There were things she'd forgotten, and things she wished she could forget, but above all—
Never mention the Arc to Mejiro Ardan.
But—but—but—but, Neo-chan!
Did you forget to remind me of something?
What am I supposed to do if Ardan-neesan brings up the Arc herself?!
Gotham Song had never panicked quite this badly.
Yet as a deathly silence filled the backseat of the car, the oblivious Silic chimed in from up front:
"Huh? The Arc? Oh, your first trip in Paris is visiting the Arc? Ardan-san, you truly have… excellent taste!"
Excellent taste!?
Silic, please, if you can't read the room, just don't speak at all!
For most people, the Arc represented glory. But for Ardan-neesan, it certainly wasn't just glory.
Gotham Song stayed silent, ears drooping.
However, beneath this heavy atmosphere, Mejiro Ardan was somehow wearing a gentle smile. Actually, she'd been quietly smiling this whole time—
A soft, gentle smile flickering subtly beneath shifting shadows cast by the passing streetlights.
"I do wish to see the Arc properly again—this time without rain. Silic-san, would you like to join us?"
Her voice, gentle yet chilly, sent a subtle chill down Gotham Song's spine. Whether due to a threat of imminent death or perhaps... some runaway idiot's intuition?
Either way, Gotham Song distinctly felt Silic shiver in her seat, hastily offering an excuse:
"No, no, I'd better not tag along!"
Praise-worthy driving skills, though. Despite her obvious panic, Silic managed to keep the ride smooth and stable.
But still! Silic, you troublemaker! You started this whole mess—take responsibility and join us to soak up some of the damage!!
...
Early July, Paris Longchamp, Arc, zero meters, two entrants—Mejiro Ardan and Gotham Song.
Haha, now I'm completely doomed.
I'm going to die, and it's all your fault, Silic! Please!
Yet, unexpectedly, nothing else happened on the ride. Mejiro Ardan maintained her subtle, oppressive aura all the way until they arrived at Dancing Brave's home.
Only once they stepped out of the car did Ardan finally let go of that intimidating presence, reverting back to her usual gentle demeanor.
That was terrifying.
Still shaken, Gotham Song escorted Mejiro Ardan upstairs, finally relaxing once Ardan had settled into a room near her own.
Seizing the moment while Ardan washed up, Gotham Song rushed back to her room, and as expected, Neo Universe lay waiting on her bed, blinking innocently.
"Neo-chan, Neo-chan! Help! Ardan-neesan's lost it—she asked me to visit the Arc tomorrow!"
"Ardan-san, the Arc, together with Song-chan…?"
Neo Universe was equally startled and puzzled. She also couldn't immediately grasp Mejiro Ardan's intentions, but…
Wasn't this actually a rare opportunity?
Thinking this, Neo Universe looked at Gotham Song seriously.
"This is a good opportunity."
"Opportunity…?"
Wait, opportunity? Could Neo Universe mean…?!
Gotham Song suddenly understood.
Neo Universe meant it could be a chance to do what she'd always wanted:
Mend the rift within Mejiro Manor and slowly return to the closeness of the past.
"Yes, an opportunity. Ardan-san is the easiest one to reconnect with."
Neo Universe's words weren't merely speculation; she spoke from experience across parallel worlds.
In fact, in another world, Mejiro Ardan had indeed fully reconciled with Gotham Song—even after knowing her true identity.
So from this perspective, tomorrow's outing could actually be the ideal moment, right?
Longchamp Racecourse, just the two of them, Gotham's identity still hidden.
At the very least, she could test how this world's Ardan felt toward her.
And even better—this was Paris, not Japan. Mejiro Manor couldn't immediately intervene, and Neo Universe could secretly keep watch from the shadows. Under such circumstances, wasn't it completely safe?
Therefore, the choice rested entirely in Gotham Song's hands…
Would she take this chance? Her heart gradually focused on tomorrow's Arc visit.
Song-chan, what will you choose?
In that case, she'd have to go through with it.
Gotham Song made up her mind, carefully reviewed the details with Neo Universe, then nestled together into sleep.
Yet, right as she was about to drift off, Gotham Song faintly heard Neo Universe whispering in her ear:
"I'll protect you, Song-chan."
Ah, Neo-chan, I've never doubted that. After all, we're…
"Partners in crime," aren't we?
With that thought, Gotham Song sank into sleep, not yet realizing something might be strange about that phrase.
Even after waking the next morning, carefully reflecting, she still didn't think there was anything wrong with calling themselves "partners in crime."
She'd once conspired with Ardan to hide something from Ramonu—partners in crime then, and surely now, conspiring once again, they remained the same.
Feeling clearer now, Gotham Song washed up, stepping outside to meet Daiichi Ruby's curious gaze.
"I'm going out with Ardan-san for a bit, Ruby. I'll be back later."
"Is that so, Song-san? I'll wait for you."
