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“Pfft— Pfft— Teio, your tail is in my—” McQueen whispered.
“It’s a closet, McQueen, it’s not meant to hold two Umamusume.”
“It’s not meant to hold any Umamusume.”
“Here, lemme—” Teio braced a hand against McQueen’s back as she shifted around. McQueen went very still.
“...Teio.”
“Yeah?”
“That is not my back.”
“...oop—” THUNK.
Teio flinched back and hit the shelves.
“Teio, be still.”
Both of them went stiff at the sound of footsteps in the corridor.
“If it gets us,” McQueen said, “I want you to know that, besides rivals, you... I consider you my—”
“McQueen, you don’t have to—”
“I must. This could be the end—”
The door opened. Light fell across two crouched Umamusume and a mop.
Gold Ship stood grinning. “There ya are. Time to come out.”
8 HOURS EARLIER
Special Week stood in the middle of the main hall with a clipboard, bouncing on her heels.
“Gates-open tonight! Banners, lanterns, the whole food row, everybody who comes eats till they’re happy and nobody goes home hungry. This’ll be the best fan-fest Tracen’s ever had!”
“Uh-huh,” Vodka said.
“Scarlet, lanterns. Vodka, you’re with her. And if anyone sees King Halo, the banner is NOT a slide.”
“I do not require being ‘with’ Vodka,” Daiwa said.
Vodka hung a lantern. “Lanterns. My specialty.”
“It’s upside down.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Yes it is.”
“Have you hung these before?”
“No.”
“Then how do you—”
“I just do—”
“Looks cooler this way.”
“Oh—” Special Week dug a page out of the stack under her arm. “Rudolf sent instructions from the student council! Here.” She handed it to Daiwa.
“Give me that. See, Vodka, it says—” Daiwa turned the page one way, then another, then a third, but the ink had smeared into gray clouds. “...wait. How can you even read this? The words are all fuzzy.”
Special Week shrugged. “She faxed it. I think the machine was set to low quality.”
“Hmph. Number one won’t be stopped by a blurry print.”
“She faxed it?” Vodka asked, incredulous. “What year is this?”
“I know, right!” Teio said as she went past with her arms full of banners.
“...wait, no. I’m seriously askin’—”
“Vodka,” Daiwa called. “That one is upside down. Again.”
“You just said you can’t even read the instructions, Scarlet—”
Gold Ship came through the double doors holding what appeared to be an old alarm clock with knots of frayed wires spouting from the top.
She slammed it on a table with a proud smile.
“Mornin’, ladies. And McQueen—”
“What is that supposed to—”
“—Meet the RR.”
“The what,” Daiwa said.
“The Rival Radar. Reads the tension between rivals.” Gold Ship patted it. “Never wrong.”
Daiwa rolled her eyes. “Tension between rivals? Seriously? Racing rivalries are inherently tense—”
“Romantic tension,” Gold Ship said with a grin.
The room fell silent as everyone looked at Gold Ship, their skepticism now mixed with a healthy dose of caution.
Teio looked at it as she walked past. “...detects it how, exactly? Does it beep, or—”
“Teio. Keep walking,” McQueen said.
“I’m just asking!”
Special Week did not look up from her clipboard. “Great, an extra pair of hands. Golshi, can it hang lanterns?”
Gold Ship considered it. “No?”
“Then it’s on banners.”
The room went back to work, but Vodka did not.
“That can’t be a real thing though, can it?”
Gold Ship grinned. “Are you volunteering?”
“Pfft. Haha.” Vodka slowly shuffled away. “I don’t have romantic tension, that’d be so lame! I mean—”
CRASH
Vodka jumped as the lantern she’d just hung crashed to the ground right beside her.
Daiwa rounded on her. “I TOLD you it was upside down!”
“It was FINE, Scarlet. It’s a defective lantern.”
“Defective?! You hung it wrong!”
“Why do you care so much, Miss Perfect?”
“Because you could’ve been hurt you— you DUMMY!”
BEEP.
The room turned and stared at the two of them.
“...was that you?” Vodka said.
“Why would it be ME—”
BEEP.
“Radar alert, radar alert,” Gold Ship sang. “Rival signal detected!”
“...What?” Daiwa looked at the clock. “As if that thing could—”
“No...” McQueen said with wide eyes, backing away.
“What? McQueen, c’mon.” Vodka held up her hands. “You can’t really believe— there’s no way me ’n DAIWA have—”
BEEP.
Daiwa and Vodka froze.
They ran.
“Hey guys, can someone grab the—” Special Week looked up from her clipboard. “Oh, wow, already on it? Nice hustle!”
Gold Ship turned toward McQueen but she already had a bewildered Teio by the shoulders and was pulling her toward the door.
“Wh— McQueen,” Teio said, “We didn’t even do the banners, why’re we—”
Gold Ship grinned after them. “Somewhere to be, Mac?”
“We are needed elsewhere,” McQueen said as she started jogging.
“Oh.” Special Week watched them go. “They must be heading to their prep station early. Great initiative.”
Gold Ship looked down at the radar. Then at Special Week, still engrossed in her clipboard.
She started moving toward her. The radar came up. One step, two—
Suzuka blocked her way.
Gold Ship looked at Suzuka.
Suzuka looked at Gold Ship.
Suzuka had an expression that said, in no uncertain terms, taking another step toward her and Spe with the Rival Radar would result in swift and disproportionate consequences.
Possibly permanent ones.
“Hm,” Gold Ship said.
She wisely redirected her course.
“Okay, time to inspect the building top to bottom!” Special Week announced.
“Hey hey,” Gold Ship said, turning back with the radar. “Speaking of tops and—”
“I’ll come with you, Spe-chan,” Suzuka said, looking pointedly at Gold Ship.
“Great!” Spe said. “Suzuka, you can carry the checklist.”
“...mm,” Suzuka said, taking it with one look back.
Gold Ship stood alone in the prep room, turning the Rival Radar over in her hand. “Nobody wants what you’d say about ’em, do they.” She grinned down at it. “I’ll have plenty of volunteers for the yakisoba stand by the end of today.”
Daiwa and Vodka were catching their breath, already in the corridor behind the main hall.
McQueen and Teio arrived. They looked at each other.
“Nobody say anything about the—” McQueen started.
“The Rival Radar?” Teio asked.
