The Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe was over.
After resting at Paris Tracen for three days to let everyone's bodies recover, Fujiwara Chiya prepared to return to Japan.
During that time, his phone practically never stopped ringing.
Director Akikawa Yayoi called. Rice Shower and the others called. Central Tracen called. Reporters he had met through work called. Shop clerks he had exchanged contact info with while buying things called. Even merchants from God-knew-where somehow got hold of his number and started calling too.
Fujiwara Chiya was run ragged.
In fact, he was even busier than he had been before the Arc. In the end, he had no choice but to call Satake Mei over to help.
And while Fujiwara Chiya drowned in work, Shirayuki was lying in bed.
Ugh. Here we go again…
Her arms. Her shoulders. Her legs. Her ankles.
Muscles all over her body had been strained. Just like last year, Shirayuki had to plaster herself with medicine and nurse herself back to health. If she had not been having trouble walking right now, she would have already flown back to Japan with Chiya.
But unlike last year, the one taking care of her was not Treve.
It was Orfevre.
Orfevre pushed a meal cart into the room.
"Time to eat, Shirayuki."
She set an extra-long, extra-wide table across Shirayuki's bed, then placed several huge plates of food on top of it. After that, she stared, visibly speechless, as Shirayuki struggled with all her might to bring each bite to her mouth.
"Let me do it," Orfevre said. "In your current state, stop moving around like an idiot."
"Thanks, Orfevre."
Shirayuki smiled and opened her mouth, letting Orfevre feed her.
"I have not even fed Trainer before… Be grateful, Shirayuki. Grovel if you must."
"Mm-hmm."
"Look at you. You got food everywhere."
Orfevre took out a handkerchief and wiped the grease from the corner of Shirayuki's mouth.
Orfevre these days really was starting to look more and more like a young wife.
Though not as wife-like as me.
After this race, Fujiwara Chiya had contacted a wedding company in Japan. Once they returned, they would soon hold the ceremony. Before that, he still needed to tell everyone about himself.
That included Orfevre.
I'm about to become my own wife.
Several times, Shirayuki nearly blurted that out to Orfevre.
But after thinking it over, she decided it would be better to tell everyone together once they were back in Japan. That way, they would not have to explain it one person at a time.
Of course, the process absolutely would not go smoothly.
No, Shirayuki had already braced herself for a bloodbath.
Through Chiya's side, Shirayuki had seen herself on the stage, bathed in spotlights, dancing the winner's dance that symbolized victory.
At that moment, he had fallen hopelessly in love with her.
I am Chiya.
I am Shirayuki.
I am his uma musume.
And I am also the future mother of my child.
Her journey as an uma musume had reached its finish line.
But as a partner, as a trainer, and as a mother, she was only just taking her first step.
"You really do eat a lot."
Sitting beside Shirayuki, Orfevre stared at the half-mountain of food that had already vanished into Shirayuki's stomach.
"When I brought all this over, people thought I had delivered it to the wrong place. They said it was supposed to go to the dining hall serving area, not a dorm room."
"Well… I've always needed a lot of nutrition."
"I feel sorry for whoever marries you one day. That poor soul is in for suffering."
"That's where you're wrong. Whoever marries me will be the happiest person under the heavens."
"You really dare say that, huh? Because you are the world-famous Empress?"
"That's part of it, but there's one more important reason."
Shirayuki swallowed another bite.
"Because I exist for him."
That night, after an entire day of work, Fujiwara Chiya walked out of his room and ran into Orfevre.
"Yo, Orfevre. Thanks for taking care of Shirayuki during the day."
"It was nothing. I simply enjoy seeing the Empress in such a feeble state. Her humiliated expression as she lies there, unable to move, is the finest entertainment I could ask for."
Is that right?
Because that was not what you looked like when you were singing Shirayuki to sleep.
Then again, it was Orfevre.
Fujiwara Chiya was already used to it.
"Trainer."
Orfevre walked up to Fujiwara Chiya and clenched her teeth.
"I… am furious."
She struck Fujiwara Chiya's chest with her fist.
"I was so close. So close…! I could have surpassed the Empress. I could have surpassed Treve. I could have stood at the top of the world! Just a little more…!"
Orfevre lowered her head.
Her shoulders trembled faintly.
This was Orfevre's first defeat on the racetrack.
She had lost to the Empress she had always dreamed of surpassing.
She had lost on the stage where the world's peak was decided.
And she had only been a hair away.
There was nothing more agonizing than that.
Fujiwara Chiya knew that feeling.
Behind every winner, there would always be countless losers.
Looking at Orfevre like that, Fujiwara Chiya placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Remember today, Orfevre. Remember this frustration. Remember this regret. It will become the fuel that pushes you forward."
Fujiwara Chiya had always believed it.
Every crushing defeat would bring transformation to an uma musume.
They would turn those scars into strength, then unleash it in their next race.
