...
The next afternoon, Lucian arrived at the lounge as usual, only to find that all the horse girls had already arrived long before him.
Lucian, who had just opened the door, was stunned. "Everyone came so early today?"
There was no response. Lucian's voice rang out especially clearly in the suddenly quiet room.
Only the horse girls' concerned gazes lingered on him.
"I'm fine. The Horse Girl Association has already issued an announcement, and that Trainer also explained the misunderstanding on social media." Lucian spoke in a relaxed tone.
Haru Urara rushed over and gave Lucian a big hug. "Trainer, Urara was really worried about you."
Rice Shower clutched the hem of her skirt. "Rice... Rice was very worried too, Onii-sama."
Tokai Teio folded her arms, harshly condemning those unscrupulous media outlets. "Trainer, don't listen to those bad comments online. They're clearly a bunch of people who don't understand anything!"
...
Lucian's gaze swept across every face filled with worry. His chest felt as though it had been gently soothed by a warm, large hand.
He softened his voice even further. "Don't worry, everyone. I'm not that fragile. All those annoying messages—I've already blocked them directly."
"And we've already started pursuing legal responsibility against those rumor-spreading media outlets."
The tense, heavy atmosphere in the lounge finally eased a little.
"Alright, alright, the matter is over. Everyone, let's start today's training." Lucian ruffled Haru Urara's fluffy pink long hair. "How long are you going to hug me? You're heading to Kochi for a race soon—don't think about slacking off."
"I know! Mean Trainer..." Haru Urara let go, pouting with her soft pink lips. "Urara was just concerned about you."
"Okay, okay, Trainer feels it."
Next, Lucian took out the training schedule from the folder and began assigning the afternoon's training tasks. He handed the data-recording form to Ines Fujin for the upcoming tests.
After listening, the horse girls left the lounge in small groups of two or three. Only Mejiro McQueen remained standing in place, unmoving.
"McQueen, do you still have any questions?" Lucian asked.
Because of the veering incident, Mejiro McQueen's races for this year had come to an end. But Lucian had already said—no accident occurring was the best possible outcome.
"Torena-san... this morning, I already went to apologize to that horse girl." Mejiro McQueen lifted her gaze. Her long lashes cast faint shadows across her cheeks, like unresolved melancholy that refused to dissipate.
"That's good. I was actually planning to take you there later."
"So... this was clearly my mistake alone." Mejiro McQueen lowered her head. Her voice was almost inaudible.
"Hm? What did you say?"
"Nothing." Mejiro McQueen shook her head. Her violet long hair swayed gently with the motion.
"McQueen, do you want to take some time off to rest recently?"
Mejiro McQueen shook her head again. "No need desu."
Looking at her hesitant, wanting-to-speak-but-stopping expression, Lucian could not help but chuckle. "You won't take leave, and you're not going to train either. Is there something you still haven't said?"
"Torena-san... Grandmother wants to express her gratitude to you and invite you..." Mejiro McQueen lowered her eyes again, but could not resist secretly lifting them to observe Lucian's reaction.
She looked slightly uneasy.
Lucian waved his hand. "No need. As your Trainer, I'm somewhat like a guardian. It's only natural that I take responsibility for you."
Mejiro McQueen pressed her lips together, as though hesitating, or perhaps mustering courage. "Then... what if it's me personally inviting Torena-san?"
Lucian thought for a moment. "Time and place."
"Tonight... at that small izakaya from before."
"Alright."
...
At the agreed time that evening, Lucian drove to the entrance of the Mejiro family estate and waited for Mejiro McQueen.
Not long after, Mejiro McQueen appeared beside the car window.
She was wearing a pure white kimono. The fabric gave off a soft matte sheen under the moonlight.
The standing collar outlined the slender line of her neck, while the wide, flowing sleeves and hem fluttered lightly in the night breeze, like delicate feathers.
The pattern around her obi—something that resembled both flowers and wheat ears—was half-hidden in the darkness, just like the hidden thoughts of Mejiro McQueen herself.
Lucian rolled down the window. For a brief moment he was stunned by how breathtaking she looked tonight, before quickly averting his gaze. "Get in."
"Mhm..."
As Mejiro McQueen walked around the front of the car, Lucian noticed her long hair had been loosely gathered to one side with a silver hairpin, resembling fresh-blooming violets bathed in moonlight.
"Should we go to the park or the boardwalk or something for a walk?" Lucian asked.
Perhaps a suitable environment would help Mejiro McQueen say what was on her mind—that was what Lucian thought.
But what he did not know was that Mejiro McQueen had been thinking exactly the same thing.
Still, Lucian could not quite figure out what was weighing on Mejiro McQueen's heart.
Was the gap too wide to accept—that she had clearly won, yet because of the foul ended up last place?
Or was it regret and sorrow over missing victory and having her season end prematurely?
Or had this incident tarnished the pride in her heart?
"Let's just go to that small izakaya. It's closer." Mejiro McQueen set her bag down and answered.
Her gaze first landed on the seatbelt buckle, then drifted to the delicate ornaments inside the car, and finally fixed on the flowing street scenes outside the window... anywhere but Lucian's sharply defined side profile.
Lucian's fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel. "You can't drink anyway. Last time, after just two glasses of milk you were completely drunk."
"Torena-san, please drive seriously... that was an accident desuwa last time." Mejiro McQueen said, both embarrassed and indignant.
"Fine, fine. Since you insist, we'll go there. But we're only chatting—you better not get drunk again."
"Does Torena-san think I'm troublesome when I'm drunk?"
"No."
"Then why do you keep emphasizing it? Those drinks don't affect my body anyway. Besides... I don't have any more races after this." Mejiro McQueen's voice gradually grew softer, as though suppressing some emotion.
Lucian's ears twitched sensitively—he seemed to catch the key word. So it really was resentment over being disqualified?
"Emmmm, then go ahead and drink."
He remembered how adorably dazed and misty-eyed she had looked that day when drunk.
But Lucian did not dare say any of that out loud. He was unsure whether this proud young lady even remembered, and he did not want to pierce through her paper-thin pride.
"Torena-san, how can you be so casual..."
"I can't not let you drink, but I also can't let you drink?"
"I didn't say I couldn't desuwa..."
...