Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

What is your “ideality”? 

What is it that you aspire to become? 

What rouses you every early morning to depart comforting dreams? 

I have become a stranger to mine, but, at least, I hope that yours may help me lessen that gaping wound.

ACT 1 

“I flopped down anywhere at random and started recollecting the twenty-six years of my life. No particular subject popped out of my lax memory.”

----

“Good morning, senpai.” 

The press conference room is filled to the brim. The air, itself, is being suffocated by the sea of reporters and paparazzis, their sweat-drenched odor relentlessly assaulting his olfactory system. People move back and forth, some nearly stampeding over each other, just to have a chance at today’s newest scoops. The high-power lighting array positioned throughout the room only serves to make things ever more uncomfortable, with its scrutinising heat.

Still, this is but another part of his job as a reporter for the Yomiuri Shimbun. At the very least, he can still find a sliver of ease among the cacophony, in the familiar face of his colleague and senior, Ai Watanabe. 

“Did you really have to ask her that?” The other reporter questions, her eyebrows furrowed, almost kissing each other, he knows from experience that this is an expression of indignation and frustration. 

“Which one of them are you talking about?” His left eyebrow raises slightly, his mind cycles through the faces of those he asked today, none of them really left enough of an impression on him to be worthy of instant recall. 

“Marie. Agnes Marie.” Ai’s eyes narrow to form a stern gaze. 

He puts a hand to his chin, the name finally jogging his lax memory. 

“Ah, yes, Tachyon’s protégé. I do remember asking her a few questions, but none of them was out of the ordinary? At least, in my opinion.” 

He seems unfazed by his senior’s anger at him as the poker face he wears every day remains perfectly intact. What part or parts of his questions even triggered this kind of reaction from her, anyway? He has asked many other umamusume’s the same things.

Himself, too.

The older reporter sighs, sounding less out of her frustration and more like a teacher watching her student get the question completely wrong. 

“You asked her, and I quote, do you think you have truly earned your high position so far or is it all thanks to the aid of your renowned mentor, Agnes Tachyon, and what will happen next?”

She sighs and presses her hand against her forehead.

“Now that your mentor has become occupied again under a new trainer.” 

Ai takes a moment to steady her breath and bubbling emotions before continuing.

“You can tell how affected she can be from being asked these kinds of questions!. She’s gonna start doubting herself and–” 

An index finger is suddenly raised, abruptly cutting her off mid-sentence.

“Apologies for the interruption, senpai. I am failing to see what could have gotten you so worked up. Agnes Marie isn’t the only umamusume to have ever received questions like that, from me or others.” 

He pushes his square, black-rimmed glasses up, the light glinting off them obscures his eyes while his voice keeps its neutral yet respectful tone. 

“I understand if you are a big fan of her, senpai, but we have to stay professional. What I asked wasn’t too outrageous by the industry’s standards so unless she happens to be your family then I still see nothing wrong.” 

His arms fold across his chest as his head tilts slightly to the right.

“Plus, her answer was quite excellent, wasn’t it? It’s all Agnes Marie and nothing but Agnes Marie.” 

Ai’s furrowed eyebrows maintain their positions for a few seconds before dropping alongside another sigh. While it’s clear that she’s still somewhat upset, it seems like he has said something close to right at last.

“I have to say, you…” She brings a hand to massage her temple, as if trying to ease out the following words. “... are one particularly quirky junior.” 

“Thank you, senpai.” He says, without a hint of hesitation.

“It wasn’t a–” 

“Watanabe senpai, please pardon me, I have an urgent matter to attend to, I will meet you again at the office in about an hour.” The young reporter quickly checks the homescreen of his phone before slipping it back into his trousers’ pocket. 

Instead of waiting for Ai’s acknowledgement, he immediately starts weaving his small frame through the swamp of people to reach the exit doors, with surprising expertise, leaving Ai, once again, dumbfounded by her junior’s action.

What’s going on in his head? 

The senior reporter silently wonders. She thinks back to the interview she had with him, when he was a new hire, his eyes used to look different back then. 

They were more lively, weren’t they? Actually, have they ever looked “lively”? 

Behind those obscuring glasses and the stoic, professional attitude he always projects, there’s a melancholy Ai struggles to pin down, but it does feel…

“... like her?” 

A young man walks down the streets, his silhouette adeptly maneuvers through the crowds of pedestrians. From an outsider’s perspective, he is akin to a ghost, one wearing a simple suit and trousers with a lanyard bearing a reporter’s card around his neck. He leaves no trace behind him, touching shoulders with no one and says no greetings to any face that blurs past him. 

“Neo Universe! Agnes Marie! Who will it be!”

A mall’s large outdoor electronic screen roars with the replayed footage of a certain race.

“The raw energy is intense! They’ve left everyone else behind in the dust!”

It doesn’t concern him, so he keeps moving. Around him, people stop to gaze upwards at the thrilling scene.

“Both of them are tearing the turf apart! I can’t believe it!”

It must be fun to run like that, to not just have the strength, but the right to, from birth. It doesn’t concern him.

THE WINNER OF THIS YEAR’S DERBY IS GOING TO BE—”

He glances up for a moment and then turns away. It still doesn’t concern him. 

Yet, the stranger’s breath did catch for a second in his throat.

“Are you visiting, sir?” The hospital receptionist guesses, based on the bouquet of chrysanthemums in the hands of the young man standing in front of her.

“Yes, that’s right. I’m visiting my mother.” 

“Alright, let me check your details in the records. Oh, and you got such beautiful flowers for her, sir.”   

“Indeed, they are.” He replies with little emotion.

“Did I touch a nerve somewhere…?” The receptionist worries to herself, the man looks like he’s coming for a business meeting, not to visit his sick mother. Hopefully, she didn’t say something wrong, today’s her first day, after all. The last thing she needs is a complaint…

“Ah, your details match perfectly, sir. Your mother’s room is down the hall, second one to the left.” 

“Thank you.” The man pays with a dry courtesy and leaves, following the direction she gave him. 

What’s going on in that guy’s head?

“I’m here, mother.” 

A frail woman lies on the white hospital bed with an IV bag connected to her wrist and a pair of breathing tubes to her nostrils. Next to the bed, a catheter machine beeps, slowly. 

“Ahh…” 

Her hand trembles as she motions for him to come closer, and he follows, wordlessly setting the bouquet of flowers on the small table opposite her bed so he can push a chair closer to her side.

“My son, my dear son. How has your day been?” Every word coming from her feels like a struggle, her voice is weak and raspy. 

“Everything is excellent, mother. I had a good press conference this morning, and my co-workers are all very friendly, especially my senpai.” 

“Ah, that’s great. I’m glad you can stand on your own now…” 

The son’s fingernails dig into the palm of his hand, not out of grief, not out of sadness at his mother’s condition or helplessness, but anger, subtle as it is. 

“You are a good boy even though you weren’t so bright at first… You did as I said. Those childish thoughts no longer burden you.” The mother smiles, her pale, withered face bears something akin to pride.

“You have become a splendid young man, supporting me like this, even better than your late father.”

He stays silent, the nails dig deeper.

“The mantle is yours, I trust that you will handle it well…” 

“...Yes, I will, mother.” 

Red begins trickling from his palm.

“Restore honour to our disgraced family… Strike back…” 

She closes her eyes, summoning what strength she still has left. 

“Take revenge on those Mejiros who casted us out!” 

How familiar.

After so many years, the man has stopped asking what if a long time ago. You see, he came to a conclusion, a simple one. His birth was one cursed from the very beginning. Exiled before he even came into existence. Why? What’s the point of asking why, anyway. 

There used to be a time when he would expect something out of his Mejiro blood. How he shares a morsel of genetics with those legendary racers, it used to give him hope. Now, there is hate.

Maybe, he shares his family’s burning hatred for those nobles who disowned him. If it wasn’t because of them, he wouldn’t have needed to suffer through childhood. Yes, he must simply focus on this hate, let it course through him, fuel him. 

It is his responsibility to see the task done.

Chapter Text

Buddha saw a spider which was spinning a beautiful thread on the green lotus leaves. Buddha carefully took the spider's thread in his hand, and through an opening among the lotus leaves he let it down into Hell.

“Good morning, senpai. Thank you for coming.” 

The modest flat is still and empty with only the slightly smoky fume of burning incense sticks and the funeral altar marking any sign of the life which used to reside here. Before the mourning wreath of white flowers, a young man stands to greet his guest, his black suit showing creases and wrinkles in some spots. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, it must have been very hard for you to handle everything by yourself. If you need anything, please let me know.” 

Ai pays her respect with a bow and offers the deceased an incense, it’s the least she can do to show compassion with her grieving junior. 

In response, his eyebrows raise, apparently surprised, before he chuckles softly. 

“Senpai, you’re really just too nice. Everything is okay, it didn’t come as a surprise to me, I already anticipated this. Oh, and I will come back to work by Monday so you don’t need to worry sick about the deadlines by yourself.” 

Work? Confusion strikes Ai. He’s thinking about work at this time of mourning? She feels like she could start the usual scolding right here, but she doesn’t. It isn’t incredibly strange to cope with loss by focusing on other things, and, most of the time, people default to work.

“I already submitted my draft to you three days ago, and I still haven’t seen any return acknowledgement. You need to make it a habit to check your work email every day, senpai.” 

He folds his arms and pushes his glasses up with a trademarked arrogance, forcing Ai to turn away lest she openly displays her annoyance in front of the portrait of his late mother. 

Which is when she spots something rather out of place, lying on the table besides the funeral altar. It is an old, leather-bound journal, there are visible scratches on the cover and the leather has begun falling off in some places.

His senpai’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by him, that journal has been on his mind these past days too. 

“The old thing. It was my mother’s diary and a sort of heirloom, I suppose. My grandpa was the original owner, and now, it’s mine.” 

‘it’s mine.’ Why did he say that with such weight? 

“So you got a diary as an heirloom? That’s… really endearing, actually. Your mother probably left some important messages in there, just for you.” 

Just for me.

The man’s eyes waver behind his glasses, it was brief, but Ai still caught the miniscule crack in his facade. He smiles mirthlessly. 

“Yes, you’re right, she did leave something very important…”

His voice trails off, there were definitely more words behind his tongue, but she guesses he doesn’t want to say them, she won’t pry either. It must be a private matter.

“You know, reading it has been quite a trip down memory lane, there are entries all the way back when I was kid. It’s funny how kid me used to think he would grow into an umamusume, I got so excited about it around middle school.” 

“Childhood moments, hm? I can get how nostalgic or embarrassing they can be…” 

She blinks once to register his last sentence.

“You thought what..?” 

“Huh? Ah, it does sound incredibly silly, typical immature kid things, am I right? Plus, I grew out of it.” 

…?

Memories of her beloved sister come flooding in, how she couldn’t live as herself for so long. Ai Watanabe has heard similar, nearly identical things before. Was her hunch correct? 

“Hey, kids can be silly, but young boys don’t usually think they will become umamusume in the future. Are you sure you…”

He cuts her off there. 

“Is that so? In kid me’s defense, I am related to the Mejiro clan so that could have gotten to my head.” 

huh…

Huh………………?

HAH???!?!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!!??!!??!?!? 

“YOU ARE RELATED TO THAT MEJIRO?!” Ai explodes, her expression fixed in bewilderment and shock. 

“Sounds strange, but it’s true.” He replies, matter-of-factly, as he produces a medallion bearing the Mejiro’s white-green insignia. It’s worn and damaged, but clearly authentic. 

“Your surname on your resumé is different??” 

“We’re basically a branch family so the surname can be not outright Mejiro.” 

“Even so, shouldn’t you be living in a mansion?! Also, this was not mentioned AT ALL on your records???”

“It’s a complicated matter.” 

The senior reporter desperately rubs her temples, trying to stem the coming migraine. 

“Kouhai, you are draining my lifespan here.”

“I’m not a vampire, senpai.” 

As Ai recovers from the bomb that was just dropped on her, her mind returns to what he said before. About his childish thoughts, she sighs, her tone shifting to be caring, not too different from a big sister’s.

All for some reason he doesn’t understand. 

“Okay, I get that your heritage is crazy, still, what you thought then wasn’t ordinary. Boys don’t often look forward to becoming girls, let alone umamusume’s, unless you are…actually a girl on the inside.”

She pauses to gauge his reaction, but the expressionless wall proves to be far thicker than what she can manage. Out of sight, a hand reflexively clenches. 

“Like I said, I grew out of it, and I now have responsibilities with my closest relatives. The fact that I’m distantly related to legends like, say, Mejiro McQueen, is just a funny tidbit. That’s that.” 

Ai’s face hardened, her eyes bore into him like a drill searching for diamond beneath the carbon. 

“No, I don’t buy it, not one bit.”

“I don’t want to repea–”

This time, she’s the one cutting his retort off. 

“If you had the choice to be reborn as an umamusume in the big and famous main branch of the Mejiro, effective tomorrow, would you take it?” 

“...” 

She can see it now, the specific micro-expressions on her junior’s face and body. He’s clenching his jaws, his nails are digging into his palm, the way his eyes occasionally sway to the left behind his glasses. 

“Hesitating, you are hesitating at such a ridiculous question. The kouhai I’m familiar with would have called me insane immediately.” 

Ai grabs his hand, stopping his nails from digging deeper. 

“You act professional and mighty all the time, but you have a lot on your mind, don’t you? I can understand that.” 

Another hand comes up, she is not letting him go. He doesn't understand.

“Why… What drove you to bother me like this?”

The reason… She can only think of her sister’s smile. 

“I made the mistake of closing my eyes once already, and I don’t want to do that again. Not to mention, you are my stubborn kouhai so I have a lot of responsibility with you. Therefore, please, don’t hold yourself back.”

“...” 

He looks into her eyes and then his mother’s on the portrait, his brows furrowed ever so slightly. 

“Okay, sure. And how exactly are you going to do the miracle of giving me an umamusume body? That, by itself, is already fictional.” 

Ai chuckles, a wry smile forming on her face. 

“Well, my headache-inducing kouhai, your senpai happens to have a few connections.”

“Such as?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Does Agnes Tachyon sound good to you?”

“You must be jesting.” 

“Hmph, says the one who just told me she has Mejiro blood in her out of nowhere. Reality can be stranger than fiction, my Lil Kouhai.” 

Ai’s hand swipes through her long list of LANE contacts before landing on one named “Lil Sis!!!!!”, five exclamation marks. 

How strange it is, she’s saying everything with so much gusto, like she’s certain she can grant him his old dream, the journey he desired to walk, but could not. His heart lagged when she used those words for him.

They make him think, think something he has not thought of for so long.

Can it happen? Can he? Can she be an umamusume? That inexplicable, buried calling from the core of his, her?, being and the blood flowing through. The whispers. To feel the turf, the wind, the speed, the exhilaration of the race, and, in the end, to perform before so many. 

No, no, no. If what Ai is saying is true, and that can really happen, then this could be his opportunity. To worm his way into the wolf’s den and destroy it from the inside. To see the task entrusted to him done. A cuckoo’s egg they will never expect. 

He, she will grab onto this thread, this one chance.

“Hello? Are you zoning out there?” 

A few pats on the back by Ai shake him awake from his ruminations. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, this is rather unexpected.” 

“Right, I don’t blame you for it. Anyway, do you have a preferred name I can call you from now on?” 

…

A forgotten memory emerges.

Faint, dirtied, crushed, but it is there. 

A messy crayon drawing done by the hands of a child. 

Depicting an umamusume, running her journey on the race track. 

And her victory, how her golden coat and silver hair flutter in the winds, the admiration of everyone drawn to her.

“Ryoko… Please call me Ryoko.”

“Oh, as in ‘Journey’?” 

“Yes, Mejiro Journey.”

Chapter Text

Now Chatting With: Lil Kouhai!!!!!

Remember our talk? Today is the first step of your journey.

Make sure to prepare snacks.

You are gonna receive a very special guest tonight!

Okay.

👍

Tap tap.

Ryoko…

Tap tap tap.

Ry-o-ko…

Tap.

Journey. 

The anxious tapping on the small, wooden chabudai and the tick-tocking of the wall-hanging clock are the only sounds bouncing around in this otherwise silent flat. 

For what reason? Why did she choose that name? When Ai asked the question, there was a faint image of something that appeared in her mind. What it was, she cannot recall now. 

Though, it must have been something very important, no? It pushed her to break into this identity, after all. To go along with her senpai’s insistence on inviting a very special someone over. 

Even if it’s all for a trick, for a chance to see it done. That image was important to her, still, which only serves to trouble her as she fails again and again to clear the fog obstructing her mind by herself. 

Ding-dong. 

The familiar intruding chime of the doorbell shatters the repetitive ambience of Ryoko’s flat, pulling her out of the exhausting ruminations. 

Oh right, today’s the day of meeting senpai’s “very special guest”. Standing up to straighten her posture and fix her plain white shirt, she takes a moment to readjust the tray of various fruity and carrot-flavoured snacks on the table, making sure that it is perfectly centered and aesthetically pleasing. She would like to deliver a good first impression on this new person, especially when they play a part in the miracle Ai talked about. 

Opening the door, she sees the excited face of her senpai, and an umamusume, cladded head-to-toe in disguise from a big trench coat to black sunglasses combined with a face mask. 

The only noticeable features are her light brown hair and uma ears, standing up in apparent caution. 

How popular is this girl for her to need such disguises when going outside? As far as she knows, Ryoko doesn’t remember her senpai mentioning any famous umamusume she’s close with. Well, except the Agnes Tachyon the other day, but this doesn’t seem to be that Tachyon. 

