The next day at training, Fujiwara Chiya walked up to Orfevre.
She immediately snapped her gaze away.
Recalling what had happened last night, Fujiwara Chiya coughed awkwardly.
He had not expected that simply kneading her tail a few times would leave Orfevre in that state.
Judging from what he had seen, she had probably endured it for quite a while.
It seemed Orfevre's tail sensitivity was about the same as Shirayuki's before desensitization. The kind where even a little touch was enough to send her over the edge.
On top of that, no one had ever pampered Orfevre's tail before. The stimulation from a first experience was naturally stronger.
And Fujiwara Chiya had even used advanced techniques.
So, yes.
This was his fault.
Who had Fujiwara Chiya usually done this with?
Rice Shower, Grass Wonder, Mejiro Dober, Hayakawa Tazuna.
All of them were experienced veterans in their own way, able to stay composed.
But when it came to Orfevre, she had instantly turned into a small fry.
Fujiwara Chiya wanted to apologize, but apologizing would only make things even more awkward.
Better to pretend nothing had happened.
They would both understand, but neither would say it out loud.
"Your race has been arranged, Orfevre."
Orfevre kept her head turned and did not answer him.
"It'll be the Prix Foy in September. Just like the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, it's a two-thousand-four-hundred-metre race. It's basically a warm-up before the Arc. I want you to familiarize yourself with the course in advance. With your strength, the Prix Foy will be nothing more than an appetizer."
Orfevre folded her arms and closed her eyes, acting as if she had not heard a single word.
"I'll guide you seriously during this period. We'll win that race perfectly and shock all of France."
Orfevre lifted her eyes slightly. Her beautiful blue-violet gaze flicked over Chiya.
Then—
"Hmph."
She snorted in displeasure.
Difficult.
Fujiwara Chiya did not fail to understand Orfevre's feelings.
Leaving a damp patch on a man's sofa was social death no matter how you looked at it.
But for Fujiwara Chiya, who had weathered plenty of storms by now, this was a small scene. He did not particularly mind.
He had already washed the cushion. He had also sprayed air freshener over the area, cleaning the entire scene perfectly. There was no trace left whatsoever.
Fujiwara Chiya wanted to tell her to relax and not worry about it.
But judging by Orfevre's current expression, saying anything more would probably make her explode from embarrassment.
"Hoh? What's this, Trainer? Did you and Orfevre have a fight?"
At that moment, a certain uma musume wearing a ship-shaped hat approached, radiating the energy of someone who adored watching chaos unfold.
Gold Ship grinned from ear to ear.
"Even after all this time, Trainer still doesn't understand a girl's heart, huh? In my opinion, this is exactly when you charge straight ahead! The more stubborn a girl is, the more she likes it when you get forceful!"
"Gold Ship, go train." Shirayuki pushed her away from behind.
"Hey, Shirayuki, I'm teaching Trainer the way to victory here!"
"What way to victory? Stop making things worse."
"Trainer, trust me and you can't go wrong! Be forceful! Just be forceful and everything works out!"
After pushing Gold Ship away, Fujiwara Chiya scratched his head.
"We can discuss the detailed race schedule later. For now, let's start training, all right?"
Orfevre kept her head turned and did not answer.
Even so, she obediently lowered her arms and stepped onto the track.
Seeing that, Fujiwara Chiya let out a long breath.
Good.
Orfevre was only being difficult.
She was not truly angry.
Most likely, she was using coldness to hide her embarrassment. Once the shame passed, she would be fine.
Taking out his notebook, Fujiwara Chiya began recording the uma musume's condition.
On the other side, Orfevre, who had just run off, tilted her head and glanced at Fujiwara Chiya. Once she saw his attention shift toward Gold Ship, she pressed a hand to her chest, where her heart was pounding like mad.
I truly… disgraced myself!
Orfevre wished she could dig a hole in the ground and crawl inside.
Last night, after Trainer had touched her tail and stirred up something strange in her body, she had covered her mouth, clenched her teeth, and forced herself to endure until he finished.
Then Orfevre ran out of the room.
Only then did she realize her body had become strangely warm and unsteady.
It was the first time in Orfevre's life she had ever felt something like that.
Newness. Nervousness. Embarrassment.
All kinds of emotions surged up inside her at once.
She crouched on the ground for a full ten minutes. Only after the night wind chilled her skin did she finally rush back to the dormitory with her face burning red.
That night, Orfevre tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
That strange sensation kept echoing through her body. She hugged her tail in front of her, bit the spot near the tip that Trainer had touched, and squirmed in bed for more than half an hour before finally drifting off in a daze.
It was not until the next morning, when Orfevre woke up, that the restless itch finally faded.
But what followed was an enormous wave of shame.
Trainer definitely noticed what she had left behind.
The moment she thought of that, Orfevre's hands and feet went cold.
She hid under her blanket for ages, unable to move.
It was over.
Her image in Trainer's eyes had completely collapsed!
Orfevre wanted to travel back in time and slap herself twice.
What in the world had she done in that moment of impulse?!
Unfortunately, the world would not give her a chance to take it back.
But running away forever was not an option either.
Enduring that crushing humiliation, Orfevre resolutely came to the training grounds.
She had to overcome this trial!
This was a test sent by the heavens!
Orfevre repeated that to herself.
Speaking of which, why had she gone to Trainer's room in the middle of the night in the first place?
Orfevre secretly observed Fujiwara Chiya's face, watching his clean, handsome profile.
Ah. Right.
Because she had wanted to turn Trainer into something that belonged to her.
But once she started talking with Fujiwara Chiya, she had forgotten all about it.
In all of Tracen, the only people she could truly talk to were her older sister and Trainer.
When she spoke with him, Orfevre felt genuinely happy.
It should have been happiness for the two of them.
Yet by the end, only she had humiliated herself.
What a disgrace!
Orfevre abruptly bent forward and charged ahead with all her might.
The wild aura bursting from her scared the uma musume ahead into hurriedly making way.
Yesterday's humiliation.
She would reclaim it with everything she had!
After shaking off the group of little foreign fillies behind her, Orfevre returned to Fujiwara Chiya.
"Trainer. What is the next training item?" Orfevre asked, clenching her fists and using every last bit of strength she had to keep her voice steady.
"Let me see… high-speed cornering practice."
"Take me to the field. Also—"
Orfevre stepped closer and grabbed Fujiwara Chiya by the tie.
"If Trainer dares tell anyone about what happened last night, you are dead. I will absolutely never forgive you. Do you hear me?!"
Fujiwara Chiya nodded rapidly.
"I've already forgotten. I've completely forgotten."
"Do not forget!" Orfevre snapped. "Remember my shameful state. One day, I will repay that humiliation on your body. Prepare yourself, Trainer."
Looking at Orfevre's face, flushed so red it looked like it might drip, Fujiwara Chiya swallowed.
Repay it on my body?
Does that mean… you're going to stroke me too?