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Seven horse girls, all respective gems of the next generation of Tracen Academy, sat in a circle. The picture of domesticity.
Suzuka and Special Week sat in neat, matching pyjamas, white fabric dotted with cute yellow stars. Teio, presumably having purchased from the same company, donned a similar design, though hers was brown with alternating animals. She bounced in place, refusing to sit still at any given point in time.
Vodka and Scarlet, as always, remained inseparable from one another (though if you asked them, they’d adamantly deny it), brushing through Scarlet's hair like it was the most natural thing in the world.
At the summit of another gruelling day of summer training, a profane artefact stood at their feet with the power to decide the course of their very futures. Or at least the temporary sanctity of their tastebuds.
“Teio. Who do you think is the prettiest member of Spica?”
“Oh, that’s easy. McQueen.”
Teio spun the bottle of hot mustard in the centre as Special Week softly squealed to herself, both blissfully unaware of McQueen scrambling for composure like a janitor on a freshly oiled floor.
‘Wh-WHAT??’
Somehow, Gold Ship had managed to loop all of Team Spica into a game of spin the bottle, with the recipient being allowed to ask any other present member a single truthful question. The supposed punishment for refusing to answer was to drink from the bottle, but Gold Ship hardly saw this as a punishment, so she’d either refuse to answer entirely or just blatantly lie in her responses. After a very red-faced Daiwa Scarlet had nearly lost her temper, Gold Ship's punishment had been changed to a tentative 20 second cold water bath. This did not exactly discourage her either. (‘What kind of a battleship can’t take on the seven seas?’)
Under these rules, Vodka had been forced to drink from the bottle, refusing to answer any and all questions regarding her and Scarlet's racing record. So far, they’d learnt that Teio once spent a full week in Symboli Rudolf's council room before being physically removed; Suzuka had a 3-year Gundam phase; and Daiwa Scarlet very reluctantly revealed that she wore pads in her shoes to make herself look taller.
McQueen cleared her throat, momentarily retaining her good sense.
“Teio, could you… repeat that?”
Gold Ship had the widest grin on her face she’d seen in weeks (although she wore such an expression more often than not), her question clearly having had the intended outcome.
“Well, I think we all heard that loud and clear! There's really not much to be embarrassed about Mackie. To be completely honest, the Golshi sensor that was implanted into my brain as a baby had already picked up on your… interpersonal situation long before you ever did! Though I must say, the electronic radiation is really doing a number on my migraines recently."
McQueen, with the familiar grace of an individual tempered by years of Gold Ship, dutifully refused to lose her cool, no matter how hard Special Week tried to contain her laughter.
“Quite preposterous. On the contrary, Teio and I are nothing else but friends.”
She punctuated her statement with an artful flick of her lavender locks, scoffing loudly. It was quite logical. They’d been through more together than anybody else at the academy after all. Teio had done more for her than anybody else at the academy. Any and all comments on her appearance must have simply been tasteful comments regarding her sense of personal decorum and fashion.
It didn’t matter how Teio’s smooth-flowing hair, freed of its regular ponytail, commanded McQueen's attention with its shine or how she wanted to squish her cute, mochi-like cheeks. Stupid adorable Teio, lighting up at any mention of honeyade or President Rudolf. Stupid Teio, never refusing a rematch whenever she was asked.
Stupid Teio, always there for her, always knowing just what to say.
“Yeah, and anyway I don’t think it’s like anyone else would disagree! McQueen can really work a dress. Have you seen how cute she is in her racing silks?”
McQueen took back that last one.
Special Week burst out giggling as the bottle slowly but surely landed upon her; an unfamiliar predatory gleam lit up her eyes.
“Teio, what else do you like about McQueen then?”
McQueen’s gaze settled on Special Week, an absolutely withering glare, followed by a mental note and a declaration of war.
Teio sat straight up, her auburn eyes widening and her tail wagging like an excited puppy. She began listing off several observations that she’d no doubt been harbouring for a long time.
“Well, she’s the hardest worker I’ve ever known! I like how she acts so proper all the time, but her ears droop down when it’s late at night, and she’s too tired to bother?”
McQueen straightened her posture haughtily. She’d been unaware of that specific habit of hers. It was no matter; conscious correction was as natural as breathing to her at this point.
