The next few days at the house became… strange.
It wasn't the loud, chaotic type of strange that usually followed Namawa's antics or Saiya's impulsive ideas. This was something quieter. Something far more uncomfortable.
Something painfully, unmistakably awkward.
It began immediately after the incident at the training track, though nobody ever spoke about it directly. No arguments broke out, no accusations were thrown across the room, and yet the tension still settled over the house like a thin layer of fog that refused to lift. It lingered quietly in the spaces between conversations and stretched itself into pauses that lasted just a little too long.
And at the center of it all was Anonym. Or rather—her complete and deliberate absence from Lunar's world.
It all started when Anonym began arriving earlier than usual to the training sessions, finishing her routines with the same mechanical focus she always had, but leaving the track just moments before Lunar could approach her. If Lunar showed up on the field while she was still there, Anonym would suddenly decide to run in a different lane or move to another part of the field entirely, stretching somewhere else while carefully keeping her back turned.
It wasn't loud hostility, it was colder than that.
It was silence, complete and utter silence.
At the dinner table, the change was even more noticeable.
Normally, Anonym would fight for the seat beside Lunar without a second thought. Sometimes she would quietly share food from Lunar's plate, and other times she would lean lightly into Lunar's shoulder while listening to the others talk, her calm presence close enough that Lunar could feel the warmth beside her.
But now she chose the seats farthest away.
Her demeanor remained calm and detached as always while she ate with quiet focus, responding plainly whenever someone spoke to her. She laughed softly at some of Namawa's jokes, exchanged short comments with Saiya, and even answered Persian's occasional remarks.
Yet whenever Lunar was involved, it was like she was avoiding the plague itself.
If Lunar spoke directly to her, Anonym didn't react.
If Lunar laughed at something Namawa said, Anonym kept her gaze on her plate.
If Lunar tried to pull her into a conversation, Anonym would respond to someone else instead, smoothly redirecting her attention elsewhere without even glancing in Lunar's direction.
The avoidance was so precise that it almost felt rehearsed, like she had carefully thought through every possible situation where their paths might cross… and deliberately planned how to step around it.
Even the living room, which had always been the center of their daily chaos, felt subtly wrong.
In the evenings, when everyone usually gathered there to relax after training, the room still filled with the usual sounds—Invi complaining loudly about something trivial, Saiya and Namawa laughing at their own jokes, and Persian occasionally stepping in to restore order when things got too loud. On the surface, everything looked normal.
But something in the atmosphere had shifted.
Anonym would sit quietly at the far end of the couch, a book resting in her hands or her phone balanced loosely in her palm. She listened to the conversations happening around her and responded whenever someone spoke to her directly, yet she never once looked in Lunar's direction.
Not even by accident. It was as though an invisible wall had been placed between them.
And then there was the most scandalous change of all.
For the past few days…
Anonym had not slept in Lunar's bed.
Not once.
Instead, she had been sleeping in her own room. Alone.
Which, to anyone familiar with Anonym's sleeping habits, was practically unheard of.
For the past year and a half, Lunar's bed had essentially belonged to Anonym more than it belonged to Lunar herself. At the beginning, she had only sneaked into the room quietly in the middle of the night, slipping under the covers with the careful stealth of someone trying not to be noticed. Lunar would often wake up in the morning to find her there without ever realizing when she had arrived.
But over time, that small bit of hesitation had gradually disappeared. Eventually, Anonym stopped pretending altogether.
Some nights she would simply walk into Lunar's room hours before bedtime, lie down across the mattress with complete shamelessness, and claim the bed as her own long before Lunar had even finished brushing her teeth.
It had become such a normal part of life that nobody questioned it anymore, even if Saiya occasionally complained loudly about the unfairness of it all.
Which was exactly why the silence of the past few nights felt so wrong.
The other side of Lunar's bed had remained untouched, the pillow still perfectly placed and the blanket neatly folded exactly where it had been left.
No quiet footsteps in the hallway, no soft rustling of sheets, and no pale figure slipping beneath the covers like a ghost returning to its favorite resting place.
Nothing.
