I looked toward Tachyon and saw her face—she looked utterly bothered by Kosuke's proximity.
"You're in the way," I told him.
Kosuke finally caught the hint. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, giving Tachyon a little apologetic bow. Tachyon slipped off her low black heels and stepped onto the cold, cheaply painted yellow floor of the entryway. She stood there, waiting for me to follow, but before I could step inside, my father's voice rang out from the parking lot.
"Hey! Keiichi! Come give me a hand with these groceries!"
I had no choice but to go, though I felt a prickle of worry about leaving Tachyon alone. She looked back at me, her eyes clouded with a flicker of unease.
"Tachyon, you want to help me carry some stuff?"
As if she had been waiting for the invitation, she gave a sharp, decisive nod and stepped back into her shoes. We headed down to the lot together, the front door clicking shut behind us.
Down at the car, my father was busy wrestling with a handful of plastic bags, trying to figure out the most efficient way to carry them. When he caught sight of me, his face broke into a warm smile—not for me, but because he saw Tachyon following in my shadow.
"Hello there," my father said kindly.
"Hello," Tachyon replied in a small voice, bowing her head. It was a side of her I rarely saw—polite, almost demure. It was so out of character that I couldn't help but smirk. Tachyon caught me, knitting her brows in a sharp glare, which only made me want to grin more.
My father spoke up. "Is Ms. Agnes going to help us carry things, too?"
Tachyon nodded.
"Alright then. Keiichi, you take these," he said, handing me two massive, heavy bags. He took one large one for himself and then handed Tachyon a single, tiny bag. It was such blatant favoritism that I opened my mouth to protest, but then I saw Tachyon's eyes. She was smirking at me. I gave up.
The bags were heavy, though. Halfway up the stairs, I caved and handed one to Tachyon. It must have been quite a weight, but she took it with effortless grace. Right, I reminded myself. She's an Umamusume after all.
Once inside, my father told us to take everything to the fridge. Even after we reached the kitchen, Tachyon held onto her bag until she could set it down exactly where it needed to go. My fingers were numb from the plastic handles, and I had to put mine down once to catch my breath, but I managed to finish the job.
Tachyon waited for me. It seemed she had no intention of being left alone in the other room with Kosuke. She stood perfectly still until I sighed, "Man, I'm beat," and walked past her. Only then did she follow me into the main room.
Once inside, she tugged on my sleeve. "My suitcase... where should I put it?"
"Oh, just wipe the dust off the wheels and put it in the next room. And while you're at it, my bag—"
I started to ask, but Tachyon's glare cut me off. I shut up. Kosuke had already claimed a spot at the kotatsu, and the room was warm. I slid my legs under the quilted table, letting out a long, deep sigh at the sudden comfort. I couldn't tell if it was a sigh of exhaustion or relief. I took another breath.
"Ahhh... finally. I'm home."
The hunger from missing lunch was forgotten as I drifted immediately into a heavy sleep.
I woke to Tachyon shaking my shoulder. I felt like I hadn't slept at all. I tried to swat her hand away, but she responded by giving my arm a sharp, painful pinch.
"Are you skipping lunch? Because if you aren't going to eat, I'll happily take your portion!"
That did it. I bolted upright, my stomach finally remembering its vacancy. "What's for lunch?"
I didn't actually need to ask. A bowl of ramen was sitting right in front of me, and the savory, heavy scent of tonkotsu broth had been drifting under my nose even before I opened my eyes.
"Ramen, huh..."
It's not that I wasn't happy to see it, but my voice came out flatter than I intended. I quickly added, "Well, you can't go wrong with this."
I glanced at Tachyon, but she wasn't looking at me. she was already lost in her own bowl, slurping noodles with focused intensity. Her bangs must have been in the way; she had pinned them back with a hair clip, revealing a rare glimpse of her forehead.
By the time I was halfway through my double-portion, Tachyon had finished hers and was staring longingly at my bowl.
"You want more?" I asked.
She nodded instantly. I chuckled, drained the soup from a portion of noodles with my chopsticks, and slid them into her bowl. I stood up and called out to my father, who was still in the kitchen.
"Dad, two portions isn't enough for Tachyon. You need to make at least four."
I heard my father's voice, thick with shock. "What? An Umamusume eats four portions?"
"It varies from girl to girl, but generally? Yeah, easily. Actually, Tachyon is a relatively light eater."
"No way..." my father breathed. "Wait, if a family had three Umamusume—like two sisters and a mother—plus the father... that's what, thirteen portions of food? How do they afford the grocery bill?"
"There are various subsidies for that. Government programs, and even some restaurants have their own special rates."
"Huh," he said, sounding impressed. "Does Ms. Agnes still need more, then?"
My father sounded genuinely worried, so I looked back at Tachyon. She was currently picking up a stray noodle from the table and popping it into her mouth.
"Tachyon, you still hungry?"
She answered with the chopsticks still in her mouth. "I'm go-ooh-d now."
She pulled the chopsticks out and, instead of looking for more noodles, downed the remaining broth in a single, impressive gulp.
"Thank you for the meal," she said, pressing her hands together and looking at me. She stood up. "Where is the restroom?"
"The brown door on the left."
As she started to walk away, I hesitated for a moment before calling after her. "...Are you really okay?"