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It is a Friday afternoon, and Oguri Cap is feasting.
Away she digs, clawing at her meal as though her very soul depends on it, scoffing it down with a powerful enough voraciousness that the steaming rice did not even hurt, nerves dulled by an appetite simply too powerful for something so pitiful as pain to halt her advance. Egg and fish and delicious fried vegetables tumble down her oesophagus in a ceaseless slurry of which she savours each and every inch of.
Her body does the rest, enzymes and acid alike break apart every carbohydrate, every lipid, every protein. Her cells gorge themselves on calories, muscles breaking apart and reshaping themselves with every peptide absorbed through her guts - unending metabolism forges stronger flesh, the core of her being a crucible like the centre of a star.
Well, not as far as Oguri Cap was concerned. When it came to the exact processes of energy production that her bottomless pit of a digestive system underwent, she was not one to think too hard about it. Come to think of it, she never really thought much of most complex things. Her two greatest talents were running and eating, and aside from her friends and rivals, she was content to let the rest of the world float right by.
So when Super Creek and Inari One, her fellow diners for today’s lunchtime, had begun a discussion surrounding their trainers and their love lives, she had more or less decided to instead focus on her meal.
“And I swear, all he talks about is this girl he keeps having dinner with! What about my training?”
Loud as she is, Inari’s voice blends into the noisy atmosphere of Tracen central cafeteria, but Super Creek regardless waves for her to lower her voice, suppressing a giggle with the other hand. “Well, I suppose there are other important things than racing, especially for the older folk. Mr Trainer is probably thinking about those sorts of things at his age.”
Her diplomatic response does little to calm the younger girl, who expresses her discontent with a growl. Oguri Cap finishes cleaning her current plate with the speed of a pressure washer, and her eyes immediately glue to the untouched Yakisoba bowl that Inari has ignored in favour of talking. Remembering her manners, the ashen haired Uma extends a hand out and hums a question through a full mouth.
Despite the words being indecipherable, Inari clearly understands her meaning, rolling her eyes as she presses the bowl forward. Oguri gives another hum, higher in pitch and shuts her eyes to communicate her thanks as she re-appropriates the meal. Besides her, previously uninterested in the conversation, Tamamo Cross puts her own empty tray aside before clearing her throat.
“So, was that midnight snack I made for ya not big enough?”
Resting her cheek in her palm, Oguri pauses in her chewing as the memory of the early morning returns to her. That golden brown batter, and with such grand flavour contained within…goddesses, to return to that moment now…
In response to such thoughts, her stomach rumbles loud enough for the trio seated with her to hear. They do not even look remotely surprised. Remembering she had been asked a question, the Uma shakes her head to deny. “No, of course not Tama! Your cooking was really good! I just got so hungry again when I woke up…”
After her time in the twinkle series had drawn to an end, her return to Tracen as a member of the senior cohort had been blessed with her fortune in roommate assignment. Fate (or perhaps a knowing decision from the student council) had her sharing her home with her rival turned friend. Oguri had been elated, and every day she woke to the sight of Tama filled her with that same elation once more.
But one thing their rivalry had never explored before was how brilliant a chef Tamamo Cross was. Oguri could never claim to be a light sleeper, but once the other Uma had concocted her first post lights-out delicacy, their nightlife had never been the same. And every time Oguri made her admiration of her roommate's culinary prowess clear, Tama would grin from ear to ear.
That very same grin was now plastered on the shorter girl’s face. “Heh! Well, I’ll never deny a compliment to my own cookin’. Not that I don’t already know how great it is!”
Nodding, Oguri lets out another affirmative ‘mmhmm’, trying her best to smile despite her lips being occupied with the noodles she was draining into her stomach at an alarming rate. Were her mouth not currently full, she would be telling Tama that she’d complement her cooking for the rest of her life.
Across the table Super Creek turns back to the Uma beside her. “Besides, even we won’t be running forever. It’s always important to think about your future. Maybe you’ll be getting married one day!”
Inari One’s laugh comes more like a sputter, as though the idea of matrimony brings her physical disgust. “As if! I’m going to keep racing for the rest of my life!” Oguri Cap, despite her less than keen interest in the subject, nods along with that statement, which clearly emboldens her fellow country Uma.
“Well,” Creek delicately takes a sip from her glass. “I suppose maybe some aspects aren’t to everyone's taste. Having children, changing your last name, moving in.”
As Inari makes a comical gagging sound, Tama leans forward. “Do many Uma Musume change their last names? Some don’t even have one.”
