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McQueen sips her tea, leaning back in her chair and sighing. She’s had afternoon tea for as long as she can remember, so she should be feeling calmer by now. After all, the view is better than ever, with a neatly arranged garden in her yard with all her favorite flowers, and her tea has been meticulously perfected to her liking over all these years. Having tea in a garden while the sun warms her is all she ever dreamed of for her post-retirement life. Yet, she feels… restless. Unsettled. Anxious, even.
McQueen stares at her tea cup. It’s already almost empty, and yet she hasn’t enjoyed it at all. She makes it the same way every day, but today, it tastes bland.
She shakes her head, brushing the thought away. She’s only been retired for a few months. This is simply an adjustment period. She’s not used to living alone yet; of course she would feel strange so shortly after changing her entire routine. She’ll get used to it, and this feeling will go away.
She has more important things to focus on, anyways. Like her fan mail, which she reviews every day right after her tea time. This time, since it was such a beautiful day, she had brought them out to the garden with her. Even in her retirement, she gets mail from fans and even from people she’s inspired. It’s her favorite part of the day, so it’s only natural she would take the time to reply to each and every one of them.
She lifts the pile of mail she had set off to the side and readjusts them on her table. As she sets them down again, she hears one fall to the ground. She hurries to make sure it isn’t damaged, but stills when she realizes it isn’t a letter at all. It’s a business card.
Curious, McQueen picks it up, flipping it over to read it. She freezes.
Having trouble having your little uma? Contact certified stallion Golshi for help!
Record Autumn Triple Crown Holder! Fertility Therapist Extraordinaire!
[email protected]
69 CDs Avenue, Tokyo, Japan
“Gold Ship…”
Last time McQueen saw Gold Ship, she was celebrating her historic Autumn Triple Crown victory. McQueen had been right there with her, cheering as her closest friend achieved a feat most never dare dream of. And now, this is… She is…
McQueen crumples the business card in her hand, scowling. So that’s what Gold Ship’s been doing all this time? Is she serious? They haven’t seen each other since they both retired, and this is the first thing Gold Ship sends her?! She must be insane! How dare she send something so improper to McQueen’s residence! How did she get her address, anyways?!
And surely, she isn’t serious. Is fertility therapist even a real job? As far as McQueen knew, her… parts… are the same as hers, so how could she…? She can’t possibly be having intercourse with so many… No, surely this doesn’t mean what McQueen thinks it’s implying?
Her blood boils, and she suppresses an annoyed growl. It seems she needs to knock some sense into Gold Ship.
McQueen thought the address on Gold Ship’s business card was surely fake, but when she shows up at the surprisingly traditional house the next day, Gold Ship’s name is printed on it. McQueen huffs. Why is such a beautiful house at such a ridiculous address? Only her annoyance towards Gold Ship keeps her from questioning it further.
Usually, she would be polite entering somebody else’s property, but she can’t find it in her to try this time. She knocks on the door twice, intentionally loud, and crosses her arms and waits.
Two seconds later, Gold Ship appears.
She looks nothing like her racing self. Her hair flows freely over her shoulders, her trademark helmet missing, ending in a silky smoothness McQueen didn’t know her hair possessed. She dons nothing but a white robe, the openness at the collar leaving nothing to the imagination. Rather than her eyes being mischievous, the outfit makes them look alluring. If McQueen didn’t know better, she’d think this was a different Umamusume entirely. One that has spent her entire life being a model.
Gold Ship stares at her, lips parted. McQueen gives an annoyed swish of her tail.
Gold Ship starts bawling.
“McQueeeeeeeen!” She wails, flinging herself towards McQueen. McQueen grimaces as Gold Ship clutches her shoulders. “McQueen! It’s you! You really came. You’re real! Wahhhh!”
“Gold Ship!” McQueen huffs. All of Gold Ship’s beauty disappears in an instant. “This is hardly a proper way to greet someone!”
“But! But!” Gold Ship sobs, sniffling. “I didn’t think you’d come!”
“That’s because you didn’t send a proper invitation!”
Gold Ships stills, her sobs subsiding. “Oh. You’re right.”
McQueen bristles. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?! You sent such a- an illicit promotion to my place of residence, and that’s your response?”
