Mr. C.B. stood frozen in place, mouth slightly open.
Wu You's movements were simply too light and fluid. The motion itself wasn't small, yet the coat draped over his shoulders always seemed to settle perfectly at the very moment it should have slipped.
Elegant. Far too elegant.
The way he moved was uncannily close to the running aesthetic she pursued—free, effortless, seamless.
"Do you want your hat back or not?" Wu You's amused chuckle snapped her out of it.
"Th-thank you." Mr. C.B. hurried over and accepted the hat with both hands.
She lowered her head a little, studying Wu You. For some reason, she pressed her lips together.
What is this…? Why do I feel this strange impulse…?
Like… like something familiar—something that Uma Musume are instinctively drawn to…
What was it?
Wu You tilted his head up, "looking" toward the Uma Musume in front of him.
As expected… she's huge.
Do not misunderstand.
Mr. C.B. did have an impressive chest, but that was not what Wu You meant.
Uma Musume, by nature, had physiques and strength far beyond humans. Even the smaller ones stood out in a crowd. And the bigger ones could be a full head taller than a vending machine.
Mr. C.B. clearly belonged to the latter.
Even at 178 cm, Wu You only came up to about her chest.
The pressure was substantial.
Wu You's nostrils flared slightly. Smiling, he said, "Ah, so it's Mr. C.B., huh. You ran well just now."
He hasn't opened his eyes once, has he?
Mr. C.B. couldn't help thinking that.
"You know me?"
"I could tell by your scent."
"Eep!"
Mr. C.B.'s cheeks flushed as she shuffled backward several steps. She raised an arm and sniffed under it.
She had sweated, sure, but she'd used deodorant—how could there be any smell?
No, wait. Can someone really identify a person by scent in the first place?
An immature suspicion surfaced in her mind.
"You're not… a pervert, are you?"
If Wu You could see, he would have been greeted by the full force of her wary stare.
He paused, then laughed in helpless disbelief. "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm blind, so my other senses are sharp."
Mr. C.B.'s mouth twitched.
Yeah right. A normal person wouldn't be able to move like that.
Wu You nodded slightly. Even with his eyes closed, he made her feel as though she were being appraised.
"You've got the faint steam of sweat on you, and a citrus lemon note from deodorant. But the grass scent unique to the track can't be covered up. That means you just ran a qualifier."
What he didn't say was the most decisive part: he could also smell the "high" that only a winner carried.
Like a certain stubborn boy who could sniff out emotion, Wu You could smell feelings too.
Because he was a spirit.
Naturally, he was not going to say that out loud. That would be far too strange.
Mr. C.B. was so surprised she couldn't speak.
What is this guy?
How can he calmly analyze the way she smells?
And worse—he actually made sense.
Sweat and deodorant aside, the grass and soil notes were almost imperceptible.
Yet he noticed them with ease.
She'd heard that when a person loses sight, other senses can improve dramatically.
No wonder he could "catch" her hat with his cane even in the wind.
Still…
Mr. C.B. couldn't help laughing. "Heh… you really are a pervert."
Wu You shrugged, sounding resigned. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Since he'd helped retrieve her hat, Mr. C.B. decided to treat him to a drink as thanks.
They walked to a vending machine in the courtyard.
"What do you want? Coffee?"
"I don't like bitter. Cola, please. Thanks."
Mr. C.B. bought two cans and handed the cola to Wu You.
The sun was setting, bathing all of Tracen in a faintly intimate gold.
Wu You sat on a nearby bench, the black mobility cane resting against him.
Laughter rose and fell in waves—Uma Musume heading home after school.
Wu You wore a quiet smile, "watching" with stillness.
Mr. C.B. stood beside the bench, sipping her coffee while studying this strangely composed young man.
He really was handsome—not just striking, but with a softness that made people want to draw closer.
And she kept feeling there was something odd about him.
A scent no Uma Musume could resist—something that made her instincts want to reach for more.
What was it?
"So… you're a rookie trainer too, right?" Mr. C.B. asked abruptly.
Wu You took a sip of cola and nodded. "More or less."
"More or less?"
This time, Wu You only smiled and didn't answer.
Mr. C.B. sensibly switched topics. "Have you found a suitable Uma Musume yet?"
"And you—have you found a suitable trainer?"
"Not. At. All."
Mr. C.B. shook her head, then shrugged. Her voice still sounded relaxed, though.
"Ah, fellow sufferers." Wu You copied her gesture and even mimicked her tone.
They shared a knowing smile, then fell into a comfortable silence.
Wu You did not ask Mr. C.B. to sign with him.
Because he understood: she would not agree right now.
A lie might be convincing enough to fool the eyes, but scent and tiny instinctive movements never lied.
And the scent she was giving off made her answer obvious. There was no reason to embarrass himself.
When their drinks were finished, Wu You prepared to leave. There were no more qualifiers worth watching today.
"It's getting late. I'll be going, then. Thanks for the drink, Mr. C.B."
"Sure. I hope the next time we meet, you'll have found your partner Uma Musume."
"Oh? Then I'll take that good luck."
Wu You stood, cane in hand, and walked off.
Watching him use the cane more like a gentleman's walking stick only made Mr. C.B. even more suspicious about whether he was truly blind.
"By the way, Mr. C.B." Wu You suddenly stopped and turned, "looking" back at her. "About your running style—"
Crack.
Mr. C.B.'s hand clenched so hard she nearly crushed the can.
Her eyes lowered. "What, you want me to change how I run too?"
Compared to her earlier warmth, there was now distance in her voice—cool, guarded.
It's always this.
They always say I should change my style and I'll win major races, that even Grade 1 will be easy…
But are those races really that important?
She just wanted to run her way.
"Not at all."
"…What?"
Mr. C.B. snapped her head up, eyes widening slightly.
The young man stood half-turned toward her, smiling as if he could truly see her.
The last light of the sun traced warm outlines over him—bright and gentle.
She couldn't look away.
"I only want to say… someday, let me see your real running."
"…"
Mr. C.B. opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Wu You gave a small nod and turned away.
By the time his figure vanished completely, Mr. C.B. finally recovered.
She finished her coffee in one go, then flicked the empty can toward the trash bin behind her with casual flair.
"Wu You, huh… heh. Interesting man!"
Clang.
"Mr. C.B.! You can't litter!"
"Ah, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to!"
-------
My : pat*eon*com/RuneA
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