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She was never close to anyone throughout her life, rarely speaking at all from high school to where she ended up now, Tracen. Wanting to look cool was one thing, but she quickly learned such status went hand-in-hand with being able to socialize. Self-loathing thoughts brood in her mind, but far past those days, contemplating was pointless. Despite this, there was some solace in her isolation, though finding anything else to be contempt with, than the quietness, proved nauseating.
“Stupid loser…”
An insult directed toward none other than herself, followed by the snapping of disposable chopsticks, has been the starting gate before every dinner since she arrived. Noodles and sauce slosh and stain against wood, she can almost feel herself drool at the meal after a hard day, but seeing and hearing it almost felt reassuring that she’d passed another normal day at the most prestigious-
“My next target… Eternal Record.”
Her attention diverted from her nourishment, meeting a pair of floating blue eyes. The figure stood behind her by a few meters, any detail she could pick out was barely illuminated by the stadium lights shining in the opposite direction. Completely thrown off, she nearly knocks over her sustenance, ejecting herself from her seating in a cold sweat.
“W-who are you?! I’ll… I’ll kick your ass!”
Her voice barks while trembling, tail wrapped around one of her legs, but the figure across from her stands apathetically. What was a couple of steps back to scale the interloper immediately becomes a desperate spurt, turning practice from earlier today into praxis… Except it doesn’t. She imagined the wind blowing in her hair, escaping the night terror, but something pins her collar in place as she tries lunging again like a leashed dog. Her arms spring up and reach over her shoulders to free herself from the grip, instead smacking what felt like iron cables welded onto the collar of her uniform.
“The Japanese Derby…”
Stern words enter the medium— Record’s ears jutting up, alarmed by how close they felt. The moment the pressure released, she whips around, finding the other Umamusume now standing close in front of her. The same blue eyes cast down on her like the headlights on a truck, physique equally defined, even though her uniform.
“… Are you participating in it?”
Completely distracted by the imposing figure, Record’s eyes shoot back up, meeting the latter’s, who tilts her head, awaiting a response. Her upper body isn’t any less muscular, the summer uniform revealing veins and muscles brimming with power. Further up, prominent tufts of fur protrude from her ears, larger than any she’s seen… A desire to fluff them emerges-
“Is something wrong?”
“H-huh? No?”
The situation returns to her, hardly believing any of it and herself. At the brink of night, a stranger jumped out of the darkness, immediately began an interrogation, and Record’s response to this was imagining what it’d be like to be ground into this machine like a carrot against a grater. Nonetheless, some form of response needed to be made, even if she already forgot what the initial question was while eyeing her. Fighting her hesitation, the jumble of words Record threw together launches out of her mouth.
“I’ll be in the Derby, so you’d better prepare yourself!”
“Better prepare yourself” Like she’d even stand a chance— compared to whoever this is, Record might as well be one of the noodles she was going to eat. A sense of embarrassment burned under her skin, urging her to apologise for all the foolish mistakes she’s made, but the corners of the stranger’s mouth pinch into a gentle smile. For most of this encounter, she’s been standing in front of her like an ancient Greek statue, but seeing her face move in the slightest completely threw Record off.
“Symboli Kris S… It was nice knowing you, Eternal Record”
Manners, dinner, and muscles be damned, this was the fastest she’s ever entered a spurt! As Record becomes one with the wind, the latter continues standing under the stadium light, watching as she disappears into the night…
It’s been an eventful few months for Symboli Kris S— acclimating to her new residence while professionally running, though credit where credit’s due, her career wouldn’t be the same without the generosity of her peers. Even today, they’ve offered her gym equipment, favours, and now food. It was considerate of Record to do so, yet it felt wrong to have any of it, the act seeming more like an abandonment than a gift. It’d be a waste to leave it out, so some reluctant repacking left Kris S with something to eat later.
There was a certain warmth that kindness brought, a feeling she couldn’t describe, but it’d always make her smile. A lighter feeling spreads in her mind, but such thoughts were irrelevant to the objective, the feeling dispersing as the thought crossed her mind. As kind as everyone else participating in the derby was, they all shared a sense of urgency, if the mission were to succeed, tenderness would have to wait. The last meeting took too long, though most of it was waiting for a certain timid opponent to answer a “yes or no” question.