So, who could it possibly be? 

“Good afternoon senpai and nice to meet you too. Please, make yourself feel at home.” 

Putting on a trained smile, one designed for doing business, Ryoko courteously invites them in. 

“Sorry for the intrusion.” Ai’s voice is chipper, but it dips when she continues.

“Please drop that unnerving smile, kouhai. I know that’s your doing-business look. We’re here for personal matters, so unwind yourself, okay?” 

“You are as excellent as ever, senpai. You even locked on to that.” The business smile evaporates like it was never there, her face returning to its usual deadpan-ness. 

The disguised umamusume follows closely after Ai while Ryoko moves to the side to let the two of them in. As she prepares to remove her disguises, however, she suddenly stops, her black sunglasses staring blankly at her host. 

“Oh wow. It really is you.” 

That voice… It does sound sort of familiar? Has she heard it before? 

The tone, the pitch, the enunciation. They may be muffled by the mask, but Ryoko can’t help but feel a damning familiarity. 

Finally, she reveals herself. 

Huh…

Huh……?

HUH??????????????????

“Oi, Ai? Why is AGNES MARIE standing in my humble flat?”

“Hm? Well, that’s my little sister you’re gawking at there!” A wide smile forms on her face, she’s clearly reveling in the shock she just gave her junior. That’s the one-up she has been waiting for so long! 

“Your?? Little sister?? You never told me?? I just thought you were a big fan of her??” 

“You see, it’s a complicated matter. Let's go in for tea and snacks first.” 

“This… This has to be karmic justice.” Ryoko laments, to no one in particular. The famous racer has already trotted past her to move into the living room, the host has no choice but to follow. 

Thus, here they sit, surrounding the round chabudai table with three cups of green tea for each. A foal trying to grasp at her small chance to run. A veteran reporter. And her little sister, who is also this year’s record-breaking umamusume. 

Ai Watanabe is the first one to speak. 

“So, my dear little kouhai Ryoko, meet my dear little sister, Agnes Marie.” She clasps her hands together, face full of joy, waiting for her two littles to properly introduce themselves to each other. 

Ryoko squeezes her cup tightly, trying to think of something to say that won’t make this any more awkward, her lips pressed together into a thin line.

Meanwhile, Marie has averted her gaze elsewhere, looking through the flat as if searching for anything interesting. She will find nothing of that kind, though. This flat feels more office than home.

Except for a vase holding a bouquet of chrysanthemums, there is absolutely nothing noteworthy. Plain white wallpaper, wooden floor, blue hanging clock, a standing fan, one air conditioner, black stoves, grey metallic fridge. A place devoid of personality. Utilitarian. It makes sense, she guesses.

Finally, one of them breaks the silence. 

“Um, I guess I should start with an apology first like senpai said. Sorry for asking you those questions in the recent press conference, Agnes Marie.” 

That caught Marie’s attention quickly. Ryoko’s deadpan face isn’t one you would expect to see a sincere apology come out of or a bow so low it’s almost hitting the table. 

“It’s okay, I forgive you. Those questions were certainly annoying but not the worst, you’re more polite than some other reporters I’ve met.” 

Ahh, that “annoying” doesn’t sound like she has completely forgiven…

Breaking the apologetic bow, Ryoko raises her head to meet Marie’s red eyes directly. Staring into them, she can see a few interesting things. Oh, there are CRT lines in her eyes? Tachyon has those too, doesn’t she? The gears shift ceaselessly in her head, yet, everything only gets muddier.

“Hey kouhai? Ryoko?”

It feels like drowning.

That thing.

He sees it.

He can see his own form reflected in those crimson orbs. In that sea he was just introduced to, he’s surprised to find a thing familiar, a thing he also has in his small, dirty puddle. 

Sorrow. Abyss in mirror. It’s looking back. “Why?” That squalid gaze, kill it, kill it!- 

“I noticed it just now, but…” Marie intervenes.

“You get lost in your thoughts too, don’t you? Even when you try to look like a pro.”

“Ah, huh?” 

“You’ve been staring me down for a decent minute there, Ryoko. We were getting worried.” 

“I have…?” Ai reaches out to put an assuring hand on the shoulders of kouhai, her image struck with concern, she’s also holding a carrot-shaped gummy. 

“This will probably make you feel better.” 

“Th-thank you.” Ryoko stammers, a shaking palm dotted by red spots takes the sweet.

“Carrot candies? You bought a ton of them here, I don’t usually see normal people eating these.”

Chewing on the gummy is calming, the sweetness and carrot taste help lessen the tremors running through her hands. 

“Oh, well, I happen to have a tooth for all things carrot since I was little. Fortunately, my very special guest ended up being an umamusume.” 

“Really? I love carrots too! Even more so now after, well, everything. I thought most kids hate carrots.” She pops one gummy into her mouth while humming a tune.

Ai chimes in, swelling with jest. 

“They do! I don’t know about you carrot maniacs, but I just couldn’t stand the taste!” 

“Hey, I remember you dumping all of your carrots on me when we were kids, there’s one time I had to take care of your whole bowl of carrot soup, and it was so much I emptied my dinner into the backyards afterwards!” 

Ryoko tilts her head to the right, smirking. 

“Wow, senpai. I didn’t see you as a picky eater, you would eat anything I put in front of you during crunch hours.” 

The senior sighs with defeat in her voice.

“Yeah, and that’s exactly how I built up a poison tolerance for carrots…” 

She can’t help but give a hearty chuckle, joining the sisters in their laugh. This scenery, she misses it dearly. The coziness of a casual family banter. She guesses now’s the time to get back on topic. 

“Anyway, Ai must have already told you about the fantastical miracle she intends to deliver. I still have no idea how that’s supposed to happen, but she said today would be my ‘first step’.” 

Marie’s smile fades, but it does not disappear. 

“Well, technically speaking, turning into an umamusume is a miracle, though… It isn’t fantasy at all.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?” 

“I don’t want many people to know this, but since Ai insisted so much over the past week, and I recognized that look in your eyes back then.” 

From the pocket of her purple skirt, she produces a Trainer ID and holds it up.

“See? That’s how I was, about a year and a half ago.” 

“You…” Ryoko’s mouth hangs agape.

“I recognize you, you were…” 

“Yup, I was Tachyon’s old trainer. Thanks to her, I have been able to run, to be myself after so many years living like a zombie.”

“That means…” The junior clenches her hand.

“It’s possible? There’s no way, how did you, how did Agnes Tachyon manage to do it??” Disbelief is clear in her voice, she turns to her senpai, ready to hear that it's just a prank, but she says nothing, giving a soft smile. 

“From what I asked, it was thanks to nothing short of a ‘divine intervention’. So, like you said, it was a miracle.”

“But not fantasy.” Ryoko concludes.

It’s real, it’s actually real. And it happened. The miracle is in front of her. The umamusume who broke the record wasn't even born as an umamusume. A fuzzy feeling overtakes Ryoko’s being. It is the soft whispers echoing from within. 

It is Hope.

“Nevertheless, you need to understand that it is still a miracle, the chance of replicating the elixir is incredibly small.” 

“There will be no going back after you cross that threshold. I think it will be for the best, but everything you know will change.”

“A whole lot of trouble and doubt, especially doubt, will come for you.”

“I will be rooting for you, but when it comes to Tachyon. You will need to prove yourself to her, and there’s definitely a possibility that… things might not go right, do you understand?"

Ryoko had already stopped listening a while ago, her words flew out before she could comprehend them.

“I will take it! Even if the chance is miniscule. Even if it’s difficult. I will take it. I will do anything for it. I have to!” 

The umamusume goes quiet at Ryoko’s outburst… And smile.

“I see. You are shaping up to be even more reckless than me.” 

“Tachyon will likely perform incredibly harsh tests on you, so I hope you're prepared to be her guinea pig. I will help arrange a meeting with her, make sure to get your G1 racewear design ready!” 

“Ha? My what?” 

The three go blank as an invisible cricket sounds its trumpet. 

“You don't have a racewear design?” Marie asks incredulously.

“Back then, I already had an idea that had been burned into my head for a while…”

“The idea of becoming an umamusume just resurfaced in me a week ago, so, yeah…” Ryoko awkwardly rubs the back of her head.

“Wait… maybe kid me came up with something.” 

She stands up quickly, her eyes brimming with intent. Before long, Ryoko returns, bringing an old cardboard box from under her bed. 

“Kouhai, what is this dusty thing?” Ai tries to swipe the dust and cobwebs away, it has accumulated into thick layers on top, she’s even sure a tiny spider just hurriedly scurried away. 

“My family used to live in another city before moving here. This is where we keep the junks that we can’t be bothered to throw away. I haven't touched it in a very long time as you can see.” 

Peering into the box, the three can see an assortment of objects, some more faded than others. Among them, Marie catches the sight of a peculiar insignia. 

“Isn’t that the Mejiro clan’s hereditary symbol? How’d you get your hands on this?”

“Oh? I thought Ai already told you about it, you didn’t bring it up so I decided not to say anything either. I’m actually related to the big Mejiros, it’s quite funny, actually.” 

Marie can only stare back with wide eyes, her lower jaw nearly crashing into the floor.

“WhatWhatWhat????Areyouactuallyserious??AiIthoughtyouwerejokingwithme???” 

The older sister chuckles.

“She drops the spacing when she’s excited~” 

“That brings up so many questions??? Like how are we not in a mansion right now???”

“It’s a complicated matter.” Ryoko chuckles weakly, they don’t really need to know her family’s history. 

“Ah well… I guess it does also answer a few things. Your desire to be an umamusume must be engraved into your genetics.”  

Ryoko continues delving into the box of old memorabilia, finding a bound deck of umamusume trading cards.

“That could be true. When I discovered my lineage I did get pretty pumped about growing up and getting to wear these beautiful clothes on the race track.”

She draws one of the cards from the pile. Its colour has faded, but the image of the umamusume in a regal outfit still stands proudly against the backdrop of thousands of fans.

“Is that Prez?” Marie perks up. 

“It was a long time ago, my family didn’t quite approve of my dream.” Ryoko continues, her voice dripping in soft somber. The sisters can tell there’s more underneath. 

“Wait, what?” 

Buried at the bottom of the box is a black plastic package, wrapped tightly by several layers of chaotically crossing duct tapes. It’s as if the person who put it there did not want the content inside to ever be revealed. 

“I don’t remember anything like this…?” 

Ai’s eyes fill with excitement as Ryoko extracts the package from the bottom of the collection of junks.

“Wait, let me go grab the scissors, it could be a secret Mejiro heirloom or treasure!” 

Ryoko tries her best not to damage what’s inside even though she struggles to cut through the thick layers of tapes. 

Eventually, after a dozen minutes of prying, she finally cuts a hole big enough to reveal the painstakingly hidden content of the package.

White-green? 

She stands up, unfurling it in front of her. 

A shirt with teal sleeves and a white stripe running down the center.

A form-fitting black skirt with the back flaring out longer than the front.

Agnes Marie’s eyes widened immediately, a hand covering her mouth in shock and awe. She recognises it, of course she would, she religiously studied everything umamusume, after all. 

“Racewear… That’stheracewearofMejiroRamonu! The first to win the Japanese Triple Tiara!” 

“What? Are you sure it’s authentic?!” Ai shares her sister’s shock, that’s a legend of legends’ racewear sealed inside her kouhai’s dusty cardboard box for crying out loud!

“I can’t be sure if it’s the same racewear Mejiro Ramonu wore to her races, but the design is identical, and the quality of the fabrics is superb. That can only be the work of the Mejiro clan’s inhouse tailors!”

Ryoko, still holding the racewear, cries out. 

“There’s no way this could be it, right? Even if it’s an authentic copy??” 

Suddenly, yet slowly, a crumbled piece of paper fell out, slicing through the tension. 

“This…?” 

She sets the racewear down to pick it up. 

“This is a letter?” 

“To my beloved nephew, I am waiting for you.” 

And on the back, is a crude crayon drawing. 

Of a silver-haired umamusume wearing a golden coat with white-green epaulettes.

Journey. 

Ryoko.

Chapter Text

It is currently 3:40am. The air is still and quiet, the ambience of the city outside has faded into a lull only interrupted by the occasional engine sounds of passing cars or motorbikes. Through the curtains, the moonlight is the solitary intruder. 

 Ryoko twists and turns in her bed, her heart restless in anticipation of what to come after dawn breaks. Even as calmness embraces the outside, there is still a suffocating anxiety coiling inside her mind. Groaning, she checks her phone again. It is currently 3:42am. She puts it back on top of the nightstand. 

This won’t do, she thinks. Throwing the blanket to one side, she sits up on her bed, slips into her house slippers, and stands up to open the curtains. 

The flat is bathed in the gentle lunar shine of a full moon. It is times like this that thoughts always echo louder. 

Moving into the kitchenette, she picks up one of the three chairs sitting around the dining table and drags it in front of her closet, next to the balcony where the moon dances. 

Hanging from a hook on the closet’s front side is Mejiro Ramonu’s racewear. 

She sits down on the chair, directly in front of the outfit. Everything the moon can do is illuminate half of her face, the rest hidden in darkness. 

“Why did she give me this?” She begs the racewear for an answer, but the fabrics remain silent. 

“You were a legend, you rose above so many, so why me? Why did you give a stupid little kid something so important to you?” 

“Was it just for your amusement? To give me hope for something so hopeless? So you could watch me struggle in vain?”

“I hate you.” She grits her teeth.

“All of you.” 

But nothing happened. The racewear simply stares back at her. 

“I… Why can’t I remember you…”

A deep longing is all that remains. 

She buries her face in her hands and laughs with pain. 

“Ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous… Don’t start asking what could have been, you idiot.” 

She stands up and shambles towards the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, she stares at the water before raising her head to meet an oh so familiar gaze. 

“What a hideous thing.” 

The monster whose skin has come to be one with her, the haunting she can feel in her very skin. He gazes back with nothing but contempt. Perhaps, that contemptuous gaze is what truly encapsulates her being. A pitiful, shameful thing. Just an abyss looking to fill itself with anything, lest it withers away like a purposeless automaton. 

“Focus on the goal, like she taught me.” 

The water teethers at the edge of the sink.

It has to be said, among academies specifically designed for training umamusume’s, Tokyo Tracen Academy stands above them all in both width, length, and reputation. Even from several blocks away, it is easy to spot the main school building rising above the neighbourhood, it practically sets itself out as a beacon, a landmark no tourist to Tokyo will miss the chance of beholding. The span of the academy is equally, if not more, impressive. Here can be found nearly identical recreations of some of the most famous racetracks in the country. A fun fact often said is that the arc of Tracen Academy can be seen from outer space by astronauts on the ISS, though that is likely a myth. Japan’s most legendary umamusume’s have all once called this place home at one point or two. 

Meanwhile, Ryoko is sure she has been walking for at least 30 minutes, and she’s still nowhere near her destination. 

At least, there’s a silver lining to this harrowing trek, an arguably literal silver lining. 

“...and over there you will be able to see the stump of a tree. Even though it is now felled, the old tree still provides comfort for Tracen students by serving as a place where they can vent their frustrations.” 

Close to the stump, the reporter can see an umamusume with chestnut hair and a white streak in her bang closing her eyes and inhaling. She then screams loud enough into the tree stump that Ryoko’s ears begin to ring, leaving both her and her guide wincing. 

“DAMNN ITTT I MISSED THE LIMITED EDITION HONEY BOBA TEA AGAIN!!!!” 

“Please… tune your voice down a little for our guest, Teio.” The silver-haired guide politely requests, she’s clearly as disturbed as Ryoko is by the explosive voice. 

“Oh! McQueen! Are you giving a tour?” The other umamusume asks, a wide smile decorating her chipper face. 

So much energy, that really is the Tokai Teio…

“Yes, that’s right, and I also managed to buy the special honey boba tea for you too. It’s in our clubroom’s fridge.” 

“Sweet! Thank you so much, McQueen! I know I can always rely on you~” 

“Cut it out, Teio.” 

Ryoko is pretty, decently, absolutely sure she saw her distant cousin’s face reddened for a moment there. The cousin who is also a legendary racer herself. Ah, she doesn’t know, how awkward…

Clearing her throat, the re-composed Mejiro McQueen turns to address Ryoko. The eye contact lasts for only a second as the reporter reflexively glances away, but McQueen’s expression shifts like she noticed something in those eyes. 

The look quickly disappears, though.

“I hope you enjoyed our tour through Tracen Academy’s campus. Your destination is straight ahead from here, have a good day.” 

Ryoko returns her politeness, giving a light bow as a show of respect. 

“Thank you for accompanying me, Mejiro McQueen-san.” 

“It is my pleasure.” The umamusume smiles softly, radiating a noble aura that seems capable of curing ailments. 

Ryoko stares with glassy eyes at her cousin’s back as she moves away to follow Teio. 

“...”

“So that’s my family… At least she seems genuinely nice.” 

Remember her objective, the reporter turns, marching towards the meeting room where her pivotal conversation will occur. From the corner of her eyes, a head of silver, not too different from McQueen’s, slowly rises from underneath the hollow tree stump. It’s probably a trick done by her sleep deprivation…

Knock

Knock

Knock

The door gently swings open, and she is greeted by her senpai’s little sister. Agnes Marie’s face seems to be as full of anticipation as Ryoko’s. Behind her, she can see another umamusume wearing the Tracen Academy uniform but with an unbuttoned labcoat on top. 

Agnes Tachyon, with her lips curved into an arc.

