#aomeek

   The storm didn't seem like it was going to ease up any time soon. The rain was nothing less than miserable. Constant. Endless. It transformed the grassy tracks below into swamps.

   “Don't give up. You know what they say: expect the worst but hope for the best.” Aoi encouraged her.

   Though Happy Meek didn't seem to be buying it.

   “We still have two more races before the URA Finale. Let's aim to clear those first.” Aoi added.

   “Ah, true…”

   Happy Meek was enrolled to race both the Tenno Sho and Arima Kinen. She had to get those out of the way first and wasn't really enthused by the challenges that they would bring. Her career so far as an athlete Uma Musume had been middling to say the least. Plenty of silvers and bronzes but no golds.

   She was always in the shadow of her rival who was trained by Aoi's close friend and colleague.

   All Happy Meek wanted was to race lots and win lots. So far, she had done plenty of the former and very little of the latter. She was always just out of shot, out of frame by the time she passed the finishing line. The disappointment after disappointment had begun to take its toll.

   Both she and Aoi knew what was on the horizon if this unlucky losing streak kept up: she would be forced to retire. She would have to give up on her dream of being an idol athlete. The thought hurt very much, more so than the aches in her heart and strain in her body after just falling short of victory once again.

   With these thoughts on her mind unspoken, Happy Meek’s expression was, well, unhappy. Her face stormy all the same as the outside as she worried that this was yet another setback, or worse a sign to give up. If the URA Finale was cancelled due to the rain, as was the rest of the bright and sunny future Happy Meek had naively envisioned when she first entered Tracen Academy three years ago.

   Concerned for Happy Meek’s obvious spiral of misery, Aoi flashed her a smile, “C'mon, cheer up. There's still plenty we can do today despite the news.” Aoi reminded her.

   Happy Meek nodded, “True.” she mumbled.

   Aoi's expression was determined. She retracted her hand and pulled it into a fist in front of her breast. She puffed out her chest and readied her thoughts, ready to elucidate wisdom she had learned from either the Trainer’s Handbook or even her parents before her. She took a breath and just as she was about to give Happy Meek the best pep talk of her life…

   Bang, crash! Thunder shook the building. 

   “Ah!” Happy Meek exclaimed.

   She pulled away, scared. She hunkered down at her shoulders and grabbed her ears. Her tail thrashed as she winced.

   “Too loud!” Happy Meek complained.

   Aoi fussed over her. “Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” 

   She cradled Happy Meek’s face, had her look up at her panicked albeit smiling. She caressed Happy Meek’s cheeks, her thumb did a backstroke over them as she hushed Happy Meek. She calmed slightly, held by her beloved mentor and trainer. She exhaled and forced a feeble smile.

   “Your good, your good… You just weren’t expecting such a big noise.” Aoi consoled her.

   Happy Meek shook her head.

   No, she was not. Now, she was and when more thunder boomed, she felt more prepared this time. Lightning illuminated the sky outside in blinding white through the rain. She eased herself off her hackles and Aoi slowly let her go. Her hands moved downwards. She took Happy Meek’s and held them firmly but lovingly. Happy Meek gazed into Aoi’s eyes and her heart skipped a beat.

   Aoi’s eyes sparkled and she found her words beyond consolation. She smiled and she had only the most pure and genuine of intentions as she imparted wisdom and pep unto Happy Meek.

   “I believe in you: in us. We have thunder in our hearts, we’ll take the things we’re scared of and be bigger than them.” Aoi replied. She squeaked. She panicked again and grabbed her hair, she blushed. “Ah! I think I quoted an old pop song. And totally forgot what I wanted to say.

   Happy Meek stared at her with big, wet eyes. They were wide and in awe. She smiled.

   “Let’s do our best, Kiryuin-san.” Happy Meek replied.

   She had a quiet certainty inside of her. Whatever Aoi had wanted to say before the thunder had caused a frighten, it likely paled to whatever she ended up saying. It was likely more hers, freed from the motte and bailey of what she had been taught and what she had been raised. She needed to open up a little more, embrace her individuality and flexibility.

