Work Text:
Tracen Academy.
A historical academy dedicated to raising Japan's greatest racers and trainers. With over 100 years of history, it became renowned as one of the best racing schools in the world, its students competing with the world's best and even overcoming them.
Most of Sunday Silence's children ended up here at one point or another; though she herself never attended it herself, she holds a deep admiration for the institution and its staff.
"So, why was I called here today? Rudolf-Senpai," Sunday Silence said as she sat across from the Director of the academy: the undefeated Triple Crown and first 7 G1 winner in Japanese history, Symboli Rudolf.
"Please, there is no need for honorifics. We stand here as equals, even friends," Rudolf said with a smile, though Sunday was not foolish enough to believe her.
Rudolf was not someone who would ask to meet up simply to relive the glory days, not to mention they were complete opposites in every sense of the word. Rudolf was a diligent, mature woman who took responsibility very seriously, and that would be enough to make them clash, but Rudolf's animosity ran deeper. Despite that, Sunday truly admired her, as an Uma Musume and as a person.
"Ramonu told me you've been visiting the Mejiro mansion very frequently as of late. I am glad to hear your animosity with McQueen has been resolved," she said, taking a sip of her tea.
"Hahah, please, you are far too kind, Senpai. But that reminds me, how has Teio been?"
The air grew heavy.
The reason Sunday Silence and Rudolf didn't get along was simple yet complex, but to put it in a few words and glance over the subject, Sunday Silence and Tokai Teio had a rivalry over McQueen when they were young.
Sunday Silence won't deny she went too far at moments— way too far— and if she ever met Teio again, she would make sure to apologize. Naturally, Rudolf, as Teio's parent, hated her child's bully. Which parent wouldn't? Especially one as doting and kind as Rudolf.
"She has been well. Still as full of energy as ever," Rudolf said, with a contained, almost impossible to notice, anger in her voice.
Why did Silence provoke Rudolf like that? Whoever knew, it certainly wasn't her. Sometimes, she simply had this instinct to do things that she would regret later. She couldn't help it even when around someone she admired, or perhaps because she was around someone she admired?
She hated this bad habit of hers.
"... The reason I called you here is to give you this," Rudolf said, extending a letter to Sunday Silence, who grabbed it and looked it over.
"Who is it from?"
"... It's from Halo."
Sunday Silence in a second stood up, her expression darkening into one of rage at the mention of that name.
Halo.
An American Uma descending from the legendary Eclipse, she achieved goo results in her career; yet nothing that would make into history books, yet no Uma Musume would not recognize her name.
After retiring, she had many children who would become legends in their own right, and among them was a sickly and weakly daughter who could barely stand up or run. However, through intense training and harsh punishments, that child would grow up to be the American Champion and the world's greatest Dirt Horse— Sunday Silence.
"... How is she still alive?" Sunday Silence tried calming herself down, she hadn't heard anything about her mother in the last 40 years, she should be past 100 at this point. She should have been dead by that point.
Though Sunday Silence knew that if there was any person who could cheat death, it was her mother. Not even the Grim Reaper would take her.
"... I was surprised too; nobody has heard or seen Halo in decades. To be honest, I could barely believe my eyes when I saw her... She didn't say what the letter was about, only to give it to you."
"And you couldn't have refused her?!" Sunday Silence shouted. It came out louder than intended, but she couldn't control herself. Her breathing was fast, and she could feel cold sweat going down her face.
"I didn't have a reason to; it's just a letter—"
"It's not about the letter!" Sunday cut her off. She couldn't control herself; she hadn't felt this way in a long time.
"..."
"..."
They just stared at each other. Sunday didn't know what face she was making, but she could tell by Rudolf's expression of concern, it wasn't something good.
She didn't want this.
She didn't want to scream at Rudolf.
She didn't want to act like this.
She didn't want to be seen like this by anyone, much less by the woman she admired so much.
"...I-I'm sorry, I will be leaving now, thanks for having me, Rudolf-senpai," Sunday said, turning around and walking past the door as quickly as she could. She couldn't bear to look Rudolf in the eyes, and Rudolf couldn't bring herself to stop her.
That wasn't the first time Rudolf saw this reaction. In fact, she saw a very similar one a few weeks earlier by someone else.
Halo left two letters with her: one for Sunday Silence, and another one for Goodbye Halo, Halo's daughter, King Halo's mother, and Sunday Silence's older sister.
—
Sunday Silence found herself sitting in a bench in the train station near Tracen. She didn't know where to go or what to do, but she was still holding onto that letter.
She didn't open it. She didn't want to open it, but she also couldn't just throw it away. "Why now?" she thought, but no answer would come. No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn't find the strength to do anything.
She remembered the cruel and grueling training her mother put her through— the sweat, the tears, the blood. How Goodbye Halo would watch and do nothing to help her until she left all on her own, leaving Sunday to bear everything by herself.
One night, after Halo beat her until her nose started bleeding, a small puddle forming on the floor, Halo stood up and looked down at her own daughter. Sunday could remember those words like they were yesterday; she could forget everything else, but she couldn't what Halo said.
"I wonder why I even bothered keeping you around. You're worthless."
...
Soon after, Sunday left too. She never came back to visit Halo, and she did her best to not hear any news about her either.
She never saw Goodbye Halo again either; they were sisters only in the explicitly biological sense of the word.