The scientist’s eyes feel like they can perforate her entire being, it is none other than the dissecting, analysing gaze of science. This domineering presence, the feeling Agnes Tachyon projects by just looking at Ryoko. She feels like a guinea pig with Tachyon hovering over her, watching her every movement. 

“Good luck, remember that I’m rooting for you.” Marie smiles and places a hand on Ryoko’s own, snapping her back into focus. 

“Tachyon has a lot of ways to ‘experiment’ so be careful of her words and her actions.” 

She glances one last time at her mad scientist before leaving, the door closes softly behind her.

“Please sit, Ryoko-san. Marie told me quite a lot about you.” Tachyon motions to the chair on the other side of the table. 

Pushing her glasses up, Ryoko’s body seemingly relaxes as if the pressure from merely being in the same room as Agnes Tachyon has disappeared. She moves swiftly to the table and sits down.

But her nails are still digging into her palm. 

“I suppose she told you everything, yes? About what I want and my lineage.” 

“Indeed, imagine my surprise when she told me that I would be meeting a never-before-acknowledged member of the prestigious Mejiro clan, who’s also seeking my miracle elixir. Although…”

The scientist pauses, her eyes scanning Ryoko. 

“You are not one, aren’t you? Perhaps, not in the technical, legal sense.” 

The arc on her face never falters, it is almost mocking. 

“Agnes Tachyon-san, I don’t believe my family’s history has any relevance in our discussion today.” Her jaws stiffen. 

For some reason, Tachyon’s smile only gets wider. 

“You’re right, it isn’t a matter worthy of delving into. We’re here for what you want, after all.” 

“Yes, can yo-”

“However.” Tachyon raises her index, silencing Ryoko mid way through her talk. 

“First and foremost, I want to hear you say it. I want to hear your honest desire in seeking my aid.” 

Oh. That’s what she wants first? Strange, Marie must have told her everything already, so why does she bother to ask the question again? Whatever the case is, it isn’t a hard question, Ryoko only needs to be honest.

“I want to become a girl.”

“I want to become an umamusume.”

But nothing happened.

The words never left her.

She screams.

“I WANT TO BECOME A GIRL!”

“I WANT TO BECOME AN UMAMUSUME!”

But nothing happened

The words she truly wanted to say never came out. 

For it would bring shame upon his family. 

For it would bring disgrace upon his family.

For it would again bring ruination upon his family.

For it would be unbecoming of a man. 

For it would be unbecoming of a patriarch.

For it would be unbecoming of a pillar for the family,

To be so weak. 

“It is your duty.” 

“It is what you must do.”

“As the male heir, you have to continue our legacy and restore our honour.”

“Can’t you see?! Everyone is placing their trust on you!”

“So you need to behave, grow up, and stop being so delusional!” 

“You can’t run away from your responsibilities as a man!” 

“Yes, Father.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Do you understand that your selfish desires will bring harm to us? Your parents?”

“Yes, I do.”

“That’s good, I’m glad you understand. We love you so much, son.”

“...”

“I want your help because there is something I must do for the people who are counting on me, and it is my responsibility.”

Silence descends upon the room like a thick curtain. Tachyon’s smile fades from her countenance. 

“I think it is commendable that you are so selfless. You seem to value other people quite a lot.”

“If that is your desire, then I refuse your request.” 

“What? Why?!” No! She can’t be serious, this is the only chance…

“Marie already spoke to you about her unique circumstances so unless it flew right over your head then you should know that the possibility of recreating the elixir is measured in decimals with divine grace.” 

That contemptuous gaze…?

“Allow me to be blunt, Ryoko-san. I simply don’t have the time to look after you as you know from my return to professional activity. The only description for you I find suitable is a particularly troublesome testing material, one rather lacking.”

A pathetic thing…?

“There are many other options for you to pursue if you want to transition, but regarding me. Unless you can provide the divine formula and necessary genetic materials from another Mejiro for cross-referencing within a week, I’m afraid this endeavor will be too time-consuming for me to afford.” 

Unworthy… 

So stupid, so utterly foolish. Chasing impossible dreams, aren’t you? You should be content as a man. Go back to work.

The miracle already happened once, to a person more deserving of it than you. 

“...” 

“If you do not have anything left to say, then I will excuse myself.” 

The door slams behind her.

Silence.

Failure. Utter, failure. 

“Ah…” 

Taking off her glasses, she rubs her tired eyes. 

Well, I guess that’s it, things will just go back to the usual… 

Sorry senpai, I dumped all of that work on you today for nothing… 

If only there was a hole I can fall down into and never have to leave…

Getting up from the chair, she moves to the door, twisting the handle to open it. 

“Ryoko! What did Tachyon say?!” Marie’s voice is full of concern.

She can’t bear to see Marie, her face must be so hideous right now.

“Sorry for bothering you and your sister, Marie. Tachyon just refused me so that’s that. Everything will be like how it was.”

“I can still talk to her, it isn’t over!” 

“NO, IT IS.” Ryoko snaps. 

Goddamnit, that’s still HIS voice. 

“Ah. I apologize. I think I will go for a walk around the fountain to clear my head.” 

“Goodbye, Marie.” 

Ryoko shambles away. Her limbs are stiff. Movement more similar to automata than humans. She can’t hear Marie’s words anymore.

“Divine grace.” 

She cranks her neck up to look at the Three Goddesses statue.

“What the hell does that even mean?” 

The fountain’s clear water reflects her image, slightly distorted by ripples. 

“Look at that hideous, squalid thing. I still have work tomorrow. Going back to Plan A doesn’t sound too bad.” 

Turning away from the Three Goddesses, she begins to walk toward Tracen’s gates. This is probably the last time she gets to appreciate the school’s scenery. 

Though…

Instead of the school ground…

She sees the cleats of a pair of umamusume running shoes…

Floating in the air…

Three centimeters from her face. 

A silver missile flying at her. 

There’s no time to react. 

“HAI HAI, TRAINER!!!!!!!!” 

It doesn’t even hurt, she can just feel her skull cracks against the marble of the Three Goddesses statue.

And then the wetness of water as she sinks. 

“Alas, the Wandering Child arriveth.”

“Alas, the Seeking Child arriveth.” 

“Alas, the Lamenting Child arriveth.”

Everything looks unfamiliar, a vast expanse opens before her. The grass below sway fiercely to the howling wind. Unknown mountain ranges pierce the firmament above. Clouds drift in a starlit sky both dark and brilliant at the same time. 

“Should the Child seek the Beginning of its Journey.

“A trial it must endure.”

“To prove its resolve, to uncover its true desires.” 

“Excuse me, I do not mean to be rude, but can you three just tell me whether or not I’m dead?” She speaks up from her comfortable bed of grass and dirt. 

“...”

“...”

“...”

“No, thou cannot be dead for thou have yet lived.”

“That is just… brilliant.” She stands up, brushing grimes off her body.

“Who are you? If you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Focus your gaze, child.” One of the figures speaks, wrapped in an ethereal glow. It brings to mind the clear blue sky. 

Wait, now that she’s looking more carefully… She has seen them before… Their ancient robes… 

“There is no way… You are the Three Goddesses?” Her eyes widen.

“So that means I am extremely dead. I guess this isn’t too terrible for an afterlife.” She concludes in a shockingly casual manner. 

The Goddess speaks again, her voice seems to surround Ryoko, echoing even within her mind. 

“To acquire one part of the miracle. Thou must first demonstrate thy will.” 

The mention of the miracle snaps Ryoko into focus. “Divine grace”, could this be what Agnes Tachyon was talking about? 

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” 

The Goddess turns away and with a flick of her wrist, the earth trembles and quakes and then splits open in one smooth crack. From the chasm emerges railings, running clockwise. 

It begins to dawn on Ryoko.

“You can’t be serious?” 

Before her and the Three Goddesses, the ground cracks once more, revealing…

“The starting gates.” 

Chapter Text

“Those who would be born must first destroy a world.” 

Demian, Hermann Hesse.

“I’m sorry, but you are not SERIOUSLY expecting me to run, right?”

????? RACECOURSE

“Hello?? Excuse me??” 

????? ????????? ?? ???. 2200 METERS.

“HEY! Say something?! How can my human legs even begin to keep up with you three?!!” 

??? Brackets. 4 Runners.

“This is a guaranteed loss. Do you understand? I have no chance to win this!” 

“Incorrect.”

Their voices echo in her mind. Clear, concise commands.

“This is thy trial. Enter the gates.” 

She has no choice but to follow them. What can she do now? Run away in the opposite direction towards absolute nothing? The odds are utterly hopeless, she might as well play along until this oh-so merry dream ends. 

“Haha, okay! If you want me to run, I will.” 

She wipes her glasses and fixes her messy hair. She’d like to be proper, especially when it’s basically her funeral. So the Goddesses never wanted her to become an umamusume, great! She knows she doesn’t deserve it. Someone like her will only serve to be a stain on their legacy.

“Thou art rather pessimistic.” 

“You heard that? Right, of course, you would. I’m going straight to an asylum after this.” A joyless grin creeps up on her face.. 

Ryoko has seen enough races to get a feel for when the gates are gonna swing open. Five seconds from now it will all be over. 

“Then, allow us one small aid. To clear the fog on thy glasses.” 

“Thank you, but it won’t be…” 

Light.

A warm, comforting light.

Its roots spread inside of her. 

What is this intruder growing within? 

No. 

The feeling is too familiar. 

It has always been there.

The seedling. 

“What…?” 

BAM!

The gates swing open, and the Goddesses burst forth! Their ethereal glows trail behind their forms like the tail of comets. 

“Hold on!” 

There is no time for wondering anymore. 

From inside her soul, she knows by instinct.

She has to run!

Her legs break into a sprint to make up for the late start. They are fast, faster than ever before. Ryoko has only known this kind of speed from motorcycles, are her human legs really that strong? 

With each step, each time her feet tear the turf into shreds. The warm feeling grows. 

Her eyes fix onto the two Goddesses directly in front of her. The way forward is blocked, she will either have to divert to the outside or somehow weave past both of them from her current position on the inside. 

Breaking out is risky, failure will mean sacrificing speed, and she can’t afford that with her position being dead last. If she goes outside, she must pick up an even greater velocity to overtake them. 

“It is a common strategy to block the way of late surgers and pace chasers early on in the race. The impasse causes them to become rushed and prone to making mistakes, so you must keep in mind the correct moment for the spurt.”

“Focus, my dear.” 

The formless voice residing in her mind, it doesn’t echo like the Goddesses’, and it is so gentle, so embracing. Whose voice is it? 

She mustn't get distracted now! The obstacles posed by the red and the yellow Goddesses remain. There has to be a way for her to nimbly navigate between them. 

The path of life from death.『死中求活』

Maybe, if she can summon enough strength, she can brute force a gap between them? With the strange light coursing through her veins, and the power it grants, it shouldn’t be difficult to push them aside. 

Nay! 

Tis’ a conduct of grave ungracefulness! 

A childish voice, speaking words it doesn’t really understand. Still, the meaning is conveyed. She needs a gentler, nobler approach to escape. It will be undignified to resort to brutality. 

Focus, focus!

The Goddesses. They aren’t running shoulder-to-shoulder. There is still a small opening…

That briefly widens for a moment! 

The thin spider’s thread leading out, she will take hold of it! 

Her foot digs into the ground, and she lunges forward into that tiny gap. Her eyes burning with a fierce amber that resists the oblivion!

“Huaahhhhh!!” 

Her vision narrows into a tunnel, following that singular, white thread. The gap is overcome as she charges forward. 

Though she can’t see it, all three of the Goddesses are smiling.

“I…? I passed them?” 

This exhilaration. The adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream. 

“Hihi…” 

She can’t help but laugh…

“Hihihihihiahahahahhahahahaa!!!!” 

She loves it. Oh how her face hurts from smiling so wide. Her grin reaches ear to ear. 

“HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!”

Ryoko’s sure she can afford it, a brief moment reserved for a rather undignified laughter. When was the last time she had this much fun?! She doesn’t know! HER WHOLE LIFE?! It feels like forever! 

All of this joy! She loves races, she loves feeling the track break apart under her feet, she loves the wind blowing against her face, she loves competing with other umamusumes.

The finish line is in sight, she only needs to surpass the last Goddess.

She loves being an umamusume so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You have always been a child prone to distractions. 

How many times must I remind you? 

Throw away your childish delusions, grow up.

If this keeps up, you will go nowhere. Do you understand? 

Be a good boy.

From behind her, an abyss opens its maws. The darkness invades her vision.

Hands, so many hands reaching forward in anguish, in hate, in desperation, in hope in him. It’s obvious, the ties of blood cannot be severed so easily. It will be filial impiety to do so. A most terrible sin for a child to commit. 

They grabbed her hands, held her neck down, cut the hair she grew with care and bound her legs that had yearned to run. Her pace falters. She’s being dragged back into that abyss, the finish line stretches further and further away in her eyes.

“No…”

“Please…”

“I don’t…”

“I don’t want to leave you…” 

“Aunt Ramonu, I don’t want to go! Please, let me stay with you!!” 

“These… are my memories? Why? How?” 

“Dear…”

“Your birthday is in a week, isn’t it?” 

“That day… Her face was full of pity. I was just a stubborn kid who refused to let go. Maybe I should have been more mature, and listened to my mom and dad.”

“It may be a bit early, but I do have something for you…”

“Instead, I jumped out of the car and ran all the way back to the mansion. Just to trouble her one last time.”

“Since you are my biggest fan, I think it will be the perfect birthday gift.”

“No… I don’t deserve it. I never deserved your gentle smile. I was a stupid, troublesome kid.”

“Please, remember, my dear. Your dream is beautiful, hold it close to your soul. Let it be the compass guiding your journey.” 

“But I still forgot…”

“Even if you forget, your dream will only slumber and with love, you shall see it awaken again. You deserve this, more than anyone else.”

“I am waiting for you. For the day you blossom into a strong and elegant umamusume of the Mejiro clan. 

“So that we can race together.”

“Will you promise me?”

My true heart… What my family passed down to me might have been duty, but it wasn’t what I wanted. 

What I wanted, what I desired for myself…

I lied without knowing it, that was the reason why Tachyon rejected me.

Because I already rejected myself.

I’m sorry, mama, papa. 

I can’t be your perfect man of the family.

“I want to be an umamusume. Just like Aunt Ramonu!” That childish voice appears again.

The air crackles with an incandescent energy.

It is exhilarating, the amber light of a rekindled dream. 

Shining brilliantly like a star. 

The frail light pierces the dark. The white moon bears witness.

“My name is Journey『旅行』! Mejiro Journey! I swear upon my noble name, I shall not let this chance go to waste!!!!!”

Faster! Faster! Gallop on! 

The heaven applauds her with thunderclaps! 

The earth caves beneath her feet! 

Ryoko’s hand reaches out for the finish line. The length between her and the Goddess is close to a hair! 

Even if this bloodbound duty will one day bring destruction to her, she wants to run, as far and as quickly as she can before that happens! 

She will meet her again. She must. 

Mejiro Journey will not let that promise be broken. 

“HUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

Two screams erupt in unison. The delicate silence of the infirmary is shattered into a million tiny pieces, its shrapnel perforate nearby classrooms, disrupting the students’ study and causing a few heads to cautiously poke out of the corridor. 

The first person Ryoko catches sight of is a silver-haired umamusume, wearing a pair of headphones or mufflers? 

“Win!! Did I win?!” 

“Win?? Win what???” 

“The race!” 

“What race!?” 

“The– argh!” 

Shocking pain shoots through her head as she tries to sit up. 

“Why am I all bandaged up? What happened?” 

Ryoko tries to stabilize herself amidst the intense headache. Meanwhile, the umamusume with her in the infirmary has become rather keenly interested in the sight outside the windows for some mysterious reasons.

“Hah, hold up. I know you…” 

Raising her index in accusation at the responsible umamusume, she declares!

“You! It was none other than you who kicked me into the statue! What’s your name?!”

The umamusume puffs her chest proudly as she begins her own declaration with horrendously broken English.

“My name is Gold Ship! And I only kicked you because I thought you were my Trainer!” 

Goodu Sippu? Her dizzy brain needs a moment to process the butchered name. Gold Ship? 

Wait. She isn’t even denying the crime! 

“Are you being serious?! How’d you even mistake me for your Trainer??” 

“Well! You and Trainer wear basically the same boring fit. Also, I asked a girl nearby and since I had been looking for him all day, I got excited and carried away! So it wasn’t really my fault!”

What. What kind of excuse is that? 

“How often do you dropkick your trainer?” Ryoko asks with apprehension.

“I don’t keep count!” Gold Ship declares.

Alright. She understands the situation. That poor trainer guy must have suffered permanent head injuries, and he ran away. Ryoko can’t bear to tell that to Gold Ship’s proud face, does she have any idea…?

“Splendid. And who was the girl who pointed you to me?” 

“Don’t know! But she had blonde and blue hair! And she also spoke in a funny way!” 

Great, that narrows it down to maybe two dozen people. 

“The nurse said you can use these tissues by the way.” 

“Huh? Why would I need tissues?” 

“After I carried you here and got you patched up, you started crying out of nowhere so I got worried. And then you screamed in my face!”

“I…”

Ryoko touches her cheeks and feels… tears.

They have begun to flow once more. 

Streams of clear droplets trail down her face. 

Clear, like the memory of that day. 

Grabbing a handful of tissues, she covers her face to hide her shaky emotions. Her wavering voice betrays her, though.

“Uhm, thank you for taking care of me, anyhow.” 