“And, and the fact that she’s so rich, but she’s still super down to Earth? Or her singing voice? Like, guys, have you SEEN her perform Hajimari Signal in person?”
Unbeknownst to Teio, McQueen's face was becoming more and more red as she spoke. No matter how much she signalled to stop, Teios' rapidly advancing voice overpowered her objections.
“And her stomach’s as flat as a board, but she still tries so hard to manage her own diet! Have you ever seen her properly trying to hold herself back from entering that new cake store near the dorms? Seriously, it’s like she’s a little kid with a new gaming console; every time she gets to have some sweets, her eyes light up!”
Eventually, even she realised the implications of what she’d been saying and quieted down, a creeping blush crawling its way up the brunette's face. She opted instead to spin the bottle once again, landing on a certain very red-faced, purple-haired umamusume. Instantly, her gaze sharpened, her focus returning to her. Her mouth curled into a victorious smirk.
“Spe-chan. How much would you happen to currently weigh?”
Her expression morphed into abject horror, a pleading apology already on the cusp of her lips. But it was no use. It was on her good name as a Mejiro to refuse to let such transgressions against her slide, after all.
“Right for the jugular! That’s my Mackie!”
Gold Ship heartily cackled to herself, Suzuka unexpectedly chuckling alongside her.
“...et tu Suzuka-san?”
Suzuka's expression remained pristine, zero evidence of her previous mirth on her face.
“I would never, Spe-chan.”
Special Week squirmed in her seat, mouth opening and closing, before grabbing the bottle and taking a hearty swig. Gold Ship, as always, had more fuel to add to the fire.
“Damn, look at her go! Suzuka, you gonna let McQueen do that to your best friend?”
Special Week coughed and spluttered, as she struggled to get the spicy condiment of nightmares down her throat properly. Suzuka rubbed slow circles on her back, with a vague amusement returning to her face.
“I must say, McQueen-san, this is quite far. Even you must admit, you and Tokai Teio are… closer than most.”
Teio spoke up.
“You’re one to talk, Suzuka-san! Seriously, you and Spe-chan will go out on a cafe date, then run for 4 hours straight and act like that’s perfectly normal!”
Suzuka responded without missing a beat, entirely unfazed.
“And just because Spe-chan and I are close, am I mistaken in my observation? I, personally, have no difficulties calling her my closest friend.”
Special Week brightened up hearing this.
“Awww, Suzuka-san! You’re my closest friend too! And I think you’re the prettiest member of Spica!”
Suzuka smiled, continuing.
“In fact, I seem to remember you two on Halloween, posting photos of your own date on the Spica group chat together. Very cute, I assure you.”
Hook, line and sinker. Teio shrunk from the looming pressure of the Otherworldly Front Runner capturing her in its gaze.
“W-well, we were just going out as friends…”
“...here we are.”
Vodka had stood up sometime around when Suzuka had started speaking and had come back with a camera, which had apparently been used in the past for photographing her father's various motorcycles. It fetched quite a handsome price, being an heirloom she was often asked to bring around.
She flicked through several photos, the bottle momentarily forgotten, before landing on a specific one. With a crooked smile on her face rivalling that of Gold Ships, she revealed her finding to the rest of the room. McQueen and Teio felt their blood run cold. A singular photo, all too familiar to McQueen and Teio. An expression of gratitude, all too unnecessarily difficult to voice. A certain blabbering awkwardness, misinterpreted entirely.
And most importantly, Teio's and McQueen's foreheads touching.
While an innocent expression of concern for her rival's health in the moment (in fact, McQueen could admire the skilful camera work, the light reflecting off of Teio’s hair, providing a ghostly contrast to the feather-light pink blush on her face), It was also an irrefutable, permanent piece of evidence solidifying a catastrophic misunderstanding in history.
Teio stood up quickly.
“I-I’M GONNA GO GET US DRINKS!!”
She dashed out of the room with the calculated speed of a four-time G1 winner.
“GET ME MY PICKLE JUICE, SWEET TEIO!”
Gold Ship shouted after her, her nonsensical request falling on presumably deaf ears. As McQueen reached towards the door, her only possible salvation sprinting out of the room at her top speed, she slowly turned back to the rest of the room, all tripping over themselves in laughter.
