(No, calling it a 'twist of fate' is an insult to Rice… Bourbon was desperate, but Rice was even more so. That's all it was.)
Thinking back to that Winning Live after the Kikkasho, my blood began to boil again. The anger I'd been carrying flared up anew as I listened to them. But I kept it inside. I wasn't the one who was hurt, or sad, or angry. Only Rice—who had cried and claimed she was a curse to those around her—had the right to be angry.
(But she's the kind of girl who won't get angry… she just takes it all on herself… dammit…)
It was because she carried that burden alone that I wanted to support her. If she had the mental fortitude to just say "You lost, get over it" when the crowd booed her, she wouldn't have needed a rookie like me to train her. In fact, she probably wouldn't have asked me in the first place; she'd be off training by herself.
As I wrestled with my own unvented frustrations, Bourbon continued, her eyes locked on Rice.
"After that, I wanted to speak to you many times. But I could not… I was the one who tarnished the glory of the victory you earned. I felt I had no right to… approach you."
Bourbon bowed her head again. It wasn't just a formal apology; it looked as though the weight of her own guilt was physically pulling her down.
Rice looked distressed, but she bit her lip and asked in a trembling voice, "Then… why? Why did you call out to Rice today?"
It was a question from the heart. From Rice's perspective, if Bourbon felt she had no right to speak to her, why go through the effort of setting up this meeting now?
Bourbon's eyes wandered for a moment before landing on me.
"I had determined that it was, in truth, unnecessary. However… today, I caused you trouble yet again…"
I narrowed my eyes. For a second, it sounded like she was only talking to Rice to ease her own conscience. But I was wrong. Rice didn't move; she simply waited in silence for Bourbon to finish.
Bourbon's frame trembled. Finally, she whispered the words as if squeezing them out of her soul.
"You are a magnificent Umamusume, Rice Shower-san."
"...Eh?"
The words clearly caught Rice off guard. Her eyes widened, unable to process what she'd just heard.
"The final stretch of the Kikkasho… the moment you passed me. I felt despair at the distance between us that wouldn't close, no matter how I tried to fight back. But at the same time, I thought… The Umamusume running before me is incredible."
Bourbon pressed her hands to her face, her words pouring out like a confession.
"I wanted to reach that back… I wanted to catch you. But instead of being praised for the feat that made me feel that way, you were condemned… The errors multiplied. I became lost. I wanted to beat you so badly that it surpassed the dream of the Triple Crown I'd held since childhood… and yet… I…"
Bourbon likely didn't fully understand the storm of emotions inside her. Her words were fragmented and disjointed—and that was exactly why they felt so honest.
"Even so, you stood up again. When I saw the mock race you ran two weeks ago, I was certain. Rice Shower-san… you will become even stronger and faster with that Trainer. But I… I can no longer… reach you!"
Her voice cracked, tears shimmering in her eyes. Despite my resolve to stay out of it, I couldn't stay silent.
"Wait—your right leg… is it that bad?"
"...It has been two months since the Kikkasho," Bourbon said with a self-deprecating shadow of a smile. "I have focused on recovery, but there is no sign of improvement. I suppose this is the price for challenging a distance for which I had no aptitude."
I grit my teeth so hard they ached. "What does your trainer say?"
"Master said… he pushed me too hard. He apologized… even though he was only supporting my dream…"
There wasn't a trace of resentment in her voice toward her trainer. There was only deep, mutual trust.
"Of course, I have not given up on running again. However, it is predicted that recovery will take a very long time."
Bourbon shook her head, as if snapping herself back to the present.
"No, I did not come here to talk about myself. Rice Shower-san, I came here because I have a request."
"A… a request for Rice?"
"Yes. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me… I would like to cheer for you in the Arima Kinen. That is all I ask."
Rice looked stunned. Bourbon nodded, her expression dead serious.
"I simply wish to cheer for my… Hero."
"————"
Rice went completely still. But it wasn't the silence of rejection.
(...Rice?)
There was an invisible heat radiating from her—a quiet intensity so fierce it was almost intimidating. I didn't know which part of Bourbon's words had struck the spark, but a powerful passion was swirling inside her.
"Rice," I said softly. "It would be a huge boost to have Bourbon-san's support."
"...Is it okay?" Bourbon asked tentatively.
"Yes…" Rice finally replied. "If that's what you want, Bourbon-san… please. Cheer for Rice."
A look of pure, unadulterated joy broke across Bourbon's face. It was such a genuine expression that I found myself unable to say anything at all.
After Bourbon left the infirmary, I stood there with Urara, both of us watching Rice intently.
"Trainer-san… Rice really is… a bad girl, isn't she?" Rice murmured.
Usually, Urara would jump in to disagree immediately, but even she stayed silent, sensing the weight of Rice's words.
"I know you're working so hard for Rice's sake, Trainer-san. But… Rice…"
The air in the room seemed to vibrate with the sheer pressure of her resolve.
"—I want to win the Arima Kinen."