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"Teio-san, how do you feel about McQueen-san?!"
"Huh?"
"PFFTCH——"
A clear sunny day on the training ground, a rest break between sessions. Teio was chatting idly with the group she'd been training alongside when a girl with dark, glossy hair planted her feet, clenched her fists, and fired the question at point-blank range. Her companion — a chestnut-haired girl — promptly spit out her sports drink across the grass.
"Cough — hack — ugh, that went somewhere it wasn't supposed to——"
"Um…… about McQueen?"
"Yes!! Exactly!! About McQueen-san!!"
The urgency in the girl's eyes had the specific quality of someone who had held this question in for some time and could not hold it even one second longer. It reminded Teio distinctly of Agnes Digital, which made her instinctively take a small step backward.
"McQueen, huh……"
Teio tilted her head, thinking genuinely. The girl across from her watched with eyes that had gone incandescent with anticipation.
"Well…… I mean, obviously she's my best friend and my rival! The best one I've got!"
She and McQueen were rivals in the fullest sense — they'd pushed each other through races, through setbacks, through the particular specific effort of trying to deserve each other across a track. Beyond that: they'd spent more and more time together off the circuit, and there was a simple comfort in McQueen's company, a quality of rightness when they were in the same room, that Teio had come to rely on without quite noticing. Best friend wasn't even overselling it. Most important person might be closer.
So that was the honest truth. And somehow, the dark-haired girl looked faintly unsatisfied.
"……Of course I know you're rivals and best friends. Everyone knows that."
"Oh — then why did you——"
"What I mean is——"
"Hey, hold on a second——" the chestnut girl tried to intervene.
"Sorry," the dark-haired girl said, without sounding sorry, sweeping the chestnut girl's feet out from under her in a fluid motion that sent her sprawling.
"Oof — you——"
"But this opportunity is too important——"
From the way both of these things happened without a flicker of surprise or protest, it was clearly how these two usually operated. It reminded Teio of McQueen managing Gold Ship. With similar energy.
"What I mean, Teio-san——"
"Y-yeah?"
"How do you feel about McQueen-san romantically!!!"
"……Oh."
Romantically. About McQueen. Well.
Of course she liked McQueen. But romantically was a different question. These things weren't completely alien to Teio — she read shojo manga, she gossiped about crushes with Mayano sometimes, she'd had the experience of reading certain adult-targeted magazines and going kyaah at the kind of sweeping romantic scenarios in them. She understood love as a concept.
But when it was her own feelings in question — specifically whether what she felt for McQueen was in that territory — she genuinely wasn't sure. She liked McQueen enormously. McQueen was dear to her in a way she didn't have words for. But romantically?
She didn't know how to answer that.
"Honestly……? I'm not sure. Sorry."
"WHAT!!" The dark-haired girl looked like she'd been physically struck. "After that embrace at the Spring Tenno Sho?! After you kept your promise at the Arima specifically for McQueen-san?! Still not sure?!"
"You — really watched carefully, didn't you……"
(How did she even know about the Arima promise? Weren't they the only two people there……?)
"I thought the engagement had already been announced and the families had already met — this is — this is — my interpretation——" The girl descended into grinding her teeth and clawing at her own hair, eyes leaking a kind of abstract distress.
"……That sounds difficult. I'm sorry?"
"It's fine, Teio-san. She's the difficult one." The chestnut girl, having stood back up, fixed Teio with the flat, exhausted gaze of someone who had been dealing with this for years. "Don't apologize."
"If that's how it is, then I'll just have to go to McQueen-san——"
"May I ask what this is about?"
A familiar voice. McQueen, in her uniform, walking across the grounds toward them with the unhurried elegance of someone who had not been searching for Teio at all and simply happened to be here by chance.
"Oh! McQueen! What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here? You're the one who forgot we had plans, Teio." A slight arch of an eyebrow. "We were to visit the estate today. I waited until past the appointed time and then came to find you."
"Oh no, is it really that late already——" Teio checked her phone. It was, in fact, very much past the appointed time.
"Indeed." McQueen's tone was fond in the way that only came with genuine exasperation. "You may chat, but do keep track of time."
"Sorry, sorry! Okay, let's go. Bye, you two——"
"Thank you, Teio-san! And — excuse me, just a moment, McQueen-san——"
The dark-haired girl stood up, and McQueen's eyes flicked to her with very faint displeasure — the expression of someone who had somewhere to be.
"……Yes? Briefly, please."
"How do you feel about Teio-san? Romantically?"