“—I said nobody—”
“C’mon, McQueen, it’s obviously a joke.”
“—what?”
Teio giggled. “Romantic tension in rivalries? Seriously?” She looked at McQueen.
McQueen gave her a long look back.
Daiwa crossed her arms. “The garden.”
“What about it?” Vodka asked.
“Rice Shower is always there. And where there’s Rice Shower—”
“There’s Mihono Bourbon,” Vodka finished. “The electronic dead zone. She sat next to me in the test last week and fried my calculator. Made me fail it—”
Daiwa rolled her eyes. “You failed because you didn’t study—”
“Did too.”
“You fell asleep watching the lecture videos!”
“I’m an unconscious learner!”
“It’s subconscious and obviously NOT if you—” Daiwa stopped and breathed. “The garden.”
Vodka nodded. “The garden.”
“Absolutely not,” McQueen said.
“What, why?” Daiwa asked.
“A Mejiro does not hide in the bushes like a scoundrel,” she said with a sniff. “There is nothing to hide from.”
Teio’s ears perked up. “Then I’m not hiding either! I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Daiwa and Vodka exchanged a look.
“I mean, we don’t—” Daiwa began.
“—have anything to hide either,” Vodka finished. “Because that’d be—”
“—ridiculous!”
“—stupid.”
They both nodded.
“But we don’t need Gold Ship spreading rumors so we’ll just avoid it for now,” Daiwa concluded.
McQueen looked unconvinced.
“Wait, this isn’t because of Rice Shower, is it?” Vodka asked.
McQueen said nothing.
“Ya know, Rice Shower?” Vodka repeated helpfully.
“I heard you the first time.”
“Oh, right. That,” Daiwa said.
McQueen turned very slowly to look at her. “I am familiar with my own race history.”
Daiwa raised her hands. “I didn’t mention—”
“The Spring Tenno Sho,” McQueen said icily.
“No, just like—” Vodka began.
“I do not dwell on it.”
“We know you don’t, McQueen,” Teio said, patting her shoulder.
“Rice Shower ran a very clean race,” McQueen said. “I hold no ill will toward her for her excellent performance in the extensively televised race where she beat me fairly in front of the entire nation on what would have been the occasion of a historic third consecutive Spring Tenno Sho and I genuinely have never thought about it since because it was a fair race that she deserved to win.”
“There’s the real third Tenno,” Vodka muttered. “3200 meters of monologue...”
McQueen’s eye twitched. “What?”
“I said motorcycles are cool.”
“So, you won’t come to the garden?” Daiwa asked her.
“I will not be within ten meters of Rice Shower and a machine that reads tension.”
“Rival tension,” Vodka reminded her.
“Wait, you have rival tension with Rice Shower?!” Teio asked.
“What? No.” McQueen defended herself. “I don’t—”
Teio’s eyes were lidded with suspicion as she loomed over McQueen.
Or, tried to, but given she was three inches shorter than McQueen, Teio achieved something more akin to looming at.
“Vodka said it—” McQueen protested.
“I thought I was your only rival. Your exclusive rival—”
“We are exclusive.” McQueen coughed. “Rivals. Exclusive rivals.”
“Then why—”
“Ask Vodka!”
Teio pouted, staring at McQueen.
McQueen’s tail swished nervously.
“Right, nothing to hide,” Daiwa said. “C’mon, Vodka, let’s hurry before Gold Ship sniffs these two out from a hundred lengths away.”
The two swiftly exited. Teio didn’t look away from McQueen.
“Is it because I didn’t beat you at the Tenno—”
“No!”
“’Cause I’ve been training my stamina—”
“I know you have—”
“—and could totally—”
“—you could not—”
“—could too—”
“—Teio I am a long distance specialist—”
“—just like Rice Shower, huh—”
“—don’t mention her—”
“—you brought her up.”
“Vodka brought her up!”
They stood, breathing heavy.
“Hmmm,” Teio said, unconvinced. “So no hiding.”
McQueen smoothed her skirt. “Of course not. A Mejiro does not hide from Gold Ship.”
“Because there’s nothing to detect.”
“Naturally.”
“And it definitely wouldn’t go off between you and Rice—”
“It would definitely not.”
Teio looked at McQueen for a moment longer, before stepping back.
“Okay! Let’s go get honeyade,” she said. “My treat!”
“Teio, you needn’t—”
“My treat, McQueen.” she repeated cheerfully, turning away, her tail brushing across McQueen, and walking down the hall.
McQueen felt warm in the face.
“Very well,” she said with a small smile, falling into step beside Teio.
They walked down the wide, empty corridor, shoulders touching.
Gold Ship approached Tosen Jordan in the quad with her new toy under her arm.
“Jordan. Sit here. Do your nails. Take names.”
Jordan looked at her. “Why would I do that?”
“Free yakisoba. All day.”
Jordan paused. “...I’m listening.”
“They line up scared. You tell ’em: work one shift, the Rival Radar leaves you alone.”
“The Rival Radar leaves you alone if you stir-fry noodles.”
“That’s the deal.”
“This sounds like a shakedown, Golshi.”
“It’s a protection racket.”
“Is that supposed to be better?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Mm.” Jordan pulled the card table over.
“That’s the spirit,” Gold Ship said, plunking the device on the table. “The Rival Radar detects romantic tension. Staffing solves itself. Beautiful, right?”
“It’s weird, is what it is,” Jordan said, eyeing it.
“Hah! Will it be weird when Golshi’s yakisoba becomes a multi-location franchise at the fan fest?”
“It’ll be weird when a mob throws you and your clock into the fountain.”
“Pshh,” Gold Ship waved a hand. “I got all of Spica running scared. Nobody wants to risk setting off the radar. Now, we just gotta get the word out.”
Seiun Sky, napping in the tree above the table, opened one eye in interest as she heard this conversation take place. She dropped from the lowest branch and landed in the grass.
“Rival Radar, huh,” she said. Seiun strolled up to the table and eyed the device. “Curious if this thing works like you say it does.”
Gold Ship picked it up and wound a few knobs on the back. “You wanna find out?”
“What do you mean?” Seiun asked, tilting her head.
“Take it to lunch with ya.” Gold Ship leaned forward conspiratorially. “See what it does around your friends.”
“Golshi, have you seen my generation,” Seiun said flatly. “Your device’d probably explode within ten feet of them.”
