As Mr. C.B. was lost in reminiscence, bursts of laughter from ahead drew her gaze instinctively.
A joyful child darted around her parents, loudly proclaiming her admiration for the Uma Musume's performances on the racetrack.
Clutching a plush toy of her favorite racer tightly, the little girl declared her vow to become an Uma Musume just like her one day.
Her parents, holding a balloon printed with the image of that very Uma Musume, smiled warmly and encouraged her.
In the past, such a small dream might have been crushed by the weight of innate talent.
But now, everyone had the right to chase their dreams.
With enough effort, the gates of Tracen Academy and the racing world would open for all.
Mr. C.B. stared blankly at the scene, her hand unconsciously reaching out to grasp the hand of the person beside her.
She parted her lips as if to speak, but the words died before they could form, swallowed back down.
Looking into Dream Weaver's vacant, lifeless eyes, Mr. C.B.'s heart sank into an abyss once more.
There was so much she wanted to say.
She wanted to share the joy this scene brought her, to tell her how the world had begun to change because of her efforts, to say that little girl might grow up to pursue her dream and become a remarkable Uma Musume.
But faced with those utterly vacant eyes, Mr. C.B. found she couldn't utter a word.
She took a handkerchief and wiped Dream Weaver's soiled hand once more, then offered her the ice cream cone she held in her other hand.
Originally, Mr. C.B. had thought that even if they sat on the bench in silence, licking their ice creams, it would at least look like they were out on a date, enjoying the day together.
Dream Weaver had declined many invitations, using lack of time or rest as an excuse. So now, even if it was just deceiving herself, Mr. C.B. wanted Dream Weaver to have a moment of respite.
Yet, recalling the past, Mr. C.B. could no longer lie to her own heart.
Dream Weaver was not coming back.
The future she once spoke of had become a time she would never reach.
The Uma Musume Mr. C.B. had longed to see emerge was gone. She had vanished in the Kikuka Sho, vanished at Kyoto Racecourse, vanished after victory itself.
She had opened a new era for everyone, giving all the hope to chase their dreams.
But she herself, like a sacrifice offered to this new age, remained forever in the past.
For a moment, Mr. C.B. struggled to control her emotions.
The corners of her eyes turned red, and large teardrops welled up, but she bit her lip fiercely, fighting desperately not to cry.
This was a place of happiness and joy, an amusement park where children could freely dream. Tears had no place here.
Covering her eyes with her elbow, Mr. C.B. slumped on the bench.
Apart from the occasional shudder of her shoulders and her tightly pressed lips, she looked like nothing more than a weary traveler shielding her eyes from the sun.
The footsteps and chatter of the bustling crowd filled the air, but to Mr. C.B., it was just white noise—their happiness, their laughter, all utterly disconnected from her.
The Uma Musume who had brought her hope was stuck in the past. She could no longer feel that warmth.
But just as Mr. C.B. was drowning in sorrow, the black-haired Uma Musume beside her—who had been mechanically stroking her ice cream—suddenly froze. The hand holding the cone went limp.
'I'm back?'
Thoughts flowed through her mind.
This time, loading back into the script world's future seemed to take much longer than before. Dream Weaver instinctively wanted to frown but felt an indescribable sluggishness.
Unlike the crisp return from the script world's future she'd experienced before, Dream Weaver could feel she was fully integrated into her body now. Yet, there was a significant lag between thought and action.
Only after her thoughts had completed a full cycle did her eyebrows finally, belatedly, knit together.
'Is there a delay in the connection with my body?'
Dream Weaver wondered inwardly. But before she could ponder further, she suddenly heard a muffled sob beside her.
With great effort, she shifted her gaze, enduring the strange, sticky sensation as she turned her eyes toward Mr. C.B.
Seeing Mr. C.B., who was biting her lip hard yet still unable to stop tears from streaking down her cheeks, Dream Weaver was taken aback.
In her memory, Mr. C.B. had never cried. Even when speaking of her past, the most she showed was a hint of loneliness in her eyes.
Just like after the Japanese Derby back then—Dream Weaver had sensed the melancholy in Mr. C.B.'s words, but she had only smiled and offered her congratulations.
Crying, especially such an intense outburst in public, seemed utterly unlike something Mr. C.B. would do.
She who chased freedom should have been able to face any hardship with a carefree smile.
Dream Weaver couldn't imagine what could possibly have broken Mr. C.B. to this point. Had the situation not improved even after he won the Kikuka Sho?
Still, even if she didn't know why Mr. C.B. was crying, as a friend, Dream Weaver felt she ought to offer some comfort.
The lag between body and mind was too high.
Speech would come out in disjointed syllables. In this state, action would be more fitting than words.
Enduring the strange, viscous feeling, Dream Weaver moved her right hand bit by bit, slowly but firmly placing it over Mr. C.B.'s hand.
She wasn't sure why her hand felt sticky, but considering she was trying to offer comfort, surely Mr. C.B. wouldn't mind?
Just as Dream Weaver was mulling this over, Mr. C.B. shuddered at the touch.
Her head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at Dream Weaver. Her lips quivered as if trying to form words, but in her agitation, no language came—she could only gaze blankly.
Mr. C.B. looked down at the hand covering hers, feeling the warmth radiating from it. She checked again and again, until she was certain this was no illusion.
"Dream… Weaver?"
She whispered the name, no longer holding back the tears, letting them soak into her shirt.
Seeing Mr. C.B. crying even harder for some reason, Dream Weaver blinked in confusion. But due to the sluggishness, to Mr. C.B., it just looked like a slow, dazed blink.
For Mr. C.B., however, that was more than enough.
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.