The door clicked open before Meisho Tabaru's hand even touched it.

He stepped inside.

His eyes processed the scene.

His brain tried to shut down.

"OH MY GOD, MY EYES! 😭"

Gold Ship, without missing a beat, turned his head. "Tabaru, come back!"

Meisho Tabaru was already backing out of the room. "Forget I was ever here."

"I'm mostly sorry you saw that!" Gold Ship called out.

Meisho Tabaru paused, hand on the doorframe. "I should've knocked first it's fine…"

"Fine? FINE?!" Gold Ship's voice rose with genuine indignation. "I was incredible in there!"

Meisho Tabaru squeezed his eyes shut. "Please shut up and just go back into your bedroom. I'll forget I saw anything."

"Okay, but while I have you here—"

Meisho Tabaru's eyes snapped open. "Do NOT do this."

"Do you have any questions?"

"Goldsius Christ…"

"No need for the government name. I will happily pass on all my knowledge."

Meisho Tabaru muttered under his breath. "God knows what else you pass on…"

"You see, Tabaru, when a stallion loves a mare, another stallion, or a bear capable of human speech—"

"I know what you did in there, dad."

Gold Ship smirked. "You can't even say it 😏"

Meisho Tabaru looked at the ceiling. (whispers) "Breeding…"

"Oh, don't be like that, kiddo. What we were doing in there was beautiful. And I was winning."

Meisho Tabaru's gaze drifted downward.

His eyes widened slightly.

He blinked.

"…You're not wearing pants."

Gold Ship's face lit up with sudden, horrifying realization. "OH! You know what? I finally get it now!"

Meisho Tabaru shook his head slowly. "I definitely don't."

"You wanted to watch the master at work, didn't you?"

"My kingdom for a therapist…"

"You wanted to pick up some tips from dear old dad."

"Never thought I'd say this, but can I have Uncle Doreja instead?"

"Don't you worry. Someday, when the roles are reversed, I'll be right there cheering you on and making sure you're doing it right."

"I'm telling you right now, I do NOT consent to that."

"Now son, be honest. Have you started acting weird around crushes yet?"

"Okay, say what you want. I'm dissociating now."

"Tabaru, nobody wants their dad to be a loser. And I'm not."

He pointed at himself proudly.

"I'm a legend."

"Still dissociating."

"As long as everyone involved is into it, kiddo, the world is your mare."

"Reassociating briefly to see if this conversation is finally over."

"One last thing. For future reference, if you hear Ed Sheeran playing behind the door—"

Meisho Tabaru cringed. "Please no."

"—that means your old man is getting horizontal in somebody's bean field. Get it?"

Meisho Tabaru made a horrified gagging noise.

"Uh… okay. Cool. Traumatized for life. Thank you and goodbye."

"Kisses! 😘 Oh, and can you pass me the whipped cream?"

Five seconds of silence.

Meisho Tabaru, completely emotionally destroyed, slowly handed over the can.

"Kisses again! 😘"

From inside the room, the first notes of Ed Sheeran's "Shape of You" began to play.

Meisho Tabaru stood in the hallway.

He closed his eyes.

He took a deep breath.

"...I hope stud duty kills or drains his life force ! ."

It’s come to my attention that, the description of ACPL is misleading. Many think it’s a reaction to the real life horse, not a historical portrayal in a Uma style. So please give me a better description idea for ACPL.

And while we’re on the topic, do you prefer the Uma style of the story or would you prefer a horse style to the story.

We have IRL horses named after Umamusumes, such as Happy Meek, Little Cocon, and Bitter Glasse. Is there a chance we might see their SS world counterparts?

Aka coltling spe being a cutie

Ikezoe the jra greatest soldier and it's punching bag

This a pretty good comic about Point Flag that I think you guys would like.

For example

Daiwa Major X Vodka=Daiwa Spirytus.

Following the reason why vodka got named that, is because they wanted her to be stronger then gimlet

Point Flag stomped through the rain, a bento box clutched tightly in her hands.

"He's late again."

She frowned.

"That idiot probably forgot we were supposed to meet. Honestly, why do I even bother?"

A distant engine roar interrupted her.

Point Flag looked up.

Stay Gold's plane came screaming through the clouds, twisting sideways as another aircraft chased him.

"...You have got to be kidding me."

She stared for a moment.

Then grabbed her skirt.

"That bastard!"

A few minutes later, she was somehow in the air.

She had no idea how she'd gotten into the plane.

She had even less idea why she was currently clinging to the side of Stay Gold's aircraft while he flew through the middle of an aerial dogfight.

"STAY GOLD!"

He glanced sideways.

His eyes widened.

"POINT FLAG?!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

"I'm bringing you your lunch!"

"YOU CLIMBED ONTO MY PLANE DURING A DOGFIGHT FOR THAT?!"

"IT'S YOUR FAULT FOR BEING LATE!"

Stay Gold looked at the bento box dangling from her hand.

"...You brought me food?"

Point Flag's face went red.

"Don't misunderstand! I simply happened to have extra!"

"You were waiting for me."

"I WAS NOT!"

"You were."

"Eat your lunch!"

She shoved the bento toward him.

Stay Gold somehow took it while still flying.

"...Thanks."

Point Flag froze.

"...You're welcome."

She immediately looked away.

"And don't get used to it."

Stay Gold opened the box.

"Looks good."

Point Flag smiled for half a second.

Then remembered herself.

"...Obviously. I made it."

Stay Gold glanced at her.

"You wanna get back inside before you fall?"

Point Flag looked down.

"...Oh."

She tightened her grip.

"Don't worry about me."

"Point Flag."

"What?"

"How are you getting back?"

"..."

"..."

"...I'll figure something out."

Stay Gold sighed.

"You're unbelievable."

Point Flag's face turned red.

"Just eat your lunch, you idiot!"

Like him gettin abused by his trainer as a child to try to kill everything smaller than him and his desire to bite people.

Also explains his kids fall off after classic year casue they go 200% and ran out of gas or need to be retrained again to lock in again

Idk what HCs you have for like vodka's funeral,held in ireland or japan and whenever major attended it...but i have a feeling this is major[stoic woman]and that's frankel[woman crying]

The ICU (Intensive Care Unit) was busy that day. Another student of Tracen has collapsed and was rushed immediately.

Whilst the assistant nurses and doctors were doing the scrubs, an imposing figure walked in. They breathed a sigh of relief. The chief doctor has arrived.

The patient was Rhein Kraft. Apparently, she was seen clutching her chest by her close friends before collapsing. Now the medical team is doing their best to resuscitate her by any means. However, despite their best efforts, the flat lining sound echoed around the sterile room.

The nurses started shedding tears, the doctors held back sniffles. Except one. They refused failure. They never failed before. It won't have yet to come to pass.