“Or,” Gold Ship said, leaning in, “it goes off. And everyone finally hears—”
“—proof of what I’ve been hearing,” Seiun finished.
Gold Ship nodded. “Exactly. You’re the trickster, Sei-chan. No one could set this off better than you, I bet.”
“Yeah, I could work with that,” she said, yawning. “So what, you’re letting me borrow it? For free?”
Gold Ship nodded. “It’s advertising for me.”
“Deal.” Seiun tucked it under her arm and strolled off. “This’ll be good.”
“...huh,” said Jordan.
Gold Ship watched her go. “Bye-bye.”
In the cafeteria, Special Week had been talking for four minutes straight about Hokkaido and dairy farms. Grass Wonder had been watching Spe’s mouth the entire time. Suzuka had been watching Grass watch Spe.
“—and in Betsukai they built an actual pipeline for the milk, underground, kilometers of it, just milk, flowing under everybody’s feet the whole time!”
“I’d love to see your hometown and milk sometime, Spe-chan,” Grass said.
BEEP.
“Um... Spe-chan,” Suzuka stressed, “is in charge of our team’s festival preparation... I’m helping her.”
BEEP.
“Are you?” Grass asked. “That’s... nice.”
BEEP.
“...It is.”
BEEP.
Grass and Suzuka glanced at the small device on the tray beside Seiun Sky’s water. Seiun smiled back.
“Is that an alarm?” Grass asked.
“Of a sort,” Seiun said.
Suzuka looked at the radar, and then gave Seiun a cold look that made the fur on her tail stand on end.
“Seiun Sky,” Suzuka said. “...You’re a front runner like me.”
“...Yeah?”
“...Going too fast can be dangerous.” Suzuka narrowed her eyes. “Careful.”
Seiun shivered.
“Oh, it’s Golshi’s Rival Radar!” Special Week said helpfully, turning to Grass. “She said it detects romantic tension between rivals.”
Grass’s head slowly rotated toward Seiun. She was smiling, but her eyes were not.
Seiun began to feel as if she’d made a mistake.
“Oh? How interesting,” Grass said.
“I think Golshi was just joking, though!” Spe continued. “I mean it’s beeping now but obviously WE don’t have any romantic tension, right Grass?”
“...Yes,” Grass said pleasantly. She put a hand on her cheek. “So I wonder why you felt compelled to bring it to our table, Sei-chan.”
Seiun looked away, only to see Suzuka was still staring at her.
She gulped.
“Nyaha, you know,” Seiun said. “Just, um, a little—”
“Hola, amigas!” El Condor Pasa dropped her tray on the table and sat down. “Grass! I got us the last taiyaki, wanna split it?”
“Sure, El. That’s very kind of you.”
“But I forgot to get a knife. Wanna just bite at opposite ends and work our way to the middle?”
Grass furrowed her brow in thought at her best friend’s suggestion. “But our mouths would collide, El.”
“Ah, well,” El said, rubbing the back of her neck. “You know I’d pull out—”
Seiun almost choked on her water.
“—pull back—”
BEEEEEEP.
El paused and looked at the device. “What’s this?”
“The Rival Radar!” Spe said between inhaling scoops of rice.
“Gold Ship’s, apparently,” Grass explained. “She claims it detects romantic tension. And Sei-chan,” she said, turning toward Seiun with a hard look. “Decided to bring it to our table.”
“...Dangerous.” Suzuka agreed.
“Hehe,” Seiun chuckled weakly. “You know what, lemme just shut it off...” She grabbed the device and began fiddling with the knobs.
“But there’s no way it works!” Spe continued, oblivious. “I mean, else those beeps would mean El thinks about Grass like that!”
The taiyaki slipped from El’s fingers and landed on her tray with a splat.
“Whaaaat? Me? Us? Haha, no way!” El said with a forced smile. “Me ’n Grass? That’s, like, crazy! Super crazy!”
“Super crazy!” Spe agreed.
BEEEEEEEEEP.
Grass looked at Seiun. “Sei-chan, if you wouldn’t mind...”
“...or even if you would,” Suzuka added.
“I’m—” Seiun smacked the device. “—Tryin’!”
“Cause me ’n Grass are just roommates! And rivals! And best friends!” El rambled on. “But like, romance? I mean sure Grass is beautiful—”
BEEEEEEEEEP.
“Sei-chan.”
“I’m trying!”
“—and her eyes are like, WOW! As blue as the ocean!”
BEEEEEEEEEP.
“...Seiun Sky.”
“I’m TRYING!”
“—but there’s a fire behind ’em! And her voice is so soft—”
BEEE—
WHAM.
Seiun slammed the radar on the table.
“—and she’s so pretty—”
BEEE—
WHAM. WHAM. WHAM.
Spe, Suzuka, and Grass watched Seiun beat the table with the radar with expressions of mild concern. El, lost in thought, did not notice.
“Sky-san?” A voice said from behind. Nishino Flower had arrived in the cafeteria to see Seiun assaulting the table with an alarm clock.
Seiun turned around.
“Flower!”
Flower looked at Seiun with concern. “Are you okay? Should I get the nurse?”
“No, I just—”
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—
Seiun stood and dropped it out the nearby window.
—EEEEeeeeeeeeee— THUNK.
Everyone in the cafeteria was staring at her.
Seiun sat back down and put her head on the table.
“I just want out of my generation.”
El slammed into Gold Ship and Jordan's table at a dead sprint, nearly bowling it over.
“Immunity,” she wheezed. “Whatever it costs. That thing has to be off me.”
“Off you from what, El.” Gold Ship asked, eyes closed.
“The Rival Radar. Keep it away from me.”
Gold Ship opened one eye. “Why?”
“Cause— Whaddya mean, ‘why’?”
“Everybody already knows.”
“...Knows what.”
“Grass.”
El flinched. “W-What? Haha... I don’t know what you’re—”
“El,” Jordan said, filing her nails. “I literally saw you last week in the equipment shed.”
El’s face paled. “No...”
“Yeah. Practicin’ pick-up lines to a volleyball propped up on a broom.”
“That was— I—” El sputtered. “I was practicing greeting fans for the festival?”
“Greeting the fans with pick-up lines.” Jordan looked up. “Is that supposed to be better?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Grass Wonder’s yearbook photo was taped to the volleyball.”
