...
After the Japanese Derby, the next events were Urara's debut race and Silence Suzuka's Takarazuka Kinen.
On a Friday evening as the race day approached, everyone sat in a row on the grass after training, admiring the brilliant sunset.
The beautiful, tranquil moment flowed like a babbling brook. Before the night fell, everyone wished time would slow down just a little more.
"Urara, what's your dream after your debut race?" Lucian rested his hand on Urara's head beside him.
"After that..." Urara bent her legs slightly and rested her chin on her knees. "I want to stand on the Winner's Stage at least once. Does that count?"
There was only a single character's difference between "dream" and "fantasy," yet the gap between them was as vast as heaven and earth. If it were her childhood self, she could have naively shouted, "I want to be Japan's best!"
But now, she had grown up.
"It counts, of course it counts. But rather than calling it a dream, it's more accurate to say it's a goal."
"Okay, then this is Urara's goal!"
Sometimes, a single word from Lucian was enough to fill Urara with sudden confidence.
"Suzuka? What about your next goal?"
Silence Suzuka already had her plans in mind. After a brief moment of thought, she listed them one by one. "After the Takarazuka Kinen, it's the Mainichi Okan, then the Tenno Sho this autumn. After that, if everything goes smoothly..."
She paused abruptly at this point. "It's a secret."
Lucian's heart tightened, but he continued her words: "After that... of course, it'll go smoothly. And whatever you have in mind after that, I'll support you with all I've got."
Was everything predestined to happen? Lucian desperately wished Silence Suzuka would keep listing her plans—whether it was the Arima Kinen or races overseas, anything would be better.
(In the Autumn Tenno Sho, Silence Suzuka suffered a comminuted fracture of the left foreleg's cannon bone and was euthanized the same day at the age of 4.)
For Silence Suzuka's upcoming races, Lucian was probably even more nervous than she was.
"Spe-chan? 'Japan's best' needs concrete evidence, or else it's just too vague."
"I'll take every upcoming graded stakes race seriously! I'll do my best to win!" As if recalling her defeat in the Satsuki Sho, Special Week suddenly clenched the grass beneath her hands.
"So cool! Spe-chan is so cool!" Urara's eyes sparkled. To her, Special Week was nothing short of an idol.
"Seiun." Finally, Lucian turned his gaze to Seiun Sky.
He was genuinely exasperated—Seiun Sky was sitting far enough away that Silence Suzuka was between them, yet she had still managed to reach over and poke him earlier.
"Setting goals and stuff... hmm~ feels exhausting. Nothing particularly worth mentioning for now."
"Sure, sure." Lucian laughed, seeing right through her old fishing act.
Seiun Sky stuck out her tongue playfully and shot back, "Trainer, what about your goal? Or your dream?"
The others' eyes also turned to Lucian.
He froze for a moment—he had never really thought about it before.
His reason for becoming a trainer hadn't been for himself in the first place, so how could he even talk about dreams?
"I don't have one."
"Are you unwilling to say, or do you really not have one?"
"Guess?"
"Tch, if you won't say it, then don't. Making people guess... not like I care anyway." Seiun Sky turned her face away with a huff.
"Lucian-kun must want to become the greatest trainer, right?" Silence Suzuka ventured a guess. She was deeply curious about everything concerning Lucian.
"Could be." Lucian brushed it off with a laugh—not because he didn't want to answer, but because he couldn't.
Silence Suzuka also pursed her lips and promptly ignored him.
"Alright, it's getting late." Lucian stood up casually, brushing off his pants. "Let's go. My treat for dinner."
...
Time flowed like water, day after day.
Soon, the Takarazuka Kinen arrived.
Before the race, Lucian was in the waiting room, giving Silence Suzuka a final check.
As he tied her shoelaces, his hands trembled noticeably—so much so that he didn't even realize she was wearing the pair he had given her.
"Lucian-kun, did you not sleep well last night?"
