The atmosphere was awkward.
Peach Waves, still nursing the bite mark on her cheek, looked at Special Week—who sat hunched, humiliated, and aggrieved.
Wait a minute… I'm the victim here!
Still, seeing the other girl trembling and unable to meet her eyes, Peach Waves sighed.
"Well, Special Week… are you okay?"
Special Week flinched, her voice barely audible.
"I'm really sorry, Peach-chan… I didn't mean to… I just—"
Peach Waves interrupted gently.
"Hey, when did I blame you? It's your first night in a new place. Nightmares, sleepwalking… it happens."
She patted Special Week's head, then turned off the lights.
"There's still time to sleep. You don't want to doze off in class and get interviewed by the teacher on your first day, right?"
Special Week stared at her in awe.
Peach-chan is so gentle…
She finally lay down, whispering to herself:
"She's really… amazing."
Early morning.
Peach Waves was already dressed in her school uniform. She glanced at the still-sleeping Special Week and clapped her hands.
"Special Week, get up!"
No response.
"Want breakfast? Big meat buns~"
Suddenly, Special Week shot up—headbutting Peach Waves square in the forehead.
"Ouch! My head—!"
Peach Waves staggered, rubbing her forehead.
"Deadhead! You said you'd bring energy, not concussions!"
"Peach-chan, are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just… bumped into something."
She forced a smile and grabbed her schoolbag. The two headed to the cafeteria.
On the way, they ran into Urara.
"Hey, Peach-chan! What happened to your face?"
Peach Waves froze.
"Ahaha… maybe… probably… bitten by something."
Special Week, hearing her own handiwork being questioned, felt a strange sense of pride.
"And who's this?"
Before Urara could ask further, Special Week stepped forward.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Special Week, a transfer student from Hokkaido."
"Hello! I'm Urara. Can I call you Spec-chan?"
"Sure!"
The three shared breakfast together. Afterward, Tazuna arrived and whisked Special Week away for orientation.
Peach Waves turned to Urara.
"I need a band-aid. I can't let everyone see this mark…"
She stopped by the school clinic, patched up her cheek, and headed to class.
That afternoon, the pool—normally reserved for training—was closed for cleaning. Four Uma Musume stood at the edge.
Peach Waves took a deep breath and peeled off her training uniform, revealing a cute pink-and-white swimsuit.
"Let's get started—"
The other three stared.
"Peach-chan… you bought that behind our backs?!"
Gold Ship slung an arm around her.
"We're here to clean, not model swimsuits!"
Tamamo Cross waved her hand.
"My goodness… even the deadstock swimsuits at Tracen aren't this cute!"
"The school hasn't issued mine yet. I bought it last night."
Before they could bicker further, a voice rang out:
"Hey! No slacking—I'm watching you!"
Hishi Amazon lounged on a recliner, trousers tied, clearly skipping her student council duties.
"They sent a supervisor?! This is cruel!"
Peach Waves shook her mop.
"Ignore her. She's just avoiding paperwork."
Fuji Miracle rolled her eyes.
"Don't expose me!"
Peach Waves began assigning tasks.
"Fuji Miracle, you take the west side. Tamamo, mop the shallow end. Golden Ship, you're on skimmer duty."
Hishi Amazon's eyes kept drifting toward Peach Waves.
"Fuji… doesn't Peach look extra pretty today?"
Fuji Miracle sighed.
"She always does. And stop staring like a weirdo."
"I'm not! She's just… bright."
The trio wore standard dark blue swimsuits. Peach Waves' pink-and-white ensemble stood out like a cherry blossom in winter.
Hishi Amazon barked orders from above.
"This side's still dusty! Mop again!"
The four girls groaned but kept working.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
"Amazon! The president wants to see you!"
"Huh?! Is it good or bad?!"
Air Groove's grim expression said it all.
"Hahaha! Karma!"
Tamamo laughed as Amazon fled.
"Hey! Don't dump dirty water on my side!"
Oguri Cap snapped.
"Sorry sorry!"
Rudolf sat behind her desk, arms crossed, staring at a document.
It was Peach Waves' admission form.
Stamped: Unqualified.
She had found it while organizing unlabeled files. Despite the stamp, the form showed sufficient qualifications.
Her expression darkened.
This again… just like Oguri Cap's case.
Hishi Amazon entered, cheerful—until she saw Rudolf's face.
"President… you called?"
Rudolf slid the form across the desk.
"Pick it up. Read it."
Hishi Amazon's eyes widened.
"Her qualifications are fine…"
"Exactly. And yet, this was marked unqualified. Again."
Sweat trickled down Amazon's forehead.
"I didn't mean to—"
"Fortunately, Peach Waves was already working here. But what if she hadn't been?"
Rudolf's voice was cold.
"You want outsiders to think Tracen is careless?"
Hishi Amazon swallowed hard.
"No, President…"
"Then tell me—what should we do?"