve already won half the battle  the mental one.

The earlier tension had melted into quiet laughter and friendly banter. Even Rice, who had been trembling moments ago, was now smiling softly, her eyes bright with a newfound calm.

Urara: (giggling, still wheezing a bit) Sensei’s puns are the ultimate secret weapon! No one can stay nervous when they’re that bad!

King Halo: (sighing, folding her arms) You make it sound like he’s sabotaging her nerves through humor.

Neo Universe: (soft smile) In a way, he is. Balance through chaos. It’s rather poetic.

Narita: (rolling her eyes) Or just really questionable teaching methods.

Yasuaki: (mock offense) Hey, questionable or not, it works. Look at her—steady hands, focused eyes. She’s ready.

Rice Shower: (smiling shyly) …Maybe. It’s strange, though. I was shaking just now, but… now I feel like I can actually breathe again.

Yasuaki: (grinning) That’s because confidence isn’t about being fearless it’s about realizing you’re already prepared. You’ve done your part. The rest is just… the track and your heart syncing up.

A soft chime buzzed through the speakers. The announcer’s voice echoed across the halls clear, commanding, and electric.

Announcer: All participating Uma Musume for the Nikkei Shō, please make your way to the gate area. The race will commence shortly.

Rice stood, adjusting her headband, her expression caught between nerves and determination.

Rice Shower: (softly) …That’s my cue.

Yasuaki stepped forward, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.

Yasuaki: (gentle but firm) Remember what we talked about. Control the first half. Breathe. Watch their rhythm — then break through.

King Halo: (straightening proudly) We’ll be watching from the stands. Don’t you dare make me look bad by losing after all that training.

Narita: (grinning faintly) What she means is  we’ve got your back. So go show them what Lumina looks like when it shines.

Urara: (cheering, bouncing) Go Rice-chan! You’re gonna sparkle brighter than a carrot cake at sunrise!

Neo Universe: (smiling softly) The world’s orbit waits for no one, Rice. Make it revolve around you.

Rice looked at each of them, her eyes glimmering. For a long moment, she didn’t say a word. Then she bowed her head slightly.

Rice Shower: (quietly) Thank you… everyone.

Yasuaki: (smiling, stepping back) Go on. The track’s waiting.

She turned and jogged toward the tunnel, her ponytail swaying with each step. The light from the stadium poured in from ahead ,  bright, golden, almost blinding. Behind her, Team Lumina followed to the observation stands, their energy blending in that familiar, chaotic harmony.

Narita: (stretching her arms as they walked) Hard to believe it’s her first time in a 2,500.

King Halo: (calmly) She’s prepared. You can see it in her stride.

Urara: (pumping her fist) Yeah! Rice-chan’s gonna crush it!

Neo Universe: (softly, almost to herself) A destined orbit… already in motion.

The team made their way up the stairs to the viewing stand, the sound of the crowd swelling around them like a rising tide. The air was thick with anticipation—the crisp scent of turf and distant cheers blending into something electric.

Down below, the gates to the paddock opened one by one. Sixteen Uma Musume filed in with their trainers and handlers, hooves clicking lightly against the ground as sunlight shimmered over their sleek forms. Vibrant silks fluttered, tails swayed, and the announcer’s voice rolled across the stadium like thunder.

Announcer: Now entering the paddock, contestant number 8—Rice Shower.

A murmur spread through the crowd. Even among the veterans, Rice drew attention. Her calm, almost humble expression contrasted sharply with the confident grins of her rivals but in her eyes burned something fierce.

King Halo: (calmly, arms crossed) She’s prepared. You can see it in her stride.

Urara: (pumping her fist, bouncing slightly) Yeah! Rice-chan’s gonna crush it! Look at her tail! That’s a power tail!

Narita: (smirking faintly) You can tell she’s locked in. That’s the face of someone who’s been running miles in her head before even stepping out there.

Neo Universe: (softly, almost to herself) A destined orbit… already in motion.

Yasuaki: (hands in his pockets, gaze steady) Hm. Her focus is perfect. No wasted motion. She’s tuning everything out—just like we practiced.

He said it evenly, almost to reassure the others. But inside, his thoughts moved faster than his tone betrayed.

It wasn’t her form, nor her breathing rhythm. Those were flawless.