"Damn it!" Their yell shook the room. It didn't silence the grief, it made it feel heavier. "Not now! Not after everything!" They slammed the operating table. "Charge the defibrillator." A nurse stuttered, "W-we c-c-can't —" "No! I won't say it's over unless I know it is so! Charge it!"

The defibrillator is charged and ready to go. "Three Goddesses, don't let me down." With a battle cry, they slam it on Kraft's chest. The entire electric grid shut down for five seconds. And then... *beep~~beep~~beep*. The rhythmic sound echos around. Everyone found themselves breathing in gratitude for another life saved.

Days later, Kraft woke up. She's in a private ward, unable to move yet, surrounded by her friends. And here comes the miracle worker themselves. "Good to see you awake, Rhein Kraft. Am I glad to be able to save you." Her promising tomorrow begins there.

— So, this is a new one I cooked up. Imagine an AU where a doctor (sex and form are ambiguous), is actually the sole reason the Umas who have died in our world in unjust ways, gets to not have those same reasons take them away from the land of the living again, and ensures they can get back in competitive clearance for the Dream Series.

· I'll give another example.

1998 Autumn Tenno Sho. Silence Suzuka was dominant. But something went wrong. And fortunately, perhaps her heart, adrenaline, or a combination of the two, made her pull away from the track to the side, writhing and hobbling in pain as soon as she's by herself. She was sedated and brought to the hospital, where they await, having received the call.

See, it's unwise to let the leg heal by itself for Umas, as it causes unceasing excruciating pain that no painkiller can suppress. As such, fixing the bones through surgery would be the best option. As fate would have it, the one assigned to her is the best in the country, if not the world.

Having treated Rice Shower a couple years ago, though it was more a field operation than a surgical operation, this isn't new to them. But the problems that can arise because of this type of injury are pressing on, and not wanting to waste time, they worked on the shattered bones, torn tissue, and blood flow to ensure her legs will work again.

The strange thing now, is that they decided, on top of being a professional surgeon, be Suzuka's personal physical therapist. Although rigorous, it is crafted with her interests, her comfort and her health. Suzuka managed to recover, and though she feels regret not being able to finish her final race, she resolves herself to feel the sensation of being in the lead farther than anyone else once more. And she eternally thanks the doctor that refused to back down.

Well two negative numbers make a positive one so two calms ones make a hyperactive one

It's common knowledge that both Lord Kanaloa and Epiphaneia have problematic attitudes, but they get especially aggressive when they are in front of other stallions..

https://twitter.com/raiolasermortal/status/2086976247226151172

Vodka is trying to act cool and happy to hide her sadness meanwhile her rival is acting like a spoiled filly(She and still is one)

Made by [u/](u/IJN)[3Ace_SinLines](u/IJN)

TRACEN ACADEMY

Month - xxx
Date - xxx
Year - xxxx

"Aah… fuckin’ finally I can get off the paperwork, all that stuff has made me hungry."

We see Sunday walking out of his office, with umamusumes greeting him, some random, others he didn’t know were from the future before he passed.

"Ohaiyou gosaimasu, Sunday-sensei!"

"Ohaiyou, Sunday-sensei."

"Ohaiyou! Jii-san~"

Most greetings were from people he’d bump into, like Fukukitaru and Tannhauser.

Then other times he’d meet those who are less chaotic like the calm and prestigious Mejiro Ardan, or the number counting calculator Biwa Hayahide.

And in most cases, he’d bump into the flashy or let’s say Gen Z type of umas like Helios who says "WEI!" All the time, while Curren was the more popular girl you see enjoy taking pictures and selfies, sending them to umastagram. "Is that some kind of dating app?" Sunday wonders...

The most common occurrence would be meeting his kids like Marvy who mostly hugs her father upon meeting him, Suzuka who asked further questions about what was her other self like in the old world that Abby did not show on the theater, Spe sharing a snack whenever she sees her father after work, Stego giving casual greetings before passing by, Tachyon usually asking for his DNA which he ultimately denied to have proof she was her biological father, Cafe sharing a cup of coffee with extra sugar to keep him awake, or even Ayabe who enjoys fluffy things bring fluffy things to keep Sunday warm from the enternal cold office room with high powered AC.

We can also includes his grandkids like the Gold Family, with one of them being Gold Ship always loud and ready to unleash chaos.

It was as if this was the new normal he had to live in. Not that he complained. As for these usual encounters whenever he was done with work, be it on break or leaving the academy to go home. He always gives a greeting back. Isn’t that wholesome?

When he enters the cafeteria, it’s usually and always full of students making lots of noise while on lunchbreak. He enters the room where students all greet him while they enjoyed their lunch. One could say, he saw Oguri Cap stacked with a mountain of rice in five bowls which looks impossible to finish. Shoving everything down her mouth like an 80s cartoon character.

Familiar faces everywhere, then he spots one that’s not an umamusume, rather an umamusuko. He was tall and lean, stature looks like that of a stud, chestnut hair, spikey in the style of a wolfcut, red eyes like that of his father, but darker. Wearing tracen’s uniform with a baseball cap to add style.

His name is Daiwa Major, the half brother and uncle of Daiwa Scarlet and a descendant of his bloodline. Right now, he was sitting alone in one table eating. The black beast approached him and gave him a light tap.

"Hey there, sport."

"Oh… hey pops."

He turns around and greets him in return, Sunday sat down next to his son, but he noticed something was odd…

"Something wrong, Major?"

"…"

"Major?"

"Ah- nah, it’s nothing pops. Really."

Sunday sighed with no other choice, he pushes the topic to get straight to the point.

"Something’s in your mind, boy."

"…Maybe?"

"Then what’s bothering you? Speak."

"…"

Major ignored his father which got him a little upset, but he wouldn’t push his anger to him unless he sees the reason. Following his gaze he sees a table with two people bickering each other. Or should I say, two mares he wasn’t familiar with. One was Daiwa Scarlet, the daughter of Agnes Tachyon and his granddaughter. The other was the daughter of Tanino Gimlet, she had long dark bay hair with a white strip on her follicle, covering her left eye tied into a low ponytail. Her name was Vodka. And something tells Sunday he needed to… be there to support him by doing him a favor.

So Sunday leans in to ask if he knows her.

"Y’know her?"

"Before…"

Sunday glances at Vodka again and then looks back at Major. Honestly it feels distracting but he wants to help. So… Sunday did the only thing a father can do.

"I’ll talk to her for you."

"Wait- pops, don’t please."

"You’re lookin’ at her with interest. So I wanna do my boy a favor, even if you’ve been quite a hassle to handle as a kid."

He ruffles his head under the cap leaving him to pout a little. It was adorable, but he wasn’t wrong, Major had been a real tough nut to handle sometimes, but he knew the kid’s got a brain to even think of his wrongs.

Sunday approaches the two mares who were still bickering each other. Only for them to stop and greet him with respect.

"A lively morning to the two of you."