“Yup! You should thank the Gold Ship more often.” 

That said, it doesn’t change the fact she nearly killed Ryoko. Picking her phone up to check the unread messages during the time she was out cold, her eyes instantly light up. 

There it is. An untitled note on her home screen, containing a string of incomprehensible mathematical symbols, numbers, and chemical formulas. 

The first half of the miracle. 

That leaves only the second half. 

Genetic materials from another Mejiro…

One appeared in her mind. 

“It's nice meeting you, Gold Ship. My name is Ryoko. A reporter."

"Can I ask you for a favour?” 

“I am feeling generous today so say your pleas!” 

“I need an interview with Mejiro McQueen. Quick. I will do anything for you in return.” 

“Oh~ What an alluring offer. You will do anything?” 

“Anything.” 

Now Chatting With: Lil Kouhai!!!!!

Ryoko! 

I heard from Marie that your talk with Tachyon didn’t go well.

This isn’t the end, we can still try to talk with her again. 

Don’t give up!!! 

Please text me back so I know you’re safe.

Ryoko? 

Kouhai!!

5 Missed Calls.

I’m good, senpai. Except for a slight headache.

Sorry for making you worry.

Tachyon has given me quite the mission, but I’m making decent progress.

I just remembered an old promise I had with my aunt.

There’s no plan to give up now

Chapter Text

Well, it isn’t like I expected nothing surprising to happen. 

You know, there are times that you can feel an inexplicable shiver running down your spine.

When you think “Oh, I must be forgetting something right now!”, but fail repeatedly to put a finger on what exactly you forgot, and that anxious feeling slowly eats away at you until the consequences finally rear their ugly heads. 

And then you go “Dang it, I should have seen this coming.” 

A sixth sense for trouble, for lack of better words. And cluelessness.

“Make sure to keep your disguise perfect!” a muffled, somewhat husky but feminine voice bounces around in the backroom of an abandoned coffee shop. 

Ryoko checks the strap of her wooden mask, the thing seems to be of the same kind as kitsune masks sold at festivals, only resembling an umamusume instead, as indicated by the pair of uma ears in lieu of fox ears.

Actually, judging by the extra green-yellow ribbon on the left ear, this cheap piece of merchandise may be referencing Silence Suzuka? 

It’s a rather neat detail, a nice distraction helping her alleviate some of the tension of the current situation. 

“Go-” 

Ryoko bites down on her tongue, the pain was enough to halt the slip-up just as it was about to drop down on her delicate house-of-card. 

“I mean, Spe. You can take the burlap sack off of her now.” 

“Who are you people?!” The umamusume tied to the room’s one out of two metal chairs cries out in indignity. Her often immaculately maintained silver-purple hair has been ruffled and messed up by the sack which blinded her vision. 

How did this happen? Maybe it was a mistake for Ryoko to trust the girl who nearly shattered her skull. 

She said that the price would only be to recreate some scenes in a few cool movies she saw. Ryoko forgot to ask what kinds of movies she was talking about. 

Under the singular, half-broken lightbulb hanging precariously on the ceiling, she can do nothing but pray.

Goddesses save me…

6 HOURS AGO

Lunch time. From 9 to 5, it is the solitary break all working people desire, a calm island of rest amidst a raging day of back-breaking or mind bending labour.

Today, like many other days before, Ai has chosen to spend it with her kouhai.

“...and that’s the gist of it.” 

Ryoko calmly stirs her cup of Darjeeling, watching as the tiny pieces of sugar get swept along the swirl before dissolving completely into the amber-coloured liquid. 

At the same time, Ai is also preparing her own preferred beverage. Black coffee with a dash of lactose-free milk, no additional sugar, just the right bitterness to help her regain some faculty after rushing deadlines upon deadlines. 

“I see…” She nods with understanding. 

“Tachyon gave you a seemingly impossible fetch quest, and then you went through a near-death experience, resulting in a dream race against the Three Goddesses that helped you remember an old promise with your aunt.” 

The junior takes a small sip of her tea, testing the amount of sugar. It could be sweeter, but this is fine. 

“Most importantly, you won the race and received your holy reward. Gosh, if I didn’t hear it from you, I would’ve made this into the highlight of a fiction column.” 

“That’s a 90 for my reliable senpai.” 

Her eyebrows furrow, it’s the trademarked annoyed expression her junior has grown to find endearing. 

“Hmph. Why is that not a perfect score?” 

“Well, you should have mentioned the flashback to kid me’s last conversation with her aunt too. That was when my emotions reached a crescendo.” 

In the small kitchenette, the two of them stand side-by-side, each nursing a cup of drink of their own.

Ai can see it with perfect clarity. 

The little kouhai under her wings who has given her so many headaches is getting better. 

The eyes which used to stare her down with no emotions even when arguing, those eyes that would always remain in stasis, never moving. 

They have begun to shimmer with a faint light.

A gentle smile forms on the elder sister's face as she places a hand on her junior's head.

“Congrats, kouhai.”

Ryoko shoots a glare at Ai, her face seemingly having none of the caring gestures.

“Oi, what are you doing?” 

Though, she lets Ai pat her head for a bit more. 

“It’s great that you could remember your aunt's promise. It must have been waiting so long for you to find it again. I have to tell Marie this later, she's gonna go crazy over your race with the Goddesses.” Her voice remains chipper in spite of the exhaustion from overworking weighing down on her stiff shoulders.

Ryoko’s lips part only to close again as she takes a sip of her tea. What was she about to say? 

“There’s one thing I haven’t really understood, senpai. Why do you care so much about me?” 

Her head tilts to the right, eyes gazing distantly at her aunt’s final birthday gift to her. 

“We are not related by blood, and I’m just your co-worker at the end of the day. So, why did you care enough to take on all of my work for me? You could have just said no, and I would be able to readjust my schedule, you know how good I am at that.” 

Ai stops mid way through her drink, puts the cup down... 

“You…”

Then proceeds to ruffle Ryoko’s hair with both of her hands.

“...silly goose!!! Is that what you’ve been thinking about?!” 

“Hey, stop! I have an interview with McQueen in the evening!”

Ai's voice becomes stern, but reassuring. 

“Ryoko, look. I'm not helping you to gain anything nor am I helping you just because I feel like it.” 

The junior turns to look at her senpai, their gazes locking. It's there, the same writhing melancholy she saw in Marie before Tachyon saved her. 

“I'm helping you because I see you as family. Because you are like my little sister too, and caring is what family do.”

A smirk creeps onto Ryoko’s mouth.

“Senpai… Has anyone mentioned how cheesy you can be?”

“You!!!” The ruffling resumes with incredible ferocity!

“Hey!”

…caring.

That’s what family do, huh? 

“Honestly though, thank you, senpai. If Tachyon does make the elixir for me, I will probably quit the press to study at Tracen, and you're gonna have to find a new assistant as good as me.”

“Yeah, yeah, can it. Once you win your first G1, you better let me get your merch for free.”

“That's planning a bit too far big sis, does Marie get you early scoops on her plushies?”

Ai chokes on her coffee.

“Don't suddenly call me big sis like that.”

Ryoko chuckles, a rare positive emote for her. 

“I don't know how it is to have siblings…”

“Oh yeah, you're an only child, right? No close cousins in your immediate family either?”

“I do, but they pretty much never come over.” 

“To be honest, I have no idea about what it's like being an only child either. And… I don’t really want to imagine how things would have gone if Marie wasn’t there…” 

Those moments of hesitation in her words, they were fear.

“That’s great, I can vouch for how annoying it is to be the only kid in the house. Your parents only have you to nag about.” 

A casual, joking remark to lighten the mood. Yet, it seems to just be another of Ryoko’s façade. 

“Having siblings who understand you and can weather hardship with you must be great. I simply had to brave it all by myself.” 

“Heh, yeah. I remember staying up until 3 in the morning to fix Marie’s homebrew Oguri Cap cosplay in elementary school.” 

“Wow, for real? I’m jealous.” 

“You got Mejiro Ramonu’s authentic race wear as a birthday present, kouhai.” 

“Eh, I didn’t have any opportunity to try it on, though.” 

This is nice. 

Eating lunch with Ai is such a routine activity, she has done this countless times for over a dozen months. Those occasions didn't feel really important at all, but Ryoko wants to never forget today. 

“Oh shoots! I’m gonna be late for the editorial meeting!” 

Ai downs her coffee in one go and grabs her bag on the table. 

“Thank you for the lunch, good luck with McQueen!” 

“Don’t run too quickly, senpai.” 

The senior reporter raises a big thumbs-up before running out of the front door with her life on the line. 

“...”

“Caring… So that’s your family…” 

3 MINUTES AGO

Ryoko has been waiting in front of this defunct coffee shop for nearly three hours. 

That umamusume with the unpredictable personality has not shown her face, and the last text message is 2-hour old. Did Gold Ship ditch her? Has Ryoko been tricked? She curses herself for letting her emotions get too much into her head, what did she expect from a girl with that kind of prideful attitude? 

Wait, that’s straying a bit too close to a self-burn.

There was no way Gold Ship could actually get her an interview with McQueen. She only waited because this was her small, miniscule chance to get the second necessary ingredient. 

Suddenly, a hand touches her shoulder from behind. 

“Woah?!?” 

“Shh, don’t make too much noise, put this on.” 

“Gold Ship? Where have you been?” 

Ryoko turns her head around, heart beating fast from the ambush. Only to see her contact wearing… a most bizarre recreation of Special Week’s countenance. 

“Let’s save the chit-chat for later, partner.” 

Before Ryoko can say anything, a mask is shoved into her hands as Gold Ship moves into an alley next to the abandoned building. 

What’s up with her voice? Is she playing a character? Why this weird meeting spot? 

Far too many questions with no answers, she puts the mask on and follows after Gold Ship. 

“Alright, what ya want is right behind this door. I’m gunna stay on the lookout for trouble, do your talking quick, ‘kay?” 

“Uh, yeah?” 

The silver-haired umamusume nods and swings the rusty backdoor open for Ryoko. 

As her eyes readjust to the darker interior, she spots…

Oh. 

Oh no… 

Well, it isn’t like I expected nothing surprising to happen. 

“I don’t know who you are, but my family has many people with special skills who can hunt you down!” 

Mejiro McQueen threatens, it was foolish to split away from her bodyguards, overbearing as they were despite their (shoddy) disguises.

She was just going to get a small honey drink, just a teeny tiny bit to satisfy her aching sweet tooth and maybe get one for Teio too, which was when someone she couldn't catch a sight of suddenly threw a burlap sack over her head and ran with surprising speed to put her in this barely illuminated room. 

It was definitely an umamusume who kidnapped her, but that delinquent girl apparently also has a partner-in-crime. 

Suggesting… that this was a coordinated action from someone who may be seeking to harm her… 

Worse yet, these kidnappers are also wearing masks of her friends. Is it some sort of psychological attack? 

In these difficult times, she must maintain a dignified posture and a cool head. 

“McQueen-san…” 

The other kidnapper has begun to speak! It’s hard to pinpoint their muffled voice, but it does sound almost familiar. 

Chances are, they are gonna demand ransom money from the wealth of her Mejiro estate, if not then… 

Huh? 

“I deeply apologize for putting you through this trouble.” 

Her kidnapper is bowing? At a perfect 90 degree angle? 

“It was not my intention to bring you here against your will. Everything I asked for was a short talk, but it seems my… friend might have misunderstood. Once again, I apologize. I do not want ransom money or anything of that kind.”

Assuming that’s true, then what’s their true motive for wanting to talk with her and how did their friend mistake “a talk” for “kidnapping”? 

“If you’re really as innocent as you say, then why don’t you untie me and take off your disguise? Would that not be better for a mundane conversation?” 

The one wearing Suzuka’s mask rises from their bow, but keeps their head down, the breaking lightbulb casts an ominous shadow on their face. 

“I’m afraid the current circumstances are not right, yet.” 

Of course, it was a ruse, they do have an ulterior motive. 

“Before we conclude today like nothing happened, I want to ask you a few questions…” 

What is it? The information on her debit and credit card? Or the code to the Mejiro Clan’s precious vault? 

“Do the Mejiros treat you well?” 

Once again, her guesses are off the mark.

“Why are you asking that?”

“I just want to know if your family cares for you.” 

Even if it’s a mundane thing, she must maintain her caution.

“Of course they do. My beloved family has always been there to support me during my career. Even the maids, butlers, chefs, and doctors who are simply doing their jobs care for me with genuine love.” 

“The Mejiros are such a prestigious clan, don’t they have any high expectations for you?” 

Their posture held firm, but their voice cracked for a moment. What are they searching for in her answers? 

“To live up to the family name, I do not consider it a burden now. It is what uplifts me, motivates me to cultivate myself.”

Their hand clenches.

“Is that so? You speak rather lightly of duty even though you are their crown jewel. Surely, the responsibilities must be massive…” 

“Yes, they are, but they do not constrain me. I am both the Mejiro Family’s pride and myself, Mejiro McQueen.” 

Their head lifts, a single eye glares beneath the Silence Suzuka mask. It can’t be them? 

“You–” 

“Oi partner! The guards are comin’.” 

The other kidnapper’s voice rudely interjects, so her bodyguards have managed to track down her location! 

“It seems our conversation has to end here. There are two final things I need to ask of you. Go into the heritage room of the main mansion, look for the missing spot on the family tree tapestry. Go into the archive, search for the name ███████ in old records. We will meet again.” 

The heritage room and the Mejiro library? Those are not things outsiders should be able to know!

“Wait!” 

Before she could voice her confusion, the person has already darted outside and judging by the hurried footsteps, both are making their escape. 

McQueen is left to wonder to herself, her kidnapper’s final requests lingering in her mind. 

“Who are you?” 

Stupid, idiotic Ryoko. What were you looking for? 

Her human legs struggle to keep up with Gold Ship’s, without the Goddesses’ temporary grant, she only has the pathetic physique of a human man. 

The Mejiro Clan, those selfish rats, why did McQueen speak so proudly of them? Nothing she talked about sounded like what Ryoko has been taught. 

They cared for her? Uplifted her? 

But they were opportunistic bastards. They disowned Ryoko, forced her family into poverty for their own gains, didn’t they? 

Aunt Ramonu and McQueen must be the only exceptions! 

“Tch, partner, ya’r slowing us down, they already hot on our tails.” 

Effortlessly, Gold Ship spins around and sweeps Ryoko up in her arms, carrying her like a princess. 

“Is this part of the script too?!” 

“Hold still.” 

One moment they were on the ground, the next, floating. 

Gold Ship’s Special Week mask slips half-off her face to reveal her angled chin, the moonlight bounces off her silver hair, crystalising it mid-air as her lips curl into a smirk of satisfaction.  

With a power Ryoko never knew was there, having assumed the dropkick was the peak of her force, Gold Ship jumps from one wall to another, the moon is contained in her rosewood eyes. 

Stray cats hiss, and house dogs bark around them, but Ryoko hears only the exhale of air from the umamusume’s lungs and the rapid beating of her heart, earnestly supplying the strength needed for the high leaps. 

Eventually, they land in a small playground, their pursuers nowhere in sight. 

“Phew, what a rush that was! I waited so long to do this~” 

Ryoko remains unmoving. 

“Hm, are you good?” 

“Please put me down.” 

“Oh yeah, here you go.” 

She gently puts Ryoko back on her feet.

“By the way, you don’t need to wear that mask anymore.” 

“I think I will keep it as an heirloom.” 

“Suit yourself~ So, did you get what you wanted?” 

“Yes, I suppose…” 

Ryoko slowly produces the burlap sack stuffed into the pocket of her jacket. There are enough strands of McQueen’s hair in it for Tachyon to work with. 

“Fantastic.” It’s her broken English again. 

“I got a bit worried since you looked totally out of it, but things ended well, eh?” 

“Yeah, it was… a good deal.” 

“Gold Ship’s part ends here then! I’ve gotta haul butt back to my dorm before curfew.” 

Why does she still care about curfew? 

“Goodbye, Gold Ship.”

“Bai bai!!” 

With that short farewell, she shoots away into the streets, leaving behind a trail of dust in her wake. 

Ryoko is left alone with her thoughts again, with what McQueen said about the Mejiros. 

And what Ai told her about the Watanabe family. 

Her own family, in comparison. 

“I better get back home too…” 

The lonely woman begins walking. 

Chapter Text

“Tachyon, there’s someone looking for you in the school lobby.” 

Manhattan Cafe closes the sliding door to the “laboratory”, a hand holding her favourite mug. It takes measured and careful steps for her to avoid trampling over the sheets of paper and graphs strewn over the cramped repurposed classroom to reach its small coffee table. Judging by the amount of floor covered in notes, it’s annoyingly clear her friend has been captured by research, which is rather normal, but this is still more excessive than usual. 

It begs the question of what she has been up to.

“Oh who could it be? Hopefully not a crazed fan at this early hour?” 

Without heeding her friend’s question, the dark-haired umamusume calmly pours herself a cup of pure black coffee, she seems to devote all of her attention to the beverage, terrifyingly bitter as it is. 

“I don’t know who they are, but they were practically begging for you.” 

The umamusume in question slides out from her desk, the sleeves of her long lab coat cradling her chin; she doesn’t seem at all bothered with finding out who’s looking for her.

“Strange, I don’t believe I have any meeting scheduled for the weekends except for….” 

Cafe interjects, blowing on her mug to lessen the tongue-burning heat. 

“And Marie was with them.” 

Cracks.

