Under a certain someone's bizarre maneuvers, this short dinner ended in a subtle, complicated atmosphere.
Even though Hayakawa Tazuna and Komata Hajime couldn't stand each other—sparring fiercely in the middle, their clash sharp as needle against needle.
But now...
Looking at that man over there, completely oblivious to the undercurrents, flipping through a stack of documents in his hands while marveling to them about how "this izakaya is really cheap and tasty"—
They both suddenly felt a wave of powerlessness. Even a touch of self-doubt.
Against this kind of blockheaded idiot, was all that fighting really necessary…?
As for Kitahara himself, while he did notice that after the meal the mood seemed a little strange, he didn't dwell on it.
After all, the whole thing about pretending to be a boyfriend was already weird enough—let alone the fact that Hayakawa wanted him to pretend in front of the entire academy.
Forget the two of them—even he felt something off about it. So some odd reactions from them seemed normal.
Which was why he didn't pay too much attention.
Compared to their mood shifts, he was more focused on the izakaya's discounts and promotions. After paying, he even took one of the promotional flyers back with him, planning to study it later.
As for the other two—seeing this behavior, they both fell silent for a long while. Then they exchanged a glance, sighed in unison, and in each other's eyes saw the same emotion reflected.
And so, in this strange atmosphere, Kitahara returned to his dorm.
After the usual washing up and tending to Nice Nature, he lay down and ended his day.
The moon fell, the sun rose. One night passed.
Wake up, wash, eat, go to the training ground, start slacking.
Everything returned to that familiar, peaceful and steady rhythm.
Kitahara thought this felt pretty good.
He wasn't Liang, wasn't Ying, but as someone who also longed for a quiet life, of course Kitahara leaned toward order and peace.
Only—mid-slack, he suddenly noticed that within this long-lost calm and harmony, a faint discordant note had crept in.
Special Week.
Because he had deliberately kept away yesterday, he didn't know what had happened between her and Grass Wonder.
He only remembered that, just before ending training, when they gathered, she seemed a little… off.
But he hadn't paid much attention then.
Because Suzuka hadn't been at practice all afternoon yesterday—Kitahara assumed Special Week was downcast because of that.
But the problem was—today Suzuka was right there beside her.
And still Special Week's mood was flat. Her usually lively tail and ears drooped listlessly, her training steps heavier than usual.
Strange. Suzuka's here today, but she doesn't even seem interested in her. That's… not right…
Kitahara frowned slightly, considering another possibility.
Wait… could something have happened with Grass Wonder?
The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.
After all, yesterday, with Suzuka gone, the one who spent the most time talking to her was Grass Wonder.
And judging by the way Grass Wonder had rushed over—there was no way "nothing" had happened.
After pondering, Kitahara decided: Grass Wonder must have confessed directly yesterday. And Special Week, realizing there was a girl constantly thinking of her, had been so startled she ended up like this.
Thinking so, he looked toward Grass Wonder, and raised his brows.
But contrary to what he expected, Grass Wonder's training condition today wasn't worse—in fact, compared to yesterday, it had improved dramatically.
Kitahara knew some of this was thanks to his care.
But that alone couldn't explain it.
For her condition to be this good, Grass Wonder's mentality had to have shifted as well—you could see it from the lightness of her steps.
So, after confessing yesterday, her burden was lifted, and she feels freer now?
That's what Kitahara thought—but then again, something didn't fit.
Because judging from Special Week's reaction—even if Grass Wonder had confessed, Special Week definitely hadn't accepted her. In that case, Grass Wonder should have been unhappy too…
Very strange.
The more he thought, the less sense it made.
So he decided to ask the parties directly.
Normally, he didn't like meddling in others' relationships. But unlike Oguri, Special Week hadn't agreed to a "mutual non-interference pact."
And since this was clearly affecting her training—whether as her elder or as her trainer, he couldn't ignore it.
But before he could even think how to bring it up, after lunch, Special Week came to him first.
"Sota…"
She looked up at him pitifully, eyes full of sorrow and grievance.
Seeing her like this, Kitahara sighed helplessly.
"There are too many people here. Let's talk somewhere else."
Special Week nodded obediently, and followed him back to his dorm.
They entered, closed the door, sat down on the sofa.
The moment she sat, Kitahara felt something press into his chest.
Not surprised—he just automatically patted her back, fingers twining through her hair, rubbing gently.
He didn't rush to ask what was wrong. Instead, he let her sit like that, waited until her emotions calmed a little.
