"Where there are winners, there are losers."
It's a truth every horse girl who runs across the turf for her dreams must face — flickering the candle of her life in the heat of competition.
Heart still racing with the thrill of my first victory, I walked toward Mr. Okino, Ms. Ohana, and the first-year students watching the exhibition race, trying to steady my breathing.
I wondered what Mr. Okino thought of my run.
Did he feel like training me right away? Or maybe he was worried about my legs?
Did Air Groove, Suzuka, and President Rudolf — and even Ms. Ohana — see me properly?
Would they celebrate my win? Or would they just look surprised that I managed to beat upperclassmen?
Thinking about that, I walked toward the group. But when I got there, the atmosphere was heavy.
What happened?
Before the exhibition race, everyone was cheerful and full of energy — and now it felt like a funeral.
The upperclassmen who ran with me had bitter, frustrated looks on their faces. Well, that made sense. I'd felt the same frustration when I lost the mock race before.
Even Katsuragi Ace-senpai and the other Team Rigil members who didn't race — I could understand their reactions too. They probably didn't expect to lose to a first-year.
But why were the first-year visitors silent?
Why didn't Air Groove or Suzuka, who cheered for me, say anything?
Why wasn't Mr. Okino smiling?
Why wouldn't Ms. Ohana look at me while tending to the other girls who raced?
Why did President Rudolf turn away when I looked at her?
And why did Maruzensky-san look… so sad?
I felt my joy shrivel away. My legs, light just moments ago, suddenly felt like lead.
No one was looking at me.
No one said a word to me.
No one congratulated me.
It felt like I was the villain.
My mouth felt sewn shut — I couldn't say a thing. The happiness I'd felt vanished, and with every heavy step I took, my heart grew colder and more restless.
Why?
Why did I just want to get out of there so badly?
I threw on the jersey hanging by the rail and walked toward Ms. Ohana.
"Ms. Ohana."
"Oh, Nature. Go do your cooldown. We'll start the trial club session after I give a short briefing to the others."
She spoke kindly, but my heart wouldn't clear. I just needed a little time alone.
"I'm sorry. I just remembered something I have to do. Please excuse me for today. Thank you very much."
I bowed quickly and left without waiting for a reply.
Maybe someone called out after me, but I wasn't in any state to respond.
After leaving the training grounds, I wandered aimlessly — walking, stopping to look up at the sky, then walking again with no destination in mind.
Before I knew it, I had ended up back at the smoking area from earlier.
"Well, since I'm here anyway…" I thought, stepping inside.
I pulled out an aroma cigar from my pocket, placed it between my lips, and lit it with the Zippo lighter Mr. Okino had given me.
In the dull reflection of the lighter's surface, my face looked distant. I stared at it for a moment before striking the flame.
Zzzzt…
The quiet crackle of the burning cigar filled the still air. That faint sound helped calm my restless heart a little.
(Why did everyone react like that…? I only tried my best…)
Looking out the window of the smoking area, I exhaled a slow stream of sweet-smelling smoke.
I'd promised Air Groove and Suzuka I'd win. I wanted Mr. Okino to see how I ran.
I wanted to test my own limits.
Before the race, all those thoughts pushed me forward.
But after it was over, all I wanted — just a simple "congratulations."
I wanted Mr. Okino to praise me, Air Groove and Suzuka to be happy for me, President Rudolf and Maruzensky-san and Ms. Ohana to be a little surprised.
Now my mind was a mess. I couldn't even name what I was feeling — just that it hurt.
Not the same frustration as when I placed third in the mock race, but something… different.
Ash from my aroma cigar fell onto my jersey. I brushed it off and turned my eyes back to the drifting clouds outside, staring blankly.
The fire reached the filter; the faint smell of burnt paper made me hastily stub it out. I hadn't even smoked half of it. Feeling a little wasteful, I lit another one.
As I exhaled, I thought — maybe they were afraid of me.
When I thought about it, I wasn't good at making friends my own age.
I spent breaks reading reference books and papers, or visiting Ten Point-san at lunch.
I rarely started conversations myself.
So when a classmate they barely knew suddenly beat Team Rigil's upperclassmen — even if I wasn't debuted yet — I must've looked like a real threat to them.
Maybe they saw me as a rival they'd have to fight through the Classics with.