“Seriously, it isn’t that funny! For heaven's sake, Gold Ship, get up off the floor!”
It was an entirely foolish endeavour.
"Seriously, Mackie, how can you even deny how you two look at this point? In fact, I can bet that anybody, even outside of Tracen, will think something's up!”
“Ludicrous! Utterly ludicrous! I refuse to entertain such clueless notions any further! Teio and I aren’t anything more than meets the eye; I can promise you on my name!”
Her arms swung wildly, all sense of decorum lost entirely. As she stammered and shouted, the laughter only increased in volume. She stood up, careful not to aggravate her knee after such a long day of exercise. Getting drinks with Teio didn’t sound bad right about now.
“I refuse to continue this farce. Let me know if you decide to discuss matters more worth my time.”
Gold Ship's laughter stopped, frantically reaching out towards McQueen, grabbing the hem of her night dress.
“W-WAIT! MCQUEEN! I CAN PROVE IT!”
She turned towards Gold Ship, her nose turned up and an utterly incredulous expression on her face.
“And how do you plan to do so, you insufferable meddling crackpot?
Gold Ship unzipped her travel bag, filled to the brim with what appeared to be more bottles of hot mustard and, quite paradoxically, a small silver flask. Clearing them all to the side, she reached around, finally arriving upon a black umamusume-branded balaclava and a large sack.
“By bringing in proof myself! I’ll be right back!”
Before McQueen could object, Gold Ship bolted out of the room.
“Hey, watch out, WATCH OUT! I’M CARRYING DRINKS, YOU—"
Evidently, she had run into Teio. Cackling to herself as always, she jumped out of the window of the summer dorm, presumably off to bring back… proof. Whatever that meant.
Teio entered the room, sighing. Grabbing her own branded honey milk drink from the assortment she’d carried over, she placed the rest in the centre of the room.
“Black tea for Scarlet…”
Scarlet took the drink, thanking her.
“Sprite for Suzuka.”
She received her disgusting liquid radio static with both hands, silently expressing her gratitude.
“Strawberry milkshake for Spe…”
Special Week jumped at the offer, eager to wash the taste of mustard from her mouth.
“A coke for Vodka…”
Vodka grabbed at the drink, taking a slow swig with one hand.
She picked up a jar of pickle juice, looking at the exit and sighing.
“Well, that sure wasn’t easy to get. Seriously, Queenie, is there nothing else you can do about her?”
McQueen let out an equally loud sigh.
“You should know very well by now my answer to that question, Teio.”
She grabbed one last cup with a themed coaster from the centre of the room, sitting down next to McQueen.
“Here you go, Queenie. A place nearby was still open, so I got you this! An iced Hojicha latte, with crème brûlée foam and blue sugar pearls. Just how you like it!”
She placed the drink into McQueen's hand, placing a small hand of her own over McQueen's. She lightly smiled at her, getting a glowing smile right back from Teio, ever brightening up the room.
With yet another record-breaking glare, McQueen shut down the room's comments before they began.
“Seriously, these two are unreal…”
Scarlet whispered to Vodka, who nodded in reluctant agreement, but neither was willing to deny the two this reprieve. When Gold Ship returned, it was bound to get worse for the two anyway.
And as Spica would so terrifyingly learn that day, speak of the devil and they will come.
Gold Ship burst through the door once more, Teio and McQueen separating as if they were blasted apart with a grenade. Her hair was covered in leaves, and her tracksuit sported a fresh new coat of mud, to the fresh sounds of disgust from McQueen and Scarlet. She had also notably replaced her hat with a very unconvincing gag piece of rebar, appearing to stick through her head.
“Ack… this battleship… has sunken at last…”
She collapsed, convulsing with the overdramatisation of a freshly christened theatre club member. McQueen extricated her hand from Teio’s, walking over to Gold Ship’s ‘corpse’. Her sack was significantly fuller than before and also rather heavy. As McQueen was about to open it, to her horror, she noticed a small movement within the sack.
She lurched back, refusing to open the bag herself, mind racing with hundreds of possibilities.
“T-teio, could you do me a favour?”
