Hachiman's Perspective
"Haaah... I've yearned to see you, Rice-san. To be reunited with you like this... I am truly, deeply happy."
Krone didn't just say the words; she punctuated them by pulling Rice into a crushing embrace.
"U-um... Krone-san? The race is about to—"
"Ten more minutes," Krone interrupted, her face buried against Rice's shoulder. "Please. Just like this."
"Ten minutes is too long!" Rice squeaked, flailing slightly. "I have to talk to my Trainer! We have to go over our strategy!"
Trainer Apple sighed, looking at me with a weary, apologetic expression. "My deepest apologies, Hikigaya. Our Krone is... persistent."
"It's fine," I replied, watching the struggle. "Compared to how sour she was the last time we met, this is actually an improvement."
"To be honest, I only planned on bringing the girls who were actually running today," Apple admitted. "But Krone wouldn't take no for an answer. The moment we arrived, she was exactly as you see her now."
"I didn't realize she was the type to become... like that," I mused.
It was the day of the Prix Royal-Oak. Rice and I had arrived early at Longchamp to watch the preceding races, only to run into the British contingent: Mr. Apple, Krone, and their entrant for the day. Currently, we were in the spectator's area. Rice was essentially being used as a life-sized teddy bear by Krone, Apple and I were playing the part of the exhausted parents, and their third member was sitting nearby, elegantly sipping tea as if the chaos didn't exist.
"Mr. Fabre kept me updated on your progress," Apple said. "I'm glad to see you're both doing well."
"If I had to complain about one thing, it's the food," I admitted. "I didn't bring enough ingredients from home to cook properly, so I've been craving Japanese cuisine. You start to miss the taste of home after a while."
"I know the feeling well. Whenever I'm on a long tour, my stomach starts pining for my own country's cooking before my heart does. Well then," Apple checked his watch, "it's nearly time."
"Right. But first," I glanced at the pair, "I believe I need my trainee back."
Now, let's see if she plays nice.
"Rice, we should head out. And Krone? It's about that time. Be a good girl and give Rice back, would you?"
Krone went absolutely still. A silence stretched between us—long, heavy, and incredibly reluctant.
"…Very well," she finally whispered, releasing her grip.
(Good god, that was a massive pause.) "Alright. Let's go, Rice. Head to the waiting room, get changed, and we'll do our final briefing."
"Y-yes!" Rice breathed, looking both relieved and slightly dazed.
"Krone, stay here and be a good spectator," Apple commanded. "Let's go, Lepreux."
Lepreux, their runner, stood up with a sharp, robotic precision, her eyes focused. "..."
— The Waiting Room —
"Big Brother! I'm all changed!" Rice called from behind the partition.
"Right, I'm coming in."
I stepped inside and gave her a once-over. The silks were straight, her gear was checked. "You look ready. How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay! Actually, I'm more excited than I was for the Royallieu! Are we sticking to the same plan as last time? Or are we trying something new?"
"The core strategy remains the same," I said, leaning against the wall. "But remember: this is three hundred meters longer. Keep a close eye on your stamina. We're on 'away' turf here, and while the French soil has been kind to us so far, don't underestimate it. The only upside is that the local field isn't huge, and very few of these girls have experience in races over three thousand meters."
"It's just me and three others who've done the distance, right?" Rice nodded, her expression hardening into a racer's mask. "I'll run with the same heart I had at the Royallieu."
"Good. Don't lose that feeling. I was going to warn you about overconfidence, but it looks like I was worried for nothing. Now, go show them what you can do."
"I will!"
— The Spectator Stands —
"That was a quick return," Krone noted as I sat back down.
"I didn't have much to tell her," I replied.
"I see."
"..."
"..."
She was back to her usual, frigid self. It was a stark contrast to how she'd been clinging to Rice minutes ago. It was clear she didn't consider me worth her breath. Fine. Let's poke the bear a little.
"You know," I began, sounding conversational, "back at Epsom Downs in London, there's a statue commemorating the Diamond Jubilee, isn't there? I heard it's surrounded by a beautiful flower garden."
Krone glanced at me, her gaze icy. "There is. What of it?"
"Nothing, really. It just reminded me of a photo I took when I visited a garden with Rice recently. Since Tokyo and Epsom are sister tracks, I thought about the commonalities. Want to see the picture?"
"I do."
"Here. This is the one."
I pulled up the photo. It was the one I'd taken when Rice was standing in a field of blue nemophila flowers, looking back at the camera with a shy, radiant smile that made her look like a genuine forest spirit.
Krone went dead silent.
"We decided to enter the garden from different sides and meet in the middle," I explained, playing it up. "We kept missing each other, and this was the exact moment I finally found her. The scenery was great, but her expression just... happened to catch the light perfectly, so I saved it."
"..." Krone's eyes were fixed on the screen. "It is... sublime."
"Right? I think it's a pretty good shot."
"I could look at this for hours," she whispered.
"I'd rather you didn't. I need my phone back."
"..."
"Hey. You're not listening. Look, if you promise to keep our 'negotiations' a secret, I'll send the image to you."
Krone's head snapped toward me, her eyes burning with an intensity that would have made a lesser man flee. "It is a promise. Send it immediately."
"Wow, zero hesitation," I muttered. "You're something else."
In exchange for getting my phone back, we swapped contact info on LANE, and I sent her the "Blue Rose" photo.
"It is now my wallpaper," Krone announced.
"Is it really that serious?"
"Do you have others? Other high-quality captures?"
"I don't go around taking photos of her every five minutes, so no. That's all you get for now."
Krone let out a small, satisfied breath. "Very well. With this, I shall consider our recent... disagreements... to be water under the bridge."
"Wait, did I even do anything wrong?"
I just didn't bring Rice with me once, and she's treating me like a war criminal who just bought a pardon. Unbelievable.
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