“Well, per Japanese laws, married couples must keep the same legal last name.” Super Creek straightens her back as the last of her own dishes are emptied, leaving Oguri the last to finish. “Since many Uma Musume inherit their names and wish to keep them, most would simply attach the taken name to the end. I will likely end up doing the same. Oh, but who knows.”
A wistful look appears on the older Uma’s face as she curls both hands together and places them to her breast. Inari One pulls a face.
“Well, if it means I have to change it, then marriage is a no for me! I’m always gonna be Inari One!”
Chuckling again at her friends’ vehement denial, Super Creek turns her gaze back across the table. “What about you, Ms Oguri? Would you keep ‘Cap’ in your name if you got married?”
“Huhm?” Caught with her mouth full, Oguri Cap must spend a few moments swallowing before she can start to formulate her answer. “I’m not sure. I’ve never really been married.”
“Ya know, I’d be really surprised if ya had.” Tama mumbles. Super Creek presses again.
“But, if you ever did find that special someone, do you think you would like them to have your last name, or to take theirs? I suppose it might depend on who you marry…”
As the older Uma begins to ruminate by herself, Oguri Cap tries to consider the question a second time. She knows what marriage is, of course, when two people who had a special connection decided to live together for the rest of their lives. Despite the importance that many of her classmates placed on what seemed like an inevitable fate, it was something she had almost never considered. Her life’s goals had never had really been beyond the scope of the track. And the cafeteria.
But as the others all look on, she does her best to find an answer. Special connection. Living together. Well, now that she gave it a bit of thought…
“Tamamo Cap…”
Spoken aloud, it doesn’t sound so bad. Oguri supposes that starting with the same letter makes their last names interchange more smoothly. Mulling over it, she thinks the idea of Oguri and Tamamo Cap, sitting in their little dorm room forever...maybe Super Creek was onto something.
Bending her head back down, she redirects her cooling chopsticks back into the bowl and withdraws another clump of Yakisoba. Her eyes close in bliss as the previously interrupted flow of savoury deliciousness resumes once more.
A loud thunk shakes Oguri from her stupor before it can fully re-envelop her, and she swings her head sideways. Tama has turned as red as her ear covers, and a pair of chopsticks lies scattered on the table, having fallen from her hand. Across the table, Super Creek has both hands over her mouth and Inari One’s eyes have ballooned in size. As Tama slowly turns to face her, their gazes meet and the moment of silence ends.
“EHHHHH???”
And now the hubbub of the full cafeteria is no longer loud enough to conceal the screech that comes from Tamamo Cross’ mouth, and every pair of eyes turn onto their table. Many of them wear shocked expressions, and a few laugh at the outburst. Oguri cannot help but be aware of all of them as she wonders why Tama is so upset. "Tama, your face is all red, are you okay-"
“OGURI WHAT THE HECK ARE YA SAYIN’?” Oguri’s ears flatten against her head as the immediate response causes her to jump. Almost immediately, Tama goes quiet, glancing around at the crowd, before she draws in a deep breath and her face returns to its usual colour. With the silence stretching out, most of the onlookers lose interest, and the chatter resumes. As soon as she is finished exhaling, Tama resumes her interrogation with a slightly lowered volume.
“And why’d ya assume I’d take ya last name? Huh?” A pair of gasps from across the table go completely unacknowledged as Tama looks directly at her, hands against her hips.
Oguri Cap hums to herself. She hadn’t actually thought of that option. But of course, Tama had also fought with every ounce of strength she had to cement herself as a racing legend. She’d expect no less from her rival. Oguri leans back into her chair, repeating her proposed new name in her mind.
“Oh!“ Her tail swishes as a smile comes to her face. “Well, Oguri Cross does sound pretty good as well! If you really wanted, I could take your last name?” It would be selfish of her to force her own name onto Tama, especially if the other Uma was always cooking for her.
“I-uh-” Clearly not expecting such brazen acceptance, Tama squawks like a strangled bird and her face regains the shade of tomato red as she sits, unresponsive for a few moments. Oguri feels uncertainty creep into her guts as she waits for a response. Was…was I not supposed to say yes? Was she just making a joke?
Wait! Maybe she’s sick!
Just before Oguri raises her hand with the intention of checking the smaller Uma’s temperature, Tama coughs a single time. “I mean, what are you talking about my name for? We aren’t even dating!”
