"Hi! Do you mind becoming my teammate?" the girl said with a bright smile.
Urara blinked in surprise. For a moment, she thought the girl was talking to someone else — because surely, she wasn't the one people usually asked first.
Yet the girl stood there, waiting, her hands folded behind her back, eyes full of excitement.
"Me?" Urara pointed at herself, dumbfounded with a confused grin.
"Yes, you!" The girl leaned forward, her brown hair bouncing with excitement. "You looked like someone who'd be fun to run with!"
Urara's mouth hung slightly open. She didn't know what to say.
It wasn't every day that someone came up to her — especially not during team selection. In most races, she was the one left unpicked until last, if at all. Or she was mostly benched because of her overexertion most of the time.
She was used to that.
But this—this was new.
Her heart fluttered, almost nervously, as she gasped,
"I…"
Before she could finish her sentence, the girl asked again, "So? What do you think?" Her smile still unbroken, eyes gleaming.
Anticipating Urara to join her.
Urara hesitated, looking around for excuses, glancing up and down at her hands.
She just didn't really know how to reject people. Especially not when someone seemed so happy to have her.
So, like she bound to,
"Okay! Urara accepts!" Urara declared, raising her head.
"Alright!" the girl cheered. "Then it's decided!"
She extended her hand eagerly. "Name's Rushing Sky! What's yours?"
"Haru Urara!" Urara replied, grasping her hand.
"Nice to meet you, Haru Urara!" Rush smiled. "Let's do our best together!"
Urara then nodded hectically to match the energy, "Yeah! Let's do it! We'll win this!" or perhaps a little too much.
But then, from the corner of her eye, Urara's smile faltered.
Past Rush's shoulder, she caught sight of Mary — still surrounded by students, each one vying for her attention. Mary didn't seem to notice any of them, her expression distant, eyes still cold and unbothered.
Urara's heart skipped. She kinda wanted to be beside Mary again, even if just for a small race.
To say sorry, that too.
But now, someone else had already reached her first — and Urara had said yes. And she would never break promises, not when she made one before one with her mother.
While Urara was still gaping at Mary—
"Urara?"
Rush suddenly tilted her head. "You okay?" Unintentionally blocked the sight of Mary.
"Huh? Oh! Y-yeah! Totally!" Urara snapped, returning with her usual energy.
Rush giggled. "So, Urara, what do you like to do when you're not in class?"
"Oh! I love races!" Urara blurted instantly, her eyes lighting up again.
"Really? Me too!" Rush beamed, clearly thrilled. "Who's your favorite Umamusume?"
"Hmm… I really liked Akitsu Teio! Her races are really exhilarating! It was so fast and fun!" Urara said, her hands bouncing as she spoke.
"Oh, that one was amazing!" Rush replied, nodding enthusiastically. "But I've always been more of a Symboli Rudolf fan. The way she carries herself—her speed, her aura, her posture—it's just… flawless!"
"Simbo… what?" Urara tilted her head.
Rush chuckled. "Symboli Rudolf! Have you never watched her races? Oh, you have to! She's like the definition of being unstoppable! She was literally the triple crowns!"
Meanwhile, Urara just blinked, completely unfamiliar with the word 'Triple Crowns.'
But passing that, their chatter continued...
The two girls gushed about their favorite Umamusume, debating races, laughing over silly mispronunciations, and even mimicking the famous runners' victory poses.
Meanwhile, across the room — still encircled by classmates — Mary sat unbothered or somewhat annoyed at her desk. Their chatter and argument because of her, buzzing like static in her ears, meaningless.
Her gaze, however, drifted past them all.
Turning her head back toward her.
Urara.
The pink-haired girl who was laughing, bouncing gleefully as she and another girl — one Mary didn't recognize — exchanged stories and did silly gestures. Their conversation, their connection, it was painful to notice.
That smile.
That intimacy.
Mary's hand curled into a fist. Something inside her chest flared.
For a fleeting second, she didn't understand it — that sting in her heart, the heaviness pressing down on her.
She was jealous. A word that should never occur in her mind.
Then, while she could still stop herself from crusading jealousy, she stood up.
The sound of her chair scraping the floor broke through the circling crows. Conversations died mid-sentence. All eyes turned.
"Mary?" someone whispered.
But she didn't look at anyone. Without a word, she turned and walked straight for the corridor.
Acting unbothered, escaping.
Yet, the crowd of students still chased after her until the classroom doorway.
As a few called after her — "Mary, wait!" "Remember to join our team, ya!"
But Mary didn't respond. She simply advanced, skipping them, or perhaps 'her', to clear her mind.
Meanwhile, for Urara, it felt… nice.
Talking like this. Laughing without thinking.
It was something she deserved long ago; a person wouldn't mind talking to her so openly.
Yet somehow she stuck with someone so conflicted, complicated. A toxic relationship shouldn't have started in the first place.
Despite that, Urara still yearned for Mary, yearned for their reconciliation. Giving it was the first meaningful friendship she built with her heart. A friendship that shouldn't ended so incompletely...
Then, out in the quiet corridor, Mary slowed down again. She pressed her palm against her heart.
