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Benny’s feet pound against the turf, ears flicking as they’re filled with the noise of cheering and the crackling voices of the announcers. Her shins are burning with exertion, sweat dripping down from her hair and her eyes shielded only by her sunglasses. Her gaze remains focused only on the track in front of her, currently unthreatened by any Umas on either side. Don’t get comfortable, the small version of her trainer that lives in her brain scolds. Everyone else wants this just as bad as you do.
“And that’s Risky Runaway positioned on the inside, in the lead by 1 length. 600 meters remain,” the overhead speaker drones.
They certainly do want it. It doesn’t mean she’ll give any of them a chance to get it. Benny grits her teeth and leans forward, trying to focus more on swinging her arms than the strain in her legs. It’s a small tip her trainer found, allowing the instinctual matched pace of her running to do its job pushing her even further. There’s a single flash of a cream colored outfit in her peripheral, but she pays it no attention as she simply keeps moving.
“Risky Runaway simply will not concede her position, in the lead by 2 lengths. 400 meters left.”
Two hundred is the mark when that little energy she has left can be spent in full, pace speeding up even faster as the crowd roars. The Uma who had just barely managed to get closer is further back now, and the finish line is finally in her sights, the green banner of the Satsuki Sho coloring the line marker.
It’s a longer race than she used to be comfortable with, sticking firmly to her sprints and miles where she could use all of her energy in one quick burst, dashing as fast as possible. It’s only recently, with the triple crown in her sights and the only trainer she’s ever really trusted at her side, that she’s even tried going for longer. The burn of her muscles at the very end of their stamina is addicting in its own way, just as the wind blowing past her in her speed is.
“And that’s Risky Runaway still looking good! Risky Runaway in the lead by 2 lengths, does anyone stand a chance against this Umamusume?!”
They don’t.
Her grin grows as she leans forward, and one final burst of speed propels her through the finish line. The crowd explodes with noise.
“And that’s Risky Runaway’s win! Taking victory in the Satsuki Sho wins her one leg of the Triple Crown! She’s truly run away with it again!”
Benny’s full tilt sprint slows to a run, and then to a jog, sweat soaked skin cooling in the breeze. She raises her gaze to the cheering crowd, throwing a hand out to greet them. Their cheers grow louder, but she doesn't pay them any more attention, eyes already roaming the lower part of the field for the familiar head of black hair.
The thrill of the race is still buzzing beneath her skin. The sensation of wind in her hair and the track under her as her footsteps pound feels imprinted on her entire body, forming a bubbling excitement in her stomach. She's already won, and her favorite part is over—she's never cared about the performances nearly as much as the simple act of running a race. But a victory on top of that is a hard thing to beat.
There's not much else that makes her feel this good.
Her eyes finally settle on Eddie. Her trainer stands tall and proud amidst the chattering congratulations of the others near her, the slight curve of her lips betraying her satisfaction. Almost like she can sense Benny’s attention, Eddie finally notices Benny’s head tilted towards her, and her smile only grows. One hand is clutched around her usual clipboard, trembling just barely, but the other raises above her head to give a thumbs up. It's the dorkiest thing she could have possibly done. The bubbles in Benny’s stomach finally rise up as giggles, affection and elation and sheer joy forcing its way out of her in laughter she can't really stop.
Her trainer, her supporter, her number one fan. There’s a reckless, affectionate urge inside of Benny that is itching to act, and she’s never truly been good at denying those kinds of desires. She tilts herself towards the other woman before her brain even has the chance to register that she's doing it, aiming herself off the track and beelining to Eddie.
The other trainers notice, and quickly clear out of the way. Her trainer’s entire face drops in something resembling dread, which is fair, considering the amount of times Benny has taken her down after getting a little too excited. Still, Eddie tries her best to prepare, taking one small step backwards to brace herself for the incoming impact. It doesn't do much to help as Benny leaps at her, arms wrapping around her neck and lips pressing against hers.
It's not a good kiss by any sense of the word. She's covered in sweat and smiling far too wide to do anything but push their mouths together—the excitement still trembling through her body makes her aim truly terrible. Eddie goes rigid against her, arms securing around Benny’s waist in the hopes of keeping them both upright, but there's no way she could win against the full strength of an Uma. They plummet onto the turf together, crashing down with a laugh from Benny and a pained grunt from Eddie.
She pushes herself up after a moment, hands planted on either side of Eddie's dazed expression. “Eds!” she cheers. “I won!”
Her trainer blinks at her, wide eyed and red faced. Cute. She clears her throat, eye flicking down to Benny's lips, before she quickly looks back up to meet her gaze. “You did,” she murmurs, far quieter than the other woman. “I knew you would.”
The utter confidence in her voice makes satisfaction curl up warm in her stomach. She knows, generally, how much Eddie believes in her. That complete certainty in her abilities is part of why she’s the only trainer that’s ever been considered successful with the infamously free-spirited Uma. Hearing it from her is a different feeling entirely, heady and overwhelming no matter how many times she’s been granted it.
“Ah, well, y’know. Couldn’t have done it without you.” Her ears flick just slightly to the side, matching her giddy, restless energy. Eddie looks to them with a sense of satisfaction, already familiar with her body language, before her face hardens.