And somehow, that quiet absence made Anonym's anger clearer than anything she could have said out loud.
Lunar thought about all of it as she lay on her bed, one arm tucked behind her head while the other held her phone lazily above her face. Her thumb moved almost automatically as she scrolled through Umagram reels, though the absent look in her eyes made it clear she wasn't really paying attention to most of what passed across the screen.
The room was quiet.
Only the soft sound of the air conditioner filled the air, occasionally interrupted by the faint swipe of her thumb against the glass screen.
The first video that appeared was a fluffy orange cat dramatically falling off the edge of a table while overly intense orchestral music played in the background. The cat landed with an indignant thump before glaring at the camera as if it had personally betrayed it.
Lunar snorted quietly under her breath and scrolled past it.
The next clip was another cat, this time wearing a tiny racing bib while sprinting wildly across someone's living room floor as its owner cheered in the background like it had just won the Melbourne Cup. Lunar paused for half a second before flicking past that one as well.
Then the next video loaded. This time it wasn't a cat.
The screen filled with bright stage lights and flashing cameras. A large crowd surrounded a podium while reporters pushed forward with microphones raised high. Standing at the center of it all was a green-haired Uma Musume whose sharp smile carried the kind of confidence that only came from knowing exactly how good you were.
She lifted a golden trophy above her head as the audience erupted into cheers.
The caption beneath the video read:
"Australia's Uma Musume of the Year – Nature Strip!"
Lunar blinked once, immediately recognizing her.
Nature Strip.
The record-breaking Australian sprinter whose explosive speed had dominated headlines over the past year.
The video replayed the moment she accepted the award, her bright grin flashing beneath the stage lights as she waved confidently to the crowd while reporters shouted questions up toward her.
Lunar watched for a moment before her thumb drifted down toward the comments… and immediately regretted it.
The section was already a battlefield.
"Overrated."
"Best sprinter in the world right now and it's not even close."
"She'd get destroyed by Black Caviar."
"Nature Strip clears your washed-up legend."
"Black Caviar went undefeated for four whole years. Sit down, kid."
The replies spiraled deeper and deeper into endless argument threads. People were quoting race statistics, linking old race footage, and writing entire paragraphs explaining why one was superior to the other.
Lunar scrolled a little further down as the chaos intensified.
Despite the constant back-and-forth, the comments defending Black Caviar were clearly winning by a landslide. Thousands of likes stacked beneath posts praising the undefeated legend, while long chains of replies tore apart nearly every comparison someone tried to make.
And yet the arguments continued anyway.
Relentlessly.
Lunar stared at the screen for another second before letting out a quiet huff through her nose. "People really have nothing better to do…" she muttered under her breath.
With a small flick of her thumb, she closed the app and locked her phone.
The screen went black.
For a moment, only Lunar's faint reflection stared back at her from the dark surface of the phone. Her face looked slightly distorted in the glossy glass, the dim lighting of the room making her eyes appear deeper than usual.
Then the digital clock appeared.
00:12
Underneath it, the date glowed softly in white text.
2 October
Lunar stared at the numbers for several seconds, the quiet weight of that date settling slowly in her chest.
She let out a long breath. "Gimcrack Stakes…" The words slipped softly into the empty room.
It was no longer just something sitting somewhere in the future. Now… It was officially tomorrow.
And with it came the race that would decide everything between her and Anonym.
Lunar was still staring at the dark screen of her phone when a soft knock suddenly broke the silence.
Knock knock.
She blinked in mild surprise and lifted her head slightly toward the door. A familiar voice followed from the other side, gentle and calm. "Lunar? Are you awake?"
Lunar recognized it instantly. "Yeah, Aunt Nel. I am," she replied, pushing herself up slightly against the pillows.
There was a small pause before the voice spoke again. "May I come in?"
Lunar glanced toward the door and nodded instinctively, even though the person outside couldn't see it. "Yeah, you can come in."
The door opened slowly, careful not to make any unnecessary noise.
Black Caviar stepped inside with her usual calming presence, gently closing the door behind her before walking across the room. Her long dark hair swayed lightly behind her with each step while the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light across her sharp features.