El groaned and put her face in her hands.
“Yeah, n-g-l, that’s kind of a lot,” said Jordan.
“Noon shift’s open,” Gold Ship offered. “Grill’ll keep your hands too busy to think about Grass.”
El sighed. “But it’s not obvious, right? Day to day?”
“It’s like the sun,” Gold Ship said, nodding sagely. “Ya know it’s there, but it hurts to watch.”
Rice Shower crouched by a flowerbed in the Tracen gardens, gently singing to the flowers as she watered them.
The can emptied and Mihono Bourbon, standing behind her, handed her a full one.
“Thank you, Bourbon-san,” Rice said with a smile. “I appreciate you helping me.”
“It is no trouble,” Bourbon said. “I am happy to help. It is educational.”
Rice giggled. “Educational? It’s just flowers...”
“Negative. I believe spending time with you lets me feel more like the other Umamusume.” Bourbon thought. “More emotional.”
“O-Oh...” Rice looked away, red in the cheeks. “I don’t know about that. You’re so strong, Bourbon-san... the kind of Umamusume I—”
In the bushes nearby, Daiwa and Vodka were crouched together.
“You’re so strong, Bourbon-san,” Vodka recited. “Jeeze, these two are really—”
“Shhh,” Daiwa hushed. “We’re trying to stay hidden.”
“Is that why we’re sittin’ in the bushes like perverts?”
Daiwa spun around. “What?!” she sputtered in indignation. “We are NOT—”
“You’ve got us crouching here spyin’ on Rice and Bourbon.”
“Because we have to hide, or else Gold Ship will—”
“Yeah but we could just ask them to—”
“To what? Shelter us like strays?”
“Better than being the flower bed perverts.”
“We are NOT—”
“Miss Pervert.”
The branches behind them rustled.
“Daiwa Scarlet. Vodka.” Mihono Bourbon droned.
“Eep!”
“Ack!”
The two jumped and spun around, tails ramrod-straight in surprise.
“We’re not perverts!” Daiwa shouted.
Bourbon tilted her head as she catalogued this information.
“That is good to know,” she said with a nod.
“Nice one, Scarlet.”
“Shut up, Vodka.”
Rice Shower looked up at the commotion.
“...you’re in the bushes. By the flowers. Is it... is it me? D-did I do something?”
Daiwa crouched low, eyes sweeping the hedgeline. “It’s not you. We have simply taken up gardening.”
“Big dirt Umas. Always have been,” Vodka said.
“...H-hweh?”
Bourbon considered them. Then she held out two trowels. “The weeds are in row three.”
Daiwa looked at the trowel, her pristine uniform, and then the dirt.
“We were just about to—” she began.
“Begin helping Rice Shower, yes,” Bourbon finished. Her tone left no room for argument. Not that it usually did.
Bourbon then returned to the flowerbed.
Rice’s eyes shone with happiness. “O-Oh, thank you Daiwa-san and Vodka-san. I really appreciate it!”
“It’s no— ngh,” Vodka groaned, clutching her chest.
“T-Tch,” Daiwa flinched. “Stay strong, Vodka.”
Rice looked at the flowerbed. “I want to make sure the flowers bloom beautifully for all the fans...” She smiled and turned back to them. “So thank you for helping me!”
“I-I can’t,” Vodka wheezed. “Too cute...”
Daiwa’s mouth opened and closed mutely.
Bourbon stared at Rice and pitched forward. “Anomaly. Optical input exceeding intake. Core temperature climbing.”
“...what?” Rice asked.
A thread of blood ran from Bourbon’s nose down to her lip. “Coolant breach. Rerouting. Error. Error.”
“Eep!” Rice was near tears. “The curse. It got Bourbon-san too—”
“Heeere rivals, rivals—” Gold Ship called, approaching. “The Rival Radar detects tension.”
Daiwa and Vodka went stiff as Gold Ship rounded the hedge. Gold Ship grinned as she saw them, then froze at the sight of Bourbon.
“You.” Gold Ship pointed.
Bourbon stared blankly at her.
“You are an obstacle to my complete dominance of Tracen,” Gold Ship said, backing up and holding the radar protectively behind her. “Stay away from the Rival Radar.”
“Mm,” Bourbon said.
“I know what you do to machines. You can’t fool me.”
“Mm.”
“This garden is hostile territory and I am declaring it as such.”
“Mm.”
“I’ll be back,” Gold Ship said as she bounded over the hedge and fled.
“The weeding schedule is Tuesdays and Fridays,” Bourbon recited. She shook her head and wiped her nose. “Reboot complete. All systems operational. Resuming weeding.”
“So it works,” Daiwa whispered. “Gold Ship is scared to bring that thing around Bourbon.”
“We’re just consigned to working the garden for eternity,” Vodka whispered back. “Or at least, shadowing Rice and Bourbon. Like a couple of—”
“We’re not perverts, Vodka!”
Bourbon nodded. “Affirmative. Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka are logged as ‘not perverts.’”
“Don’t log us as—” Daiwa began.
“Correcting. Logging Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka as—”
“Don’t log us as that either!”
“Nice one, Scarlet.”
“Shut UP, Vodka!”
“Make me, Miss Per—”
El rushed into the garden. “Daiwa, Vodka! I need your help!”
Bourbon regarded her. “El Condor Pasa. Are you a pervert?”
“That’s why I’m here!” El cried.
Bourbon frowned and positioned herself between El and Rice Shower.
“No, not like that!” El waved her hands. “I mean about Grass, am I obvious about Grass?”
“Are you— Obvious about— Ahaha!” Vodka burst out laughing. “Aha— Hahaha!” She doubled over, clutching her stomach.
“Snrrk.” A grin cracked through Daiwa’s stern expression. “H-Hehe...” she giggled, a fist over her mouth.
“Haha... haaah,” Vodka inhaled, catching her breath and standing back up. “Thanks, El. We needed that.”
Daiwa, smiling, nodded. “Yeah, we had a rough morning.”
El stared at them blankly.
Vodka squinted. “Wait, were you serious?”
“YES!”
“Huh.”
“Oh. I mean,” Daiwa began. “Maybe a little? But we hang out with you guys pretty often so...”
“Oh no.”
“And you’re still, like, a super cool runner on the turf,” Vodka added.
“But you can tell?” El said into her hands, covering her face.
