The trainers in the cluster shifted uncomfortably, eyes narrowing at the tall, perfectly composed man who had just stepped forward like a stage actor taking center spotlight.
Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka shared the same puzzled expression, heads slightly tilted, ears twitching in sync. Silence Suzuka, however, didn't waste the distraction — she moved like the wind even off the track, slipping past the crowd without a sound.
Adal's eyes caught theirs and, with a slow, elegant bow, he began.
"Adalbert Johann Friedrich Himmler," he announced, drawing out each syllable as if unveiling a priceless heirloom. "Trainer and instructor at the illustrious Ashigawa Academy…" His voice lowered, dripping with theatrical reverence as he extended an open hand toward the man leaning on the rail in the background. "Led by none other than our headmaster, Harunaga Akuma."
Scarlet blinked, her tail flicking. "Ashigawa…?" she murmured, brows knitting. There was something in the name that tugged at her memory.
Vodka's lips curled into an amused grin. "Sounds old. And rusty. But I like you, weird man. You've got style."
Adal didn't skip a beat. His words flowed like wine in a gilded glass. "I could not—would not—ignore what I have just witnessed. Your heated rivalry… your defiant spirit… your desire for greatness—" He took a deep breath and smiled faintly, his eyes gleaming. "It is simply wunderschön. Magnificent."
Scarlet's ears twitched, and her cheeks heated slightly. "W–wha—? I mean— I guess… thanks?"
Vodka tilted her head with a teasing smirk. "Oh? Look at you getting all red. I didn't think you liked fancy talk."
"I'm not red!" Scarlet snapped, her tail puffing up in irritation. "I just… appreciate when someone recognizes talent."
Vodka leaned in, voice dripping with playful mockery. "Ohhh, so you like him."
"I never said that!" Scarlet's voice pitched upward. "I just—maybe I do like his enthusiasm! That doesn't mean—"
"I like him too," Vodka interrupted with a wicked grin. "So I'll be joining him first."
"Like hell you will!" Scarlet shot back instantly, stepping closer until the two were nearly forehead to forehead. "If anyone's joining, it's me! He clearly saw my performance—"
"—and mine was better." Vodka's tone was cool, confident, almost smug.
Adal clasped his hands together like a man watching a fine opera unfold, the smile on his face only widening. He alternated between the two like a conductor feeding energy to his soloists.
"Ah, such passion! Such fire! Truly, you are both diamonds—raw, uncut, demanding to be refined into brilliance!" His voice rose as he gestured dramatically, drawing curious looks from nearby trainers and Umas alike. "But I… I… can only polish you if you step into the same forge!"
Vodka laughed. "Polish me? You sure you're not just trying to recruit me so I make Scarlet mad?"
Scarlet huffed. "Don't flatter yourself. He clearly knows I'm the better choice."
"And yet here we are, tied in the same race," Vodka replied with an arched brow. "Guess I'm the one who's gonna break that tie."
Scarlet's fists clenched at her sides. "We'll see about that."
Adal's grin turned positively feline as he fanned the flames further. "Yes, yes! Compete for it! Let your rivalry not only sharpen each other, but also bring glory to Ashigawa! I promise you—" his voice lowered into a conspiratorial purr "—your duel will be the talk of the academy… and the track."
The two rivals glared at each other with that unspoken electricity only evenly matched opponents shared. Scarlet's tail flicked like a whip; Vodka's grin widened into a dare.
From the rail, McQueen's quiet giggle escaped, one hand delicately covering her mouth. "He's… really something, isn't he?"
Akuma's palm dragged down his face in a slow, weary motion. "…and this is why I didn't step forward."
Rice Shower stood beside them, eyes glittering with admiration. "He's amazing," she whispered, practically vibrating with excitement.
Akuma exhaled through his nose, slow and heavy, before pushing himself away from the railing. "Wait here for Adal," he murmured to McQueen without looking back.
She tilted her head, curious, but didn't press.
Akuma made his way toward the cooling area where the Umas were gathered post-race, the air thick with the mingled scent of sweat, turf, and liniment. Trainers clustered around their charges, voices low and purposeful. It was a space of quiet triumphs and muted disappointments.
And there, in the far corner away from the bustle, he saw her.
Silence Suzuka sat on the edge of a bench, her posture composed but her hands betraying her as they gently massaged her ankle. Strands of orange hair stuck slightly to her temples from the run, her tail flicking idly behind her.
Akuma didn't ask permission. He simply crossed the space in a few brisk steps and knelt down beside her.
Her ears twitched in surprise as he pulled a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and, with efficient precision, wrapped it around her ankle. Then he reached into his breast pocket, took out a pen, and slipped it gently beneath the knot in the cloth.
"This should help if you do this," he murmured, tightening the makeshift support with a practiced twist.
Suzuka's eyes widened, watching him work. "Ah… thank you," she said softly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Her gaze lingered on him, studying the sharp lines of his face, the way he didn't quite meet her eyes, as though he was more concerned with the task than with her reaction.
Once satisfied with his work, Akuma straightened to his full height, brushing a trace of dust from his trousers. "…Where's your trainer?"
She hesitated before answering, shaking her head. "I… don't have one yet."
He nodded once, the movement small and deliberate. "I see."
For a moment, the sounds of the cooling area faded — the chatter, the distant echo of the announcer's voice, the muted clink of metal buckets. Suzuka was still staring at him, as if trying to read something in the set of his jaw or the quiet weight of his presence.
When she finally turned her eyes away, she spoke carefully, almost as if she were revealing something fragile. "The reason is… well, I—"
"Whatever it is you want," he interrupted, his voice calm, even. "Once you get it… if you can consider taking me in as your trainer, even if only for a moment's thought… I'd be happy."
Suzuka blinked, startled by both the simplicity and the certainty in his tone. Her ears flicked once, twice, and she found herself glancing back at him.
Akuma looked at her for a moment, unreadable.
And then… he left.