So the Eyes accost - and Sunder
˚ʚ [ UMAMUSUME AU — robin & siobhan ] ɞ˚
"All racers have entered their positions at the gate. The favorite for today is No. 3, Robin…"
The view from the gate was unfathomable.
People stretched across the stadium like a streak of Stars, waving their arms and banners and embroidered flags. Its presence dominated the arena entirely, choking out the heat of the afternoon with its own fiery fervor. From the track below, Robin felt impossibly Small—so Fragile and Tender, hollow like birdbone. As if she did not spend the last six months preparing for this race, as if she did not give up so much for this one Chance. Perhaps standing so close to the Sun—to This Sun—had melted her Wings.
She tried not to get overwhelmed. For as nervous as she was, hers was not the only Dream at stake on this turf. Within that sea of fans, that gathering of Wishers, Robin knew that Siobhan was watching—Waiting to meet her at the end of the track. All their time spent training could not go to waste—would not go to waste.
Robin took her position at the gate. The crowd roared with her name, but she could not hear the proper syllables. Instead it blended with the beat of her own Heart, echoing with its rhythm in a sort of Harmony. She took a deep breath and dug her shoes into the turf. Her ears twitched, and her tail flicked behind her.
"All runners ready. 3, 2, 1… Race, start!"
The gates swung open. Robin took off. The turf crumpled beneath her feet as she quickly fell into position. She inhaled the rushing gales and exhaled a Prayer—for Victory. She had promised as much to Siobhan.
"No. 3 Robin takes the lead! She breaks away from the rest of the pack and is currently cruising at first place. Though, No. 10 Origami Bird is not far behind. Then comes No. 14 Clockie Merchandise and No. 7 Halovian Wing. Can Robin maintain her advantage?"
Robin turned the corner. She ran at blistering speed, drunk on the openness of the turf. All Umamusume were born to run, but hers had been a shackled existence up until now. The Family never allowed her to race, much less compete. It broke her heart to leave Penacony, but this was her home, now. The track, the gate, the stage that the audience built for her. She was loath to let go of it—to let go of this Freedom.
Soon, though, she would discover the price to building such a home.
It all began quietly. Nothing more than a brief Sharpness by her ankle, one so easily brushed off. Then it grew with every passing step, each thump of foot against the ground. Pain, hollow and bone-deep, pulsed through her marrow. It was Undeniable—it was Inevitable. She fought against it, but felt everything around her Slow, as if time itself had given out—as if her body itself had given out. She could hear her breathing, how uneven it was.
"Oh… Oh? Robin's slowing down!"
The pain continued to run through her foot and pierce all the way up to her hip. Darkness danced at the corner of her vision, and the Sun that had seemed so blinding before had suddenly dimmed. She could hear people screaming her name, though the rhythm fell off-beat to her Heart's own. She had not realized it, but she had collapsed on the turf. Cheers turned to murmurs, murmurs turned into a horrible ringing in her head. The Sun—the Hot Sun—was all she could see. Had the finish line even been within sight? But she had promised…
"Siobhan…" She muttered weakly, then a bit louder, a bit more desperate, "Siobhan!"
@dreamsyrups
This was it.
Every dawn spent on the track, every aching muscle, every single time Siobhan had watched Robin push herself past exhaustion… It was all for this perfect, fierce start, and when the commentators themselves noted it, Siobhan’s heart hammered against her ribs—not from the nerves, no, but from certainty. Her confidence was a tangible thing. A bright, hot wire thrumming under her skin. She knew this track, knew this race, knew Robin would win because she had mapped every part of this course alongside her. She had begged, even, to borrow the track for a whole day for that purpose.
Today’s victory was theirs. She could feel it in her bones. In the shared energy thrumming along the invisible string that connected her to Robin on the track. She was flying. They were flying.
Until that very string snapped.
It was barely noticeable at first. A tiny misstep, perhaps, that only a few spectators and Siobhan noticed. A stumble where there should have only been a powerful step. Then a loss of rhythm. A misstep. Just a misstep. She’ll correct it.
But Robin doesn’t correct it, and in just a few seconds the once fluid strides became a jarring stumble. Then came the sight of Robin—her Robin, who was born to outrun the shackles that tried to rob her of her freedom—slowing down, faltering, her form collapsing in on itself as everyone else rushed past her.
A raw, wordless sound was torn from her throat as though in response to her partner’s call, already harshly shoving past bodies, politeness burned away by a panic so absolute it was blinding. She vaulted across the barriers, ignored the calls of the umpires telling her to stay afar, her own legs now moving with a desperate, frantic purpose of their own.
Then she was there, crashing to her knees on the turf the moment she reached her. The silence all across the stadium wasn’t imagined, no, but a true, unmistakable weight at the pit of everyone’s stomach, a held breath ten thousand people strong, pressing down on them. The only sounds were the distant, frantic commentary from a speaker and Robin’s own ragged, pained gasps.
“I’m here. Robin, look at me. I’m right here.” She leaned in close, blocking out the sun, the crowd, everything. “Don’t look at the finish line. Don’t look at anything else. Just look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”
She could see the mixture of terror and desperation in Robin’s eyes then. Could feel the defeat that was threatening to swallow her whole. She could hear it, in that quiet whisper of her name, and Siobhan immediately found it difficult to speak, her breath caught in her throat, constricted by the frightening thought of what this all might all mean.
A shattered dream. A promise forever unfulfilled.
“Listen to me,” Siobhan took Robin’s hand in her own. “You were magnificent. You soared. So don’t you worry about anything else but yourself for now, got it?” Reluctantly, she glanced down at the injured leg, her jaw tightening before she forced her gaze back to Robin’s, willing a strength into her expression she didn’t quite entirely feel. A small smile. Broken, afraid, hopeful. As her trainer, as her friend, Siobhan knew she had to stay strong. To appear strong.
The medics moved in with a stretcher and Siobhan, unwilling to part despite their presence, laced her fingers tightly with Robin’s instead.
“I’m coming with her.” Her words were not a request but a firm declaration. Flat and absolute, leaving room for no argument. She kept her eyes locked on Robin’s, voice softening to a whisper meant only for her. “Just keep holding on. I’ve got you.”
And yet, despite her own words, her own promise, uncertainty had begun to settle in her heart.
