All in all, Gotham Song spent a few pretty decent days in the hospital.
Well, "decent" included—but wasn't limited to—thinking about how to deal with her sisters every day, and figuring out how to keep the people around her from fighting.
To be honest, Gotham Song's condition wasn't all that serious. Given an Uma Musume's physical resilience, it was something she could recover from pretty quickly.
Still, she ended up lying in bed for another four or five days.
Even though she had regained full mobility by then, she was still confined to bed under strict orders—and subject to frequent feeding… and massages from her dedicated support Uma Musume, Gentildonna.
Let's just say—Gentildonna's technique had improved fast. The first day, she'd been a little stiff, but by the second and third days, her hands were no joke. Powerful and precise, they left Gotham Song in equal parts pain and bliss.
It hurt—but it was so good.
But Gotham Song was no stranger to pushing past her limits—this was the girl who had crawled back from the brink of death. So she endured it all, gritting her teeth until she could finally get out of bed and prepare for discharge a day early.
And the person she chose to spend that free day with?
The one and only Tokai Teio, still lying in bed with her leg in a cast.
Gotham Song had already decided to devote her one day of freedom entirely to Teio.
"I came to visit, Teio. Feeling any better?"
"Hehe, Teio-sama feels way better already! Just a shame I can't run in the Japan Cup."
Teio was lying in bed, her fractured leg suspended in a cast. When Gotham Song entered, she'd been gazing quietly out the window. But the moment she saw who it was, she broke into a brilliant smile and proudly declared her condition.
Was Teio forcing herself to act strong?
Maybe a little. After all, a broken leg was no small thing for any Uma Musume.
But she was Tokai Teio, after all. This wasn't her first time facing something like this.
And Gotham Song could see it—the strength slowly building behind that face that should've looked so fragile.
Tokai Teio was growing stronger through pain and loss. It made sense—when someone stands at the edge of life and death, that's often when their will becomes unshakable. And for an Uma Musume, crashing on the track with a fractured leg… that is death.
By that measure, this was Teio's second death on the track.
"If you still want to run together, we can race as many times as you want—once you're healed."
Gotham Song sat at Teio's bedside, gently pulling her old rival's hand to her cheek.
"So get better soon, and fully—okay? We've still got a lot of time ahead of us."
"Yeah… we've got so much ahead of us, Song… hehe. But still, not being able to race in the Japan Cup makes me a little sad…"
But quickly, Teio shifted gears. She took a deep breath, raised her hand, and reached out toward Gotham Song—like she was making a vow.
"So, Song—you've gotta go all out and win the Japan Cup. I mean everything you've got! Take it—completely. Win the whole thing!"
"Show me, okay? Show me a Gotham Song who's stronger, more unbeatable, who'll conquer this entire era!"
And then, once I'm healed… I'll chase you down. Again and again.
The words weren't spoken, but they didn't need to be. Both of them knew.
Gotham Song was honestly relieved. She'd feared Teio might be more devastated, but now she saw it—this girl was determined. Resilient. Still so confident.
Still that undefeated genius, already growing into the crowned Emperor she was meant to be.
You'll rise again, Tokai Teio—reborn not once but twice. And when you do, we'll race together, chasing the wind side by side.
"Alright. I promise. In this Japan Cup, you'll see the purest Gotham Song—burning with everything I've got."
From the very first stride to the finish line—maximum effort, no holding back.
"That's what I wanted to hear! Teio-sama will be watching—watching you win!"
"Well then, I'll be counting on you to keep your eyes on me the whole time, Teio-sama."
With a smile, Gotham Song linked pinkies with Tokai Teio—and only then did they part ways.
Discharged from the hospital at last, Gotham Song had no reason to stay any longer. She headed down with her entourage and boarded a car bound for Mejiro Manor.
And, as it turned out, they had one more passenger than originally planned—Gentildonna.
She wasn't around when the decision was made, but the moment she heard what was happening, she didn't hesitate in the slightest—she insisted on coming along.
Naturally, Mejiro Ardan didn't object. Gentildonna was practically a familiar face at Mejiro Manor anyway—she'd visited plenty of times before.
So off they went—driving, arriving, and finally stepping into her room.
The moment Gotham Song entered, she saw the figure she'd been dreaming of for days.
Phantom Ruka hovered in midair, waiting silently. And the instant Gotham Song stepped through the door, she was met with a twisted grin.
That contorted expression said one thing:
Found you.
So it's just the little phantom today? Gotham Song had half-expected Mejiro McQueen to be here too.
She didn't flinch. Acting like she hadn't noticed the snarl at all, she walked to the table, poured herself a glass of cool water, took a sip, and only then turned her gaze toward the ghost.
And… huh. That same face kept holding that same expression, like a glitch in a video game, just staring at her back.
"So? What is it you wanted to say to me, mysterious young lady?"
"Don't play dumb! You're Twilight Song—I know now, I finally see it!"
