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

Normally, this sound would make Shi Yujiu's fingertips go numb and his throat tighten. He would curl up like a small animal.

But now—

Poetry and wine lay quietly with their eyes closed, not asleep.

Before him stood Orihime, who also harbored a slight shyness.

They were so close that they could feel each other's warm breath on their foreheads.

Not to mention that the hand that admired Orihime was still holding her hand at this moment.

The fingers that held poetry and wine loosened their grip on each other's hands little by little.

Although she closed her eyes and pretended to be calm, she was actually still feeling the warmth of Orihime's hand.

Without realizing it, my breathing slowed down.

I don't know how much time has passed.

Time becomes blurred in this small space, leaving only the rhythm of breathing and rain, and the occasional slight movements of the brown-haired girl in front of me.

Ai Mu Shiri turned over.

She adjusted her shoulders slightly, probably because they were a little sore from lying on her side for too long.

Her knee lightly touched Poetry and Wine's knee, then withdrew it.

Poetry and Wine's eyelashes trembled slightly, but she didn't open her eyes, pretending not to notice.

The tent was quiet for a while.

Then she heard the voice of Orihime, who admired her.

Can't sleep?

Poetry and wine did not answer immediately.

She paused, feeling a slight dryness in her throat, and then replied.

"Ah."

"Me too."

Ai Mu Zhi Ji sighed helplessly, making Shi Yu Jiu's face itch.

"No sighing allowed."

Poetry and wine uttered a faint, melodious sound.

The tent was quiet for a while.

The sound of rain was still there, but it had lessened a bit.

"Jiusang."

Ai Musou spoke again, but this time her tone became hesitant.

"what happened?"

After a moment of silence, Ai Musashi finally voiced her doubts.

Are you afraid of the rain?

Poetry and Wine's body stiffened slightly. She didn't speak, but simply opened her eyes a crack, just as her beloved Orihime opposite her opened her eyes as well.

Two pairs of eyes met awkwardly.

Poetry and wine could only quietly close their eyes and pretend that nothing had happened.

After a moment of contemplation, Shi Yu Jiu struggled with whether or not to answer the question about his love for Orihime.

'No.'

She initially intended to answer that way, but she swallowed the words back down.

He had just been trembling, his face was pale, and his fingers were curled up until his knuckles turned white. It's highly likely that Orihime saw all of that.

"...I guess so."

Poetry and wine could only helplessly admit it in the end.

Orihime, who admired him, did not pursue the matter further.

She merely tightened her grip on the poetry and wine for a moment, and then said nothing more.

Poetry and wine stirred in his throat.

She had prepared a prepared explanation, so if the other party continued to press her, she would evade the question by saying "it happened when I was a child," or simply say "I don't want to talk about it."

But the fact that Orihime didn't reciprocate her feelings left her even more at a loss than being questioned.

The tent fell silent again.

The sound of rain grew fainter. The last few drops landed on the tarpaulin, making a soft, scattered sound, and then it stopped.

The mountaintop fell silent again, with only the occasional chirping of insects drifting slowly into the night.

Poetry and Wine sensed that the brown-haired girl in front of them had slowed her breathing.

Is Orihime falling asleep?

The poetry and the wine remained unmoved.

She lay quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

But as the other person's breathing gradually slowed down, his own consciousness began to blur.

The events of the day flashed by frame by frame on the edge of my blurred consciousness—

The road up the mountain.

I didn't bring an umbrella.

He pursued Orihime, whom he admired, on the rocky slope.

fall.

He was pulled back.

Iodine tincture.

rain.

starry sky.

sleeping bag.

And this hand holding hers.

I don't know how much time has passed.

Sleepiness washed over her from all directions, like a tide, layer upon layer, engulfing her consciousness.

Just as she was about to sink completely, she heard a similarly indistinct voice.

"Let's go back together tomorrow."

Poetry and Wine's lips twitched slightly.

For some reason, she felt like laughing.

But she was too sleepy to smile; the corners of her mouth only curved into a very shallow arc before flattening out again.

"Ah."

She responded, then closed her eyes, letting endless drowsiness engulf her.

……

When I woke up, it was already daylight.

The morning sunlight shone through the gaps in the tent's zipper, casting a warm glow on the inner walls of the tent, giving them a light green hue.

Poetry and Wine opened their eyes somewhat bewildered.

Then the first thing she realized was that her body was in a rather strange place.

She was stunned for a moment, then slowly came to her senses.

Sleeping bag, tent, mountaintop—last night's events unfolded frame by frame from my memory.

Poetry and Wine glanced down at their hands.

My hands are empty.

A little warmth remained in her palm, but the hand that had been holding hers was gone.

There was no one around me.

The other half of the sleeping bag was collapsed, and there was a shallow crease on the fleece lining, indicating that Aimo Orihime had indeed lain there, but she had gotten up now.

Poetry and wine slowly turned their heads away.

The zipper at the tent opening was half-open, and the morning air rushed in through the opening, carrying the scent of damp earth after the rain.

At this moment, Ai Mu was sitting at the entrance of the tent with her back to her.

The other person was looking down, stuffing something into their backpack.

She folded, pressed, and stuffed the items one by one, as if she had done it countless times before.

The morning light streamed in from behind her, outlining her silhouette with a pale golden edge.

At this moment, Orihime's brown hair was loose, not tied up, and hung down on her shoulders and back.

The ends of her hair were slightly curled, probably from sleeping overnight and being covered by the fleece of her sleeping bag.

She looked at the poems and wine for a while, then slowly sat up, supporting herself on her elbows.

The movement aggravated the chafing on the outside of her arm, causing a dull ache. It was much better than last night, but it still reminded her of its presence when she exerted herself.

The adoring Orihime, who was tidying up her things, heard the commotion and turned to look at Poetry and Wine.

The morning light fell on her profile, making her purple eyes appear lighter.

"woke up."

"I admire Orihime," she said as she tidied up her things.

Poetry and Wine nodded.

She didn't speak immediately, but instead pulled her legs out of the sleeping bag first.

Protagonist: Chapter 311 Wow

While enjoying poetry and wine, he glanced down at his own state.

There were still mud stains on my trouser legs from yesterday's fall, which had dried and turned into grayish-brown patches.

The bandage on my calf was still on, the edges of the gauze were slightly rolled up, and there was a faint red mark on the skin underneath.

She unzipped her sleeping bag, climbed out, and stood up.

My body is still a bit stiff. My lower back and shoulders are sore, probably a side effect of lying on my side all night.

After standing up straight, Shi Yujiu raised his arm and felt a slight cracking sound from his joint, then moved his neck.

"What time is it?"

"A little past six."

Ai Mushi lowered her head to fasten the clasp on her backpack, then raised her chin slightly, gesturing towards the outside of the tent.

"The sun has just come up."

Poetry and Wine walked to the tent entrance, unzipped it, and glanced outside.

The mountaintop looks completely different in the morning sunlight.

When I arrived yesterday evening, the place was mostly a cool gray-blue color scheme.

The rocky slopes, withered trees, and weeds were all weighed down by the twilight and dark clouds.

But now—the sunlight streams in from behind the eastern ridge, bathing the entire mountaintop in a soft, warm hue.

The ground was wet, and water droplets clung to the blades of grass, glistening in the light like shards of broken glass.