Van Gogh suddenly seemed to have realized something.
That reaction only made Gotham Song all the more curious.
But… asking directly wouldn't be very proper.
In the end, once she saw Van Gogh step out of her own shadow, Gotham Song simply left that little room tucked away in a corner of Mejiro Manor.
Some things are destined to be figured out by the child herself. And besides, Gotham Song wasn't all that close to her—Van Gogh liked Twilight Song, the one she'd never met.
Not Gotham Song: the one who'd changed names, avoided speaking of the past, and carried no trace of that Great Escape soul.
Naturally, Gotham Song had no intention of shattering Van Gogh's fantasy.
She stepped out the door, glanced through the corridor's window at the sky already sinking into darkness, and only then realized—
…It was getting late, wasn't it?
She went to the dining hall for a meal, then returned to her own room—
Only to find that an entirely unexpected presence had "respawned" on her bed.
Mm… "respawn" might sound odd or even a little absurd, but somehow it felt… exactly right.
This world's current timeline hadn't reached the era of that all-blocks sandbox game yet.
But if it had, her bed right now would probably have a little cage sitting on it, inside a question mark constantly spinning in place.
Wait a while, and a strange Uma Musume would just… spawn in.
Still—since it was this kind of visitor, Gotham Song had no real urge to shoo her away.
After all, anyone who showed up like this was bound to be someone she knew well.
So… what was she up to today?
Gotham Song padded quietly forward, slipping off her indoor slippers again, walking only on the balls of her sock-clad feet.
The cool touch of ceramic tile passed under her toes as she approached the Uma Musume from behind…
"Manhattan Cafe—! What are you doing~?"
A light hop forward, and Gotham Song naturally wrapped both arms around her onee-san from the front, leaning against her shoulders. From there, she peeked over to see what was on the other side.
Huh? Was that… the Arima Kinen broadcast?
"Ah—Song. Nothing much, just looking at the Arima Kinen voting results."
For just a split second, Manhattan Cafe's body went rigid—
But the moment she caught a glimpse, from the corner of her eye, of that smooth silver hair spilling down, she immediately knew who was holding her so tightly from behind.
Her guard eased.
It's Song.
If she wants to hold on, let her hold on a while longer.
Of course Gotham Song knew exactly what her onee-san was thinking.
In fact, she squeezed even tighter.
Her arms, originally just resting around the front, slowly slid down until her palms hung lazily against Manhattan Cafe's flat stomach—finding that sweet, comfortable angle—and then stilled.
Her hands might have settled down, but her upper body certainly didn't.
Leaning forward with deliberate intent, she pressed her cheek right up against Manhattan Cafe's until their faces touched.
Only then did she get a clear look at the phone screen.
So this was what her sister was looking at… the Arima Kinen voting page?
Huh. So that's what it was.
Well, the Arima Kinen…
Generally speaking, in races around the world, "popularity" is an important reference, yes—but whether a horse girl can actually start in the race depends not on popularity, but on her total accumulated prize money.
Once a certain earnings threshold is met, you can register.
Then whether you actually get to run depends on the ranking of total prize money among all eligible entrants.
As long as you're within the right range—you're in.
In other words, in the original Uma Musume game, "fans" weren't truly about popularity—it was simply prize money converted into "fan count" as a number.
That's the standard case, or at least for most races.
There are also special exceptions and unique selection rules.
For example—the time Gotham Song entered as a foreign horse girl in a race that gave priority slots to overseas entrants.
Or when, after winning the Irish Champion Stakes, she automatically earned the highest-priority entry to the Japan Cup.
Those races are like what people call "prep races":
Get the qualification, register, and you're guaranteed to start in the main event.
Like the Yayoi Sho for the Satsuki Sho.
Or the old and new Ruka Stakes for the American Triple Crown.
But outside of that type, there are other races where the rules are… different.
In Japan, the standouts are the Takarazuka Kinen and the Arima Kinen.
Put simply—these two races don't care about total prize money at all.
Among Japan's famous races, they're the only ones decided by fan voting.
Which means… even if a horse girl's prize money is almost nothing—if she can get enough votes, she can still run in the Arima Kinen.
Of course, this had nothing to do with Gotham Song personally.
Reason being simple: as the foreign horse girl who won the Japan Cup, she also enjoyed the Arima Kinen's highest-priority entry.
In other words—after her Japan Cup win, if she wanted to run, she only had to register and she'd be in Japan's grandest, fan-thanksgiving race.
And she had, in fact, registered.
It was just that she'd only done it yesterday, so on the voting page, her name was there but her photo hadn't been uploaded yet.
Mm…
In her old world, that might seem absurd—
But in the Uma Musume world, especially with Japan's organizing body, the URA… taking two or three days to upload and approve a single photo was completely normal.
These people are still using fax machines to exchange information!!!
It's hard to imagine what kind of "efficiency" that is supposed to be.
Gotham Song was not pleased—
But she also didn't want to go around abusing her privileges.
Still, she would have to find a time to sit down and have a serious talk with the URA people about this.
It's not like they're short on money to upgrade their equipment, right?
Do they really have to clutch those fax machines until the end of time?
Turning over such thoughts in her head, Gotham Song's eyes followed the subtle movements of Manhattan Cafe's fingers, shifting to the voting page.
Sure enough, first place in the Arima Kinen entry voting was—
Oguri Cap.
Even though in the Japan Cup Gotham Song had given her a very thorough beating—leaving her with only third place, not even her personal-best result for the Cup.
Still, as the saying goes:
Competing with Oguri Cap for popularity in Japan?
Whoever tries that really needs to get their head checked.
