Chapter 104: Then, Praise Me a Lot

『APOLLO RAINBOW takes first place!! Achieving a long-distance G1 three-peat for the first time since Symboli Rudolf—and even setting a new Japan record!! Now utterly unrivaled in domestic long-distance races!! Overwhelming the competition with boundless stamina!!』

I collapse onto the turf in a sprawl and stare up at the crescent moon hanging in a clear sky. One hand on my chest, rising and falling slow, I turn toward the stands.

A sea of people stretches endlessly, voices calling my name from all sides.

Rolled-up magazines and clenched fists rise and fall in rhythm, swaying with the Apollo chant. Just at the edge of my vision, I catch a transparent droplet falling from Special Week’s cheek.

I think about calling out to her—but don’t. Instead, I lean against the railing and force myself up, staggering toward the crowd. I raise my hand, wave, and bow deep in thanks.

A winner must carry themselves with pride. If the winner falters, the losers lose their place.

Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t feel guilty. Stand tall. That’s the duty of the one who wins. Chasing your dream means stepping over someone else’s.

Too exhausted for a proper victory lap, I wrap up the winner’s circle interview quickly and retreat underground. I don’t remember what I said, but judging by the crowd’s roar, I didn’t mess up.

I stumble through the dim tunnel, one hand trailing the concrete wall. My shoulders shake as I try to steady my breath. I’m drained. The limits I’ve been pushing finally catch up.

Then, familiar footsteps. Quicker than usual. They stop in front of me, and steady my swaying body with a firm embrace.

“Ah, careful there… Welcome back, Apollo.”

“…Mmm. I’m home.”

“You’re completely worn out, huh? Can you even walk?”

His scent. His warmth. It’s like my stamina and spirit are coming back. They’re not, of course—but being welcomed by someone you love makes you feel like anything’s possible.

Or maybe it’s the relief of hearing Tomio’s voice—because this time, my legs give out for real.

“…Sorry, I can’t. And I’m so sleepy I can’t move anymore.”

“Got it. I’ll carry you to the waiting room. Just hold on, okay?”

“…Please.”

Tomio turns his back to me, bends his knees, and forms a cradle with his hands. Running on empty, desperate to close my eyes, I lean into his broad back and let go. The sweat, the dirt—none of it matters.

His hands slide under my thighs and lift me. It’s shaky at first, but then he adjusts his grip. His body becomes a quiet, swaying cradle.

“…Nn.”

“You’ve got time before the winner’s live. Rest until then.”

“…Yeah. Thanks.”

I can’t move anymore. Darkness closes in. Wrapped in Tomio’s warmth, I sink into sleep, heart quiet and full. I gave it everything—nothing left behind.

Just before I fade, something slips out.

“Tomio… I love you…”

………………

…Huh? Did I say that out loud? Did he hear me? I’m too sleepy to tell…

And so, with the truth of that slip-of-the-tongue left floating, the Tenno Sho (Spring) ends. As we rest, preparations for Europe begin in earnest.

—

Several days later, in the trainer’s room, I stare at the trophy shelf, reflecting on the race.

They’re all here—the Japan Derby, Kikuka Sho, Stayers Stakes, Arima Kinen, and now the Tenno Sho (Spring) shield. The winner’s leis are stored elsewhere, but the trophies sit on quiet display.

Among them, the shield stands out. The spring shield I longed for most. Trophies are fine, but the shield… the shield feels sacred.

Officially called the Crested Shield, it’s lauan wood, 56 centimeters tall, 49.5 wide, gold-plated chrysanthemum crest shining at its heart.

I remember having to wear white gloves to receive it—on top of my racing gloves. Slightly surreal. But even that turned into a warm memory.

The sight brings everything back. A reminder of the path I’ve run. I glance affectionately at the trophies and their photos, then return to the sofa and flip through the papers.

The world’s buzzing. Seiun Sky’s racing overseas—Hong Kong and Australia. Jararaja, who came fifth, announced his European plans. And still, the headlines keep circling back to me.

Winning a 3200-meter G1 against a stacked field. Breaking the record by nearly eight seconds—3:06.1. It’d be weirder if no one talked about it.

Looking back, it was a seven-length domination. Sure, I still have flaws, but maybe it’s because of those flaws that I could break through.

Beyond the “Unknown Zone”—into something else. A place past exhaustion, past excitement, past despair. Just pure speed at the peak of possibility.

Maybe… the “Divine Zone.” If I can master it, even Kayf Tara-san won’t be unreachable. Just brushing that edge made the race worth it.

The downside was the crash. That level of control, in a high-stakes G1, against a strong field—it burned me out like never before. Tomio says my habit of over-pacing is “the price of being a front-runner,” and that “even your cautious side is endearing,” but… in Europe, where stamina management decides everything, it’s a real risk.

Still, in that instant—when I grazed the Divine Zone—I felt something. A key, maybe. If I want to rein in the over-pacing, I’ll have to hold on to that moment. I’m still not complete.

