Chapter 84: Peony Snow

Some time had passed since I returned to my hometown, and the New Year had finally arrived. After ringing in “Happy New Year” with Tomio over a video call, I got permission from my parents and decided to go with him for the first shrine visit of the year.

After a short sleep, I met up with him early in the morning and we headed for a fairly large shrine nearby. We’d already watched the first sunrise last year, so we didn’t feel the need to chase it again. More than anything, I was just happy we could start the year together.

“Tomio, happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year. Well then, let’s get walking.”

“Mhm.”

A heavy snowfall had piled up over the break—about twenty centimeters (~7.87 inches) of soft, fluffy snow covering the ground. Still, it was easier to walk on than ice, which was a huge relief with only one good eye. Someone had already shoveled a two-meter-wide path, so we had a clear way forward.

In the kind of biting cold that made your jaw clench, we started walking toward the shrine. By now, holding hands was second nature, and we naturally reached for each other. But then Tomio—clearly not from snow country—started wobbling like a startled rabbit.

“Whoa—!”

“Huh?”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa, I’m slipping—!”

Early morning snow country meant deadly ground. Ice patches were the worst, but even packed snow could trip you if you weren’t careful. Tomio, evidently, had never learned the penguin walk locals knew by heart.

“This is what happens when you don’t wear proper snow boots!”

“I didn’t think it’d be this snowy! Help me, Apollo!!”

“Ehh~?”

His balance went downhill fast. In seconds, he was flailing like a character in a slapstick sketch. Hilarious to watch, but slipping at the start of the year felt like bad luck I didn’t want tempting fate.

I’d gotten used to life with one eye. I planted my feet and grabbed him by the waist. With Uma Musume strength, lifting a grown man one-handed wasn’t a problem. We froze in place like a ballroom scene—despite the height difference, it was easy to steady him.

“There we go.”

“Whoa—?!”

As I held him, I noticed how light he was. “You okay?” I asked. He nodded repeatedly, eyes wide, looking like his soul had just flown out. Still too shaken to speak.

“…………”

“…………”

I braced with my legs and kept him close, a weird silence stretching out as we stared at each other. Just when I thought he’d look away—after I’d gone through all the trouble—he suddenly faceplanted into the snow.

“H-Hey, what’re you doing?!”

“...Just cooling my head.”

“?”

“I’ll be more careful now. C’mon, let’s go.”

“Oh, okay.”

Tomio trudged forward, snow still clinging to his hair, and I let him pull me along as we made our way to the shrine.

The shrine, quietly nestled in this rural town, had a decent crowd. Dense enough to need a little twisting when passing people, but not so packed you’d get swept away. Still easy to get separated—so we kept holding hands.

We joined the long line leading to the offering bell, passing the time with idle chatter. The way he sniffled from the cold was oddly cute.

Time passed quickly when you were talking to someone you loved. Before long, we were standing before the red-and-white bell rope. I still hadn’t settled on a wish, but I went with the usuals:

Please let me become the strongest stayer.
Please keep me healthy.
Please don’t let Tomio get hurt.
Please make Tomio love me more.

Okay, maybe that last one was a bit much. Whatever.

I tossed my offering into the wooden box, and we rang the bell together. We stood straight, bowed, pressed our hands together, and closed our eyes, sending wishes to whatever god was on duty that day. I peeked—Tomio was doing the same.

“…………”

It felt wrong to speak while praying. Wondering what he wished for, I stepped back from the bell.

“So, what’d you wish for, Tomio?”

“Me? Apollo’s health and success.”

“So serious~”

“That’s normal, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t wish for anything for yourself?”

“And what about you?”

“I wished to become the strongest stayer and to avoid injuries. Oh, and that you don’t get hurt, either.”

“Ah... I appreciate it.”

“Just ‘appreciate it’ isn’t enough. If you collapsed, I’d be too worried to even race, so seriously, be careful, okay?”

“...I’ll do my best.”

“‘Do my best’ isn’t good enough. Promise me.”

