Ignoring the baffling duo of an old-tir and a youngster who had sohow gotten into a squabble, the folks from Kasamatsu Tracen also took this mont to offer their heartfelt congratulations to Dream Weaver.
"Congratulations."
Oguri Roman smiled warmly as she clapped her hands. Before Dream Weaver could even respond, another person picked up the baton and started applauding.
"Congratulations."
"Congratulations."
"Congratulations."
First Artisan Bell, then Nishimoto Makusa and Kobayashi Kaze. After Gold Ship finished clapping, the two standing behind them—Akasaka Rin and Tagami Kan—also joined in with applause and congratulations.
"Thank—"
"As if I'd say that!"
Dream Weaver first feigned a smile to throw everyone off, then seized the mont when Gold Ship let her guard down to deliver a swift chop to her round head.
"Gwah—!"
"Why hit ? So many others did the sa thing!"
Gold Ship clutched her head and complained, but Dream Weaver only smirked coldly, completely unmoved by her excuses.
Knowing this crowd as well as she did, Dream Weaver was certain none of them had a clue what "Neon Genesis Evangelion" was—it had to be Gold Ship's doing, egging them on. Part of her wondered if she should just be grateful they hadn't surrounded her right there in the spectator stands.
"Weren't you the one always going on about Gundam this and Gundam that? At least be consistent!"
"They're all super robots—what's the difference!"
"Never mind whether Unit-01 even counts as a robot, Gundam isn't exactly 'super,' now is it!"
"What about Moonlight Butterfly and G Gundam, then!"
"Coming from soone who's always quoting Char Aznable—that's rich!"
And just like that, the number of bickering pairs at the scene grew to three, with Dream Weaver and Gold Ship's exchange being the most incomprehensible of all. The rest could only stare at them in confusion.
Only Tagami Kan stroked his chin thoughtfully, as if sensing there was a story here. He raised his cara and snapped a photo of the two.
anwhile, Orfevre, who had already acknowledged the crowd's cheers, quietly slipped back into the player's tunnel, leaving the lively scene behind.
Aside from Dream Weaver, who was still outside joking around with her friends, the other Uma Musu had long since left through the tunnel, overwheld by the pressure of the race. So, at this mont, Orfevre was the only one there.
Her footsteps echoed hollowly against the cold, hard floor of the enclosed passage. Her glassy eyes seed dull in the indoor light, and even her signature golden hair looked sowhat faded without the sun.
Defeat—it was a word that felt distant to Orfevre.
She'd experienced it often enough back when she was young, during those countless training sessions with sparring partners. But as she grew older and her body developed, she hadn't tasted defeat in a long ti.
Especially in today's race—she'd pushed herself to the limit, even unleashing the power of her "Zone" in the final stretch, yet she'd still lost to Dream Weaver.
Did it hurt?
Not really. Though she carried the expectations of many, for Orfevre, the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe was the real goal. The Satsuki Sho was just one race, and losing to soone like Dream Weaver didn't leave her feeling particularly down.
But for so reason, ever since the race ended, a heavy weight had settled in her chest, making it hard to breathe.
Even just walking felt like gasping for air after an all-out sprint.
Orfevre instinctively opened her mouth to breathe, but caught herself and closed it again. Such a thing was unbefitting of a champion.
She'd already tarnished her crown with defeat—she wouldn't further disgrace it with such undignified breathing.
She leaned against a cold wall, hoping its chill would soothe her heavy heart and rising body temperature.
With no one else in the tunnel and her footsteps now still, the only sound was the pounding of her own heart.
Thump, thump. It was as if her heart was trying to tell her sothing. After listening in silence for a while, Orfevre finally understood what it was saying.
'You're unwilling.'
That was it. Orfevre finally realized where this heaviness in her chest was coming from.
It was the frustration of defeat raging inside her, roaring and venting its displeasure.
She'd laughed at the local Uma Musu's wild dreams in front of reporters. Before the race, she'd confronted Dream Weaver and dismissed her words. During the race, she'd proudly spoken down to her as a superior, expressing her admiration. And when she activated her Zone, she'd confidently declared victory.
With all that buildup, she'd still lost.
"How pathetic... Orfevre."
She rested her forehead against the cold wall and whispered to herself.
For so reason, in that mont, she thought back to her forr self—before her talent had been recognized, before she'd endured all those grueling training sessions.
Before her body had fully developed, Orfevre didn't have the dazzling golden hair she had now; instead, it was a brown so deep it was almost red.
Back then, she was far from soone who could elevate the Gold Family's glory—she'd even been timid around outsiders, only showing glimpses of her current self when she was with Stay Gold and the others.
The difference between her inside and outside selves ca down to love.
As a child, Orfevre could feel the love from her family, which was why she felt free to be herself around them.
But from the outside world, she sensed no such affection, so she beca cold and distant.
Then, from the day her talent was discovered, the way everyone looked at her changed.
First ca shock, then elation, and finally—after witnessing her terrifying rate of improvent—their eyes filled with hope and expectation, and never left her.
She interpreted that as love.
And as an Uma Musu entrusted with others' love, she felt she had to strive to et those expectations.
Over ti, under everyone's admiring and hopeful gazes, Orfevre gradually molded herself into the invincible champion they envisioned.
She was Japan's hope, the pride of a prestigious family, the one who would break the Arc curse and raise the Gold Family's na to the top of the world—Orfevre.
She was ant to be that dazzling, proud, and noble champion.
That was the Orfevre everyone expected.
Right now, huddled against this cold wall, she was just a ghost from the past.
But once she stepped out of here, she would beco the Orfevre everyone wanted her to be.
-- --
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.
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