"Hey!" Bao called out to the girl. The woman came to a complete stop at the sound of her voice. She was drenched in sweat and effort, panting desperately for air. Her black wavy hair bounced with every step.
"What is it?" she said rather bluntly, but classic Bao didn't even take a second glance at her cold tone, offering a rectangular snack wrapped in poorly done paper.
"Want one? Haru made it. It's called a protein bar or something—" She took a second, looking down at Bao's offering hand before nodding.
The two sat along the side of the track, watching how far it stretched out and the seats that circled around them—seats soon to be filled with nobles and merchants.
The light sun hit the red-dyed granite with its own shade of orange. The warm color spread out throughout the field as the cold breeze of the night began to set in, more and more as the sun fell behind the stadium.
"You nervous?" Rin asked again, her voice softer this time, almost like she was trying to coax the answer out gently.
Bao flinched at the sudden question, the words hitting a little harder than she expected. She hesitated, biting her lower lip. Slowly, she nodded, but her fingers twisted the edge of the paper wrapper in her hands, betraying the calm she tried to wear.
Her breath caught, and she brought her hands up to rest over her heart, feeling it pound wildly beneath her palms—like it might break free and run before her.
"Yeah," she murmured, eyes drifting down to the cracked surface of the track beneath them, "there's just… too much at stake for me right now."
"I get that…" the girl muttered, her voice low, like she wasn't sure if she meant to say it out loud.
Bao glanced at her. "You do?"
The girl didn't look away from the track. "You don't train till your legs give out unless you've got something chasing you."
There was a silence again—not awkward, but heavy. Bao didn't press her. She just sat there, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the paper wrap from the protein bar.
"Name's Rin, by the way," the girl finally said, unwrapping the snack. "I figured if you're gonna watch me die on the track tomorrow, you might as well know what to shout when I collapse."
Bao let out a soft laugh. "I'm Bao. And I think I'll be too busy trying not to trip over myself to worry about anyone else."
"Mm. First-timer jitters." Rin took a bite, paused, then gave a thoughtful grunt. "This isn't bad. Kinda tastes like regret and peanuts."
Bao looked at her. "That's… surprisingly accurate."
They both chuckled quietly.
Rin leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. "So, what's at stake for you?"
Bao was quiet for a long moment. She didn't want to say it. Saying it made it real. Saying it meant it could all go wrong.
"My café," she said eventually. "We set up a stand just outside the venue. If I do well… people will notice. We might finally break even."
Rin turned her head slightly. "You're racing for a café?"
"Yup! It's a work in progress but we're trying to get a name for ourselves. Maybe… this'll be it—" Bao's voice died down, her knees curling further up into her chest. "We've been struggling for so long, and now we're on the verge of closing down without this."
"But hey, if we win you should visit us sometime!" Bao cheered. "I'll get Haru to make some special dish just for you! He's surprisingly good!"
Rin watched thoughtfully, a soft smile spreading across her face.
"You're weird," she said bluntly.
Bao blinked. "Huh?"
"You're about to race in front of the most judgmental people on the continent," Rin said, sitting upright again. "And your biggest concern is whether your café survives, and what dish some guy named Haru is gonna make me after."
Rin let out a breath that might've been a laugh, or maybe just exhaustion. "I think I envy that."
Bao tilted her head. "Why?"
"Nothing, just a feeling…"
As she spoke, her eyes caught on a short-looking man. He was rather unappealing—his bald head framed by rings of loose hair, and glasses that didn't match his face. Her smile faltered slightly as she stood up, causing Bao to raise her head with her.
"What's wrong?" she pondered.
"I gotta go here. I'll see you tomorrow, kay?" She waved slightly. Bao smiled and waved back at her.
She watched on as Rin disappeared away from the tracks, standing up and stretching herself.
"I should probably get to practicing…" she said to herself, getting onto the track and starting her shakeout run.
And from afar, I watched the whole thing, in the stands, leaning against the rails.
I tightened my grip on the railing, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the empty seats.
Rin's eyes had flicked toward that man just before she stood, and something about her expression hadn't sat right with me…
Something about that man worried me.
Bao looked different down there. Not just smaller—so much smaller than the girl she was talking to—but… brighter. Like a match flickering in a storm. I'd seen her laugh before, sure, but this? This was something else. That bounce in her voice, the way her shoulders relaxed when she smiled—it caught me off guard.
I shifted my weight against the rail, arms crossed, watching her jog awkwardly back toward the track, muttering something under her breath about stretches and stamina.
"Man, it made all those days of training her for this worth it!" I gasped, my voice filled with exasperation. "Seriously… getting her to wake up early was a nightmare."
"Never again! Nope, not me!" I waved dismissively to my own comments. Though we've known each other for a mere month, give or take a few days, I couldn't tell if what I just said was true or not…
Maybe I would do it again… if given the chance.