Hachiman's POV
"The Prix Royal-Oak?" Rice repeated the name slowly, letting the foreign syllables roll off her tongue.
"Yeah. It's a long-distance race held three weeks from now. Same venue—Longchamp. It's 3,100 meters, so just a 300-meter extension of the course you just ran. The layout is basically identical." I paused, watching her closely. I wanted her honest opinion before I even thought about calling the higher-ups back home. "Rice… do you want to run this race?"
"..."
She went quiet, her gaze dropping to her lap.
I couldn't blame her for hesitating. Saying yes meant extending our stay in a foreign land. I knew she missed home; I knew there were people she wanted to see. Pushing this on her felt like a weight on my conscience.
"Um… Big Brother?" Rice looked up, her voice small. "You weren't planning on having me race again for the rest of the year, right?"
"That was the plan. I wanted to stick to the same rhythm as this year—starting with the Nikkei Sho and then aiming for the Tenno Sho Spring."
Rice took a deep breath, her small hands clenching into fists. "Then… I want to do it. I want to run in the Royal-Oak!"
I blinked, surprised by her sudden resolve. "You seemed conflicted a second ago. Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. It's not that I didn't want to run."
"Look, if you're just doing this because you feel pressured, you can say no. I can turn them down. These are recommendations from the top trainers in Europe, sure, but they aren't commands. If you want to go home, we go home."
"It's true that I want to go back to Japan," Rice admitted softly. "But… I also want to show them."
"Show them?"
"The people who called me a 'Heel' at the Kikuka-sho and the Tenno Sho. I want to tell them: 'Rice is this strong!' I don't want anyone to think yesterday was just a fluke or a stroke of luck."
"..."
I see. She wasn't just running for a title anymore. She was running for her dignity. She wanted to prove that her victory was earned through blood, sweat, and talent, not just the whims of the French weather. If she had that kind of fire in her, the least I could do was fan the flames.
"Alright. Then it's settled. We're entering the Prix Royal-Oak in three weeks. We'll fly back three days after the race. Sound good?"
"Yes! Thank you, Big Brother!"
"Don't thank me yet," I muttered, pulling out my phone. "Now that we've decided, I need your help with something much harder."
"Eh? What is it?"
"Convincing the unruly thoroughbreds back home."
— Video Call —
"Hachiman," Taliat's voice crackled through the speaker. "Everyone is here. What is this urgent news?"
"First, let me thank you, Sensei—and you, Professor—for looking after C.B. and Rudolf's training while I've been away. I'm calling to discuss a change in the schedule."
"A change?" Rudolf's face appeared on screen, her brow furrowed with concern. "Has something happened?"
"Well, you see—"
"I knew it! You're going to say you're coming home late, aren't you?!" C.B. shoved her way into the frame, her face inches from the camera.
"C.B., if you'd just let me—"
"Hachiman! I trusted you!" the Professor's voice boomed from the background.
"Quiet, both of you!" Taliat snapped. "Let him speak. Hachiman, continue."
"Right. Originally, the plan was to return two weeks after the race so I could take over the training duties for C.B. and Rudolf again. We're all clear on that, right?"
"Yes," Rudolf nodded. "That was the agreement."
"It's what was in the documents you prepared," Man o' War added gruffly.
"...Yeah, unfortunately," C.B. pouted.
I took a breath. This was the hurdle. I knew two of them were going to hate this, but there was no turning back.
"To give you the context: after the Arc today, I was approached by three master trainers. They had a proposal…"
I laid out the entire situation—the invitation, the prestige of the race, and the trainers' belief in Rice's potential as a world-class stayer. Taliat and Rudolf listened with analytical nods, while C.B. and the Professor looked like their world was ending.
"So, after discussing it with Rice, we've decided to enter the Prix Royal-Oak in three weeks. I'm calling to ask—and consult with you—about extending your supervision of the girls for a bit longer."
"Hachiman…" C.B.'s voice was dangerously low. "I'm at my limit, you know? I'm about five seconds away from flying to France just to tackle-hug you."
"I know I'm asking a lot," I said, my voice firm. "But this isn't just about the schedule. This is Rice's wish."
"And what exactly is this wish?" Taliat asked.
Rice stepped into the frame, standing tall beside me. "I want to show the people who called me a villain. I want to prove that Rice didn't win by accident—that I grabbed this victory with my own hands. I don't want anyone to call it a fluke."
The silence on the other end of the line was heavy. In the world of international racing, there is no such thing as a "lucky" win at Longchamp, but the perception of the public is a different beast entirely.
"'Eclipse first, the rest nowhere,'" Rudolf quoted softly, her eyes shining with respect. "To be so far ahead that no one else is even in sight… Rice Shower, you have already achieved a run worthy of that proverb in Japan. And you did it again overseas. Do people truly still doubt you?"
"I don't want to believe they do," Rice replied, her voice unwavering. "But I want to prove my strength is real."
I looked at her. Gone was the timid girl who hid behind my back. When she was serious, her eyes were piercing, locking onto her goal like a predator. This was the Rice Shower the world feared.
"...Hachiman," Man o' War spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically solemn. "Ensure she wins. No matter what."
"!"
"If your student is willing to go this far, I will accept nothing less than total victory. If you lose this after staying behind, I will personally drag you back to America for a training camp that will make your current life feel like a vacation. Am I clear?"
Taliat sighed, but there was a smirk on her face. "Well, Hachiman, if the Master has given her word, I can hardly object. Go and win."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"There you have it, C.B.," Man o' War laughed, clapping a hand on the pouting girl's shoulder. "Let's look forward to Rice's next race! And don't worry—when Hachiman finally does get back, you can cling to him all you want. He's got enough backbone to handle it!"
"Fine, fine… I guess I'll wait," C.B. groaned.
"Brother, Rice Shower—good luck at the Royal-Oak," Rudolf added.
"We'll be cheering for you from Japan," Taliat finished.
"Thank you. We won't let you down."
"We'll do our best!" Rice chirped.
I closed the laptop and leaned back. I knew that when I finally returned to Japan, a special kind of hell was waiting for me in the form of C.B.'s "affection." But looking at the fire in Rice's eyes, it was a price I was more than willing to pay.
Watch us, world. We aren't finished yet.
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