She stopped beside the bed and looked down at Lunar, a small knowing smile resting on her lips. "Not asleep yet?" she asked gently.
Lunar shook her head. "Can't seem to," she admitted quietly.
Black Caviar's expression softened, the faint smile on her lips turning gently sympathetic. She reached out and brushed her fingers lightly through Lunar's hair, smoothing a few loose strands away from her face with a slow, familiar motion that carried quiet comfort with it.
"Is something bothering you?" she asked softly.
Then, with a small playful gesture, she raised one hand and pointed toward her own ears, which were slightly larger than average even for an Uma Musume. "I'm all ears."
Lunar blinked once before letting out a small laugh. "Wow… that was terrible."
Black Caviar simply smiled in response, looking completely satisfied that she had at least managed to get a reaction out of her.
But the laughter faded quickly.
The lightness in Lunar's expression slowly gave way to something heavier, and she lowered her gaze to her hands resting on the blanket for a moment before speaking again. "I'm just… worried that I might be making the wrong choice."
Black Caviar tilted her head slightly. "What do you mean?"
Lunar let out a slow breath, her fingers tightening a little around the edge of the blanket as she tried to put the feeling into words.
"I know there's an easier way out of all this," she said. "You already told me before. I could just wait until next year and get registered directly into the JRA without having to go through all of this trouble."
Her voice remained quiet, though the determination inside it hadn't disappeared. "But this…" she continued slowly, "…this is a choice I want to make."
She lifted her eyes again. "Whether it ends up being the right decision or not, it's still something I want to do."
For a moment she paused, her gaze drifting unconsciously toward the door as if she were thinking about someone who wasn't there.
"But I can't help having second thoughts," she admitted.
Black Caviar didn't interrupt her. She simply listened.
Lunar sighed softly. "Seeing how Anonym's been acting around me lately…" she murmured. "I keep wondering if it's really worth it."
Her voice dropped a little lower toward the end of the sentence. "I'm worried that this might cause damage to our relationship that we can't fix."
The room fell quiet for a moment after she finished speaking.
Black Caviar's hand was still resting gently on Lunar's head, her fingers slowly brushing through her hair in calm, steady motions while she considered the words.
Then she spoke. "Tell me something first," she said calmly. "Do you genuinely believe in the choice you're making?"
Lunar gave a small but firm nod. "Yes."
Black Caviar's lips curved slightly upward. "Then that belief alone is enough to make it the correct choice," she replied simply. "Even if the world later decides it was the wrong one."
Lunar blinked slightly at the answer, the pressure sitting on her chest easing just a little. Hearing it said so plainly seemed to settle something inside her, even if it was only by a small amount.
Black Caviar continued speaking, her tone calm and confident as if the matter had never been particularly complicated to begin with.
"And besides," she added casually, "Anonym doesn't actually hate you."
Lunar looked up at her.
"If anything," Black Caviar went on, "the fact that she's this angry about you leaving only proves how much she actually cares about you."
Lunar slowly nodded.
"I see…" But even as she said it, the uncertainty hadn't completely left her eyes.
Black Caviar noticed it as she then let out a small sigh before leaning back slightly against the bedside. "If I were in Anonym's position," she continued, "and Guair suddenly told me she was leaving like that, I'd probably react the exact same way."
She glanced down at Lunar with a knowing look. "And you know how much I love your mother."
Lunar frowned slightly before shaking her head. "That's not really a fair comparison though," she said honestly.
Black Caviar raised a brow.
Lunar hesitated for a moment as she tried to explain what she meant. "Your love for Momma is… different," she said carefully.
She paused briefly before finishing the thought. "It's deeply romantic, that soul-bound and undying kind of love."
Then she gave a small shrug. "But Anonym's love for me is just… found family, I guess. Or maybe it's more like a friendship."
Black Caviar stared at her. For a moment she said absolutely nothing. Inside her head, however, a single thought surfaced immediately.
…Is she dense?
