The light faded, and the world once again appeared before Dream Weaver's eyes—the sterile white hospital room, the sharp scent of antiseptic hanging in the air, her mother still lying unconscious in the bed.
It was as if nothing had changed at all.
Yet Dream Weaver knew something had been utterly transformed.
She looked down at her palm, now empty and weightless.
The Hope Gem had appeared in this world for less than ten seconds before she had used it.
"It's finally over," she murmured under her breath.
A sense of relief unlike anything she had ever known flooded her heart.
Though she had realized two days ago that her goal was achieved, it was only in this moment that Dream Weaver truly felt sure—she had done it.
After journeying through four script worlds, defeating formidable rivals like T.M. Opera O, Orfevre, Narita Brian, and Shinzan, after winning nine G1-level races and securing consecutive victories in the Tenno Sho in Spring and Autumn along with the Triple Crown honors—she had finally succeeded.
And it had happened even faster than she had anticipated.
Perhaps earning nearly half the required points after completing the second script had spurred her on.
Driven fiercely by her goal, she hadn't rested in the real world at all, only pausing briefly to ease her mental fatigue before diving back into the next script.
If she counted, it might have been less than half a month since her debut race.
And within that half-month, over a week had been spent waiting to register for the Niigata Junior Stakes after finishing her first script mission.
In other words, from her debut until now, she hadn't truly rested for even a full week.
In this near-self-destructive state of strain, Dream Weaver had exchanged for the Hope Gem far sooner than she ever expected.
Now, perhaps she could finally slow down… and allow herself to rest.
Gazing at her mother before her, Dream Weaver felt the last trace of burden lift from her heart.
"So… Mom… when will you wake up?" she whispered, looking at her mother's peaceful sleeping face.
She wasn't worried that the Hope Gem had failed—the system had never let her down in matters like this.
Except for the puzzling fact that everyone in the script worlds also retained their memories, Dream Weaver felt the system had been quite kind to her.
So, facing her still-sleeping mother, Dream Weaver's heart held no shadow—only a quiet sense of anticipation.
Just then, as she watched intently, Dream Weaver noticed a faint tremble in her mother's closed eyelids.
Her heart leapt. Instinctively, she gripped her mother's hand—tightly, like a newborn child clutching anything within reach.
Perhaps she squeezed a little too hard, because her mother's expression tightened slightly in discomfort.
Dream Weaver immediately let go, flustered and unsure what to do. As if to make up for it, she gently brushed her fingertips over her mother's now-reddened palm.
Would pressing it gently help?
The thought had barely formed when a voice—etched deep into her memory—made Dream Weaver's head snap up.
"Dre…am…?"
The voice was dry, as if from long disuse, yet it pierced straight through Dream Weaver's heart without warning.
She scrambled to her feet, so flustered she forgot to reply, her eyes darting around for something to offer her mother.
Even though she had spent all of yesterday thinking of what to say when they reunited, now that the moment was here, Dream Weaver's mind went completely blank—not a single useful word came to mind.
Panicking, she grabbed the water pitcher from the bedside table, about to hand it over as if it alone could quench thirst, before realizing her mistake and fumbling for a cup instead.
With trembling hands, she tried to steady herself as she poured a glass of water.
Something as simple as pouring water took her nearly a full minute in her frantic state.
By the time she finally offered the cup, her mother's newly awakened, bleary eyes had already cleared somewhat.
"Water, here," Dream Weaver managed, never imagining these would be her first words upon seeing her mother again.
It made all her careful rehearsals from yesterday feel laughable.
But more than that, she was focused entirely on her mother's condition.
Noticing it might be awkward to drink lying down, Dream Weaver quickly helped her mother sit up before offering the cup again.
Her mother accepted it without refusal, taking small, slow sips.
Unsure what else to do, Dream Weaver simply stared at her mother's profile, only snapping back to attention when the cup was empty. She reached for the pitcher to refill it.
"That's enough," her mother said softly.
She looked at her daughter—still seeming a bit dazed—and at the changes in her that couldn't be hidden no matter what.
Then she slowly lowered her gaze.
Perhaps it was a mother's intuition.
Though she didn't know what Dream had done, she could feel it: for her sake, for this moment, this child must have endured pain and gritted her teeth through a long, long struggle.
Her hair was a little messy—had she not taken care of it since I fell unconscious?
Her eyes were different too, now holding a familiar steel-like glint, the air of battle.
Her whole presence felt sharp, like a honed blade—she had already been to the battlefield, hadn't she?
And yet, before this, she was just a girl who only ran during gym class. Now, upon meeting again, she had become a warrior even I must regard with respect.
What has she been through?
Training alone—did she get hurt?
Push herself too hard and forget to eat?
Could the money I left in the bank account be enough for her to take care of herself?
At that thought, her mother glanced down at her own hair, noticeably longer now, and quietly clenched the sheets beneath her hands.
No. That money couldn't have lasted this long.
Having reached that conclusion, she looked at Dream Weaver again. She said nothing, yet somehow seemed to understand everything.
"Dream…"
"You've really… really worked hard, haven't you?"
A gentle sentence.
And just like that, it shattered Dream Weaver's defenses.
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.
Only when they wet the corners of her mouth did Dream Weaver realize she was crying.
She hadn't cried before, no matter how strong her opponents were or how difficult the main missions became.
Setting down the pitcher, Dream Weaver tried to wipe the tears away with her sleeve, but no matter how hard she rubbed, they wouldn't stop.
A wave of inexplicable sorrow wrapped around her heart. A sob rose in her throat, rendering her completely speechless.
All she could do was embarrassingly scrub at her endless tears in front of her mother.
But what mother could ever find her daughter embarrassing?
Seeing Dream Weaver crying as if she might wash herself away, her mother opened her arms.
At that, Dream Weaver could hold back no longer.
She threw herself into her mother's embrace, letting her tears and sniffles flow freely against that warm chest, uttering meaningless, muffled whimpers.
And her mother, as she had done countless times before, gently stroked her head, smoothing out the tangled strands of her hair.
"I'm back," her mother said softly.
Pressed against her mother, Dream Weaver let out a muffled reply.
"Welcome back."
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.