The atmosphere of the room shifts in a single note, a sensation she has grown accustomed to after spending so much time with and at Tachyon’s mercy. From the corner of her eyes, she can see her scientist friend’s gleaming crimson orbs, radiating madness and excitement in equal parts. 

“Oh ho, has my experiment borne fruit, after all?”

They were another one of her guinea pigs? That will explain why they were so pressed to meet her then, most likely to air out grievances about spontaneously glowing in the dark.

“You’d better go down to meet that person and try not to cause any more trouble for them.” 

Tachyon spins around and hops off the swivelling chair, the clacking noise of her shoes meeting the floor sounds not too far from an excited warmup afore a race. 

“Silly Cafe, when have I ever mentioned knowing them, let alone giving them any headache?” 

The dark phantom closes her eyes and raises her mug to take in the smell. So this blend has a chocolate aroma, interesting. 

“I have spent too much time with you, Tachyon. Also, I never mentioned them having a headache either?” 

Bending down to sweep up a handful of printed pie charts and family trees, the scientist hums.

“It’s simply a way of saying, Cafe. You needn't think too much about it, now I must hurry to inspect the results of my latest endeavor!” 

Passing by her coffee fanatic friend, she suddenly stops at the front door, remembering an important task she learned from “last time”. 

“Ah, I almost forgot, my dear Cafe, can you call the President to come to the infirmary around 11? I have a very urgent matter to tell her.” 

“What are you planning?” 

Cafe’s voice is serious, close to reprimanding. Her sharp, yellow gaze interrogates Tachyon, her friend doesn’t choose anyone to be her ‘guinea pig’. That, combined with the fact that she has been unusually eager lately, means something serious is imminent. 

“Not anything dangerous, you can have my assurance. I want her to witness the miracle in person this time and coordinate some paper works, that’s all. In the coming hours, I may be too occupied to make the call myself.” 

Trusting what Tachyon says with that casual demeanor is always a gamble between nothing happening and a whole lot of things happening all at the same time, but she doesn’t seem to be hiding extra meanings in her words. 

The miracle.

The miracle? Gears in Cafe’s head turn. There is one she knows well even though it has been a year and a half since then. 

“I remember hearing your own mouth said that you would never be able to make it again without ‘divine intervention’?” 

“Yes! Thanks to your beloved bitter coffee, your memory is perfect. If we were to consider the facts from a technical point-of-view, I expect that I would not be the one who makes it possible, and that is the part I am dying to confirm!” 

A confident and excited Tachyon talking about experiments is the most worrying sight. She speaks about these insane breakthroughs with full gusto, and they have proven to be correct several times. 

“Alright, I will inform the Prez…” 

“Excellent! I adore your earnest help, Cafe!” 

Mere seconds flew by before her footsteps completely disappeared down the corridor. 

Sipping on her coffee, Cafe’s black pupils land on the myriad of research notes Tachyon pinned onto her corkboard, stringed together by red threads into a sprawling web of scientific curiosity. 

“Hm, you’re right…” 

Interesting, a missing branch of the Mejiro family tree? Bringing out recessive genes… Needs a detailed cross-reference and the Goddesses’ formula! Does she have the potential? 

“I am also looking forward to her as well.” 

Cafe spoke, but there was no one in the room except for her.

“Things are gonna be okay! Manhattan Cafe is one of her closest friends, she will definitely be able to get in touch with Tachyon.” 

“And what if she can’t? Tachyon didn’t even reply to your messages.” 

Ryoko’s eyes are locked to the floor, the shadowed chasms under them grow heavy with an unseen weight, dragging her into the ground. 

Meanwhile, footsteps and chatters have begun filling the hall as another cheerful day at Tracen begins for the students. Youthful and energetic umamusumes move around them, greeting friends and teachers with happy smiles, their faces bear no burden. Ryoko finds herself besieged on all sides, stranded amidst this sea of happiness. 

It is akin to a vivid painting, and there is but one flaw: him. 

The faces of those students grow indistinct, distorted and inhuman. Their eyes sharpen into skewering daggers, smiles curving upwards until their muscles snap. They leer at him in utter disdain and contempt. He understands their looks, he knows them well. What fate is there for the stranger, the intruder, but execution? 

It would be better if he were expunged from this scenery.

“It’s sort of normal for her to ghost people sometimes. I personally know that she can disappear for weeks to focus on her ‘experiments’ instead of training.” 

Despite her cheerful voice, Marie’s attempt to lighten the mood fails to get through Ryoko’s head.

“Assuming that’s the case then she most likely forgot about me. Tachyon probably has a thousand other matters to care about before this ‘troublesome material’.” 

“Good morning! Could you two have been bad-mouthing me?” 

Ryoko’s heart nearly leaps out and sprints away as Tachyon jumps at her face, her red eyes arresting the junior reporter in their dissecting gaze. Marie has the same eyes too, how come she’s so nice compared to the scientist?! Or maybe Ryoko just hasn’t seen the scary side of her senpai’s little sister. 

“Tachyon! Me and Ryoko have been waiting for you this whole morning, why didn’t you read my texts?” 

The scientist’s hands clasp in apology.

“The fault is on me, Marie, my recent research program has proven to be quite a difficult project so it slipped my mind to turn the notifications on.” 

Tachyon’s smile at Marie is a far cry from how she smiles at Ryoko, one gentle the other feels like a scalpel. 

“So, Ryoko. If you have been wanting to meet me so much then I assume you must have gathered what I asked for?” 

That presence is still as oppressive as she remembers, but this is her second rodeo, and Ryoko’s nerves have got enough time, and blunt force trauma, to maintain a sufficient semblance of stability.

“Yes, everything you said you needed, I managed to get them all.” 

She produces a neat folder from her satchel. 

“This contains a printed copy of the formula I received after a fever dream race against the Goddesses, a zip-locked bag containing samples of Mejiro McQueen’s hair, and my own.” 

Snatching it from her hands, Tachyon flips the folder open without any ado. 

“How professional! Despite your troublesomeness, you do have the making of a class representative I have to say.” 

Ryoko may not be able to see the subtle signs of excitement overflowing from her, but Marie surely can. That excitement is similar, no, identical to when she brought Marie the elixir.

The corners of the mad scientist’s grinning lips twitch as her burning eyes lay upon the folder’s content. For a solid minute, she stops breathing entirely as if afraid the act will disturb her focus. 

“Excellent, truly excellent…” The scientist mutters to herself. This is what she has been searching for, the chemistry and math no one can understand except for her, the second coming of the divine.

For so long since Marie’s transformation she has thought it impossible to recreate the formula. Regardless of how many sleepless nights she spent running a hundred different calculations and mixing a dozen unique chemicals together, she always failed to recall the exact formula. The Goddesses were blocking her but now the key to create an umamusume and unlock her potential…

…It is resting in her hands again. 

To have another opportunity to perform this scientific miracle, she needs to give Ryoko her fullest thanks afterwards. 

“Yoko-chan, wait for me at the East Wing infirmary. Come alone.” 

Before Ryoko can even begin to think of what to say, Tachyon has already turned on her heel and bolted. Luckily, no one was harmed as the other students instinctively jumped out of her way, except for a loud brown-haired racer. 

“Oi Tachyon!!” 

“See me later Bucket-kun!” 

If she was a second too late to react, Jungle Pocket would’ve been turned into a fine, red mist. 

“Watch where you’re going!!!!!!” 

“...” 

Ryoko stands motionless, her mouth agape. Like a marionette with its strings cut, her arms dangle lifelessly besides her. 

“What? What does that mean???” 

A soft hand suddenly clutches her own, its grip is gentle and reassuring. Marie has come up to stand beside her. 

“I think…”

“It means you passed. Everything has been a test Tachyon came up with, and you didn’t fail at all. I know that look on her face, you showed her exactly what she wanted to see. Congratulations!” 

Oh, that’s great. She did it. She finished her quest. Then why? Why does her heart not feel lighter at all? 

Tremor runs beneath her feet, the ground before her buckles and shatters into pieces. Not a single tile remains, all are consumed. To take the next step forward, is she truly ready to plunge herself into the unknown? To discard her entire life before as a man? To destroy the foundation she has grown reliant on? By all logic, it is madness. 

She was already given a warning, but now… 

Staring into that horizon so close. She finds herself struck by fear. 

Yet, she has a promise to keep. 

“Please, show me the way to the East Wing infirmary.” 

The hallway to her destination stretches into the distance, is it because of the length of the school or just a fault of her perception? Every step she takes is a struggle, her mind torn between the desire to see her aunt again, as an umamusume, and the fear that screams at her to run away and go back to the comforting familiar. 

The corridor warps and coils into serpentine shapes, meandering and non-euclidean. Light stops making sense, gone is the warm golden glow of a pleasant mid-autumn day, replaced in whole by a foreboding crimson. Black, putrefied hands emerge from the tiny crevices in the walls and crawl around like cockroaches, dirty tar stains everywhere they move through.

No matter what she’s seeing, she has to keep going. Despite the insistence of her instincts, there is no turning back with how far she has come. 

When she raises her head, she finds herself standing before an umamusume. It isn’t Tachyon, it is not Marie either. 

The Emperor. It’s none other than Symboli Rudolf. 

Her presence wards against the distortion, even as the floor sprouts obsidian tendrils that shoot upwards trying to tear her throat apart, she remains firm, unwavering. They never manage to leave a mark on her skin. 

Her smile has the same kind of radiance as Aunt Ramonu’s. 

“Greetings, Agnes Tachyon’s friend told me to wait here for a ‘miracle’. Am I wrong to assume the subject of this miracle is you?”

Ryoko shuts her eyes and musters what’s left of her mental faculty to banish the hallucinations swarming her vision, she shouldn’t make a fool of herself in the grace of the Emperor.

“Y-yes.” She reopens her eyes, the distortions have retreated to the peripherals, but they refuse to be quelled so easily. “That is me.” 

Rudolf nods, satisfied by the confirmation. 

“You must already know of my name, but do allow me to formally introduce myself.” 

She steps forward, extending a hand. 

“I am Symboli Rudolf, Tracen Academy’s Students Council President and an advocate for every umamusume’s dreams, regardless of their circumstances.” 

Hesitantly, Ryoko returns Rudolf’s gesture, extending her own hand and trying her best not to gag at the extra rotting one clinging onto her forearm.

“My name is… Ryoko. Mejiro Journey… It’s not my legal name, but I hope you will understand.” 

Rudolf’s countenance is devoid of any judgment, something that catches Ryoko by surprise. Instead of the gaze of contempt she fears, there is a warm smile, so warm it may be able to melt through the deepest frost. 

“You do not need to worry, I can understand your situation as I know an umamusume very similar to you. Now, how about we go inside? It will be a better place for conversing than the hallway.” 

“Okay…” 

Obediently, Ryoko follows Rudolf into the infirmary, its interior clean and pristine. The umamusume motions for her to sit down on one of the cushioned chairs. 

“There is one thing I’m curious about, you said you were a Mejiro?” 

Rudolf’s smile has not faltered once, just how long will it take for her to become disgusted by his brazen claim on the noble name when he's really nothing but a filthy castaway?

“It definitely sounds unbelievable, doesn’t it? I don’t look like a Mejiro at all, and here I am parading that name around. If you need to see proof, I’ve brought the family crest with me here.” 

The Emperor shakes her head. 

“No, that is not what I’m curious about. I trust that you have the blood of a Mejiro. What I really want to know is whether you have the determination of one.” 

Ryoko recognises that look. It is a challenge to battle, a demand for an answer from the bottom of her heart. Rudolf’s eyes burn with a fire that seeks to spread its warmth, and Ryoko…she cannot endure its heat, it will burn her alive, exposing the filth underneath.

Her hands rush to shield her face from the flame, to give herself some respite in darkness.

“I… I’ve been so afraid. Now that the horizon I’ve been reaching for is near, I find myself trapped. Once my old familiar life is gone, I don’t know what will happen next. My head is screaming at me to turn back.” 

“I am just a mad coward who loses him– herself too easily to hubris. This name is not really mine, I have no rights to it besides a mere blood relation.”

What a pathetic display. Ryoko wouldn’t blame Rudolf if she told her to leave immediately. Though the Emperor said nothing, she slowly gets up from her seat and moves towards the window. 

From the infirmary, she can see the campus’ central fountain covered by a temporary screen; there are a few construction workers huddling around it. 

“Even under such a pressure, you still attempt to think logically and consider the merits, I find that to be a positive trait of yours. Here is my second question, do you know why the Three Goddesses are always visible from the main school building?” 

Ryoko’s hands lower, her wavering eyes struck by confusion. 

“What? I never noticed…” 

“It is quite an interesting choice.” Rudolf chuckles. “To spend the effort to ensure the simple monument be visible to all students regardless of which wing of the building they are in.” 

She turns to face Ryoko again. The sunlight illuminates her, and it is her who is also illuminating. 

“My personal theory is that it serves as a constant reminder for every umamusume here. A reminder that the Goddesses are looking after them, that they are always blessed. Since you are on the campus right now, divine grace extends to you too.” 

The beacon in her eyes flares up one more time, her voice rising to a boom, perforating Ryoko. Her own soul can’t help but resonate, dragged out by the Emperor’s divine might.

“I have heard your mind. Now, I wish to hear your heart. Answer me, Mejiro Journey! Do you want to run!?” 

Desire. Call. Dream. Promise. From the cracks in her hardened heart, a slumbering seed has already sprouted. Not yet a flower, far from a sapling, long before a tree, but it demands life with ferocity. For now, oblivion matters not, the exhumed light bursts forth.

“I do! Even if I only ran in a dream, I still can’t forget those feelings inside of me! I love racing, I love running with all of my might on the turf! I love the wind blowing against my face, I love all of it!” 

Reflected in the Emperor’s eyes is a familiar visage, a faint apparition standing beside Ryoko, looking at her with the same loving smile as back then. 

“Your answer… I expected nothing less from an umamusume. Tachyon, you can come in now.” 

The infirmary’s door gently swings open and in comes the uma scientist, holding a flask of shimmering amber liquid in her hand. 

“Is that..?” 

“Correct, Yoko-chan, it is all yours. You earned it yourself, I simply did the part of facilitating the collection of materials~” 

Ryoko’s eyebrows scrunch together. 

“Wait, so that means you planned everything from the beginning? Including me getting dropkicked in the head?” 

“I have nary an idea of what you are talking about.” Tachyon whistles as she places the flask before Ryoko. 

Staring into it, she finds his image looking back. This is the final goodbye to that sorry face, Ryoko won’t miss it. 

“Still, I want to thank you. I don’t know what I need to do to repay this favour.” 

“It won’t be necessary.” The scientist’s smile has become gentler. “You already did a massive favour when you gave me the opportunity to recreate this miracle.” 

Journey places her hand on the flask.

“Well… this really is it now, huh?” 

Lifting it up, she can see Tachyon and Rudolf both smiling at her. 

“Bon voyage.” 

With just a single gulp, the liquid flows down her throat as her eyelids grow heavy, so heavy she can no longer keep them open for any longer.

Into a merry dream, she drifts.

Everything is quiet; silent enough that she can hear her own beating heart. She opens her eyes to see the infirmary’s white ceiling, no traces of distortion linger in her vision. It’s serene, like the day when she was born. 

“Tachyon? Rudolf?” 

She tried to speak, but no sound came out. Suddenly, a child’s giggle pierces through the quietness.

“Hihi! Catch me if you can~”

“Wait!” Journey shoots up from the bed, chasing after the voice. She swings open the infirmary’s door, only to meet the sight of a city crossing, one she recognises. 

“This is… my usual way home?” 

The crossing that should be brimming with people is devoid of life, for kilometers on all sides, there is only the concrete jungle with inanimate billboards and darkened screens. Skyscrapers stretch into the blue sky, forming a bird cage around her. 

By familiarity, she begins to walk in the direction she has always known. Yet, again and again, she is brought back to the crossing. The road seems to loop endlessly for infinity back to this crossroad. She continues walking, nevertheless, bound to the beaten path. 

“For as long as I have known, this road always leads home.”

She loops again. 

“Straying away means getting lost, I was taught to never deviate.” 

She loops again. 

“Everyday, going to school, then work, then home.” 

She loops again.

“I think to myself that if I just keep going in this direction like I was told.”

She loops again.

“I will eventually arrive at where I want to be.” 

She loops again.

“So far, it has been 19 years.”

She loops again.

“Will this trek continue for 50? 60 more years?” 

She loops again. 

“Where is home?” 

She stops. 

And turns on her heel. 

“How long must I walk?” 

She begins running the opposite direction. She loops again.

“What is the purpose of this?” 

She loops again.

“Who am I?!” 

Crunch.

She looks down at her feet to see a crumbled sheet of paper. 

She raises her head, a path paved by golden pages stretching before her, leading far away from the concrete path she’s accustomed to.

Wordlessly, she follows it, feeling the crunching of paper beneath her soles.

The path of gold morphs into wooden floors. Walls decorated by beautiful floral patterns emerge from the ground. Ornate windows float mid air. 

She traces her hand on the walls and the windowsill, feeling the familiar patterns engraved into them. They are the wintersweet, her aunt’s favourite flower. The nostalgic fragrance of aged wood fills her nose. At the end of the hallway, happy giggles echo from behind a simple oak door. 

Opening the door, she finds a child having the same black hair as her, only longer, wearing a frilly shirt with suspenders, drawing while sprawled out on the floor. The innocence before everything happened.

It seems like she has been earnestly sketching for a long time, for the walls are covered in crayon doodles, and the ground is layered with paper, the same golden pages that laid the path to here.

