"Good morning… Onii-chan…"
When Maruzensky greeted him, she kept her head bowed, fingers pinching the hem of her clothes like it was a lifeline. She didn't dare meet his eyes—not even for a second.
Still, compared to yesterday's hermit-crab act—vanishing into a shipping box at every gust of air—she looked a lot brighter today.
She wore Tracen Academy's red-and-white tracksuit, modest enough to cover her limbs completely. A bulging backpack hung off her shoulders, stuffed so full it looked ready to burst—like she was heading off on a journey and had packed for the worst.
Her once-dry, split ends and tail had been properly cared for. Now her hair was soft and fluffy, like a freshly washed teddy bear, carrying a light floral scent of body wash that made you want to ruffle it.
She'd even brought a shipping box again, parked neatly by her feet—ready to dive in at the first sign of danger. And yet Mizuno could tell: she was doing her best to suppress the urge to become a full-time box spirit.
Just one night ago, she'd been too scared to show her face at all. Now she was outside, standing here in the morning sun. The only "big change" in that time was that she'd taken Mizuno as her brother.
It honestly surprised him.
So… was his plan—treat her the way he treated Rice Shower—actually working?
"Morning," Mizuno replied with a nod. Then his attention drifted to the backpack behind her, packed so tight it was practically inflated.
"What's that?" he asked, brows lifting.
They were just going to practice driving. Did she really need to bring a bag that big?
"Ngh…" Catching his confusion, Maruzensky hurriedly slipped the backpack off, set it on the floor, and unzipped it to show him what was inside.
She crouched, reached in with both hands, and produced several plastic bento boxes in different colors.
"These are bento. I got up at five to make them—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. If you get hungry, you can eat…"
She set the bento aside, then dug out marshmallow snacks, chips, milk tablets, and more.
"And these are snacks. They're the kinds I think taste good… I wanted to share them with you…"
Next she put the snacks back and pulled out a pink thermos.
"And this is wake-up tea. It's in the thermos—temperature's just right. You can pour it out and drink it…"
"Oh, right—and this…" Maruzensky wedged the thermos between her thighs, rummaged through the bag, and finally fished out a small medical kit.
"I saw you flip a lot when you were practicing drifting the past couple days. It looked easy to get hurt, so I thought I'd bring some medical supplies, just in case…"
"And also, and also…"
One after another, Maruzensky explained why she'd brought each item—everything prepared for today's outing with Mizuno.
"…Ah." Mizuno stared into the backpack, quietly shaken.
She'd prepared way too thoroughly.
If you knew the plan, you'd think they were just practicing driving and would be back by evening.
If you didn't, you'd assume she was trekking into the deep mountains to cultivate for ten days and wasn't coming back.
But honestly? She'd thought of everything. Food—handled. Injuries from wiping out—accounted for.
Maruzensky really did live up to her former "dependable big-sis" reputation. Taking care of people was second nature to her. Even if she'd grown timid, her manners still carried that Yamato nadeshiko vibe.
There was just one thing Mizuno badly wanted to point out—something she'd said when she pulled out the medical kit.
What did she mean, "I saw you flip a lot the past couple days"?
Getting caught wiping out was embarrassing, sure, but the real issue was that she'd just casually admitted she'd been tailing him.
Thankfully, Maruzensky didn't seem to realize what she'd let slip, and Mizuno had no desire to press it. If he did, their "relationship" was going to crash into a trust wall on day one.
"…Uh." Mizuno snapped out of it just as Maruzensky finished unpacking and looked up at him, blinking obediently—bright-eyed, expectant.
…She was fishing for praise, wasn't she?
Mizuno's mouth twitched. If he gave her nothing, she'd definitely deflate.
She'd done all this for him. If he didn't even acknowledge it, that would be cruel.
So he steadied himself, reached out, and gently patted her head—warm, but restrained.
"Thank you for preparing all this. I'm really happy."
Gratitude stated. Feelings expressed. A perfect all-purpose compliment—neither cold nor overly affectionate. It was the exact tone Mizuno liked to use when praising Umamusume.
"?!" Maruzensky froze, staring in disbelief at the hand resting on her head.
She'd braced herself for verbal praise. The headpat, though—that caught her completely off guard.
Aside from her elders at home, Mizuno was the first person who'd ever dared to touch her head like that.
It was usually her, the "big sister," doing the patting. Who ever had the chance to pat her?
Maruzensky had expected to hate it.
But as it sank in… it wasn't unbearable at all.
If anything…
She felt a little… excited.
So this is what it's like… having a big brother?
She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. The tightness in her body—always braced against the world—slowly eased.
It felt like standing in cold wind and driving rain with a tree beside you.
You knew it couldn't block every storm. But lean against its solid trunk, and your drifting heart steadied.
…This might be nice.
"Hehe~" Maruzensky's lips curled. Her ears flicked with delight. She clearly loved the praise.
But Mizuno's hand only stayed there for less than five seconds before he pulled back.
"…" The warmth drifted away like a dandelion seed, and a sharp little emptiness bloomed in her chest.
She didn't show it. She just blinked quietly, her ponytail drooping almost imperceptibly.
"Haa…" Seeing she didn't react too strongly, Mizuno exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
He hadn't wanted to pat her head in the first place—but if he'd decided to treat her like a real little sister, then even breaking his personal rule of don't initiate headpats on Umamusume was something he had to do.
Thankfully, nothing went wrong.
"Alright. Let's head out," Mizuno suggested.
"Mm." Maruzensky nodded, zipped the bag shut, and hefted it onto her back again.
Mizuno didn't have much to bring—she'd already packed everything—so he went inside, grabbed his phone, and the two of them headed out together.
Mizuno rolled ahead in his wheelchair. Maruzensky followed behind with the overloaded backpack.
They'd only gone a dozen meters when Mizuno suddenly stopped, turned back, and looked at her in confusion.
"Wait—aren't you driving?" he asked.
He clearly remembered she had a red sports car. Why did she look like she had zero intention of using it?
Was she seriously planning to jog all the way to the back-mountain training spot with a backpack that heavy?
Sure, for an Umamusume, it wasn't hard. But it was wildly inconvenient.
"Um… I…" Maruzensky shifted nervously, her long legs fidgeting in place.
"I… I can't. I'm scared I'll hit someone…"
Mizuno fell silent.
He vaguely remembered Symboli Rudolf mentioning it—after that incident, Maruzensky had never driven her beloved sports car again.
So that was it. She was too scared to drive, so she'd chosen to go on foot with him.
"I see…" Mizuno rested his chin on his hand, thinking.
If Rice Shower were in this situation, what would he do?
…Honestly, he'd probably have Rice Shower sit on his lap and they'd roll along together, happy as could be.
They were siblings, after all. A hug here and there was normal, right?
"B-But…" Mizuno side-eyed Maruzensky and swallowed hard.
Did she… need a hug too?