The student council room was unusually quiet, as it had been for quite some time. The room was expansive but empty, offering little in terms of comfort. A clock was hung on the wall—the ticking of its gears being the only solace against the growing silence that was perpetuated by the slow snowfall outside.
As usual, Symboli Rudolf found herself sitting behind her desk, though this time she was alone. Maruzensky was away for the month—apparently she was visiting a cousin of hers abroad, though she didn't quite explain much else. Mr. C.B. should be another member of the student council, but--
She paused in her writing for some time, her eyes lowering in no small amount of shame.
Her relationship with C.B. was…complicated, to put it simply. During the later years of her career, the mounting pressure as the newly crowned 'Emperor' had made her unpleasant, arrogant even. She had become a person she now dearly despised, and if she had a time machine, she would not hesitate to go back and pummel her previous self for her maddened dreams of grandeur.
It was the main reason why C.B. had long separated away from her, and Tracen Central in general. It was why Maruzensky-senpai was even helping out despite having graduated from the academy years ago.
Things were changing, however. Thanks to Blossom Star's advice, she'd finally gathered enough courage to finally attempt to converse with C.B. once more.
The first time she'd called her, C.B. had responded with her usual carefree tone. Most wouldn't have noticed anything strange, but Rudolf knew that her words lacked the warmth it once had. C.B. had spoken to her like she was a stranger, and she was ashamed to admit just how much it had hurt her the first time.
But she'd soldiered on, and though she'd fumbled her words like some middle schooler and her sentences barely made any sense, she'd managed to do the one thing she should've done all those years ago.
She apologized.
Apologized for all those foolish words she'd once said. Apologized for driving her away when she injured herself. Apologized over the fact that she once dared to let herself be blinded by envy and anger when C.B. attempted to comfort her.
She didn't really remember much from that conversation. After she'd managed to spill everything she'd been bottling out, the rest of the conversation had blurred. Being so open had felt both painful and freeing, and when she next noticed it, the call had already ended.
Mr. C.B. had yet to call back since then.
It stung…a lot. Their time together was over in a sense—both their careers were long past; C.B. had every right to never meet her again. But even if C.B. was unwilling to ever meet her again, she was somewhat fine with that. Her chest no longer felt as heavy whenever she thought of her.
After all, the last step of loving was being able to let go, wasn't it?
She didn't know if she could confidently say that she'd loved C.B. romantically. She'd had no shortage of examples in that regard through the various anecdotes about Oguri and Star being shared around the academy. But even if she couldn't, she'd still shared a part of herself during those frantic three years they spent together.
…
Rudolf took a deep breath as she resumed writing.
She'd been doing this for the last hour or so, and the pile of documents she needed to look over just didn't seem to be decreasing. It was no surprise; ever since the URA was dismantled due to Star's daring scheme, all matters regarding racing had been transferred over to Tracen Central. Director Akikawa handled most of it, but even she and Hayakawa Tazuna had their limits.
And so here she was. Going through document after document, forcing herself to remain attentive to ensure she didn't make a mistake.
She would be lying if she said she was happy. She might be the 'Emperor', but she sorely wished that she hadn't also been saddled with the duties of one. Her wrists were aching from how much she'd written and signed in the past hour, and her legs were itching with the need to stretch and run. Alas, she had work to do. If she wanted to have dinner in time, she couldn't slack off.
Just as she finished signing a document and moved to grab another, she accidentally knocked her elbow onto the desk. She winced as she instinctively pulled back, and in doing so, the newspaper that'd been lying beneath her other hand was dragged and fell onto the floor.
She blinked as she turned to the fallen newspaper.
Generation of Miracles: Pioneers to the Future, was the main article being displayed. As its title implied, it talked of the Generation of Miracles, putting emphasis on the [Arima Kinen] that'd happened just a month ago.
She reached down and grabbed the newspaper, smiling slightly as she read the written news. As expected of a newspaper, much of what was written was largely exaggerated, with many lines written for the sole purpose of eliciting some form of emotion from its reader, whether it be amusement or annoyance.
But she paused as she reached the last paragraph of the main article.
"I believe that we stand at the eve of the birth of not just a legend, but of many." It read, its writing bold and daring. "For the first time, I believe we will witness an era not dominated by just one or two umamusume, but rather one shaped by the collective influence of many."
"An era for many…" She repeated, her eyes softening.
Yes, that was what was truly special about this new era. Previously, the history of Japanese racing had been one of singular pioneers. Shinzan, St. Lite, C.B., herself, Mejiro Ramonu—they all drove the sport forward in some ways, but in the end, they were just one person. Their lives had been separated by time.
But this time, Japan had been blessed with an entire Generation of Miracles.
No-, that wasn't quite right.
Even before the formation of the Generation of Miracles, it was Team Kitahara that first began this all. In the backyards of Kasamatsu, on a seemingly normal day, a team of three umamusume and one trainer had come together with the dream to conquer the world of racing. In doing so, they had pulled all of Japan forward, and together with everyone they had gathered, they carried enough influence to overrule even an organization that had led the racing world for decades.
And at the center of it all was Blossom Star. It was she who had ignited this all, and the first spark she'd lit had now blossomed into a raging wildfire that couldn't be stopped.
Of course, that wasn't to deny the influence everyone else had. Director Akikawa and her daring attitude, Oguri Cap and her magnetic pull, Musaka Ginjirou and his decision to return to the world he'd previously left behind—even if Blossom Star stood at the center, this dreamlike rush towards the future was the effort of dozens of hands.
But Star remained the first; the first to dare to stand against the tides. And she found herself remembering those words Star had said.
"I almost took my own life once."
"There's not many things that scare me anymore."
Those words had stuck with her a long time. In retrospect, it suddenly made sense where Star's daring attitude was cultivated from. To her, who had glanced at the abyss and found the strength to step back, something as banal as the URA and their rules must surely look ridiculous.
She knew that the Heroic persona Star gave to the public was just that—a persona. But even if it was merely a mask she donned, Rudolf believed that Star truly deserved to be called the Hero of this generation.
She sighed.
It was truly terrifying to know that all of this had hinged on a single decision. Had Star had chosen to succumb to the darkness, she couldn't fathom just how different this world would've been. Would the URA still exist? Would Oguri Cap and Belno Light have made it to Central? Would the Generation of Miracles even have come to exist?
She didn't know. She didn't want to know. And thankfully, that was not a world she would ever need to see.
.
.
.
She smiled softly as she glanced out the window.
The only thing she truly regretted was the fact that she could only watch from the sidelines.