If it was just that, I could live with it. But if they were scared of me — or worse, started to hate me — that would hurt.
If I ended up isolated, even with all these famous horse girls around… I think my heart might break.
(Maruzensky-san's sad face… maybe she already knew this might happen.)
She once told me that she'd been so strong that no one wanted to train alongside her — races were even canceled because other runners dropped out. She'd said it like it didn't bother her, but maybe she'd once felt exactly like I did now.
Clatter… click.
The door to the smoking area opened. Someone had come in.
"Good… I found you."
I turned my head — it was Mr. Okino, walking toward me.
"Oh, Mr. Okino."
He gave a faint smile and stood beside me, cigarette in his mouth.
Without a word, I held out my lit aroma cigar toward him.
He leaned in and lit his cigarette from it — a kind of cigarette kiss, like before.
Neither of us said anything. We just watched the sky through the smoke.
Only the rising white wisps moved in the still air.
"I'm sorry."
After a minute or two of silence, he finally spoke.
"When you came back after winning, I should've been the first to praise you — told you how great you did, asked if your legs were okay."
He spoke like someone confessing a sin.
"It's fine… words like that are wasted on someone like me."
My usual formal tone softened — for once, my words came out like Nice Nature's.
"Come on, Mr. Okino. You should get back. You're still running the trial sessions, right?"
He just gave a wry smile, not moving an inch.
"Not much point in being there if you're not, Nature."
He scratched his head, exhaled deeply, then continued.
"I wasn't seeing you properly. You're smart — you train efficiently, you're calm beyond your years. Talking to you felt like talking to a peer, not a student.
So when I saw you run… I couldn't believe my eyes.
Even among those who've already started their prime, you won.
Sure, I told you to 'go win,' but honestly, that was just to calm you down."
"Well, yeah, that's the normal reaction."
"But when you actually did win, I froze. I saw only the result.
I didn't see the effort, the heart behind it.
When you left the track, you looked so sad — so lonely.
And seeing that… it hit me like a punch to the head.
No matter how mature you act, you're still a kid — just a middle schooler."
"Of course I am, Mr. Okino. We only met today, remember?"
"Yeah… and yet I was so happy to recruit you, I never truly faced you as a person.
You worked hard — and no one praised you. That must've hurt.
I'm sorry, Nature. I failed you as a trainer."
He looked truly remorseful. I stayed quiet, letting him speak.
"So, Nature… no — Nice Nature.
Let me ask properly this time: please join me. Give me a chance.
Not the Nice Nature who wants to become a trainer someday.
Not the strong Nice Nature who wins races.
I want to support the real Nice Nature.
Please… join Team Spica next year."
Then, right there, he bowed deeply to me.
It almost felt like a confession — and despite everything, my heart filled with warmth.
I always said I was mentally older, but maybe this body was pulling my heart along.
Because being praised, being needed — it felt really good.
It was a feeling I never had in my previous life.
"Mr. Okino, I've barely raced before, you know?"
"You'll have plenty of chances from now on."
"I might not train much — I still want to study to be a trainer myself."
"Then we'll figure out the most efficient training together."
"I might be… kind of a pain to deal with."
"That's part of what makes you you, Nature."
He sounded just like the trainer from the game — desperate, sincere.
I hadn't even said I wouldn't join Spica, but he was trying so hard anyway.
"…Next year then, Mr. Okino. Sure.
Besides, I never said I wouldn't join, did I?"
"This is my responsibility as a trainer.
I don't want you joining Spica out of obligation.
It should be because you want to. Otherwise, it'd only hurt you — and your dream."
"'A trainer's responsibility,' huh…?"
Hearing the same phrase Ms. Ohana often used made me smile.
It showed just how deeply both of them cared about horse girls.
"Well then, Mr. Okino — it's too late for the trial sessions anyway.
Would you stay for one more smoke with me?"
"Of course."
He smiled and pulled another cigarette from his pocket.
We both lit up from the same Zippo flame — something I'd seen in an old movie and always wanted to try.
Click. I shut the lighter and inhaled deeply.
The sweet aroma filled the air, tickling my nose.
"Here's to working together from now on, Mr. Okino."
"Yeah… from now on, Nice Nature."
We both smiled — and together, exhaled a single white breath into the quiet air.