It was something else.

Something he couldn’t quite name.

King Halo: (noticing his silence) …Something wrong, sensei?

Yasuaki: (shaking his head slightly, tone calm) No. Nothing wrong. Just… making sure she’s still herself out there.

Urara: (tilting her head) Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?

Yasuaki: (half-smiling, brushing it off) Means focus on cheering. Let me handle the overthinking.

Urara blinked, still confused but quickly nodded, waving her hands toward the track.

The announcer’s voice rose, slicing through the building tension.

Announcer: All runners, take your positions! The Nikkei Shō—2,500 meters of endurance and heart is about to begin!

The gates began to close one by one, the metallic clinks echoing in rhythm with Rice’s heartbeat.

The metallic clang of the gates echoed like a countdown, each one slamming shut in a rhythm that matched the quickening pulse in Rice Shower’s chest. Her hands tightened slightly against the reins, breath steady but deep. The distant roar of the crowd faded into a low hum background noise to the only thing she could hear now,  her own heartbeat.

Then like the crack of thunder the front gate burst open.

A storm of hooves tore through the turf. Sixteen Uma fanned out across the track, the wind howling past as the Nikkei Shō began in earnest. Grass flew in fine green sprays, the air charged with tension and adrenaline.

Commentator: And they’re off! A clean start from all runners! Rice Shower is holding steady near the middle she’s not forcing the pace, keeping just behind the leaders for now!

Rice’s expression stayed focused, her violet eyes locked on the rhythm of the Uma ahead of her. Each stride was measured, precise , just like Yasuaki taught her.

Rice Shower (thinking): (softly) …I can do this. Just keep breathing. Find the flow. Wait for the gap.

Up in the stands, Yasuaki’s gaze followed her closely.bHe didn’t blink, didn’t move. His posture was lazy as always, but his eyes sharp and unwavering tracked every detail of her motion.

King Halo: (folding her arms, watching) She’s calm. She’s actually calmer than I expected.

Narita: (nodding) That’s Rice for you. When she focuses, it’s like nothing else exists.

Urara: (clutching her towel, cheering softly) Go, Rice-chan… go…!

The first 1,000 meters passed like a breeze. Rice Shower ran as Yasuaki had taught her  calm, measured, her rhythm never faltering. While the others fought for control of the front, she waited, hidden in the middle of the pack, her breathing steady and her gaze locked ahead.

The turf thudded beneath a storm of hooves, the sound rising and falling like waves. She could feel every vibration through her legs the rhythm of sixteen hearts pounding in sync with her own.

1,200 meters.

1,700 meters.

Her pulse quickened. Her eyes flicked up toward the final curve.

Rice Shower (thinking): Now…!

In a single, explosive movement, she surged forward. The crowd gasped  a blur of blue and black shot through the line, her stride long and powerful.

Commentator: And here comes Rice Shower from the middle pack! A stunning move at the final 800 meters! She’s overtaking one, two three Uma! Unbelievable acceleration!

Cheers erupted from the stands. The team leapt to their feet.

Urara: (eyes sparkling) She’s doing it! She’s really doing it!

King Halo: (calmly, though her smile betrayed pride) It’s too early to celebrate—she still has 600 to go.

Narita: (leaning forward) That’s her line, though. That’s exactly her rhythm.

Rice tore down the straight, wind cutting through her hair, her heart hammering in her chest.

Rice Shower (thinking): Sensei… I’m in front! I—

Her thought shattered.

A sharp rush of air. A flash of white beside her.

Another Uma burst forward at her flank, stride for stride ,  White Stone, a powerful front-runner known for her devastating late sprints. Her silver mane whipped in the wind as her voice rang out above the thundering track.

Commentator: And White Stone appears right beside her! What a counterattack! The final 800 meters have turned into a head-to-head clash!

The crowd roared, the air vibrating with tension as the two Uma surged ahead blue and white blurs tearing through the turf.

Urara: (gasping, wide-eyed) Ehh?! Rice opponent caught up that fast?!

Yasuaki: (calm but sharp, eyes locked on the track) Hm… she’s a front-outer runner. She uses long strides early, keeps the rhythm just strong enough to threaten the lead, then explodes at the end.

