(Sorry guys, I am swamped with work for the week. In addition, Madrid is sweltering hot recently and I am working outdoor for the week. Damn it!!!)
Chapter 64. Inspiration for a Gift
After arriving at the hotel, only a short walk from York Racecourse, Shuta An brought Mejiro Dober to the buffet restaurant.
Even though they had already eaten on the plane, the moment Mejiro Dober noticed the absence of the oddly heavy "British specialty cuisine," her mood visibly lifted. Without hesitation, she guided her trainer—now in a lighter outfit—straight toward the buffet line, clearly intending to enjoy a second meal.
"Uma Musume always have room for dessert," she declared with absolute confidence, catching Shuta An's gaze before he could respond.
"I believe that," he replied flatly, recalling the weekly dessert consumption rate back at the Sadalsuud activity room in Central Tracen Academy.
"Anyway, the sun's still up, and I can't sleep with daylight outside. Better to eat again, take a walk, then sleep at a normal time."
Mejiro Dober had already mapped out the rest of the day, and her plan included dragging him out afterward.
Shuta An did not object. Truthfully, there was little around York Racecourse he had not already seen last year. England's surroundings, in his impression, rarely changed within such a short span of time.
Still, Dober's mood was unusually light, and he chose not to dampen it.
"It's just a walk," he said, nodding. "No problem."
A simple post-meal stroll, nothing more. And more importantly, there were no reporters to manage here. He understood well enough that Dober simply wanted time alone with him.
"I hope the URA Association in England behaves itself for once," he thought as he watched her move through the buffet with unusual energy.
Later, when they stepped out for their walk, the streets around York Racecourse were quiet—almost empty, as if the city had paused for breath. Hand in hand, they moved slowly along the perimeter of the venue.
"There really hasn't changed at all," Mejiro Dober murmured, looking up at the familiar gate.
"If you want rapid change, you're looking in the wrong place," Shuta An replied. "You should visit Mejiro Ardan instead. I heard from Rudolf and Ramonu recently, Ardan went south for some kind of exhibition."
"An exhibition…" Dober's eyes brightened slightly. "So Ardan-nee really did leave the Mejiro family in her own way."
"Probably the same feeling you had last year," he said, gently releasing her hand and pulling her into a brief embrace.
"Let's go. There's nothing here worth lingering on. A park nearby might be better."
Dober agreed at once.
Back in the hotel suite later that night, Shuta An returned to his usual workflow. While Mejiro Dober settled in comfortably—either resting or watching television—he went into the small office room alone, opened his laptop, and began checking in on Sapporo.
He first contacted Tokai Teio through a voice call.
The response, however, came from someone else.
"Trainer~ Teio-senpai is playing a fighting game with Curren-chan! She can't pick up right now!"
It was Kurofune's voice.
Shuta An blinked once. "It should only be around seven in Sapporo. Why are you all playing games this late?"
"Ah! Is it already seven?!" Tokai Teio's voice immediately followed, far too panicked to be innocent.
The answer was obvious: an all-nighter in progress.
Shuta An exhaled slowly. "Finish the match, then go to sleep. Don't make a habit of this—especially you, Teio."
The chatter on the other end immediately quieted.
After a brief pause, he added,
"Adjust your schedule over the next two days. I don't want your rhythm syncing with mine right now."
"Yes!" came the unified response.
Only then did he notice something missing.
"Rice Shower isn't there?" he asked.
"She slept early!" Curren Chan answered brightly. "Curren gave her room card because it was too noisy here!"
"That's good," he said, easing slightly.
At least Rice Shower had a proper rest.
He ended the call, leaning back for a moment.
As he did, his thoughts lingered—not on Sapporo's chaos, but on the quiet certainty that, no matter how scattered things became elsewhere, each of them was still moving forward in their own way.