Urara's laughter stuck in her head. That joviality. That carelessness. Their time spent together.
Then, the gloom came along with that other girl — Rushing Sky.
Mary's teeth clenched. Her hand palm curled into a fist. She wasn't sure if it was anger or jealousy, or something far more fragile.
That could have been her.
That could have been her laughing with Urara.
That could have been—
If only she hadn't—
As quickly as she was conflicted, she stopped herself.
She took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and forced the quake out of her breath.
"Stay away," she whispered to herself.
"Stay away from her, from the weak. You're meant to be superior. You're meant to be alone. You're meant to be perfect."
The words chanted like a prayer — or a curse.
With that, Mary composed, turned, and vanished down the corridor, her silhouette swallowed by the afternoon light.
...
...
Sometime later...
The teams were finalized. Mary, still surrounded by those who still clamored for her acknowledgment, was placed with four other classmates, directly assigned by their homeroom teacher, who was already giving up on the mess and fighting just for her attention.
Meanwhile, Urara and Rush completed their own group with three others, which looked forced.
Then, the school day came with the final bell, and the classroom emptied immediately in a wave of laughter and footsteps.
The day ended as quickly as it had begun.
But one stayed. She stayed.
Instead of being called to remain, Mary had personally requested to speak with her teacher after class — a rare occurrence that caught the teacher's mild curiosity.
The teacher tidied the stack of test papers on her desk. "So, Mary, what's wrong? It's unusual for you to ask for my help. You usually prefer to manage everything on your own."
Mary hesitated. Her lips parted, but no sound came.
"I…" she started.
The teacher waved her hand dismissively. "Ah, it's about the relay race, isn't it? Don't worry too much! I know everyone has been bothering you. But consider it as goodwill from your classmates, will you? I mean, people tend to be attracted to something glistering. I mean, it's just a class event. Just stay true to yourself, okay? Do what you do best — no need to feel pressured by anyone else."
Mary frowned. "I…"
The teacher continued, oblivious, smiling kindly as she organized her notes. "Actually, how are you lately, Mary? You've seemed… different. Paler, maybe? Are you not sleeping enough again? Remember, rest is important — you can't run well if you exhaust yourself. Or was it that Urara? Damn, that pink creature, always causing trouble... But might've just forgiven her. After all, a little bit of irrationality could turn a dull day into a fun one."
"No…! I—"
"Hmm, or maybe it's the weather," the teacher mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Season changes can really get to you sometimes. Don't forget to drink water and—"
"I'm not tutoring Urara anymore!"
The words came out astuter than Mary intended.
The teacher froze, her train of thought derailed completely. "And—wait, what?"
Mary lowered her gaze, muttering, "I said… I won't be tutoring her anymore."
The mood died down quickly. Even the gentle hum of the evening wind through the window seemed to fade.
The teacher blinked, setting the papers down slowly. "Wha— Why, Mary?" she gasped, "Did something happen between you two? You two were going so strong..."
Mary shook her head.
"No… It's just that…" she hesitated, carefully devising each word, "I realized my performance has started to decline recently. Thinking I've spent too much time helping her, instead of myself. So I decided to redirect the attention back to myself. Given that, the school race is only a few weeks away. I want to train harder — to break my own record. To give the best performance I can offer."
"To make him proud—," she slipped and quickly bit those words back.
Then, quieter, almost to herself, "To break the world record."
Her teacher blinked in surprise. She sighed as she latched her face onto her palm. "That's a bit high, don't you think? You're still young, Mary. You should spend more time on—"
"No! I can't!"
The outburst startled her. Mary choked as it burst from her lips. Her fist trembled at her side, her eyes quivering.
"I can't, teacher… I really can't…" she whispered again, but that wasn't anger — but desperation?
The teacher stepped forward carefully. "Mary… what's wrong?"
But before her hand could reach, Mary flinched, took a step back, bowing her head. "Sorry, Miss… I must go now. The coach is waiting. Please pardon the change of my mind. I appreciated the idea, I really do... But sometimes, we should move on, it's best for everyone..."
She paused, forcing her composure back in place. "I've already done my part. Now it's Urara's turn to do hers. And I wish her the best."
With that, Mary bowed again and dashed out of the classroom before the teacher could say another word.
The teacher remained there, frozen by her desk. She sighed.
"So that's how it is…" she murmured to herself. "I thought maybe Urara could reach her. Help her at least. Maybe I was just too harsh — too soon."
"Welp, I guess sometimes it's better mind your own damn business," said the teacher as she packed her stuff.
...
...
Meanwhile, Mary moved quickly toward the training field, her shoes striking the corridor rhythmically. She wanted to escape, running away from something, someone... but her thoughts kept betraying her.
Urara's voice.
Her laughter.
Her face.
Every fragment of memory refused to quiet down. She clenched her teeth as she continued her march.
And then, as she thought she was safe—
"Urara reports for duty!"
A pink creature leapt out before her, saluting.
The sudden voice made Mary jump.
She whirled around, clutching her chest. "Urara! Wha— What are you doing! You— you could've given me a heart attack!"