Narita: (furrowing her brow) So she’s been waiting for Rice to make her move…

Yasuaki: Exactly. (arms folded) It’s a gamble, though. White Stone’s already burned through her pace buffer. That last spurt came out of desperation she’s stretching her stamina thin.

King Halo: (thoughtful) But even so… she caught up.

Yasuaki: (nodding slightly) She did. Which means Rice can’t afford to doubt herself now. One flicker, one thought of hesitation and she’ll lose her rhythm.

Urara clutched the railing, torn between worry and excitement as the two Uma thundered past the final curve.

Urara: (cheering) You can do it, Rice-chan! Don’t let her pull ahead!

The final stretch , 400 meters to go. White Stone’s stride lengthened, her mane whipping back like a banner of defiance as she surged ahead.

Commentator: White Stone takes the lead! Three meters ahead can Rice Shower respond to this?!

The distance yawned between them three meters that might as well have been a canyon. Rice’s vision trembled from fatigue, her breath ragged, her legs screaming. Her body begged her to stop, but her heart her heart was louder.

Rice (thinking): No… I can’t fall here. Not after everything Sensei’s taught me. Not after all those mornings… all those times they cheered for me… I can’t—!

Something clicked. Her stride shifted—not from her legs, but from somewhere deeper. Her pace, once steady, burst with new rhythm.

Commentator: Wait—what’s this?! Rice Shower’s accelerating again! She’s closing the gap two meters! One and a half!

Narita: (wide-eyed) H-how—?! Sensei never trained her for a second burst!

Yasuaki: (stunned, then grinning faintly) Heh… that’s because she made it herself. She’s pushing past everything we drilled into her—she’s running on pure instinct now.

King Halo: (eyes widening) That’s not something you teach. That’s something born in the middle of the race… when the body’s screaming to stop, but the heart says otherwise.

Neo Universe: (softly, watching intently) …A trajectory breaking through its own gravity. She’s rewriting her limit.

Urara: (leaning over the railing, shouting) Rice-chan! Don’t stop! Go for it! You’ve got this!

Rice’s lungs burned. Her legs felt like lead, but her spirit? It was weightless. Every sound, every cheer, every ounce of exhaustion faded into one pure, shining thought run forward.

White Stone’s  flashed beside her, but Rice’s stride grew sharper.

Commentator: White Stone surges ahead , wait! Rice Shower’s not backing down! Look at that determination in her eyes! She’s closing the gap stride for stride, heartbeat for heartbeat! They’re neck and neck! Rice Shower pushes forward , one meter, just one meter ahead! The crowd is on their feet! It’s a dazzling photo finish in motion!

The final stretch became a blur. The roar of the crowd, the pounding of hooves, the sharp, desperate breaths of two Uma giving their everything. And then the finish line.

Commentator: Rice Shower crosses first! Rice Shower wins the Nikkei Shō by a single meter!

Urara: (screaming) She did it! She did it, Sensei!

Narita: (half laughing, half shouting) That’s so like her! Always pulling something insane at the last second!

King Halo: (smiling proudly) Hmph. Seems our little endurance girl just became a monster on the long run.

The cheering hadn’t even faded when Rice jogged toward the edge of the track, her breath shallow, her smile radiant. The crowd’s roar followed her like a tide, but for Yasuaki… it was the small, limping falter in her step that made his stomach tighten.

She waved up at him from below the stands cheerful, glowing, her signature grin stretched across her face but he saw it. The smallest hitch in her gait. The way she favored her left leg.

Yasuaki: (frowning, under his breath) …I knew it.

Beside him, Neo Universe’s expression shifted, her usual serenity breaking into quiet concern.

Neo Universe: (softly, as if confirming his thought) The second spurt cost her more than we saw. She forced her stride… the fracture resonates still.

Yasuaki didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened. He knew what that meant.

When Rice finally reached them, she lifted a hand, waving cheerfully as if everything was fine.

Rice Shower: (smiling, breathless) H-hey! I… I did it, sensei!

Urara: (jumping in place) You did! That was amazing, Rice-chan! You totally crushed it!

Narita: (grinning) You pulled off a second burst out of nowhere. I didn’t think you had that in you.

King Halo: (sighing, though smiling) She nearly gave me a heart attack with that second burst. Honestly, that girl—

Yasuaki: (interrupting quietly) Rice. Sit down.

