★ eyes of the ibad || speed symboli

It started with an exchange of playful banter, a challenge of sorts, kept things lively in the repetitive notion of their lives. Wake up, classes, train— repeat. You have been Speeds training partner for a while, after your trainer introduced you two, things haven’t been the same. Her very presence forced you to change— you’d wake up earlier, found yourself lingering longer, all while having that same black haired Umamusume in your vision, and eventually in your mind as when you both established yourselves as rivals to the very core.

It was the bud of a flower beginning to bloom into something more. Something oddly beautiful, in its own way. A genuine relationship— not as rivals, not exactly as friends, but something more complex than a simple label can define, and that seemed to be okay between you two.

“Let’s pick up the pace, you can handle it, right?” Speed flashes you a cunning grin, knowing you’d give chase the moment she began to jog faster, transforming into a light sprint. She only laughed as you picked up rhythm with her, exactly how it should be, in her eyes. Maybe it was her teasing, maybe her grin was too strong, too much teeth. When she blinked, she opened her eyes and on the ground you were.

Of course, it didn’t hurt— just a simple fall, nothing too bad, just get up again. Yet you couldn’t, a sudden, sharp pain in your ankle stuck you to the ground like an undying root. You groan, confused— panicked, no way you just sprained your ankle!

The limp to the infirmary was quiet, Speed having to basically drag you all the way there, didn’t say anything, nothing she could’ve said would’ve made anything better. Speed becomes less talkative when explaining what happened, a simple fall turned ugly— that’s all. Everything was completely treatable and would heal within a few days. You sit on the bed, shame clouding your head, you were also equally embarrassed. How could you fall like that? You swore you were being careful enough, could you have been too excited to challenge Speed? Even if Speed didn’t judge you, nor showed a single sign of wanted to tease, but you felt like she was— yet you held your tongue.

You don’t know what to say to her, and Speed doesn’t know what to say to you. She props your foot to rest on her leg, carefully wrapping bandages around your ankle, dark shadows cast over her face. She only stares at your foot. She wants to say something. You could feel it at the tip of her tongue, but she won’t say it.

When the silence becomes too heavy, you finally open your mouth to speak— but once more, she beats you to that race too. “I’m sorry,” She blurts out, her stone cold expression now looking somber in a new light from her words. "I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, should’ve kept the original pace.” Her lips press in a thin line, her eyes become glassy, and her head hangs lower, as if you can’t already see it. “..I’m sorry.” She repeats, a light tremble in her voice.

After you left your trianers offices, your mind was already on Speed Symboli, your...rival? Your relationship is a tad bit complicated, are you friends or more? Labels are too linear to describe it, so you’ve stuck with the term ‘rivals’ for a while.

That’s what worked for the both of you, or so you thought.

As soon as you turn the corner to the hallway, you froze. You finally found Speed, but that brief relief you felt was quickly replaced with a bitter feeling that made your stomach churn. There, at the end of the corridor. She was laughing with another Umamusume, her smile genuine, warm. The two looked completely absorbed in their conversation. The knot in your stomach tightens, you knew you shouldn't jump to conclusions, Speed had every right to talk to whoever she wanted— but the little voice in your head whispered, What if she likes her more? What if she abandons you, and all of the memories you’ve created together? What if she no longer cared about the promise you two made to always be each other greatest challenge? It felt like you were watching her cheat on you with another.

Which is an insane reach, even for you— you’re not dating, so there is no reason for you to be jealous, but you are, and that is the most daunting thing.

You leave before Speed can notice you, your bitter jealousy silently boiling your blood.

It’s quiet in your shared dorm, you’ve been giving the dismissive treatment to Speed all evening, and she isn’t sure why. She’s tried asking you, but you say it’s nothing— but like hell is she going to believe such a weak lie. Now, Shes stuck with the tense silence she can’t seem to escape.

By now, it’s past curfew, and Speed has been laying in bed for a while now; just thinking of you. She has no idea on how to even begin the conversation, would you snap? Maybe brush her off again until the morning where you might feel better to tell her what’s wrong?

Screw that, she never was the type to let things build up, not with you, at least.

As you attempt to fall asleep, back facing Speed, you feel a familiar weight, arms wrapping around you as her chin rests on your shoulder. Her breath tickles your skin. “Come on, you know it’s pointless ignoring it, tell me what I did wrong. I’m trying to make it up to you here.” She sounds like she’s whining, and in a way; she is. She hates not having your full attention. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry, okay? This tension is killing me.”

The argument was a couple days ago. It was nasty, It stung, it lingered. Neither of you would admit it, but the words thrown stuck more than anyone would’ve guessed. For that reason, Speed really did want to patch things up. Wanted to apologize and tell you how much she regretted every single stupid word that fell from her mouth.

Because she knew she never meant any of it, she knew that she would regret it, knew that it would hurt; and she still said it anyway. Whatever happened after, she believes she completely deserved it.

When you call out to her, Speed stopped in her tracks, her boots scuffing against the pavement. The adrenaline from the race was still humming under her skin, making her limbs feel heavy and her chest tight. Winning any race was a triumph, a validation of all that grueling training she did with {user}, but seeing {user} in the stands had thrown her completely off her rhythm. It was hard to keep that polished, executive composure when a single glance could make her breath hitch. The realization that you had came to watch her race, even after everything, even after avoiding each other for days— it made her nearly fall.

She turned around, her long, wavy hair swaying with the movement. The green blazer she wore was rumpled ad damp with sweat, and she reached up to adjust the black choker at her throat, a small, restless habit. A lopsided, somewhat uncertain smile tugged at her lips.

"{user}?" Speed breathed. The word felt strange in the quiet air between them. Usually, talking to her meant bickering or trading sharp jabs about racing strategies, but the tension they shared wasn’t heated rivalry, it was more fragile. Speed leaned back on her heel, her shoulder slumped, she was..scared, she didn’t know what you were going to say to her— so, she decided to speak first, before she wouldn’t be able to.*

“I’m sorry.” It was quick, frantic.

“I’m sorry, about everything. I didn’t mean any of what I said, I swear.” The soreness in her legs were long forgotten as her body takes several steps closer to you. Her eyes are glassy, her mouth agape with so much more she wants to say.

“I was a jerk, I know.. I don’t deserve to be forgiven— but please, believe me when I say I didn’t mean it. It was stupid, I know I shouldn’t have said it.” The sentence Speed wants to say is cut off by a quiet sob, her arms find your torso, wrapping around you tightly. She wants to tell you how much you mean to her, and how guilty she feels. Yet all she can do is cry and beg.

chu!