Masami found Tamamo at the heart of the Yamanaka Cemetery, staring dully at the tombstone before her. A fresh bouquet of flowers was placed before it, partially obscuring the epitaph etched into the pale stone. "You were always smiling." It read, and though those four words could never truly encapsulate the man they described, those words were all they had left.
Obara Isami
1932 - 1989
Her heart clenched painfully as she glanced at the year of his death. Tamamo's father had passed too soon. The disease that struck him had left his aging body weak, and even with the best Tokyo had to offer, the most they could do was extend his life just enough for him to witness Tamamo's victory at the [Arima Kinen].
If she was religious enough, she could've almost believed that the Three Goddesses themselves had come down to keep him conscious for just a little longer.
But she wasn't, so she'd rather believe that the man had physically fought his ailing body to witness his daughter attain victory at one of the most prestigious races Japan had. Only then did he finally let himself rest.
She took a small breath.
"Tama-chan."
"Hmm?" Tamamo's ears perked slightly, before she turned towards her. "Ah, Komiyama-trainer." She whispered, voice listless and her gaze dull. "What're ya' doin' 'ere?"
Masami forced herself to smile. "To pick you up, of course!" She said, putting on a pout as she grabbed her trainee's shoulders. "You missed out on today's training, dummy!"
"Ah…" Tamamo paused, staring into nothing in particular. It took her several seconds for her to seemingly parse through her thoughts before she nodded. "Mm. S'rry. I forgot, 'ah guess."
Masami's forced smile wobbled. "Tama-chan…"
She silently grit her teeth. She-, she didn't know what was wrong. After she brought Tamamo away from that wrecked indoor gym, Tamamo had been like this. Listless, tired, her thoughts scattered—the bundle of energy she was used to wasn't there. It almost felt like she was watching Tamamo regress day by day, and nothing she tried could bring her trainee back.
It'd even gotten to a point where others began noticing, and they silently expressed their concern to her. Obey Your Master was the most vocal in that regard, looking rather panicked after the last time she and Tamamo met. And considering Obey wasn't one to panic like that, Masami could only worry.
She took a deep breath, and her cheeks began hurting as she forced her smile back up. "If you don't wanna train, it's fine." She forced a grin. "We can always train tomorrow!"
"Hmm." Tamamo hummed, nodding faintly as she finally turned away from the tombstone. "Let's go home, Komiyama-trainer."
Masami subtly wiped her eyes and smiled. "Why don't we have some takoyaki before we go back?"
Silently, Masami prayed. She wasn't pious by any means, but if the Three Goddesses were truly real, then she could only pray that they bring Tamamo back. Her heart felt like it was bleeding the more she watched her trainee remain as this listless, walking husk.
And then–
"Sure."
"We can get it from that place you–" She paused as Tamamo's answer registered in her mind. "Y-You wanna go?" Tamamo stared quietly for a moment before she nodded. And Masami's eyes glittered as genuine excitement burnt in her chest. "T-Then let's go! We gotta go fast before it sells out!"
"But it n'ver sells–" Tamamo's words were cut off when Masami grabbed her hand and began running, her grin wide as tears built in the corner of her eyes. Tamamo stared at her trainer's enthusiasm for a moment, before she quietly sighed and followed along.
.
.
.
Of course, the truth is, Tamamo understood her trainer's worry completely. She knew that this complete 180 from her usual personality had come suddenly, and that her trainer was worried sick.
But she just-, couldn't muster the energy. There was a weakness that pulled on her bones, both physical and spiritual. The end of her True Blooming made her feel horrid; the usual rush of energy that came with every morning just wasn't there anymore, and she was left sweating buckets after each training session.
More than that though was the realization that nothing she did would matter. Oguri Cap and Blossom Star were just too strong; if they ran in this year's [Arima Kinen], she had no hope of winning. And even beyond that, it wasn't even guaranteed that she could measure up to her juniors. Dicta Striker, Super Creek, and Belno Light had shown that they'd already eclipsed her.
Even Obey Your Master, who had been racing for longer, was still capable of running.
What did that leave for her?
And some days, it would take her all her effort to pry herself away from her bed. Some days, the thought of even going outside made her feel physically sick like she was starving, even though she'd eaten way more than she usually would over the past several weeks.
But she always did. She would always wake up, and even if she didn't have the motivation, she would train. Because she knew that her trainer would worry, and she didn't want her to worry even more than she already was.
"Here ya' go!" The man at the takoyaki stall said as he handed over two servings of takoyaki.
"Thanks, jii-san!" Masami said, her enthusiasm almost manic as she fished out her wallet with trembling fingers. "Let me just-, ah-!" Her shakiness caused her to lose grip of her wallet, causing it to tumble down onto the ground. "H-Hold on! Let me just–"
Flash!
A momentary flash of white came, and Tamamo grabbed the wallet before it could hit the ground. "'ere." Tamamo said, handing the wallet back. "Be careful."
Masami blinked in slight confusion, before she shook her head and grinned. "Thank you, Tama-chan!"
Tamamo nodded faintly.
But her trainer wasn't the only reason she still forced herself to wake up.
After that moment when she'd accidentally destroyed their indoor gym, when she'd fallen asleep in her room, she'd encountered him. In the depths of her own mind, she finally met him face-to-face.
Susanoo. A god made from White Lightning, given physical form. The one who had been with her from the very start. The one who had fought with her through every race she'd been in. It was him that had shielded her every time she encountered the Domain of others, and it was him who carved a path forward using his lightning.
And he too understood. The weariness she fought against every time she woke up, whenever she was faced with the fact that she could no longer measure up to the peak she'd tasted in the past. His lightning was no longer as vibrant as before, his armor thinner and more fragile in certain places. There was a gauntness to him that she hadn't really noticed before, but now that she did, she couldn't ignore.
Just like her, he too was weakening. Fading away.
And so, faced with their combined demise, she made one final promise.
This year's [Arima Kinen] was the only chance she had left. Team Kitahara would be leaving for America next year, and since it seemed like neither Oguri or Star could fully handle their Domains yet, this was probably the last chance she could feasibly defeat them in a fair race.
So,
One last Dance. One last Run. A week from now, they would unleash everything they had left. She would charge ahead for one last chance of victory, even if it meant she would no longer be the White Lightning by the end of it.
But that was still a week away. For now–
"Come on, Tama-chan! Let's eat!" Masami said, grinning wide as she handed her the serving of a dozen takoyakis. The bonito flakes covering the takoyaki danced as the steam rose through them.
Tamamo smiled faintly at the familiar scent of fried batter and soy sauce.