Hachiman's POV
Ever since Rudolf and CB officially joined my roster, our training sessions have reached a new level of productivity. At first, Rice was a nervous wreck around them, but she's finally started to find her footing. Now, she speaks her mind without hesitation, offering her own critiques and reflections after each run. Since I'd spent so much time observing Rudolf and CB even before they were my trainees, I already had a decent handle on their styles. It's allowed me to fine-tune their performance without having to reinvent the wheel, which—honestly—is the kind of efficiency I live for.
That said, Rice's next race is looming on the horizon. She seems to feel the weight of it; her movements have grown sharper and more deliberate with every passing day. Part of that is thanks to the pressure of training with two legends-in-the-making, but the biggest factor is undoubtedly Bourbon.
We were all looking forward to the rematch, but fate had other plans. First, we heard she was skipping the race due to a slight limp in her right leg; then, Trainer Blacknuma called to confirm she'd developed periostitis in her right tibia.
Apparently, both Blacknuma and Bourbon had been pushing themselves to the absolute limit for this rematch. It seems they overdid it. Blacknuma sounded devastated over the phone, blaming himself for putting too much of a burden on her. I told Rice about it, and while she's clearly concerned, she hasn't let it shake her focus. If anything, she seems more driven than ever. Seeing her give it her all makes the injury news feel even more bittersweet.
But now, I have a new set of problems: Rudolf and CB's debuts.
To be blunt, I really don't want to pit them against each other on the same stage. Both of them have the raw talent to sweep the Triple Crown. While there's a certain romanticism to letting two rivals sharpen each other in the heat of battle, I have to balance that against Rice's schedule. Maybe I should debut CB first? Rudolf's the type who prefers to wait until every single preparation is perfect, anyway…
"Big Brother? Are you okay? You look like you're overthinking something."
Rice's voice pulled me back to reality.
"Brother," Rudolf added, stepping closer, "if my wisdom can be of any use, please consult me. I don't want you carrying the weight of our careers entirely on your own."
"Yeah, Hachiman! We want to be useful to you too, you know?" CB chirped.
"Is that so?" I sighed. "In that case, do me a favor. Could you all back off a few inches?"
"B-but it's still so cold out," Rice stammered, leaning in. "If you catch a cold, Big Brother, I… I wouldn't know what to do with myself."
"Uma Musume have a higher body temperature than humans," Rudolf noted with academic detachment, despite the fact that she was practically glued to my side. "It's no trouble at all to keep you warm."
"Look, the electric heater is doing its job just fine," I argued, gesturing toward the corner. "See that? It's working its heart out, sending waves of orange-tinted warmth our way. Why are you ignoring its noble sacrifice?"
"Hachiman, stop being so selfish," CB pouted.
"I'm pretty sure I'm not the one being selfish here," I muttered. Seriously, what is it with these girls? Sometimes they just completely tune out my logic.
We were in the Trainer's Office. I'd just arrived, and the room was a crisp fifty degrees—not exactly cozy. These three had appeared out of nowhere and formed a tactical perimeter around me. I understood the "warmth" excuse, but really… what were they actually here for?
"Anyway, what's the real reason you're here?" I asked. "You didn't just come here to act as high-performance space heaters, did you?"
"Oh, right!" CB clapped her hands. "Hachiman, do you know what day it is?"
I did a quick mental check of the calendar. "...Valentine's Day?"
"Precisely, Brother," Rudolf said, her expression softening. "We wanted to give you some chocolate. The three of us discussed it and decided on a coordinated strike on the Trainer's Office."
"We worked really hard on them," Rice said, looking up at me with those puppy-dog eyes. "Please, will you accept them?"
"...Right. I get it." I wasn't about to be the guy who rejects a sincere gesture like that. "I'll take them. I appreciate the thought. Now, can you all move so I can actually, you know, hold them?"
"Hachiman, I told you—stop being selfish!" CB teased.
"This isn't selfishness, it's physics! I need arm room!"