“Welcome back!” 

The child finishes the last scribbling of her crayons and runs up to Journey.

“You left me waiting for so long! So I spent that time making a gift for you.”

“Do you recognise who it is?” 

Journey’s shaking hand slowly reaches out, taking the childish sketch, and collapses onto her knees.

“I do.” The first raindrops of spring fall from her eyes. “I do, Ryoko.” 

She embraces her innocence, holding tightly onto her small frame so she won’t lose her again.

“It’s us, isn’t it?”

“Mm, that’s right.” The child hugs herself, her hands are so frail, yet they cradled the journey in their little drawings. 

In this recollected room bathed in golden rays of spring sunlight (春日影), she will allow herself one moment of weakness for the vast river in her heart to flow, free from the stagnation that once defined it. 

“Ahhhhh!”

It flows and flows, unabated, unrestrained. She cries like she has never cried before. 

The emotions that have been held back in her for years shatter the dam imprisoning it. With the force of a thousand torrents, they flood the barren fields and basins, sweeping away and purifying the filth that has accumulated for so long. 

The clear water shall irrigate the land, to breathe new life into its golden pages. 

Her eyes flutter open. 

The same infirmary ceiling is there, now painted a calm amber by the afternoon glow. Ryoko carefully sits up on her bed, she doesn’t remember her clothes feeling so loose and her body so light. 

“Everyone…?” 

A soft, feminine voice escapes her lips and is there something on her head? 

Before she can register them, a figure lunges at her. 

“Kouhai!!!!” 

Ryoko has no time to dodge, she is immediately arrested in the ambusher’s embrace with no possibility of abscond. 

“Senpai?! When did you get here?” 

“I rushed to Tracen as quickly as I could after Marie told me you took the elixir. It worked Ryoko, it worked!” 

“I did tell her to take it easy since your transition was taking some time.” 

Marie pokes her head through the curtain, holding a makeup mirror. Unlike how it often is, the reflective surface is still with no sense of malice. Inside the calm mirror, no contemptuous gaze stares back at her, there is just her. 

Mejiro Journey, with her hair made of the silk threaded from the night sky, and silver streaks extracted from lightning strikes. An ahoge, curving between her tall standing ears. 

Have her eyes always been amber? She never noticed. 

“I–” Her hand touches a lock of silver, it’s natural, perfectly natural. The length of her hair grew too, trailing down half of her back like a waterfall, like how it was when she was a kid.

“Thank you!” She screams with liberation, the bird cage lies shattered. 

“Wait wait, don’t sob into my work shirt!”

Chapter Text

“One… Two… Go–!” 

In an instant near imperceptible, a young umamusume accelerates forward, cleaving the air in twain. 

Chunks of the emerald turf disintegrate beneath the cleats of her shoes, their meager soil proving inadequate to withstand the meteoric force of her sprint.

Against the howling drag of wind, her silver locks curve into the shape of blurred lightning bolts zig-zagging amidst a night sky, while her drumming footsteps draw, nay, demand the awed gaze of nearby students. Every strain of muscle constituting her body feels animated, electric energy vibrates in her marrows, her bones, fueling her unrestrained strides. 

With amber eyes locked at the open path ahead, towards the imaginary goal whose sole witness is Mejiro Journey, the images of Agnes Tachyon and Agnes Marie appear only as momentary smudges in the peripherals. 

Two lengths flew by before she noticed that she had already passed her spotters. Running has been so fun that she just never wanted to stop. 

“1.21.92!” Marie announces, holding her stopwatch high in the air. 

Tachyon taps her clipboard, circling the noteworthy data figures, she seems more than satisfied by the speed Ryoko demonstrated. “A most impressive result, as expected. Even faster than Marie’s first 1200m!” 

“Is that so? I kinda just let my emotions take the wheel there.” The spotlight umamusume can't do much but rub the back of her head awkwardly. As politely reserved as she always tries to be, there is still a noticeable prideful glee in her petite smile. 

“Enjoy your record while you still can, Yoko-chan~” Marie teases. “Just so you know, senpai, I do intend to keep aiming ever higher, ohohoho~” The descendant of Mejiro counters, her voice swelling in pitch with a playful egoistic laugh. 

Expertly, Tachyon jumps in between her two favourite guinea pigs, slicing through their little friendly spar. 

“From my observations, it may not be a bad mentality to have.” Memories of her Pokke-kun desperately chasing after her fading form remain vivid in Tachyon’s mind. 

“Yup, especially considering the career goal you decided on.” Both of Marie’s hands shoot into the sky for maximum drama! 

“Bam!!!!!! The Triple Tiara!!!!! I never saw the Prez react like that, it's like she saw a ghost.” 

As fair as it goes, the recently created umamusume did allow her excitement from finally having the body she desired to do the talking. Some of that yesterday’s flame persists in her still, and it is likely the warmth shall remain with her for the rest of her life. Certainly, she felt nothing but bliss when declaring her goal to the Emperor, yet, thinking back on the wording……

Ryoko is powerless to stop herself from turning a deep tomato red out of sheer cringe at her own boisterous statement.

“My name is Mejiro Journey! And I, Ryoko, declare upon my honour, this dream shall see me conquer the Triple Tiaras, for it is the only crown deserving to be worn by my head!” 

Hope and Love. The shimmering glow in the junior umamusume’s amber gemstones, it is as familiar as the day before to the Emperor. 

For that prestigious title, she will need to conquer the Oka Sho, Japan Oaks and either the Shuka Sho or the Queen Elizabeth II Cup. “What an ambitious journey you intend to embark on, Ryoko.” Even now, that old smile remains unforgettable. 

“I have a promise to fulfill too, thus I will follow my aunt’s, Mejiro Ramonu’s footsteps.” The girl sits on the bed’s edge with her hands neatly folded on her lap, expecting something along the lines of a “I see, best of luck to you, then” before Rudolf sends her off to pick up some leased gym uniforms.

One moment of silence passes. Then two moments of silence, three moments, four. 

Five.

Ryoko raises her head, confused, the others are puzzled as well, Tachyon’s eyebrow perks up curiously, Marie leans forward to check her Prez, she has never seen the legendary umamusume frozen before. 

Rudolf’s pupils have shrunken into mere dots, her eyes transfixed at Ryoko, but not looking at her, they pass straight through her, staring at the wall behind, but nothing seems bizarre with it to warrant such an intense gaze. Her colours drain, lips part, words quiver on the precipice. 

Rudolf said nothing, before anyone could question the truth of her expression, she had already returned to her normal encouraging tone. 

“Excellent, I shall follow your career with anticipation, not just as Tracen’s Student Council president, but also as a member of the Symboli Family, rival to your famed Clan. Remember that you still need to take the Academy’s official entrance exam before enrolling.” 

Ryoko could see the corner of her smiling lips twitch. 

“Alright, the break has gone on for long enough, let us return to Yoko-chan’s aptitude test!” A clap from Tachyon brings the Mejiro girl back to attention, she will theorize on the President’s strange reaction later, now’s the time for her next run. “Dear Marie, would you kindly be her running mate?” 

“On it! I’m gonna show you how it is to be marked by another runner, better not get stuck too deep in your head, little kouhai~” 

Walking into position, Ryoko’s face inflates into an adorable pout. “I’m not that much shorter than you.”

“Point taken.” If her upturned lips are anything to go by, then chances are no point was actually taken. “You really are Ai’s sister…” 

Agnes Marie. Ryoko has had the time to study her as a runner, and to be honest, she did not really have a choice in doing so. After all, the umamusume’s unforeseen, absolutely unimaginable explosive appearance on the stage of the Twinkle Series drove the racing world into a frenzy, those were harrowing days for Ryoko as a reporter, having been caught in the maelstrom of hype Marie created. The people wanted their delicious scoops, and she happened to be on the frontline. 

To think that both herself and the record-setter of the Japanese Derby weren’t even born umamusumes, she could not be more glad, everything has truly been a miracle. 

“One!” Tachyon’s blue clipboard rises. The two runners lower their stance. 

“Two!” Late-surging is Marie’s preferred style, so what should Ryoko’s be?. 

She already has an answer for that question.

“Go!”

Agnes Marie lunges! Mejiro Journey follows close! The former is caught with amazement, she has expected the newbie to sprint ahead of her, driven by sheer fervor. Yet, it seems like there is a deeper scheme than simply going fast. Marie’s lips slowly morph into a crescent shape, even in this training run, she can feel that spark, nearing ignition. 

Ryoko has a plan, one learned from the match against the Goddesses. Marie wanted to pressure her, but what if she was the one exerting the disruption instead? From behind, she shall press upon her senpai’s pace to destabilize her rhythm until the moment arrives for her to surge forward. Everything relies on the element of surprise, she will seize it like she did in her dream. 

To achieve victory, she must run on the gold-laid road tailored for her ruby-red shoes, and in her eyes, it is fast approaching. 

This gaze upon Marie’s back, only Bunch has ever projected such intensity. With how Ryoko shadows her every step, this kind of pressing might as well be considered close-quarters combat. It is like she has the tip of a rapier pointing at her back, poised to perform the decisive balestra at any moment it so chooses. 

Something is off, though. The last corner has been passed, and Marie can see Tachyon in the distance with her usual grin. They are near the finish line, less than 100 meters more to go, so where’s the spurt of her tenacious kouhai? 

She needs not wait long for the answer. 

For a snap echoes in her ears, a single fluttering golden butterfly folded from cotton paper ascends into the heaven above. Path established, her compass correcting the course, Mejiro Journey wastes no time surging past Agnes Marie, grasping at the finish line she can nearly hold in her hands. 

At this length, even if Marie were to commence her own spurt, she would not have the time to match Ryoko’s acceleration. Victory is hers, she glances back over her shoulders.

And sees her path of yellow bricks entirely consumed by kaleidoscopic glass, a bed of crystalline roses blooming from its sundered surface, arresting even the motion of a clock's hands.

One of the roses sheds a lonely, glassy petal. The snowball that has grown to surround her on all side caves inward, shattering into six million seventeen thousand five hundred fragments, their inaudible sound threatens to rupture her eardrums.

Purple, has the sky turned purple? No, it hasn’t, it’s just that, she can see herself reflected, ensnared, in Marie’s eyes, the glow of their violet gaze overpowers her amber light with ease. She cannot breathe, the air has been blown out of her lungs. 

“Finish!!!!!” Tachyon throws her lab coat sleeves into the heavens. “The victor is none other than Agnes Marie!” 

“Hah…!” Ryoko gasps for air, her knees buckle and collapse onto the green turf, it hurts even through the protective layer of her sport leggings. “What… what was that?!” 

Marie quickly notices her kouhai’s panicked state, her face stricken with worry. Ryoko can swear it had a blood-curdling smile not ten seconds ago. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“I–” She clenches her tracksuit, hard enough that her knuckles turn white, forcing her breathing to stabilize. “...am fine. I'm fine. Thank you… for your concern.” 

With Marie as support, she carefully gets back on her feet. “Just a bit thrown off, that's all.” That difference in raw strength, Ryoko is going to have to work her butt off to catch up. 

Even so, Tachyon thinks she deserve a short applaud for her tenacity.

“For a beginner with no experience in racing, your performance far exceeded my expectations.” The scientist’s steps are deliberate yet chipper. “You definitely have a talent for dueling other runners, and enough power and stamina to sustain it until you can execute your spurt. Not to mention the wit to scheme.” 

Writing down one last thing on her clipboard, Tachyon makes her concluding statement. 

“I think it’s safe to say you will best excel as a pace chaser on turf, short to medium lengths may allow you to bring out the most of your prowess, but an umamusume never stops at just her base aptitudes!” 

“That’s it for now, take your time to rest up and recover.” 

“Thank you so–” Before Ryoko could finish her sentence, the scientist had taken her treasured notes and speeded away, presumably to start inputting today’s data into her new calculations. 

“There she goes again.” Marie whistles as Tachyon disappears into the tunnel. 

“I suppose she had fun?” The assumption is confirmed by a nod from the umamusume with violet eyes. “Yup, she loves it when umamusumes exceed themselves!” 

Ryoko takes a step forward. 

“Anyhow, we should give the field back to the other students, I need to write what she said down in my journal.” 

And the cleats under her shoes broke off with a soft clang. 

“Oops, seems like that’s as far as leased stuff can go. You know what that means.” Curiosity fills Ryoko, she’s sure there’s only one thing to do. “I should get a new pair?” 

“We should go shopping!” 

The amber-eyed girl didn’t think much about the word “shopping” when her racer senpai mentioned it. She had a certain image in her mind, it would probably be a visit to a shoes shop for umamusumes or a general sports equipment vendor, there are one or two affordable stores near her own apartment, Ryoko doesn’t exactly have the budget to afford anything expensive. In all honesty, she just quit her somewhat decently paid journalist job to go running after her childhood dream, so many parents would have fainted hearing that. 

Thus, here she stands, despite what protests her bank account has to say, in the grandest, most neon-coloured, hedonistic, speakers song blaring, shopping district of Tokyo: Shibuya Special Ward (渋谷区). It would be an understatement to describe this road crossing as simply “full of people”, rather, to give the scale justice, she needs to compare it to the Sea of Japan because this, too, is a sea and there are metric tons of people filling it, each of them dressed in fully one-of-a-kind attires. 

“Welcome to the City, Ai mentioned how you didn’t have a lavish life growing up despite your lineage, so we decided to spoil you for this one Halloween. Like a second birthday!” Marie’s light-brown hair has given way for a reddish-orange wig, her usual Tracen uniform replaced by a collared white dress with long green sleeves. It is a superb Silence Suzuka cosplay, every detail down to the ear ornaments match the original, she could have taken the costume directly from the girl’s closet. 

Compared to Marie, the speechless girl is wearing only her standard gym uniform, her closet didn’t have much in terms of cute get-ups for the occasion. 

“Quite the surprise, is it not, my little kouhai?” A pat lands on Ryoko’s head, she turns around to see Ai with a carrot headband, it looks like the vegetable shot through her skull like an arrow. 

“I… don’t know what to say. You didn’t take anything from loan sharks, right?” The reporter purses her lips at the accusation. “Thank Marie’s prize money for this outing, I’m broke as always!” 

“Now’s the time to let loose, not worrying about budgets. Ryoko-chan needs new shoes and a new wardrobe on top, urgently!” Without any further ado, Marie leads the gang into a gargantuan mall, steaming through the ocean of people like a cruising ship. 

Following Marie’s charted course, they soon make landfall on a boutique selling clothes designed specifically for umamusumes. Ryoko can tell because all of the dresses, skirts, pants and hats have gaps for her tail and ears to fit comfortably. 

“Okay, come out when you’re ready.” 

Slowly, the curtains recede, revealing the birthday girl with flustered cheeks. Her outfit is a flowy white blouse and a black pleated skirt that reaches her ankles, making up a modest complement. 

“What do you think?” The eldest sister puts a finger to her chin. “Too much like work clothes.”

“Ai, you recommended them.” She sinks back into the curtain and out again. 

“And this one?” From top to bottom, a deep violet colour drapes over her body with woven patterns of dark roses on the hem.

The middle sister crosses her hands. “Purple with your mostly black hair kinda makes you look evil.”

“Marie, you gave this dress to me, you said it was your favourite colour.” 

“Let’s try again!” 

For perhaps an hour or two, Ryoko kept switching outfits back and forth, to and fro at the generous recommendations of the sisters. Really, she stopped counting after maybe the twentieth set. With how many combinations of shirts, skirts, colours, and accessories they cycled through, she would not be too astonished if the combined number reached so high it could fill a thousand collages and fashion magazines. Yet, though, none of them struck a major chord in Ryoko’s soul.

Some of the outfits Ai and Marie chose for her were cute, yes, not to discredit them, and she did settle on a few to improve her currently non-existent wardrobe of clothes fitting her present form. 

Nevertheless, there is something… missing. A sort of spark? Nothing among the myriad of clothes has yielded that specific resonance within her. She closes her eyes and sighs, the sisters are still hard at work tearing the boutique apart for the one true fit. Maybe there will be better luck with finding shoes, she will tell them to get going to the next store. 

“How about we move on, I think what we’ve got is already…” 

Her voice goes quiet, falling in pitch, steadily trailing off until it dissolves completely into the murmurs and buzzings of the mall. 

A black parasol. Ryoko sees a woman holding a black parasol indoors, it has to be double the size of her torso, and there are small silver pentagrams descending from it, gently twirling in the air along her graceful gait. Her lips are painted with the dazzling essence of a scorching sun, and if they are the heart of the star, then her eyeliners must form its corona, illuminating the abyssal cosmos with absolute radiance. The umamusume cannot believe her eyes, is that woman’s hair woven from stardust? It cascades down as far as her calves, flowing from silken black into curls of glittering orange.

She wears a long and ornate European dress of Gothic style surely tailored by the hands of master seamstresses, a tightly fastened corset ensures the hourglass shape of her silhouette. Both the sleeves and collar of the dress sport coiling frills, a white cravat holding a glowing emerald is the crown jewel sitting on her chest.

Ryoko’s legs move on their own. Her heartbeat off-rhythm.

“Excuse me, Miss! Can you tell me where you got your dress?” 

The woman stops in her tracks, and turns around, her yellow eyes bear a strange assessing gaze.

“Rosemary Atelier, it's on the fifth floor, near the escalator, you won't miss it.”

“Thank you so much!” A satin gloved hand raises, stopping Ryoko from running away. 

“Before you go, can I ask for your name?”

“Ah, my name is Journey, Mejiro Journey.”

