Horse Girl, Your Friend is Fighting Her Way Out of the Horse Racing Track

I came all the way from Tokyo today just to see this.

I didn't regret my choice of poetry or wine.

The voices from the stands surged in waves.

She sat in the crowd and suddenly felt a little lost.

She didn't brush away the stray hair; instead, she lowered her head, her fingers gently stroking the edge of her backpack strap, waiting to figure out what to do next.

The Shinkansen train for the return trip departs at 6 PM.

Poetry and Wine stood at the entrance of the racecourse for a while, checked the time on his phone, then slung his bag over his shoulder and walked toward the nearest bus stop.

It was a bit darker than when we arrived.

The clouds thickened, obscuring the last vestiges of the sunset's color, leaving only a uniform gray-white blanket pressing down on the city, like a faded old cloth.

The streetlights came on, casting an orange glow on the damp ground, and more and more pedestrians appeared on the street.

Some spectators were leaving the racecourse, walking in twos and threes, still discussing today's race. Others were ordinary people passing by on their way home from get off work, carrying bags or pushing bicycles, each going their own way, and no one noticed each other.

Poetry and wine mingled in the crowd, neither speaking nor thinking.

'never mind.'

She thought to herself with a hint of helplessness.

'Orihime will handle her own feelings.'

The bus stopped at the station, the doors opened, and a stuffy, warm smell mixed with the heat from the heater rushed out.

Poetry and Wine boarded the bus, found a window seat, put their backpacks on their laps, rested their heads against the glass, and watched the street scene outside the window recede little by little.

Streetlights, signs, the glow of convenience stores, bicycles stopped at intersections waiting for the red light—all flowed past her field of vision, but none of them were what she was looking at.

People were talking in hushed tones in the carriage, children were asleep leaning against adults, some were wearing headphones and looking at their phones, and occasionally let out a soft laugh.

He didn't listen to anything about poetry or wine.

'But the way she looks...'

She still couldn't stop thinking about her feelings for Orihime.

The windowpane was icy, and there was a slight chill against my face. Poetry and wine didn't move away, but chose to lean against it quietly, waiting for the Shinkansen station to arrive.

The black-haired girl's cheek bounced slightly as the glass pressed against it.

'She'll handle it herself.'

She thought to herself.

After pausing for a while, I thought again:

'But what if we can't handle it?'

She didn't dwell on the thought; she simply let it linger there, silent along with the receding street scene outside the window.

The Shinkansen train departs at 7:00 PM sharp.

Poetry and Wine arrived at the platform ten minutes early, found their respective carriage seats, and waited.

The wind on the platform was stronger than outside, blowing in through the openings at both ends and tousling her stray hair.

The girl tried to press it down with her hand, but couldn't.

The bus arrived, she found her seat, sat down by the window, put her backpack on her lap, and then did nothing but sit quietly.

People boarded the train one after another, and the seats gradually filled up.

The doors closed, the names of the starting and ending stations were announced over the loudspeaker, and then the train started moving.

The platform glides past the window, the city's silhouette recedes into the twilight, and the lights gradually illuminate, connecting into lines and then into patches.

Poetry and wine while gazing out the window.

'Eh...'

She remembered how Orihime turned around and followed the staff after the announcement.

Poetry and Wine lowered her head, looking at her hands resting on her backpack. Her fingers unconsciously rubbed the edge of the bag strap, then stopped after a couple of rubs.

'Maybe she's alright now.'

The black-haired girl pondered listlessly.

'But her personality isn't much better either...'

She went over the thought in her mind and felt a little empty.

Someone in the carriage was making a quiet phone call; the sound was so low and intermittent that the content was difficult to discern. (Poetry)

Yu Jiu looked up and glanced out the window. Her blurry profile was reflected in the windowpane. She looked at it for a moment, then looked away.

'never mind.'

'Go back and check on the situation.'

She leaned her head back in the chair, closed her eyes, and listened to the rhythmic sound of the wheels and the rails, letting time pass by.

……

It was almost nine o'clock in the evening when I got back to the school.

The dormitory corridor was lit up, and occasionally the sound of a door opening and closing could be heard, followed by footsteps fading into the distance, and then silence again.

Poetry and wine come up the stairs, walk through the corridor, and stop at the door of their own room to take out their keys.

"clatter."

The key made a slight sound when it touched the lock.

