Hachiman's POV
A few days have passed since Sensei's story, and things have changed—not just for us, but especially for Air Groove and the others. Their self-awareness has sharpened. Before, during, and after training, they report every little physical change. Air Groove even apologized for hiding a past fever. I don't care about that now, but she insisted on apologizing, saying she hadn't done it properly before. Stubborn as ever.
Let's talk plans. Air Groove's prepping for the Arima Kinen, her first long-distance race. Stamina's the concern, but after her Japan Cup performance, I'm not worried. Her speed's top-notch, and she's in peak form. One issue, though—physical fatigue. Even someone as strong as her needs a break to recharge.
Next, Fuji. The Asahi Hai Futurity Stakes is in two weeks, and I see no red flags. It depends on the other Uma Musume, but her flashy debut win and clean Momiji Stakes victory—despite the shorter distance—prove she's ready. It's her first G1, but I trust Fuji. We picked the mile for this, though she's trained to handle the 2000m Hopeful Stakes. Waiting too long between races isn't ideal, so Asahi Hai it is.
Not bad, right? Training's going smoothly, and life feels pretty fulfilling, even with the occasional trouble. Today's a rest day, so I'm free. Figured I'd head to the clubroom to check on supplies—perfect timing.
"…Huh? It's open?" I muttered.
Did I forget to lock the clubroom? I could've sworn I did yesterday…
"…! Air Groove, what's up? Here for extra training?" I asked.
Air Groove: "…"
"…What's with that box…!?" I froze.
A cardboard box sat in front of her. The moment I saw it, one thought hit me: She found it.
Air Groove: "…Hachiman."
"Uh… yeah?" I stammered. "So, you got fan letters, huh? You could've told me, and I'd—"
"Don't dodge it," she cut in.
"…Right," I sighed.
"I looked at some of these," she said, holding up a letter. "Hachiman, I know this is part of a trainer's job. But tell me—how many of these have you gotten?"
The letter wasn't fan mail—it was hate mail. Not for her, but for me.
"Quit being a trainer!!!"
"…Yeah," I admitted. "I filter them before they reach you. If stuff like this got to you, it'd be a mess… or so I thought."
Air Groove: "…"
"I'm sorry for hiding it," I said.
"No," she said. "If you say it's part of the job, that's that. I'm at fault for not noticing. But if you're sorry, grant me one wish."
"What's that?" I asked.
"…If there are more, let me see them," she said.
"! Are you serious?" I snapped. "Do you know what you're asking?"
"I do," she said. "I can't let you carry this alone."
"…"
What do I do? Air Groove's in top form—disrupting that rhythm could be bad. But refusing her might break her trust…
Air Groove: "Hachiman…" She grabbed my hand.
"!"
"…Please," she said.
"…Give me a sec," I muttered.
I went to my desk, opened the bottom drawer, and unlocked the safe inside. I pulled out a bundle of letters tied with a rubber band.
"Listen," I said, handing them over. "If you feel sick, stop reading. These are aimed at me. You don't need to get hurt over this."
"…Understood," she said.
Air Groove took the bundle, sat down, and began unsealing them. I couldn't leave her alone with this, so I stayed, sorting her fan letters nearby.
Several Minutes Later
"…Phew," I exhaled, finishing my sorting.
Air Groove…!?
Air Groove: "…" Tear
"Oi, Air Groove!!" I shouted, snatching the letters from her.
"I told you to stop if it got bad!" I said. "You're crying—do you even realize that!?"
"…I was crying?" she murmured. "Hachiman, you've been dealing with this all along?"
"…Yeah," I said.
"Then let me see them with you from now on," she said.
"No way," I said. "This is too heavy, even for you. I can't let—"
"I haven't given you anything back!" she burst out. "You saved me, Hachiman, but I've given you nothing… I see that now. You've been hurt where we couldn't see, and I should've noticed when I got my fan letters! Comparing how the public sees you would've made it obvious… I thought I understood you, but I missed your pain until now. So let me share it. Let me carry your hurt. If we're walking together, I need to know this too."
"…Air Groove," I said.
"This isn't pity," she said. "It's my failure for not seeing it, and as your partner aiming for the top, it's only natural."
…She's not backing down.
"…Fine," I said. "But one last time—if it feels bad, stop. I don't want you crying over this."
"Understood," she said. "…And for a little while, let me do this."
Air Groove pressed her forehead to my shoulder, her face buried in my chest. The letters' contents must've been worse than she imagined… Forget inventory today. I'll spend this time comforting her.
Afterword
Hachiman's hidden burden—vicious hate mail—comes to light, and Air Groove refuses to let him bear it alone, cementing their partnership. The Yahari crossover fuels Hachiman's sacrifice and Air Groove's loyalty, with the sting of relentless slander, as you noted, cutting deep.
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