Chapter Text
It was another peaceful day in the streets of Moscow, the early April was nice and peaceful. The lack of usual snow meant international racing was once again open.
On a close to landing commercial airliner sat Haru Urara, in commercial of course, she didn't make enough money in her races to get anything else, though it was uncomfortable, and she did get many odd looks she had arrived, stepping out of the plane into the gates of Sheremetyevo International Airport, Haru had come to realize just how cold it was... she had forgotten to pack a coat, she had thermal pants on but that was about it.
She stood in the middle of the airport, distressed. She was meant to meet with Rice Shower, but she was nowhere to be seen. After what felt like hours, Haru tapped the shoulder of the nearest man, a large male dressed in drab green who seemed to have not smiled since he was born. Haru spoke up, though her Russian wasn't great she tried. "Hello, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. I am a little horse from Japan. Where do I get clothes?"
The man gazed at her for a few seconds before gesturing with his hand for her to follow him. Haru followed him for a while through the run down, in need of maintenance airport, grabbed her suitcase of items she called cargo, and continued to follow him. The man would make a statement, though Haru struggled to understand him she heard something along the lines of "I take you to see Chelnoki." Haru simply nodded and kept following him, the large revolving doors of the airport slowly basking her in the fresh sunlight of the day.
On this long walk, Haru would see it all, the city of Moscow was far grayer than her home of Japan, despite the fall of socialism, the gaudy colors of Western capitalism had not yet presented themselves, the many block like housing sections appeared to almost sag under the weather, the grass was out but not flourishing. But, Haru would eventually arrive upon a street lined with Kiosks and courtyards, the large man then decided to stop leading her, giving her a gentle pat on the head before walking back to the airport.
Haru rushed to the stand, which seemed to be selling clothing. Haru spotted a basic, synthetic coat of Asian descent, but it was available for only 18,000 rubles. Haru pointed towards the coat, the seller nodded and grabbed it, putting it on the counter the nice looking old lady would speak up. "18,000 Rubles, but for such a lovely little girl as yourself... 10,000."
Despite Haru struggling to understand, she pulled out 15,000 Rubles and handed it over. The Babushka, gazing into Haru's pure, innocent pink eyes, couldn't keep the money, though, and gave Haru the money back, She looked confused holding the extra 5000 Rubles, but decided to grab the coat and put it on. She remarked as she left, "Thank you, dear grandmother."
As Haru continued to walk the streets, singing a light song under her breath she would stop at a bus stop, deciding to get to know the city of Moscow by just driving around it, luckily the bus wasn't very crowded, with her new budget, but comfortable coat, the quietness of the bus, and the dull colors of Moscow she felt her eyes starting to droop, especially after her long flight Haru couldn't stop herself from passing out.
LATER
Haru awoke, it was later now, the sun was ready to start lowering, and the moon was ready to greet the sky. She quickly got off the bus. She was even more lost than before and could only hope to find her way through luck. Standing out against Moscow's dull skyline stood a unique building, it had a red, pitched roof and large sprawling windows. It was... Pizza Hut. She felt her stomach grumble and decided to enter.
The heavy glass door shut behind her, and she noticed the quietness of the place. There was a note on the door, but she couldn't read Russian yet. The brass trims for decor, high backed booths, the fake tropical plants, and the food set an atmosphere that Haru had not yet seen in Moscow...
Then she noticed it, an old looking man, his face down, enjoying a large pepperoni pizza. A unique birthmark sat on his balding head. Haru couldn't help but try to cheer him up, she walked over with positive intent in her steps, sitting down in front of him. She'd question him. "My friend, what has you so down?"
The old man would look up at her, he looked shocked for a second, maybe it was his first time seeing an uma?, but as he looked to the side, and Haru followed she noticed multiple men, dressed in matching uniform standing aside the booth, but then, the old man would reach his hand out in a stop, he demanded "Leave little girl to speak. She must stay, no fear."
Haru turned back to him, insisting, "So what is bothering you, sir?" The old man looked across the table, deciding to respond to her in his professional voice. "I have made many mistakes. My past reforms, everyone said they were gonna fail, and often they were correct."
Haru tapped her hands on the table gently, pondering before her ears slowly lifted as she spoke. "My trainer says I run wrong too, but I still run!" The old man would glance at her, his hands reaching down to his pizza, ripping a slice out and offering it to her. Haru couldn't say no, and as she ate it, he would exclaim back to her. "There's a difference, little horse girl... when I lost 200 million people felt it..." Sadness laced his voice, but Haru didn't seem to pick up on it over his accent.
Her eyes squinted slightly, and she tilted her head. She murmured to him, food still in her mouth. "That's a lot of fans... I only have maybe twelve." Haru would then continue to eat the pizza, she ate like she hadn't in days.
The old man would reach for another slice, giving it to our favorite daughter. "Watching Yeltsin run this country into the ground is a worse feeling than death. If I were still in power, things may be better." The man sighed. Haru was a bit puzzled, but she continued to eat as the old man went on something about shock therapy and irresponsible privatization.
Haru would eventually finish a few more slices. Now being full, the old man decided to let her know she could go, but Haru didn't want to yet. "I was worried about you, but I can understand your issue now. I'd also like to think I won't let losing get me down, but it does sometimes..."
The old man looked surprised for a small nick of time, but he nodded and reached his hand out. "You can call me Mikhail Gorbachev. You?" he added. Haru would reach her hand out, shaking his.
"You can call me Haru Urara, it was nice meeting you sir Gorbachev," she exclaimed, but she knew it was time to leave, she stood up and shook the man's hand one last time before leaving, the heavy glass doors were pushed open again as she stepped out into Moscow which was now bathed in moonlight, she looked into the Pizza Hut window, one more time before leaving, her usual smile wider than before.