Chapter Text
What was the point..? Win Variation stared into the shattered mirror, then at her fist. It stung like hell. Blood flowed out like crimson rivulets, shards scattered in her skin. Her reflection didn’t show the second place runner who had graciously accepted her shortcomings, who congratulated the winner, who seemed as though she understood. It showed a girl— tired of her shortcomings, filled with utter and inexplicable rage. Tears beaded at the corners of her emerald eyes, but as hard as she tried to will them back, they flowed anyway.
“Another race… I’ll get her in another race..!”
Win Variation tried to comfort herself, but it was no use. There was no other race. This was it. That arrogant asshole’s retirement race…
Win Variation splashed water on her face haphazardly, trying to collect herself. She tried taking deep breaths, thinking about literally anything else but there was still a faint tremor in her shoulders and… she couldn’t get Orfevre’s stupid, smug face out of her head…
She opened the door of her dressing room as little as possible, trying not to draw attention to herself. She wandered around aimlessly, spotting other umas who had also competed in the race chatting, and even laughing. Some were also leaving, but not all.
Curren Mirotic, Danon Ballad and Nakayama Knight…
To name a few.
Win Variation’s ears perked up, she could hear someone approaching from behind— and very quickly. The sound of shoes only got louder as they came closer. Every instinct in her body told her to run but she kept walking at her pace. The person behind her skidded to a stop, inches away from barreling into her.
“Oi, oi! Don’t tell me you’re so gloomy you didn’t even think to run!”
That awfully recognizable voice…
“Gold Ship…” Win Variation sighed, turning around.
“Now isn’t the time.” She spoke, glaring at Gold Ship’s goofy grin.
“You gotta be kidding me! I placed worse than you and even I’m not this sulky. Cheer up a bit, geesh Louise.” Gold Ship responded, suddenly sounding much more serious. Gold Ship put her hands on Win Variation’s shoulders, staring into her eyes earnestly. “You gotta live in the present, applebrain. Do you really wanna be like those grandpas and grandmas who always say ‘Back in my day, we would’ve gotten one hard whooping for talking back!’ It’s not back in their day anymore, so stop living in the past, in every race where Orfevre beat you and start living in the present.”
Win Variation paused for a minute, she didn’t expect Gold Ship, of all people, to be so serious.
“Also, why are you still in your race wear?” The white-haired uma asked, stepping back.
Win Variation laughed, although it was out of disbelief.
“You really wanna change the topic like that?”
Gold Ship shrugged it off. “I don’t like sitting with emotions. Now answer my question!”
Shion sighed, playing with the bandages on her fingers. “I’m waiting for my trainer.” She said coolly, although she knew it was a lie. She’d spoken to him before storming off into the dressing room.
“Mhm…” Gold Ship mumbled, although it didn’t seem like she believed her too much.
The cheering, laughing and applauding from the stands all felt disconnected. Win Variation was there but… also not there.
She knew the roar from the crowd was probably deafening, Orfevre’s trainer’s speech was probably emotional, maybe long, that was the kind of person he was, but it never reached her.
Instead…
She could see the homestretch before her. How Orfevre broke through the pack leaders, how each stride of hers consumed the drag… how her own strides brought her forward too, but not close enough.
She saw herself breaking out of the pack, the space around her was clear, she watched Orfevre pull ahead, just ahead of her reach. How energetic the announcer sounded…
Maybe, just maybe… if she pushed herself a little harder, if she chased a bit earlier… could she have gotten closer?
Orfevre was like a dream when you woke up.
She was right there but… not there at all. Slipping just out of your grasp, like sand between your fingers…
But a voice cut through her thoughts—
“Shion, it’s the final farewells. You’re not gonna say anything?” Gold Ship asked, standing right in front of her.
“I… don’t have anything to say..” She responded, looking away.
What was there to say? Tell Orfevre exactly how much she hates her but doesn’t want her to retire either? Tell her how much time she’d wasted chasing after someone she’d never catch up to?
But she never said any of those words. Instead, she found herself walking towards Orfevre, as she was signing some fan’s autograph. Win Variation tapped her on the shoulder before giving her a polite smile. The same polite smile she’d give when she was beaten again, when she spoke to Orfevre or when she was listening to someone tell her there would always be a next time… but now there wasn’t.
“Orfevre-san… you were great out there. You’ve had an amazing career.” She said, giving her a polite half-nod.
Orfevre stared at Win Variation for a moment, almost as if she was dissecting her very existence.
“Thank you…” she started. “You were a… worthy opponent.” She stated, staring at her for a moment longer before turning away.
Win Variation just stared at her, watching as she spoke to another fan.
Is that… all I am to her? Another opponent? Another runner whose dreams she could just… crush?
Win Variation watched. She watched as Orfevre bent down to speak to a child. As she spoke… warmer than she’d ever heard her speak to a sick fan.
Why couldn’t she ever spare even a fraction of that warmth for any of her friends?
I… I hate you Orfevre. I hate your smug grin, I hate your stupid victories. I hate how you act as if the Triple Crown was yours to take, even if you had to rip it from someone else’s hands. And I hate how you were right. I hate how you act as if every G1 you run is yours to win. I hate how you smile. I hate your stupid face. I hate how arrogant you are. If you weren’t retiring… I’d tell you to mark my words. You may have won the battle, but I’ll wage a fucking war. Even if I can’t beat you in racing… I’ll beat you in everything else. Academics, you name it and I win it.
Win Variation turned away, walking towards the exit. She shouldered her way through the crowds, looking at the ground. I hate her…
She thought to herself. Dark spots freckled on her dress, she glanced up. Shit… it was overcast.
Win Variation sped up, trying her best not to get caught in the downpour.
“Shion!”
She could hear Orfevre calling her name but she continued on, not stopping or turning back.
That tyrant can get drenched for all I care.