After Artisan Bell and Oguri Roman left, the lights in the hospital room dimmed. The chatter and footsteps that had been drifting in from the hallway earlier now fell completely silent.
Dream Weaver stood before the open window, gazing at the bright moon, thinking to herself that at least the surroundings weren't too bad this time.
Sure, she'd still have to wait around bored until morning, but at least it was indoors—wasn't that much better than some graveyard exposed to wind and rain?
Not that wind or rain really affected her in her current state anyway.
Just as Dream Weaver's mind began to wander, and she instinctively looked toward the trees outside the window to count leaves and kill time, a flash of gold suddenly caught the corner of her eye.
Moonlight spilled down like silver gauze, tracing a dazzling golden glow in the darkness. Dream Weaver's pupils shrank abruptly as she stared in disbelief at that flowing golden light moving through the night.
That hair seemed almost brought to life by the moonlight, like liquid gold tracing an enchanting arc in the breeze.
Under the moon, that golden hair—this strange, uncanny, bewitching scene made Dream Weaver feel as though she were witnessing a legendary vampire.
Then the golden figure leaped up from behind a tree, gracefully arcing past the window before landing with one knee on the ground, bathed in moonlight like a monarch embraced by glory. Finally getting a clear look at the newcomer, Dream Weaver could only twitch her lips speechlessly.
She thought only Gold Ship was capable of something like this.
Then again, maybe all the Gold-family Uma Musume were like this?
Orfevre expressionlessly raised a hand, her posture still carrying that innate elegance and dignity etched deep in her bones. Her movements were calm and unhurried, as though she weren't merely brushing off an ordinary leaf that had settled in her golden hair, but removing a heavy crown symbolizing ultimate authority.
Watching Orfevre like this, Dream Weaver tugged at the corner of her mouth, wondering if her initial judgment had been off.
She was even starting to entertain an absurd thought: back during the Japan Derby, Dream Weaver had believed Orfevre could activate the Challenger's Badge because her Intelligence and Strength attributes absolutely exceeded B-rank by a full tier, while either her Speed or Stamina had reached S-rank.
Now, she was starting to suspect that maybe both Orfevre's Speed and Stamina had been S-rank back then.
Otherwise, why would she be climbing trees in the middle of the night just to jump into a hospital room?
Even if all the great champions had a habit of visiting people at night, with the influence of the Gold family name, wouldn't it be normal to just call ahead and get permission to enter properly?!
Just as Dream Weaver was lost in confusion, Orfevre—now finished tidying the stray leaves from her person—finally spoke.
"I did not have time to acquire a gift on this occasion."
"It shall be provided at a later time."
Her tone was as natural as if she were casually greeting a friend. Then she sat down beside Dream Weaver, studying her sleeping face as she continued.
"Let us resume our previous discussion. Gold Ship wishes to challenge the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe once more. As you know, she has always looked up to you and me. Not only has she adopted the Great Chase style you used in the Japan Derby, but it seems she also wishes to inherit the glory I earned at the Arc."
Orfevre spoke as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if their conversation had never been interrupted.
Beside her, Dream Weaver crossed her arms and shook her head in disbelief.
She could believe that Gold Ship might choose a Great Chase because of her, but Dream Weaver absolutely refused to believe that Gold Ship held any kind of admiration for her older sister. Dream Weaver had spent plenty of time with Gold Ship, and not once had she ever heard the girl mention Orfevre's name.
Watching Orfevre's expressionless yet inexplicably confident face, Dream Weaver felt certain this was yet another case of her being self-absorbed and overthinking things.
Whatever Gold Ship's reasons were for going to the Arc, Dream Weaver knew it definitely wasn't the one Orfevre was suggesting.
"We took her to Europe in recent days to acclimatize. We have only just returned to Japan."
"But at least I am not late."
Hearing this, Dream Weaver frowned skeptically. Could it be that Orfevre had come this way because she didn't have time to notify the hospital?
Her question, of course, went unvoiced and unanswered.
Orfevre simply sat at Dream Weaver's bedside, recounting bit by bit the stories from her recent time in Europe.
How Gold Ship had stranded the family's trainer in a forest, how one of the Arc's strongest rivals was supposedly an Uma Musume who never cleaned her room, how there was nothing particularly special about the banks of the Seine—just trivial, everyday anecdotes.
Dream Weaver sat beside her, chin propped in her hands, listening while gently swaying her head. She had thought Orfevre would talk about her own future, much like Artisan Bell had. Instead, was she being treated like a diary?
Not that she was disappointed. Dream Weaver knew that with Orfevre's personality, speaking about such matters to anyone outside her family was difficult. If sharing these little daily stories here could provide an outlet, it might even help her state of mind.
Gradually, as Orfevre continued, a cloud drifted across the sky, obscuring the moon's radiance. Orfevre's golden hair seemed to lose its luster, dimming in the shadows.
Finally, after sharing another accumulation of daily happenings, Orfevre fell silent.
Her glass-like eyes showed no fluctuation, only a steady, serious gaze fixed on Dream Weaver.
"I have heard the doctors say you still retain awareness—that words can reach you, and there is even a chance they may restore your spirit."
"Yet I cannot be certain how much truth lies in his words, or whether it is all a fabrication born of deference to the Gold family's influence."
Her tone remained even, as if she were merely making casual conversation.
But Dream Weaver could glimpse the passage of time in Orfevre's actions—how she seemed to accumulate these little stories before coming to the hospital, pouring out everything she had experienced in her heart right before her.
All in the hope, however faint even to herself, that it might wake Dream Weaver.
"Do you remember what you said to me during the Japan Derby?"
"Orfevre, you need not feel lonely. There are so many strong rivals you can set your eyes upon…"
She spoke softly. Even after all this time, that rain-soaked Tokyo Racecourse remained vivid, as if replayed countless times in her heart.
"The Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe gathers the strongest Uma Musume from around the world. We did indeed encounter many worthy opponents there, but…"
"None of them could catch up to your shadow."
Orfevre recalled every race—how in her eyes, a Crimson Phantom always charged ahead of all the other Uma Musume. Even after she had surpassed everyone and seized victory, that Crimson Phantom would still be waiting calmly beyond the finish line.
Not just the others—even Orfevre herself could never catch up to that phantom.
It was in pursuing that phantom that she had, almost without realizing it, won the Arc de Triomphe.
This race that Orfevre had always spoken of—when she finally held the victory in her hands, she found she wasn't as happy as she'd expected.
Everyone around her was celebrating. The curse that had loomed over Japanese horse racing had finally been broken; their long-held obsession had finally reached its conclusion.
But as she held the trophy, Orfevre could only watch the cheering crowd in silence. Their obsession had been shattered—but what about hers? When would her own longing ever be resolved?
Every time she recalled that crimson figure, Orfevre would unconsciously reach out, trying to grasp it—only to watch it slip through her fingers again and again.
It seemed she would never catch up to that crimson phantom.
"Why…"
"Why, why, why, why, why…"
Orfevre's voice began to tremble. She lowered her head, covering her face as she repeated the word over and over.
"Why did you abandon me, my rival?"
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 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!
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If you guys wanna check it out.