She blinked slowly, suddenly replaying countless small memories in her mind—How Anonym followed Lunar everywhere, how that quiet daughter of hers had claimed Lunar's bed like it belonged to her, the quiet way her usually detached blue eyes softened into focus whenever she looked at the silver-haired girl.
That child of mine does not see you as "just a friend," Black Caviar thought silently. Not even remotely.
For a brief moment she considered saying it out loud, but then she stopped herself. No… that probably wasn't something she should interfere with.
Some things were better realized naturally. So instead she cleared her throat lightly and chose a much safer explanation.
"Well," she said, shifting the direction of the conversation slightly, "you could also think of it another way."
Lunar looked up at her curiously.
"Anonym sees you as her goal." Black Caviar explained. "Or maybe more accurately… as a rival."
Lunar repeated the word slowly. "…Rival?"
Black Caviar nodded.
"Of course she would be angry," she said calmly. "From her perspective, the person she most wants to race against just announced she's leaving before the race the two of you had planned to run together."
She paused briefly before adding with a small shrug. "And honestly… if I were in that situation, I'd be upset too."
That explanation seemed to settle into Lunar's thoughts much more clearly than the earlier one had. She sat there quietly for a moment, turning the idea over in her mind while her fingers absentmindedly traced small patterns across the blanket.
After a short pause, she finally spoke again. "If I win tomorrow…" Her voice was soft, almost tentative. "Do you think that will settle it?"
She looked up at Black Caviar as she asked the question, searching the older woman's face as though hoping to find a definitive answer there.
"Do you think Anonym will finally accept me leaving in October?" she continued. "I really want to avoid leaving like this without getting everyone's approval first."
Black Caviar didn't respond right away.
Instead, she folded her arms loosely and leaned back slightly against the bedside, her gaze drifting toward the floor as she carefully considered the question. She was quiet for several seconds, thinking through the situation in the calm, deliberate way she always did when something truly mattered.
Finally, she spoke. "If you win…" Her voice was slow and thoughtful, as though she was choosing each word carefully before letting it leave her mouth.
Her eyes lifted again, settling back onto Lunar. "…and you win so decisively that Anonym can no longer deny the difference between you and her."
She paused briefly, allowing the weight of that statement to settle. "If you win in a way that makes it undeniable that her 'rival' is still far beyond her reach…" she continued calmly, "…then yes."
Lunar listened without interrupting.
Black Caviar's voice softened slightly as she finished the thought. "Because at that point, Anonym will understand something important."
Her gaze remained steady on Lunar's face. "She'll realize that she has to let you go."
Lunar stayed silent, her eyes lowering slightly as she absorbed the meaning behind those words.
Black Caviar gave a small shrug, though there was nothing dismissive about the gesture. "After all," she said lightly, "you can't hold on to someone who's already racing far ahead of you."
Then she added, a little more quietly,
"And someone like Anonym would never want to chain down the person she's chasing either. If she truly sees you as her rival, then the moment she recognizes the distance between you… she'll accept that the only thing she can do is keep running forward alone until she finally catches up."
Lunar stared at Black Caviar for a moment after hearing her words, letting them settle slowly in her mind. Then, with a quiet exhale, she muttered, "…That's kind of evil, Aunt Nel…"
Black Caviar only shrugged, as though the accusation barely registered with her.
"It's just the truth," she said calmly, her voice steady and frank. "If you want to truly get a hold of something, it's not enough to simply keep up with it."
Her gaze drifted briefly, thoughtful. "You have to overwhelm it. You have to control it. You have to have the strength to reach out and take it whenever you want."
She tapped the side of the mattress lightly with one finger, emphasizing her words with that small, meaningful gesture. "That's how I stayed at the top for so long."
Her voice was calm, but each word carried the weight of experience, the kind of certainty that could only come from having lived through it.
"All those self-proclaimed rivals chasing me for years," she continued, her tone softening slightly, "they were always just that—chasing."
A faint smile touched her lips. "They could run behind me, push themselves to close the gap… but none of them ever had the strength to actually seize the throne."
Her gaze softened as it drifted briefly to a distant memory. "Even someone like Hay List," she murmured quietly, "she came second to me multiple times. She pushed harder than almost anyone else."