“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Daiwa reassured her. “I mean, I definitely don’t think you’re a pervert.”
“I don’t think I am either!”
“Well,” Vodka said, rubbing her chin. “There was that thing with the laundry last week.”
“Oh no,” El whimpered.
Daiwa looked at Vodka. “What thing with the laundry?”
“El offered to wash Grass’s laundry in the tub cause the machine was broken,” Vodka explained.
Daiwa frowned. “That just sounds polite. In fact, you could probably learn a thing or two about—”
“Well, El was using the tub at the time.”
Daiwa paused mid-sentence.
El’s ears went flat. “...I just meant her training clothes?”
“Is that supposed to be better?” Vodka asked.
“Isn’t it?!”
Bourbon processed this. “Affirmative. El Condor Pasa, logged as a—”
At the edge of the quad, Teio slurped the last of her honeyade before pitching it at a nearby trashcan. It bounced off the top, circling the rim, before finally going in.
“Hehe, a miracle shot!” she said to herself.
She scanned the courtyard, making sure she’d lost McQueen, before furtively approaching the folding table at the far end where Gold Ship was playing with a Rubik’s cube.
The Rival Radar sat ominously on the sign-up sheet next to a sign that said “LUNCH. BACK AT 1. — JORDAN”
“Golshi, how far does it reach?” Teio asked.
Gold Ship didn’t look up from her Rubik’s cube. “Well well well. Something you wanna find out?”
“No. Yes. Maybe,” Teio shifted on her feet.
“Something about McQueen?” Gold Ship looked up, grinning.
“No. Hypothetical.” Teio glanced left. Glanced right. “I just want to know if it can tell old from new.”
“Old from new what?”
“Tension. Rival tension. Say, someone had a rival in a race—”
“Like the Tenno Sho Spring—”
“Like the Tenno Sho Spring. And the next year she had a different rival—”
“Who beat her—”
“—who beat her—”
“By two lengths?”
“By two lengths,” Teio confirmed. “And, like, her first rival didn’t come that close—”
“Ten lengths back, right?” Gold Ship asked.
“Nine point seven-five,” Teio corrected.
“Right.”
“So like,” Teio tapped her fingers together. “Can it detect if there’s any tension between her and her new maybe-rival?”
Gold Ship leaned back and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You wanna know if Mac ’n Rice got a thing without ya. Heh, Mac ’n Rice sounds like a—”
“Yes!” Teio said, jumping. “I need to know.”
“Hmm,” Gold Ship nodded. “I think I can help ya. But,” she slid the paper over toward Teio. “You gotta do something for me, first.”
“Yaki- Yaki- Yaki-so-ba...”
Teio sang with a flat expression. She wore a tiny rendition of Gold Ship’s hat.
“When I get a taste of that yak-i-soba...”
“Good, good!” Gold Ship clapped. “Smile more. It’s all about PRES-EN-TATION.”
“Yeah, great work, Teio,” Jordan said, not looking up.
“Teio’ll make the perfect mascot for the franchise,” Gold Ship said.
“What’re you calling it, anyway?” Jordan asked.
“Golshi’s Street Meat,” Gold Ship said, underlining the air with a hand. “Pork’s the specialty.”
“You are not calling it that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“I thought you’re the mascot,” Teio whined.
Gold Ship shook her head and put on sunglasses. “Was. I got promoted.”
“At your own yakisoba stand?” Jordan asked.
“Yup. Golshi’s the CEO now.”
“Guys, guys!” El came running into the courtyard, looking around frantically, and screeched to a halt before the table. “I’m not a pervert!”
Jordan blinked. “...Great? Keep us updated on that, El.”
“Not like that! I just mean—” El’s eyes landed on Teio. “Tell me I’m not obvious about Grass.”
Teio looked up at her with the tired expression of someone who’d spent the past hour practicing yakisoba jingles for Gold Ship.
“El,” Teio began. “Every time we go out to karaoke, you ask for the grass-flavored jelly drink, and I think we both know what you really mean by grass-flav—”
“OK! OK!” El backed away and put her head in her hands. “I’m tappin’ out...”
Teio pulled off the tiny hat and tossed it back to Gold Ship. “There. We rehearsed. I’ll do your Street Meat—”
El gaped. “Her what—”
“—jingles at the fan fest. Now gimmie the radar so I can aim it at McQueen and Rice.”
Gold Ship considered her for a long moment.
“So you’re gonna run at McQueen with it. Like, you're gonna be holding it?”
“Yes.”
“Because you wanna know if Mac ’n Rice have a thing.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re, like, sure—”
“YES!”
Gold Ship nodded and slid the radar across the table. “Good luck!”
Teio scooped it up. “Hehe, McQueen won’t know what hit her,” she said, radiant, and jogged away.
El watched her go. “So she’s just...”
“Marching herself to the gallows, yeah,” Gold Ship said.
“This is going to be the best fan fest ever!” Spe was looking at the utterly illegible instructions provided by the student council. “Twelve yakisoba stands? Who knew the President likes noodles so much?”
“Um, Spe-chan, I don’t think...” Suzuka peered at the documents, which had, in bright red ink, GOLSHI’S STREET MEAT written in several places on the cloudy grey smear that was supposed to be the festival booth map.
“Yeah, Suzuka?”
“...Never mind,” Suzuka said, deciding a Gold Ship focused on yakisoba franchising was a Gold Ship not focused on using the radar on Spe.
The two walked around the courtyard that was becoming a buzzing hub of booths, decorations, and Umamusume helping set everything up.
Or, should have been.
Half the booths and decorations had still yet to be set up. The Umamusume who were there were glancing around, whispering amongst themselves.
“—have you heard—”
“—the Rival Radar—”
“—gotta work Golshi’s Street Meat for protection—”
“—work her WHAT—?!”
“—it’s her stupid yakisoba stand—”
“—I think technically it’s a franchise now—”
“—is that supposed to be better?!—”
“Special Week,” McQueen said as she approached with a frown. “The preparations are going quite slowly.”
“Why? Everyone’s usually so motivated! And the student council gave us great instructions,” Spe said, waving the papers.
McQueen stared at the bog of ink that resembled a morning at Longchamp.
“Quite. But it seems everyone’s afraid of the rumor about Gold Ship’s Rival Radar.”
