...
In early February, Lucian brought McQueen to Hanshin Racecourse.
Since they couldn't skip classes without reason, this time it was only Lucian and Mejiro McQueen heading out.
The track was 1700 meters long—not exactly Mejiro McQueen's strong suit.
However, since it wasn't a major prize race, the participating horse girls were quite inexperienced, but Lucian still did pre-race analysis.
Racecourse lounge.
"Nervous?" Lucian asked.
"It's okay, I actually feel the team's mock races are more nerve-wracking."
"Haha, Seiun and Spe-chan put more pressure on you, huh."
Lucian picked up the inspected shoes and naturally squatted down to put them on Mejiro McQueen. "I've checked the horseshoes; they're very secure."
"Trainer-san, I can do it myself." Mejiro McQueen watched Lucian lift her ankle, feeling a bit awkward and unaccustomed.
"Oh, sorry, habit." Lucian patted his hands and stood up, leaving the other shoe for Mejiro McQueen to put on herself. "If you use the front-running tactic, remember to time it well. Actually, as long as you break out, there's no problem."
"Trainer-san, you told me that many times yesterday."
Lucian scratched the back of his head. "Haha, a bit naggy."
"But..." Mejiro McQueen stood up after putting on her shoes, her aura suddenly shifting. She flicked her long purple hair from her back. "Thank you very much for Trainer's help during this time. I will return victorious."
"Good, I'll wait for you at the withdrawal passage."
...
This was a race with no suspense. Mejiro McQueen won by a crushing five body lengths over second place and ten over third.
Lucian stood in the dim withdrawal passage, watching Mejiro McQueen face the audience with a cold expression—like a blooming peony, exuding noble elegance.
"This expression..." Lucian recorded the moment with his camera. "If it showed a bit of 'disdain,' wouldn't it be better? Or is this just my personal fetish."
Off-track Mejiro McQueen was very different from on-track—like a princess stepping out of the council hall, turning into a tsundere girl next door.
"Trainer-san, what are you thinking?"
Unbeknownst to him, Mejiro McQueen had walked up to Lucian, snapping him out of his daze. "Don't tell me you've been infected by Teio?"
"Hm? McQueen, what makes you say that?"
Saying he was as dazed as Spe-chan was understandable. Saying he was as dazed as Matikanetannhauser wasn't impossible either.
But saying he was infected by Tokai Teio? What the heck?
"Doesn't Trainer know? Teio sometimes zones out suddenly when everyone's chatting." Mejiro McQueen recalled. "She often seems to stare in Seiun and Urara's direction."
"Maybe she just finds it too boring?" Lucian asked.
"I wouldn't know that." Mejiro McQueen shook her head, noticing the camera in Lucian's hand. "Trainer took a lot of photos?"
"Mm, take a look."
Mejiro McQueen took the camera and flipped through about a dozen. "A few are really well-shot... but why are some so blurry?"
Lucian leaned in to look. "High-speed burst didn't focus right; the subject melted like cream."
Mejiro McQueen smiled lightly. "Quite an apt metaphor."
"Don't laugh; deleting a photo costs 50. If you don't pay, I'll post them to the group chat later."
"Trainer-san, in that case, I won't return the camera." Mejiro McQueen moved the camera away; she, who valued decorum most, didn't want to look bad in front of everyone.
"I'm kidding."
"Really..." Mejiro McQueen returned the camera.
"I'm kidding."
Mejiro McQueen: "?"
"Trainer-san, please don't do anything rude."
Saying that, Mejiro McQueen walked gracefully toward the lounge on her own.
Lucian followed behind her. "Any ideas for tomorrow night's victory celebration?"
"Trainer, delete the photos first." Various cakes and desserts flashed through Mejiro McQueen's mind; she unconsciously swallowed.
"Delete delete, all jokes with you. So what do we eat tonight?"
Though she craved it deeply, Mejiro McQueen wasn't about to say it easily. "Trainer, you can arrange it..."
Seeing the not-so-frank Mejiro McQueen, Lucian had to say: "Like that, huh. I was originally thinking of baking some pastries, learning to make tiramisu or something. But now..."
Mejiro McQueen stopped. "Now what?"
"Now if McQueen has no requests, I'll make something else."
"Actually." Mejiro McQueen glanced aside, speaking softly. "What Trainer just mentioned sounds pretty good. If paired with milk or coffee drinks..."
"Got it, decided then." Lucian passed by Mejiro McQueen, walking ahead.
"Trainer-san." Mejiro McQueen pinched Lucian's sleeve with two fingers. "Will there be egg fried rice too?"
Lucian turned his head, showing a bright smile. "Of course, no problem. So you don't have to be so polite; tell me anything you want to eat. Lots of people beg me with high prices to cook a meal, and I don't do it."
As he spoke, Lucian couldn't help but tilt his head up.
Mejiro McQueen also picked up on the smugness. "I know Trainer-san is amazing."
"But why does Trainer know I like sweets like pastries?"
"Because I often see you eating them at the school café."
"So that's how."
...
Mejiro McQueen was of course no flash in the pan; her debut at Hanshin Racecourse was just the beginning.
On February 25, Lucian once again took Mejiro McQueen to compete in the 2000-meter Snow Willow Stakes.
The proud little filly suffered a small setback, breaking out of the pack only in the final stage—too late, taking second place.
But where there's a first time, there's a second. A few weeks later in the Sun Creek Stakes, Mejiro McQueen crossed the line in second again.
Lucian found this little filly didn't need much consoling; the more setbacks, the braver she became, her fighting spirit growing stronger.
Though she didn't take first, these results were enough for Mejiro McQueen to consider the upcoming Classic Triple Crown.
But history always has too few "ifs" and too many "buts."
The night before Lucian planned to discuss the next race with Mejiro McQueen, he received her call.
"Trainer, my therapist told me my leg has a fracture."
"What!?" Lucian's brows furrowed tightly.
...