Teio crept over, mustering up all her courage as the Monarch of the turf.
Gingerly picking up the opening, she slowly undid the clasp.
Revealing two very asleep, very clueless foals, who had definitely been in their homes not long before.
As the reality of the situation slowly dawned on her, Mejiro McQueen held the bridge of her nose.
“Gold Ship. Did you? Seriously, just bring over. Kitasan Black and Satono Diamond, just to prove a point?”
Gold Ship shuddered ‘awake’.
“Ah, fresh new life has reached my soul! I thank you, Mackie. i wasn’t sure if the blood loss alone –"
“DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU’VE JUST DONE? YOU’VE KIDNAPPED TWO HELPLESS CHILDREN, GOLD SHIP. YOU’VE KIDNAPPED THEM.”
McQueen was thoroughly frazzled now, any and all thoughts of their previous discussion forgotten, her attention now on the two umamusume within the sack.
“H-HOW DID YOU EVEN MANAGE THAT? YOU HIT THE SATONO ESTATE AND KITASAN BLACKS HOME, IN THE SPAN OF NOT EVEN 10 MINUTES! FROM THE SIDE OF THE BEACH NO LESS!”
“This balaclava features warp drive, baby!”
Gold Ship cackled in the face of a thoroughly exhausted McQueen.
“With about a 20% increase to my speed, it was easy. Though, you might want to tell Dia to up her security; it’s concerningly easy.”
Incredulously, McQueen vaguely registered Teio out of the corner of her eye, attempting to calm her down. It was a vain attempt, but a valiant one nonetheless. One of the children, stirring from the sound, woke up.
“Mmm… Butler? Kita-chan?”
Satono Diamond, ever precious, rubbed her eyes, seemingly unaware of her situation. Her eyes widened, spotting McQueen.
“MCQUEEN-SAN!!”
Her excitement blew away all of her apparent fatigue, eyes wide open now. Tail going wild, she shook Kitasan.
“Kita-chan, Kita-chan! I think Spica’s invited us to a SLEEPOVER!!”
Kitasan woke up, perfectly alert. She took stock of her surroundings, and without a single hint of confusion at her circumstances, began to squeal in excitement alongside her best friend.
“Teio-san! I was there at your Arima Kinen, you know! I was there! How is your leg, McQueen-san? Is it fine? Does it hurt? Can you race against Teio-san again?”
The two wide-eyed excitations exuded a contagious joy. However, McQueen's mortification had thoroughly vaccinated herself against their charms.
“Gold Ship. You must leave right now. Get them back to their homes this instant.”
“Aww, are we not allowed to stay?”
Dia widened her eyes as far as they would go, clasping her hands together in a lethal pout. She nudged Kitasan Black, who, without missing a beat, did the same.
“Please, McQueen-san? We’ll be good!”
THAT'S NOT THE PROBLEM HERE!!
McQueen had no idea how to respond. Emotionally, it was wrong. Morally, it was a travesty. Legally, it was career-ending. But no single umamusume in the world could have possibly resisted the two at that moment. Interestingly enough, it was Suzuka whose voice pierced McQueen's deliberating silence.
“I think they can stay. They’ll probably know better than to tell anyone about this, and these two leave their houses early to hang out all the time. Their parents will probably just think Kita and Dia decided to meet up again.”
It was flimsy. In fact, McQueen had expected far more from Suzuka of all people, and there was no way in HELL she was compromising on this stance—
“Please, Queenie? Look at how cute we are! Your monarch is begging you!”
Teio had joined the two, lip quivering and tail moving from side to side, the picture of innocence.
Oh for heavens sakes.
“... just make sure I don’t take the blame for this.”
Teio gave a loud cheer, high-fiving both Kitasan and Dia. Gold Ship got up off the ground fully at this.
“Alright! And now, for the main event!”
Teio went white.
“I change my mind, they can leave.”
Gold Ship ignored her. She turned towards the two children.
“Kita-chan! Dia-chan! Do these two idiots!”
She pointed at McQueen and Teio, both thoroughly uncomfortable.
“Look like a couple?”
Satono Diamond thought for a second.
Kitasan Black thought for a second.
Time seemed to stand still as every last member of Spica gathered to hear the children's verdict.