Then he spoke.
"What's wrong? You don't look happy at all today."
Special Week opened her mouth, faltered, stammered, but couldn't get words out.
She honestly didn't know how to explain.
Yesterday—after what happened—she'd been briefly angry at Grass Wonder's provocation. But once it faded, what remained was mostly confusion, and hurt.
Because she truly did see Grass Wonder as a friend.
Not at Suzuka's level, of course—but among her other friends, Grass Wonder ranked very high.
And since Grass Wonder had always been "helping her" in secret, Special Week had grown even fonder of her. Almost her closest, most trusted friend after Suzuka.
As for Kitahara?
That was a special case. He didn't count in the usual rankings.
But then yesterday—Grass Wonder had acted like that.
That blatantly hostile, betraying behavior.
To be honest—even if Grass Wonder had simply said she liked Sota too, and wouldn't be "helping" anymore—Special Week wouldn't have been so lost and hurt.
Because in her eyes, with Kitahara being so good, it wasn't strange if Grass Wonder fell for him too.
And if she'd just said it openly—even though Special Week would never give him up—because of their bond, because Grass Wonder had helped her so much, she would've been willing to share small things.
Like his preferences. Some secret little habits no one else knew.
Especially now, with the Kitahara Cup so competitive—Special Week was insecure. She also wanted a trustworthy teammate.
They could always team up first, fight off the others—then battle each other for real.
But now…
Remembering yesterday's words, Grass Wonder's smiles—Special Week's eyes grew more and more lost, more and more sad.
She didn't know what she'd done wrong. Just the day before they'd talked normally, and now it had turned out like that.
So today she came to Kitahara. Not only to be comforted, to be held, but also to find out—what had happened yesterday.
Because Grass Wonder had only started acting that way after leaving Kitahara's place.
But when it came time to speak, she realized—she didn't know how to start.
Direct confession? Impossible.
Her current closeness, these hugs, the little intimacies—all existed only because Sota didn't know her true feelings.
If he found out, he'd reject her. And afterwards, even these simple comforts would be gone—he might even keep his distance.
But hinting? She was hopeless at that.
Even though her growing hair had brought her a little more intelligence—her nature was still straightforward. No matter how clever she got, she wasn't cut out for subtle word games.
So when Kitahara asked, she hesitated and stumbled for a long time, but said nothing.
And in that hesitation—Kitahara spoke first.
"Is it because of Grass Wonder?"
Her body stiffened. Then she nodded faintly in his arms.
Seeing her nod, Kitahara sighed.
Truthfully, he wasn't sure if Grass Wonder had confessed or not. But either way, he had a headache figuring out how to talk to Special Week about it.
Still—headache or not, as an adult (self-proclaimed), and as their trainer, he felt it was his duty to help resolve it. Retreat was not an option.
But he didn't want to blunder either. So when he spoke, he was careful.
"Did she say something to you after going back?"
After a pause, Special Week nodded again.
"I see…"
Kitahara nodded, thought a moment, then continued.
"So right now—you feel betrayed by a friend, don't you?"
Nod.
"You're confused, you don't know what to do, or how to face her?"
Nod.
"If you could, you'd want your relationship to go back the way it was?"
Nod.
Case closed.
Definitely Grass Wonder confessing straight-up.
Kitahara exhaled silently, his face helpless, his eyes carrying that familiar hate iron for not becoming steel expression.
Yes, he'd encouraged her yesterday to be proactive—but not this much!
Yesterday he'd thought she'd finally gotten it. But now it turned out she was still clueless.
Special Week clearly still had her heart tied to Suzuka. Her affection for Grass Wonder wasn't nearly there yet—she probably hadn't even realized what Grass Wonder was aiming at.
Confessing now—wasn't that just suicide?
And seeing Grass Wonder's cheerful face, she was probably still fantasizing after getting a "let me think about it" from Special Week…
This is a disaster, Grass Wonder. After all my assists for you too!
He seethed silently.
But regardless of his grumbling, punishment could wait. Right now, what mattered was Special Week.
After a moment's thought, he spoke again.
"Special Week, listen. I know it's hard when this kind of thing happens to you. Your heart must feel awful right now."
"But you don't need to torture yourself."
"You're still young. There's time. No need to decide anything in a rush."
"Even putting everything else aside—you're about to debut. Wait until after you've raced for three years. You can decide then, it won't be too late."
"And looking at it positively—at least Grass Wonder doesn't mean you any harm. To some people, in fact, this might even be something worth being happy about…"
…No harm? Worth being happy?
