Chapter 14: The Dreamlike World the Grass Calls To

Riding the excitement from my race with King-chan, I ended up going straight into the Winning Live while still riding that high. Well, the short gap between the race and the live probably didn’t help either.

And so, my live was a complete disaster.

I missed the pitch from the very first note, stepped left when I should’ve stepped right, and left King-chan looking confused—that was only the beginning. I messed up my positioning, threw the entire formation off, and in my panic, I went tumbling spectacularly across the stage.

Still, maybe that failure cooled my head a little, because I managed to return to my usual performance by the second half.

King-chan gave me an exasperated-yet-worried look, and my trainer silently nodded as he patted me on the head. Suzuka-san, who had come to cheer us on, smiled at me with a nostalgic expression.

"Maybe you got nervous because it was your first graded race."

For some reason, Spe-chan beside her had gone completely pale. She’d been bragging confidently that she’d nail her debut race soon, but judging by that face, she’d definitely been neglecting her Winning Live practice.

—

The morning after the race—Sunday—I found myself at the park near my home, which was unusual for me. I used to come here often for races when I was a kid. Thankfully, no elementary school races were being held today.

As for why I came here, it was simple: I wanted to confirm those sensations I’d felt during yesterday’s race.

Crossing the little bridge over the creek and stepping onto the turf track—patchy in places—I saw almost no one around. Aside from a group of elementary school kids, probably my juniors, kicking a soccer ball around on the field inside the course, there wasn’t much to watch out for.

I took off my jersey and stood at the starting line in the same gym uniform I’d worn yesterday.

At my own timing, I launched forward, pushing off the turf and accelerating in one burst. My foot sank for just a moment into the grass, and the rebound sent my body springing forward.

Cutting through the wind hammering against me, I pushed myself to top speed, racing between the blue sky and the green turf.

It was a course I knew well. I eased my pace slightly and leaned into the turn, kicking off the still-intact outer grass before stretching my legs again down the straight.

The rush of wind in my ears grew louder, and the force of my stride pounding against the turf burst forth freely.

…Hmm. Something feels completely off.

Even as I ran the course again and again with breaks in between, I didn’t feel even a hint of joy. Instead of that sense of exhilaration, all I could think about were the video games I used to get in elementary school as rewards whenever I won races. Nothing like what I’d felt yesterday came back at all.

Maybe I’d asked the wrong person. Suzuka-san talked about “the joy of running full force across an empty turf,” but I don’t think that applies to me. Yesterday was probably just a strange fluke, I decided—and in a way, returning to my usual self was almost comforting.

Finished with my little experiment, I stretched and started walking. Then my eyes drifted toward the patch of lawn beside the course.

I’m a little tired… Maybe I’ll take a nap before heading home.

Drawn in by the grass, I lay down, embraced by the warm afternoon sunlight. Before long, my consciousness drifted away into the world of dreams.

—

Yep, she’s just sleeping. Hey—hey, Wee, wake up!

She’s the same as always…

Yeah, but during races and lives she’s totally different…

Something noisy drifted into my ears.

…Why am I sleeping in a place like this?

Well, it is Wee. Anyway, hurry up and wake her already.

I’m trying! Hey! Don’t fall asleep in a place like this!

I felt something poking my cheek.

When I opened my eyes, three vaguely familiar faces were peering down at me.

"Ah—it's the Brat Trio!"

"““We’re not brats!””"

I finally remembered! I didn’t recognize them at first because they were wearing their middle school uniforms, but these guys were my classmates back in elementary school. They were the loud, energetic boys—not very smart—and they got scolded by the teachers constantly. I secretly referred to them as the Brat Trio.

But they were also some of the few classmates who ever talked to quiet, introverted me, and we’d even hung out a couple of times. Well… “hung out” meaning things like agreeing to join the class dodgeball tournament in exchange for a rare monster in an alternate color.

Come to think of it, they were also the ones who said, “You’re a horse girl, so you’ll go to Tracen Academy, right?” If not for sheer luck, I could’ve easily ended up trapped in some awful, exploitative sports-club life because of them.

They owe me for that. Definitely.

I thought about what I should demand as compensation, but if it was a game from this year or last year, there was a chance they hadn’t played it. Better gather intel first.

As some old important person supposedly said: know your enemy, and you’ll win every battle.

"Hey, what games from last year do you have?"

"Wee, I get that you’re the same as always, but could you at least look around first?"

When I stood up as he said that, I realized that maybe fifty people—or something close to that—were surrounding me, all staring in my direction.