   Kind of like that friend of hers… Happy Meek suspected that was why their colleague and peer were so successful. Though she dared not say it aloud as Kiryuin Aoi had her own charm and drum to march to the beat too. She was a good trainer. Happy Meek wanted to do right by her.

   Inspired by this incident, Happy Meek did her best. The following days provided soft ground to train on. Good for stamina and guts training so that was where they pivoted. Happy Meek needed some more of both of those stats if she wanted to place on a podium in her next two races.

   The experience of training served her well. It gave her the boost she needed in these intense final races. But it wasn’t enough. It turned out the same as the rest of the dozens of races that she had run during the past three years. She came close but not close enough.

   Kyoto was beautiful in the spring. The turf was vibrant and firm. The brilliant blue skies were dazzling, broken up only by the sun’s rays and the city’s skyline which blended the traditional with the new. Even from the racing green, Happy Meek could make out the Kyoto radio tower amongst the buildings and she could just imagine the crackle of news, of the winners and losers who would be reported via. She looked around as she took her place at the starting gate. The racecourse was large, it roared with countless fans and vendors who hocked their goods, from salty snacks with adorable merchandise. 

   Happy Meek was up against all kinds of competitors. Girls who wore military jackets and a determined expression on their face. Girls with long legs and powerful glides. She was just herself and herself wasn’t good enough to get more than third place.

   But at least bronze came with the good news that the weather had improved back home. The URA Finale would go ahead but first, the Arima Kinen and that meant more training.

   More hoping for the best.

   They took a bus through the town, passed by the Mogami River and plenty of agricultural fields. Nakayama had a homey feel to it, Happy Meek thought and yet, it was host to the most prestigious race of the classic year. The population probably tripled to accommodate the tourism that accompanied the race. The girls, the trainers, the family members, the fans.

   Happy Meek took her position at the gate. She looked through the faces of the people in the grandstand. She didn’t think she could count that high and yet, it was only Aoi whom she truly searched for. She shuddered. She glanced amongst the other girls.

   Let whatever happens… Happen. 

   It was the longest, hard race of the year and Happy Meek did her best to go keep up. At least she could say at the end of it, she put up her dukes and had fought with the best of them in her generation. She placed somewhere in the middle of the pack.

   The turf just kept going and going. The sun was blazingly hot over the open grounds of the race course. The sound of her rivals overwhelmed her: the sound of their footwork, how they breathed and even muttered under their breath. Happy Meek was quiet. Her heart quaked. She was exhausted by the end of it. It was her worst placement of her career so far and she hated it. She cried to Aoi afterwards.

   They were in the tunnel together afterwards. Happy Meek had placed sixth. 

   “I’m sorry.” Aoi murmured.

   She wiped Happy Meek’s tears away and Happy Meek felt like the scum at the bottom of a pond. She didn’t have what it took to be on top, to the one who shone. It was infuriating. She worked hard, she had the drive, she wanted to make Aoi proud but something bigger than her was stopping her.

   “Don’t worry, the director said that the URA Finale is open to anyone who ran the Arima Kinen…” Aoi tried to console her.

   But it did little to quell Happy Meek’s spiral of self deprecation. In the shadow of the limelight, of the glittering concert and the pristine podium, the shutter of flash photography and the gleam of a shiny ribbon. She had none of that. Only cleats worn dull.

   She sobbed onto Aoi’s shoulder and Aoi rubbed her back.

   “Let it all out…” she whispered.

   It was embarrassing. It was childish. Happy Meek both loved and loathed every second of it. Kiryuin Aoi was, by far, her most important person: the voice who cheered her on the loudest, the one who comforted her the quietest. They were in it together as two beginners and so far beginner’s luck had evaded them, leaving only a novice’s heartbreak.

   All Happy Meek wanted was a change of fortune.

   There was little time to prepare, however. Time marched on and the URA Finale came before either she nor Aoi could be truly ready. The sun was shining. The birds were singing.

   First came the qualifiers and Happy Meek ran like the wind.

