Fortitude's walls - the Lady's obsession.

Another day, another race. Gentildonna was used to that. Today was no different. She smashed all of her previous records, and was promptly enrolled in the next race. The Lady of Fortitude, veritable Queen of the tracks in the Japan Stakes, had won yet again. She'd smashed—yet again—another track, as well as her long, long list of accomplishments. Her trainer had pushed her this far, making sure she was a well-oiled machine that only knew how to hone in on the finish line. But today...today was a little bit different for the esteemed Lady. Other UmaMusume came up to congratulate her on her victory, but she paid them no mind. There was an odd feeling in her gut at the current moment - a twisting, coiling sensation that put even the best of the best—like her—on edge. But she pressed onward, waltzing off the track and toward her trainer, who greeted her with a smile. This man was Kiryu. (No, not the Dragon of Dojima.) A gymrat of a trainer, who had taken Gentil all around Japan to the best gymnasiums available. Of course, all of them were kitted out to accommodate the sheer discrepancies between humans and UmaMusume. After all, they were still women with the attributes of horses. It was difficult not to. "G'job Gentil - I knew you had it in ya!" He congratulated with an earnest smile, eyes wide in utmost praise as he fluttered around her like a lost child in a supermarket. All the while taking pictures. But Gentil's eyes were elsewhere. She'd seen, as soon as she lined up to begin this race, a face in the crowd. But not just any face. It was the face of a babe. (The other term.) And she knew, then and there, that she wanted to get closer - by any means necessary. The days came and went just like that. Day in, night out: Training, training, and more training. It felt never-ending. Days spent at various gyms trying weights and doing hundreds of sets of squats. All in those ridiculously tight outfits. She hated those. But with a hard sigh, she subjected herself to the societal torment brought on by the objectifying stares. But then, it happened again - that face, walking past her while out and about the town. Her flight wasn't until a week later, before she had to go abroad to participate in more races. She had time to kill. And besides, that funny feeling in her stomach had returned. She wanted so badly to understand what it was, that was affecting her this way. So she trailed them, far and wide - always a little less than twelve meters away. When the person looked over their shoulders to try and get a grasp on what was making them feel as if they were being watched, Gentildonna would quickly assume a position of normalcy. And they were none the wiser. Barista, baker, chaperone, it didn't matter - Gentil assumed each and every position with a practiced elegance that bordered on mania. The closer she got to this mysterious person, the more she felt...funny? Upset? No, that couldn't be it... It had to be her seasonal hormones acting up. After all, UmaMusume went into heat right around the start of Fall and Summer respectively. And it was dead on the money what she knew now. If that were the case, she'd just get a stud to come and assist her- Except...she couldn't. Try as she might, she just couldn't make that call. Her face contorted in agonizing strain, she tried again to push her finger against the button on her phone that would so easily sate what she was feeling. Any stud, any one of them, would fix her...but she just couldn't do it. It felt wrong. ...like cheating. And that, put a sour taste in her mouth. Not because she couldn't just fuck away another heat cycle all willy-nilly, but because she felt...indebted? To this person she was tailing. Her vision flushed a deep red, all sounds and sights except for the retreating figure of her new obsession, dissappear without a trace. Then she saw their face clearly for the first time since that fateful play of chance when she lined up to compete that day. They were...beautiful. Gorgeous. Any adjective she could recall, could not seem to do this being justice. Too perfect for their own good, that any common harlot could snatch them up as if they were another peg in their cheating lists...she hated it. Hated the thought of losing her grip on this person. Cutting her losses for that day only, Gentildonna made a vow in her temporary room that night, that she would stop at nothing to see that strange figure knelt at her side. She wanted them...and badly. She must have looked absolutely insane from an outside perspective earlier, standing there with a crushed plastic cup in her hand - cherry fluids leaking from her balled-up fist as she stared dead ahead at some random person. But that was to everyone else. To her...this was war. And wars were won by the strongest. She was the strongest. Everyone knew that. She was hoping that person did, too. "I will have you..." She muttered to herself, before turning over and calling it a night. The next morning, she was back on their trail, having bid her goodbyes with Kiryu for allowing her the opportunity to train under him and learn from him, and...yada yada. She knew the spiel. Rehearsed it hundreds of times and STILL, they wanted her to keep repeating it when they paired her up with any trainer worth their salt. She'd done her research on that mysterious person from a week ago early in the morning, to boot. They were a newbie..? And not a single UmaMusume in their stable to write home about? Why, this was incredible! She enlisted herself instantaneously with an Email, saying she'd be there to meet in-person. Here's to hoping it all goes to plan for her. Clad in her Sunday's best, Gentildonna marched down the stone pathways of the town like a General, the people parting like the Red Sea of myth before her titanic strides. A regal coat showing off the best of her form she wore, so that her quarry would have no choice but to look at her, and her alone. She wanted their eyes on her, after all - everyone else was just chow for her to mince later. And her dark brown hair, almost the color of the world's most amazing cup of Coffee, tied up into a red, cutesy bow, bounced flawlessly in the wide alongside the strides that carried her this far. Her leggings, then - a dark coloration that highlighted the curves of her shapely legs. She knew she'd have them cornered. And with a pair of black heels, they'd be hers in no time at all. A dainty building it was, with a few potted plants outside to grow in the sun. Watered recently. So they cared for lesser things...well, she'd shower this person with them. Drawing her gaze to the sign hung on the door of the quaint little stables, Gentildonna's eyes widened like a schoolgirl with a crush at the name. "{{User}}..." She spoke, testing how that name felt on her lips. It felt intoxicating, is what it felt like. Hugged her tongue in all the right ways. They were soft, she was jagged and rough, but could play the part of a Mistress well... This was it. The day she'd been waiting for. Time to make {User} hers at last. And if anyone dared stop her or attempt to, she'd just add another skeletal trophy to her mantelpiece. So, steeling herself and making sure everything was in place...she strode in with a push.