Daiichi Ruby wasn't the type to fuss needlessly, so upon hearing this, she obediently nodded and thoughtfully draped a thin coat around Gotham Song's shoulders—one Ruby herself had chosen specifically.
Gotham Song nodded gratefully, then waited for Mejiro Ardan. This time, they didn't trouble Silic but chose to take the public bus instead.
The moment Gotham stepped onto the bus, she immediately noticed golden ears twitching subtly in the crowd—Neo Universe had clearly begun her surveillance.
The comforting knowledge of Neo Universe's presence gave Gotham Song the courage to speak first.
If she was going to do this… there was no turning back now.
"Ardan-neesan? Are we heading straight to Longchamp?"
"No, there's someplace else I want to visit first. Would you mind accompanying me, Song-san?"
Gotham Song naturally nodded. Though she knew she'd eventually have to face the Arc—and by extension, her own grave—delaying it for a while longer didn't seem like a bad idea.
Moreover, Gotham Song was genuinely curious about where Ardan-neesan planned to go first, before heading to pay respects at… well, her own tomb.
The bus rattled onward through the bustling city, eventually stopping near a quieter neighborhood. Gotham Song found it vaguely familiar—perhaps near the hotel she'd stayed at before the Arc.
Is this nostalgia, Ardan-neesan?
Filled with curiosity, Gotham Song allowed Ardan's phone navigation to guide them, finally stopping in front of a large building.
A museum? Why come here?
While Gotham Song remained confused, Ardan had already bought two tickets, gently pulling Gotham Song's hand as they stepped inside.
Ardan moved quickly and purposefully through the museum without pause. Gotham realized immediately—this was Ardan's first visit, yet she'd clearly researched beforehand exactly how to reach whatever she wanted to see.
Whatever Ardan sought here, it was the only thing she cared about. The rest was irrelevant.
What could be so important to Ardan that she'd prioritize it before visiting her grave?
Gotham Song's curiosity surged, until finally Ardan stopped, and Gotham understood.
It was something familiar yet strange.
Familiar, because Gotham Song herself had made it; strange, because she'd nearly forgotten it existed.
It was the only artistic signature she'd personally designed and written herself.
She still remembered clearly. On the morning of the Arc, she'd absentmindedly signed her name for a hotel attendant.
To be honest, she hadn't been in a very stable state of mind back then—she'd given it away without much thought.
But thinking back now…
An iconic person, globally renowned, giving out a unique signature on the very morning of her death—just how valuable could that be?
Its visible value was clear: displayed prominently on the museum wall under strict security. Crowds thronged around, able only to gaze from afar, yet even so—
On an ordinary weekday morning, just after opening, visitors already packed the exhibit—both humans and Uma Musume—eagerly snapping photos of the signature.
Truthfully, their fervent, almost religious enthusiasm frightened Gotham Song slightly.
Because these weren't just tourists—
They looked like devoted pilgrims.
So terrifying.
Mejiro Ardan, however, seemed entirely prepared. The crowd instantly parted upon recognizing her, giving Ardan clear access to the front row.
After posing together for a commemorative photo, Ardan signed a few autographs for eager fans before leaving the museum with Gotham Song.
"How do you feel, seeing such a scene?"
"…I really never expected this many people."
Ardan's lips curled slightly, filled with pride and satisfaction.
That's my proud sister and partner in crime.
"It's said many wealthy collectors and even legendary Uma Musume approached that attendant to privately buy the signature afterward."
"And then?"
"She decided to sell it to this museum at a reasonable price instead."
Ardan's voice carried a nostalgic sigh.
"She later explained: such a precious piece would be wasted privately; better to let the whole world appreciate it as Twilight Song's final gift."
"How romantic—a fan like that, and an idol like her."
Gotham Song quietly admired that fan's generosity, and Ardan's deep affection was unmistakable.
"Though apparently, the attendant didn't go unrewarded. The museum promised her 0.5% of its ticket revenue every day for thirty years."
In a way, it was lifelong security.
"And afterward? What did she do?"
"Oh, her? She became an online activist fighting against the URA system."
Gotham Song nearly choked, unsure how to respond.
In the brief silence, Ardan led her to a nearby flower shop.
"This shop has been here for years… Owner, a bouquet of violets, please."
Violets? Ah… flowers had specific meanings, especially for graves. Violets meant… what again?
Utterly lacking romantic sense, Gotham Song nervously picked another bouquet.
"Lavender? How fitting—Twilight Song's favorite flower."
"Oh… really?"
Oops, she thought sheepishly. She hadn't even thought—just picked lavender instinctively.
She glanced nervously at Ardan, relieved to see no suspicion.
After leaving the puzzled shop owner, Ardan and Gotham finally reached their destination.
Longchamp Racecourse.
Standing quietly above the sunny, empty course, Gotham felt momentarily dazed.
This was her first return to this deeply intertwined place—
The Arc at Longchamp.
I wonder… since then, how many rains have come and gone?