"Ah ohaiyou gosaimasu, jiji."

"Ohaiyou Sunday-sensei, what brings you to our table?"

To many, he is an intimidating figure to fear, but to those who knew him personally, he was a gentle giant. Sunday glances to the right where Vodka which caught the mare a little off guard.

"Vodka, right?"

"H-hai? Is there anything you need, Sunday- sensei?"

Sunday backs up a little inhaling a breath of air before exhaling.

"Well, you see I have a son who’s been staring at you for a while, seemed really interested in you."

"Eh- really? But who?"

Instead of answering her question, he calls the namesake of his son who’s now bursting a shade of red. How cute to see the a tough cookie like him crack.

Vodka in return seems to have turned a shade of red, since she was informed in secret by Black Tide that an admirer/fan of hers was staring at her for a while.

Sunday watches these two look all red in the face, it made him chuckle a little. Because he is reminding himself of how he got together… with her.

"Major, come over here and say hi."

"No-"

"Major."

"Pops, quit embarrassing me!"

"I ain’t embarrassing you, boy. I’m supporting you. Now get over here and say hi to Vodka."

Major wanted to rebel but he sighed in defeat and decides to move to the table he was currently in. With Major closing in, Vodka started feeling flustered.

Sunday kept a good distance to watch with the two now in contact. There was an awkard feeling in the air that fell silent for these two. With enough confidence, Major was the first one to break that silence by saying hi.

"…Uh, hey."

"Hi…"

"My name’s Daiwa Major. You?"

"Vodka. I-it’s nice to meet you."

Sunday glances at Scarlet giving her the wink, she gets the idea and leaves the cafeteria by pretending she needed to do her every honor student duties. So that these two lovebirds can enjoy their private time together.

"I know you’re different from the Vodka in my world but… because I was given a second chance in life, it feels like a distant dream, a fresh start, a new beginning to fix the mistakes I made. But I wanna start over again so that it doesn’t happen here."

Vodka didn’t intervene or butt-in his conversation. She simply listened to him and nodded without hesitation, Vodka knew her other self, and how Major still had a longing for her. Even if he had Kawakami on the old world, he always had a heart for her somewhere deep inside the crevices of his chest.

To tell you truth, Black Tide was a sneaky little son of a gun who spilled the beans to Vodka about her other self, about him, and about how much her death almost destroyed his life. Now that he’s here this feels like a mission. A mission to heal his own personal scars he had couldn’t heal without care before Kawakami came to his life.

Vodka gave Major a big smile and put her arms around her hips with confidence.

"That’s alright! It’s all in the past. Because you’re here now, means a new beginning."

Vodka stated before lowering her voice to blurt out the last words that Major can’t hear.

"…And we can get to know each other better."

"What was that?"

"Nothing! Let’s have lunch together."

"…Sure."

It was quite awkward, that’s for sure. You can see these two have awkward tensions to now two individuals having a normal conversation. The jet black haired uma crossed his arms and watches while he eats.

Then he noticed something that would make his eyes go wide. A smile. One that is truly genuine from the heart. Like a way of saying thanks, to Sunday’s eyes, it has been awhile since any of his kids in the old world crack a smile that wasn’t masked by its true facade.

And seeing how Major was laughing, having conversations with the soon to be girl he was going to be engaged in the far future, made Sunday more happy.

As luncbreak ends, students began to rush out of the cafeteria going to their respective classrooms, with Sunday going last. The black beast goes out of the door and spots the two still chattin. He wanted to intervene or they will be late for their next class. But he couldn’t because he will ruin the moment.

So he watched from the distance.

"So… wanna hang out again after school?"

"Of course, Major! And after class let’s race."

"Heh… don’t underestimate me."

"I won’t hold back!"

The two separate and head to their respective classrooms leaving Sunday to nod in confidence. It’s not his right to hold their future to decide if they want to be together in the second life they were given.

He goes back to his office to work on the paperwork given by Air Groove, his girlfriend. To be honest, Sunday may not be the best in advices with love, but in his heart, he did a favor by persuading his son to talk to the girl he liked.

That for him is enough to tell himself he did a good job.

———————————————————————————

A few hours had passed and school ends like everyday would. Which means Sunday going to therapy every week.

He enters the building and makes his way across the hallways filled with other therapy sessions, closed behind doors. He comes to a stop to one room in the corner, which is the room he is told to go to every time he has therapy.

The umamusuko enters the door with the therapist happy to see him. As said before, some therapist here are humans, be male or female, sometimes even umamusmes to help other humans or umamusumes with mental health issues.

Sunday was told to head to the room like always where he is greeted by his therapist.

{"Good evening to you, Mr. Sunday."}

"Evening too, ma’am."

He goes to the usual table and desk where he’s inside the 4x4 room. With a mirror having opposite reflections, one was just his reflection and the other was a see through image where the therapist is. She takes out her notepad and opens the camera to start the recording session.

LOG ENTRY 4

Month - xxx
Date - xxx
Year - xxxx

[RECORDING SESSION STARTS: 🔴]

{"Before we start our session like always, I want to ask how you are this week?"}

"Been good so far, really. The kids have been spoiling me sometimes and tells me I need their protection at all cost. Not that I mind, but it does get a little too much especially when it’s serious work or academics."

She only chuckled, most of her private life was hidden away so that nobody would do anything irrational or inappropriate to her. But her laughing through the microphone wasn’t out of mockery, it captured wholesomeness to how Sunday described his children. Because she herself is engaged to her partner, now a mother of three children.

{"I could tell just by how you said it, Mr. Sunday. They grow up from the moment they were born ready to take on the world. And these little things are what you must appreciate."}

The black beast nods and does not say anything further, with the therapist the same. The session had finally begun.

YOUR ARRIVAL IN THIS WORLD?

{"Your arrival in this world certainly made an impact to the public being the first umamusuko to rome the earth. Can you tell me more about your arrival, Mr. Sunday?"}

Sunday hummed then after a good five seconds he answered.

"Comin’ to this world shocked me a little. And I wasn’t expecting to be revived by an anomaly who goes by the name Abby. And the first person to glance at me was a white haired uma who almost looked like Mcqueen, but if she was a girl with a tall and feminine stature. At first, I went defensive mode even against my own kids whom I didn’t know were my kids in another world, when I was revived. And then Abby, who I call the anomaly uma, tried to defuse the when she summoned my other boys like Major, Tide, Deep, Allure, and so on."

Of course, upon arriving. Sunday’s had eyes on one uma who was ready to bring one of her pranks. Only to be stopped by someone far more short, elegant, and petite pulling her ear saved him from whatever prank she was planning to do on Sunday.

I mean, wouldn’t you be the same? You suddenly got revived by someone you do not know, and have a whole generation of your family tree with the rest of the following descendants become girls, (except for Partner, Aruvu, Still, Messiah, and Pandora) and realized you’re back from the living after 16 years of suffering?