The tone in his voice made everyone pause. Rice blinked up at him, surprised by how steady but sharp—his eyes were.

Rice: (nervous chuckle) E-eh? Sensei, I’m fine, really! I just—

Yasuaki: (kneeling slightly, firm) Sit. Down. Now.

The tone left no room for argument. Startled, Rice blinked, then obediently sat down on the grass near the rail. The others looked on, confused, but Yasuaki crouched beside her, eyes narrowing as he examined her right leg.

Her tights were torn along the thigh, and even though she tried to hide it, there was a faint tremor in her leg, her muscles twitching in strain.

Yasuaki: (softly, serious) …You pushed too hard on that second burst, didn’t you?

Rice froze her usual nervous smile slipping for just a moment. The others, still buzzing from the victory, blinked at the sudden change in Yasuaki’s tone.

Urara: (confused, tilting her head) Eh? W-what do you mean, Sensei? She won, right? That’s a good thing!

Yasuaki exhaled through his nose, his eyes flicking toward the faint tear running down the side of Rice’s tights. He crouched lower, resting one arm on his knee.

Yasuaki: (calmly, explaining) Look closely. She tore her tights—and not because of the fabric. It’s her leg. She strained the muscle during that second spurt. Rice isn’t used to pushing her body that far yet.

Urara: (worried) Ehh?! R-Rice-chan, you hurt yourself?!

Rice Shower: (quickly waving her hands) I-it’s not that bad! Really! I can still walk fine! See?

She took a small step forward only to wince faintly as her leg trembled again.

Narita: (sternly) That’s not “fine,” idiot. You’re shaking.

King Halo: (quietly, serious) So she forced herself through the pain… even in the last sprint.

Yasuaki: (nodding slightly) Yeah. She found her limit and then crossed it.

He rose to his feet, brushing the dirt from his knees before reaching out to gently pat Rice’s head. His touch wasn’t scolding it was careful, almost proud.

Yasuaki: (softly) …You really gave it everything, didn’t you?

Rice blinked up at him, eyes shimmering, unsure whether to smile or cry.

Yasuaki: (calm, firm) You didn’t do anything wrong. You ran your heart out and that’s something no one can fault you for.

He paused, lowering his gaze slightly, his tone shifting more self-critical now.

Yasuaki: (quietly) …If anything, it’s my fault. As your trainer, I should’ve prepared you better. Should’ve known you’d push past your limit if I didn’t set the line myself.

Rice’s eyes widened. She shook her head quickly, her hands clutching the hem of her torn tights.

Rice Shower: (desperate) N-no, Sensei! Please don’t say that! You did everything! You watched me, you planned my training—It’s me who—who just wanted to… to be good enough!

Her voice cracked. The tears she’d been holding back trembled in her lashes.

Yasuaki: (gently) …Hey. That’s enough.

He knelt again, placing a steady hand on her shoulder, grounding her.

Yasuaki: (soft, reassuring) You are good enough, Rice. You proved that the second you ran that second spurt on your own. You weren’t just following my plan you made it yours. That’s what a true racer does.

Rice Shower: (teary smile) …You’re really too kind, Sensei.

Yasuaki: (smiling faintly) Nah. Just doing my job.

He stood slowly, brushing the dirt from his knees, and let out a quiet sigh through his nose. The noise of the stadium felt far away now muted beneath the weight of the moment. He glanced at Rice again, her small frame trembling as she tried to keep herself composed, her leg still shaking beneath her.

Without another word, he turned his gaze toward the stands where the rest of Lumina stood frozen with worry.

Yasuaki: (firm, but calm) Neo. Get the medics. Tell them to bring a stretcher—we’re not taking chances with that leg.

Neo blinked, her usual serene composure softening into something almost humanly worried. Then she gave a short nod.

Neo Universe: (softly) Understood, Sensei.

She turned on her heel and moved with purpose toward the nearest medical tent, her stride sharp and deliberate.

Meanwhile, Yasuaki knelt beside Rice once more, his voice steady, his presence like an anchor amid the commotion.

Yasuaki: (quietly) We’ll have the doctor take a look, alright? You’ve done enough for today. No more pushing yourself.

