Early morning. While her roommate Mayano Top Gun still dreamed sweetly, Tokai Teio woke as always. After a quick wash, she slipped into her tracksuit and stepped out of the dorm room.
At the dorm entrance, she gazed at the sun just rising on the horizon. Her ears twitched, she drew in a deep breath—then broke into a jog.
Lately, her mood had been heavy. The only way to vent that gloom was to run, to sweat.
Trainer Mizuno had been on sick leave for a full week. Teio had been downcast for a full week.
Even though in the daily video calls Mizuno looked fine—no trace of weakness—Teio couldn't stop worrying.
Her experience from countless romance dramas told her: when someone says "It's nothing serious," it usually means it's already late stage.
Maybe Trainer Mizuno was like the drama's male lead—smiling on the surface, but hiding grave illness. Putting on strength just to keep everyone else from worrying, while silently suffering pain every second.
She wanted to visit him. But the male trainers' dorm location was a tightly guarded secret, unknown to any Uma.
She'd even considered tailing the school bus that returned male trainers to the dorm each night, but the old driver's skills were superhuman—she couldn't keep up at all, and had to abandon the idea.
So to replenish her energy, she had no choice but to cling to President Rudolf more and more.
Yet even that failed yesterday. When Teio went to the Student Council room, Rudolf wasn't there. She'd said she was visiting a friend. She didn't come back the whole day.
That left Teio even more dispirited. In afternoon training, she nearly tripped, and if Rice Shower hadn't caught her, she would have been injured.
Now.
Teio ran out of the Academy, along the Uma-only lane of the main street, running a full hour. By the time sweat drenched her body, her exhaustion finally dulled the ache in her chest. She turned back toward Tracen Academy, planning to return to the dorm, shower, and then head to class.
That had been her routine every morning this week. Today should have been the same.
But today—something changed.
Just as she crossed the school gates, she caught a faint scent. She froze.
"Wait... this smell!" Her head snapped toward the training grounds.
A fresh, sweet fragrance, like honey mixed with floral laundry soap. Delicate, unique. Faint, far—but clear to an Uma's nose.
And in this world, only one person could carry that scent.
"Trainer Mizuno!"
On the grassy slope by the training grounds, a man in black lay sprawled lazily, basking in the sun.
"Flowers, trees, sky, breeze, clouds, sun..."
Trainer Mizuno muttered random words while drifting in thought.
He had slipped out of the dorm earlier that morning.
After he explained to Rudolf the difference between her and Broshi, somehow she had become delighted.
Not only did she ease her grip, moving his hand away from her blushing cheek, she stopped pressuring him entirely. She even went to the kitchen to make breakfast, then cleaned the room with a serene smile, as though she no longer cared at all that Mizuno was closer to Gold Ship.
On the surface, it looked like an improvement. But Mizuno felt something was very wrong.
Watching Rudolf scrub his room like some virtuous housewife left him sitting on pins and needles. So he claimed he wanted to step out for a while, promising he'd be back by noon.
And she didn't stop him. She even told him to come back early, she'd make lunch for him.
That was worse. Much worse.
So after careful thought, Mizuno decided he'd slip out to Tracen Academy that morning.
As the saying goes: the most dangerous place is the safest place.
No one knew he'd gone. And it was morning, during cultural classes, when no Uma would be at the grounds. Certainly not Urara and the others, those model students.
That was why Mizuno now dared to lie here so openly, soaking in the sun, releasing a week's worth of pent-up stifling air.
"Rainbow, sea, beach, forest, pebbles, gravel, earth... hm?"
But as he chanted nonsense words, a vibration trembled up from the ground beneath him, shaking his body slightly.
By rough guess, that meant either a Road Roller-da was passing nearby... or an Uma was sprinting toward him in a frenzy.
Since the training grounds weren't under construction, the roller was impossible.
That left only one answer.
"No way..." He gulped, sat up—and saw Teio charging toward him.
"Trainer Mizuno!"
Before he could react, she had slammed into him like a cannonball.
"Bu-gaa!" The impact sent Mizuno flying meters through the air. They tumbled together across the grass in a rolling heap.
When the momentum finally died, Mizuno found himself pinned, Teio straddling his stomach.
"Teio?!" He clutched his head, staring wide-eyed.
Why was she here?! At this time she should've been eating breakfast, heading to class!
And worse—the posture was exactly the same as Rudolf pinning him on the bed last night!
"Trainer Mizuno! I missed you so much!"
Teio nuzzled furiously against his chest, drinking in his energy, rubbing her little face into him again and again.
That scent, that chest, that familiar fluster—after a week of emptiness, her heart overflowed with joy. Her tail coiled tightly around his leg, her ears slapped wildly against his face, pure excitement.
But while Teio was elated, Mizuno was in torment.
Her body heat was like fresh bread from the oven. Combined with her frantic rubbing, his chest felt like it was being drilled by a red-hot pile driver. If she didn't stop soon, his outfit was going to burn a hole straight through.
"Teio! Stop! You're going to rub my clothes to shreds!"