At first, listening to him, Special Week thought maybe he'd caught on.
Curled tight in his arms, her face flushed red, she hardly dared move, convinced her secret would be exposed in the next second.
But as his words went on, she slowly realized—something was off.
Sota… don't tell me you think Grass Wonder likes me?
She knew Grass Wonder had no such feelings.
At least, if she did, she wouldn't have been so eager to play matchmaker for her before.
But—even knowing that—considering how dense Kitahara was, she couldn't dismiss the thought.
And remembering… all those times he'd "just happened" to give her and Grass Wonder moments alone. Those countless "assists" that suddenly looked very different in hindsight…
As her memories deepened, her expression grew stranger. She even forgot her sadness toward Grass Wonder for the moment.
And Kitahara, seeing her mood brighten, thought his comfort had worked, and was about to sigh in relief when—
"Idiot."
A small voice rose from his chest.
Kitahara blinked. Had he misheard?
"What? Did you just say something?"
A moment later, it came again.
"Sota is an idiot."
Kitahara: "…???"
Here I am comforting you—and I'm the idiot? That's gratitude for you…
But Special Week gave no explanation.
Because she'd realized something: maybe she could make use of this misunderstanding. Maybe it could even work to her advantage.
Even so—deep inside, she couldn't help the flicker of resentment.
She liked him—and he was helping someone else pursue her…
With that thought, she slid up against his chest, then nipped lightly at his neck.
"Hh—"
Kitahara sucked in a breath.
It didn't hurt. Special Week would never wound her most precious treasure. It was barely more than a symbolic bite—closer to a kiss.
And Kitahara wasn't reacting to pain—he just went along with it, letting her vent.
After a while, as her little "bite" ended, Kitahara patted her back gently.
"How about now? Feeling a little better?"
"…No."
She pouted, turning her face away.
Kitahara actually relaxed at that.
But before he could fully exhale, she spoke again.
"Sota… am I really that good? Even to the point that Grass Wonder would…"
She trailed off on purpose.
And naturally—because of the setup—Kitahara misunderstood completely, smiling as he rubbed her head.
"Of course. Our Special Week is such a good, adorable child."
"…Liar."
Her cheeks puffed, eyes serious as she looked at him.
"You don't even like me."
Kitahara froze—then chuckled helplessly, still ruffling her hair.
"How could I not? I like you a lot, Special Week. But there are different kinds of liking. Grass Wonder's feelings are one kind. My feelings for you are another…"
But his words halted suddenly.
"…Special Week, what are you doing?"
Because her body had shifted, twisting in his lap until she was facing him directly, pressed full against his chest. Her face inches from his own.
And in that instant—an ominous premonition rose.
Which was proven right, moments later.
"I know you're only saying this to comfort me. But I don't want false kindness. I want Sota's real love…"
"No, wait, listen—there are different kinds of love. Like, for example, your mother—"
His words broke off.
Soft warmth pressed against his lips, silencing him.
But this time—because Special Week couldn't bear to use force—he wasn't pinned down on the sofa.
That didn't make it better. If anything, it was worse.
Because before—yes, he'd been shoved onto the sofa, but apart from lips, nothing else had crossed the line.
Now though—Special Week was sitting squarely in his lap. Chest to chest.
And as her kiss deepened, her body swayed softly against his.
Unlike many other Uma Musume, Special Week's figure was well-developed, her frame broader, her form fuller.
Not quite the overwhelming embrace of Super Creek—but plump and soft enough.
And with only a few thin layers of cloth between them, none of it was lost.
The memory of her earlier "bite," the clumsy fumbling of her kiss, the unreserved softness pressing against him…
Kitahara wanted to tell her to get off. But his mouth was sealed.
And though she wasn't restraining him with force—Special Week's natural strength was great, even among Uma Musume.
Without using methods that might hurt her, pushing her away was almost impossible.
So after trying and failing in several ways—under the relentless stimulation—
Kitahara, as a healthy man with no mental issues, inevitably reacted.
And Special Week felt it.
Her body froze for a beat. Then, cheeks blazing like a boiled shrimp, she pressed closer, kissing him again with renewed determination.
Time stretched.
At last, the kiss broke.
Special Week lifted her head slowly, gaze unfocused, hazy, fixed on him.
"Sota, I…"
She started to speak.
But before she could—clear footsteps echoed outside.
They stopped at the door.
And then—
Knock, knock, knock.