…Even after the Tenno Sho (Spring), Week 1 of May, there’s no time to rest. We leave for Europe immediately to prep for the G2 Yorkshire Cup in Week 4.

We’ve been preparing since before Dubai, but the real work starts now. With El-chan already studying abroad, I’ll be training at Chantilly, France. A full team is mobilizing. No half-measures allowed. The pressure’s intense.

We’ve cut back on interviews and media. Twinkle’s monthly spread got exclusive access—everyone else is grumbling. But that’s not my problem. The adults can deal with it.

I’ve done all I can. I called my parents to say goodbye. I’d already told them at New Year’s, so this was just the final confirmation. Still, when they quietly said, “Have a safe trip, take care,” my eyes went warm.

I said my farewells to Spe-chan and the others.

Spe-chan met my gaze and said, “I’ll be waiting at the Arima Kinen. I won’t lose to you.”

Grass-chan sighed, “First El, now Apollo-chan… it’s gonna be lonely without you.”

Then, straight-faced, she hit me with: “Don’t lose in Europe, okay?” She meant it.

Sei-chan teased, “Maybe we’ll run into each other during your overseas adventure~”

King-chan declared, “I’ll be watching your success closely.”

Chairman Rudolf warned, “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Maruzan-san cheered, “Go out there and have the time of your life!”

Helios-senpai and Palmer-senpai promised, “If you run into trouble, come to us anytime!”

Takion-san smirked, “Not like I’m worried or anything.”

Bakushin-O-san added, “Even overseas, strive to be the exemplary Bakushin stayer and bring home the best results!” That one left me a little confused, but—well, I got all kinds of encouragement.

Of course, Tomio’s coming with me. He’s probably had the busiest prep of all. For local connections, he’s leaning on Chantilly’s Training School and Trainer Tojo—who once went to France with Taiki Shuttle.

It sounds like a slog, listed out like this. But honestly—we’re thrilled. Europe is the stage we’ve been dreaming of.

After muttering to myself while flipping through a sports paper in the trainer’s office, I leaned back against the sofa and pressed my lips together.

“…So, Angely-chan is finally making her move…”

Tucked in the corner of the article was news of her next race. A serious contender for the Stayers Million.

Kayf Tara-san’s headed straight to the Gold Cup in June Week 4. I’m running the G2 Yorkshire Cup in May Week 4. Angely’s aiming for the G3 Henry II Stakes in June Week 1—same as Jararaja.

Angely. Like me, a first-year senior. Mid-to-long-distance specialist. I’ve never met her, but I’ve got a feeling we’d get along.

She was born in Europe, broke through in Australia. Won graded stakes, even G1s. Took the 3200m G1 Sydney Cup during The Championship—a whirlwind two-week festival with eight G1s.

Her eyes are set on the Stayers Million. The Henry II Stakes is a qualifier. She’s gunning for it.

Me. Kayf Tara-san. Angely. Jara Jara. And others lurking in the shadows.

I slide down the sofa and stare at the ceiling.

I was thrilled. Nervous. On edge. I want to win. What if I lose? What if the turf doesn’t suit me? But I’d managed decent results in Dubai. Heavy ground aside, I should have some adaptability to foreign grass.

Still, it was scary. The anxiety and excitement of stepping into the unknown wouldn’t let up.

As I zoned out, the trainer’s face appeared, blocking the ceiling light. Even in the backlight, I felt my cheeks heat under his gaze. I hid my mouth behind my wrist and looked away.

"You’re all slumped over. What’s up?"

"Just… thinking about Europe. A lot."

"It’s gonna be tough from here on out."

"...Yeah."

…After the Tenno Sho, in my dazed state, I’d let slip an “I love you.” Whether Tomio heard it or not, I had no idea. I couldn’t exactly ask, Hey, Tomio, did you catch my confession? So we’ve just been pretending it never happened.

But he was carrying me at the time. His head was right in front of me—which means his ears were, too. The underground passage wasn’t that loud. There’s no way he missed it.

Besides, everything I do screams I’m head over heels. At this point, unless he’s completely clueless, he has to know.

And I haven’t forgotten either. That thing he said—Apollo is my forever~ What was that supposed to mean? That he’s crazy about me, right? But after dropping a line like that, he never brought it up again. Just left me hanging.

…Unless even a cutie like Apollo-chan is just another girl on his “keep” list?

"Ughhh…"

"Huh? What’s wrong?"

"...Nothing."

Realistically, it’s not impossible. He’s kind, dependable, good-looking (by my standards), and while work keeps him busy, he makes decent money. On paper, he’s not the one being chosen—he’s the one doing the choosing. And knowing him the way I do only makes me believe it more.

But still. Couldn’t he at least react to my feelings? I get that he’s an adult with adult responsibilities. But my heart’s on fire, and rationality’s gone out the window. Why won’t he burn with me?

...From my perspective, Tomio’s just being the perfect, responsible adult. But I don’t seem to get that yet. Honestly, he’s doing great. But maybe sharing one personality between the two of us—or maybe just this overwhelming crush—is making it hard to think straight.