Inari One’s whisper about ‘denial’ to a furiously nodding Super Creek is likely audible on purpose, and both of them are clearly holding back laughter when Tama whips around to glare.
“Oh…” Oguri’s ears retreat back against her hair. She’s not quite sure what she’s done wrong, but her enthusiasm to participate in the conversation has caused her to error, it seems. “I’m sorry.”
The moment the words come out of her mouth, Tama’s face visibly softens, and the other Uma scratches the back of her head. “Aww, it’s alright Ogurin, I was just a little shocked by it an’ all. I know ya weren’t trying to do anythin’ weird.”
Her friend's forgiveness isn’t quite enough to quell the feeling in her belly, and she knows the gnawing of hunger far too well to get them confused. Did Tama not really like her last name? Was Oguri not special enough for that?
“It’s just,” Tama reaches for her water glass and takes a few sips before continuing, “Ya can’t just go around talkin’ about marryin’ everyone. It’s gotta be someone really close, who ya go with on dates and stuff.”
But we’re already really close, is the phrase that comes to Oguri’s mind, but the remark about dates gives her pause. Again, she’s familiar with the concept of outings between couples, but her inexperience in the matter will probably lead to her saying something stupid again. So instead, she attempts to find clarification, if only to avoid upsetting her friend in the future. “And how do I go on a date?”
“Ah, well,” Super Creek has another smile on her face as she places her hands on the table to emphasise her explanation. Oguri, glad that the older woman seems so willing to share her wisdom, begins listening intently. “You ask the person if they want to go with you, and then you both decide on a location, or maybe an activity that you want to do together.”
“Yeah.” Placing down the glass, Tama appears to have returned to her usual self. “Stuff like getting a meal together, or watching a movie. Then it can lead to other stuff, ya know, more romantic.”
“But they gotta say yes!” Inari One joins in with a raised finger. “A date is only fun if both of you really want to do it! If someone says no you have to accept that. Trust me!”
Nodding along, Oguri feels the pieces begin to come together. Beside her, Tamamo Cross frowns at the pointing Uma. “Have ya even been on a date, Inari?”
“Have you?”
As Tama begins bragging about how her drive for racing is way more important than finding a relationship, Oguri turns back to Super Creek. She just needs to be absolutely sure.
“So I start by asking her for the date?”
Creek’s eyes widen once more, and she tries very hard to keep a straight face as she nods. “Yes! That’s often one of the hardest steps, but…” As she trails off, her eyes rapidly flicker between Oguri and the oblivious Uma beside her. “But I’m sure that if you were honest about how you felt, and took things slow, you should be just fine!”
There’s an unmistakable emphasis on the speed of her approach, and timing her velocity is something Oguri is quite good at, so the ashen haired girl nods with a confident smile. “Oh, I get it.” Turning, she calls out to her roommate. “Hey, Tama?”
Midway through a heated discussion about ‘track rivalries’ Tamamo Cross cuts herself off and leans off the table she’d been awfully close to standing on. “Yeah, Oguri?”
Placing down her chopsticks, Oguri waits for Tama to be paying full attention, mustering her own full focus. She needs to get this perfectly right. “Do you want to go on a date and get married?”
“Uh-ooh-” Super Creek’s mouth opens, and then closes after a half second of frantic hand movements. Beside her, Inari One bursts into laughter and points another finger directly across the table. Unlike before, when she had been beet red and yelling, Tama's reaction is more subdued. The White Lightning sits completely still, shadowed eyes looking down at her empty plate.
After what seems like an eternity, Tama flicks her eyes up to meet Oguri’s. “Ya…ya really ain’t kiddin’ about that… l-last name thing, are ya?”
“No!” Oguri vigorously shakes her head, and when Inari One audibly facepalms, rushes to correct herself. “B-but we don't have to do that right now.” Feeling her vigor waver, she glances back at her wing-women, who gesture encouragingly. ”We could just go running! Or maybe out for lunch! Or…or…oh…”
“Or maybe just to the Tenno Autumn Festival this weekend?” Super Creek interjects just as she begins to flounder. Oguri catches on and nods enthusiastically while the older girl gives her a double thumbs up. The other spectator continues to roll around in her chair, now clutching her stomach as she cackles.
“Ohmygoddesses I’m gonna throw up-”
“OI! SHUT IT!” The more familiar Tamamo Cross rears her head in that moment, although when the smaller Uma turns back to face Oguri, she immediately dips her eyes downward.
“Oh. I-uh-“ Tama stumbles over her words. “Man, I really wasn’t expectin’… that when I woke up…um- you really, uh, want to- like, with me?”