“Yeah! Those two are a really great couple of friends, just like us!”
The two beamed, blissfully unaware of Teio's and McQueen's horror.
“W-WAIT! THEY SAID FRIENDS! FRIENDS!!”
It could be said that the three goddesses bring many blessings to the umamusume of the world. Fresh inspiration, physical vigour, a renewed perspective on their careers.
In this moment, however, the three goddesses placed a profane devil on the shoulder of these two children.
“Well, how do you tell if they’re a couple then?”, Dia asked innocently.
Gold Ship closed her eyes. The goddess of victory had smiled upon her.
“You ask them for their phone wallpapers.”
Swept up in the utter excitement of learning more about their heroes, they swarmed.
“Can we? Can we?”
“Oh, I wonder what Teio-san will have for hers! Probably something really cool!”
Gold Ships victory was all but assured.
Teio gulped. She knew well her fate was sealed. She slowly pulled out her phone, ready to accept her capital punishment.
Well, it had to happen. Teio was glad. It was a well-known fact around Tracen that, as the Mejiro-obsessed nut that she was, McQueen's lock screen was her family's logo. At the very least, she’d spare her the humiliation.
Although…
Curiously enough, McQueen seemed to be just as hesitant to show hers off.
“Psst… Hey, Queenie, is everything alright?”
At a stark contrast to the angry crimson that had painted her face not long before, a ghostly white covered her face like a fine layer of chalk. This was true, genuine fear.
But why? No way someone like her could have a home screen anywhere near as embarrassing as mine, right?
McQueen was fighting a different battle entirely.
Gold Ship, I swear on my name, I will bury you under the turf if it’s the last thing I do.
Shooting what felt like McQueens hundredth withering glare of the day, Gold Ship fluttered her eyelashes.
They turned their phones on.
As expected, McQueen sported the sleek Mejiro logo. Teio sheepishly revealed a photo of Team Spica. An old photoshoot they’d taken shortly after the formation of the full team. As Kita and Dia ooh’d and aah’d, the two breathed a mental sigh of relief.
Scarlet pulled out her own phone, miming a password, and their hearts dropped. The entirety of Spica was really out to get them today.
‘Scarlet better not ask me for dance lessons ever again…’
Teio punched in her password. (McQueen disapprovingly noted that the password in question was the number '0' repeated 6 times).
And there it was.
On her home screen, clear as day, Teio and McQueen, wearing cute Halloween costumes, are putting up double peace signs to the camera. They both look like they’re having the time of their lives. Slightly difficult to explain, but understandable. It was a fun photo, and Spica agreed it was an important day for the both of them.
“Hey, I remember that! Do you remember Dia-chan? Do you?”
Now, what could McQueen possibly have that's worth hiding?
McQueen, quite reluctantly, tapped her password in with both hands, with the solemn resignation of a soldier entering the trenches.
261293.
Suzuka raised an eyebrow.
Spica had long since gotten over the novelty of making fun of Teio and McQueen, at least for the day. But what greeted their eyes was simply impossible to ignore.
Because emblazoned on McQueen's home screen was not only the same photo of Teio and McQueen but also multiple cute filters and edits made, with several puffy hearts CLEARLY surrounding Teio.
Silence.
Utter, excruciating silence.
Vodka broke, a barely restrained chortle escaping her lips.
Scarlet followed, doubling over entirely, with Gold Ship falling to the floor once more, slamming her fists into the floor. Truly, how else could one react in this situation?
If they’d been laughing before, words could not describe the uproarious cacophony of mirth erupting from the Spica dorm at that moment, in no small part including Teio (albeit with yet another scarlet blush covering her face).
“I-I JUST THOUGHT IT WAS A NICE PHOTO!”
McQueen was truly never going to live this down for the rest of her semester. Hell, the rest of her time at Tracen Academy in general was doomed. It was completely over for her.
“Just… keep this between us? Ryan and Palmer already choose to occupy so much of my precious time with such base teasing; I shudder to think of what they would do with something like this.”
Vodka paused her laughter for a second, with great difficulty. A grin that had become far too familiar to the rest of the group unfortunately graced her lips.
“YOUR TIME SPENT DOING WHAT? RACING WITH TEIO? PLAYING PATTY CAKE WITH TEIO?”
