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The Tracen Academy training room lay in its usual half-darkness, the only light spilling from the glow of a computer monitor. Agnes Tachyon stood in her white lab coat, fingers tapping at the keyboard with restless precision. The injury to her foot had pulled her from the track, but her spirit remained unbroken—a quiet, stubborn hum beneath the stillness.
In the shadows nearby, Manhattan Cafe cradled a coffee cup between her palms, taking slow, deliberate sips. The faint bitterness of the brew lingered in the air. She waited a few seconds, then murmured, "Tachyon..."
The horse-girl's ears twitched, swiveling toward her companion.
"Happy birthday," Manhattan Cafe said, her voice flat and indifferent as always.
Tachyon kept typing, eyes fixed on the screen. Then her fingers paused. Slowly, she turned her head toward Cafe. "Wait... it's my birthday?"
Manhattan Cafe took a long sip before answering with a single, conclusive "Yes."
Tachyon scratched at her hair, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. "Oh, well. Thank you," she said cheerfully, already resuming her tapping on the keyboard.
"You know, Tachyon," Cafe said, her voice drifting through the dim room, "normally, on birthdays, the person goes out to receive presents, music, a party." She paused. "I don't like it. I prefer the silence."
Tachyon let out a small laugh. "That was for the Agnes of the past. Today, I have far too much data to review."
The door burst open with a sudden kick. Daiwa Scarlet strode in, cradling a cake in her arms, her pigtails bouncing beneath her tiara. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY! TACHYON!" she shouted, beaming. "I asked Hishi Akebono to help put it together!"
Manhattan Cafe inhaled softly, her gaze lowering to her cup. "It smells good. It smells like chocolate. And chocolate," she added, taking another sip, "goes excellently with coffee."
Daiwa carried the cake closer and set it down on the desk, right beside Tachyon. "Your foot still hurts, doesn't it?" she asked, concern softening her voice.
Tachyon stopped typing and looked at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Don't worry. My foot is just on vacation."
Daiwa wrapped her arms around Agnes in a tender embrace, full of quiet support. She pressed a small kiss to Tachyon's cheek. "If you ever need to talk to me, I'll always be available."
Tachyon hugged her back, her hands hidden inside the long sleeves of her lab coat. Then Daiwa pulled away, quickly brushing the few tears from her eyes.
"Anyway, I have to get to training. If I don't show up early, Vodka will steal all the best weights for herself." She strode toward the door, her energy returning in full. "Goodbye, Tachyon! Goodbye, Cafe!"
The door stayed open behind her.
Manhattan Cafe, still seated in the shadows, murmured, "It's like watching a daughter comfort a father," and took another sip of coffee.
Tachyon pulled out a small spoon—the kind she usually reserved for her experiments—scooped up a bite of cake, and chewed slowly. She savored it, letting the rich flavor settle on her tongue. Her horse tail lifted and stiffened in unmistakable approval. "It's exquisite!" she said, smiling. "Hey, Manhattan. Want some? I could add a certain liquid I was experimenting with yesterday—it would make the cake expand. More slices for everyone."
Manhattan answered flatly, "Perhaps you should share it with someone else..." She tilted her head in a subtle gesture toward the window.
Agnes Tachyon rose slowly and walked over to the nearest pane of glass.
Outside, beneath a tree, she spotted Jungle Pocket. The other horse-girl held a small box in her hands, shifting her weight from left to right, impatient and faintly flushed.
Jungle Pocket stood beneath the tree and let out a sigh. "What am I even thinking?" she muttered to herself. "She's injured. She won't just show up like this... I have to go myself." But her legs trembled beneath her. "Why am I so scared? I've seen Tachyon before... I've even kissed her..."
"Is that for me?" A voice drifted toward her, followed by a long, amused laugh. "What a lovely detail, Pocket-kun."
Jungle swallowed hard and turned around. Agnes stood there, leaning on a crutch. "There's cake," Tachyon said lightly. "Lots of cake. And I happen to have two spoons, so—"
Jungle dropped the box. She lunged forward, wrapped her arms tightly around Tachyon, and pressed her lips against hers. They tumbled together onto the soft grass. For a long moment, neither pulled away. Tachyon matched her rhythm, their tongues moving in quiet, knowing tandem—a kiss that spoke of something deep, something already long understood between them.
Pocket finally stopped and slowly drew back. A thin strand of saliva stretched between their lips before breaking. "I'm sorry," Jungle said, breath uneven. "I didn't want... I didn't want you to have to come out like this. I'm an idiot. I'm no good at this."
Tachyon lifted a hand and gently stroked Jungle's hair. "Show me your gift," she said, her voice calm—far from her usual frenetic energy, a tone she reserved only for Jungle.
Pocket got to her feet, helped Tachyon stand, and handed her the crutch. Then she bent down, picked up the small box, and held it out.
Agnes tilted her head. "Yes, I do!" she exclaimed with a teasing grin.
Jungle's voice shot up into a shrill squawk. "NO! NO 'I DO'! IT'S NOT A RING! YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME SO MAD!"
She let out a long breath, steadied herself, and opened the box. Inside lay a gleaming necklace—the very same lucky charm Jungle Pocket always wore during her races. "For you..." she said, looking away.
Tachyon's cheeks flushed. Her eyes widened with genuine surprise at the sight of something so personal, so distinctly Pocket's, now offered as a gift.
Tachyon took the gift in her hands. "No... I don't know what to say," she murmured.
Jungle slipped the small box into her pocket. With careful hands, she helped fasten the lucky charm around Tachyon's neck, letting it rest there against her collarbone.
Tachyon smiled, and a few tears slipped free. She remembered the days when she used to race against Jungle—days that now belonged only to memory. Pocket pulled her close, holding her steady. "I love you..." she whispered, her grip tightening. "You're always there for my most important races..."
Tachyon wept quietly for a few minutes, letting everything go against Jungle's shoulder. Then she straightened up. Pocket reached out and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Let's go get that cake."
Tachyon nodded.
---
While training carried on in the distance, Jungle and Tachyon sat together on a bench, eating the delicious birthday cake. Behind them, their tails swayed with quiet happiness—until, in a gesture of deep connection and loyalty, their tails intertwined, weaving together on the most special day of Agnes Tachyon's life.