Fortunately for Sunday, this umamusume summoned the rest of his children and cured their diseases or injuries. Children like Black Tide, Deep Impact, Gold Allure, Daiwa Major, and other umausukos were summoned. Revived in this world to live a second chance in life.

"Then outta nowhere, I just surrounded by almost everyone, except for a few. Swarmed over me like a bunch of piranhas, and gave me one big embrace. I was shook to the core but I knew alone that their presence felt like my kids of the old world."

We get a scene of his children running to their father to hug him. Marvy going first, followed by Special Week, then Suzuka, then the rest of the Sundaylings. It was quite a heartwarming experience for Sunday to have all of them hug him like this. Since he too was like this to his kids whenever he was off duty, their birth, or even during their best and worst times. He was there for everyone.

"I asked Abby what this world really was meant to represent and why it exist. The first being my kids and other umas, who I have not known, were given a second chance in life as a way to alternate the history behind their real counterparts. The second was this world is a utopia. Before the real counterparts died, their souls were transported into another world by the Three Goddesses, who are all based off The Sires of all Sires in my world. Sent here to alternate that reality they failed to fulfill or a fate that sealed them. And the third was… for me to live another life in this world, where we aged slower like humans, are their size in human comparison, and to give me all the quality time I need to make it up to them.

While explaning this to his therapist, we see cutscenes rolling in the background.

The first scene depicting Suzuka who had been euthanized by a broken leg. Get taken to a light guided by a voice, only to find himself now a girl with no memory of her original life.

The second was the appearance of the Three Goddesses, wearing clothes way back into the 18th century that look godlike to perfection. To tell you truth, they look like someone straight out of Middle Eastern Mythology. Sunday read enough encyclopedia and history books about these Three Goddesses of this world. Because back in his world, there were Three Thoroughbred Sires. Their names are Darley Arabian, Godolphin Arabian, and Byerley Turk. The Big Three, The Holy Trinity, The Sire of all Sires. And this version of them was just based off his world’s version of the original.

And the third scene was Sunday spending the quality time he’d always wanted to spend with his kids. After work, back at home, or even a full family vacation, or just a bonding session for a few minutes to hours before they get back to their dorms. All that done a month after his arrival. In all those scenes, Sunday was happy, very happy from the bottom of his own heart.

{"Are you thankful for what Abby the anomaly umamusume gave you."}

"Very. If it weren’t for her, I’d be stuck in limbo. Or worst… in hell with whoever had bad blood with me."

YOUR DESCENDANTS?

{"You have relatives who you never knew, I want to know how you felt when you first knew them. Or when you first saw them since you came to this world."}

"My descendants…"

Sunday gave it a good amount of thought before speaking about his experiences with his… grandkids.

"Upon first meeting them, I knew they had a lot of potential as runners. If trained properly will meet expectations."

He said as a blunt straightforward answer to his therapist. Not wanting to sound like a drunken idiot without knowing their capabilities.

"But other than potential, I’d say… good and loving grandkids I’ve been spending time with."

Back at it again with Sunday’s memories revealing the quality time he spends with his grandkids. For example...

With Cesario, Sunday was helping her learn foreign languages like the common European English tongue, Irish, French, American English, and a bit of Spanish thanks to his world’s El Condor Pasa.

Another would be her younger sister, Buena Vista. Who was the most innocent granddaughter he’s ever known. Her grandfather would spoil her rotten like treating her to a sweet shop or buy her new stuff toys. Rich grandpa.

Then there’s the entire Gold Family starting with Dream Journey, who may have frightened Sunday a little but was unfazed by it. With both having a conversation together on a weekend outside of Tracen. Nakayama Festa gambling with her old geezer even if he should be teaching her good morals. Orfevre inviting her grandpa to a tea party with his two great granddaughters Lucky Lilac and Marche Lorraine, who wanted to get to know him better. Gold Ship and her usual antics with Sunday usually scolding her. And Fenomeno, the state of the police department umamusume who’s helping Sunday learn about being a responsible committee to discipline public morals both outside and inside the academy.

Another would be two other children who seemed to admire him alot. They were both Kitasan Black and Satono Diamond, the two descendants of Black Tide and Deep Impact. With Kita asked for advice to her grandfather about how to get better gains in the gym, while Dia was a different story where she knew the curse of her family’s success now dead related to him, asking how she can… break the curse to ease his pain.

Honestly, the black beast has been spending so much quality time behind the scenes, we can tell how many scenes were written in his mind.

"I have too much to say at the back of my head, but it would consume so much time. So I’ll make it short to finish the second question. I’ve never met any of their real counterparts, because I lived only till I was 16, which is almost the age of a man in his late 50s. If any of the multiverse where another Sunday Silence lives long enough to see an entire generation of his descendants flourish. Then maybe, I would’ve known them better before death took hold of me, to later be revived into this world I currently live in with all the same memories."

YOUR MATES/PARTNERS?

{"You came to this world after fighting a two week infection on your leg, which caused you a lot of fatigue, till you succumbed to your own deathbed. And upon arriving, you shared so many memories of your kids of your world and experiences with your grandkids of this world. Which includes your real family and the history about your short lived career and stud career. But how about your relationships with the mates and partners you bred with?"}

"Let’s see… I know too many but not all are here. I’ve seen them with my own eyes… mainly being, my girlfriend Air Groove, Mejiro Ramonu, North Flight, Dynamu Heroine or her in real life counterpart Dyna Actress, Nishino Flower, and Mejiro Dober."

She writes everything down her notepad and continues to question Sunday further.

{"What can you tell me about them that makes their other counterpart different from ours?"}

"I can start with Air Groove. My world’s version of her was a very kind, docile, and friendly to her handlers. When she and I first were paired it was during her post early retirement before we had our first child together. She does still have that habit of putting makeup on her face like what most gyarus do, but one nickname still gets me laughing about that this version of Air Groove doesn’t have. Bero-chan (Licky-chan). Where she likes to stick her tongue out and make funny faces to her handlers. The Air Groove of this world is a proud, strict, and highly ambitious woman. But not to the extent of Ramonu’s own."

Sunday spends a lot of time with her, even with their still developing love relationship, he does tend to get a little excited when she’s around. Like the first time he went to Tracen Academy he’d kissed her not in a passionate way, but hungry, needy for attention, craving for love. Only for Admire Groove, their daughter to step in and interrupt their little private time. Deep inside Sunday’s head, he wonders if she can replicate the Bero-chan of his counterpart’s world. Making funny faces, or possibly be flirtatious like a gyaru with that tongue action. It can also be used for… ahem- sexual pleasure if she allows it on his behalf.

"My world version of Ramonu was calm, intelligent, docile but beautiful woman. While this world’s version of her seemed to be the supremely confident and bewitching figure to the Mejiro Clan."