“Huh? You mean my business card?”
“Obviously!”
“Oh.” Gold Ship straightens, releasing McQueen from her grasp. To McQueen’s dismay, she doesn’t look regretful at all. “But that’s my real job, you know?”
McQueen freezes.
“You- You’re,” McQueen stammers, “a fertility therapist? But that sounds like… Such a shady job…”
“Huh? Shady?”
McQueen huffs. “Don’t play pretend! You know what it sounds like! You’re advertising your…” McQueen clears her throat. “Your fertility.. So you can… So others can… breed…”
Gold Ship snorts.
“What’s so funny?! Surely that’s what it is! What else could it be?!”
Gold Ship doubles over laughing. “Mac- McQueen, holy yakisoba that’s so good-“
“Holy yakisoba?!”
Gold Ship wipes her eyes, still breathing heavily and clearly trying not to laugh. “Mac-chan, just come inside. I’ll show you what I do for my job.”
Gold Ship smirks. McQueen crosses her arms, ignoring how hot her face suddenly feels. “You have a lot more to explain to me than just that! And if you try anything improper, I will leave immediately!”
“I get it, I get it. No fun allowed, huh~”
Before McQueen can rebuke such an idiotic statement, Gold Ship turns and heads inside, her silvery smooth hair leaving afterimages in McQueen’s vision. She really is so beautiful; why is she surprised McQueen assumed she was using that beauty to her advantage? Seeing her with that job title, anybody would think the same.
“Huh?” Gold Ship looks over her shoulder, smirking. “Too stunned to come in?”
“O-Of course not!”
McQueen hastily enters Gold Ship’s house, clearing her throat. During her racing career, she thought Gold Ship would be the death of her, but now, she thinks retirement might be even worse.
Gold Ship’s house is clean, with freshly vacuumed tatami mats, a low table set out near her kitchen, and a neat sunroom to rest in. Gold Ship makes her tea while she invites her into her small but cozy kitchen. It smells nice. And when they go to the sunroom, Gold Ship sets out pillows for her to sit on.
“What’s going on…?” McQueen mutters to herself. Gold Ship, after setting out a low tea table for her, had gone back to the kitchen. To clean up her mess. Most damning of all, the tea tastes… good. It’s better than McQueen has had in weeks. What demon has taken over her body?!
The only pieces of the old Gold Ship that McQueen recognizes are the old pictures of her around the house. There’s the ones from her Takarazuka Kinen victories, a few team Spica photos, and most important of all, one from her Autumn Triple Crown victory, the one that cemented her legacy as one of the best racers of all time. In those are the smiley, goofy looking Gold Ship she remembers. McQueen is even celebrating with her in most of them. Only a few months have passed since the Autumn Triple Crown photo, and yet…
“Golshi’s back,” Gold Ship trills, sitting down next to her with her own tea cup. She sits properly, legs bent at the knee seiza-style, and McQueen’s jaw nearly drops. “Oh! I see you’re impressed by my tea, McQueen!”
“Um, yes, it’s very good,” McQueen says, chuckling nervously. “Um, pardon me if this is rude, but how is this place so…?”
“Oh! Actually, the owner’s brother’s son’s wife’s cousin of one yakisoba places I frequented had this place up for sale, and as thanks for all the help, they let me take a look at this house right here before it went on the market! It sure is a beauty, isn’t it?!”
“I… think I follow…” McQueen never thought Gold Ship would be into living in a sophisticated traditional house, but she’s always been full of surprises. “You… do your work here?”
Gold Ship pouts. “McQueeeen, why are you always so down to business? Can’t you take in the view for a while? Smell the air? Reinvent yourself?”
McQueen’s tail flicks. “Gold Ship, it was your business card that prompted me to come here in the first place.”
McQueen gracefully leaves out the fact it was Gold Ship that disappeared on her all those months ago. It wasn’t her choice to go no contact with her for months after her retirement! She actually wanted to be… friends… or more… but Gold Ship left no traces of herself to be found until that stupid business card arrived. McQueen thinks Gold Ship ought to be glad she’s entertaining her at all. If it were anybody else, she’d have turned tail long ago.