“That being said,” she starts, and oh geez, already, Benny thinks with utter joy, “you need to work on pacing. I know you get excited out of the gate, but even for miles and sprints you can’t waste all of your energy in the first thousand meters. You need to be more careful, especially if you’re still wanting to even try at the triple crown. Winning the Satuski Sho is a good start, but if you want even a chance at the Kikka Sho, you're going to need to work on stamina. Straining yourself too hard in the last quarter is going to have permanent effects on your muscles, as I know I’ve said—”
Benny groans, though there’s no true exasperation behind it, and lets her arms give way so her face plants firmly into Eddie’s neck. The other woman cuts off her rant with a squeak. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before. I wanted to win, though.”
A grin spreads across her face, almost vicious where it's pressed into Eddie’s skin. “I wanted to win by a landslide. And I did. That’s worth it, right?”
The woman under her sighs, and her gloved hand comes up to rest on Benny’s head, fingers lacing through the sweaty strands. Eddie’s fingers are trembling a little, still, the secondhand nerves and thrill making her shaky. The sight of it sends a bolt of affection through Benny so strong that she feels dizzy from it. It’s like her trainer was out there with her. The thought reverberates through her entire body.
“Yeah. But I want you to race for as long as you can,” Eddie murmurs. Her expression hardens—the familiar sternness that says she’s running more laps, swimming more lengths, and pulling more tires. “So be careful.”
She wants her to race for as long as she can. Benny’s shins ache with the desire to keep going, even now. Instead, she pushes her face deeper into the curve of Eddie’s neck and shoulder, pressing her shades uncomfortably against her own cheekbones.
She’ll do anything if it means she can keep running. If it means she can keep running with Eddie at the finish line. “Then you’ll be a trainer for a long ass time, then.”
Eddie’s laugh jostles Benny slightly, and her heart stutters in her chest along with the movement. Benny finally sits herself up, resting a hand on the center of Eddie’s chest and with a bright grin as she looks down at her trainer. Eddie looks a little disheveled, hair that usually covers her eye swept away and face reddened at the apples of her cheeks. The flush spreads across her nose as Benny situates herself atop her.
For a single moment, Eddie’s eyes flick elsewhere, cataloging the people and Umas walking around them, especially those staring and murmuring to each other. Benny’s fingers twitch against her button up with an impatient furrow in her brow to drag her attention back where it should be: on her very own Uma champion. Her expression melts into sheer affection, soft and pleased. It makes Benny’s entire body buzz.
“Guess so,” she says. A hand reaches up and gently moves Benny’s shades up to her forehead, revealing green eyes still sparkling with adrenaline. Her fingers trace along Benny’s jawline, skimming past her browbone and landing on her twitching ears. She gives them a tiny rub, the furry flesh pinched lightly between her fingers, and another giggle bursts out of Benny at the feeling. Her smile grows in satisfaction.
“Good work,” she praises softly. It fills Benny with more delight than the rest of the cheering crowd combined. “I knew you’d win.”
Benny can feel the way her cheeks pull with her smile, that certainty that drives her almost as much as her genuine love of going as fast as possible. She tilts her head into Eddie’s hand, clearly vying for another pet, but the clearing of a throat to her left distracts her.
“Um, Runaway?”
Benny's ear flicks at her name, and she reluctantly drags her gaze away from the woman under her to meet the eyes of a nervous looking Uma. She might have been in the race just now. Benny truly wouldn't know, not when the only things to exist on the turf are her feet and the finish line. The other Uma's eyes bounce between the two of them, a light blush on her cheeks, but she speaks clearly.
“Sorry, but it's— we're preparing for the performance. You're center, so…”
Benny sticks her tongue out in dramatic disgust, slumping her shoulders over. She doesn't really mind the dancing and the singing, but it does mean having to leave the comfortable lap she's in now. Deeply unfortunate. “Yeah, yeah. I'll be there.”
The Uma nods and hurries herself off to her own dressing room, assumedly. Benny looks back to her trainer, who's still staring up at her with a soft expression. Benny's vague disappointment spreads into a sharp grin as she grabs the collar of Eddie's shirt with both hands, leaning over to press her face closer.
“You better keep your eyes on me, okay?” She says. “I'll be singing for you.”
She's sure her face is the only thing visible in the others world right now. Eddie's mouth twitches like she's trying not to smile in return.
“You'll be center stage, won't you? Where else would I look?”
The praise settles into her chest and wraps around her warmly. It makes her lean down and plant a final kiss against Eddie’s cheek, before she easily hops up from the ground. Eddie, still staring up at her red-faced, eventually sighs and holds a hand up for Benny to grab, helping her up from the turf. She brushes at her white button up with a disgruntled look at the fresh green stains, before Benny grabs both of her hands to pull her attention back forward.
“Cheer nice and loud for me, ‘kay Eds?” she says. “I’ll hear you no matter what.”
Eddie’s smile is wry and her expression tired of her Uma’s antics, but her voice is sincere when she speaks. “I will.”
Benny beams, squeezing her hands in her own before another Uma taps her shoulder, gesturing off towards the stage. Her smile drops with a sigh, but she lets go, running off with a final wave behind her.
“See you there, Eds!”
Her trainer rolls her eyes, but the hand she raises in reply tells Benny everything she needs to know.
That same hand, clasping an orange penlight, is perfectly visible from her spot at center stage. It’s just as visible as the woman holding it, lazily waving it with a tiny smile that could rival the very sun.