A soft smile manifests on the woman's face. 

“I'm Beatrice Amor, what a pleasure meeting you.” 

“Um, likewise, Miss Amor.” The umamusume glances away, her flustered state appears clear on her face despite her best effort to hid-. 

“Pardon my untimely intrusion, did you say your surname was Mejiro?”

Oh.

Oh dear. 

Heavens have eyes.

Ryoko recognizes that voice.

Of all the places and times, of all the occasions it could have been. Why does Mejiro McQueen just have to be here today?!

Chapter Text

No, it wouldn’t be correct to say that Ryoko did not come up with any plan in preparation for another family meeting. Actually, she was looking forward to it.

At least a part of her was. 

The girl had been pondering about, dreading, that inevitability, ever since the night of the incident. 

With the goals she is determined to see reached, McQueen’s support is vital, if not an outright prerequisite, and perhaps, more importantly, Ryoko wants to apologize for having bothered her so much.

Still, it would be a process both hard to plan for and difficult to carry out.

To start, how would she even begin to explain the intention Gold Ship had when she chose abduction as the method to arrange a friendly talk? 

And the complete, full-stop severance of her branch family from the greater lineage tree? 

Her origin? 

The thing she was before?

Would McQueen understand? Would McQueen be disgusted if she knew? Ryoko had no idea, and that uncertainty kept her restless, ever turning, destroying any hope for a proper night’s sleep. 

So, she shot up from her bed and ran to her desk, flipping open her family’s journal until she finally got to a smooth, shiny page empty of ink while grabbing her favourite yellow ballpoint pen in its holder. Whenever she feels particularly worried, engaging in her most trusted habit helps calm her anxious mind. This one was formulated to deal with a similar unknown during the tougher times of her adolescence.

She would chart the exact steps, down to the most minute, little details, of a grand course to reconnect with her distant cousin. After all, the unofficial member of the prestigious Mejiro Clan has always prided herself as a meticulous individual, a fact Ai Watanabe can support with some annoying testimony if need be.

For many nights, Ryoko was immersed in the work of crafting the perfect flow chart of actions she can take to make up for the kidnapping and get on good terms with her big sis cousin McQueen, a necessary part of her greater journey. It didn’t stop at just one chart either, she would have betrayed her professionalism if she hadn’t made two dozen more Plan B’s. 

Once her cousin understood her unique situation she would reveal her true relation to the Clan, and who she was before Tachyon’s elixir. She will not maintain the deception forever, it is her wish to end the lies as soon as she can prepare.

Because she’s sure McQueen is a good person. Her kindness, elegance, and strength were the traits young Mejiro Journey admired in her aunt, and what Mejiro Journey of present desires to cultivate. Of everyone Ryoko knows, she may be the person closest to understanding what it means to bear this cross of filial responsibility even if she doesn’t look one bit bothered by the burden. 

And, deep beneath the well of her heart, the girl wanted to know what it was to have a real older sister like Marie with Ai. Something simple, maybe brushing each other’s hair in the morning, would have been more than enough. 

You can say, in a sense, Journey got exactly what she initially wished for, another meeting with McQueen to give her apologies.

Just too soon compared to her forecast, so soon that her plans ended up being wastes of good paper and ink. 

“M-McQueen onee-chan!” The sentence stumbles in her throat… “I, um, haven’t seen you in quite some time–” …then steadily fell into a fearful whisper. “–have I?”

The silver-haired Mejiro stares into her soul, utterly unimpressed. “As expected, I definitely do not recognize you, not even from old family conferences.” 

Ryoko does not dare to breathe, the ringing in her ears grows louder and louder until it completely smothers the happy chatter of the mall under its oppressive intensity. She needs a defense, quick, anything to prevent McQueen from finding out who she really is. 

“I just recently returned to the country so–” 

“A weak excuse.” McQueen intercepts, bringing down the edge of her blade forged from words alone, its freezing surface holds the terrified image of Ryoko captive, promising an unavoidable execution.

“No rightful Mejiros ever miss a family conference. Once is ridiculous, a dozen times is inconceivable. I know relatives who flew all the way back from Europe even for surprise summons.” Never did her voice rise into open insult, the perfect elegance maintained, yet her dagger-like gaze told otherwise. “The photos of every conference since 1986 are engraved into my memory, you were in none of them either recent or old.” 

Bizarre. That could not possibly be the case at all. Her transformation has restored the length of her hair to how it was when she was a kid, and the physical effects of his puberty were rewritten as well. 

As patchy as her recollection is, she does remember being dragged against her will to those boring conferences. Shouldn’t McQueen’s eyes be keen enough to recognize the faint similarity? Or was the extent of her family’s erasure even worse than what was written in the old journal? 

“I only acquired this knowledge because someone told me to look into the archives of our family–” 

Blood trickles from her tender palm, she simply felt needed to prove the Mejiros weren't as shining as her cousin held them to be. 

“They gave me a name written on no records, but spoke about something only a select few members of the Mejiro Clan are deemed worthy to access.” 

She wants to run away, she needs to run away, she can’t die here, not now, not yet.

“What a coincidence that I now run into a stranger claiming to be my cousin barely two weeks after that fiasco. “Mejiro” isn’t something insignificant you can easily steal for yourself.” 

It’s too early, she has to leave before her secret gets out or this will be the end of her story, abruptly beheaded before it can crawl a length beyond the starting line. Her legs need to move! Her legs need to move!

“Tell me your name, I want to hear it from you.” 

She screams, she claws in her mind yet regardless of how much she begged those legs to, they can only tremble, there is no escape route, McQueen will not allow that, the truth has to be revealed, the masquerade ends here, she has to stop being a dirty liar, but she cannot say it, she can’t, not that name, it must not be that name. 

“It's…Mejiro… Journey…”

“I meant your REAL name!” The executioner seizes her arm, shackling her in place, that wasn’t the confession McQueen is looking for. “I-I’m sorry, please forgive me…” Her vision is blurred by welling tears, a sobbing plea is all she can muster. 

“You MMHHH?!–” A warm hand muffled the words before they could fire off. “Oooooh McQueen, here you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you~” 

Her smile is so similar to Rudolf’s, radiant in the way it enlightens the space around her. 

“Teio!!” The chestnut umamusume wastes no time stuffing not just one, but two puffy crepes into her friend’s open mouth, calming her nerves with a delicious rush of sugar, a weakness the monarch has come to notice in the refined lady despite her best effort at concealment. “MMPH!!” 

“What….?” Adrenaline still courses through Ryoko’s veins, her heart seized by the lasting terror from nearly having her secret spilled, clearly displayed by her shaking clenched hands and heavy breath.

If not for Teio’s timely intervention, she would have crumbled into an unsightly sobbing mess in the middle of this crowded mall. 

Clasping her hands in apology, Journey’s savior bows at her with an awkward smile. “I’m so so sorry for her actions!!! McQueen is usually really nice, she has just been stressed out lately for some reasons.” 

Teio raises her head, and the moment their eyes meet, her bright blue orbs instantly light up with excited curiosity. 

“Oh? You kinda look like McQueen’s cool aunt! Are you two related??”

Gulping down the confectionery, McQueen quickly offers her protests.

“You haven’t even met my aunt!”

“Eh? I just did though, she’s right behind me.” 

Ryoko tries to wipe her tears using the red sleeves of her tracksuit. “Who did you say…?” Her expression is as confused as McQueen is, the aunt Teio is talking about shouldn’t be her. There’s little chance she could locate her in such a short time, and she must be expecting a different face, right? 

“Well, she told me she was McQueen’s aunt, and her name was–” 

“Mejiro Ramonu.” Beatrice completes Teio’s sentence, gracefully reminding everyone of her presence.

In reply, a voice speaks up. 

It is the same gentle, loving voice Journey remembers from her dreams, the soothing melody that comforted her in hardship and guided her to the future. Without it, she would have no compass to know where she is, or who she was in this sea they call a world. 

“Good evening, Miss Amor. I must say your outfit far exceeds the spectacular descriptions I was given.” 

With a light curtsy, the woman in the elaborate dress moves forward, almost floating off the ground to greet her guest. “Likewise, Miss Mejiro, I see you have managed to arrive perfectly in time per our agreement despite the great tasks you must be occupied with during these past days.” 

McQueen and Ryoko share the same emotion: utter bafflement. Neither of them can believe their eyes, the black-haired one of the two stabs her nails into her flesh with the strongest force she can use without leaving lasting damage.

Red slowly leaks from the wound. This isn’t a dream.

“The matriarch’s responsibilities are indeed great.” Those eyes glowing grey glance at McQueen, bear hugged by who some may call her ‘best friend’. “But even so I cannot afford to be absent for our discussion.” Before settling on Ryoko, standing there with her mouth agape and tears again flowing unimpeded. 

Ramonu’s smile seems to grow as she beholds those new yet familiar amber irises. “So you have met my niece and her best friend, they are adorable together, aren’t they?” 

“Excuse me, Aunt Ramonu.” McQueen’s arm broke through Teio’s grasp, calling out for attention from her older relative. 

“Do you know… her?” 

The silver-haired umamusume gestures to Journey, unmoving where she is. Fear is gripping the girl’s mind while her heart overflows with love. It has been over a decade, has her aunt forgotten about her? She wouldn’t blame her for doing so, there are so many changes they need to catch up on. 

From her new body to the name she now refuses to let go. If only she could talk with Ramonu like they used to. 

“To be honest with you, I am also surprised to see this girl again.” Elegant steps bring her close. 

Close enough that she can see every one of Ryoko’s shiny lashes, her pink peachy cheeks, and the cute mole under her right eye. “If not for Luna, I may have never been informed so soon of her return.” 

A hand caresses her cheek. While the years have claimed a part of its tenderness, this comforting feeling she remembers still. 

“It is a shame I could not be there with you, but I’m glad that you have matured into a splendid umamusume, my beloved Mejiro Journey.” 

The girl struggles through her cascading tears, clinging onto her aunt’s sleeves, wavering voice stricken with disbelief. “How did you know it’s me? I don’t look anything like what I should be.” 

“You may think much has changed, that is true.” Twelve years ago, Ramonu’s smile was the caring light of a full moon, and even now it persists. “Yet, everything stays, in little ways. Your love hidden behind your eyes and that curving lock of hair on top of your head.” 

“Ha… haha–” Laughter, genuine laughter of happiness and joy escapes her mouth as her hands wrap around the Mejiro matriarch. She remembers, her aunt didn’t forget about her. “There, there. You have been waiting a long time for this, haven’t you?” 

“Yes! Yes, Auntie Ranmou!” Her tail dances, flinging side to side with explosive excitement. “I have so many things I need to tell you! About my friends, about the crazy things I went through to get here! You won’t believe this fever dream I had!” 

McQueen can swear she has never seen her aunt smile that warmly before. “Fufu, once we have the proper time to catch up, make sure to tell me everything, I’d love to hear all of your stories.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, you can’t be serious?!” The best actress’ elegance shatters into brilliant pieces from sheer bewilderment, she’s practically jumping into the air, trying to break out of Teio’s firm grip on her waist. “Aunt Ramonu, is she ACTUALLY a member of our family???” 

“Yes, dear, Journey is indeed your cute little cousin.” The amber-eyed girl breaks her hug, and gives her older cousin two big peace-signs with a bonus deadpan face to be the cherry on top of her victory. 

McQueen’s eyebrows violently scrunch together until they nearly fold into one crooked line “But her name was nowhere in the official records!! How am I supposed to believe this?!”

To soothe her confusion, Ramonu offers a sympathetic smile and a soft pat. “Perhaps, you might have put too much faith in those fading pieces of paper? I haven’t even entered that dusty room since months ago.” 

“I stil–” Another reassuring pat stops her while a loving voice tries to put rest to her anxiety. “I know you are worried for the integrity of our family because of her sudden appearance, but you need not hold so much burden on your shoulders.” 

“That’s what I’ve been telling her!” Teio chimes in, concern apparent in spite of her usual positivity. 

“You can have my words that Journey is of the Mejiro’s lineage. I believe she will be better at explaining her circumstances to you than I am.” The girl with silver hair gazes up at her aunt and compares her face to the little cousin she did not know until today.

She has to concede, they do share the same mole and the same white strands in their hair. Those similarities cannot be denied once closely examined.

Closing her eyes to stave off the growing mental fatigue, McQueen lets loose an exasperated sigh. Teio was right, she really should have taken things easier. Even if this Journey girl wasn’t her real cousin, it was too rash and too forceful to accuse her of fraud. She could have very well been an innocent cosplayer or Mejiro admirer, since today is Halloween, after all. 

“Okay, I trust you, Aunt Ramonu, and please let me go now, Teio.” 

“Okie doki~!”

With her body free from being trapped in her teammate’s undefeatable grasp, the crown jewel of the Mejiro Clan lowers her head to apologize, a pang of guilt running through her chest. 

“Please accept my sincere apology for mistrusting you, Journey-chan.”

Though, before she could go low enough to make up for the terrified tears Ryoko shed, the young umamusume has already raised her hands up to halt her. 

“You don’t have to do it! I’m partially to blame for all of this misunderstanding and confusion as well since I wasn’t being exactly honest with you.” McQueen rises, but strays from making direct eye contact. “It doesn’t change the fact that my actions were severely unwarranted and hurtful, I want to do something to make it up for you.” 

Ramonu, flanked by Beatrice, points her index up at the ceiling to make a suggestion. “Luna also told me Journey is still required to take Tracen’s entrance exam due to her lack of experience and formal umamusume education, maybe you can be her tutor?” 

“I will gladly take up the mantle if my cousin also finds it suitable.” She turns to Ryoko, awaiting her answer, which came with no delay. “It would be my honour to be taught by a legend.” 

“Don’t forget about me!! I want to give a hand too!” Both of Teio’s arms fly into the air like an overeager student volunteering for extra work. The young Mejiro couldn’t be happier. “Absolutely! That’d be amazing!” 

Ai and Marie suddenly rocketed out in unison from the boutique, holding a bright pink dress above their head like a trophy of some glorious victory. 

“RYYYOOOKOOO!!! WE FOUND T–IS THAT YOUR AUNT??!?!” 

“Dear guests, PLEASE do not take our products outside the store.” Several blood vessels seem to have already popped in the clerk’s forehead, his twisted smile looks more ready to massacre everyone at the scene than to please his customers. 

“Well, I suppose this is the time to say goodbye.” Ryoko’s head turns to her aunt, amber eyes silently begging for Ramonu not to leave just yet. The matriarch sees her worry well and moves to give her one more embrace. 

“Don’t be afraid, Ryoko-chan, I'm always waiting for the day you fulfill your old promise with me.” 

"The night is young, you should go enjoy Halloween with your cousin and friends, Miss Amor and I have some business to take care of.” Ryoko tightens the grasp around Ramonu, wishing for just a bit more time after so long they spent apart. She is afraid to let go lest she loses her aunt again.

Yet, what shall happen, happens, and with a goodbye kiss planted on the niece's head, Mejiro Ramonu bids farewell to her little Journey, leaving the girl to the care of her friends and cousin. 

“I envy the closeness of your family, Miss Mejiro, and young lady Journey certainly has the potential to be a legendary umamusume. My Trainer side could tell from a glance alone.” 

The matriarch keeps pace with her companion as they march away from the lively group towards the mall’s entrance. The slight stumbling did not go unnoticed by Beatrice. 

“Indeed, the love has been with her since she was little, and despite her tumultuous life, she finally found a miracle for herself. I cannot wait to hear the full length of how she managed to overcome such misfortune.” 

“An unrelenting soul full of love, I’m sure she’s also aiming for the same crowns you did in the past.” 

Ramonu’s chuckles serve to confirm the fashionable woman’s accurate guess, though her smile begins to falter.

“Doctor, do you think fate is a cruel mistress?” 

Beatrice’s yellow gaze extends long into the crowded streets.

“Unseen flows guide us all down mysterious streams. I simply hope that a tranquil lake shall be the destination.” 

“Is that so?” The woman halts, the click of her heels calls her companion to stop before the exit door as well. 

“Personally, I think hope just won’t be enough. Let’s go before they notice.”

Chapter Text

beep beep

beep beep

beep beep 

As the minute hand of a small alarm clock comes to rest at its zenith number, the peaceful quietness of the prior night recedes to give way for a brand new day. Through the blue balcony curtains, small slivers of orange peak in– they are the merry companions of the alarm, here to rouse a girl whose tall ears are the only parts not covered by her blanket. 

Their combined forces– the beeps and the shine, put up a brilliant yet seemingly fruitless campaign in their efforts to awaken the girl until, at last, slight shuffles disturb the pristine surface of the white blanket.

A pale, tender hand reaches outwards from underneath the sheet to end the annoying beepings with a gentle click of the alarm clock. The umamusume draws her blanket to one side, sits up, and stretches her back, expelling the grogginess of awakening from her body with a small popping noise. 

One of her cousin’s classes is scheduled for today, but it’s early, so she can afford to take things a bit casual. 

Slipping into her carrot slippers, Ryoko goes to pull the curtains back, letting her humble abode be illuminated by the morning star. Under the sunlight, her frilly long-sleeved night gown glows a peachy colour, joining hands with the green and white of her aunt’s old birthday gift, still hanging on the front of her wardrobe. 

Turning back to her bed, the girl folds the blanket into a neat rectangular block and smooths out the creases before making her way inside the kitchenette. As is her usual habit, Ryoko switches on the electric kettle first, so that by the time she finishes brushing her teeth, there will be hot water ready for the breakfast tea. 