For a brief second, her eyes held a flicker of something almost tender. "But even then… she never defeated me."
Her gaze lowered, and a fleeting thought passed through her mind—one that she almost allowed herself to linger on. Only one person had ever truly done it. And that person… had been the one she had loved the deepest.
The thought vanished as quickly as it came, leaving only the quiet room and the soft hum of the air conditioner.
Black Caviar exhaled softly, then reached out to give Lunar a gentle pat on the shoulder. She pushed herself up from the bedside, stretching lightly as she straightened up.
"Anyway," she said, her tone lighter now, "don't think about any of that tonight."
Her blue eyes settled on Lunar's with that calm, comforting warmth that always made her feel safe. "For now, just focus on one thing."
Lunar blinked, the words slowly sinking in.
"Win," Black Caviar said simply, as though the command were as natural as breathing.
Lunar nodded softly, finally understanding the full weight of what her aunt was telling her. "…Un," she whispered, her voice quiet but determined.
A small, approving smile curved Black Caviar's lips. She leaned down one last time, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of Lunar's head. "Good night, little moon."
Lunar's lips curved into a faint, contented smile at the familiar nickname. "Good night, Aunt Nel," she replied softly.
Black Caviar turned and walked toward the door, opening it quietly before stepping out into the dim hallway. She paused only long enough to gently close the door behind her.
The room fell silent again, but this time the quiet felt different. It wasn't the empty, heavy sort of silence that pressed on Lunar's chest in the past days. It was lighter, almost comforting, as if the words Black Caviar had spoken still lingered in the air, easing some of the tension in her mind as she closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
—
When Lunar opened her eyes again, the familiar darkness of her bedroom was gone. The vividness of that night's encounter—the gentle warmth of Black Caviar's presence, the soothing touch on her hair, the quiet determination in her voice—faded, replaced by a new, steady rhythm beneath her.
A soft vibration thrummed through the seat, the unmistakable movement of a vehicle. Lunar blinked once and slowly realized where she was. She was sitting in the back of a private van, the subtle rumble of the engine filling the quiet space around her. Outside, the city slipped by in streaks of early morning light, tinted slightly through the van's windows. "Oh, I fell asleep…"
They were heading to Randwick Racecourse, the stage for the Gimcrack Stakes. Lunar's very first group race.
It might be only a Group 3, restricted to yearling fillies, but that didn't make it any less significant. For countless young uma musumes, this was the first real step into the spotlight, a chance to prove themselves among the rising names of their generation.
For Lunar, though, today carried a weight far beyond trophies or prize money. Something far more personal was at stake.
She shifted slightly and glanced at the seat beside her.
Anonym was there, seated perfectly still, staring out the window as if the passing city had nothing to do with her. Her expression remained calm, distant, utterly unreadable, like she was observing a world completely separate from Lunar's.
And, just as she had for the past few days, she hadn't so much as uttered a single word to Lunar.
The silence between them stretched on, unbroken, and Lunar could feel the weight of it pressing in from all sides. The only other person in the van was the driver, separated from them by a thick pane of glass. The faint hum of a radio on the other side of the partition barely penetrated the quiet, leaving Lunar and Anonym alone in their own cocoon of tension.
Lunar's gaze lingered on Anonym. She couldn't help but wonder if Aunt Nel had orchestrated this, deliberately placing them together in the same van to force some sort of reconciliation—or at least a confrontation.
So far, whatever Aunt Nel had planned hadn't worked. Anonym was still as distant as ever, her presence both near and impossibly far. Lunar exhaled softly, leaning back against the seat with a quiet sigh. Half an hour remained in this oppressive silence. Half an hour to find some way to bridge the gulf, if she even could.
Her mind cycled through a dozen different ideas, each one collapsing the moment she tried to grab onto it. None of them felt right.
Then suddenly, a memory surfaced. It was… something her mother used to say.
"If talking doesn't work on someone… try adding a little melody to it. At least that way, you might catch their attention~"
Lunar blinked, staring at the tinted window for a moment. "…You've got to be kidding me," she muttered quietly to herself.