"……" McQueen regarded her. "Naturally, she is my best friend and my irreplaceable rival."
"But — romantically——"
"I don't understand the question," McQueen said, with perfect serenity, and turned away.
The dark-haired girl began to cry.
Teio caught a flicker of something — the tiniest, briefest curve at the corner of McQueen's mouth. Gone before she could be sure she'd seen it. McQueen was already walking ahead.
At the Mejiro Estate, McQueen's room.
"You really must be more careful with time," McQueen said, pouring tea. "It's inconsiderate to the people waiting for you."
"I know, I know. Sorry, McQueen." Teio curled up on the edge of the bed. "That girl was a little intense though, right?"
"The dark-haired one? Yes, I've had similar encounters occasionally. Rather difficult to deal with."
"Mm……"
Teio turned it over, sipping tea. McQueen had said the same thing she had — best friend and rival, nothing more. And yet, hearing it from McQueen, she'd felt a small strange ache somewhere in her chest.
(Best friend and rival…… nothing more. Right.)
"Honestly," McQueen continued, setting down her cup. "Our purpose is racing. We have no time to be distracted by sentimental things. Wouldn't you agree, Teio?"
"Hm? Oh — yeah, absolutely! We're still active, this isn't the time for——"
"……Yes. For now." A small smile. Something faint and private in it that Teio couldn't quite read. Then it was gone, replaced by McQueen's usual composed expression. "Forgive me — I just received a message. Will you wait a moment? I'll be back shortly."
"Sure, of course."
McQueen excused herself and left.
Teio looked around the room. McQueen's bookshelf: tidy, immaculate, arranged with the precision of someone who had opinions about organizational systems. Race history texts. Tactical volumes. A recipe magazine for spring sweets sandwiched between analyses of track conditions, which was deeply McQueen in a way Teio found charming.
One book didn't have anything written on its spine.
Curious, Teio pulled at it.
Click.
The book didn't come out. But the entire bookshelf did — sliding smoothly left and right to reveal a door.
"……Is this a secret room?!"
She bounced on her heels, delighted. A hidden door. She'd read about these in adventure manga but never expected to encounter one in real life. Especially not in the home of someone who made her standards for interior propriety extremely clear.
(Whatever's in here is probably something McQueen finds embarrassing to display — some secret hobby she hides because it doesn't fit her image. Probably something endearingly cute.)
She pushed the door open.
The room was dark. Larger than McQueen's main room, it turned out — sizeable, in a way that suggested it had been set up deliberately.
"Where's the light……"
She turned on her phone's flashlight and swept it across the room. The beam caught something large in the far corner.
It was a stuffed animal. A very large stuffed animal. Seated, it was approximately Teio's height.
It was a stuffed animal that looked exactly like Teio.
"……McQueen……" Teio said slowly, "……you're kind of a huge fan of mine, aren't you."
She recognized the style — Kitasan had shown her a stuffed animal series that had been released for a few of the girls. But this wasn't official merchandise; no Teio version had been released. Which meant someone had made it. Or commissioned it to be made. In Teio's three main outfits, because now that she looked there were three of them standing in a row — white competition silks, red competition silks, and the ceremonial outfit from the Shuudaisai.
She found the light switch. She turned it on.
"……"
There was a great deal to take in.
The plushies, all three. A glass case along one wall filled with Teio merchandise, so densely packed it caught the light in a dozen directions — and among officially released goods, figurines she didn't recognize, custom items that had clearly been produced specifically for this room. A bookshelf on the opposite wall stacked with albums whose spines read: 'Teio's Race Articles: Osaka Cup.' 'Teio's Photographs: During Races.'
And then:
'Teio's Photographs: While Changing.'
'Teio's Photographs: Sleeping.'
Teio stared at those for a moment longer than the others.
On the ceiling — installed in a proper frame, blown up to the size that deserved the word portrait — a photograph of Teio mid-laugh, trophy in hand. The Arima. She recognized the moment.
There was a closet with the doors closed. Teio looked at it, looked at the rest of the room, and decided she wasn't ready to know what was in it.
"What…… is this……"
"……It seems you've seen it."
Teio turned around very slowly.
McQueen was standing in the doorway.
She didn't look surprised. She didn't look angry. She looked entirely composed in the particular way that made it impossible to tell what she was thinking, which was more alarming than either alternative.
"……H-hey, McQueen……"
McQueen stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. With a small, quiet sound, the lock engaged.
