Hachiman's POV
"Yes!" I pumped a fist.
"...I lost," Kuronuma muttered beside me.
"I can't tell who took second between Bourbon and Tannhauser yet," Minamisaka added, eyes glued to the monitors. "We'll have to wait for the photo finish. But it looked like Bourbon had the edge for the runner-up spot."
Kuronuma let out a short, dry breath. "Hmph. Well, Hikigaya, you got me this time. I think we gave it a hell of a run, but I suppose the distance suitability was the deciding factor."
"Yeah," I said, turning to him. "But let's settle the score in the next race. Between the Satsuki, the Derby, and this, we're sitting at one win, one draw, and one loss each."
"True. I'll make sure Bourbon is even sharper by then. Next time, the win is mine."
"I'm counting on it."
"U-um... excuse me, gentlemen," Minamisaka interrupted, his voice hushed. "I hate to break up the moment, but... doesn't something feel wrong? The atmosphere... look at the crowd."
The atmosphere?
Now that he mentioned it... the stadium was eerily quiet. For a Grade I race—the pinnacle of the season—there wasn't a single cheer. It was worse than silence. It was a thick, heavy tension, filled with the low hum of thousands of people whispering to one another. It was a foul, suffocating air.
"What is this?" I asked, looking down at the stands. "Do you guys know what's going on?"
"No," Kuronuma said, his brow furrowed. "I've never seen anything like this in my career."
"Me neither," Minamisaka agreed. "It's... uncanny."
My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a call from Kiryuin.
"Yeah, Hikigaya here."
"Hikigaya-kun! Where are you right now?!" Aoi's voice was frantic.
"In the trainer's section of the stands. Why? What happened?"
"That explains why you're so calm... It's better if I tell you now. I'm at the Kyoto track too, but I'm down in the general seating. The people around me... they aren't cheering. They're... they're devastated. And some of them are saying horrible things about Rice Shower-san."
"What? Why?! What the hell for?"
"Everyone was dreaming of Bourbon-san's Triple Crown. When Rice-san took the lead, that dream died... and since Tokai Teio-san had to withdraw last year due to that fracture, I think the fans' expectations for a 'Hero' were even higher this time. They're taking their disappointment out on her..."
So that was it? Because they didn't get to see their precious Triple Crown, they were going to act like this? Are you kidding me? This was nothing but their own selfish entitlement.
"And Hikigaya-kun... I heard it. People were shouting at the track. 'I came here to see Mihono Bourbon win!' and 'I shouldn't have come if this was the result!' The words they're using... they're cruel."
My heart stopped. Rice.
"RICE!"
I ignored the trainers and scanned the track from the stands. I found her quickly. She was walking back toward the tunnel, but her shoulders were hunched, and her head was bowed. She looked so tiny—like she was trying to shrink until she disappeared entirely.
"Sorry, Kiryuin, I have to go." I clicked the phone shut. "Excuse me, I need to get to her."
"Go," Kuronuma said, his face dark. "This is bad."
"Get to her as fast as you can," Minamisaka urged.
I didn't answer. I just ran.
— The Waiting Room —
I didn't even have to open the door to know. The air in the hallway was like lead.
"Rice? It's me. Can I come in?"
"...You can... come in..."
The voice hit me like a physical blow. I threw the door open. Rice should have been celebrating the greatest achievement of her life, but there wasn't a trace of joy in that room. It was the exact opposite. Her ears were pinned flat against her head, her tail was limp, and she was facing away from me, refusing to meet my eyes.
"..."
"Rice... I know I shouldn't even have to ask, but tell me. Did you hear them? The people in the stands?"
She didn't speak. She just gave a single, slow nod.
"...I see."
The crowd's "expectations" hadn't included her winning. They wanted to witness the "undefeated legend" of Mihono Bourbon. But that gave them absolutely no right to say what they said.
— The Interview —
The post-race interview was a nightmare.
Interviewer: "A victory in the Kikuka-sho! How does it feel to win today?"
Interviewer: "You successfully blocked Mihono Bourbon-san's bid for the Triple Crown. Tell us about that."
Interviewer: "Winning against such a major rival must feel special, doesn't it?"
They were following a script, but to my ears, every question sounded like an accusation. "Why did you ruin the story?" was the subtext. With every word, Rice's expression grew darker, her light fading.
Even the Winning Live was hollow. Instead of cheering for the winner, the crowd spent the time chanting for Bourbon, offering her "encouragement" and "consolation." The scattered cheers for Rice were drowned out by the sheer volume of the disappointment directed at the girl who had actually won.
— On the Train Home —
Rice stared out the window at the passing lights.
"..."
"..."
We had won. We had settled the score. And yet, this was the atmosphere we were left with. How can a G1 victory feel like a funeral? It wasn't right. Rice deserved better than this.
"...Hey, Big Brother?" Rice whispered, her voice trembling. "Maybe... maybe it would have been better if I hadn't run at all?"
"Don't you dare say that," I snapped, more sharply than I intended. "That's complete bullshit. Don't you listen to those people. Did you stop Bourbon's Triple Crown? Yes. You did. But that's their problem, not yours. We gave everything we had to this race, and you won because you were better. Period."
I leaned forward, making sure she was looking at me.
"I don't care what anyone else says. I am celebrating your victory. Those people in the stands? They're just a mindless rabble throwing a tantrum because their fan-fiction didn't come true. If they wanted to see a Triple Crown that badly, tell them to go out and run 3,000 meters themselves."
"...U-um. Okay."
"It's going to be fine," I said, softening my voice. "There were people out there who believed in you, too. I was one of them. I knew you could win. You gave it your all, Rice. You should be proud. Stand tall."
"...Thank you, Big Brother."
She said the words, but I could see she was still crushed. With a personality like hers, logic wasn't going to be enough to heal the wound. I stared at her, my mind racing. How do I fix this? How do I protect her from the world's selfishness?
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