The thought of singing—right now, after almost an hour of tense silence and her practically sleeping through—made her stomach twist. She could already imagine Anonym turning her head in horror, or worse, laughing. Her face heated just thinking about it.
And yet… she couldn't think of anything better. Words had failed. Maybe a song could pierce the wall that had built up between them.
She rubbed the back of her neck slowly, glancing at Anonym again. Still looking out the window. Still pretending she wasn't even there.
A quiet sigh escaped her lips. "…Screw it," she murmured under her breath. It's not like I have any other choice.
Lunar let herself lean back against the van seat for a moment, closing her eyes as she searched her memory for a song.
Several options flickered in her mind.
…No, not that one.
That one had way too many curse words in it, and she definitely could not hit the higher notes even if her life depended on it.
Another floated up. Absolutely not. That one was so saccharinely cheerful it made her cringe just imagining herself singing it aloud. Her cheeks burned at the thought.
She continued digging through the small library of songs she remembered, quietly rejecting one after another as the seconds ticked by.
And then, finally, one stayed..
A simple one.
Not overly dramatic. Not overly happy either.
Just… honest.
It had always been one of her favorites.
Partly because the song itself resonated with her, and partly because the person who had sung it originally was someone she admired deeply.
That someone being Oguri Cap.
The memory of the ashen-haired monster singing the song during an old broadcast replay surfaced clearly in her mind, and Lunar felt a small spark of courage flicker inside her chest.
"…Alright," she whispered quietly.
She closed her eyes for a moment and took a slow breath, preparing herself as if she were about to step onto the starting gate.
Then she swallowed the last bit of embarrassment that lingered in her throat.
And she sang. (The song is Mugen/Infinity the ending for season 1 of Cinderella Gray if you want to listen to it while reading this)
"I run as I feel…"
Her voice came out soft, steady, and surprisingly soothing, carrying easily through the quiet interior of the van.
The suddenness of it completely caught Anonym off guard. For the first time in what felt like months, she turned her head and looked directly at Lunar.
Lunar didn't notice as her eyes were still closed as she leaned her head slightly back against the seat, her voice flowing smoothly into the next line.
"I run as I feel,
It's the only thing I know how to do."
The words were simple, but Lunar carried them with a quiet ease, letting the melody settle naturally around her. It wasn't forced. It wasn't polished to perfection. It was as instinctive as breathing, as effortless as running, flowing from her chest and out into the small space of the van.
Anonym blinked, caught completely off guard. I've never heard her sing before…
She had spent two years constantly alongside Lunar—training together, sharing meals, even sleeping in the same bed nearly every night. And yet, not once had she ever heard this voice, clear and unassuming, fill the air around her.
Now, hearing it, Anonym felt something quietly shift inside her. She's… really good.
Not like a professional polished to a gleaming perfection, but this sounded… natural. Lunar's voice carried warmth and clarity, each note finding its place effortlessly, filled with an authenticity that made the singing feel alive.
Lunar's voice dipped slightly, pulling Anonym deeper into the story she was singing.
"The very first time in my life I said…
Maybe I should just quit…"
Her tone softened here, fragile and hesitant, yet entirely sincere.
"The moment I said it aloud,
The world before my eyes went completely dark."
There was weight in the words, a memory bleeding into melody, as though Lunar were reliving a moment she had once feared would break her.
"That morning…
When the reasons I'd slowly come to believe in
Spoke to me."
Her voice steadied, carrying quiet resilience now.
"Even my tail said…
We can't lose now."
And then, without missing a beat, the tune swelled gently into the chorus.
"I live just the way I feel…
I live just the way I feel…"
The van somehow seemed to hum beneath the notes, creating a low, steady vibration that seemed to harmonize with her voice.
"Through the thick endless fog
I dash blindly ahead…"
Determination threaded every word that escaped out of Lunar's mouth.
"That's all I can do…
This is all I can do…"
And softly, with quiet certainty, she closed the line.
"It's the only thing I know how to do."
Anonym remained motionless, though her mind raced.