“Okay, fiiiine,” Gold Ship relents. “Actually, the tea is step one of my job. So just enjoy it, alright?”
McQueen freezes. That statement is incredibly suspicious, but Gold Ship’s pranks had never went as far to actually poison her, so she decides to trust her. “Alright. If you say so…”
Gold Ship stares at her while she sips her tea. It’s not the teasing gaze she used to give her while they were racing or training together; no, it’s something more serious, and yet, surprisingly soft. McQueen wonders where Gold Ship learned to smile like this. What has she been doing while they’ve been apart?
“Relaxed now, huh?” Gold Ship says, and for once the tone of her voice is normal. Not the loud excitement when she drags McQueen off on one of her adventures, not the low sultriness she lathers on when she’s messing with McQueen, just… normal. McQueen nods, slowly. “Perfect. Close your eyes for me for a second, will you?”
McQueen pauses, hesitant, but decides to trust her. She hears rustling, and behind her eyelids she notices that it’s getting darker. Before she can raise any concerns, Gold Ship claps, twice. “Alright, go ahead and open them.”
McQueen does. The blinds have been closed, the faintest hint of sunlight seeping in through the crack at the bottom, and sudden, the smell of incense wafts through the air. McQueen moves to look around, but two hands land on either of her shoulders, and she jumps, suppressing a yelp.
“Shh, relax,” Gold Ship whispers. Her breath hits McQueen’s ear, and now, McQueen doesn’t think she could fight back if she wanted to. “You want to relax, right?”
What’s going on? McQueen wonders, but all she can do is hum in agreement. Gold Ship’s hands massage her shoulders, and her whole body gives in, her strength rushing out of her limbs and into her core. Warmth settles deep in her gut. “I do.”
“Good,” Gold Ship says, and it’s not praise, but the flush that spreads through McQueen says otherwise. “Alright, lie down for me, okay? On your stomach.”
McQueen does so immediately. Hazily, she wonders what this has to do with anything, but she can’t get her body to refuse. She feels the ground shift next to her and sees Gold Ship’s knees on each side of her torso. She suddenly realizes the extremely compromising position they’re in, and that gets rationality to rush back to McQueen’s head, but before she can get her protest out, Gold Ship speaks.
“Stress, fatigue… it all shows in your muscles, you know. If you don’t take care of that, you won’t be able to solve anything.”
Gold Ship presses inbetween McQueen’s shoulder blades, and McQueen sighs with how good it feels. Gold Ship’s right; her muscles are carrying far more stress than they were made for. “What’s been going on? Stress like this impacts every part of your life. It’s better to figure it out now before it escalates.”
“Well…” McQueen trails off. Everything circles back to the woman currently on top of her. “A… certain someone… has been making me stressed lately…”
“Ah. Relationship issues. A common issue. But a fixable one.”
A flash of heat runs through her — who is Gold Ship to be saying this when she’s the problem?! — but another press to her sore muscles stops her from saying anything. She feels hair touch her back, and she realizes Gold Ship is leaning over her now. “Imagine I’m that person. My hands are their hands. Close your eyes and envision it.”
It’s not particularly hard for McQueen to imagine, but she closes her eyes anyways. The low murmur of Gold Ship’s words make her shiver, especially now that they’re so close to her ear. Gold Ship hums when McQueen closes her eyes, and now, her hands run down McQueen’s sides, making her twitch.
“Do you feel it? The care they have for you. They want you to feel happy. You both just haven’t communicated it yet.”
Gold Ship massages McQueen’s traps, then her deltoids, then her obliques. “This is just a physical manifestation of that want. If you learn how to communicate, mentally and physically… everything you want will come true.”
McQueen sighs. Gold Ship’s right; they haven’t communicated at all with each other. Gold Ship may have disappeared, but McQueen put the onus of explaining on her. She hasn’t made an effort to tell Gold Ship what she wants. For all Gold Ship knows, McQueen is only visiting out of obligation, and she… she doesn’t want that. She wants more. More than just friends. More.
“Well, that’s what I do for my job, anyways.”
Gold Ship abruptly stands up, a wave of cold air hitting McQueen. McQueen’s eyes snap open. She rolls over, and Gold Ship is standing above her, grinning. “Nice, huh?”