Ten minutes later...
"Is everyone ready?" Rudolf asked, taking the lead.
"All set! ♪" CB said.
"Y-yes!" Rice squeaked.
"On three," Rudolf commanded. "One, two...!"
"Happy Valentine's!" the three of them shouted in unison, thrusting decorated boxes toward me.
I took them, surprised by the weight and the elaborate packaging. "Thanks. I'll make sure to savor these."
"Open them now!" CB insisted. "You're dying to see what's inside, right?"
"I mean, I'm curious, but is it okay?"
"We made them specifically for you," Rudolf said. "We'd be honored if you viewed the results of our labor."
"Alright, then."
I started with Rudolf's. The box felt chilled to the touch, and as I expected, it was a refrigerated dessert—a chocolate cake topped with seven meticulously crafted scoops of ice cream.
"You made this yourself?" I asked, impressed.
"Of course," Rudolf replied. "Though I fear I still haven't reached your level of craftsmanship."
"Don't sell yourself short. This looks incredible. Thanks, Rudolf." Next was CB.
"Here you go! ♪" she beamed.
I honestly didn't know what to expect from CB. I couldn't even picture her in a kitchen. The result was... surprisingly grounded.
"I made chocolate crunch and baked chocolates!" CB explained. "They're pretty normal, right? I don't usually do the whole 'baking' thing, so I had Maruzensky show me the ropes."
"The uneven shapes actually give it a nice homemade feel," I noted. "Next to Rudolf's, this actually looks like something a human made instead of a luxury boutique."
"Wait, is that a compliment?" CB asked.
"Well, look at Rudolf's cake. Does that look 'homemade' to you?"
CB squinted at the professional-grade cake. "...No. Not even a little."
"Ahaha," Rudolf let out a dry laugh. "Perhaps I should have aimed for something more... rustic?"
"Nah, they both have their merits," I said. "They reflect your personalities. And finally... Rice."
"I'm so nervous..." Rice whispered.
Rice was the best cook of the bunch, so I knew she'd probably gone all out. I opened the lid and froze. "...Uh."
"What? Is it bad?" Rice asked, her ears drooping.
"No, it's just... Rice, is this a prototype for some international confectionery competition?"
"N-no! It's just your Valentine's cake!"
"I don't know, man... this looks like it belongs in a museum. You guys seeing this?"
CB leaned in. "Whoa. Rice, did you go into a trance or something? I feel like it's a crime to even eat this..."
"Indeed," Rudolf agreed, her voice full of genuine respect. "I can see why you'd call it art. The craftsmanship is flawless."
Rice had made a chocolate cake, but the decorations were on another level: a bouquet of vibrant blue roses made of frosting, and a heart-shaped white chocolate plaque with "Happy Valentine's Day" written in perfect, elegant cursive.
"Rice, CB's right," I said. "I feel like I need to put this in a glass case, not a stomach."
"Fueh?!"
"Yeah," CB added. "We should just display it in the clubroom in a permanent temperature-controlled cage."
"It seems there is always a higher peak to climb," Rudolf sighed dramatically. "Rice Shower, I admit defeat."
"Okay, here's my official ranking," I announced. "Rudolf is 'Professional Store Grade.' CB is 'Heartfelt First-Timer.' And Rice is 'Masterpiece/Grand Prix Winner.' Thoughts?"
"No objections," Rudolf and CB said in unison.
"F-fueeee?!"
"So, Rice is the winner this year," I said. "Seriously, Rice, you should consider entering a contest."
"N-no way! I made this for Big Brother! I couldn't make something like this for anyone else!"
I have to admit, as far as Valentines go, this was a pretty great one. But as I looked at the three boxes—and remembered the two other cakes I'd already received from other people earlier today—a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
I'm a guy who values efficiency, but eating my way through five entire cakes? That's not a training regimen. That's a death sentence via blood sugar.
There's no doubt about it: Rice's chocolate was a god-tier work of art.
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