Outside the sweetshop, a black-haired, golden-eyed Uma Musume gently leaned against the display case, a struggle evident in her eyes.
"I really don't think this is a good idea..."
"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."
Sunday Serenity's reflection nodded in agreement from the shop window. "Grand crimes that'll go down in history, like robbing a bank? Maybe. But swiping snacks? That's the kind of thing only a kid with no pocket money and even less upbringing would do."
"I'm so sorry for suddenly having the thoughts of a penniless, ill-bred child, I truly apologize!" Murmuring the words, Sunday Serenity covered her face.
It all started with last night's training.
Having lost her spectral form, Sunday Silence could hardly be called a ghost anymore.
After merging with Sunday Serenity's soul, Sunday Silence could no longer control a separate apparition, but she could project her consciousness in a purer form. The downside was her actions were now like magnetic attraction—impossible to observe directly.
Except for one fleeting moment. Sunday Serenity had seen her, fully physical again, if only for an instant.
And that single glimpse had ignited a blazing fire within her.
Tracking her by sound and the faint disturbance in the air, Sunday Serenity judged Sunday Silence's position: five meters ahead and to the right, gradually picking up speed—
Not one to be left behind, Sunday Serenity pushed harder. The two ghosts ran, lost in the thrill, until a harsh, ragged panting from behind broke their focus. The footsteps were clumsy, desperate—someone was straining to keep up.
Cafe!?
Sweat stung her eyes, her body screaming at its limits, teetering on the edge of collapse.
Seeing this, Sunday Serenity slowed her pace and finally stopped. Manhattan Cafe stumbled forward, bracing her trembling legs, gulping down huge breaths of air.
So tired…
So fast…
This was beyond training. It was faster than a real race.
She'd given it her all, pushing herself to the brink just to avoid being completely left in the dust. Yet, the gap between her and the figure running ahead had only widened.
Just when she thought she was getting closer to her 'friend,' the chasm between them had suddenly yawned open tonight. It was a devastating blow for Cafe, who had been training so earnestly.
Her already exhausted face grew even more somber.
"Again…" she managed, swallowing hard, the metallic taste of blood spreading in her mouth. "Let me… catch my breath… then again."
She refused to accept it.
Sunday Serenity had started out with the simple intention of helping Cafe train, of running alongside her. But then, a sudden feverish impulse had wiped everything else from her mind.
A real mistake…
"Are you okay?" Sunday Serenity asked, her voice low.
"I can… still run." Cafe wiped the sweat from her eyes and nodded.
Sunday Serenity understood that stubborn refusal to yield.
No matter how hard you tried, some people seemed impossible to catch.
Their speed, their form, their instinct—it was like a masterpiece, naturally perfect.
And here was Cafe, challenging not even Sunday Silence, but another who had also failed to surpass her.
"Let's run again," Sunday Silence's voice whispered by her ear.
Nodding, Sunday Serenity walked slowly in a circle, letting her body recover.
Tired? Yes, she felt it too.
After that sprint, her limbs and torso felt shackled with heavy weights, each movement a burden.
"I get tired too…"
It felt strange to admit.
"Ghosts need energy to act," Sunday Silence explained. "Especially running. It consumes a tremendous amount. Just like humans and Uma Musume need food, ghosts need to avoid the sun and replenish their spark."
They couldn't run forever like perpetual motion machines. Every extra meter increased the drain, making the body heavier and heavier until even standing became impossible.
It was only because it was night, with the starlight weaving a thin, silvery veil over Sunday Serenity, constantly nourishing her damaged soul, that she was still upright. Otherwise, those frantic laps around the training field would have left her just like Cafe—legs numb, collapsed on the grass.
Entropy increases, energy is conserved.
Cafe followed silently behind, slowly steadying her breathing.
A few minutes later, once Cafe had recovered somewhat, Sunday Serenity dropped into a starting stance again.
This time, it was a normal training run.
After a few laps accompanying Cafe around the field, the younger Uma Musume finally exhausted her strength, sinking onto the grass and breathing laboriously.
For her, it was the first time her 'friend' had felt so impossibly far away.
Her fists clenched slightly, her eyes dimmed.
Once she got up, she had nothing left to give.
Shaking her head helplessly, Cafe said, "That's… enough for today. Tomorrow… I'll need your help again…"
Even though her tone was as flat as ever, both ghosts detected the deep disappointment lurking beneath.
With a nod to Sunday Serenity, the young girl walked away silently.
"Cafe…" Sunday Silence's mood was heavy.
"'What do we do? Apologize?'"
It was their fault, after all, for leaving her behind like that.
"'An apology would only hurt her more.'"
No one wants an apology from the victor. It feels like a mockery of the very idea of victory.
"'I want her to catch up, but it won't happen overnight…'" She trailed off into silence.
"Maybe what she needs isn't an apology, but encouragement," Sunday Serenity offered.
"We'll get her a little gift tomorrow. It's not something you've ever done before, is it?"
--+--
And so, back to the present, Sunday Serenity was facing a very human, very practical problem.
Ghosts don't need sleep. They don't need daily necessities. Even Sunday Serenity, with her half-corporeal form that could be easily spotted, could just retreat into that mysterious space of blue and purple.
Essentially, they operated completely outside the human monetary system. They had no need for income or expenses.
Which led to a terrifying problem when it came to buying a gift.
They were broke!
"You know, humans really do need this stuff," Sunday Serenity mused. "Cafe was complaining once about accidentally walking into a really expensive restaurant and spending half her monthly allowance. She was upset about it for ages."
"Yeah, it happens. A place looks deceptively simple from the outside, then you check the menu and the prices make your eyes pop. Too awkward to just walk out, though," Sunday Silence agreed.
Even if people called her 'that slightly creepy, strange girl,' Manhattan Cafe wasn't so different from any other young girl.
She got shy. She felt embarrassed. She could get angry.
And surely, she'd be happy to receive a present.
"Ugh, to be tripped up by something as petty as money," Sunday Serenity groaned, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the window.
"Whoa—! So cool!"
Just as Sunday Serenity was hitting a wall, an excited voice chirped from behind.
Turning, she saw a girl in a yellow shirt, a black leather jacket, and greyish-black jeans. She had a cute, carefree mop of short brown hair, gold earrings, her right eye hidden by her bangs, while her visible left eye sparkled as it looked Sunday Serenity up and down.
"So cool!" she repeated.
It was like flipping a switch. Sunday Serenity slid her hands into her pockets, gave her cape a slight shake, and said in a deep, measured tone, "Young lady, are you addressing me?"
"Yep! I spotted this outfit from way over there. It's super~ cool!"
"Your appreciation is noted. However, this attire isn't something one can simply purchase. It is my signature look."
"I see!" The girl's eyes darted to Sunday Serenity's ears and tail. "So it's your racewear! Wow! The designer is amazing! It fits you perfectly!"
She clutched the sides of her head in admiration.
"Ah, I almost forgot! I'm Vodka, a student at Tracen Academy. And you are?"
"My name is…" Sunday Serenity began, but then a thought struck her. She raised a finger to her lips, adopting a mysteriously aloof air. "…a secret, for now."
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.