“You- what,” McQueen stammers, flushing. She still feels too weak to stand up, which is all Gold Ship’s fault. “That was your job?”
“Yup! Pretty sweet, right?” Gold Ship placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest. McQueen frowns.
“That’s just- a regular therapist!“
Gold Ship crosses her arms. “No, it’s totally different! I massaged you, too.”
“But! This is! It has nothing to do with fertility!”
Gold Ship laughs. “Yeah, I market it like that because lots of couples come to me for help. Their fertility rates improve after Golshi’s patented talk-massage technique! Who knew being relaxed would make your love life better?”
McQueen stares, heat rising to her face. It, unfortunately, makes a lot of sense. For all her antics, Gold Ship was always good at understanding other people’s feelings. She’s extremely athletic, too, so a career where she can put both of those together is perfect for her. Even helping couples is on brand for her.
But McQueen…
“So everything you said…” McQueen trails off. “Was it just to show me your job?”
The smile falls from Gold Ship’s face. “Actually, I…”
Gold Ship stares off into the distance, and faintly, McQueen can see a blush grow on her cheeks. McQueen sighs fondly. For how good Gold Ship is at recognizing other people’s feelings and problems, she was never good at saying her own. Luckily for her, McQueen can wait however long it takes for her to say them.
Regaining her strength, McQueen stands up, dusting herself off. “Let’s talk, shall we?”
Gold Ship gives a small nod. Meek, even. McQueen giggles. “Thanks, Gold Ship.”
Gold Ship brings her to her bedroom. This part of her house looks undoubtedly like Gold Ship. On her desks are papers and pictures strewn around haphazardly, and her bed — a western style one — looks like it was made at the last minute. Various cushions litter the floor, likely because Gold Ship likes her “floor time” as she calls it, and also can never decide where to sit. It seems like she can’t decide now, either, because she walks around her room, rearranging her cushions for a full minute, before she sits down on her bed anyways.
“Sit down,” Gold Ship says, patting the spot next to her. McQueen does. “Guess I have a lot of explaining to do, huh?”
“You do.” While McQueen isn’t as mad as she was earlier, she still isn’t the one that ran off with no contact. “Please don’t spare any details.”
Gold Ship sighs, bringing a hand to her chin. “Well, it’s kind of a lot, where do I start… Oh! The Arima Kinen!”
“Yes, that’s the last time I saw you.”
Gold Ship chuckles nervously. “Yeah, well… I’m sorry about that.”
She looks genuinely apologetic, her eyes downturned and her tail swishing sadly. McQueen smiles. “It’s alright. I forgive-“
“No!” Gold Ship exclaims. McQueen stares, stunned. “Don’t forgive me yet. Not until I’ve explained everything. Not until I give you a reason to.”
McQueen’s speechless. To her, forgiveness has nothing to do with if she’s given a reason or not. Sure, Gold Ship might be a hassle, a little unhinged, and overall troublesome, but no matter what she may do, to McQueen, she’s still her friend. She wants to forgive her. But Gold Ship looks so determined that McQueen can’t disagree.
“I didn’t plan to win the Triple Crown,” Gold Ship starts. “I actually really love racing. I didn’t take it seriously at first, but after a while, I realized I felt lost if I wasn’t training or racing. But I didn’t have a grand dream like you did. I just liked running and winning.
“So after I won the Triple Crown… There was nothing left for me to do. I didn’t feel motivated to run anymore. I was just a worthless, no good shell of myself. So… I left. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
McQueen waits for Gold Ship to continue, but nothing comes. Gold Ship stares at the ground, unmoving, hands clenching her bedsheets on either side of her. Her, insecure? McQueen has never seen Gold Ship like that before. But then again… no wonder Gold Ship didn’t want to face her like that. It’s not like Gold Ship at all.
“Well, then I came up with the idea for this job!” Gold Ship adds hastily. Her smile seems forced. “I mean, I get to see all types of people every day! And sometimes, I see some of the people we used to race with. It feels good to help them. It might seem strange, but I actually like helping people, you know?”
“It’s not strange,” McQueen says, shaking her head. “You used to help me all the time. You’re an extremely empathetic person, Gold Ship.”
