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Berno Light let out a long, wistful sigh, staring off towards distant waters.
It was strange, being so far away from home. Away from Tracen, from Roppei, Jo, her old classmates… Oguri. With her resume (and, admittedly, her parents' absurd wealth) she could have gone anywhere in Japan, anywhere in the world. Hell, she could have just as easily stayed— Tracen certainly would have accommodated her until she was a full-fledged trainer.
But Berno chose to leave, chose to apply to the California Institute for Advanced Horsegirl Studies and move an ocean away. She was a big girl, she could handle it. It was necessary. Her bond with Oguri Cap was precious to her, but it had weaved its way so tightly into everything that Berno did that she didn't know what she'd ever do without it. She was almost all Berno ever thought about, Oguri, Oguri, Oguri… And then Oguri moved her way up to the Dream Series, to racing with Tamamo Cross again, and Berno discovered there were places Oguri wanted to go that she simply could not follow.
Berno would get over it eventually. She couldn't be selfish, Oguri was not hers to keep, and, well… She wasn't Oguri's to keep either. So distance was good. Distance meant they could both develop on their own, in a way they just couldn't together. And staying, watching Oguri race from the stands like she always had, like she'd always enjoyed before…
It wouldn't have been the same. Even if it hurt, staying would have only hurt more.
Berno took a sip from her tea, letting the feeling of warmth rolling down her throat center her. She sat alone at an outside table, taking in the sights around the breakfast cafe she'd found not far from her new apartment. It was a charming little place, one with an uma-specialized menu and big, American-sized portions that Oguri would have—
No, Oguri was far away now. Berno didn't have to think about things in terms of being her best friend or her assistant trainer or her wanna-be— Berno dismissed the thought, she only had to consider things in terms of herself right now. That's why she was there, after all, a foreign uma in a foreign land. To carve out a little space in it that can be hers and hers alone. Soon enough, her apartment and this little cafe and the walkway with the nice little park between there and the Institute will all be home.
The jump to Los Angeles was no more jarring than the jump from small-town Kasamatsu to Tokyo had been. The process of making it feel like home, of making the unfamiliar landscapes feel lived in, would come just as naturally as before. Existing in the space, observing all the people going about their daily lives until she understands the rhythm of the city like it is her own, Berno would do it. It would just be a bit lonelier than last time.
As Berno moved to take a bite of hashbrowns so greasy they tasted like sin itself, her ears perked up. A vaguely familiar voice called out above the ambient noise of the city.
"James Bond?"
Berno looked up, brows furrowed.
"James Bond, it really is you!"
There, walking towards her in long strides, was an uma with long cascading blonde hair that tapered into blue at its ends. Between the distinctive hair and the strange nickname, it only took Berno a moment to place her, "Obey Your Master?"
"So you do remember me! What are you doing so far from home, Bond? More international espionage?" Without even waiting for an answer, Obey slid a seat out and sat down across from her at the little outdoor table. Obey was already tall for an American uma, so for a Japanese like Berno she practically towered over her as she leaned forward, one arm propped against the table while the other held a newspaper to the side.
She was completely dressed down compared to when Berno had last seen her, both in person and through tapes. A long pair of denim jeans and a red flannel shirt made her almost look the part of a regular uma, the kind Berno might have as a classmate at the Institute. But the intensity of her gaze, like the sun shining bright in the clear blues of her eyes as she bore down on Berno, that had not changed at all.
Obey raised a single brow at her, and Berno suddenly found herself interested in picking idly at her eggs with a fork. "I, uh, I'm studying at CIAHS to be a trainer."
"Really? We're practically neighbors then! I'm in UCLA's theater program."
Berno looked up again, eyes wide with shock. She hadn't expected to find a familiar face here, let alone one that might be sticking around. "That's amazing! Do you still race?"
It was just a polite filler question, something to carry forward the conversation. But Berno saw the way Obey's ears drooped slightly, her smile becoming more rigid. If she hadn't been paying close attention, she would have missed it entirely. "No, I'm past my prime, you know?"
"But what about…" Berno racked her brain, trying to recall the American name for it, "what about the Legacy League? Couldn't you run there?" Every semi-retired racer Berno knew back in Japan had opted to run in the Dream Series, after all, why would it be different here?
"Hah!" Obey barked out a short, incredulous laugh, leaning back in her small chair, "The Legacy League is for horsegirls that have a legacy. It's only been loss after loss for me, and nobody really cares that I won a G1 race all the way in Japan if I can't do it here at home."
It was probably naive of her, and definitely hypocritical, but that answer only added to Berno's unease at the notion of someone like Obey not running, "I'm sure Japan would love to have you then! The Dream Series has accepted foreign uma before, if you—"
"— Hey!" Berno instinctively flinched back as she got whapped right between the ears by a rolled up newspaper.
"Don't try to get my hopes up, Bond. I was just a flash in the pan. Nobody remembers me over there either, I've accepted that," Obey responded, sounding like she very much hadn't.
