On the rooftop.
Kuroha was still holding that skyward stare, but he didn't even dare breathe too loudly.
One second, two seconds, ten seconds…
Time seemed to stretch infinitely in that moment.
After a long while—
"Whew…"
A cool breeze brushed past. From the banquet hall below came faint cheers and the clink of glasses, just as before.
The world was at peace. Nothing happened.
"…That was freaking intense."
After confirming the Three Goddesses weren't about to descend on the spot and give him a "lesson in love," Kuroha finally let out a long breath, wiped the cold sweat from his temple, and patted his chest with lingering fear.
Looks like ignorance really was innocence.
Or maybe those three big shots were just in a good mood and couldn't be bothered to punish him.
Either way, he absolutely could not do something that thrilling again.
Just as Kuroha finally steadied his racing heart—before he could truly relax—
A crisp, amused voice rang out behind him.
"What, the biggest contributor is up here alone, hiding from the crowd and catching cold?"
"?!"
Already jumpy, Kuroha flinched so hard he nearly sprang straight up.
"Pff—hahaha!"
Behind him, Fumino burst out laughing at his exaggerated reaction, almost dropping the two cans of soda in her hands.
"Hey, hey, come on. Is it really that bad? Am I that scary?"
"Ahem…"
Kuroha cleared his throat awkwardly, reached out to take the soda she offered, and sighed.
"It's nothing. Just thinking about life… got a little too deep into it."
No way he was telling her he'd just been scared of getting smote by a goddess.
"Is that so?"
Fumino shot him a suspicious look, but didn't press.
She walked up beside him and leaned on the railing like he had, turning her head slightly as the night wind lifted the strands of hair by her ear.
This violet-haired beauty—praised at Central Tracen Academy as "Prince"—usually carried herself with a sharp, capable air.
But facing Kuroha like this, her expression softened in a way that was rare, a hint of sweetness easing into her brows and eyes.
"Why aren't you down there soaking up everyone's worship? Why come up here to hide in the quiet?"
Kuroha shook his head, popped the tab, and tipped his chin up for a long drink, idly tapping the bottom of the can with a toothpick.
"I'll go down in a bit. Let Oguri and the others enjoy themselves first. If us trainers just stand there, they'll probably feel like they have to behave—even when they're eating."
"…You really do think too much."
Fumino looked at him like he was hopeless, then lifted her drink and clinked it against his.
"So, when we return to Central in triumph—what are you thinking?"
"Thinking?" Kuroha said. "I'm just hoping the paparazzi won't block my way for a few days once we're back."
"Haha. Yeah, that's definitely not happening."
Fumino laughed with gleeful schadenfreude. "With your age and the terrifying results you've put up these past six months, the media are probably going to milk you for the rest of your life."
"Then don't blame me when I toss them into the trash."
Up on the rooftop, the banter resumed.
Between two trainers who'd fought side by side for half a year, the atmosphere was unusually relaxed, light, and easy.
They chatted for a while, until the air gradually quieted.
At the railing, Fumino rested her chin on her arms, tilting her head as she watched the familiar handsome young man beside her with his headache-filled expression under the moonlight. Without realizing it, a smile rose on her lips—genuine, from the heart.
Then, softly, she spoke.
"Kuroha… thank you."
"For what?" Kuroha lifted a brow and looked at her.
"Thank you… for letting me see a view like this."
Fumino gave her soda can a little shake, her eyes bright.
"If I hadn't followed you, I'd probably spend my whole life as a mediocre trainer at Central, just getting by, running in circles in my tiny little patch."
"I wouldn't have even dared to imagine that one day I'd be standing on the world stage—watching the partners beside me win honors like this."
Those six months overseas had blown Fumino's world wide open.
She'd not only recognized, with brutal clarity, the canyon-like gap between herself and Kuroha—she'd also truly felt how different the Central circuit was from the world circuit.
Back then, her dream had been—
To be comparable to, or even surpass, the famous "Track Magician" of Central—Hideto.
To carve out her own name at Central, instead of forever being "Hideto's daughter."
Looking back now, that dream felt… ordinary. Narrow.