There was a boy clutching a soccer ball, a horse-girl who looked like she’d been out for a run, and several middle schoolers wearing the same uniforms as the Brat Trio. Unfortunately, none of their faces rang any bells; I couldn’t tell if they were from a different elementary school or if I’d simply forgotten them.

With my half-asleep brain, there was no way I could fully understand what was going on.

"Um… what is this?"

"Wee, you’re a bona fide graded-race horse girl now. And a freshly crowned winner at that. Of course people want to see you. Plus, plenty of folks already knew you used to run around here, so I bet a lot of them were cheering for you. Though honestly, the fact that you’re just sleeping in a place like this probably has a lot to do with the crowd too."

Whoa—what a surprisingly decent explanation coming from a so-called brat. Is this the power of winning a graded race? Amazing.

"But how did you know I won yesterday?"

"Hey, Wee. We were there cheering for you, you know? You kept looking our way during the live, so we figured you knew we came. And even if we hadn’t been there in person, there’s no way we wouldn’t know. Your childhood friends since kindergarten took home a graded race title!"

Apparently, shockingly, we’d known each other since kindergarten. I’d only thought of them as those convenient guys I talked to now and then, but I guess we were actually closer than that. Since it was all before I regained memories of my past life, everything from that time had gotten fuzzy and I’d forgotten completely. My bad.

Also—wait. Does that mean they saw my disaster of a live yesterday? Even if we were going to meet, did it have to be now?

"Anyway, we were heading home from club activities and passed by the park when we saw a crowd. We got closer and—there you were, passed out on the grass. Seriously, how does something like this even happen?"

"Well… I kinda thought maybe running might actually be fun…?"

As I filled them in on everything, halfway through—

"Hold up, Wee. Sorry, but talking about this here is a bad idea. Let’s move somewhere else."

We relocated to a bench far from the crowd.

Maybe it was because they listened well, but before I knew it, I’d rambled on about the RPG I was currently hooked on, then somehow drifted into race stories and training anecdotes. Surprisingly, the topic they reacted to the least was anything involving my trainer. On the other hand, they were extremely invested when I talked about King-chan, Spe-chan, and Grass-chan. Well, they’re teenage boys—of course they’d be more interested in stories about cute girls their age.

For some reason, they also told me I shouldn’t talk about racing or training too much. They said it with unusually serious faces, but they also promised to give me shiny-color monsters regularly if I kept quiet, so I agreed. I still have no idea what that was about.

After parting ways with them—whether because it was Sunday and I’d gone out, or because I’d worn myself out with so much conversation—I was suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion.

There was no way I had the energy to run back after that, so I took the train back to Tracen Academy.

When I returned to the trainer’s office, my trainer was, rather unusually, stationed firmly in front of the television.

Trainer-san was holding a pen in one hand and the remote in the other. It looked like he had been watching some recorded footage while taking notes. On the paused screen was…

"Taiki-senpai?"

Displayed was Taiki Shuttle-senpai, Suzuka-san’s friend, running in a rather revealing outfit. Trainer-san started mumbling some excuse, but Taiki-senpai was famous for her impressive physique.

Ah. So that’s what this is.
This must be what it feels like to accidentally walk into your parents’ room without knocking.

…Or so I thought, but apparently I was mistaken.

He told me he was reviewing footage from today’s race, and that outfit was actually Taiki-senpai’s official racing costume.

Come to think of it, I had a racing outfit made too. Was mine going to end up that skimpy as well? I had automatically assumed it would be something modest like Suzuka-san’s, but since I dumped the whole design process on Trainer-san out of laziness, there was a frightening possibility I’d be made to run around looking like I was wearing a swimsuit.

Just as anxiety crept in, Trainer-san said my racing outfit had arrived earlier today. As I hesitated in surprise, he carefully lifted a box down from the shelf.

My heart thumped as I wondered what kind of design his tastes would produce. Meanwhile, Trainer-san confidently opened the box.

Inside was a white blouse decorated with embroidered racing motifs, paired with a long-sleeved red jacket. The red flared skirt, trimmed with striking black lining, had a refined look while still being short enough not to get in the way.

Once I put on the ribbon at the collar and the white gloves, even I had to admit I looked like a well-bred young lady from a good family.

Peeking into the mirror, the girl reflected there wore an oddly satisfied expression.

Relieved that it wasn’t a midriff-baring or shoulder-exposing outfit, I felt Trainer-san gently pat my head with a very pleased smile on his face.