"I’ll... try harder..."

We thought about drawing fortune slips, but the line at the stall was absurdly long, so we gave up. The crowd had doubled, stretching the offering line even further.

As we left the shrine, chatting about how glad we were to have come early, I suddenly remembered something Tomio once mentioned—that he’d never built a snowman or an igloo.

"Hey, let’s make a snowman."

"Huh? Why so sudden?"

"C’mon, it’s not like we’ve got anything to do back home. Let’s make one together."

"Fine, whatever."

"I’ll make the bottom part!"

"Then I’ll do the top."

The park near my house was untouched. Perfect. Though Tracen Academy saw snow, it was never enough to build anything decent—so I’d always wanted to try it properly.

They said last night’s snowfall was 20 centimeters, but first, I needed to check the snow’s quality. Dry, powdery stuff was useless. I dragged a finger through it, drawing an umbrella and carving our names underneath. Yeah—this snow was just right. The good kind. Sturdy enough to build something that would last for a few hours, at least.

"…………"

...What am I even doing?

I took a step back and stared at the little drawing in the snow. Ridiculously lovey-dovey. This wasn’t like me at all—

"Apollo, what’re you doing?"

"Wah—! N-Nothing! Don’t look!"

Whipping around, I used my tail to sweep away the evidence. The heavy gouge told me it was gone. Umbrella, names, all of it. Forcing a smile, I bent down and started packing snow fast. Tomio gave me a weird look but didn’t say anything. He just kept rolling his snowball.

Under the gray sky, we got absorbed in the simple work. Just rolling snowballs and packing snow. Child’s play. But there was something addictive about it—the feel of the snow, the clean cold, the crunch under our boots.

Somewhere in the rhythm, memories started surfacing. Hazy flashes of childhood winters. Back when I used to sprint through snowy fields before ever hearing of Tracen. The feeling of breaking through untouched powder, the silence that came with it, the illusion I could run forever.

But we’re not built for forever. Even as a kid, I’d run till my legs gave out. Eventually, I’d collapse. Dive straight into the snow, sweating, breath fogging up the cold air. It always caught me. A soft, freezing bed where I could lie and cool off, watching the clouds shift overhead. That was winter for me.

Snow wasn’t just weather. It was something sacred. It shaped my drive, my rhythm. Even now, it lived in the background of my mind, part of my inner landscape—the domain I’d created. I owed something to it. Couldn’t even bring myself to sleep with my feet pointed toward the snow’s grace.

"…Forever, huh."

"…Did you say something?"

"Just thinking—does ‘forever’ even exist in this world?"

"Whoa, getting philosophical all of a sudden…"

"We say things like ‘eternity’ and ‘infinity,’ but... do they really mean anything? Even this snowman we’re making—it’ll melt soon."

I rolled a massive snowball back to him—close to two meters tall now. Tomio was dragging his own, about a meter wide, and panting. He hefted it up with a grunt, and together we locked it into place.

...Our snowman was huge. Bigger than the jungle gym. Its bottom half was so big I could barely see the top. But even something this ridiculous wouldn’t last. The thought made me weirdly sad.

Then Tomio leaned in and adjusted my scarf, tugging it snug around my neck.

"…Maybe forever doesn’t exist. But even if it doesn’t, that doesn’t make things pointless. Whether it’s a snowman or anything else… if someone remembers it, maybe that’s its own kind of forever."

"In someone’s memory…?"

"Yeah. Like the legacies of artists. Or figures like Eclipse. Even centuries later, people remember. That’s something, right?"

He’d wrapped my scarf a little too tightly, but I didn’t mind. The pressure felt grounding. We stood there, breath hanging in the air, staring up at the giant snowman we’d built.

"To inspire others, to leave a mark—that’s how people become eternal. Forever does exist. We could reach it, too."

"Us? Eternal? …That’s a stretch."

"Maybe. But ‘the strongest stayer’—that’s not just a title. It’s a legend. If you make it there, you become part of that."

"…You make it sound so easy."