   She had nothing left to lose and everything to gain. She couldn’t believe it. They had to check the footage but she did it. She had eeked out her first win of her career but it was hardly a big one. It was an uphill battle, across the flat verdant turf of Kyoto.

   But it gave her a jolt of hope. It was a totally different feel and taste to her salty tears of defeat but it wasn’t quite enough to make her believe that things had improved. She threw herself into random training. There wasn’t enough time between the off days to give her or Aoi time to truly focus. She just hashed out what she could in wit, maybe speed if she had the energy in reserve.

   Second came the semi finals and it was everything that Happy Meek could have dreamed of.

   She was lined up amongst plenty of familiar faces and fierce competitors. She shook out her nerves, kept her eyes ahead. She ran like she always did but with a touch more grit. With a touch more passion. She didn’t want it to be all for naught and with a metre between her and the girl behind her…

   She did it. She crossed the finish line where she came in an unbeleivable first again and she couldn’t believe it. It had to be sheer luck. Karma paying its debts and she would be in a world of hurt the day after tomorrow. It would be a vile weakness to let this sudden success get to her head. She locked in and Aoi held her hand through the last of the training they could afford.

   Third came the actual finals, the end of the year and the end of her career if she wasn’t careful. Happy Meek stared down the medium race course. She watched blades of grass quiver in anticipation as microphones boomed and speakers played the numbers game of favourites and fans. She was given lip service down at number four.

   Her hands trembled. Her knees knocked. She flashed a smile to her great rival and that was that. On your marks, get set, go. Everyone raced at full power. Full throttle. It may as well have been life or death and Happy Meek was engulfed by the ferocity.

   The ground had just a tiny bit of give underneath. It reminded Happy Meek of how the turf had been on the training grounds after the poor news had broken that the URA Finale was at risk of a wash out from the rain. She tried to blink away these thoughts but she thought of those moments in the storm, scared of the thunder and lightning.

   Scared of disappointing Aoi and bringing shame to the prestigious Kiryuin name.

   Happy Meek ascended. She kept running. She passed by her rivals, her friends, and strangers alike. The race seemed all but endless as the roar of the crowd overwhelmed her. This was it. The epitome of a race well run. Good sportsmanship, precious memories, and then so much at risk and at reward. She focused on herself.

   Her rhythm, her pace. Her goals, her loved ones. She thought of what Aoi had told her and right now, it was all she could feel: they had thunder in their hearts. Poor, sweet, and easily scared: absent minded with two left feet, Happy Meek was far from a force of nature like a storm and yet she fully believed Aoi’s words. She would become the sweeping tempest of a victor.

   In those words that Aoi had spoken, in the cold and dreary afternoon of a storm, Happy Meek found important courage within her because it truly was now or never. She sped up. Five hundred metres, four hundred metres, she panted, three hundred metres, two hundred metres, her arms were cut by the wind, one hundred metres, zero metres, her heart pounded like a drum. She was exhausted but she felt unburdened by it.

   She would never have to run a losing race after this ever again and yet. Somewhere in it all, in her head which was clouded by all the time she had spent with Aoi, in sorrow and in joy, in mirth and in melancholy, she had done it. She hadn’t even realised until she saw it out of the corner of her eye.

   Her idol costume on the big screen and then and only then did she realise. She had been the first to pass by the ornate metal decoration which had been erected for the sole purpose of the URA Finale.

   How… How?

   Happy Meek was basked in so much cheer. In so many voices combined as one just to encourage her and she slowed to a jog. She waved hello to old and new fans alike. She searched for Aoi’s face first amongst the near endless crowd which had been built up in the URA Finale’s grandstands.

   There was so much to do afterwards but in the tunnel, it slowed to a snail’s crawl. She and Aoi had all the time in the world for Happy Meek to catch her breath and prepare for her very first concert wherein she was the heroine in position zero: centre stage and with a solo in the middle. It was going to be glorious but not as glorious as all Happy Meek wanted as she had one on one time with her trainer.