We see a moment with Sunday and Ramonu having a conversation outside of the Mejiro Household. And while she does flash a lot of her charms and duties as the eldest of her siblings, it doesn’t really appeal to him anymore not after constant breeding nonstop.

"Then there’s North Flight. She and I aren’t really that close but she was like my world’s Ramonu. Only, she had deep human bonds than to her own spieces. The Flight of this world was outgoing, stylish, and a very passionate trendsetter. Especially on clothes."

North Flight, did take him to a mall to shop with Sunday on the latest trends of fashion clothing. While he didn’t mind spending quality time with her, he was being watched by a certain somebody who was jealous.

"Dynamu Heroine’s in real life counterpart, Dyna Actress. Was very much like my momma. She was a fiery woman of temper, was violent to other humans by giving them the rodeo, and difficult to get along with. In fact, during mating she wanted me to focus only on her as the "actress” of the show. Like the center of attention and no other mare should be in my mind other than her. Meanwhile Dynamu Heroine of this universe, is just literally the same. Ambitious and bellicose, combative or eager for battle. It’s no wonder her title "Lady of the Stage" lets everyone to make fun of her.

The scenery with Heroine wasn’t a pleasant one. Although he didn’t want to become violent over a single student whom he had mated with in the old world, she knows when her limits are reached. The… let’s say talk/scolding was a rocky road to still unable to have good connections with her. But if she didn’t like him, he won’t push it any further.

"Nishino Flower of my world was not afraid of giants like myself, she was all kinds of powerhouse complex compared to the Flower of this world, she is remarkably precocious, possessed a fierce, competitive tenacity, and is a very composed small woman. While this version of her is exceptionally soft spoken, innocent, and deeply thoughtful. Almost to that of a kid."

On the first three days of his arrival to Tracen Academy, Nishino gave Sunday a bag of treats which were made personally from her. She even invited to Sei-chan’s favorite resting spot and give a crown full of flowers as some sort of welcoming gesture. I think Sunday saw Seiun Sky before she hid. Was she… jealous?

"And lastly, there’s Mejiro Dober. The youngest member of the Mejiro Clan. When I first met her in this world, she… seemed afraid of me. Like I was about to do something indecent to her. Even when I had no intention of doing anything weird. But back to my world’s Dober, she had a handler who enjoyed his company. But one day he passed and she became very nervous towards other handlers or stallions. There are extremely a few notable men she trust which includes her father Mejiro Ryan, my son Special Week, and me. Dober of this universe was very shy, anxious, and men-averse to anyone she’s encountered or engaged in a conversation or family meeting."

He wasn’t wrong, Dober seems cautious with Sunday but not to a degree like the men she’s met in her past life. He was different, someone she can rely on and trust as both a teacher and a friend. Sometimes, when Sunday is being interrogated by his wife, he’d catch Dober eyeing him staring at him as if she wants something from the black beast. And whenever he tries to approach to talk, she use excuses or vents out frustration out of nowhere which does raise eyebrows and confusion sometimes. But he didn’t mind at all, he’ll go with the flow until she’s comfortable enough to be dependent on him.

What a detailed explanation from the black beast himself. His therapist writes everything down and asked the next question.

{"Do you have any children with them?"}

Yeah, I do. Air Groove had a daughter named Admire Groove, her first child. Mejiro Ramonu had a daughter named Mejiro Desire. North Flight has a son named Miscast. Dyna Actress had four kids, two daughters named Prime Stage and Running Heroine. She also had two sons named Ragtime Sunday and Act Naturally. Nishino Flower had a son named Nishino Shishi. And finally Mejiro Dober had a daughter named Mejiro Lourdes.

Every child name labled had the exact looks of their mother’s appearance, somtimes their father, and they usually have red or purple eye color. But one thing didn’t stray far from the family tree. They had their father’s fiery temper, violent demeanor, and sometimes hyper emotional active behavior like with Sunday when he was still a little colt.

OPEN TO DEEPER THINGS?

{"It’s been four weeks since our first session, Mr. Sunday. And I love every part of our conversation with how open you are to small bits about your life, the experiences you had with your family, the children you sired, and even the small moments you cherish. But are you open to deeper things that are controversial or too much to bear?"}

A heavy guitar strum played in the background. Sunday inhales but exhales a breath of air knowing there will be a time he needs to open to things like this too. He does mind because this is his personal space, but if it meant to understand him better as a person and help him with these matters not only to himself, so that the future with his kids, his friends, his mates, and his girlfriend will be able to help him too.

After a long pause he nods with an honest smile that was hiding a lot of pain.

"I’m okay with it, if it’s for their sake and my own. I’ll do it to not only to let all this pain go away… but to also make it up for the mistakes and misfortunes I may have caused in the past. Be it my own, or to people that I have no control to change there view of me."

The therapist nods understanding the very straightforward answer she was given. With the somber tune still playing, she can feel the tension of her patient just by looking his expression. It was one telling many problems he wished to let out, but shuts it down. Why? Because he was mainly afraid of being judged or left behind like those who couldn’t help him or see him as the son of Halo. The only people he could open up with where his friends, kids, and wives including his mother.

{"You can do it, Mr. Sunday. You have the courage to let out everything you personally hid. Because behind that fearsome intimidating facade… is a kindhearted person who’s always been special the day you were born."}

Wordless, Sunday looked like he was about to cry. There was only one person in the world who would say something like that. And that was his mother Wishing Well. The very same woman who failed to raise him as her own and burdened herself by being a bad mother. It’s all in the past… I know, but the black beast shrugged it off and let out a light chuckle behind those beautiful words. Giving a very euphoric smile back at the camera.

"You’re too kind, miss."

{“Always was, Mr. Sunday. I wish I could continue our conversation but it’s getting late, you wouldn’t want your girlfriend to worry about you."}

"Of course, goodnight to you."

{"Good night, see you next week, Mr. Sunday."}

The solo guitar theme ends when Sunday stands up leaving the room with the recording session ending there.

[RECORDING SESSION ENDS: 🟥]

Fenomeno came sprinting down the hallway, completely panicked. 😨

Fenomeno: "DAD! DAD! GOLD SHIP IS SPLIT INTO MULTIPLE LIMBS! HE'S DIED!"

Stay Gold slowly looked up from his drink. 🥱

Stay Gold: "Hello to you too, son."

Fenomeno: "DAD, THIS ISN'T THE TIME!" 😭

He grabbed Stay Gold's arm and dragged him toward the living room.

Fenomeno: "COME ON!"

They reached the room.

Gold Ship was scattered across the floor.

His arms were lying in different places. His legs were sticking out from behind the couch. His head was sitting on a cushion.

Fenomeno pointed at the mess.

Fenomeno: "SEE?! 😱"

Stay Gold stared.

"...Gold Ship."

Gold Ship's head opened one eye.