Standing there, beaming as if nothing could ever go wrong, was the pink-haired gremlin herself. Her tail flicked from side to side, proud of the chaos she caused.
Before Mary could react further, another voice joined in.
"Wait… you didn't tell me you knew her!"
Mary blinked — it was the same girl from earlier, Rushing Sky, standing beside Urara.
Urara puffed her chest, grinning wide. "Hehe! Urara is full of surprises, isn't she?"
Rush laughed, half-exasperated, half-amused. "You sure are."
But before she could talk to Urara, another voice slithered back into her mind — deep, cold, and heavy.
"How many times must I repeat myself, Mary? Have I not made myself clear enough?! You were meant to train. You were meant to be better! Not go out, waste your time away on those trivia-expanding pieces of crap!"
It was her father's.
"Just promise me you'll stay obedient. No more of that hanging out or wasting time, alright? You can do all that once you've become successful. Once you've become perfect."
The words wrapped around her neck, choking her.
Her eyes hardened. The brightness around vanished from her eyes.
Then Urara noticed that Mary was somehow standing straighter, the same way she had been before they'd ever met.
Before Urara could say another word, Mary intruded,
"I'm sorry to break it to you, Urara," she said flatly. "But we were never friends."
Urara froze. The confidence in her posture vanished in an instant, replaced by wide, confused eyes.
"Huh?"
Mary didn't flinch. "As I said, we were never friends, not now, not ever. I just can't be seen around you. I can't hang out with you. I can't be close to you. You're like a leech. Feasting on my superiority. So, from now on, let's just keep our distance and be the good strangers."
Urara's mouth opened, "Mary-chan...?" but barely anything came. Her thoughts scrambled for something — anything — to hold on to. But before she could speak, Mary went on.
"I can't tutor you anymore either," she added, turning slightly away. "From now on, you're on your own, Urara. And that's that."
Silence fell between them — heavy, fragile, cruel.
"Mary-chan…?" Urara finally whispered, her voice trembling. "Why? Is it because of last time? When we hung out? Then… I'm sor—"
"Save your sorry elsewhere, Urara."
Urara flinched.
"If you want reasons," Mary continued, "Fine! I'll give them to you."
She took a step closer. "First, you're weak. Pathetic even. You can barely make a scratch on the field, let alone compete with me. You're more likely drag me down rather than benefit me. A true ineffectual, miserable excess. Second, you're naïve — too impulsive, too careless. You make stupid decisions and drag others into your mess. Then, aggregating those mistakes into genuine trouble, shifting me to the role of a villain for some reason. Then there's your grades — tragic, really — and yet you brag like being inferior is some kind of pride. Do you have an inferiority complex or something?"
Urara stared blankly, unable to respond.
"It's embarrassing to be seen with you," Mary pressed on, "A shame, actually. So... before your feebleness can crawl onto my skin and drag me down, I'll keep my distance. That's the smart thing to do. After all, we're simply different. You and me would never, EVER, work out."
Her words were painful, but her expression — flat, emotionless — made it worse.
For a long moment, Urara didn't move. She just stood there, her eyes empty, her mind still trying to catch up.
Meanwhile, Mary was already gasping for air after those rants. "Is that enough?" she said. "If so, step aside. I need to go."
She turned, brushing past Urara's shoulder without another glance.
Thinking it was over... Everything they built, the memories, the friendship, should all be crumbling down by now. How it should've always been.
But then—
"Then!" Urara's voice suddenly erupted behind her, causing Mary to stop. "If I can beat you in the race… will you be my friend?"
Mary didn't turn.
Urara took a step forward, her fists clenched, her voice louder this time. "If I, Urara, beat Mary-chan in the open race, will Mary-chan swear to be Urara's friend?!"
They paused, stood in a long silence.
Finally, Mary turned her head just slightly — enough for her eyes to meet Urara's.
"…W— We'll see," she said softly. Then she walked away, her figure disappearing down the path.
Urara stood there for a moment longer, her chest burning — not from anger, but from determination.
Mary's words stung, yes. But rather than breaking her, they ignited something inside.
She clenched her fists. "Then I'll just prove it to you, Mary-chan…" she whispered. "You'll see. You'll see that befriending Urara is the greatest choice you will ever have."
Meanwhile, at her side, Rush's expression darkened. She had watched it all, every cruel word, every look of superiority.
She was somehow more upset than Urara. "How dare she..." she muttered. "How dare she speak to you like that! Just because she's better doesn't mean she is better!"
Then, grabbing Urara's wrist, she pulled her away from the spot. "Come on, Urara. Let's go. She doesn't deserve your time — or your friendship."
"She doesn't belong beside you," Rush added fiercely. "Not now. Not ever. A person like her should rot in crap!"
"Wait, Rush-chan!" Urara protested, but didn't stop. She just looked down at her shoes as Rush led her away.
Meanwhile, behind them, Mary stayed.
Half-hidden by the shadows of the school building, she watched the two of them leave — Rush's hand still holding Urara's wrist, their figures shrinking into the distance.
Her eyes softened, just for a moment.
"Good…" she whispered under her breath.
"Stay away from me, Urara…"
"It's better this way..."