"Love?" Kousei hadn't expected that answer.
"Whether it's a dream or pride, it all stems from love in the end. People call the Twinkle Series a journey of dreams, but the reality is far crueler than anyone imagines. When I was little, my mother told me that becoming an Umamusume was like dancing on a knife's edge.
The threats don't just come from rival Umamusume; there are other factors too. Because of my running style, many people dislike me and don't want me to win. So I understand what Kousei must have felt back then. Yet even knowing this, I still chose to stay.
Even if I knew what the future held, I would keep running. I love running, I love racing toward the future with my best rivals—I'm sure Teio and McQueen feel the same way. Even if it was just for a moment, I truly heard someone cheering for Rice Shower."
A fleeting blue flame flickered in Rice Shower's exposed eyes. "I will never give up. I am Rice Shower, the Umamusume."
Passion is the greatest talent.
Under the sweltering summer sun, blue roses bloomed in full splendor.
So that's it. Self-confidence is merely a byproduct of passion, something even McQueen and the others are striving for.
With newfound clarity, a brilliant realization dawned, making Kousei feel she could push herself just a little further.
"Alright! Let's get back to training!"
"Huh?! But it's almost curfew!"
Without realizing it, they had been talking for far too long.
After changing back into her school uniform, Kousei's thoughts lingered on McQueen as she walked back to the dormitory. She spotted McQueen sitting gracefully on a bench, residual sweat on her brow indicating she had just finished training as well.
"Good evening, McQueen."
"Good evening, Kousei. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Indeed, it had been a while. They used to walk together often, but now, with the Hopeful Stakes approaching and both determined to outdo the other, they were focused on their own intensive training. Teio, preparing for the Kikuka Sho, had also become a rare sight.
Their meeting today was truly a stroke of luck. Sitting beside McQueen, Kousei felt a surprising sense of novelty.
"The race is almost here," Kousei said. "How's your preparation going?"
"Very well," McQueen replied with a faint smile. "You'll see on race day."
McQueen handed Kousei a small bottle.
"What's this?" Kousei asked.
"It's for relieving muscle fatigue after training," McQueen explained. "Just pour some on your hand and massage it into any tired areas. I wouldn't want anyone saying I won because you weren't in top condition."
So that's McQueen's way of showing concern, Kousei thought.
"Thank you," she said.
Kousei had been troubled by something lately, and perhaps this was her chance to ask McQueen about it. As if sensing her thoughts, McQueen immediately stood up.
"If you have anything to say, let's talk after the race," she said.
Without giving Kousei a chance to speak, McQueen's figure gradually disappeared from sight. Kousei sighed heavily, tilting her head back as if trying to exhale all the pent-up frustration from her chest in one breath.
Lost in thought, Kousei returned to her dormitory, only to be stopped at the entrance by Fuji Kiseki.
"Little Kousei, you have a package."
Kousei was puzzled; she wasn't expecting any deliveries. Checking the address, she realized it was from her mother.
"You seem troubled," Fuji Kiseki said. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen."
"It's nothing," Kousei replied. "A good night's sleep will fix it."
Fuji Kiseki had always been kind and concerned, but Kousei didn't want to burden her with personal issues. As the Dorm Leader, Fuji Kiseki had important responsibilities, and Kousei would feel guilty taking up her time for something so trivial.
"Alright," Fuji Kiseki said. "If you change your mind, you can always come back. I'll perform some cute magic to cheer you up!"
Though she declined Fuji Kiseki's offer, the genuine kindness still managed to lighten the gloom in Kousei's heart.
Back in her room, Kousei hadn't even had time to open the package when her phone rang.
"Kousei! My precious daughter! Do you miss your daddy?"
The moment she answered, her father's unmistakable voice boomed through the line.
"Hmm, Dad's still as energetic as ever," Kousei thought, surprised that her father still had the right to answer the phone.
"Your father's always been full of energy, you know! Especially when I see you running, Kousei, I can't help but think, 'She's truly my daughter!'"
"Move aside, you old flatterer!" The father's praise was abruptly cut short, replaced by her mother's gentle voice.
"Kousei, did you receive the package?"
"Yes, but I haven't opened it yet. Is it anything urgent?"
"If you haven't opened it, just set it aside for now. Why don't you chat with me for a bit?"
"Okay."
Kousei and her mother exchanged casual words. Since Kousei rarely shared her own stories, her mother did most of the talking, sharing anecdotes about daily life—the fishmonger's latest drunken stupor, the elderly shopkeeper's worsening leg pain.
Her mother was so outgoing and full of life that Kousei sometimes wondered if she had inherited none of her mother's spirited nature.
Speaking of which, perhaps she should ask her mother about McQueen.
"Mother, please listen to me!" Kousei decided to ask her mother for advice.
"Of course! Listening to your growing pains is part of being a parent."
Kousei paused for a moment, then decided to start with a question: "During your prime, did you get along well with those geniuses?"
"Absolutely! Don't underestimate your mother. I was quite the heartthrob in my youth—ehehe!"
"Heartthrob... Does that mean you were just a supporting character?"
A brief silence followed on the other end of the line. "Sometimes you have a way of unintentionally twisting the knife, don't you?"
Not quite understanding, Kousei took it as a compliment.
"Let's say... just hypothetically. If one of your genius friends had a fragile ego, and you needed to say something important to her, how would you approach it?"
After an even longer silence, her mother said, "This is about McQueen, isn't it?"
"How did you know?"
"We're mother and daughter—of course I'd know! Besides, I went through something similar myself back in my day."
It seemed mother and daughter shared more similarities in their experiences than Kousei had realized.
"So, how did you handle it back then, Mom?"
"Mom didn't solve it, sweetie. Don't worry too much. The best thing for you is to keep running. Convey your answer through your running—that's Kousei's strength."
"Does that mean I don't need to say anything?"
"Kousei should do whatever feels right. If they're true friends, they'll understand you even if your words come out clumsy or inarticulate."
Kousei hung up, her mother's advice stirring a solution within her. Suddenly remembering the unopened package from her mother, she eagerly tore it open.
Inside lay a brand-new pair of running shoes, with a small card attached. The card featured cute, chibi-style drawings of her parents, accompanied by a bold, encouraging "Good luck!"
A warmth spread through Kousei's chest, and her eyes grew slightly misty.
"You should have told me this earlier."