"The reply came in. She's agreed to attend, Goodbye Halo-san that is."
"I'm terribly sorry for the trouble, Grandmother. I hate to have to rely on you for something like this."
"Think nothing of it. Being relied upon by my grandson is a point of pride for a grandmother—especially since the rest of the Mejiro lot are far too formal to ever ask."
"Ah… well, I suppose you can be a bit intimidating to approach," Rampage replied with a wry scratch of his head.
They were in the Mejiro estate, speaking in Asama's private quarters. The topic at hand was the second reception for the URA Finals and the Legend Race. Specifically, whether or not they could secure the presence of the legendary Goodbye Halo—mother of King Halo. As it turned out, the answer was yes.
"You likely could have invited her yourself," Asama noted. "You were involved in the design of your own racing silks, were you not? It isn't as if you're total strangers."
"Maybe not total strangers, but I wasn't involved in the first set, and I haven't even worn the ones from the second set onwards. Our connection is paper-thin. Besides, compared to your years of prestige and authority, Grandmother, a newcomer like me is… well, I'm hardly in the same league."
"My, you certainly know how to flatter an old woman. Perhaps that is one of the few pleasures of growing older."
Asama truly wanted to be someone her family could lean on. She understood that her grandchildren treated her with the utmost respect, but sometimes, seeing an ordinary grandmother and grandchild out in the city—the child clinging to her arm and shouting, "I love you, Grandma!"—filled her with a quiet envy. Given her status, the formal conduct of the Mejiro children was only natural… and yet, Rampage gave her the warmth she craved. He was, truly, a darling grandson.
"Oh, that's right! Actually, Grandmother, Fine and I made some sweets earlier. Would you like to try some?"
"Oh, how lovely! I'll have tea prepared immediately. Ardan is here as well; let's make an afternoon of it."
"Mother. I'm leaving this here."
The intrusion was entirely without warning.
Goodbye Halo had been enjoying a rare moment of post-work grace, sipping tea in her room, when King—who was supposed to be living in the school dorms—burst in. Without a word of greeting, she tossed an envelope onto the table as if it were junk mail.
"...King? You return home without a word and this is how you greet me?"
"This is my home, is it not? Or have you forgotten telling me I'm welcome back anytime? In any case, I've delivered what I came to deliver."
"Wait. What is this?"
"An invitation to a party. Surely you're used to those by now."
Goodbye Halo was indeed used to parties. But what sort of insolent fool would use her own daughter as a courier? She suppressed her annoyance, shifting her gears instantly to try and engage her daughter in actual conversation.
"If you've come home, perhaps it means you've finally taken my words to hea—"
"I'm leaving now. I have a car waiting."
"Wait!"
"What is it now…? I only came to drop that off. I'm sorry, Mother, but I'm really not in the mood to deal with your sharp tongue and your inability to say what you actually mean."
"Wh-What!?"
King had always been strong-willed and rebellious, but she had never been this blunt. What had changed her so much? In a way, it felt like growth, which brought a flicker of maternal pride—but this wasn't exactly the kind of "growth" Goodbye Halo had been hoping for.
As her mind raced at a mile a minute, one phrase stuck in her throat.
"I have a car waiting."
A car? Who was driving? Had someone from the house gone to pick her up? No, the staff would have notified her. Then who…?
Wait. Could it be… a man!? She had only just started at Tracen Academy, and she already had a boyfriend!?
"King, you—! ...Wait, she's gone!?"
The target of her outburst had already vanished. Only the envelope remained, carrying the faint, lingering scent of her daughter's perfume.
Goodbye Halo snatched it up and sprinted for the door. Her legs, the very ones that had secured seventeen G1 victories, unleashed a burst of speed that eclipsed even the most elite active racers. By the time she reached the front entrance, she saw King sliding into the passenger seat of a car.
"Kiiiiiing!"
Hearing the shout, King looked back from the window and stuck out her tongue in a childish taunt. The car pulled away immediately.
Goodbye Halo nearly collapsed as the adrenaline faded, her mind spinning. If she's leaving like that, then what on earth is in this envelope?
"It couldn't be… a wedding invitation!?"
It was a preposterous leap in logic, but her composure was too shattered to realize it. She tore the envelope open with trembling fingers. Only then did her sanity return.
"This is… an invitation to the URA Finals Legend Race reception…?"
Now that she thought about it, she had received a formal request from the Mejiro family as well. Mejiro Rampage was, after all, a scion of that house. As a world-class designer under the URA's wing, it was perfectly natural for her to be invited, and she had intended to attend with her usual dignified poise… but why had it come through her daughter?
"Wait, there's something else in here…"
Tucked behind the invitation was a small note. As she read it, Goodbye Halo's eyes sharpened, glowing with the fierce intensity of her racing days.
"Heh… Hahaha! He certainly has nerve. I don't care if they call him a 'Tyrant' or anything else—I'll make him regret picking a fight with me. Fine then! As King's mother, I accept your challenge!"
It was more than a declaration; it was an act of war.
The day finally arrived. The URA Finals Legend Race Reception. And there, amidst the glitter of the ballroom, Goodbye Halo finally came face-to-face with the man known as the world's fastest, strongest Tyrant.
"So, you are Mejiro Rampage."
"That's right. The one and only 'Autocratic Tyrant,' Mejiro Rampage. It's been a while since that night, King's Mother."
"That night…? Then, that car was…"
"Yeah, mine. I figured I needed to have a proper chat with you sooner or later. For a woman who's as bad with words as you are, I figured a face-to-face confrontation would be the only way to get through."
"...Very well. I'll play your game."
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