Then, she did something odd. She raised a hand palm-inward to rest just under her face, then swept it upward like it was a rising curtain. "'Sides, all my little Japanese friends will see me once I'm on the big screen, ya know?" She winked at Berno, tongue stuck out playfully and for just a moment, it was like their first meeting again and Obey was just the mask of a playfully ignorant American. As quickly as it came though, she lowered the curtain and the mask fell away.
It took a moment for Berno to respond, given the jarring shift, but eventually she found the words she needed. "Well I remember you."
"You remembered my name, at least," Obey huffed.
"No really, I do!" Berno was running on instinct now, the instinct of all good trainers to uplift an uma when they're down, "I still watch your winning Japan Cup run at least once a month! It's one of the few tapes I brought over here. I- I even have your second run's tape too!"
Obey stared at her in thinly-veiled shock as she plowed ahead.
"Your racing is beautiful. The level of coordination and skill on display is just breathtaking. Like, like every step is part of an intricate dance only you know about, and everyone else is background! Even with Oguri or Tamamo Cross running right beside you, I can never take my eyes off of you on those tapes."
Berno could see the rosiness spreading across Obey's cheeks now, and felt her own heating up in turn. It was all true though! Both of Obey's runs were so intricate that Berno often found herself watching them again, trying to pick apart the layers of strategy that went into every movement. She just hadn't meant for it to sound so… impassioned. "I think if you really put your mind to it, you could still be an amazing runner. With all your analytical skills, you could probably surpass me as a trainer too."
As she finished her impromptu speech, Berno stabbed her fork into a particularly big piece of carrot sausage and shoved it into her mouth. It may have been enough to make her cheeks puff up like a squirrel, but at least it meant she was too busy chewing to say anything else embarrassing.
"Oh. That's… Thank you," Obey responded, and the sincerity in her voice seemed to surprise her even more than it did Berno, but she quickly shook it off. Leaning forward, Obey flashed a charming grin, "Maybe we could go out to one of the practice tracks sometime? I'm a bit out of practice, but I could give you a private show, let you get up close and personal, y'know?"
Berno swallowed the chunk of sausage before she'd even finished chewing and had to desperately wash it down with water for fear of choking. She could imagine the obituary everyone in Japan would have seen had that gone worse: 'Berno Light, age 19, was taken from us yesterday when a pretty American uma batted her eyelashes at her.' "Umm, y-yea. I'd love to see you run."
"Perfect. Here, do you have a pen?" Obey asked as she pushed the dishes around their small table until she had just enough room to lay out the top of her newspaper.
"Yes, I should have one right in here," Berno reached down into the satchel slung at her chair's side, fishing around for a moment before coming back up with a simple black pen. "What do you… Huh?" The paper spread out across the table wasn't some local American newspaper, it was Japanese Racing Weekly. And right there, spread across the top in a full shot, were Oguri Cap and Tamamo Cross sprinting side-by-side into a photo finish.
Berno hadn't even known there was a race coming up. She felt nauseating guilt and relief all at once. She should call Oguri tonight and congratulate her, right? They were still best friends, even if Berno's own stupid feelings got in the way.
"It helps me keep my language skills sharp, you know?" Obey chimed in.
"Yea. Here you go." Berno responded automatically, so focused on the picture laid out in front of her that she didn't really register what Obey had said or even that they'd both switched to Japanese. The pen she offered up left her hand, but she didn't pay that any mind either.
Oguri looked happy. Really, really happy. Enough that she could see it through the sweat and dirt and gritted teeth, blazing like fire in her eyes. She was exactly where she wanted to be, running with Tamamo Cross.
That wasn't something Berno could offer her. She could give her custom-made shoes and specialized training regiments and trips to expensive recovery facilities. She could follow, supporting her from behind, but she couldn't get up beside her, couldn't push her to her very limits like Oguri really wanted, like Oguri really deserved.
Suddenly the image of Oguri and Tamamo Cross was swept out of sight, replaced by a manicured hand tapping at the table.
Berno jolted back, tail standing on end for a moment as she reoriented herself into reality. Obey stared at her from across their little table, a strange look on her face Berno couldn't (in part due to sheer embarrassment) parse. "So, Oguri, huh?"
"W-what do you mean?"
"You really need to work on schooling your expressions better. Come on, how would she say it…" Obey trailed off, drumming her fingers on the table before suddenly leaning over, face pressing close to Berno's own, "… spill the deets, kay?" For the briefest moment, it seemed like Obey's pupils reshaped into twinkling stars, but Berno blinked and they were gone and Obey was leaning back in her chair like none of it had even happened.
"There… Isn't anything between me and Oguri, honestly." Was the best response Berno could muster, trying not to let the disappointment leak through.
"But you wish there was," Obey said. Not as a question, but as a statement which they both let hang in the air between them. Berno unwilling to answer, and Obey seemingly perfectly willing to let her stew in it for the moment.
