Hachiman's POV
The eighteen Horse Girls who had just poured their souls into the Tokyo turf remained on the track, their eyes glued to the giant screen. The inquiry lamp continued to glow a stubborn red. Ten minutes had passed, yet the scoreboard only listed the third-place finisher and below.
Bourbon had taken the Satsuki Sho by a hair; now, the world was waiting to see if the "Cyborg" had held her ground or if the "Rice Shower" had finally washed over her. As Rice's trainer, my heart was hammering against my ribs just as hard as hers. I had walked down from the stands to stand with Kuronuma-san near the rail. We wanted to be the first to see the numbers change.
"...It's taking forever," Kuronuma grunted. "I've never seen them struggle this much over a photo finish."
"It just proves how little daylight there was between them," I replied, my eyes fixed on the screen. "Just like the Satsuki Sho—a race for the ages."
"Yeah. 'Master.'"
Bourbon trotted toward us, her breathing finally beginning to level out.
"I apologize, Master," she said, stopping before Kuronuma. "It appears I was unable to complete the order with total certainty. The situation has become… difficult to calculate."
"It's still under inquiry. Don't hang your head yet," Kuronuma said, though his voice was gentler than usual. "You held off a fierce charge from Rice Shower all the way to the wire. You should be proud of that tenacity."
"Yes. Thank you, Master."
I watched her. She was as expressionless as a stone statue. Is she actually happy? Is she sad? I can't tell if that's relief or just her default settings.
"Big Brother!"
I turned to see Rice walking toward me. "Hey, Rice. Incredible race out there."
"Mhm! Thank you."
"You couldn't quite edge her out, huh? Actually, scratch that—we don't know yet. Was it tough out there?"
"Yeah," Rice said, a small, tired smile on her face. "Bourbon-san was even stronger than I imagined. I was really surprised."
"I'll say. But look at the gap—you two left the rest of the field five lengths behind. It was a private duel for the finish line. You gave it everything."
I reached out and did what had become second nature. I gently stroked her hair, patting her head.
"You did good, Rice."
"Ehehe…" Rice leaned into my hand, her ears twitching happily.
"...Trainer," a voice interrupted. I looked over to see Bourbon staring at my hand. "I strongly desire the same treatment. Please."
I blinked. "Uh, ask Kuronuma-san for that."
"Master is indifferent and unpracticed in such gestures," Bourbon stated flatly, effectively throwing her trainer under the bus. "Therefore, I am requesting this from a trainer who possesses the necessary skills."
Did she just low-key diss Kuronuma's social skills? And why am I the one with 'skills' in headpats?
"Trainer… no, that is incorrect," Bourbon corrected herself, her eyes taking on a predatory glint of logic. "Big Brother. I request this immediately."
"Since when does that nickname work on—"
"Please. I insist." She stepped closer. Way closer.
"Whoa, okay, okay! Just… give me some space. I'll do it, just stop looming over me."
Kuronuma looked at me, rubbing his chin. "Do you think I should look into acquiring these 'skills' too, Hikigaya? What's your professional opinion?"
"Don't bother," I groaned. "If I could get rid of this 'skill,' I'd do it in a heartbeat."
"No! Big Brother, you can't!" Rice shouted.
"I forbid it," Bourbon added, her voice dropping an octave. "Absolutely not. Now, Big Brother… the headpats. Proceed."
"Fine, fine, I'm—"
"We have an announcement. Following the inquiry for the 10th race at Tokyo, the result is as follows: Gate 13, Rice Shower, and Gate 15, Mihono Bourbon, have been declared a dead heat. The victory is shared."
The stadium erupted.
"A dead heat, huh?" I muttered. So close, and yet we couldn't quite take the crown for ourselves.
"...It's a bittersweet feeling," Kuronuma admitted.
"Yeah. I guess we're settling this at the Kikka Sho."
Bourbon stood perfectly still. "The Double Crown… is achieved. Albeit by the thinnest of margins. A painful draw, then."
"...Yeah," Rice said, looking at her rival. "Today was a draw, but next time, Rice is going to be the one in front!"
Bourbon offered a rare, faint curve of her lips. "...Fufu. It seems Rice-san will be my most formidable obstacle in the next race as well."
"Alright, you two," I said, shooing them toward the track. "Get to the winner's circle. The fans are waiting for their champions."
"Oh, right! I'm going!" Rice waved and started trotting off.
"Master, I shall depart," Bourbon said to Kuronuma. Then she turned her robotic gaze back to me. "Big Brother, do not think I have forgotten. We shall conclude our business regarding the headpats later."
Damn, she's persistent…
I watched as they were showered with cheers. Both of them waved to the crowd, though Bourbon's "smiling" was more like a subtle twitch of her mouth. Rice, at least, looked like she was enjoying the limelight a little more.
— After the Winning Live —
"That was a weird show," I muttered as I waited backstage. "Having two centers just because of a tie… then putting third and fourth place as the backups? Talk about a luxury lineup."
"It was definitely unique!" Rice said, joining me. "Oh, look—Bourbon-san?"
Bourbon was standing by the exit, leaning against a pillar.
"I have been waiting," she said. "Good work, Rice-san. Good work, Big Brother."
"Stop with the 'Big Brother' thing," I sighed. "Just call me Trainer like usual. What are you doing here anyway? Where's Kuronuma-san?"
"I requested that Master go on ahead," Bourbon explained. "I wished to return with you. Furthermore, our contract regarding the promise made at 15:43:27 remains unfulfilled."
"...What are you talking about?"
"Big Brother, I think she means the headpats," Rice giggled.
"I confirm this," Bourbon said. "I strongly desire them. Now."
Good grief. She stayed behind just for that? I realized there was no escape.
"Fine, fine. But let's at least get back to the academy first. Rice and I still have things to take care of."
"Understood," Bourbon said, falling into step beside us.
As we walked toward the transport, I realized my situation had somehow worsened. Rice had latched onto my left arm, and Bourbon—without a hint of hesitation—had claimed my right.
I'm not a runaway suspect. I'm not being arrested. So why do I feel like I've been taken into custody by two of the fastest girls in the country?
The Derby ends in a historic draw. The rivalry is now a stalemate, and the road to the Kikka Sho is paved with both competitive fire and a very confused Hachiman.
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