Because—
Even if Fumino had benefited enormously from Kuroha and Oguri Cap's spotlight, Oguri Cap had still, under Fumino's guidance, taken an international G2—one of the heavy-hitting races.
What did that mean?
Even her father—Hideto, who'd been chasing overseas success for nearly a decade—still hadn't won even a single overseas G2 in his entire career.
Or, putting it another way: across all of Central Tracen right now, aside from "Chasing Light," there simply weren't three overseas results that could truly be called heavyweight.
Even if Fumino's glory would be dimmed by the fact that she'd served as an assistant trainer—
Even that "dimmed" glory alone was enough to stand eye-to-eye with years of Hideto's struggle.
Kuroha froze for a beat, then spoke in a low voice.
"Weren't you complaining before that you didn't even want to come?"
"…S-shut up!"
Fumino's cheeks warmed. She looked away and muttered, "Anyway… these past six months, you really did help me a lot."
"Still, there's something I've always wanted to ask you."
"What is it?" Kuroha asked, puzzled.
Fumino's expression tangled for a moment before she finally said it.
"After the Arima Kinen… are you really planning to marry March…?"
Kuroha nodded without thinking.
"Yeah. That's something Hoshino and I already decided."
"And then… there's also Inari One and Ardan and the others?"
"…That's what they decided. I don't really have a choice."
Even Kuroha sounded a little helpless saying it.
Sometimes, even a trainer had to yield on certain things—especially when your girls formed an alliance. Their combat power was scarier than anything they displayed on the track.
"…With that many, you really are something."
Fumino's tone went strange as her gaze slid toward the young man's lower body.
Kuroha gave a light cough and straightened his back.
"More than enough, alright? You can question anything else, but not that."
"Mhm."
Fumino nodded solemnly—then her tone suddenly drifted, becoming oddly airy.
"Since you're marrying so many… how many do you think you'll end up marrying in the future?"
Kuroha felt awkward, but answered honestly anyway.
"Maybe more. If I really meet someone I like."
Even if he'd been swept into a "big blanket together" situation by his horse girls, if he searched his conscience, he couldn't say he disliked it at all.
After all—getting to spend your life with the people you love. What was there to be precious about?
"Marrying horse girls doesn't really have a set limit," Fumino said softly. "But I've never looked into it… Once you've married horse girls, can you still marry three humans?"
"Marry humans…"
Kuroha echoed her question absentmindedly as he drank.
Then he suddenly jolted, as if struck.
He turned his head.
Fumino's face was flushed, but her gaze was unwavering as she met his eyes.
In that instant, he understood.
"…I… don't know," Kuroha said after a brief silence. "I'd have to check."
"It's allowed," Fumino said.
"Uh…"
"I said—it's allowed!"
Even though this heroic, prince-like beauty was mortified to the point that her pale neck had gone a deep crimson, she still forced herself to keep looking at him.
"…"
"I've already gone this far and you still won't—mmph…!"
Fumino didn't even finish the sentence before an arm tightened around her waist, yanking her into a warm, broad embrace.
The next second, heat brushed her face—and her lips were sealed.
Her pupils widened instantly.
Then she slowly closed her eyes. The rigid tension drained from her body at once, and three soft, muffled whimpers slipped from her throat.
…
Several minutes later, on the rooftop.
A man and a woman stood at the railing, both awkward, looking like their souls had been incinerated to ash.
After a stretch of bizarre silence, Kuroha spoke first.
"Weren't you the one who went straight at me? Why are you still this shy?"
"…Shut up… I'm not like you. I don't have that much experience. This was my first time making the first move, okay."
Fumino turned her head away. Her cheeks were so hot you could've fried an egg on them as she muttered.
Then she stole a quick glance at him from the corner of her eye, and said in a tiny voice:
"Tonight… I won't lock my door. You'd better take advantage while I still have the courage today…"
"…Anyway. Tomorrow, I'm not doing this."
The moment she said it, the violet-haired woman bolted for the door, feet pounding, then clattered down the stairs.
Right after that, Kuroha heard her in the stairwell—half screaming, half losing her mind in embarrassment.
"…Ughhh!"
(End of Chapter)
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