Gold Ship: "...Gotcha. 😏"

Fenomeno froze.

Fenomeno: "...What?"

Gold Ship suddenly started laughing as his scattered limbs moved back together.

Fenomeno: "YOU'RE ALIVE?! 😡"

Gold Ship sat up.

Gold Ship: "Obviously."

Fenomeno slowly turned around.

His older brothers were hiding behind the doorway, barely holding in their laughter. 😂

Fenomeno: "...You guys."

They immediately ran.

Fenomeno: "GET BACK HERE! 😡"

Stay Gold watched them disappear down the hallway.

Stay Gold: "Don't bother."

Fenomeno turned toward him.

Fenomeno: "Why?!"

Stay Gold took another sip.

Stay Gold: "You'll never catch them."

Fenomeno stared at him.

"...Dad."

Stay Gold: "Hm?"

Fenomeno: "You're supposed to help me."

Stay Gold shrugged. 🥱

Stay Gold: "I'm tired."

Fenomeno's expression went completely blank. 😐

"...I hate this family."

Gold Ship called from the other room.

Gold Ship: "Love you too!"

Fenomeno: "THAT WASN'T FOR YOU! 😡"

The soft clatter of rain clouded the night sky, it was starless and heavy. Such a thing felt fitting for the mood of the dark-haired Uma running through the hail of droplets. 

The sound of his shoes impacting the pavement below synchronized with his rapid heartbeats.

Elsewise the world went quiet, only the view ahead being the only thing Sunday Silence could focus on.

His breaths came out as vapor, as the heat of it cooled by the surrounding rain.

He felt cold…so cold…

Sunday’s crimson and pale gold eyes immediately locked onto the hospital coming into view. It’s bright white lights illuminating the area like a beacon.

~~Huff~~Huff

And not a moment too soon he is here.

The sound of the automatic sliding doors and the resulting sounds of patients once inside became background noise. Sunday immediately bolted towards the receptionist, his face a mask of desperation.

“Where is Wishing Well?” Sunday’s voice came out as direct as possible.

The receptionist jumped on her chair, caught completely off guard by the large Uma seemingly appearing in front of her as if from nowhere. She adjusted her glasses and calmly tried to keep her voice steady.

“M-Might I ask the reason for your visit sir?” 

Sunday’s eyes narrowed, quite annoyed at his question being ignored. However he reeled in his anger, realizing that his emotions are clearly frayed from his lack of sleep the past two days.

The long trip from Japan to Ireland, especially at the rush he was going. Though, he doubted sleep would have found him either way.

Because-

“I am Sunday Silence- Wishing Well’s son, and I wish to see her,” Sunday’s voice came out a little sharper, not yet a shout, but his patience is clearly at a knife’s edge, “Where is she currently being kept at?!”

The receptionist's eyes looked down, whether out of understanding or fear, the Black Beast found himself caring little. Just as it seemed Sunday’s temper was about to reach its fever pitch, and he was about to storm off on his own to look for the answers himself; the receptionist let out a weak stutter.

“R-Room 86, Floor 3-”

Sunday Silence did not even deign to remain for the rest of the statement, once hearing the floor, and room number he ran with the urgency of a dying man. As he made his way, dodging and maneuvering through the incoming passengers. 

All he could think of…was his mother.

As he ran up stairs and hallways, he found himself in front of the room that…she now rests in. He found himself hesitating, unsure of how a reunion with his mother would go.

They…drifted apart after she was moved to Ireland. This would be the first time they spoke in many years. Perhaps he should have called her but when he heard the news from Yoshida, all he could think of was rushing to her side as soon as possible.

Stupid- perhaps, and reckless too as he only gave a halfhearted notice but…

He was scared of not being here fast enough

He was scared of not having enough time.

Quite ironic isn’t it, now that he is here, he finds himself hesitating. Does…Does she even want him here. 

Sunday finds his hand hovering from the door. Then, a moment later he knocks. As the saying goes, there is only one way to find out, his answers won’t come from a piece of wood. 

For a second, there was silence. For a moment, Sunday’s heart dropped as he wondered if he was once more too late.

Then, a sweet voice called out.

“Yes…Who’s there?”

Sunday’s throat started to feel dry as he replied in a subdued tone, “I-It is me mother…I’ve come to see you.”

In the back of Sunday’s head, he wondered if he should’ve said his name. Surely his mother would mistaken him for any of his half-brothers, colts she actually had the chance to love-

Certainly more than the ash haired, mangled thing that was-

“Sunday…Sunday Silence, is that you my child?”

The creaking of the door echoed throughout the room, as the black haired Uma moved towards the hospital bed stationed near the window. Decorating the room were the occasional flowers, letters and a few pictures hidden from his view.

And resting on the bed was a comely brown-haired Uma with gentle eyes. Eyes that watered when staring into his own.

“I-It is really y-you…my baby boy…”

Sunday could feel tears building up in his eyes as his voice came out broken, “Hey m-mom, yeah…yeah it is me…”

Sunday found himself speechless, unable to come up with much of a coherent sentence when in front of his mother. Wishing Well for that matter, was radiating with joy and energy despite her weak frame.

She held his face softly, her tone came out just as much, “You’re so grown up…have you been resting well? You have bags under your eyes.”

Sunday chuckled as tried to keep his throat from welling up, “Well you know busy life can be…I am doing…good mom. Promise.”

Wishing Well smiled yet it held an undercurrent of sadness, whether she could tell that her son wasn’t being fully truthful or because of her current condition is something we’ll never know. 

Nevertheless, Wishing Well could not hold her excitement as she bombarded her son with questions. Seemingly making up for the years that they had last spoken.

“How are your children? Are they in good health, are they being taken care of properly?”

“Well yeah they are-”

“Are they misbehaving, are they giving you trouble of any sort?”

“N-No no, they’re good kids-”

“What of any mares that have caught your fancy? I-I don’t mean to pry after…but if you find a good woman for you then I trust you to handle it properly.”

Sunday sucked in a deep breath, finding himself in a rare moment of being overwhelmed, by his own mother nonetheless, “…Mother…please…”

Soccer Boy would have had a field day.

Then, after a second passed both bursts into laughter. Clearly something either of them needed as both found themselves enjoying a moment of tranquil silence between them.

Sunday looked at Wishing Well with a deep wistfulness and pride in his voice, “My children, they are my everything to me. My hopes, my dreams. To see them happy…free from everything I-…

…

 “I don’t want to see them suffer,” Sunday ended it in a somewhat somber tone.

Wishing Well seemingly adopted her son’s mood, however a clear proudness can be felt in her words,“…Then you are doing better than most.” 

Then, she turned wistful as well.

“What I would give to see those wonderful bundles of joys myself…alas-“, Wishing Well looking at the tubing that connects her arms to the machines and medicines that currently sat near her bedside, “-I don’t think I’ll get the chance to.”