Wishing Well, her mother, the woman who gave birth to her, and the only one who cared about her in that so called family, died while Sunday was in Japan.
She never told anyone or talked about it. She didn't even bothered going to her funeral. What a daughter she was huh?
That probably was the beginning, right? Without her, Sunday truly had no home, no family, nothing. She was free, detached from everything and everyone.
She could go anywhere and everywhere, she could do whatever she wanted, and she could leave all of them behind without a care in the world.
It's not like she would make a difference, right?
It's not like they needed her around, right?
It's not like she would be useful for anything, right?
... What a worthless woman she had become. She can't blame everything she did on Halo, yet a part of her wonders if maybe she and Goodbye could have become better mothers, if maybe...
It doesn't matter anymore. The how's and why's were all meaningless now; what was done was done, and what was left was the present.
And yet, the letter. She couldn't discard it, but she couldn't accept it either. Perhaps she had no place to judge her mother, but even so, she could never forgive her, no matter what.
"Huh... Excuse me, are you okay?"
Sunday Silence looked up to see who was calling for her name. It was an Uma Musume: brown short hair, bright purple eyes, and a large blaze on her hair. She'd seen that face many times on TV and newspapers.
And even if she didn't, she could recognize it at a first glance. They looked very similar, those two. They were mother and daughter, after all.
"... Hey... Special Week," Sunday Silence said, her voice filled with sadness and resignation. She knew this day would come, she just didn't expect it to be so soon.
"Hello... Mother," Special Week said, looking down at the strange woman she never got to meet when growing up. Her second biological mother, Sunday Silence.
—
"Please, sit down. I will get some coffee" Special Week said after showing Sunday the living room.
She sat upon a chair and looked around. It was a pretty and humble house in the outskirts of Tokyo. Portraits decorated the place: pictures of her with the Golden Generation, Special Week alongside her daughters, and the one at the center of the wall, a picture of Special Week and Silence Suzuka holding hands.
"..." Sunday Silence had no words. No, she had many words, countless words, but she understood they were all meaningless. In front of her was an entire lifetime of memories— years of effort, sorrow, joy and much more, all in those pictures, and they made concrete what she already knew in her mind.
An entire lifetime, and Sunday Silence wasn't a part of it for even a single moment. It made her want to get up and run away, run as fast as she could. But she already decided she would stop running; she would sit still and take anything that would come her away.
That was her punishment, that was her atonement.
Special Week returned, bringing coffee and a few cookies that she put on the small table in front of Sunday.
"Thank you for welcoming me in..." Sunday said, not knowing how to face her daughter.
"It's nothing. I think Mother would have done the same," Spe said, smiling as she sat down herself.
"Hahah, yeah, Campaign Girl was always a kind person, even to me..."
"No, not her. I don't know what she would have done, because I never knew the mother who gave birth to me."
"..." Right, that was unpolite of her to even mention Campaign Girl. She had no right to say that name.
"But, my adoptive mom. She was kind too."
Sunday stared at Special Week, those eyes were bright and full of hope, the exact opposite of her own eyes.
"She always encouraged me to go after my dreams."
Sunday was just like Halo, an awful mother who never once stopped to think about her children.
"She helped me train and always took care of me when I was sick."
That Halo who would beat her and berate her when she fell ill.
"She came all the way from Hokkaido to see me race."
The Halo who never once congratulated her on winning.
"So, I'm not sad I didn't get to meet the mom who gave birth to me, and I'm not sad I never got to meet you either, because I had a wonderful, caring and kind mom who loved me no matter what."
"...I see. I guess, I wasn't needed after all," Sunday said, looking at her daughter. She was grown up now, and she was a beautiful and strong woman who didn't need such a worthless mother around.
Perhaps Halo was right, perhaps she really was worthle-
"But, I still wanna know you!" Special Week said as Sunday started to get up.
"Huh?"
"You were there, weren't you?"
"...!"
"At Suzuka's funeral, I saw a black haired Uma watching from afar... That was you, wasn't it?"
"...Hahah.. Yes, that was me," Sunday said, the memories flooding back all at once, her heart growing heavy.
"I... I don't know why you left me, or why you left all of my sisters, but you came to Suzuka's funeral. I don't think a bad person would have done that, so... I wanna know more about you, Sunday Silence... I wanna know more about my other mother..."
Halo was a worthless mother who treated her children like garbage. The Results were Goodbye Halo, a woman obsessed with victory who talked down and humiliated her daughter, and Sunday Silence, a deadbeat who never once took responsibility for any of her mistakes.
For a long time, Sunday Silence thought her family was worthless. But she couldn't say that anymore. Special Week, Gold Ship, Marvelous Sunday, Stay Gold, Silence Suzuka— her family created such fantastic, kind, and wise girls. So she wasn't allowed to talk down about her family anymore, because these girls were also her family.
Sunday Silence can't forgive Halo; she will never forgive that woman no matter how much time passes.
So she has only one thing to do: to be better than her mother, to be a woman deserving to be called "Mother" by her children.
"That... That would make me really happy. Though it is a very long story, I will tell you."
"I don't mind; I am sure it will be a wonderful story."
Uma Musume. They inherit the names of horses from another world, whose fate were sometimes tragic and sometimes wonderful, and run ever forward. No one knows how their stories will end, but they will continue running forward, aiming for the goal in front of them.