Chapter 12

The digital clock above the ticket gates flickered to five-thirty.

A chilly draft swept up from the train tracks below, carrying the sharp scent of steel rails and cold concrete. 

I stood with my back against a tiled pillar near the north exit, burying both hands deep into my coat pockets. 

Around me, the station was filling with the usual evening rush. Commuters in dark coats moved briskly past the turnstiles, their footsteps drumming a steady rhythm across the floor. 

My phone vibrated once in my pocket. 

I pulled it out to check the screen.

*Top Road: I just stepped off the train! I will be at the gate in two minutes!*

I typed a quick reply, telling her I was waiting near the convenience stall, and slipped the phone away.

Meeting here at the station had been her idea. 

When she had texted earlier asking if she could stop by our neighborhood to drop off something, I had offered to let her come by the house. 

She had politely declined within seconds. 

I understood her reasoning completely. 

If Top Road set foot inside our entryway, my mother would instantly drag her into the living room, sit her down at the table, and bury her under a massive dinner. Dad would end up warming up the car to drive her all the way back to the academy dorms. 

By meeting me right outside the ticket gates, she was executing a clean handoff to not "impose" on my family, or so she told me. 

The automatic chime of the turnstiles broke through the ambient noise of the concourse. 

I shifted my gaze toward the barrier. 

A figure in a wool coat and a cream scarf stepped through the gates, tapping her transit card against the sensor. 

A knit beanie covered her ears, and her golden bangs were tucked neatly around her forehead, brushing the edge of her muffler.

She hurried over, her boots clicking lightly against the tiles before coming to a stop two paces away, clutching the handles of a paper shopping bag against her chest.

"Good evening, Shimazu-kun," she said, dipping into a polite bow.

"Good evening," I replied, pulling my hands from my pockets. "You made good time from the academy."

"The train was running right on schedule," she said, her breath rising in a faint mist. 

She held out the paper bag with both hands, extending it toward me with formal posture. 

"This is for your mother," she explained, her voice dipping with genuine modesty. "Traditional confections from Kyoto. I wanted to thank her properly for the advice she gave me through you about the track."

"You really didn't need to buy anything," I said, accepting the handles from her fingers. "She doesn't even know about it yet."

"Even so, it really made a difference on Sunday," Top Road insisted, her sunset eyes brightening. "Please make sure she gets it."

"I will," I said with a faint smile. "Thank you so much, she'll be happy I'm sure."

Top Road flashed a soft laugh too, resting her hands against the pockets of her coat.

The official business was concluded. 

By all logic, this was the moment where she should have turned back toward the platform to catch the return train to the academy. 

Yet she remained standing on the tiles, her boots shifting slightly against the floor. 

Her cheeks were dusted with pink from the evening chill. She looked down at the concrete between us, her fingers fidgeting inside her coat lining.

"Um... Shimazu-kun?" she murmured.

"Yeah?"

She pulled her right hand from her coat pocket, keeping her fingers curled tightly around something small. 

She took half a step forward, extending her palms upward.

Resting against her woolen mittens was a purple brocade pouch woven with golden thread. 

"This one is for you," she said, her voice dropping into a hurried whisper. "It is an amulet from a shrine in Kyoto. For victory."

I stared down at the small square of cloth, my thoughts completely stalling out.

"For me?" I asked, looking from the pouch up to her face.

"Yes," she nodded, her eyes darting away with sudden self-consciousness. "You mentioned that your high school soccer club begins morning practices next month. It is still a bit early, but... I wanted you to have it before your preseason starts."

I reached out, picking up the small fabric pouch between my fingers. 

The silk felt smooth and cool to the touch. 

As I lifted the amulet from her palms, my bare thumb brushed against her exposed fingertips extending from her fingerless mittens.

Her skin was like ice.

A sudden wave of embarrassment washed over my collar. 

Here she was, handing me a thoughtful victory charm from Kyoto, and I was standing in front of her completely empty-handed. I hadn't prepared a single thing to celebrate her victory.

My fingers instinctively dropped into my own coat pockets, searching for anything useful.

My knuckles struck two rectangular plastic packets nestled at the bottom of my lining. 

I pulled them out into the light. 

They were disposable hand warmers, still sealed in their original plastic wrappers. 

Without thinking twice, I reached forward and pressed both packets directly into her freezing palms.

"Here," I said, my words coming out a little faster than usual.

Top Road blinked down at her hands in total bewilderment. "This is...?"

"They don't amount to anything compared to a shrine amulet," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck to distract from the heat rising in my face. "But your fingers are frozen solid. Don't worry, they are brand new. Shake them for a minute and they will warm up."

Top Road stared at the two plastic squares resting in her hands. 

For a second, I worried that I had committed an awkward social blunder by handing disposable convenience store items in exchange for a thoughtful gift.

Then, a bright smile spread across her face, curving her sunset eyes into gentle crescents. 

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice bubbling with quiet delight. 

She broke the outer packaging with her thumbs, sliding the cloth pads between her mittens and shaking them with practiced enthusiasm. 

"They are already getting warm," she said, pressing the pads against her cheeks with a soft hum of satisfaction.

I let out a quiet breath, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders. 

Seeing her happily using my cheap, emergency gift, I couldn't help but wanting to be with her just a little bit longer.