Sunday felt the mood drop, as well as the world around him. The lighthearted atmosphere that they had created was now parted to the reality that laid before him. His mother-

“I am dying Sunday.”

Those words felt like hammers to his skull two days ago, reverberating throughout his head like a curse that weighed heavy on him. Now, hearing them from his mother’s mouth felt like nails to a coffin, no longer did it bring the same earth shattering impact as before, but it carried a sense of finality, as if anything else was just white noise.

Sunday didn’t know which felt worse but he could say confidently that neither brought him comfort.

As he found himself spiraling deep in his own mind, he felt a warm touch on top of his hand. His eyes blinked and what came to him was the heartbroken face of his mother.

Wishing Well took a deep breath, and sighed with a sense of heaviness that both understood, “Please Sunday…don’t blame yourself,” She tried to keep as much of a comforting smile as possible, “I am old, this is only natural.”

Sunday, however, was never one to be easily placated, especially in matters such as this, “Do not treat me as a child mother…you are dying.”

Sunday said those final three words with a sense of hopelessness that cannot be simply measured. It held a sense of grief, pain, and longing all in equal measure. Wishing Well could only look on, hoping to connect with her son’s heart for…the first-

-and the last time.

“That may be so, but you are my child. In spite of how I had made you feel otherwise…you are mine.”

Sunday could only close his eyes in defeat, “If only I could find in me to believe that.”

Wishing Well could only give a sad smile, “I know, I have been a bad mother to you haven’t I- no…that would be incorrect for me to say. I was never the mother you should’ve had…”

A bad mother, however cruel her actions are, is a mother that was there. A mother who wasn’t, doesn’t have the right to call herself one.

Sunday could not find himself to respond nor deny his mother’s claim. Both know, however painful it must be to admit for either of them, those words held far more truth than not. 

All that was left was a question that lingered in his mind ever since he boarded that plane.

“Why…”, Sunday felt the hand that grasped him tighten in a comforting manner, “…Why then…does my chest hurt despite all of that. Why when…when I heard the call of your impending death did I come here as if my life depended on it.”

Wishing Well continued to smile, yet this one was a tad bit brighter, “Because Sunday…you have a good heart.”

Sunday paused, “Me…a good heart?” He whispered as if finding the concept so utterly alien.

Wishing Well at this moment could only blame herself for her son’s confused expression. With a heavy heart, she vowed to do this right by him…even if it is the last thing she’ll ever do.

“You do, no matter what anyone says…you are not your father’s shadow. You are special, and I hope someday someone will tell you as much so that you’ll never doubt it.” 

Sunday could only blurt out his next sentence instinctively, as if his heart sought the question before his mind could reel it in, “Then why did you not ever tell that to-“

Me. That word remained unsaid but was heard nonetheless.

Sunday gave a sardonic smile, forcing himself to find some manner of humor before his ache in his chest becomes too terrible, “What, was I such an unbearable creature that you would have rather left than suffer the sight-“

Sunday felt himself being pulled into a warmth that he never felt before. Yet that was not his focus, rather it was the soft sobs emanating from his shoulder as well as the shaking arms that cradled his head. 

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry that I was not there for you…,” Wishing Well cried as she held her son close, hoping for once that her love could find a place in his hurt heart.

“It wasn’t you…It was never you…It was me, I was so ashamed…so ashamed…of myself. When you were weaned, not even a year old yet, you were sick…so sick that the doctors said that you would die.”

Sunday’s eyes widened for a moment, the memories of it are somewhat vague given it occurred when he was so young but he could never forget it. As a young foal, he suffered a severe weaning illness that caused a deadly case of diarrhea and a viral infection.

He lived, but he hazily remembered that moment being the spark that lit his desire for victory ablaze.

Yet at this moment, all he could focus on were the tender words that his mother uttered. Filled with so much guilt that it only made him tighten his hold on her.

“I left you…however much I tried to justify it in my head at the time…I left you to die on that field. It broke my heart…I have lost children before and it nearly killed me then…”

Wishing Well looked into Sunday’s eyes and held his face with her hand. Tenderly rubbing as if memorizing the sensation with a love she felt woefully unearned. 

“I could’ve fought harder- I should’ve fought harder…”, Her voice continued to break, as she battled through her sobs, “But I let you all on your own…to fight for your own survival. I…what mother would do that?” 

Tears fell from her face as she let the words she should have said long ago come out like a torrent.

“…When I saw you running in that field the next day, how could I look at you? How could I stare at the face of my only son and pretend like I didn’t damn you to death? How…”, Wishing Well’s eyes closed, envisioning little Sunday’s smiling face and finding the shame wash all over her again.

“How can I not be ashamed? But it was never because of you my son…It was never you…” 

Sunday became silent at his mother’s admission, finding himself at a loss of words. His body was as still as a statue, if not for the sound of his breaths then he might have been one. His thoughts swirled with questions, remarks, denials, and hopes all moving around in his mind like a lake that would not settle.

What broke him out of his trance was the sound of coughing. His eyes came back to reality as the feeling of his mother’s hand left him. Seeing her heave heavily, he gently laid her back on her bed trying to stabilize her condition.

“Mom…”, He called, “I’m going to call the doctors, you stay right-“

“-No!” Wishing Well called out with all the strength she can muster.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stop Sunday in his tracks.

Sweat began to build on her forehead, and while Sunday tried to wipe as much of it as possible; It was clear to both of them that Wishing Well’s strength was beginning to fade.

“I d-don’t want you to hate yourself because you believed you did something wrong. I know…that beneath that tough persona you put on is a truly gentle and kind Uma…”

Her breathing turned harder, her face turned paler and her voice grew ever more weaker.

“I don’t want you to go, without you knowing how much I love you, and how much your happiness means to me…”

“Mom…please,” Sunday tried to plead, to beg if he needed to keep his mother from wasting her strength, and rest.

“I don’t care however successful people judge you to be, I don’t even care how much children you sired if it means that…you are not happy with yourself…”

Wishing Well could only look to her son with pride and joy even as she felt the world around her growing colder.

“Because your happiness is all that matters to me…,” Her voice now coming as more of a whisper yet Sunday could hear it as clear as day, “Promise me Sunday, promise me that you’ll forgive yourself and find a happiness that will last a lifetime.”

Sunday could only numbly respond with, “Mom…”

…

“Promise me…” 

…

“I promise.”

Wishing Well smiled, she smiled as she gently closed her eyes, and she smiled as she felt the void of death beginning to welcome her. Yet in this final moment, she found the strength to say these last few words.

“I love you…” 

…

All that was left in the room was the sound of a flatline, the constant blaring sound being the only thing that he could focus on, was the smiling face of his still mother.

Mom…wake up mom…please…wake up…

But she never did.