“No way, that was just a joke!” Spe said. “You know how Golshi— Oh, hey, lemme help you!”
Spe, seeing a student struggling to lift some heavy equipment, darted off to assist.
Suzuka watched her go. “Spe-chan is so strong, isn’t she?”
“Suzuka,” McQueen said.
“She grew up on a farm... she was telling me about it.”
“Suzuka.”
“...I wonder if someday I’ll get to visit her—”
“Suzuka. Rival Radar. Problem. We must do something about it.”
Suzuka looked back to McQueen. “Um... yes. But I can’t help...”
McQueen looked at her, incredulous. “Why not? You know if this rumor spreads, preparations will grind to a halt—”
“I don't want to leave her alone. Spe-chan—”
“Will be devastated if the fan fest the student council entrusted her to prepare falls through. As a Mejiro, I will not allow that to happen because of Gold Ship. Will you?”
Suzuka watched Spe flit between groups of Umamusume in the courtyard with an earnest smile, helping their preparations however she could.
“...I’ll help.”
McQueen nodded. “Good. Scarlet and Vodka should be in the gardens. Bring them to the main hall. Gold Ship won’t be able to resist their—” she searched for the right word. “—dynamic.”
She turned to observe the fearful Umamusume scattered around the courtyard, which had the atmosphere of a refugee camp.
“I’ll lure her in. Then, we strike. We created this monster, and so shall Team Spica see it stopped.”
McQueen, Daiwa, and Vodka stood in the main hall, staring at the door knowing what was about to come through could spell the end for them.
“Scarlet, no matter what happens. I just want you to know...”
“Don’t get sappy on me, Vodka. I can’t stand it when you—”
“You’ll always be my—”
“You’re my number—”
McQueen politely coughed. Daiwa and Vodka jumped back like they’d been electrocuted.
“—irritating roommate,” Vodka finished.
“—number one dummy,” Daiwa said, turning away.
The door creaked open.
Gold Ship walked in.
SLAM. Click. Click. Click.
The door shut and locked behind her. Gold Ship turned around in amusement.
“Hm. That was Suzuka, I assume. Locking yourselves in here with me? Bold plan, McQueen.”
“We have indulged this long enough, Gold Ship,” McQueen said sternly, stepping forward. “I will not permit you to press half the school into working your— your noodle stand—”
“Her Street Meat,” Vodka supplied.
“Her WHAT?!” Daiwa shrieked.
“Golshi’s Street Meat,” Vodka said proudly. “I helped her come up with the name.”
Gold Ship nodded. “She did. Yakisoba with pork is the specialty.”
Daiwa looked at Vodka.
“That is an AWFUL name—”
“What would YOU have called it—”
“Something that doesn’t sound like a—”
“I must insist you surrender the radar,” McQueen said. “You are outnumbered, and out of exits.”
Gold Ship examined the situation. A front runner, a pace chaser, a late closer. Each of the three was faster in short-distance than she was.
“You understand your position,” McQueen said. “There is no dignified way out of this room.”
“Hah! Golshi doesn’t HAVE dignity—”
“I am aware.”
“—but it seems ya got me,” Gold Ship said, clapping her hands. “Except, you overlooked one thing, Mac. I don’t have the radar anymore.”
“What.”
“She does.”
McQueen turned and saw Teio standing at the top of the stairs.
Holding the Rival Radar.
“T-Teio?! What’s the meaning of this!”
“Sorry, McQueen,” Teio said, holding it up. “But I gotta know. You and Rice Shower—”
“Have nothing!”
“Then you’ve got nothing to hide!”
McQueen took a step backwards. “I will not be subjected to that thing while you’re holding it.”
Teio’s ears twitched. “Why not?”
“Because you— because we—”
“Use your words, Mac,” Gold Ship called.
“Gold Ship,” McQueen hissed.
Teio began walking down the stairs and Vodka and Daiwa began backing away.
“Hold the line,” McQueen urged. “Hold the—”
“Sorry, McQueen,” Vodka said, not taking her eyes off the device in Teio’s hand. “But I’m not lettin’ that get near me ’n Scarlet.”
“Yeah, sorry McQueen-senpai,” Daiwa said, also backing away. “We are going to help weed the garden. Again.”
That was all the discussion Daiwa and Vodka needed. They dashed off, leaving McQueen alone.
McQueen shuffled back nervously as Teio approached her.
Gold Ship watched on, smiling. “Good, Teio, good. Feel the power.”
“I’m sorry, McQueen,” Teio shrugged. “But I gotta know.”
“Teio. There is nothing between myself and Rice Shower. You are my rival. My exclusive rival. The only one I think of and the only runner whose tapes I study.”
Teio paused. “Really? You study my tapes?” she beamed.
“Really.”
Teio lowered the Rival Radar. “And just mine. Not Rice Shower’s?”
“Not Rice Shower’s. Studying hers would require I still kept them.”
“McQueen, I—” Teio faltered. “Wait ...still?”
McQueen’s ears flicked. “That was a poor choice of words.”
Gold Ship wished she had popcorn.
“Special Week, the set-up looks excellent. You have done an outstanding job,” Symboli Rudolf said.
Spe kicked the ground bashfully. Her uniform was dirtied and she was exhausted, but the courtyard had transformed. Stalls set, decorations hung, and everything in place for the fan fest, a day’s work done in a few hours.
Suzuka looked on with a smile. “Spe-chan is someone we can all admire.”
“S-Suzuka-san...” Spe’s cheeks went pink and she looked down.
“And Air Groove tells me the garden is in the best condition it’s ever been,” Rudolf said, turning to Rice and Bourbon. “You have the student council’s thanks for your hard work.”
“O-Oh, thank you!” Rice said, shying away behind her hair. “B-But it wasn’t just us. Vodka-san and Scarlet-san helped out too...”
“Affirmative. And they are not perverts,” Bourbon added.
Rudolf processed this. “That is... good to know?”
“Yes.”
Rudolf met Bourbon’s expressionless gaze, waiting for more to come. More did not come.
“Then,” Rudolf continued, looking at the festival map and squinting. “I just have to ask, why do we have so many booths labeled GOLSHI’S STREET M—”
BANG
The doors to the main hall flew outward as Mejiro McQueen stumbled backwards from them and into the courtyard.
The Umamusume around gasped as they saw Teio emerge with the Rival Radar, Gold Ship stepping behind her. Fearful whispers spread amongst the crowd.