"Clap."

Just then, she heard a noise behind her.

Footsteps came from behind me.

She glanced back.

'who?'

He admires Orihime.

The brown-haired girl had just come out of the stairwell, carrying a small mesh bag in one hand containing toiletries; the shampoo bottle reflected the light.

Her hair was loose, not tied up, and the ends were still a little wet, curling slightly outwards.

After changing into casual clothes, the tension from the competition dissipated, leaving only a somewhat tired girl.

She walked into the corridor, looked up, and her eyes met those of Poetry and Wine.

Both of them stopped.

The corridor was quiet, with very low music coming from a room in the distance, but the song was indistinct through the door.

Poetry and wine looked at her.

His expression remained calm, without any change in mood.

Her gaze lingered on the poetry and wine for a few seconds.

Then she slightly shifted her gaze to the wall beside her and whispered:

"I'm back."

After saying this, Orihime quickened her pace slightly.

She strode to her room door, inserted the key into the lock, pushed the door open, and went inside.

Main character: Leave request

After watching a scary movie today, I couldn't resist the urge to summon a ghost, but I ended up being killed by it. Now I'm trying to talk to the ghost about whether it can write my novel. The ghost said it would be better to make up for today's update tomorrow and see if it can update more. I'll try my best to get it to update five or six more times.

What to do if you want to pursue someone?

Wear loose clothing and tighten the laces of your soft-soled running shoes. If it's a complex environment, familiarize yourself with the terrain beforehand so you can take shortcuts and catch up more easily. If it's an open field, then it's all about raw power. Drink plenty of Red Bull and fast-charging beforehand, and give it your all to catch up!

Main character: Chapter 300 Something's Up

The door to the dormitory where Ai Mushi lived closed very quietly, with a clean and crisp "click".

Poetry and Wine stood still, watching the closed door without moving.

The corridor returned to silence.

'They escaped?'

Poetry and wine didn't seem out of the ordinary, after all, she knew well the personality of those who admired Orihime.

She stood there for a while, still clutching her room key in her hand.

Should I knock on the door?

She looked at the door, feeling conflicted.

'Never mind. She just got back today; she must be very tired.'

Besides, even if I went there, what could I say?

She thought about it and realized that she really didn't know what to say.

Saying it's okay? That there will be another chance next time? She's not suited to say these things. It would be more appropriate for Tian Lu to say them.

Poetry and Wine lowered their heads, inserted the key into the lock, turned the doorknob, and went inside.

The room was dark, and she didn't turn on the light immediately. Instead, she put her backpack on a chair and sat down on the edge of the bed for a while.

The streetlights outside the window let in a soft glow, which fell on the floor and spread out quietly.

……

The next day, Shi and Jiu went to class, and the seat for Ai-Hime was empty.

She stared at the empty seat for a while without saying anything.

That position was two rows diagonally behind her.

By the window, the winter sun shines through the glass and falls on the empty table, casting a pale patch of light.

There was nothing on the table—no schoolbag, no textbooks.

Poetry and Wine turned their gaze back, opened their textbooks, and no longer looked in that direction.

After morning self-study, Chengtian Road circled back from in front of the podium.

She paused for a moment as she passed the seats for poetry and wine in the aisle.

Narita looked down curiously at the empty seat where Aigumi sat, then glanced at Poetry and Wine, said nothing, and continued walking forward.

……

After her morning classes ended, she got her food at the cafeteria and found a corner seat to sit down by herself.

The cafeteria was bustling, especially at lunchtime. A cacophony of voices filled the space.

Poetry and Wine sat in the corner, head down, eating slowly, bite by bite, lost in thought.

"Jiusang——!"

A crisp, bright voice stood out clearly amidst the noise of the cafeteria, landing precisely in her ears.

Poetry and Wine looked up in surprise upon hearing this.

Narita was standing directly opposite her, holding a tray, his golden hair gleaming warmly under the light.

The girl wore a gentle smile, her purplish-gold eyes crinkling into crescents. She tilted her head slightly, looking at her with an expression that seemed to ask, "May I sit here?"

But she had already casually hooked the chair out with her foot.

"sit down."

Poetry and Wine swallowed the food in his mouth and looked at Naritaji with a calm expression.

Narita sat down, placed the tray on the table, picked up his chopsticks, but did not eat immediately.