Urara bought the treats and handed one to Rice. They sat on a bench to eat.
(I wonder what a carrot crepe tastes like... is the carrot raw? Boiled? Or is it a grilled carrot surprise?)
I watched them eat, pulling out a small notebook.
(Rice is definitely a dainty eater... look at that pace. Is she a light eater across the board? I'll need to double-check her portions during the hamburger "punishment." A lack of calories might be contributing to her slight frame.)
"Wawa! Urara-chan, you have cream on your cheek!"
"Eh? Where? Rice-chan, get it for me!"
"Fufu... here, see?"
Rice reached out and wiped the cream away with her finger. Urara, without a second thought, grabbed Rice's hand and licked the cream off her finger.
Nice, Urara. Peak "Bad Girl" punishment.
"...Hmph."
I adjusted my fake glasses with a dignified click. I was totally composed. Totally.
Rice looked stunned for a second, then broke into a soft, genuine smile. That's right, Rice. That's just Urara. You can't fight it.
"Excuse me, sir. May we have a word?"
I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned around to find two police officers standing there.
"What exactly have you been doing here for the last twenty minutes?"
(Crap! The cops?! Why?!)
I was in a suit! I was a respectable salaryman! This wasn't the "shady guy in a mask" look!
"Hard at work, I see, officers. Just taking a breather in the park... haha, field work is tough for all of us, isn't it?"
I kept my voice steady and professional. Panicking is what makes you look guilty. I was just a man... watching two girls... eat crepes... very intently... while taking notes...
"It's Sunday, sir. This isn't exactly a business district. Why are you in a suit, sitting alone, staring at those Umamusume?"
(Logic! Damn, the Japanese police are too efficient!)
I considered claiming I was working even on a Sunday (which was technically true), but I realized I was one wrong move away from being hauled in for questioning. I reached into my jacket and produced my Trainer's License.
"I'm with Tracen Academy. Here is my ID."
"Oh... a Trainer? But why the outfit...?"
Thank god for the social status of Trainers. In a world where racing is the national pastime, a Trainer's License is practically a get-out-of-jail-free card. Besides, some of my senior colleagues dress like 80s disco stars or workout fanatics with no shirts on. A suit was practically conservative by comparison.
"Hey, Senpai," the younger officer whispered. "That girl over there... that's Rice Shower. The one who won the Kikuka-sho."
"Oh... the one who spoiled Mihono Bourbon's Triple Crown..." the older officer muttered.
I felt my eyebrow twitch.
Everyone knew the results. Everyone knew the "record." But so few people knew the sweat, the tears, and the sheer desperation that went into that victory. They only saw the "Spoiler."
I realized this was an opportunity.
"She's often remembered that way, isn't she? As the one who stopped the Triple Crown."
"Well, yes..."
"Oh, and the other one is Haru Urara," the younger cop added. "She's famous in the local shopping district. I actually like her. She's so bright and hard-working. I was cheering like a madman when she finally won her maiden race."
You've got good taste, kid, I thought. Let's get a drink sometime.
"Rice is hard-working, too," I said, my voice softening as I watched the two girls laughing together. "Actually, every Umamusume is. They train until they collapse, they run until their lungs burn, all for that one moment at the finish line. Rice is no different."
I wanted to snap at them, to tell them they had no idea what she'd been through. But instead, I chose a wry smile.
"It hurts when your favorite loses. I get that. But the girl who won worked just as hard. I hope you can at least appreciate that effort."
You can't win an argument against the internet; the noise is too loud. But face-to-face, heart-to-heart? You can change one person's mind at a time.
"I see... you're right. They really are just girls, aren't they? When you see her like that... she's actually quite small. Almost cute."
"Senpai, that sounds a bit creepy. Don't make me handcuff my own partner," the younger cop joked.
They were good people. I thanked them and went back to following my charges. I definitely wasn't running away because I was embarrassed. Definitely not.