Fujiwara Chiya had long since lost count of how many times he had gone out with everyone.
Almost all of his free time was packed full. After work, he would go out to eat with his uma musume, or simply chat and wander around with them.
Once he returned to his dorm, Hayakawa Tazuna and Akikawa Yayoi would come over next, watching movies, playing games. Sometimes, Tazuna would even sneak into his room and fall asleep beside him.
None of it was work.
Chiya did not need to strain himself over it either.
Even so, his own time kept shrinking, squeezed thinner and thinner until perhaps the only time he was truly alone was inside his dreams.
Constant interaction naturally improved a person's communication skills. Compared to before, Fujiwara Chiya had become far smoother with people.
But that same improvement also made him unconsciously read into others' thoughts and worry about their feelings.
Before he knew it, talking to people had become exhausting.
As the number of people around him grew, Chiya kept adjusting the way he treated them. Once upon a time, he had not been like this at all.
He had not liked joining crowds.
He had not liked places with too many people.
He had not liked standing in the spotlight.
Yet after two turbulent, brilliant years, Fujiwara Chiya had undergone a complete transformation.
If the him from two years ago saw the him of today, he probably would not even recognize himself.
These were good changes.
In the eyes of others, he was becoming more and more perfect.
But at the same time, those changes had quietly added weight to Chiya's shoulders. Everyone expected him to become better and better. Even Fujiwara Chiya himself expected the same.
Now, there were many labels stuck to his name.
"Senior Trainer."
"The Empress's Scepter."
"Head of Overseas Expeditions."
Some people even called him the "Uma Musume Killer."
Those labels forced Fujiwara Chiya to maintain a proper image at every moment. In front of his uma musume. In front of his colleagues. In front of his superiors.
He had to act in a way that matched his position.
But if all those labels were stripped away, if he returned to who he really was, the answer was simple.
He was not some senior trainer.
He was not the Empress's Scepter.
He was only himself.
Fujiwara Chiya.
A person who did not carry some grand, earth-shaking dream in his heart. A person with no towering ambition to change the world. A person who had never wanted to become famous and live a life others could never reach.
He simply liked uma musume.
He wanted to become a trainer.
Sure, he had once fantasized about getting everything in one bite, about suddenly rising to the top without effort.
But fantasies were fantasies.
Fujiwara Chiya had never taken them seriously.
He still preferred working steadily, one step at a time. He still liked joking around with friends once in a while, saying ridiculous things that made no sense.
But fate had a twisted sense of humour.
Opportunities always arrived without warning.
In just two short years, Fujiwara Chiya had become famous. He had reached heights he had never once imagined.
And in those same two years, he had done more than most people would do in five, or even ten.
He was so busy.
There were too many things to finish.
Fujiwara Chiya wanted to stop walking.
He wanted to quiet down.
But the times kept pushing him forward, and by now, it no longer had anything to do with what he personally wanted.
Agnes Tachyon had said he was different from others, and Fujiwara Chiya had accepted his own identity.
But deep down, he still felt he was only an ordinary person who had become a trainer because he liked uma musume.
An ordinary person people often called stubborn, dense, and a little stupid.
Sometimes, Fujiwara Chiya wanted the life pushing him forward to pause.
Even if only for a moment.
Just like today.
On the streets of Osaka, Shirayuki bought a stick of cotton candy. The two of them sat on a park bench.
Training had only just ended, and her feet carried a stuffy heat. Shirayuki placed her legs across Fujiwara Chiya's lap. He held her ankle, pressed both sides of her small leather shoe, then gently rocked it left and right before easing it off. After that, he slipped off her white cotton sock, now slightly dirtied from wear.
For the first time in a long while, time came to a halt.
Shirayuki's toes swayed lightly, like beautiful butterflies fluttering their wings. Her cute little foot slowly stretched out.
Chiya took out a handkerchief and wiped away the sweat and dirt between her toes. Feeling that comfortable friction, both of them let out a soft breath at the same time.
So ticklish…
Her toes curled, then relaxed, lightly catching Fujiwara Chiya's fingers between them.
The man looked at Shirayuki beside him.
Her eyes, clear as morning dew, shimmered with a captivating light. Yet the way she ate her cotton candy was slow and elegant, almost like a dance.
Without him even realizing it, Fujiwara Chiya no longer needed to make Shirayuki deliberately act that way.
Those movements had already become instinct.
They had become part of Shirayuki herself.
The soul that Fujiwara Chiya had placed within Shirayuki's body had completely become a girl.
His heartbeat grew louder and louder.
It was not tension.
It was ease.
It was joy.
Only in front of Shirayuki could Fujiwara Chiya remove every label stuck to him.
He was not a trainer.
He was not the Empress's Scepter.
He was not an uma musume.
He was simply Fujiwara Chiya.
And Fujiwara Shirayuki.
After all the filters were stripped away, this was his truest self.
"I'll never be able to stop walking, will I?"
Fujiwara Chiya asked himself.
Once, he had said something to Nase Fumino.
Uma musume had finish lines.
Trainers did not.
That meant even after his uma musume reached their finish lines, Fujiwara Chiya would still have to keep moving forward.
His path and the path of an uma musume were different.
One day, they would have to part.
But Shirayuki was different.
She was a trainer.
And she was also an uma musume.
She would stay beside Fujiwara Chiya, from the moment she was born until the day she died.
His fingers brushed across Shirayuki's cheek. His fingertips glided over her delicate skin. Her flawless, snow-white face carried a faint blush.
The heat in her blood had almost ripened Shirayuki completely.
Her long, slender legs traced the shape of the man's body. Both of them longed for the mingling of souls.
Truly touching each other felt far more intense than standing in front of a mirror.
A long time ago, Shirayuki had made her decision.
She would become an uma musume.
And now, she had one more thing to add.
She was Chiya's uma musume.
She would stay beside him.
She would keep running with him.
Until the two of them crossed the finish line together.
After putting her socks back on, Shirayuki slipped her toes into her shoes.
The two of them went to the inn.
With her cheeks slightly red, Shirayuki entered the room. No one disturbed them. Everything went so smoothly it almost felt unreal.
Her heart pounded nonstop.
In the truest sense, from body to soul, Shirayuki was about to become a complete girl.
As one part of Chiya.
As the person who knew his truest self.
She would live on together with him.
Shirayuki shed her clothes and looked at the man's body.
The desire between two halves of the same soul had long since revealed itself.
Slowly, Shirayuki climbed onto the bed. In her beautiful blue eyes, Chiya's figure was reflected clearly.
Amid the roaring current of this era, only each other's embrace could make the world stand still.
She touched the softness of the man's chest and gently nipped at his ear.
And then, she felt it.
The most unfamiliar, most overwhelming, and happiest ache she had ever known since the day she was born.