Rice Shower: (shaking her head weakly) I-I can still—

Yasuaki: (interrupting gently, with a rare firmness) No, Rice. You can rest. That’s an order from your trainer.

She froze, blinking up at him, before her lips trembled into a small, defeated smile.

Rice Shower: (whispering) …Okay. If it’s an order, I’ll listen.

Yasuaki exhaled softly and reached down, giving her head one last gentle pat.

Yasuaki: (softly) Good. You’ve done enough running for one day.

The medics arrive and gently assist Rice onto a stretcher.  Urara crouches nearby, biting her lip ,King Halo and Narita keep the other spectators back.

Medic 1: (gentle, assessing) Excuse us trainer Akikawa?

Yasuaki: (nodding) Over here. Right leg—possible strain, upper thigh. She’s conscious, stable.

Medic 2: Understood. Miss Rice, can you move your toes for me?

Rice Shower: (nervously, trying) …Y-yeah, I can. It just… stings a little.

Urara: (fretting) “A little”? You were limping like a wounded duck, Rice-chan!

Rice Shower: (pouting faintly) I-I was trying to look cool…

Narita: (crossing arms) Well, mission failed. Don’t do that again.

King Halo: (calm but worried) Just let the medics handle it. You’ve already proven your point.

The medics gently lift Rice onto the stretcher. She grips the fabric, embarrassed.

Rice Shower:  (quietly)  S-sorry for the trouble, everyone…

Yasuaki:  (placing a hand on the stretcher rail)  Trouble?  You just won a race and gave half the stands heart palpitations.  Take it as a vacation.

Urara:  (sniffling but smiling)  Y-yeah!  A hero’s vacation!  We’ll bring you carrot pudding every day!

Rice Shower:  (soft laugh)  …That sounds nice.

As the medics start moving, Yasuaki walks beside them. The team follows until the path splits toward the infirmary.

Narita:  (calling)  We’ll wait outside, Yasuaki Sensei!  Don’t let her downplay it!

Yasuaki:  (over his shoulder)  I never do.

──────────

The quiet hum of the medical room replaces the cheers from earlier. The air smells faintly of antiseptic and turf. Rice sits on the examination bed, her right leg wrapped neatly in compression bandages. The doctor finishes adjusting the wrap and scribbles something on a clipboard before speaking.

Doctor:  (calm, professional)  It’s a muscle tear along the inner thigh—second degree. She’s lucky it didn’t go deeper.

Rice’s hands clench the edge of the bed. Yasuaki stands beside her, arms folded, silent but attentive.

Doctor:  (continuing)  With proper rest and therapy, she’ll recover. But… I’m estimating two to three months before she’s back on track at full capacity, at least.

The words hit like a stone dropped into still water. Rice’s breath catches her smile falters.

Rice Shower:  (softly)  …T-two or three months?

Doctor:  (gentle)  That’s if you rest. No training, no jogging, no “just a little stretching.” You need to heal properly, Rice Shower.

He glances at Yasuaki, as if to emphasize the warning.

Doctor:  Trainer Akikawa, make sure she doesn’t sneak in laps.

Yasuaki:  (flatly)  She won’t. Not while I’m watching.

Doctor:  (smiling faintly)  Good. Then I’ll leave her in your care.

The doctor gives a polite nod and exits, the door closing softly behind him. Silence fills the room heavy, still. The only sound is the faint ticking of the wall clock.

Rice stares at the floor, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rice Shower:  …Two or three months… that’s… almost an entire season.

Her hands tighten on her knees

Rice Shower:  (shaky)  I finally won something… and now I can’t even train? I-I’ll fall behind, and everyone will—

Yasuaki exhales through his nose and interrupts before her voice can crack further.

Yasuaki:  (quietly but firm)  …Hey. That’s enough, Rice.

She blinks, startled. Yasuaki’s tone isn’t harsh, just steady—like a calm current pushing against panic.

Yasuaki:  Look at me.

She hesitates, then lifts her gaze. His eyes, usually half-lidded in boredom, are soft now awake, but gentle.

Yasuaki:  You love fairy tales, right?

Rice Shower:  (sniffling, confused)  …H-huh?

Yasuaki:  Urara told me once. Said you used to hide in the dorm library after evening drills and read those old books with the gold spines the ones about cursed forests and glass moons.