After the investiture ceremony ended, Sakuraba finally managed to calm down, if only barely.
Sigh.
Here he was, an investor whose entire job was to lose money, and his girlfriend was an Umamusume money printer. Wasn't this just another kind of star-crossed love?
But now that Sunny could make this much money, did he even need to keep losing it?
He was losing money so he could make money from the system...
But if his own girlfriend was already earning more than he was, did he really need to keep agonizing over losses?
Maybe he should just give up and let Sunny support him.
He could have Sunny pay off all his system debts for him!
Ahem, ahem, ahem...
Better shelve the whole living-off-his-girlfriend idea.
That was way too pathetic!
Sakuraba still could not bring himself to throw away all his pride and live off his own girlfriend.
Besides, the system's penalties were not limited to fines. There was also the option that deepened possessiveness.
That was obviously a negative debuff. He had no intention of letting the system slap some weird buff on him...
In short, the basic logic behind continuing to lose money had not changed.
Sure, now that Sunday Silence had become a Triple Crown winner, her money-making ability was on a completely different level from before. But still!
Things would work themselves out when the time came!
He still had two loss-making plans under him moving full speed ahead. Maybe he did not have to be afraid of her after all!
So what if she was a Triple Crown money printer? Sakuraba, oh, Sakuraba, you had to believe in yourself...
That was the only way Sakuraba could comfort himself.
...
As the noise and glory gradually settled, the night over Belmont Park finally wrapped the day's frenzy in a gentle hush.
The press conference, the interviews, the winning concert...
Sunday Silence efficiently handled every bit of the "Triple Crown winner" business she was obligated to fulfill.
By the time she finally escaped the flashing cameras and formulaic congratulations, a crescent moon had quietly climbed into the sky.
Sakuraba waited in the agreed-upon rest area.
It was far from the clamor of the main stands. Only a few warm yellow wall lamps beneath the corridor cast down their quiet light.
He leaned back against the railing, looking toward the passage exit. In the stillness of the night, his heartbeat sounded especially clear.
Footsteps approached from afar. Steady. Familiar.
Sunday Silence appeared at the border between light and shadow.
She had changed out of her racing outfit and into a simple dark tracksuit. A few strands of black hair lay messily over her shoulders, and faint exhaustion from the hard-fought race still lingered on her face. But the instant those golden eyes saw him, they lit up.
She walked over quickly, only to slow during the last few steps, stopping one pace away from him.
A silence where even their breathing could be heard settled between them. The thunderous cheers of the day seemed to have become the distant sound of the tide.
Tony Bianca and Obey Your Master had originally been standing a little ways off.
Tony Bianca's eyes were still faintly red, and the way she looked at Sunday Silence was full of affection and emotion.
Obey Your Master stood with her arms folded, a helpless smile on her face.
The two exchanged a silent look.
They knew all too well.
This child had run all the way here, crossing countless thorns, turning every bit of her obsession and aloof pride into strength, until at last she stood at the peak of this continent.
And her first, most essential motivation had only ever come from the person before her.
Tony Bianca lightly touched Obey Your Master's arm and tilted her head toward the exit.
Obey Your Master gave the faintest nod.
"Silence," Tony Bianca said gently, breaking the quiet. "You worked hard today. You were wonderful. We'll head back to the hotel first. There are some follow-up arrangements we should discuss in advance."
She paused, her gaze drifting softly between Sakuraba and Sunday Silence, her smile tender.
"You two... have a good talk."
Obey Your Master said nothing more. She only lifted a hand and gave a casual wave before turning with Tony Bianca and leaving along the dimly lit passage.
Their footsteps gradually faded away, leaving that small corner entirely to the two who had finally reunited.
Now, it really was just them.
The night wind brushed past, carrying the scent of grass and the faint echoes of celebration from far away.
Sakuraba looked at Sunday Silence standing before him. A thousand words rushed to his lips, but in the end, they became only a soft, sincere smile.
"Welcome back, Sunny," he said quietly. "And... congratulations on becoming a Triple Crown winner."
Sunday Silence did not answer right away.
She simply took one step forward, standing closer before him, and lifted her face. His figure was reflected deep in her golden eyes.
Then she reached out. Not for an embrace, but to lightly pinch the corner of his jacket between her fingers. Her grip was very slight, yet it carried an almost imperceptible need to confirm he was there.
"...Ryo."
She called his name, her voice lower than usual and a little hoarse after the race, but unusually clear.
"Yeah."
"I did it."
She said it not as a boast, but more like an offering.
As if she were holding this highest honor out to the only person she wanted to see it.
"I saw."
Sakuraba's smile deepened, his eyes filled with pride.
"I saw every second of it, from beginning to end."
"You ran... incredibly. At the very end, I almost thought you were going to lose."
The corners of Sunday Silence's mouth curved up by the faintest amount.
"Easy Goer... was strong."
She admitted it, then fixed her focused gaze on him.
"But I was the one who won."
"Of course."
Sakuraba nodded without the slightest hesitation. He raised his hand, paused for an instant, then gently set it on top of her head and ruffled her slightly sweat-damp black hair.
"Our Sunny is the strongest."
At that intimate gesture, Sunday Silence's body relaxed almost imperceptibly.
She narrowed her eyes a little, like a cat being stroked the right way, and let his palm remain there.
Only after a while did she murmur, "...Tired."
The exhaustion after a high-intensity race, the weariness of dealing with all that noise, and the vulnerability she was finally willing to reveal before someone she trusted—all of it was compressed into that single word.
"Then shall we go back?" Sakuraba asked softly. "Miss Tony Bianca and the others should have a place ready for you to rest. You need a proper sleep."
Sunday Silence answered, but did not move.
She still held the corner of his coat, her gaze resting on his face, as if confirming his presence, or perhaps simply wanting to look at him a little longer.
Sakuraba did not urge her. He simply stood there with her in silence, letting the night wind and quiet flow between them.
The sound of celebration could still be heard faintly in the distance, but in that small, dim corner, it was as if they had a world all to themselves—one that could hold only the champion after her halo had faded, and Sakuraba's wordless companionship.
Only after a long while did Sunday Silence seem to gather enough strength. She let go of the corner of his coat, then reached out on her own and took his wrist.
Her fingertips were cool, but her grip was firm.
"Let's go."
Her tone had returned to its usual brevity, though there was a softness in it that was not easy to notice.
"Okay."
Sakuraba turned his hand and folded her cool fingers into his palm, wrapping them in warmth.
"Let's go back."
"Back to where we're supposed to be."
Things in America were finished. It was time to return to Japan.
But before that, Sunday Silence pulled Sakuraba back to the hotel.
Before he could even react, Sunday Silence had dragged him into the hotel room and pushed him down onto the bed.
"?"
"Sunny... what are you doing?"
Sunday Silence climbed onto the bed and straddled Sakuraba's waist, her face flushed as she looked down at him from above.
"I... won the race..."
"So I want... my reward...!"
---
T/N: even in fics, the japanese gets ntr by the foreigners heh poor oguri poor tama
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