It wasn't just the words, or the melody. Even without music, without instruments, without anything to accompany it, Lunar's singing felt complete. It was as if the air itself, the van, the buzz of the tires on asphalt, all became part of the song. Every word resonated, carrying an unspoken force that demanded her attention.
For the first time in days, Anonym's gaze lifted from her stubborn thoughts, drawn inexorably to the girl she had consciously avoided. And there she remained, eyes closed, shoulders relaxed, completely immersed in the simple truth of her song.
For a fleeting moment, the tension that had existed within her—the anger, the frustration, the cold silence of the past few days, was gone. The van, the road, even time itself seemed to pause, held in the space of Lunar's voice.
Anonym could feel it. Deeply. Somehow, impossibly… she could feel the melody threading into her chest, into the part of her that had been too stubborn to speak. And for the first time, she realized something she hadn't dared acknowledge.
She was listening.
Lunar slowly opened her eyes as the last few trails of the chorus drifted into the quiet buzz around her.. For a heartbeat, she just blinked at the soft light filtering through the tinted window, letting the melody settle in the space around her.
Then she saw it.
Anonym was looking at her.
Not through the window. Not past her. At her.
Her usual composure, the cold wall she had built for days, had crumbled, leaving her blue eyes wide and faintly dazed. It was as if the song had pulled her from some hidden depth, and now, for the first time in days, the barrier of silence and resentment between them had cracked.
Something fluttered in Lunar's chest. Tightened into something fragile, yet hopeful.
Finally… you're looking at me.
Summoning a little more courage, she lifted her head fully and met Anonym's gaze directly. Even as the melody of her singing had been put on pause for a while, she allowed the final words of the lines to flow naturally once more.
"On a night when I spotted you in the morning glow…
I wasn't afraid."
Her voice remains gentle as she directly conveys it to Anonym.
"In the middle of infinity… there's only one thing…"
The space inside the van seemed to shrink around them, like it was conspiring to hold the moment still.
"The loneliness inside me…
And the loneliness inside you…"
The words lingered, a quiet bridge between them.
"They run together on a single line…
Until they meet."
Lunar's gaze never faltered. Her pale yellow eyes remained locked on Anonym's, letting the unspoken weight of the lyrics settle between them. And then, as the song came to its natural close, silence returned—not cold or empty, but charged and alive with emotions.
Neither of them looked away.
The cold distance that had plagued Anonym for days melted gradually, replaced by something far more complicated. Her expression softened, the sharp edges of anger smoothing into lines of guilt and something else—something unspoken and raw.
For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the air thick with quiet understanding, and then Lunar broke the silence.
"I will win."
Her voice was calm, yet firm, carrying the certainty of someone who had made her choice and would see it through.
Anonym's breath caught softly, her lips parting slightly as if she had words she didn't know how to speak. She didn't move away. She didn't look down as she let herself be seen—completely and without pretense.
For a heartbeat, the smaller girl seemed frozen, her lips parting as if to respond, but no words came.
Before she could speak, Lunar reached forward.Her hand found Anonym's and lifted it gently, holding it between them. Their hands met at eye level, bridging the quiet distance that had seemed insurmountable.
Anonym's eyes widened slightly, startled by the sudden contact, but she didn't pull away as Lunar met her gaze with calm intensity.
"Not just the race," she said softly, letting her words hang between them. Her fingers tightened slightly around Anonym's hand. "Your heart too." She paused, letting the phrase linger. "…So that it has no problem accepting me."
The words were simple, but vague enough to carry multiple meanings, leaving the space between them charged with questions and unspoken words.
A faint warmth rose to Anonym's cheeks. She hesitated, letting herself process the meaning of Lunar's words, before lifting her chin slowly. Her sapphire gaze met Lunar's, deep and heavy, yet softened by a subtle blush.
"…No," she said quietly, her voice low but unyielding. "I will win."
There was a stubbornness to it, a quiet determination that mirrored the fire in Lunar's eyes. But the faint pink creeping across her cheeks betrayed the vulnerability she tried to hide.
And as her fingers tightened around Lunar's, a silent thought settled deep in her heart.
"Because you… the one I'm chasing… already have my heart completely in your hands."