(I probably should have said something cheerful and diffusing. Something like 'Come on McQueen, you didn't have to hide all this! Let's just take photos together whenever you want!' And then left briskly.)
(But I didn't think of that in time, and now I am standing in a locked room where the person who locked it is looking at me with the specific expression a large predatory animal makes when it realizes its prey has nowhere to run.)
"……I'm sorry I came in without asking," Teio said, in a voice that was aiming for casual and landing somewhat to the left of it. "Don't be mad? Ha ha?"
"I'm not angry at all," McQueen said, pleasantly. "Please, don't be nervous."
That was the most alarming thing she could have said.
"…… O-oh. Well then. So…… this room……"
"My collection of loving devotion, as it were."
"……did you just say love?"
"I did." McQueen straightened slightly. "Since we find ourselves in this situation regardless…… Teio."
"Y-yes?"
"I realize the timing leaves something to be desired. But——" A breath. "I love you. Romantically."
"Romantically?!"
"……Yes. I said so."
The room was very quiet. Teio stood amid the evidence of a devotion that had apparently been ongoing in silence for some considerable time, being told she was loved.
"But…… you said earlier — you told that girl there wasn't anything——"
"Why on earth would I share my genuine feelings with a stranger in front of you, when you hadn't asked me yourself?" McQueen said, as though this were self-evident.
"……That's……honestly, that's fair."
"……So? Do you……" McQueen's composure flickered. She looked away. "Are you……truly asking when I started feeling this way? I couldn't give you a precise date. Perhaps from the beginning. What I know is that I understood it clearly after the Arima."
"The Arima……"
"You made a promise to me on that track. And then you kept it." McQueen's voice stayed even, but something underneath it wasn't. "Afterward, I knew with certainty. But our purpose is racing. And I didn't want my feelings to compromise what we have as rivals — that relationship is too important to me."
Teio thought about that. She understood it. If she'd been in McQueen's position — if she'd been the one carrying a feeling that might get in the way of the thing she valued most with the person she valued most — she probably would have made the same choice.
"I see…… so until you could tell me properly, you kept it here……"
"And overflowed somewhat," McQueen allowed, with a glance at the room.
"……Just a little."
She breathed.
(Loving it and finding it alarming at the same time, she realized, was probably significant.)
She closed her eyes. A flood of memories arrived: the races, the arguments, the slow hours of recovering together, McQueen's warmth and her scent and the specific sound she made when she was trying not to laugh at something Gold Ship did. The ache she'd felt hearing McQueen say nothing more to that girl.
The time it took her to understand what that meant was not very long at all.
"……Yeah," Teio said, and opened her eyes. "I'm in."
"……Teio——"
"I like you too. I think…… I think I have for a while. I just didn't realize what it was."
McQueen crossed the room in a few quiet steps and took Teio's hands in hers. Her grip was warm, careful, deliberate.
"……I'm so glad," she said.
They stood there for a moment. Teio's heart was doing something incoherent against her ribs.
"That said!" Teio said, voice slightly higher than intended. "The candid photos! The ones of me sleeping and changing!! Those have to go!!"
"……Understood." McQueen looked genuinely mournful. Like a person being asked to demolish something they'd spent years building.
"Don't make that face——"
"I'm not making a face——"
"You look bereaved——"
"I am simply processing." McQueen took a composed breath. "But you're right. Of course you're right. Now that you're……" She paused delicately. "Now that we're together, there are far better ways to add to my collection."
She turned toward the closet.
"Actually — I've been preparing for exactly this occasion." She opened the doors.
The inside of the closet was entirely full of costumes. They'd been organized by type. Cheerleader uniforms. Maid dresses. A small section Teio couldn't quite make out from this angle and didn't feel ready to examine. All of them appeared to be in Teio's size.
McQueen turned around. In one hand: a cheerleader uniform. In the other: a mini-skirt maid's outfit. Her smile was the most radiant, unselfconscious, unguarded smile Teio had ever seen on her face. It lit up her whole expression.
Oh no, Teio thought. She's beautiful.
"Teio! We're having a photoshoot! Now!"
"Ehh — I don't think those would suit me, really——"
"Each piece was custom-ordered in your exact measurements!"
"I — you — that's a lot of prep work, McQueen——"
"The flash on this camera is adjustable. Shall we begin with the outdoor natural-light shots, or would you prefer to start inside——"
"Where did the camera come from?! It wasn't there a second ago!!"
When Teio started to back toward the door, McQueen's smile softened into something more quietly earnest.