Gold Ship looks up at her, unbelieving. “You really mean that?”
“Of course I do. I think this job is perfect for you.”
Gold Ship doesn’t move for a few seconds. Then, she blinks rapidly, wiping at her eyes. “I’m glad. You’re the first person I’ve told about this. Besides the ones that randomly showed up, of course.”
McQueen laughs. “Well, you couldn’t stay hidden from us forever, I suppose.”
Gold Ship smiles again, this time less forced than before. McQueen smiles back.
“So,” McQueen says, “the reason you left for months… is simply because you were insecure?”
Gold Ship winces. “Urgh, Mac-chan… you wound me so…” But she sighs. “Yeah. It is. I didn’t want to face you with no self-confidence. I… you’re too important to me. I didn’t know what to do with myself!”
Gold Ship clenches her fists in front of her, as if she were rearing up for a fight. McQueen looks on fondly. She’s seen Gold Ship make this pose countless times before, usually before making trouble, but to have it directed towards her is strangely endearing.
“You’re important to me as well,” McQueen says. She decided to be completely honest with Gold Ship and not let the burden be only on her, so it’s only fair that she opens up as well. “I was worried sick about you. I knew you’d probably turn up sooner or later, but the thought you were off all alone scared me…”
“Ugh, Mac-chan, you’re not making this easier at all!”
McQueen giggles. “It’s only fair after you disappeared for so long. But, as I said earlier, I forgive you, Gold Ship. You’re more important to me than you could ever know.”
McQueen moves closer to Gold Ship, resting her tail on top of hers. Gold Ship stares, jaw slack, until her tail starts swinging wildly. “Holy mackerel, McQueen! Does that mean what I think it means?!”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do,” Gold Ship sings, a grin taking over her face. “Were you hoping that massage earlier erupted into passionate, steamy lovemaking? Or perhaps I would whisper a confession of my love directly into your ears? Or maybe-“
McQueen sits up and kisses Gold Ship, her hands firmly holding her in place by the head and neck. McQueen can practically hear the air rush out of Gold Ship. It takes several seconds for Gold Ship to move at all, but when she does, she kisses back fiercely, gripping her by the back. McQueen doesn’t relent, pushing further and further into her, until she isn’t sure where she ends and Gold Ship begins. She breaks away from the kiss only when she’s certain she’s almost out of air, thanking her stamina training for her lung capacity.
“Maybe I wished for something like this?” McQueen says as they separate. Maybe it was because she was taken off guard, but Gold Ship, the unsinkable ship, the white devil herself, is panting. McQueen grins. “I suppose you would have no way of knowing, after all.”
Gold Ship makes a choked noise — several, actually — before pumping her fists in the air. “Holy sea bream! McQueen is on top of me and kissing me! This is the best day of my life!”
“It better not be. You have many more years with me in your future.”
“Then this will be the second best day! Tomorrow will be the best day!” Gold Ship lets out a shout of what McQueen assumes to be success — truly, she’s never heard a living being make a sound remotely similar to it before. “McQueen, I love you! I’m sorry I disappeared! I swear on my ancient family lineage I won’t do it again!”
“There’s no need to beg,” McQueen says, sighing. Gold Ship is always so strange, but it’s just her way of showing love, and in the end, McQueen can’t help but be fond of it. “I already forgave you, so don’t give me a reason to take it back.”
Gold Ship salutes. “Yes, your majesty.” She holds McQueen by the shoulders, gentle despite her immense strength. “I don’t have anything else for the rest of the day. Wanna resume where we were earlier?”
“According to you, it wasn’t anything sleazy, now was it?” McQueen points out. Gold Ship’s grin falters, and McQueen can’t help but laugh and give in. “Of course. I wouldn’t be in your lap if I didn’t, would I?”
Gold Ship squeezes her tightly. “Oh McQueen, how I love you so. Amazing, lovely McQueen!”
She’s so dramatic. McQueen smiles. “I love you as well, Golshi.”
Gold Ship surges forward and kisses her, knocking her backwards onto the bed. McQueen yelps and laughs as Gold Ship chases her lips all the way. Retirement might be alright after all.