The wind at the rooftop carried a faint chill, tugging at coats and hair alike. Below, the courtyard and track buzzed with life — the voices of Umas echoing with determination as they pushed themselves against weights, laps, and sparring drills. The clatter of equipment, the rhythm of hooves striking ground, even the laughter and shouts carried upward.
Adalbert leaned lightly against the railing, one hand holding a small porcelain cup filled with steaming coffee, the other gesturing grandly as if even the morning sky were his stage. His crimson coat fluttered faintly with the breeze, catching the light of the sun.
Beside him, Akuma stood with his own cup — black tea, unsweetened, cooling steadily in the wind. His eyes were sharp, half-lidded with exhaustion yet never missing a detail down below.
"…We have some pretty amazing Umas, huh?" Adalbert murmured. His voice was warm, almost reverent. Scarlet and Vodka, glancing up in the middle of their weight training, caught his eye. Their faces lit up, and they waved, grinning through their sweat before returning to their exertions. Adalbert's smile widened, his chest swelling with fondness. "Mein Sternchen… always shining."
Akuma's lips twitched. His gaze, however, wasn't on Scarlet or Vodka. Instead, it followed a much different scene — Tachyon cornering Oguri Cap with a glass of some suspicious green concoction. Oguri, blank-faced, accepted it and began to drink without hesitation. Tachyon's grin stretched ear to ear, her tail swishing in scientific triumph.
"…You could say that again," Akuma muttered, voice dry as stone. His tea touched his lips, his expression unchanging as he drank.
The two men sighed in unison.
For Adalbert, it was a sigh of contentment — his girls, his troupe, his stars, each burning brighter than the next.
For Akuma, it was a sigh of weary exasperation — his fragile sanity hanging on by threads as the Umas tested the limits of his patience daily.
Footsteps echoed against the rooftop stairwell. Both trainers turned slightly, not needing to guess who it was by the rhythm of the gait alone.
"Boss."
Mischa stepped onto the rooftop, hands stuffed casually into the pockets of his jacket. His hair was tied back messily, his eyes carrying the same sharp exhaustion Akuma's did, though with a touch more indifference. He exhaled heavily, the sound matching the sighs that had already filled the air.
Adalbert raised his cup with a grin. "Ah, mein Kamerad. Come, join us in admiring our radiant stars."
"Morning," Akuma greeted simply, nodding once.
Mischa nodded back, then leaned against the railing on Akuma's other side. All three turned their gazes downward once more.
"…This has been quite the weekend," Akuma deadpanned.
"Indeed," Adalbert agreed, swirling the last of his coffee as if it were fine wine.
"You can say that again," Mischa muttered, shaking his head. His hands fished briefly inside his coat, and when they came out again, they held something that caught the sunlight.
A small trophy. Bronze polished with a glinting plaque.
Wordlessly, Mischa extended it toward Akuma.
Akuma blinked, staring at it as though someone had handed him a live grenade. "…What's this."
"A trophy."
"I can see that." His eyes narrowed. "…For what."
Mischa shrugged. "Winning the Kyodo News Hai."
Adalbert nearly spit out his coffee. "Pardon!?"
Akuma set his cup down slowly, carefully, then reached to take the trophy, inspecting the engraved plate with blank disbelief. Sure enough: Kyodo News Hai – 1st Place.
"…You want to run that by me again," Akuma said flatly.
Mischa tilted his head as if this were the most normal thing in the world. "Me and Gold Ship got lost last Saturday."
"Lost," Akuma repeated.
"Mm. Ended up on the wrong track. Before we knew it, we were in the middle of a lineup."
Adalbert's jaw dropped open. "You… wandered into a race?"
Mischa nodded, calm as ever. "Couldn't really back out at that point. Gold Ship ran it. Won it. So we got this." He gestured casually to the trophy like it was a free souvenir.
Silence blanketed the rooftop.
Akuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "…You accidentally entered a Grade 3 race."
"Mm."
"…And won."
"Yep."
Adalbert burst into laughter so loud it echoed across the rooftop. "Ahhh, fantastich! What a glorious tale of chaos and triumph! To stumble upon a race and conquer it nonetheless! Wunderschön!"
"You're encouraging him," Akuma muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
"I'm celebrating him," Adalbert corrected, beaming proudly. "A tale worthy of any grand stage!"
Mischa only shrugged, his indifference unshaken. "Oh, and I built a pool."
Both men froze.
"…What," Akuma said slowly.
"A pool."
Adalbert tilted his head, blinking. "…Did I hear that correctly? A pool?"
"Yep. Behind the dorms." Mischa's tone didn't change, as if he were mentioning he'd bought groceries. "Figured they could use one for conditioning."
Akuma's eyes narrowed. "…How. When."
"Had some leftover materials. Did it overnight. Gold Ship helped."
Adalbert slammed a hand against the railing, throwing his head back with a booming laugh. "Mein Gott!! First a trophy, now a pool! What wonders shall tomorrow bring?"
"Probably a lawsuit," Akuma muttered, rubbing his temples.
Below them, Scarlet and Vodka had paused their training to glance up, tilting their heads curiously at the sound of Adalbert's thunderous laughter. Special Week was trying to drag McQueen into a sprint, her determination unshaken by McQueen's indignant yelps. Tachyon continued scribbling notes as Oguri downed another suspicious concoction.
The rooftop trio watched, each with their own brand of silence.
Adalbert's eyes gleamed with joy. "…Truly, they are magnificent. Every one of them."
Mischa's gaze softened faintly, unreadable but not unkind. "…Hn."
Akuma sipped his tea again, sighing through his nose. "…Magnificent, sure. If you mean terrifying.."
The three men stood together in quiet contrast: one seeing a family of stars, one seeing a lineup of rivals, and one just trying to keep the world from burning itself down around him.
The rooftop wind carried all three sighs away into the sky.