“T-Teio, stay back!” McQueen said. “I must insist! You don’t know what it’ll do if you bring it near me!”
Teio scanned the crowd, ears flicking as she saw Rice Shower standing back behind McQueen.
“Then why are you running, McQueen?!”
“Because— Because you’re my—”
The whole courtyard was watching.
They both froze as they saw Rudolf approaching them.
“Prez!”
“President!”
“Tokai Teio. Mejiro McQueen.” Rudolf smiled warmly. “You two seem excitable today. I must ask that you—”
“—sorry, Prez, I just wanted—”
“—deepest apologies, I merely—”
“—take a deep breath,” Rudolf continued. “Nervousness for the fan fest is to be expected, but I would have you see it as an opportunity.”
“What?” they said, simultaneously.
“I understand that, as two of the finest runners of the year, you will no doubt be the center of much attention,” Rudolf said. “I presume that’s the cause of your current nerves.”
Teio and McQueen exchanged a look.
“But the fan fest is about more than any one of us. Those who watch us are inspired to dream, and they entrust those dreams to us, a great river of devotion flowing from every season into this one,” Rudolf continued.
The whispering stopped. Even Gold Ship had gone quiet.
“We cannot repay that with victories alone. We repay it by giving them a day worthy of a world where every Umamusume can run in bliss. That is what this festival is for.”
They were speechless. Special Week was crying, Suzuka patting her shoulder. Gold Ship looked abashed.
Teio lowered the Rival Radar. She and McQueen nodded at each other.
“Right, Prez. Sorry, we just—”
“President,” a voice cut in. Air Groove entered the courtyard. “The council has secured permits for every one of the yakisoba stands that your instructions called for.”
“Every one?” Gold Ship perked up. “There were a dozen.”
“Hmph. The Empress does not do things by halves.”
“I thought that was your writing, Air Groove?” Rudolf turned toward her and smiled. “No matter. I appreciate your efforts.”
Air Groove looked away. “I merely do my duty, President. ...I did not do it for thanks.”
“You go far beyond that. I truly couldn’t do it without you by my—”
BEEP.
A gasp swept through the crowd.
Rudolf blinked in confusion.
Teio looked down at the device in her hand in horror.
Gold Ship’s ears perked up. She grinned.
“Buddy, you just got the Emperor.”
The courtyard had descended into anarchy.
Teio had flung the radar away in horror and the crowd scattered from where it landed.
It’d taken Rudolf mere seconds to piece together the words “rivals” and “romantic tension” and she’d vanished along with Air Groove.
Gold Ship scooped the Rival Radar up and held it aloft. “No one is safe. Tracen is mine! You are ALL conscripted as employees of Golshi’s Street Meat!”
“Golshi, please,” Jordan drawled. “Stop calling it that.”
“Can’t. Air Groove got the permits. It’s legally binding now.”
Gold Ship looked around the courtyard. Many Umamusume had yielded to the inevitable, surrendering themselves to go stand in line by the sign-up sheet.
Two were conspicuously absent.
“Time to go find where McQueen’s hidin’,” Gold Ship said. “Can’t have my number one employee missing.”
“So, McQueen... what were you gonna say?” Teio whispered.
The two of them were hiding in a closet.
“What?”
“In the courtyard, you were gonna say I’m your—”
“I was going to say you’re my rival. Not Rice Shower.”
“...Promise?”
“Yes, Teio. And you shouldn’t need a toy from Gold Ship to know that.”
“But... then, why were you running from it all day?”
“Because you were by it.”
“What does that— Oh. Ohhhh... But, we’re just, like. Rivals. With nothing to hide.”
“Yes.”
“So we shoulda just kept actin’ normal, ’cause the second we hide it looks like—”
“Yes.”
“—like there’s somethin’ to—”
“Yes.”
“—and there’s not, so—”
“Tokai Teio.”
“Yes.”
“You are telling me.”
“I know.”
“You understand what you are doing.”
“I know!” Teio’s ears were twitching.
They fell silent.
Teio’s face felt very warm. Her tail was wagging.
“Pfft— Pfft— Teio, your tail is in my—” McQueen whispered.
“It’s a closet, McQueen, it’s not meant to hold two Umamusume.”
“It’s not meant to hold any Umamusume.”
“Here, lemme—” Teio braced a hand against McQueen’s back as she shifted around. McQueen went very still.
“...Teio.”
“Yeah?”
“That is not my back.”
“...oop—” THUNK.
Teio flinched back and hit the shelves.
“Teio, be still.”
Both of them went stiff at the sound of footsteps in the corridor.
“If it gets us,” McQueen said, “I want you to know that, besides rivals, you... I consider you my—”
“McQueen, you don’t have to—”
“I must. This could be the end—”
The door opened. Light fell across two crouched Umamusume and a mop.
Gold Ship stood grinning. “There ya are. Time to come out.”
Gold Ship marched McQueen back to the sign-up table at the courtyard like a prisoner escort. Teio bounced beside them, trying to cheer her up.
“Really, it won’t be that bad, McQueen. We can work together! I’m stuck doin’ the jingles for Golshi’s Street M—”
“Tokai Teio.”
“Yeah?”
“Please do not utter the words Golshi’s Street Meat ever again.”
“Okay!” Teio nodded. “But you just said—”
McQueen sighed. “The indignity of it all...”
“That’s the spirit,” Gold Ship said. “You’re becoming part of a bigger cause.”
McQueen stood in front of the sign-up sheet. Gold Ship thrust a pen into her hands. She looked down at the paper, already containing the signatures of a dozen other Umamusume who’d been roped into it.
She placed the point of the pen on the line underneath the last entry which read El Condor Pasa.
Gold Ship patted her shoulder. “Sign on the dotted line, McQueen.” She held the Rival Radar in her other hand, waving it so McQueen could see.
McQueen gritted her teeth, and began to sign.
“Yahhh!” A voice suddenly shouted. A red blur sped across the courtyard, snatching the Rival Radar out of Gold Ship’s hand.
“W-What? An Umamusume?” Gold Ship sputtered as she looked over to see a familiar red jacket and luchador mask. “El Condor Pasa the Umamusume?!”
“El!” Teio cheered.