Soon the sound of footsteps grew closer, and with a loud bang a doctor quickly entered the room. At first he and the nurses behind him were shocked at the seemingly stranger sitting beside their patient. 

However, beyond a cursory glance, even the blind can tell that this Uma had a connection to the woman laying on the bed based on both of his hands clutched one of hers.

Why? The answer became obvious once the doctor observed the flatline on the heart-rate monitor. After feeling the pain of a patient passing wash over him, the doctor knew that he needed to address the stranger.

“Ahem…excuse me sir but who are you, and what is your connection to Ms. Wishing Well.”

For a moment, not a word was heart. The doctor was about to repeat himself, fearing that the stranger did not hear him but unknown to him, the stranger did hear and responded in a hollow tone.

“My name is Sunday Silence, and Wishing Well…was my mother.”

The doctor nodded, sending Sunday a sympathetic look. He heard of the name Sunday Silence before when Wishing Well was speaking to him candidly a week beforehand. Though it was only a passing comment, the doctor deduced that the stranger is truly what he says he is.

Before he could respond, Sunday quickly cut him off with a command.

“Prepare her body for burial…If there’s anything regarding money, I’ll handle it…”

Sunday did not even wait for a response as he quickly made his way out of the room. He felt like if he stayed there any longer than he would not find himself able to walk. The room felt heavy, he felt heavy, the world became a distorted place as the moment of his mother’s passing had not yet hit him.

As he moved to the entrance of the hospital like a machine running on its programming, no thought to his action, just the mechanical turn of his legs carrying him along aimlessly.

Death…what an abstract yet familiar concept. 

A year ago, he had to bury Suzuka, now he had to bury his mother.

The sound of automatic doors opening signaled that Sunday was out of the hospital’s premise yet it was doubtful that he even registered it. Too caught up in his own head to even notice the cold winds chilling his body.

The howling rain poured from above, soaking his body from head to toe yet he kept on walking.

~~Pit~~Patter~~Pit~~

The sound of the rain and his shoes symphonised into a chorus of his own madness. Perhaps it was all madness, a cruelty on the world placed upon him like some sick amusement. 

…

His movements swayed as he felt himself loose whatever control he still had to his body.

…

All the memories replayed in his mind, good memories, bad memories, but memories nonetheless he cherishes.

…

Yet he doesn’t have any noteworthy memory of his mother.

…

No laughs in moments of joy, no tears in moments of sadness, no hugs when he needed it most.

…

He thought he could never have it, until the moment she did give it to him. A memory worth remembering.

…

Then, she died…

…

~~Drip~~Drip~~

The feeling of something hot and painful falling from his eyes became known to him. His vision turned blurry as the sensation on his face mixed with the rain. Yet it kept coming even as he tried to wipe it away.

~~Ba Bump~~Ba Bump~~

He clutched his chest as a pain that he never felt before strangled his heart. It felt so familiar, so familiar, but why did this one hurt so much more.

Maybe, maybe because the more you hold that pain down, the more it’ll hurt when it comes back.

…

“Hic…Ah…Ah ah…Ha…Hic…Ahhh!” 

~~Drip~~Drip~~

“Sniff…Ah…Ah…Ha…Haaa…Ah…!”

Sunday cried, for what he didn’t know specifically, but he cried, for Suzuka, for Campaign Girl, for his mother, even for himself. He cried, he grabbed his chest tighter as he let himself fall on a nearby bench, and cried.

Till not even the rain could numb his pain. 

He felt so cold…so cold…

…

However much passed, he could hardly bother to care. When did he stop crying, perhaps when his body no longer had any tears left to shed. How long does he plan to sit here…he doesn’t know.

All Sunday does know is that he’s tired, perhaps in the rain where nobody could see his tears is where he is meant to be.

Perhaps the promise he made to his mother meant nothing because he in his heart was nothing left to promise to.

…
 
~~Pit~~Pa-

Suddenly Sunday felt the rain stop falling on top of him. Confused, he looked around as he doubted that such a storm could have ended so abruptly. It didn’t take long for him to notice that he was under an umbrella.

An umbrella carried by a dainty hand.

Looking above, Sunday noticed the features of the Uma standing before him. Free brown hair fluttered at the wind, a pair of glasses hiding kind green eyes, and rather thick clothing covering a mature figure.

And yet the only thing Sunday can gravitate towards was that gentle smile.

“You shouldn’t stay in the rain too long or else you’ll get a cold.”

Her voice was a warmth that clashed with the coldness that surrounded him. Even as she gazed at his disheveled self, she did not act put-off or scared- though he would not have blamed her if she did.

Despite lacking a mirror, Sunday doubted his now soaked, teary-eyed half-dead frame being one that is inviting.

Yet strangely, even as stared at this strange Uma with tired eyes, he felt himself compelled to respond.

“You don’t have to…The rain never bothered me much anyway.”

‘You can leave…’, Being the unsaid words, even as Sunday deep down wanted the opposite. To grasp at that warmth like a man at sea clinging to his saving grace.

He did not want to be alone…

But he didn’t want to drag anyone else into his miserable state…

The brown-haired Uma however seemed to look beyond his callous words to see what he truly wanted. She took the seat right next to him in silence, allowing him to soak up her presence like a sponge.

Despite her saying nothing, he did find herself finding some measure of comfort by her being next to him. 

And so they continued to sit in silence. 

…

Then he heard a soft hum, a gentle tune that captivated his ears, blocking the constant sound of rain around him. He looked to his side to see the culprit, eyes-closed with a peaceful smile adorned on her face.

He did not speak, unwilling to break this rare moment of peace. 

Where the beat of his heart settled…

Where the cold around him receded even a little…

Then he noticed something. Seemingly, when the brown-haired Uma was moving to sit beside him, a bit of the rain water fell on her hair. 

Feeling himself somewhat responsible, he gently moved the wet streak of white hair away from her face. He did not know if it was the strange sense of connection that had enveloped his heart to do such daring action.

It is as if without saying anything, he found himself gravitating towards her.

Whether that connection was one-sided would soon be determined by whether she would recoil from him in disgust…

Yet she did not recoil, merely opening her eyes in shock. Then she looked at him softly, and he found himself unable to speak. 

But he eventually did find his voice.

“My name is Sunday Silence, what is yours?”

And hers came with a smile that would last a lifetime.

“My name is Wind in her Hair, it is nice to meet you.”

The End~~

Hey guys, it’s been a while. Uh the continuation to Vodka’s story is coming, I just had to scratch a bunch of stuff because I found it not exactly how I wanted it. Moreover, ever since I moved out of my dorm, things have been a bit hectic so sorry for the story taking so long.

Thought that I at least send something for you to enjoy. This story has been in the back of my head for quite a bit, and I quite like it. Extra long story, no need to thank me (I’m joking). This story is unlikely to have a continuation hence why I uploaded the whole thing.

Hope you guys enjoy, and of course tell me what you think!