"I believe it’s possible. Don’t you?"

"…Yeah. With you, I think we could."

Snow drifted down in soft clumps, muffling the world. For a second, everything went still. Just us and the snowman, as if time had slipped sideways.

A flake landed on my cheek. Cold. It melted slowly, tracing a path along my jaw before disappearing. The sharp chill brought me back.

...God. Replay that conversation and I wanted to bury myself. Cringe. What kind of idealistic nonsense had just come out of my mouth? I actually wanted to punch myself. Tomio looked just as embarrassed—his cheeks were bright red, like he couldn’t believe he’d gone along with it.

...Well, might as well commit to the bit. My feelings weren’t going away. But trainer and student—that line wouldn’t be crossed, not until graduation. Even if he felt the same, he’d make us wait. A maybe. Or a no. Either way, silence felt safer.

But bottling it up was its own kind of hell. Just thinking about confessing made my heart pound. A true, infinite loop of suffering.

To shake it off, I grabbed a bucket nearby and slammed it onto the snowman’s head like a crown. Classic move. After snapping a photo, we started heading home, skipping the igloo. Between the snowman and the conversation, we were both spent.

The walk back was quiet—still awkward, still teen-level emotionally fried—but we held hands anyway. Our fingers, numb from the cold, found each other again. And slowly, the warmth crept back. Still chilled on the surface, but the heat at the center was steady.

I looked up and caught his eyes. Let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

"…………"

"…………"

I averted my eyes, thinking, What the hell is this? It happened almost simultaneously—like we both knew how the other felt but couldn’t say it. Two people tangled in mutual, unspoken longing.

Who even brought up “eternity” and killed the mood?

…Oh right. That was me.

“...The snow’s getting heavier.”

“...Yeah.”

“Let’s head back. Your parents are probably waiting. No need to make them worry.”

“Right…”

Exchanging stiff, awkward lines, we somehow made it home. My mom had sent a message saying she’d made lunch and osechi for Tomio. I passed it on plainly, then reached for the doorknob.

But my hand froze.

A wave hit me—sharp, overwhelming. All the feelings I’d been storing since my junior and classic-level days were rushing up my throat, triggered by that one word.

Eternity.

Sweet. Addictive. If I could become everyone’s eternity—and his too—how happy would that be? I couldn’t even imagine.

But I wanted it. I wanted both. I’m a greedy Umamusume. I don’t want to give up on either dream—being the strongest stayer or finding the perfect partner.

My parents’ voices echoed in my head. “A good man like that’ll get snatched up if you wait around.” Annoying advice. But the more we grew close, the harder it was to ignore.

That’s why—now. If I wanted both dreams, I had to act here. Our hands still rested on the doorknob, unmoving, as that storm of emotion surged through me.

“…Apollo? Did you forget your key?”

…No. This was it. “I” and “me” were finally in sync. I turned to face him head-on, steadying myself against the pounding in my chest.

“U-um, so—”

“Yeah?”

“I-I wanna be… Tomio’s—”

My mouth was dry. Too dry. I forced myself to swallow, ran my tongue across my lips. One deep breath. I locked in on the words. My heart thundered in my ears, loud and raw.

He looked at me with that usual clueless face. Annoyance flared. Whose fault do you think this is? I shoved the thought aside and made my voice clear.

“…I want to be your eternity.”

“———”

“After I become the strongest stayer—after I’m everyone’s eternity… I want to be yours too.”

—I said it.

I really said it.

But… did it land? Those words weren’t like me at all. If I were the kind of Umamusume who could just say “I love you” straight out, this would’ve been so much easier.

And hadn’t we already crashed the mood earlier? Dragging it back up—did it even reach him? I clenched my fists, bracing for the worst.

Then he chuckled, soft and low.

“W-what’s so funny?!” My face went hot as I puffed my cheeks.

He just smiled, like it was obvious.

—You already are.

Just like that.

And then—blank. The next thing I knew, twelve hours had vanished, and I was soaking in the bathtub.

That night, I didn’t sleep a wink.