   Happy Meek smiled and Aoi covered her own mouth. She was beside herself in glee. Music hummed in the distance but they felt like they were in a world of their own backstage.

   “I did it.” Happy Meek declared. Her voice was still its usual soft volume and yet, the confidence that she held was entirely new. “I won.”

   “You did!” Aoi squealed. “You did it, you won!”

   There were tears of joy in the corner of Aoi’s eyes. She was so cute. So happy. So over the moon. Happy Meek had never seen her like this before. They had finally done it together: they brought in her biggest win and finally, a jewel for Aoi’s resume.

   Happy Meek’s heart wavered. She needed to do the right thing, to return to favour. She reached out. She wiped Aoi’s tears away. Her fingers trembled, she was awkward as she smudged the tears away. Aoi’s skin was warm and taut. She had never touched it before.

   “What are…?” Aoi’s voice trailed off.

   She couldn’t complete her question. Happy Meek couldn’t answer it. The words she wanted to say were so near and dear to her, they slipped out effortlessly as she looked up at Aoi with all the admiration in the world.

   “I was able to do it because of you, Kiryuin-san.” Happy Meek confessed. “I thought about you. I wanted to make you happy and I remembered what you said. About how we have thunder in our hearts. Then I heard it. The thunderous applause and the next thing I knew… I'd won.”

   “I… I’m so glad.” Aoi cried. “I’m so glad that my words were able to move you… That’s… That’s all I want as your trainer.”

   “I’m glad I was able to be your trainee, Kiryuin-san…” Happy Meek murmured. She took a breath and she savoured how her lungs inflated so fully for the first time after the race. She closed her eyes briefly and when she exhaled, they opened and she saw what she wanted in such pristine clarity. “I’m glad I was able to make you happy because… because you are my most important person, Kiryuin-san, I mean it. With all my heart. I never want to be apart, I can’t imagine anyone being as important to me as you are.”

   Aoi was taken aback by Happy Meek’s words. She flinched at the touch of Happy Meek’s gentle fingers still by her face. Aoi looked deep into Happy Meek’s eyes, the pink glistened with such intensity. It was entirely possible that this was the most that Happy Meek had ever spoken to her in the past three years. Even Happy Meek was thinking as such as her words lingered, ardent and uncomfortable. She was of so little words but they always meant such enormity. Especially in this instance. Aoi hesitated but Happy Meek meant it all and possibly even more.

   Even if they had to cross lines between trainer and trainee, mentor and protege, student and teacher. Happy Meek’s feelings transcended them all and became all encompassing. 

   “I want to keep running with you, Aoi-san.” Happy Meek affirmed.

   “I… I do, too.” Aoi hesitated and, yet she softened into Happy Meek’s touch. 

   Happy Meek’s heart skipped a beat and she smiled shyly. There was more ordinance outside of their hidey hole in the stadium. It sounded almost like thunder but no, it was Happy Meek’s name being called for the winning concert. Aoi smiled and encouraged her to go and meet her peers on stage. Happy Meek nodded and made the silent promise: all that she would sing would be sung for her dear Kiryuin Aoi.

   Today was Happy Meek’s very first G1 Race. She had done excellently during her June maiden debut where she began with a nascent lead. She’d done well in the lead up between various mile and medium races across G3 and G2 gradings, so she felt confident that despite being matched against the legacies King Halo, Happy Meek would do well.

   With the walk of trepidatious excitement, out of the way, Happy Meek took her rightful place. She lined up at her starting gate. She took a moment of repose, she ran her hands over her costume: she relished the silken sheen of her pristine, baby blue dress underneath her palms. She made sure that it was without wrinkles and creases.

   Instead of making sure her feet were in the right position below, or that her arms were at the ready for a raring start.

   The starting gun fired its shot. Bang. The starting gates rattled and flung open. The immediate pack broke through and Happy Meek panicked. Aoi was not going to be happy about this late start.

   Her high heels stumbled through the grass. Her form was off. It was embarrassing but no one was looking at her. All eyes were ahead, in the back, in the shiny and lustrous hair of her competitors and Happy Meek wanted to be there. In the middle of it. Fighting hard.