Such an absurd mental image was the final nail in the coffin. As Teio and McQueen stood, thoroughly red-faced, they stood and waited for the violent assault to cease.
“Really, we… we aren’t more than friends…”
Suzuka was thankfully the first to stop her giggling, regaining her composure.
“Well, McQueen-san, you have to admit it is quite difficult to deny at this point. But, if even you refuse to accept it, then I suppose I have one more question to ask you.”
She walked to the centre of the room, the long-forgotten bottle of mustard sitting still.
“I couldn’t help but notice that your password spells something quite interesting.”
With the conviction of a trained gunman, she pointed the bottle directly at McQueen.
“McQueen-san. What is your favourite race? It can be one that you, or anybody else, has participated in. If you answer honestly, every single individual here will drink from this bottle.”
Although momentary protests could be heard from the group, curiosity got the better of the rest of them. Besides, they had to let McQueen have a win at least once, right?
‘Finally, I can get back on them for this… they’ll all regret the day they went after me and Teio like this!’
She opened her mouth.
“Well, obviously it’s the… the…”
She faltered.
“It’s…”
The sounds of the room dulled. McQueen stared at the bottle in Suzuka's hand.
---
Tokai Teio.
She stood beside her, beaming in her ridiculous, childish casual wear. They were at an arcade, and Teio had just pulled two plushies of themselves. “Look, Queenie! They’re holding hands!”
Tokai Teio.
She lay down on the bed next to her, reading some manga she didn’t know the name of, sipping a drink. Humming a familiar tune, McQueen hugs her from the back. She can’t help but hope this moment lasts forever.
Tokai Teio.
Rain fell all around them. The cold pierced through her very bones, reaching her soul. Cool blues stared into crushed lilacs. She held McQueen's hand, making an impossible promise. A promise that would require nothing short of a miracle.
“...”
Tokai Teio.
Sapphire eyes burning with a fire hotter than anything McQueen thought was possible. A regal white and blue outfit, glad to decorate its owner once more. A war cry and a final spurt, compelled by the wings of two umamusumes' dreams.
A miracle to define a generation.
---
“Well?”
All of Spica stared expectantly at McQueen, the machinery behind her eyes grinding clear as day.
A solemn expression crossed her face. She gestured to Suzuka to come closer. Expectantly, she complied.
She faced Teio, a faint, almost unreadable smile on her face.
Before grabbing the bottle from Suzuka’s hands and downing the entire mixture.
“DAMN! MACKIE, SLOW DOWN!”
Gold Ship seemed genuinely concerned, as were the rest of Spica. Dia nearly fainted. She was only meant to drink a sip of it, and who knew what Gold Ship could have put inside that sauce.
Throwing the bottle to the floor, she wiped her mouth before staring Gold Ship dead in the eyes.
“If I EVER catch you, or ANYBODY else in this room, speaking about ANYTHING you’ve learnt today, I swear on the three goddesses, I’ll—”
Her vision blurred. She fell to one knee, nausea overtaking her.
“McQueen! Are you okay?”
Teio, ever attentive, rushed by her side.
“Wh-what’s even in this?”
Teio checked the bottle, looking at the list of ingredients.
“Yeah, that’d be the engine oil.”
The what?
Gold Ship gave one final smirk, pulling out the silver flask from inside of her tracksuit.
“Relax, there's just a scooch of distilled marine diesel. This battleship runs hard, Mackie.”
As if on cue, Special Week and Vodka both covered their mouths.
“Might have been too potent a formula for regular people, though. Eh, we’re umamusume. We’ll survive.”
Despite the sheer, unbelievable audacity of Gold Ship intentionally poisoning her team members, right now, her only thoughts were on leaving the room before throwing up. She bolted out of the room at record speed, leaving a very disgruntled Spica in the room with Gold Ship, as well as a very confused Kitasan and Dia. Teio followed McQueen outside without a word.
“Hey, guys, come on. The only reason she got so sick was because she drank so much. Hey, HEY!”
The ensuing cacophony would cause Director Akikawa to institute restrictions and routine luggage checks on all future summer camps. It was one of the most catastrophic days to ever fall upon Spica.