I glanced up toward the flight of stairs leading to the pedestrian overpass above the tracks. 

"There is a vending machine on the bridge," I said, nodding toward the steps. "Do you have ten minutes before your train?"

Her golden ears twitched forward beneath her knit cap. 

"Yes," she said without a single second of hesitation. "I have time."

We walked side by side up the concrete staircase, emerging onto the covered pedestrian bridge that spanned the railway lines. 

The wind blew stronger up here, rustling the plastic banners hung from the railings. Below us, an empty freight train rumbled along the gravel bed, its yellow headlights cutting through the growing dusk.

I walked over to the glowing drink machine, inserted a few coins, and pressed the button for two cans of hot milk tea. 

The metal cylinders dropped into the tray with a heavy clatter. 

I handed one to her, and she wrapped both hands around the warm tin, sighing softly as the heat seeped through her knit mittens once again.

We stepped up to the green metal railing, looking out over the suburban skyline. 

The sun had slipped completely below the horizon, leaving a deep indigo sky bruised with traces of amber along the west. Streetlights were flickering to life across the neighborhood, casting pale reflections against the asphalt roads.

I popped the tab on my can, taking a sip of the milk tea.

"You ran a brilliant race on Sunday," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the evening scenery. "Watching you weaved through the seam on the final stretch was impressive."

"I was terrified," she admitted, smiling down at her can. "When Eishin Cameron-san made her move on the outside, I thought the race was over. But the Three Goddesses showed me the path to the victory and I took it." 

"I'm not really a religious person, so in my eyes, all of it was your effort," I told her. "You observed the opportunity with your own eyes, oriented yourself with the information you gathered, decided on the best course of action with your mind, and acted on your decision with all your might. Those were all you."

"That might've been case, huh?" she said softly.

"Because it was." I said with a swig from the can.

She turned her head to look at me, her golden hair swaying in the draft. 

"Now that the Kisaragi Sho is over, my trainer and I have been discussing what comes next."

"I figured you would rest until April," I remarked. "Your prize money is high enough to qualify a spot in the Satsuki Sho now, right?"

"It is," she agreed, nodding slowly. "On paper, we have enough earnings to qualify. But my trainer believes that waiting two months without an official start might dull my edge."

I tilted my head, curious. "So you're entering another race?"

"The Yayoi Sho," she said, her voice turning completely steady. "At Nakayama, in early March."

I nearly choked on my mouthful of tea. 

I swallowed hard, coughing once into my fist as I stared at her in disbelief.

"The Yayoi Sho?" I repeated. "That is a Grade Two trial. That's where the elite favorites go for their final tune-up before the Triple Crown."

"I know," she replied, her chin lifting with quiet pride. "The top three finishers receive automatic priority entry for the Satsuki Sho. We don't want to rely on fluctuating prize money cutoffs. We want an absolute guarantee."

She paused, looking at me with a hint of nervous hesitation creeping back into her gaze.

"Do you think... that is too reckless of us?" she asked quietly.

I looked at the earnest girl standing beside the railing. 

Shortly after, a low chuckle slipped from my throat. 

"Damn, girl," I murmured, shaking my head in genuine admiration. "I mean, go for it, I guess. I'll be happy just watching you run again sooner than I expected."

Top Road blinked, seemingly processing my blunt reaction, before bursting into a musical laugh that rang crisp and clear against the evening air. 

The sound carried a melodic warmth that made the hairs on my arms prickle, cutting straight through the rumble of the train passing beneath our feet.

"You really have a strange way of cheering people on, Shimazu-kun," she teased, wiping a tiny tear from the corner of her eye.

"It looks like it works, though." I replied smoothly.

"It does," she smiled, leaning her elbows against the railing. "It really does."

We fell into a comfortable silence, watching the commuter trains pull into the platforms below. 

Passengers poured out of the silver doors like water, scattering toward the stairwells, while we stood above the noise in our own quiet pocket of the evening. 

There was no awkwardness in the quiet between us as we enjoyed eachother's company in an arms length.

A sharp chime echoed from the platform speakers below, signaling the arrival of the local train bound for her station.

Top Road straightened her posture, taking a final sip of her tea.

"That is my train," she said, turning toward the stairs with a small sigh. 

"Be careful with the warmers," I advised, gesturing toward her mittens. "It won't be as bad as gangrene, but it's better to keep yourself warm, yeah?"

"Yes, I'll be careful," she promised, cradling the heat packs against her chest like precious stones. 

She stepped toward the stairwell, then paused, turning around to face me one last time beneath the platform lamp. 

The golden light illuminated her face, catching the soft smile resting on her lips.

"See you again, Shimazu-kun," she said, her voice clear and bright against the cold.

"See you," I replied with a steady nod.

She dipped into a quick, respectful bow, spun on her boots, and hurried down the concrete steps to catch her ride.

I lingered on the overpass for a few minutes after she was gone, finishing the sweet tea in my hand. 

The wind picked up, rustling the bare branches of the trees along the station plaza and whistling through the metal railings of the bridge. 

I reached down into the right pocket of my coat. 

My fingers brushed against the smooth silk of the purple amulet, curling securely around the woven fabric. 

It was small, light, and weirdly warm.