When I looked back at the ceiling, Tomio's face was gone. He was buried in paperwork, probably reviewing data on Angely-chan and Kayf Tara-san. Then switching windows to sort through new interview requests—domestic and international. Just swamped.

At this rate, he’s probably forgotten. That promise to hug me tight and praise me a bunch. Even if he hasn’t, he’s clearly glued to that computer. Bringing it up would just feel like I’m interrupting. And I’d feel too guilty.

Well. The physical exhaustion would heal with rest. All I had to do was recover in the three weeks until my next race.

But my heart? For that, I’d need his help. And the excuse of romantic feelings to justify leaning on him. I really did want to depend on him, but...

As I closed my eyes with that thought, I heard the sound of Tomio rising from his chair. The floor creaked faintly as he approached.

Cracking one eye open to shoot him a look, he said, “Finished my work. Mind if I sit next to you?” With a grunt, I pushed myself up. Tomio settled beside me, leaving just a fist-sized gap. The sofa dipped under our combined weight, bringing us a little closer.

“Did you need something from me?”

“Not exactly. I'm here to grant your wish.”

“Huh?”

“After the Tenno Sho… you said you wanted me to hug you tight and praise you a lot, right?”

“Wha—? ...Huh?!”

“Here, go ahead. A promise is a promise.”

Tomio grinned like a kid playing a prank, arms open at close range. I froze, hands clamped over my mouth.

Wait. No—I said that. I wanted him to hug and praise me. But now that he was actually offering, I... felt weirdly resistant. Too happy to handle it. Like I might die of bliss overload.

I reached toward his chest—hesitating, again and again. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might punch straight through my ribs.

How do you even hug? Is this okay? How close do I get? Arms around his neck? Under the shoulders? Waist? I don’t know! I don’t know, damn it! What am I supposed to do, Momozawa Tomio?!

I looked up, silently pleading. He tilted his head, like C’mon, bring it in, completely unfazed.

With an upward glance, I inched closer, asking for permission with every move. My thigh brushed against his leg as I peered up at him from below.

“...You sure? Really, really sure?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Uh, um... sorry in advance if I squeeze too hard and break something?”

“...Let’s try to avoid that.”

This wasn’t our first hug. We’d embraced after races. Held hands. He’s praised me before, too.

So why was I acting like such a coward now? This should’ve been no big deal. Useless Rainbow. Idiot.

I swallowed hard and whispered my resolve.

“O-okay... here I go.”

“Y-yeah...”

I shifted closer, pressing my thigh flush against his. Tentatively, I laid a hand on his chest, then let my cheek rest against his collarbone, my ear flattening slightly. Sensing this, Tomio slid an arm around my back, gently wrapping me in his warmth.

Euphoria detonated in my brain. His scent, his heartbeat, his breathing—his everything—surrounded me. I felt like I might pass out. And then, just to finish me off, he whispered by my ear:

“You did great.”

I tensed, every muscle clenched, barely holding on.

“Apollo, you’re amazing.”

“...!”

“Nobody knows how hard you’ve worked better than I do. Seriously… congratulations.”

“...Nn...!”

Between the hammering of my heart and the embarrassment, another feeling swelled inside—tears. My throat spasmed, a sob slipping out.

Noticing, Tomio moved one hand to the top of my head, stroking my hair in slow, steady motions.

“There’s still a lot ahead of us. But let me say this first: Apollo, thank you. Really. For letting me be your trainer.”

“S-stop... hic... I get it, okay...?”

“S-sorry, I’ll stop. But some things need to be said.”

“...Uu... idiot...”

These tears weren’t from love. They came from something simpler—being seen. Being acknowledged. Raw joy and vulnerability, all tangled up.

I’d pushed myself through brutal training, day after day, terrified that a single slip could erase everything. I clung to hope and dreams in that tense, uncertain space.

And now, the person I trusted most was holding me, recognizing everything. The relief, the release, the sheer joy—it all hit at once.

We were here at the Training Center School, far from our families. For adolescents, leaving parental protection is a massive shift. In this dorm-based system, immersed in the Twinkle Series sports festival, trainers had to become guardians too.

To me, Momozawa Tomio was more than a trainer. He was my partner, my protector—and the boy I loved. All at once.

And in this moment... I was receiving the kind of celebration and embrace that, back home, would’ve come from my parents.

Tears streamed down my face, emotions blurring together.

Longing, affection, respect, gratitude, humility, shame, relief, giddiness—every feeling spilled over until the romantic love I felt for him blurred into something else. Something closer to the love a child feels for a parent. That storm of emotion dripped from my eyes, staining his shirt as I kept my face buried, too overwhelmed to look up.

What I felt from him was vast—parental, proud, protective… and maybe, just maybe, a sliver of—

“...Thank you... thank you...”

My voice trembled with tears as I repeated it, knowing he might not even understand. Still, he held me tighter, murmuring his own quiet thanks for my existence, over and over.