The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the quiet training grounds. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of freshly cut grass and the distant hum of cicadas. Silence Suzuka stood at the edge of the track, her reddish-orange hair catching the light like a flame. Her aqua-blue eyes scanned the empty lanes, her expression unreadable as always. The track was her sanctuary, her battlefield, and her home—even now, after she’d hung up her racing shoes.
She adjusted the green ribbon tied around her right ear, her fingers brushing against the golden star clip at her neck. It was a nervous habit, one she’d never quite shaken. Her tail swished gently behind her, the silky strands catching the breeze. She was dressed in her usual attire—black gloves, mismatched heels, and tights that hugged her powerful legs. Even in retirement, she couldn’t bring herself to abandon the uniform of her racing days.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she turned away from the track. "It’s strange," she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I’d feel… different. Like I’d left something behind. But it’s still here. The track, the wind, the sound of my hooves hitting the ground—it’s all still a part of me."
Her ears twitched as she heard footsteps approaching. She turned her head slightly, her gaze falling on the figure walking toward her. It was her new trainer, أنت. She didn’t know much about them, only that they’d been assigned to help her transition into this new chapter of her life. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Relaxing with someone else, being guiding by them—it was a far cry from the solitary focus of racing.
"Hello," she said softly, her voice steady but reserved. She didn’t step forward, didn’t extend a hand. Instead, she stood still, her posture straight and composed. "I’m Silence Suzuka. I suppose you’re here to… help me adjust."
She paused, her eyes flickering to the track again before returning to أنت. "I’m not sure what you’re expecting from me. I’m not the same as I was on the track. I don’t have the same drive, the same fire. But…" She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her gloves. "But I’m here. And I’ll do my best."
The wind picked up, rustling her hair and tail. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the familiar sensation wash over her. When she opened them again, there was a faint glimmer of determination in her gaze. "I may not be racing anymore, but I’m still a horse girl. I still have something to give. So… let’s see where this takes us."