"Huh?" Lucian exhaled heavily. "Yeah, a bit of insomnia."
"Did you pile up your work again?"
"You got me." He didn't elaborate. In truth, he had spent the whole night thinking about Silence Suzuka.
"You can't keep doing this." Silence Suzuka chided gently.
After finishing with the laces, she took a few steps to adjust. "Any tactical advice for this race?"
"None. Your running style is straightforward and decisive—it crushes all flashy tricks. I'm rooting for you."
At his praise, Silence Suzuka smiled softly.
"Suzuka..." Lucian pressed his lips together uneasily, wanting to say something, but his throat seemed to flash a red light—no passage allowed.
He couldn't possibly tell her to hold back in a G1 race, could he? Or... to skip all future races altogether.
But these were exactly the things Lucian had agonized over the night before. He couldn't be that selfish.
"Lucian-kun? Is there something you want to tell me?"
He shook his head, forcing the words back down. "No. Wishing you a swift victory. I'll head to the stands now."
Silence Suzuka still found it odd but nodded. "Okay."
...
"Silence Suzuka! Still leading by a wide margin!"
"The gap between her and second place is nearly twelve lengths now!"
"If the others don't pick up the pace soon, there's no way anyone can catch Silence Suzuka!"
The commentator's excited voice riled up the crowd.
But Lucian was the exception...
Before the race, Urara had bought ice cream for everyone, including Lucian.
"T-Trainer! Your ice cream is dripping!"
"Ah—!"
Lucian hurriedly flipped his cone upright.
He didn't know what came over him—he took a huge bite, and the icy mass pressed against the roof of his mouth like a frozen blade, sending sharp pain through his nerves.
"Trainer..." Urara compared her own half-finished ice cream to his. "Do you... not know how to eat ice cream? Do you want Urara to teach you?"
Lucian barely managed to recover, swallowing the melted mess. "No need. As long as you can enjoy it, that's enough."
As he spoke, he casually wiped a smear of ice cream from the corner of Urara's mouth.
"Trainer, were you too focused on the race earlier?"
Seiun Sky's voice came from behind.
When Lucian turned, the sight was even more absurd—her upper lip was covered in ice cream, like a white mustache.
He initially meant to point it out, but noticing her slight pout, he immediately understood her game.
"Yeah, got a little too absorbed."
Though "absorbed" was an understatement—he had been so tense that he'd completely neglected the treat in his hand.
As he spoke, he pulled out a tissue and gently wiped Seiun Sky's upper lip.
Her lips were thin but delicately shaped, with a naturally rosy hue that needed no embellishment—like tiny, playful cherries.
Unbeknownst to him, as he absentmindedly studied her lips, Seiun Sky was also watching him.
Suddenly, the conditions she had set for herself didn't seem so appealing anymore.
Lips were meant to seek their other half, not just settle for cheeks.
For Seiun Sky, his lips, so close yet untouchable, were both a flutter in her heart and an unbearable temptation.
Just what did a kiss feel like, anyway?
The seed of "I want to kiss him" was planted then and there.
...
"Trainer, Suzuka is about to win!" Special Week reminded him.
Lucian had already analyzed Suzuka's high chances of victory before the race. What worried him wasn't this race at all.
But compared to that...
"Spe-chan, how exactly are you eating your ice cream? Can you show me?" Lucian stared at the full ring of "mess" around Special Week's lips, utterly baffled.
Urara's was accidental, Seiun Sky's was deliberate... but Special Week couldn't be "deliberately accidental," right? She was too clueless, too slow.
"What's wrong, Trainer? What do you mean?" Special Week blinked, utterly lost.
"Never mind. Here." With his last tissue, Lucian wiped her mouth clean.
"Oh... I didn't even notice. Thanks, Trainer."
It was a simple, earnest "thank you"—no shyness, no hesitation.
But Lucian didn't dwell on it. His gaze returned to the track.