Along a path passing through practice tracks, Kris S stops and shuffles through one of her skirt pockets, unfolding a crumpled note under the dim lights of the field. At the bottom of a tower of crossed out names, Tanino Gimlet remained unscathed. Winning four races and never finishing below third in the other three, the derby would be the longest distance she ran, but her powerful kick toward the end of her races proved a defining trait… Kris tries recalling any other fact she’s been told, but between Gimlet’s last spurt and vandalism, the revelation that she’s sifting through a sea of Umamusume with two facts on a single runner begins to surface. While possible tomorrow, the Derby was only in a couple of days, time better spent training than chasing a wild goose.
Kris’s face crumples at the prospect of a failed objective, but whether it was a coincidence or the Three Goddesses heeding her struggle, a loud blast fills the air. Her ears spring up and the rest of her body snaps to face the direction of the noise. Across from her, A broken fence lays before a crimson haired Umamusume. Her chest rises and falls, exhilarated by her outburst of violence.
“THIS IS THE POWER BESTOWED UPON THE GOD OF DESTRUCTION… but it isn’t enough…”
One of her hands covers an eye patch over her right eye, ruffling her blaze in the process. The tip of her cleat kicks and drags against the ground like a bull’s hooves before charging (don’t think too much about the analogy).
“Mindless thrashing won’t do for a proper release… a gimlet is a spirit with a kick, it needs form-”
In the blink of an eye, that same cleat launches from the ground, precisely into the next fence, blowing shrapnel out the other side. Each instant of her fully exerted strength sears into Kris's eyes, her body moved on its own toward the display. Her foot returns to the ground before the rest of the fence panel lands, slumping over like a winded person.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! It’s like night and day, the aesthetic of destruction!”
The enthusiasm in her voice settles after a moment of hyperventilating. Rather than moving to the next fence, her attention suddenly diverts behind.
“Intoxicated by my destruction? If you’re watching that closely, you’re free to tell me every detail as I mow the rest of them down.”
Without realising it, Kris finds herself a few steps away from breathing down the neck of the elusive vandal. The words "strong" and "crazy", alongside some vague descriptors, did little to narrow down whom Gimlet could be (especially considering this is Tracen); however, Kris was completely certain this was her. She only needed to ask the other question before making her way, but Gimlet’s eccentricities left only more questions.
“… Why the fences, though?”
The fences were the first question on her mind, eyeing Gimlet’s previous victims left in shards on the turf. A toothy grin flashes on Gimlet’s face, her enthusiasm leaping out of her body with gusto.
“PASSION! POWER! These legs of mine burgeon with a desire I must unleash! If it’s the price of being the God of Destruction among Umamusume, then it’s on the house!”
Her posture briefly sobers, sighing then standing back up from whatever pose she was just doing to observe where the fences were, her voice lowering.
“Though, to destroy is to also rebuild… nevertheless, the crowds are also inebriated with my destruction… there is much more to be done.”
An air of vanity lingers in her words, walking up and facing the next fence. As she did the last, Gimlet chambers one of her legs, but places her cleat on the barricade instead.
“I sense more pressure from you than any of my adversaries. What exactly is your mission, Kris S?”
The answer reaches the tip of her tongue, but hearing her name widens her eyes. She never spoke much to her peers, unfamiliar with the language, but her victories seemed to have garnered enough attention for Gimlet to recognise her. It takes a moment to settle her thoughts, but the answer leaves her mouth, regardless.
“… Japan will enter the world stage upon my success… It is what I’m obliged to fulfil.”
Her mission stated in its purist form, Kris takes a moment to gather her thoughts.
"You are one of many trials upon my mission… we will meet at the Derby.”
Her cleat clacks against the riveted texture of the fence, dragging the edge across it before turning to face Kris with a wider grin than the one that greeted her.
“Me? A trial?”
Laughter erupts from Gimlet, startling Kris, lasting a second as her right hand rises to her eye patch.
“You will realise that I am more than just a trial, once you see cleats cross the finish line… As the God of Destruction, I’ll destroy you and your mission with the same cleats that felled these fences!”
Her fingers slip under the eye patch, pulling out and over her head. Light sparkles along her iris, reflecting that almost gold colour in her other eye, completing the image of her face. Awestruck, Kris takes in the colour, shape, lustre, and every speck of detail of Gimlet’s eye that she can catch in this instant, her mouth left partially open at the reveal.
“Become intoxicated on my aesthetic, burn it into your mind at every step of your mission!”
Her words ignite something in the back of Kris’s mind; the derby was in a few days, but it was like they were already at the padlocks.