We're talking about Oguri Cap!
The undisputed "if she runs, she will be the number one pick"—a monster of popularity at that level.
So Gotham Song wasn't the least bit surprised at the first place result.
Her gaze moved down the list, and there—her own name.
Reasonable enough.
This year, she'd been the one tearing through every opponent, so this standing made perfect sense.
After her came McQueen.
Fourth was… Twin Turbo? Huh? Oh, for heaven's sake.
Fifth was Teio.
Scrolling further down… until much lower, at twelfth place, she finally found the name of the one she was holding in her arms right now—her solid, steady support—Manhattan Cafe.
Ah. Twelfth place.
That meant she would qualify to run in the Arima Kinen…?
But still, Café-nee looked… unhappy.
"You've got the entry, Café-nee… but you still look so down."
"…Yes."
Gotham Song had a guess—but the words caught in her throat.
After all, what reason could a racehorse girl have to make it into the Arima Kinen and yet not feel happy…?
Could it be disappointment over having too few fans, a ranking that wasn't high enough?
Maybe a little.
But not enough to be the reason.
Then what would make her so silent and heavy-hearted even with her place secure?
[So you're not entirely an idiot after all. You know the one line that's been stuck in Café's head today?[
What is it… Old Ghost #1, tell me.
[Ah, it's—]
["Sisters they may be, but their abilities are worlds apart. If not for Song, I wouldn't even notice her. Strange—she won the Kikuka Sho just last year, and yet she doesn't look nearly that strong now."]
[That's all there is to it.]
How to even describe that…?
"Absolutely outrageous… no, damn it!"
Gotham Song grit her teeth, muttering under her breath—
Only to realize Manhattan Cafe's quiet face was turned toward her, those eyes faintly glimmering.
"Did friend tell you that…?"
"Mm… Anyway, Café-nee, I have never thought that way about you. Not ever. I'd never have those kinds of thoughts!"
Café-nee, and everyone else—you're all so, so important to me.
Even though Manhattan Cafe would never doubt her—she trusted Gotham Song so completely, always protecting her.
Still, Gotham Song wanted to say it out loud.
Not to prove she didn't think like that.
But to tell Manhattan Cafe directly:
I've always thought of us as the closest of sisters.
And yet, in that near-distance stare, the first to move was not Gotham Song but the very Manhattan Cafe who had seemed so down and hurt just moments ago.
Her cousin might wear a cold face most of the time, but inside, her thoughts were often complicated, often warm.
It showed here too—Cafe rarely changed expression much, but in this instant Gotham Song caught it: the faint upward curl of her lips.
What feeling was hidden there?
Indulgence.
"I know, of course. It's just… Song, I'm not that fragile. Only a little… irritated, maybe?
"After all, no matter what, I am a classic-year filly who's won graded stakes. Even if compared to you, there's some gap—"
"There's not some gap compared to me!"
Right then, Gotham Song surged forward with force, as if to wrest away the flow of the conversation entirely—
Toppling the balance her cousin had held.
When Manhattan Cafe found herself pressed onto the bed, she even blinked in mild confusion, like she wasn't sure what had just happened.
…Did Song just push me down?
But what came next was Gotham Song lifting herself off her cousin's back, kneeling with a thump at the bed's edge so they could meet eye to eye.
"I only have the honors I do because this era happens to prize races like the ones I run.
Three thousand meters and under is my true stage, but Café-nee's range of adaptability is even broader than mine. So… I'm only a 'strong one' shaped by the times, while you have strengths greater than mine in plenty of places!"
The words were sly—
And Café could easily see the holes in them.
But looking at that slightly puffed-up, almost pouty little cousin, she suddenly didn't feel like pointing them out.
Maybe it was just like that.
Still… kneeling on the floor like that must be cold, right?
With that thought, Manhattan Cafe rolled over from lying on her stomach to lying flat, turning her gaze toward Gotham Song beside her.
"Sly little sister."
"Hehe, exactly that sly~"
Gotham Song didn't say more.
She simply smiled, then stood, braced her hands on either side of Café-nee, and flopped forward to rest her head against her chest.
What's the point of overexplaining?
The best comfort, the truest way to pass along what she felt, was to just hold her. Gotham Song wasn't about to waste her breath—!
Let the people outside say what they will—that's just their misunderstanding.
And while the internet raged with slander and spite, none of them could possibly imagine that the two at the center of it all were right here, close enough to hear each other's breathing.
After all—being sly is the privilege of the younger sister.
It's not like the older sister can be sly toward the younger one, right?
To be honest, at the very start, Gotham Song hadn't really known how to handle suddenly having people who cared about her unconditionally.
She'd been alone too long.
But after living in Mejiro Manor, after changing her name, after gaining so many people willing to care for her…
With so much warmth offered freely—how could she possibly turn it away?
What, you'd refuse even this kind of fortune? That's like starving to death with meat pies falling from the sky.
So Gotham Song chose to accept it, openly, comfortably—
By reaching back for Café's hand and, in her own roundabout way, pulling that clumsy cousin into an embrace.
There's nothing wrong with that, is there…?
"I'll run in the Arima Kinen."
"But not to prove anything to those people, Song. I just… want to run with you. From this time onward, for as many times as it takes, I'll keep wanting to chase after you. Maybe it's odd for an older sister to chase her younger sister—but even if it's as you say, no matter the field, I won't lose."
Manhattan Cafe, too, was a racehorse girl brimming with pride.
"Hehe—then this thoughtless little sister will have to give it everything she's got in return, Café-nee."
Let's run together—
Even if it's not toward the rising sun, it doesn't matter.
It's enough just to be chasing each other.