Nearly two months later.
At the training grounds' gate, dusk had begun to fall. The orange sunset painted a warm halo around the facility's outline.
"See you tomorrow, McQueen~!"
"Mm, see you tomorrow, Teio."
Two petite figures with little school satchels waved at each other, their youthful voices bright and clear. Tokai Teio skipped away in another direction, light on her feet. Mejiro McQueen—no, McQueen—turned quietly and got into the domestic luxury sedan already waiting at the curb, the one belonging to her family.
Vroom.
The engine purred to life. The car glided off, sealing the evening chill beyond the glass.
Inside, McQueen said nothing; she simply pressed her cheek to the cool window and watched the cityscape stream backward. Her eyes were a little unfocused, as if thinking of something far away. Recent events replayed in her mind like a film.
Ever since the New Year—within just a single month—Team "Chasing Light" had all but slammed its arrival upon Central with a stormlike momentum.
Fujimasa March-senpai had not only claimed the Kyoto Kinen (G2) less than a month after the semester began, with strength that brooked no contest—just a few days ago she also crushed her next field in utterly one-sided fashion. McQueen had been there for that race. That silver-white figure descended upon the track like a queen; from start to finish, she never once let anyone glimpse her back.
Everyone in the team was trending upward as well. Chiyono O-senpai, Ardan-onee-san—each had already taken victories in their respective G3, even G2 events. Even Inari One-senpai was deep in final prep for the soon-to-arrive, much-anticipated Spring Tenno Sho.
"Tenno Sho…" McQueen murmured. At the thought, the purple-haired little loli instinctively raised her small hand and looked at it. Her pale, tender palm slowly tightened into a fist, as though trying to seize something—yet it still felt so powerless. In the end, she let out the faintest sigh.
A while ago, her trainer had told her:
She would soon—very soon— True Blooming.
But… how long was "very soon"?
Her training load, while still age-appropriate, was already nearly on par with Central Tracen Academy's active racers. She could feel it clearly: a surge—stronger by the day—rushing within her body, pounding like a river, as if ready to burst free at any moment.
And yet, the door to the real racetrack remained shut, day after day, showing not even a sliver of hope of opening.
McQueen sighed again, a faint crease of worry between her brows.
Just then, the car gave a slight shudder and rolled to a stop.
"Milady, we've arrived."
The driver's respectful voice drifted from the front. The door was opened from outside. McQueen nodded with composed grace, took up her little schoolbag, and alighted.
She returned to her family's estate.
Everything thereafter was as always: a bath, dinner, completing her assigned homework, offering evening greetings to her elders. Until late into the night when the corridors had fallen quiet, the purple-haired little loli finally closed her book and stretched with an adorable yawn.
"All done. A perfect day."
McQueen nodded to herself, switched off the lamp, and nestled into the warm, cozy covers.
Only, tonight felt… a little different.
In her dream, she seemed to drift within an endless sea of warm light. Three figures—faces indistinct yet wrapped in a sacred aura—circled her slowly. Their lips seemed to be moving, as if singing blessings… or giving her a charge. The song did not enter through her ears; it resounded directly within her heart.
Then, boundless seven-colored streams of light converged upon her, whirling into a great vortex with McQueen at its center, and flowed gently into her body.
Like resting in a mother's arms.
That was how it felt to McQueen.
Morning.
The alarm on the nightstand rang, punctual and persistent. On the bed, a tall, slender figure shot upright almost on instinct. The cotton sleepwear that had fit her just fine yesterday now clung to curves that were suddenly—undeniably—womanly, tracing a silhouette capable of quickened heartbeats.
A long, fair arm reached out and tapped the alarm into silence. She sat there for a moment, a little slow, as if her consciousness had not fully returned from the depths of sleep.
When she moved to get out of bed as usual, her fair foot stepped toward her slippers—
"Eh? Why do these feel so—"
She clapped a hand over her mouth. It was still her voice—yet every last trace of childishness had fallen away, clear and pleasant with a new, composed breath.
She stared at her hands. They were no longer the small, cute palms from yesterday, but long and well-proportioned; each finger was like sculpted white jade, crystalline and smooth, joints delicately defined.
Suddenly, realization struck. She flung aside the quilt and all but ran to the full-length dressing mirror in the corner.
She stopped, looked—and went perfectly still.
Reflected within was a breathtaking young lady with purple hair cascading to her waist, staring at herself with round, disbelieving eyes. The face was still McQueen's—but every hint of baby fat had vanished.
Her gaze dropped. The sleepwear that once suited her loli frame—now, even if it had only needed to hold what used to be two little "steamed buns," its tailor-made fabric was pushed to the absolute limit. Below that, a slender waist; a graceful sweep to her hips; and lastly, a pair of long, fair legs, straight and toned, brimming with youthful vitality.
Is… that really me?
The beauty in the mirror slowly lifted her hands to caress her cheeks, then—
—let them glide down, resting over the full, weighty chest she had never experienced before.
"Hmm." McQueen gave them a tiny test bounce, puffed her cheeks, briefly dissatisfied—then her expression brightened all at once.
"True Blooming…"
"I've True Bloomed!"
"I can enter races now!"
In those amethyst eyes, a never-before-seen radiance flashed. She curled her fingers; a surging sense of power rose from every corner of her body. She could feel her blood racing, her heart thundering in strong beats. In those long legs lay explosive strength that felt like it could crack the very earth.
This—this was the power after True Blooming.
This was the power to stand upon a real racetrack.
"Tell Mom first—then I'm going straight to the trainer!"
McQueen drew in a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She eagerly turned, pulled open her wardrobe, and reached for the familiar Central Tracen Academy — Elementary Division uniform.
It got stuck.
After a tiny frown and a very brief struggle, she hurried to a special wardrobe. As a noble house in the racing world, her family had long prepared for True Blooming—this closet held clothing in a range of sizes to fit any post-Bloom figure.
A quick search; she fished out a tracksuit from a corner and changed. After a simple tidy-up of her hair, McQueen dashed out of her room, even setting aside the impeccable elegance she usually prized.
First, notify Mom.
Then—tell the trainer, immediately!
(End of Chapter)
[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Zaelum"]
[Every 500 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]