"Hmm…" Obey hummed, turning to look off into the middle distance. After a few more moments, each of which dragging on as Berno waited for her to follow up, she pulled up her newspaper and stared at the image that got Berno so worked up in the first place. "You know, there was never anything between me and Tamamo Cross either."
"Huh?" Berno was confused. Was this some weird, roundabout way of mocking her?
But Obey continued, "In order to beat her at the Japan Cup, I learned everything I could about her. Racing style, habits, shoe sizes, every little scrap of information I could get my hands on from an ocean away. By the time I actually met her it was like I already knew her intimately…" She folded the newspaper in half, "Of course I didn't actually, but it certainly felt that way at the time."
"And then the moment I'd prepared so long for came, and we raced," Obey looked at her, but Berno could tell her mind was elsewhere, in another time and place, "I pulled out every trick in the book, read almost every move she made before the race even started and countered it all, and she still made me run harder for it than I ever have in my entire life… I saw it, Berno. It was cloaked in shadowy starlight, it was completely unstable, but I saw it."
And Berno knew what she meant. The place some racers went at the very peak of their effort, the place usually mentioned only in oblique references and hushed tones like it was a sacred rite. It. The Zone. The pinnacle it was said that all umamusume strived for, whether they knew it or not.
"After that, I just had to see her, had to know even more. So I approached her backstage before my victory concert, just to thank her and exchange some banter, and you know what she said to me?" Obey leaned forward, hand cupping her mouth as though she was about to pass on a salacious secret, "She looked at me, with all my stupid tricks, and said I look better without the mask. Hah!" She slapped the table mockingly as she leaned back, "She thought she knew what I was like behind the mask, and I thought that meant something. Turns out, we were both wrong."
Berno stared at her. Obey stared back, an affected relaxedness in her posture. The sounds of the city slowly crept their way back into the space around their little breakfast table. Finally, Berno spoke, "Is that it?"
"Hmm?" Obey tilted her head to the side.
"With Tamamo Cross, is, is that it?"
"What more can I say?" Obey shrugged, "I told her I wanted to race her again and she retired a month later. We exchanged letters for a while, but when I invited her to my second Japan Cup she didn't show. There you have it, nothing between us. Just like there's nothing between you and Oguri."
"But…" There were so many things Berno wanted to say. That Obey deserved better, that there was still a chance for more, that she could still be racing right there beside Tamamo and Oguri. It was in her nature to want to help like that, to want to meddle, but it fell apart as it reached her lips— hypocrisy, all of it hypocrisy, pure and simple.
"… Why tell me all this?" That was the better thing to say, Berno decided. They may have only met once years ago, but Obey had left a particularly strong impression in both her words and her racing that whatever she did, there was always an angle to it.
"Why indeed? Maybe I just wanted to commiserate a bit with someone who felt the same, or maybe I just did it all for a bit of conversation. Or maybe…" Obey slid out of her seat and circled the table, kneeling down to Berno's level, "Maybe, I said it all so you'd understand me when I say this:"
As Obey leaned closer, one hand rising to caress Berno's arm as the other lightly grasped her hand, she continued, "Tamamo Cross wasn't the only one I did my research on. I did it for all of my competition: Oguri Cap, Super Creek, Inari One… But you, Berno Light, you were the one I researched the most besides her. Because you were the biggest threat, even if you weren't on the track. Because however Oguri Cap ran, whatever strategies she would use, if she was going to beat me it would all come from you."
Under Obey's sharp gaze, Berno felt a bit like prey, heart thumping loudly in her chest and every slightest touch sending tingling shockwaves through her nervous system.
Obey took her hand and turned it over, pressing it into her own, "And maybe I said all that to lead into this: Neither of us should tether ourselves to horsegirls that won't look back at us. They're both an ocean away, having their fun together. Why shouldn't we be the same?"
Obey let go of Berno's hand and stood up, "I was serious about letting you watch me run sometime. Maybe I could show you some local spots too, we could make a whole day of it."
Berno had never been the most social person, nor had she ever really been the focus of such attention from someone, but she was not dense (not like Oguri was). "Are you asking me on a date?"
"Well, like I said, why not? I think we could have a lot of fun together," Obey grabbed her newspaper up from the table, "I have to get going, but call me later tonight, okay?"
Before Berno could muster a proper response, Obey was already walking away. "Wait, wait!" Berno called out, she didn't even have her—
Berno looked down, noticing for the first time that a rolled up bit of newspaper had been slipped into her hand while Obey… propositioned her. Unrolling it, she saw a phone number written across it in tight, neat lettering. She looked back up towards Obey's retreating form.
Obey turned her head back towards her as she kept walking, and Berno could see the sharp edge of her impossibly-wide grin even at a distance. Obey yelled back over her shoulder, "Seriously, call me! I know how to track you down if you don't, James Bond!"
Huh.
Berno watched her swaying blonde tail until it turned around a corner and disappeared into the cityscape.
Then she looked back down at the paper in her hand.
Huh.