For an uma musume, aside from victory itself, what mattered most was the heart that wanted to race against others.
A heart that dared to struggle.
A heart that refused to stop.
And Orfevre had that heart.
"I'll stay with you until the day you look down on the world."
Fujiwara Chiya made that promise to her.
Orfevre looked at the man in front of her and bit her lip. Then she hugged him against his chest.
Only after a long while did she finally let go.
"Next time, I will absolutely not lose."
That once-arrogant face now carried a little more composure.
Once again, Fujiwara Chiya had witnessed the transformation of an uma musume.
He was proud of Orfevre.
The three days passed in the blink of an eye.
Soon, the day came for everyone to return to Japan.
Early in the morning, Treve ran to Shirayuki's room. The moment she saw Shirayuki applying medicated patches to herself, she charged forward and threw herself at her.
"Gyaa! My waist… my waist…!"
"Sorry, Shirayuki! I got too excited. Are you still not better?"
"How could I possibly heal that fast?!"
"Oh."
Treve scratched her head.
"Where have you been these past few days?" Shirayuki asked, quickly putting on her clothes without making it obvious. "I barely saw you."
"I was talking with the Director about transferring schools."
"Transferring?"
"That's right. To Japan Tracen. We promised, didn't we?"
Treve wrapped her arms around Shirayuki's neck.
"If you won, I would belong to you."
"Ah… Right."
Work had been so hectic these past few days that Shirayuki had almost forgotten.
Which meant…
"Mm."
Treve nodded.
"I'm your thing now, Shirayuki."
She had won the Arc.
And as a bonus, she got one little foreign uma musume.
Shirayuki felt like she had made an absurd profit.
Looking at Treve in front of her, Shirayuki could not help reaching out to stroke her. Somehow, after Treve said she had become her thing, the feeling Shirayuki got from her was different.
She seemed even more adorable than before.
"Shirayuki, now that I've become your thing, you have to treat me well, okay?"
"…Mm. Of course."
The bet had been a little outrageous, but Treve really did seem like she was going to become hers.
"When are you coming over?"
"We've been discussing it these past few days. Paris Tracen doesn't really want me to leave, so it'll still take some time."
Of course they did not.
Treve was, after all, the queen of Paris Tracen. If she just left like that, it would be a huge blow to the entire school.
Even though it was a little underhanded, Shirayuki had no intention of giving up on Treve.
She wanted to bring Treve home too.
"If it's quick, maybe one month. If it's slow, two or three months. But no matter how long it takes, I'll go."
Lying against Shirayuki's chest, Treve looked up at her with burning eyes.
"Because the two of us made a promise."
"I'll wait for you at Tracen."
"Hehe."
Treve smiled.
"Oh, right, Shirayuki. I have a present for you."
Treve handed over the box in her hands.
When Shirayuki opened it, there was a pair of shoes inside.
They were pale blue high-top shoes with golden buttons, and tucked inside was a pair of socks, one long and one short.
"T-This is…"
"You said you wanted my shoes, right? So I brought them over first. Think of them as a down payment. I'll give you the shoes first, then come over later."
"Ah…"
Shirayuki's eyes sparkled.
She held the shoes in her hands like she was cradling some sacred relic.
Faintly, she could smell a sweet fragrance from inside them.
"I washed them a little," Treve said. "They're my winning shoes, after all. I wore them for a long time, so they might have had a weird smell inside. Or does Shirayuki prefer them with a scent? I don't mind putting them on now, running a few laps, and giving them back to you afterward."
"No, no, no. This is perfect."
Shirayuki carefully put the shoes away.
"I can't believe the first pair of winning shoes I received are from the winner of the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe. Am I dreaming?"
"Shirayuki's tastes really are strange. If we're talking about that, aren't your shoes also the shoes of an Arc winner?"
"You're right. Once the race is over, I need to seal my shoes away and preserve them properly too."
Treve could not help laughing.
After a moment, she looked at Shirayuki.
"It's almost time to say goodbye, Shirayuki. I know we'll meet again later, but… I still feel a little lonely."
"Me too."
"Racing against you was the happiest thing in my entire career as an uma musume. Next time, I'll come find you at Tracen."
"Mm. I'll wait for you at Tracen too. Goodbye, Treve. You really are my best rival and my best friend."
"…Not my best partner?"
"…"
"Shirayuki??"
After that, Treve ran to Naze Hideto's office and shouted that she wanted to hurry up and go to Tracen.
Apparently, she had started suspecting that Shirayuki was not bringing her over to be the legal wife, but a concubine.
But that was a story for another time.
In front of Paris Tracen's gates, Fujiwara Chiya finished gathering his luggage.
He looked at Gold Ship, Orfevre, Shirayuki, and Sazaki Mei, all waiting for him by the entrance.
Then he smiled.
"Let's go, everyone."
"We're going home!"