"……If you genuinely don't want to, I won't make you. Just say the word."
Her ears were doing the thing. Lowered, just slightly. Eyes wide, slightly uncertain, a thread of genuine vulnerability threaded through the performative cheer.
The effect on Teio was instantaneous and catastrophic.
(This is what losing to someone feels like,) she realized.
"……Fine. But you'd better make me look good, McQueen."
"You always look good! Now — maid outfit first, or shall we start with the cheerleader——"
"You're already holding both, I can't even choose——"
"Let's start with both and do a comparison! Now, the light in here is adequate for——"
"That's not how comparisons work——"
The photoshoot that followed ran through the night and into the early morning hours, during which Teio tried on a number of outfits about which she has elected not to elaborate, and McQueen turned out to have both a sophisticated understanding of lighting and opinions about angles that could charitably be described as thorough.
It was, despite everything, sort of wonderful.
The next morning, exhausted and squinting in the sunlight, Teio walked through the school gates with McQueen beside her, carrying a camera that she intended to continue using.
"I genuinely feel like I could sleep for a week," Teio announced.
"Today I would have preferred to simply stay home," McQueen agreed, tucking the camera under one arm and regarding the campus with mild dissatisfaction.
"And what would you have told the school?"
"I'd have thought of something." McQueen glanced sideways. "Now — regarding our relationship. I assume you'd like to tell your trainer. Beyond that?"
"Well……" Teio yawned. "I figured we'd just sort of — naturally let it come out? Why?"
"No particular reason." McQueen nodded toward the school's main thoroughfare. "Your hand, please."
"Sure." Teio took her hand.
"——EXTRA!! EXTRA!! TEIMAC IS REAL AND I WASN'T HALLUCINATING!! MY INTERPRETATIONS WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG!!"
The crowd around the source of the voice was substantial. As Teio and McQueen walked closer, the sea of students parted naturally for them, and Teio got a clear view of the center:
The dark-haired girl from yesterday, face drenched in tears and very much not crying sad tears, distributing hand-printed extra editions of what appeared to be a campus newspaper she had produced since this conversation.
"……Huh." McQueen looked unsurprised. "Faster than I expected."
"McQueen. Did you have something to do with this."
"I simply informed her that as of last evening, we were dating. She is, after all, a reporter." McQueen tilted her head. "I also notified the school paper's editorial office. It was the most efficient approach."
"When did you have time?!"
"Ah, actually — that reminds me, regarding the Mejiro family's stance: I did speak with my grandmother. She said, quote: 'Do as you like. To be independent — that is what this means.'"
"Your grandmother is great!! But she also could have maybe talked you out of——"
"She also said: 'Now that you've won the opening race, McQueen, don't let your guard down. Make sure every potential rival knows the result — including those who might compete for what's yours. Only then is victory fully secured.'"
Teio stared at her.
"……Your grandmother is a war strategist."
"She is experienced."
"The Mejiro bloodline specifically cultivated the trait of 'will not let go once they've decided something', didn't it."
"We do tend toward consistency, yes." McQueen's expression was utterly serene.
"……Fine," Teio said, and squeezed her hand. "If you're happy, I'm happy."
What followed was one of the more eventful afternoons in recent Tracen Academy history. There was the moment Air Groove, arriving to investigate reports of a "chaotic news situation," found the relevant couple walking hand in hand and became very still in the manner of a person processing impossible information. There was the moment Rudolf, having processed the information, declared with great intensity that anyone who wished to pursue a relationship with Tokai Teio must first defeat her personally in a race — which McQueen accepted without hesitation and dispatched with thoroughness that left the Chairman sitting in the dirt with the expression of someone whose protective instincts had backfired.
By evening, the rumor had upgraded to engagement, and when McQueen heard this, she nodded thoughtfully and said, "That does raise a point — we should visit the Mejiro family's preferred jeweler. I know the proprietor."
"McQueen."
"Yes?"
"We've been dating for about eighteen hours."
"Preliminary steps." A small, private smile. "The race is a long one."
Teio looked at her — this impossible, meticulous, completely ridiculous person who had apparently been in love with her for so long that she'd constructed an entire room about it — and felt the specific glow of someone who had found something very good and had been too close to see it clearly until now.
"Yeah, okay," she said. "But let's eat first."
"Of course. I know an excellent place."
They walked into the evening, and the dark-haired girl distributed the last of her extra editions, and Tracen Academy settled into a state of pleasant chaos, which was, for this school, essentially another word for peace.
~Fin~