Phantom Ruka looked nearly embarrassed in her fury. She remembered this person from the previous Kikuka Sho—the one she'd suspected, the one McQueen had spoken to.
That race had meant something special to them.
And why?
Because Twilight Song had never won the Kikuka Sho.
But now?
Now Gotham Song—no, Twilight Song—was back, right in front of her, having won that very race.
And she'd only just now realized it!
Damn you, Twilight Song! I'm going to get my revenge!
"Ahh, if you say so, then sure. So what now, little phantom? What would you like to do with me?"
Gotham Song was genuinely amused. Phantom Ruka's face was hilariously expressive—so much so that Gotham Song couldn't help but get some mischievous ideas.
What if I teased this silly ghost a little—just to see all the expressions my 'former self' could make?
But no. That idea was way too evil, and Gotham Song quickly tossed it aside.
Instead, she calmly looked at the little phantom and even slid her used teacup toward her as a silent offering.
Not that Phantom Ruka gave it a glance. She was only here to boast that she'd found Twilight Song—and to issue a challenge.
But now…
Why isn't she scared? I'm a ghost, y'know? A ghost!
Phantom Ruka couldn't make sense of it, but she didn't linger.
"Anyway—Twilight Song, you'd better remember this! At the Japan Cup, I'll defeat you! Prepare yourself for your first ever loss!"
And just like that, she began to fade like a tape being rewound, vanishing into thin air.
Gotham Song raised an eyebrow, standing to glance at the space she'd disappeared from.
What, just gonna say your bit and vanish? Is she always this impulsive?
[No, she just hit her time limit, little one.]
So?
[So she got forcefully pulled back—straight into your little sister's body. Pffft.]
Sunday Silence laughed so hard it seemed she might die again—though ghosts couldn't die again, could they? That was reassuring.
Gotham Song paid it no mind and lay down on her bed, surveying the room.
Mejiro Ramonu had assigned her a spacious, comfortable guest room—one that, strangely enough, looked very familiar.
Of course, it wasn't Twilight Song's old room. They wouldn't be so bold. But even so, lying there with time to think, Gotham Song noticed something both familiar and strange.
A particular item on the bookshelf.
Familiar—because she had once brought it here herself.
Strange—because it should have been a relic, buried with Twilight Song's death. It had no business lying out in the open.
It was… the journal she'd once written in, on a whim.
Gotham Song fell silent, slowly sitting up and taking the slightly yellowed notebook in her hands.
Limited edition, signed by Mejiro Ramonu herself…
Well, the cover art had faded a bit, and the binding was creased—but…
The biggest surprise was inside.
First, opposite the original printed signature, there was a real handwritten signature—from Mejiro Ramonu.
And then…
Tucked behind the front cover, a photograph.
One Gotham Song had mailed back before the Arc de Triomphe.
A picture of Twilight Song and Ramonu, taken in Paris. A photo one of them had once declared hideous.
So full of memories…
Gotham Song chuckled, recalling the reason she'd picked up this notebook in the first place.
It had been Ramonu who half-dragged her out shopping. She'd picked it up as a petty little act of defiance—then got distracted when Ardan called her over.
And somehow, she ended up buying it.
Thinking well, I've already got it, she started writing: her thoughts, feelings, random observations. Back then, she'd really needed an outlet to stay sane.
So now, reading it again—wasn't this kind of like a dialogue between Gotham Song and Twilight Song?
She no longer wondered why the journal was here. That was obvious enough.
Ramonu had kept it. And this room? Arranged by Ramonu herself.
So maybe… this was just a way to return something to its rightful owner?
Gotham Song wasn't sure. She couldn't guess what Ramonu wanted her to take away from this.
It's not like I've been avoiding everything, she thought. I just didn't want to admit it outright…
She flipped through page after page of past memories, until she reached what she thought was the final entry—her own words: "I love you all."
And then… more handwriting.
Not hers.
It was Ramonu's.
The ink varied in tone. The entries stretched across months, maybe years. The emotions were raw—grief, regret, guilt—gradually softening into everyday rambling.
Ramonu had kept writing here, pouring out her feelings into the pages.
Hoping, somehow, to talk to someone she'd never get to speak to again.
Gotham Song kept reading, slowly absorbing year after year of Ramonu's quiet confessions.
And finally, on a freshly inked page at the end, she read this:
I had a dream I couldn't wake from. In it, Ruka came back. She held my hand and said, "I'll never leave you again. Nee-san, we'll always be family. We'll never be apart again."
Even though I knew it was a dream, I couldn't help but reach out and touch her hair. Just as soft as always…
And then, I finally said the words I've been holding back for so long:
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stopped you from doing what you wanted."
That apology was long overdue—since the Satsuki Sho, in fact.
But what I really should've said back then?
"If that photo was so ugly…"
"…Then let's take another sometime. This time, it'll be clearer. You'll think it looks good."
"Or better yet, let's take lots. I wouldn't mind. You've got time now. Surely there'll be a moment we both like."
Welcome home, my foolish, stubborn little sister. Our Mejiro Ruka.