On Ai’s suggestion, she has gotten herself a yellow scrunchie headband that matches the amber of her eyes, using this will stop her bang from getting wet and messed up when she does her skincare, something she did not realize before. 

Face washes, moisturizer, lotion, and specific creams, a girl’s morning routine is truly tedious, yet, Ryoko doesn’t mind even one second of it, because after she’s done with everything. 

The girl looking back at her in the mirror, and it has to be admitted, is pretty darn cute. 

Gone is that contemptuous gaze. 

As perfectly timed, the electric kettle begins hissing with boiling hot water the moment she finishes her morning hygiene, the girl promptly hops out of her bathroom to unplug the kitchen appliance before it sets itself on fire. From her fridge, she produces a glass container storing about a dozen sugar cubes inside.

Two of the sweet blocks are dropped into her cup of tea, and then a third one, maybe a fourth, too? The hand deliberated, but did it anyway, a sign of something new she noticed about herself a week ago. 

Ever since the day she took Tachyon’s miracle elixir, her attraction to sugary things has undoubtedly increased exponentially, which reminds her of her cousin’s own sweet tooth. 

Was this unhealthy desire somehow hidden in her formerly recessive, now dominant Mejiro genes? Is that how genetics work? What other traits were uncovered?

Tachyon probably has the answers and according to Marie’s account, the scientist also possesses a similar penchant for excessively sweet tea. 

Oh, maybe they could organize one of those “tea parties” in the villainess manga Marie recommended to her. Journey still doesn’t get why her senpai would think that she’s developing the same endearingly annoying arrogance as the titular villainess. 

With her darjeering in one hand and the morning newspaper in the other, the girl sits down to enjoy her breakfast of toast and jam. Every bite of the bread is delicious even when she has always eaten the same meal for the last few years, the girl finds herself wondering if the bakery changed its ingredients. Truly, though, it was her who changed. 

“That’s a Bunch, a look-back of her first G1 victory two years ago… The disappearance of Still in Love and her trainer?” Ryoko mumbles the headlines out loud as she sips on her tea. 

She’d love to hear the insider rumours behind this mystery, but she isn’t an agent of this snooping industry anymore. In the near future, her name will probably end up among these scoops, a prospect both terrifying and exciting. 

For now, what matters is that the clock is approaching 7:00, and she needs to get dressed for her classes. 

The wardrobe once holding nothing but the same suits and ties and non-descript shirts has blossomed with new fabrics and colours, Ryoko’s hand dances from one to the other until it settles on a particularly cutesy blouse, balanced out by a more formal black pleated skirt. 

Before long, her doorbell announces the arrival of her tutor. 

“I still can’t believe this is where you have been living this whole time…” McQueen’s voice trails off, painted with a regret for her cousin’s childhood. 

Journey remains cheerful, she has gotten used to frugality. “It’s certainly a far cry from the mansion; however, all of the necessities are there, right?” 

“That doesn’t make things any better.” The silver girl sternly asserts. “Because of you, I realised just how many amenities I have taken for granted. You deserve more as a Mejiro.” 

“Well, I’m not technically a Mejiro, and it's a waste to fuss over the past. How about we get on with the class?” 

Purple gaze follows Journey’s back as she retreats to grab a bowl of snacks and some green tea, the quick changing of topic not escaping its attentive watch. McQueen knows her cousin wasn’t born an umamusume, she told her as much, yet the extent of the Mejiro Clan’s effort to erase her from the records give rise to so many questions, ones too sensitive for her to pry into right now. 

She already caused her cousin enough trouble on Halloween, but the days will come when Journey grows ready to share her full burden.

She hopes.

There is, fortunately, no doubt about the girl’s strength, McQueen is confident that the love of racing burning bright in her cousin’s heart will illuminate her path. Despite everything, Mejiro Journey is an umamusume, through and through, her determination to go as far as the kidnapping has proven her worthy in McQueen’s eyes.

“Alright, let us linger no longer then.” Her posture rises, assuming the grandiose and wise tone of a learned teacher. “With the new year near, our remaining preparation time for the entrance exam is fast dwindling. As you already knew, Tracen doesn’t just look at the physique, but also the wit and guts of an umamusume, hence the existence of the written test and the mock concert.”

The tutor pauses to judge the attention of her student. 

A satisfying reply is given by the shining fire in Journey’s amber eyes. McQueen continues, that flame spreading to her smiling lips. 

“Teio has got your concert test covered. As for me, from today until a week before the exam, brace yourself to answer my lightning quizzes!” 

“Understood, sensei! I won’t disappoint you!” 

“I like that enthusiasm! With no further ado, the quiz begins now!” Ryoko’s gaze sharpens, her breathing focused as McQueen flips out a thick bundle of flashcards. 

“First question! What is the distance of the Arima Kinen?” 

Without missing a beat, Journey shoots back– “2500 meters!”

"Correct! Currently, the Triple Tiara series includes the Oka Sho, Japan Oaks, and the Queen Elizabeth Cup! True or False?”

"False! From 1996 onwards, the third leg became the Shuka Sho!” A toothy grin manifests on her face. "I still remember getting this wrong before!”

"Excellent, you did your homework as I said. Next! In a race with 8 runners, how many gates and brackets are there?”

"8 Gates! 8 Brackets!”

"And what if there are 9?!”

"Then it will be 9 gates, 8 brackets! The eighth and ninth gates are grouped into one bracket!”

“That's not all! Explain why each individual runner does not get their own bracket?”

“Obviously, because the maximum number of brackets is eight, even when the number of runners exceeds that!”

“Amazing!” McQueen’s hands clap in celebration. “Now here’s a breather question, what is the motto of Tracen Academy?” 

“Eclipse First, The Rest Nowhere!” 

“Right! Though your English pronunciation needs some polish.” The student nods up and down while noting her tutor’s critique into her worn journal. 

“In the second part, we will go through racing strategies. Do you need a break?” 

“You can send the questions my way!” Gulping down the green tea in front of her, she reinvigorates herself. 

“I expect no less from a member of our bloodline. Then, could you explain the ‘Kamikaze’ oonige style?” 

Journey closes her journal, tapping its spine according to a rhythm she innovated specifically to encode her cousin’s teachings into her memory. 

“A variant of the Great Escape strategy employed by special Front Runners. Normally, umamusumes using the ‘precise’ version like Silence Suzuka create a head start lead before conserving stamina during the mid-race.” 

“However!” A bang echoes from the impact between the wooden table and the hardcover of Ryoko’s family diary, McQueen’s face lights up with surprise. “Kamikaze escape is front running in its most simplistic interpretation: the umamusume runs as fast as she can to create the biggest lead, not slowing down until the last leg! I have seen our relative, Mejiro Palmer, utilize this running style to some success.” 

“Indeed, Palmer is known for this queer style of hers, alongside her friend Daitaku Helios. I’m impressed by your extra research.” 

A rising cherry colour on her cheeks betrays what attempts Journey has at being stoic. “It’s unlikely I will ever use it since I’m better at pace, but it’s good to know, in case an opponent uses it, you know?” 

She is so fatally weak to praise. 

That fact, her cousin knows as well. “You don't have to be so reserved.” 

“I believe we can conclude today’s quiz here, the class is dismissed.” 

“So soon?” Ryoko clutches her book. “We haven’t gone through the other tactics yet.” 

“Worry not, it was Teio who asked me to wrap things up sooner than usual. It seems she’s planning a special class for you today.” An amber painted curiosity fills the room. 

“Really? Do you know what it is?” 

“The chestnut apparently found herself required to hide the details. She simply gave me an address and told me ‘not to spoil the fun’.” 

“If she needs to be secretive, then it has to be something exciting! I need to get going!” The young umamusume springs into action, giddy anticipation clearly displayed on the corners of her lips.

“Wait! Before your departure.” McQueen reaches into the inner pocket of her coat for a small object, white and green in colours. “I commissioned the craftsmen of our clan to make this ear ornament for you, please consider it my Christmas gift.” 

The accessory is small, only enough to fit in one palm, but it was a bow woven from the Mejiro clan’s traditional colours and a present given with love. There is a braided rope attaching a tiny pair of golden compasses to the ornament, completing it. 

“This…” Clear water well in her eyes as they lay upon the gift. “Thank you, thank you so much! Can you put it on for me?”

“Of course, Journey-chan, I will be glad to.” With a gentle touch, the elder cousin fixes the ornament on her little sister’s left ear, making sure it won’t ever fall off, no matter how fast she runs, no matter where her journey will take her because it isn’t just a gift, it’s also her wish as well. 

This tender moment, Ryoko shall cherish deep within the well of her heart, so she will always remember what family truly means.  

“It fits you perfectly! Now, let’s go before we keep Teio waiting for too long.” 

“I will keep it safe, oneechan!” 

Between the descending snow flakes, a hanging pair of gold compasses dances in the air, along the rhythm of its owner’s graceful movement through the white-covered ground. Where McQueen pointed to is just past the next corner, Ryoko’s second tutor should be waiting for her there– and despite the cold breeze of winter, the umamusume with amber eyes feels only the warmth of spring’s promise inside her chest. 

“Ah! You two are here, precisely on time!” Teio’s smile is as warm as ever, whatever frost is instantly blown away by her chestnut radiance. 

The younger Mejiro cannot contain her excitement either, jumping forward with little of her frequent reservations. “Teio-sensei, what are we doing? I see we’re not practicing at the karaoke like other days?” 

With a finger pointing at the heavens, Teio’s voice surges to a crescendo, as if declaring before all of posterity the momentous occasion. She certainly is successful at drawing the attention of the whole city block.

“Very observant, my dear student! Your performance skills have improved much, but today, you will get a taste of an actual audience, this is the most important lesson for a successful winning live!” 

On cue, a figure sprints out from behind the nearby alleyway, leaping high into the air despite the apparent age showing in the wrinkles on her face. “Greetings, everyone!~ Miss Teio told me to wait here until she gave the signal!” 

“Mejiro Journey, Mejiro McQueen! Meet miss Tomei!” The chestnut girl throws her arms out in a grand presentation for the older umamusume, which earns a slight chuckle from her silver-haired teammate. 

“Geez, I hope that entrance had the same forza kickin’ in me from 1971! Anyhow, I’m Tomei, ex-racer, and present humble daycare attendant~ To be honest, I’m still shocked to receive not one, but two Mejiros.” Her smile radiates the same kindness as a mother bird to her flock; retired she is, yet her ‘forza’ remains, now dedicated to a caring pursuit.

“It’s our honour to meet you. As Teio already said, my name is Mejiro McQueen.” The amber-eyed girl follows close after her cousin with a small curtsy. “Good morning, miss Tomei, please call me Journey, Mejiro Journey, if you may.” 

“Awww, I can’t handle this noble energiaaaa. Teio-chan, I don’t know how to thank you enough.” 

“Hihi, it’s nothing, miss, I knew I had to bring them when you told me about the event!” 

Like a student asking their teacher, Ryoko’s hand shyly raises. “Um, if I may ask, what event are you talking about?” 

“Oh yes!” Tomei brightens, producing a colourful flyer from her coat pocket. “There will be a small Christmas concert for the children at the orphanage I’m working at. Teio-chan has been one of our most regular volunteers, and she basically jumped onto me when I handed her the announcement.” 

“That’s the surprise I’ve been trying to keep quiet about! The kids are so excited for the show, you have to see their shiny eyes!” 

“Wait– wait a minute–” Journey points to herself, eyebrows twisted with fear. “You mean that I, me, will be performing on stage? But I don’t have any real experience, I barely know enough choreography, let alone having to sing too…” 

The ahoge on top of her head seemingly deflates in worry, ears curving downward. She doesn’t doubt her skills as much as she fears being a disappointment.

“What if I end up not being like their expectations?” 

Letting out a sigh, her cousin chimes in. “You know you’re more capable than what your anxiety says.” 

“Journey-chan, if you are afraid of not having the experience, now’s exactly the time to build experience.” A reassuring hand lands on her shoulder. “Plus! You won’t be alone since we will be with you on the stage too!” 

“Yes, ‘we’. I somewhat anticipated this turn of events as it’s all so…” McQueen searches for the right word, but there is nothing more correct than “... Tokai Teio.” 

“I suppose I can try my best…” She’s relieved that both of her teachers will do their hardest to support her, though the anxiety lingers on. 

“Oh bambina, you won’t know what you can do until you try~” The winner of 1971 Arima Kinen does have a rather soothing quality to her voice. “I will get you three ready, the live is going to start in about an hour!” 

To practice in a karaoke room is one thing, to imagine performing is another thing, but to actually stand on the stage, waiting for the curtains to rise, feeling every bit of the miss Santa costume on your skin and the expectant gazes of the audience; Journey concludes to no one except herself, it's a whole different beast. 

Before her transition, she would have high-tailed out of situations like this, much easier than tackling them head on and screwing things up due to her own inexperience, but the present calls to her. Those children outside, unfortunate to have no one they can call mom or dad, she could envy their innocence. Today may become one of the moments they cherish for the rest of their lives like how she holds on to the recovered memory of her aunt. 

Whatever the case is, she must do everything she can, she cannot let them down. 

“Alright, our song is ‘Make Debut’, simple beginner’s level, it will be the one you perform after winning your first race too.” The confidence on Teio’s face is incredibly contagious, the young umamusume can feel it infecting her. 

“Steady as you go, Journey-chan.” 

With the final encouraging words spoken by McQueen, the velvet curtains pull back to reveal the wide auditorium, packed full with glimmering eyes fixed onto the three performers; onto Ryoko at the center. The student taps her foot to the opening notes, she remembers them well from constant practice, yet, most importantly, she has oughta put Soul in it! 

響け ファンファーレ (hibike fanfaare)

届け ゴールまで (todoke gooru made) 

輝く未来を君と見たいから (kagayaku mirai o kimi to mitai kara) 

Her body moves on its own, the song’s melody guiding her footwork as the chorus launches forward, she can see with her bare eyes; the latent light dwelling in her, in every umamusume. A natural call to sing and dance, she shall heed it well! 

Make Debut! 

Beads of sweat turn into starbursts, the stage’s light refracting off them to create exploding multitudes of vibrant colours spreading through the entirety of the massive auditorium. Sparkles from the audience’s pure, innocent eyes join hands with her performance, erupting in thunderous cheers despite their small forms. 

The children are not the only people mesmerized either, for Journey is as captured by the concert as her audience, so much so that she almost spun herself into a daze, only to be saved by McQueen and Teio’s steadying hands. 

In a split second, she surges forward again, determined to maintain the concert’s flow.

走れ 走れ 誰より速く (hashire hashire dare yori hayaku)

いつか笑える (itsuka waraeru)

As her fellow idols sing their part, Ryoko gets to have the finish line all to herself. 

I believe

夢の先まで

“yume no saki made…~” With the Tracen practice track empty of many people at this early hour except for her, Ryoko feels comfortable humming to the tune of the song that helped her ace the mock concert test. 

It was indeed daunting, but the teaching of her tutors and the New Year shrine visits paid off. She was admitted to her dream school with flying colours. 

“Mejiro Journey-chan!” 

A call interrupts the umamusume’s reminiscing hums, the voice is one she did not expect to hear again, making her solo training sprint grind to a stop before its source. 

“Miss Beatrice?! Why are you here?” 

The woman is dressed as flashily as the Halloween Night when she first met Ryoko, her head framed by a puffy blonde boa scarf that resembles a lion’s mane. For the make-up, it seems a trademark of her to have thick eyeliners mimicking something flying, avian wings? Perhaps? 

“Ramonu informed me about your successful exam, congratulations!” 

A teeny tiny mention of her aunt is enough to make Journey jump up with happiness. “Ah, I forgot that you and her are friends, what did she say about me? Oh wait, you don’t have to say it.”

“Despite how busy she is these days, Ramonu didn’t spare any words while praising you, she even convinced me to come to Tracen for you, specifically.” Beatrice chuckles, anticipating another question from her friend’s adorably curious niece. 

“She told you to find me? I’m not sure what could be the big reason?” 

“See, dear. You’re in a situation that people often call ‘being scouted’.” To back her words with credibility, the lioness proudly displays her license, stamped with the mark signifying a professional Trainer of the Central Area. “What do you think? If we start tomorrow, you could debut by September.” 

The Trainer can see a torrent of thoughts flash behind the umamusume’s amber irises live as her form seems to morph into a squishy amorphous blob. “Huh?? Hah?? This, this isn’t nepotism, right??” 

“I can assure you, it isn’t. Although your aunt did give me the suggestion, it was I who actively sought you out, she did not bribe me or anything of that kin–” 

A terrifying presence reveals itself to Beatrice, trampling her mouth shut before she could finish her explanation; her body petrified by the sheer horror cascading down her spine, completely unbeknownst to the overly giddy Mejiro girl.

“It would be my honour to be a trainee of someone so elegant!!! I actually prepared a sort of list of goals and wishes I’d like to accomplish during my career. I wrote them all down in my journal.” Before she darts away to grab her bag, the girl stops to look at her soon-to-be Trainer’s face. 

“Oh, there’s a butterfly on your nose.” As if having accomplished its purpose, the cute insect flutters its wings away. “Goodbye, little one!” 

Beatrice’s eyeliner and eyeshadow have broken up into black streaks running down her face, the tears smearing them into diluted puddles. She fights through the fearful sobs to thank her future trainee, her savior from the terrible beast with many legs.

“Th– thank you. You saved me…” 

Journey could only stare back with dumbfounded eyes. 

“She’s afraid of bugs?”