Hachiman's POV
"It really was a long journey, wasn't it, Big Brother?"
"Yeah," I replied, looking out at the expanse of white clouds beneath us. "But now that it's over, it feels like it went by in the blink of an eye."
"It was so much fun, though. I'm just… I'm so happy we won the race," Rice said, her voice soft but filled with a quiet pride. "Rob Roy and the others sent me so many messages on LANE, and my parents even called to say congratulations. It makes everything feel real."
"I see..." I muttered, a small sense of relief washing over me.
It had been three days since the Prix Royal-Oak. Currently, Rice and I were no longer on solid ground; we were suspended in the sky, somewhere between France and Japan.
The day immediately following the race had been a whirlwind. We had taken the first day completely off—a rare luxury—spending it wandering the streets of France, hunting for souvenirs and just taking in the sights. It was a peaceful, "perfect" day off.
The two days after that, however, were a bit more chaotic. We held joint training sessions with Mr. Fable's team, including Krone and Lepreux. I couldn't help but notice that Carnegie and Krone seemed to be in a constant tug-of-war over who got to spend time with Rice. They'd clearly taken an immense liking to her—to an almost overwhelming degree. Still, they weren't fighting, so I suppose I could call it "peaceful" in its own way.
Even us trainers found time to circle up after the sessions. Talking with those three—all of them renowned names in the European circuit—was an education in itself. Their insights were sharp, their methods innovative. Of course, they grilled me just as hard about my own techniques, specifically how I designed menus to overcome a runner's weaknesses. Despite the interrogation, it was some of the most meaningful time I'd spent on the trip.
And then, today. The day of our departure.
It was... quite a scene. Krone clung to Rice in a hug so tight she refused to let go. It was like watching Mr. C.B. at the airport all over again. It took her older sister, Lepreux, telling her to stop at least five times before she finally relented.
Rice left with more than just memories; Carnegie and the others gave her a beautiful piece of French pottery and a framed photo they'd taken together at the academy. It'll be a treasure for her, I'm sure. They didn't leave me out, either. I received a vintage pocket watch, a small leather shoulder bag, and a bolo tie made of a horseshoe and natural stone. All of them were high-quality, practical gifts that I'll actually use.
"I wonder what I should do first when we get back to Japan…" Rice mused, her eyes bright with anticipation. "I definitely want to talk to Rob Roy and Urara-chan. Oh, and I have to go see Bourbon-san, too! And I need to tell my mother properly that I'm home… There's just so much I want to do."
"As for me," I said, leaning back into the seat, "I'll probably start by unpacking. Or maybe I'll just collapse and sleep the second I hit my room."
"Hehe, the jet lag is going to be tough, isn't it?"
"Yeah. But I've got to report to the Chairwoman first. Unpacking comes after that. Then there's thanking Speed Symboli again… and then, I suppose, I have to deal with that wild mare of mine. She's the one I'm really dreading…"
"You mean C.B.-san? I'm sure she's been waiting for you."
"I'm betting on a flying headbutt the moment she sees me."
Rice giggled nervously. "U-um… yeah, that sounds like her. Or maybe… she might just refuse to leave your side all day?"
"...Please, spare me that right after a thirteen-hour flight."
The flight from France to Tokyo is a long haul—at least twelve to thirteen hours. We're on a direct flight that left at 11:00 AM. By the time we touch down, it'll be around 8:30 AM Japan time. Most of the students will already be in class. I doubt even Ms. Hayakawa will be at the gate.
Technically, that means there's a low chance of C.B. lying in wait for me, but she's such a free spirit that I can't rule out whatever stunt she might pull.
"Anyway, since we arrive at 8:30 in the morning, you should probably get some sleep now," I advised. "Our first battle back in the country is going to be against the time difference."
"We were in France for a whole month, so my body is totally used to their time," Rice agreed. "I feel like Japan's clock is the one that's going to feel wrong now."
"You picked up enough French to survive there, too. You could probably live there if you wanted to."
"N-no way! I'm not ready for that yet!"
We spent some time chatting like that. In Japan, it was already around 7:00 PM. People back home were probably finishing dinner and settling in. If I wanted to sync up, sleeping around 10:00 or 11:00 PM Japan time would be ideal. Not that it matters much—flights are mostly just a long exercise in killing time, so there's no harm in sleeping early.
Four Hours Later
…Right. It's 11:00 PM in Japan now. Time to get some shut-eye.
I noticed Rice wasn't in her seat. I guessed she had headed to the sleeping berth ahead of me.
"Excuse me," I flagged down a flight attendant. "Is Rice asleep?"
"Yes, sir. She went to rest about two hours ago. She left a message saying, 'Please give the Trainer my best.'"
"Thank you. I think I'll head in as well… Oh, and don't worry about being formal. Please, make yourself comfortable too."
"That's very kind of you, sir. Thank you."
The Sleeping Quarters
Being able to lie flat on a plane… it's a strange kind of luxury. Not something an average guy like me gets to do often. I glanced over at the other berth.
"Zzz… zzz…"
Rice was out cold. She looked peaceful. We still had a long way to go before we reached Tokyo.
I guess I'll just take it easy until then.
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