What does pressure feel like?
Everyone has their own answer.
Sometimes it's the moment a no-nonsense top-laner locks in Jayce and you realize the hammer is about to land on your head.
Sometimes it's when you, a once-in-a-generation prodigy, step onto the biggest stage—only to see "bananas for life" Faker waiting on the other side.
Sometimes it's a rookie horse girl standing on the starting line of her very first debut race, turning her head—and finding Rudolf the Symbol right beside her.
In short: instant tears.
But for Wuyou, pressure had a far simpler definition now.
No fancy metaphors required.
When a tall, athletic horse girl—well over two meters—launches herself at you with full-body enthusiasm…
That is the purest form of pressure.
Wuyou quickly shifted sideways, dodging Chiharu's flying tackle by a hair.
"Quit messing around," he said with a laugh. "You'll flatten me."
He meant it as a joke.
Unfortunately, to a girl, anything that even sounds like it's talking about weight is a landmine.
How serious a landmine?
Let's put it this way—at Tracen Academy, nobody's health forms list a horse girl's weight at all.
Chiharu huffed, completely unamused, and lunged again, reaching for his sleeve.
"Yuu! Get over here!"
"Back off!"
"Come—here—!"
"Nope!"
And just like that, the two of them were chasing each other around the suite, lighthearted and noisy, like kids on a class trip.
Luckily, the room was spacious enough to survive their chaos.
Wuyou might not be able to see, but he moved with uncanny agility—like a slick catfish in water—always slipping out through the narrowest gaps between Chiharu's hands.
Before long, Chiharu realized this wasn't working.
So she switched tactics.
A little stumble here, a dramatic wobble there—small "accidents" designed to bait him into stopping.
Wuyou could only shake his head in exasperation.
Finally, sensing her frustration nearing critical mass, he deliberately left an opening.
He paused.
Chiharu's eyes lit up. She leaned forward, planted her feet, and sprang—
Thump.
The world went quiet for a beat.
Chiharu pinned him neatly to the floor, triumphant, her arms braced above him. Her long hair slid down like a curtain, framing his face in a close, inescapable circle.
"Got you," she said, grinning, chin lifted in victory. "I win."
"Alright, alright," Wuyou chuckled. "You win. Just—easy. This is the top floor, you know."
In places like this, the top floor was usually reserved for VIPs. That "free trip" voucher definitely wasn't meant for rooms like these—someone had clearly pulled strings.
Chiharu only laughed.
"Relax. I checked on the way in—this whole floor is basically empty. It's just us."
Wuyou sighed in surrender. There was no escaping until she'd gotten what she wanted.
And honestly…
Even though she was bigger than him by a lot, it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it felt strangely… safe.
That thought made his ears warm.
Chiharu, hovering above him, suddenly went still as well—as if she'd only just realized how close they were.
The room had gone quiet enough that even breathing felt loud.
"W-wait…" she muttered, her confidence dissolving into flustered embarrassment. "This… this position…"
Then she jolted upright like a startled foal, scrambling off him in one swift, clumsy motion. She turned away, face burning, and fussed with her coat like it was the most important task in the world.
"Th-that was just strategy!" she declared, loud and firm. "Strategy!"
Wuyou sat up and shrugged, choosing not to tease.
Because if he did…
He had a strong feeling he'd be pinned again—this time without any mercy.
…
After a short break, Wuyou stood quietly on the balcony.
The view outside was supposed to be stunning.
He couldn't see any of it.
For a moment, a familiar trace of regret surfaced—soft, fleeting, like a shadow passing over sunlight.
Then warmth pressed into his back.
Chiharu wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder while looking out at the scenery.
"It's so comfortable here," she murmured. "When training gets exhausting… we should come vacation like this all the time."
This place wasn't cheap.
But Wuyou wasn't exactly broke—and once Chiharu started winning major races, prize money would be absurd.
Still, he couldn't resist joking.
"If we come here all the time, I'd have to sell myself to afford it."
Chiharu's eyes lit up instantly. She straightened, struck a proud pose, and spoke with playful bravado.
"Easy! When I become a top horse girl and start winning big, I'll be the one who spoils you. I'll bring you to luxury hotels, hot springs, and feasts every day. How about that?"
She leaned in closer, smiling mischievously.
"And you'll have to be good, Yuu~"
It sounded like pure teasing, but the way her arms tightened around him made it feel a little too sincere.
Even though she knew he couldn't see, she still instinctively avoided letting him turn his head—like she was hiding an expression she didn't want anyone to catch.
Sometimes the truest feelings are the ones you slip into a joke.
Wuyou laughed, then paused, as if genuinely considering it.
"So I'd be living off you?"
He nodded solemnly—far too solemnly.
"But… being spoiled doesn't sound that bad."
"Lady Chiharu is really that generous," he added, voice warm with amusement. "Should I thank you in advance?"
Chiharu opened her mouth to fire back—
And then both of them heard it.
Laughter in the hallway—bright, lively, and unmistakably plural. Several voices, chatting and fooling around, drawing closer.
Wuyou and Chiharu exchanged a curious look.
They tiptoed to the door and quietly slid it open a crack.
And then—
They locked eyes with the group about to head into the room next door.
The seven Mejiro sisters.
A perfectly timed, perfectly catastrophic face-to-face.
....
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