“¡Sí!” El shouted, holding the Rival Radar aloft. “The masked warrior! The wind off the Andes! El Condor Pasa comes to free Tracen from your schemes, Golshi!”
“It’s treason, then.” Gold Ship cocked an eyebrow. “You realize just by holding that you risk—”
“El Condor Pasa cares not if it beeps!” she declared. “Every secret of El Condor Pasa is already known to the world! I’ve got nothin’ left to lose!”
She turned and hurled the Rival Radar into the fountain. It bounced off the stone siding and splashed into the water, sinking to the bottom.
El nodded grimly. “It is done.”
McQueen breathed a sigh of relief and turned toward Gold Ship. “Your radar is no more. You have nothing left to—”
Gold Ship burst out laughing. “Hahaha! Hee, hoo.” she wiped a tear from her eye.
“—what...” McQueen said. “There was no radar, was there.”
“Nope!” Gold Ship said, breathless between laughs. “It was just a timer that randomly makes noise!”
Teio smiled. “Okay, that’s kind of a good one. You had everyone running away, thinking it’d expose our...” Teio glanced at McQueen. “Um, our...”
“Please stop talking,” McQueen said.
“M’kay!”
McQueen turned back to Gold Ship, who was still laughing hysterically.
“Gold Ship.”
“Y- Haha... Yeah, Mac— hey, OW!”
McQueen grabbed Gold Ship by the tail and was dragging her across the courtyard.
“Ow, ow, c’mon Mac it was a prank—”
“You will absolve everyone of their contracts—”
“C’mon leggo Mac—”
They passed the fountain.
Beneath the water, there was a muffled sound.
BEEP.
McQueen froze. “No...”
“What?” Gold Ship asked. She looked at the fountain. “Hey, it’s random, I told ya—”
BEEP.
“No way...” Teio’s face split into a grin.
“The plot thickens,” El whispered, eyes wide behind her mask.
Gold Ship looked around. “Hey, Golshi SAID it was RANDOM—”
BEEP.
Daiwa and Vodka knelt in the dirt, their uniforms dirty from a day in the flowerbeds.
“I’m number one at weed-pulling!”
“You’re pullin’ those up wrong.”
“I am pulling them up correctly.”
“That’s a flower.”
“It is a weed—”
“I saw Rice plant that one.”
Daiwa stopped. She patted the soil back down around it, very carefully.
One bed over, Rice watered a row of flowers, as Bourbon helped her carry the full watering cans around.
“Rice Shower. I have a question.”
“O-Oh, what is it, Bourbon-san?”
“Gold Ship’s device was inert,” Bourbon recited. “However, everyone feared it. Why?”
Rice sat the watering can down. She looked at Daiwa and Vodka, who were still arguing while kneeling right next to each other in the dirt.
“I think... um.” Rice’s hands played with the hem of her skirt. “It’s scary to be honest. About how you feel. You could get hurt. So it’s... easier to make it a race instead. A rivalry.” She glanced at Daiwa and Vodka. “...Then you don’t have to say the hard part.”
Bourbon thought about this.
“I will log this for emotional accuracy,” she said. “However, I still have insufficient data to fully understand.”
“Um. Maybe...” Rice trailed off, her cheeks going pink. “It’s like how you’re not just a rival to me,” she whispered. Rice turned and looked at Bourbon. “You’re really special to me, Bourbon-san!”
Bourbon blinked.
Then, she pitched forward.
“Error. Emotion overflow. The ‘rival’ parameter is—”
“BOURBON-SAN!”
That night, the fan fest was in full swing. Lanterns up, banners, and long lines at every one of the fully-staffed stands for Golshi’s Street Meat.
Special Week looked over all of it, eyes shining.
“...You did a good job, Spe-chan,” Suzuka said, smiling.
“I knew the President’s plan would come together,” Spe said. “Twelve yakisoba stands. It's so bold!”
Beside them, Symboli Rudolf nodded, looking at twelve yakisoba stands she had not authorized.
“Quite,” Rudolf said. “Precisely to my plan. And the Umamusume seemed so enthusiastic to volunteer for them. I suppose as a way to meat the fans.”
Spe and Suzuka nodded. Somewhere, Air Groove's mood plummeted.
Down in the nearest stand, Jordan stood at the register, taking orders.
Gold Ship swept past with a tray. “Lookin’ sharp, Jordan.”
“I still never got my yakisoba,” Jordan said, not looking up. “Dummy.”
“It’s actually not bad,” Seiun said, sitting at the counter with a plate. “Despite the awful name.”
“Terrible name,” Jordan agreed.
Gold Ship gasped in mock offense. “What’s wrong with Golshi’s Street M—”
“You know what," they said at the same time.
“Sky!” El said, running up. “I gotta question for ya.”
“El,” Seiun said. “You’re my friend. But if this is about Grass, I’m going to throw your mask in the fountain.”
“Actually,” El said as she sat in a chair next to Seiun. “It’s about Flower.”
Seiun stiffened. “...what about her.”
El grinned beneath her mask. “I couldn’t help but notice at lunch today ya—”
“Nope.”
“—seemed to—”
“Nope. Conversation’s over. Bye!”
Seiun dashed off in a blur.
“...Huh. So that works,” El said, sliding over into Seiun’s seat and looking at the abandoned plate. “Free yakisoba!” She looked up at Jordan. “So do ya have any grass-flavored—”
“El. C’mon.”
El sighed.
At the other end of the fan fest, Teio and McQueen sat on the hillside, sharing a container of yakisoba. Teio had gotten out of her mascot contract.
“It’s actually... not that bad,” McQueen said. “Despite the awful name.”
“Terrible!” Teio agreed. “Um... McQueen?”
“Yes?”
“Sorry. About, ya know. Thinking you had a rivalry with Rice Shower...”
“It’s quite all right, Teio,” McQueen said, turning to her with a smile. “I’ve raced many Umamusume. But you are the only one I call my rival.”
“Hehe, yeah,” Teio laughed. “I guess it’d be like you asking about me ’n Natie.”
McQueen's fork paused midway to her mouth.
“What about you and Nice Nature?”
“Just, ya know, you and I only raced once but me ’n Natie raced each other a BUNCH! The Wakakoma—”
“Teio.”
“—the Tenno—”
“Teio.”
“—the Arima—”
“Tokai Teio.”
“Yeah?”
Teio looked at McQueen.
“Oops?”