Seeing her roommate, usually so bright and proud, with her head hung low and struggling to maintain her composure, Oguri cannot help but think that Tamamo Cross is absolutely adorable.
Even with the question half articulated, she nods as hard as she can. She wants there to be no doubt. All that energy she had felt. Crossing the line just inches apart. Every practice run. That loneliness when her rival had departed. Oguri, not well known for her smarts, understood all of those feelings now.
There was no doubt for her either.
A grin threatens to tear her face in two and she cannot keep from laughing at how Tama's eyes grow wide.
“Heh.” After a few moments, Tama chuckles as well, her bowed head not quite concealing the dusting of pink across her cheeks. “So stupid. Ya only supposed to get my heart goin’ when we race.”
Creek can’t hold in a tiny squeal, but Oguri does not even twitch in her direction. The tiny upcurving of her rivals lips is the only sight she can see, the rest of the world dark and quiet as though time itself has paused to wait for an answer.
Placing a hand over her eyes, Tama shakes her head with a long sigh. “Why don’cha try again?”
The tension in the air vanishes almost instantly. “Huh?”
Her rival huffs out another laugh, eyes trailing back down to the floor. “Try askin’ me again. All that weddin' talk is super weird, y’know. Plus it makes me feel old. If ya gonna be askin me this stuff at least do it right.”
Across the table, Inari One and Super Creek begin to squirm, the younger girl clutching the older’s arm like a lifeline. Oguri takes a moment before the comprehension comes to her. “Oh!”
Well, whether it became Oguri Cross or Tamamo Cap, she was never a person to let thoughts of the far future distract her from tomorrow. Straightening her back, Oguri Cap summons her best smile. “I- Do you want to go on a-”
“-Of course I-I’ll go on a date with ya, ya dummy.” Tamamo Cross, fingers pinching her nose and seemingly unable to meet her gaze, answers the question before it’s even finished, just loud enough for Oguri to hear.
A giddy warmth floods every inch of the ashen beast’s body, like the shiver of relief that comes with a meal after a long day, only dozens of times more potent. That feeling of strength after first place, a reassurance that the miracle of her life would only continue forward, and, just maybe, forward with Tama running alongside her.
Goddesses, the thought of it. Crossing the finish line, time and time again, the face she would inevitably see there, each and every detail etched into her memory from that day years ago. For a moment, Oguri thinks that the sensation will consume her and she might explode into stardust then and there.
But, I mustn't forget Ms Creek's advice. I have to take it slow. Drawing a deep breath, Oguri manages to prevent herself from hyperventilating, though her body still tingles with a strange energy that she can’t quite name. Twisting back to sit in her seat properly, she remembers where she is and tries to resummon her confidence. “O-oh, that’s great! Um…”
“WELL! Looks like it's time for training, Inari!” She jumps in her seat as Super Creek suddenly stands, pulling the other girl to her feet with her. “Have a good afternoon you two!”
“Thank you for the advice, Ms Creek!” Oguri calls out her farewell as the two disappear into the crowd. Beside her, Tama mumbles something under her breath and waves a feeble hand. As her roommate remains unresponsive, Oguri glances back down to the lukewarm yakisoba and grabs her chopsticks.
She takes a mouthful, chews and swallows it. Then she glances back over at Tama, who idly taps her fingers against her leg.
Oguri takes another mouthful. And another.
The chime of the bell signalling the end of lunchtime echoes through the cafeteria hall. Around them, the students all begin to stand and leave for the exits. The sound appears to rouse Tama from her trance and she jerks upright, both their gazes meeting for just a few seconds.
“Well, I-I’ll see ya after class, I guess.” Tamamo Cross, red in the face once more, hops down from her seat and scuttles toward the door. Oguri is not quite sure if the small tinge of disappointment in her belly is from the end of lunch, or from watching her leave.
Just as she nears the door, her rival stops in place, then she spins on her heel. A much larger grin, toothy and so very Tama-like, flashes across her face with the ferocity of lightning, before the girl rockets down the hallway.
Disappointment soundly annihilated, Oguri feels deep, lively laughter spill out from her belly. Bowl in her hands forgotten, she squeezes her shoulders inward and trembles with delight. Oh, it takes every ounce of restraint she possesses to not throw Creek's advice to the wind and run after her.
But Oguri can be patient. Yes, she is quite assured that she can be.
Now, when is that festival next week? And when did the afternoon classes end?