   She wanted to run lots.

   Her fingers curled into her palms. She corrected her posture. Her brows furrowed. She got serious. She hunkered down and she sped up to join the pack ahead of her.

   The first five hundred metres erased behind her. Her cleats carved up the grass as she nudged and dodged. Her ears twitched. The voice over of the commentary was so far, far away. Her eyes trained ahead, in between the shoulders and necks that jostled, capes that fluttered and skirts that bounced.

   With all the movement and motion, it seemed discordant in Happy Meek’s eyes as she did her best to catch up but then she saw her: King Halo.

   She glanced over her shoulder and gave a hmph before recalculating ahead of her. Happy Meek didn’t back down despite such cheek from classmate. 

   King Halo had a real chip on her shoulder. They were of very different temperaments: Happy Meek ran cold, King Halo was fighting hot. There just seemed to be a lot more on King Halo’s plate than her own, Happy Meek suspected. She had a lot more at stake in the races that she ran than Happy Meek: she had her mother’s name to live up to her, her own illusions to disprove.

   As such, she ran strategically. She went all out in the end but since Happy Meek hadn’t started on the right foot, she was going to take full advantage. She tried to block Happy Meek from joining the pack. She swerved this way and that way as she ran.

   It almost frightened Happy Meek as she tried to overcome this blockage. The other racers around them were equally as clustered as Happy Meek caught up and tried to enter the fray. 

   She was just on the edge, just on the verge of breaking through but then something would happen. There’d be a change of guard up ahead, or someone else would burst on through. They all followed the bend of the track and it was on the first corner that Happy Meek found her strategy.

   She had practiced it a hundred times. She could feel the expertise in her body tingle as she used her strength to show how adept she was at what it took to gain placement in the pack’s tangle as the curvature’s flow forced a new approach. She soared on through as another five hundred metres lapsed. 

   Happy Meek had finally overcome the loss of pace and focus due to her late start. It all turned into a smooth rhythm that let her run how she wanted to run: clear of mind and serene of heart. Joy welled up inside of her as she could see the remaining three quarters of the race afield, a few scattered front runners but most importantly, Happy Meek found her rightful place amongst her fellow pace chasers.

   She kept running. They were half way through the race’s length but this was where they got serious. This was where it became do or die. 

   The track was wide open and there was a bouquet at the end of it, both in soft, petalled flowers and in large shafts of fanciful, painted decorations. There were cameras and billboards. It was exciting. It was the end destination as Happy Meek ran as hard as she could.

   She let sweat fly off her body as she cut through the cold air. Her breath turned to mist in front of her as she did her best to focus on that end goal of the finishing line. The grass had so much give, it propelled her forward. Each stroke of her legs made her body ache.

   It made her tremble with excitement, too.

   She loved running. Running was the most fun that Happy Meek knew how to have. Her tail swished behind her, underneath the silk of her costume. Her ribbons fluttered, her ears felt the wind in them. It was freedom. It was euphoric. This is what she, as an Uma Musume was built for, destined for: the racing green and its wide open blue skies.

   She was amongst friends all the same as she was amongst strangers for now, they were united in an unflinching quest for victory. Some would win, some would lose. Everyone gave their all.

   Especially Happy Meek.

   She could coast on through, with bronzes and top five showings, or she could go all the way. She was a Kiryuin Horse Girl: she would make or break Aoi’s reputation as a Trainer. Her parents were so famous, their Uma Musume were legendary, Happy Meek wanted to do her best so she and Aoi could take their combination to their rightful, near prodigal place in such halls of fame.

   Her eyes closed briefly with a blink. She felt each and every eyelash buffeted by the wind and by inertia and on the inside of her eyelids, she saw Aoi. She saw Aoi’s pink hued cheeks, round with youth and her glossy, blue-black hair and her joyous, sapphire eyes.

   She didn’t see tears, she didn’t see Aoi crying: she saw her happy and when Happy Meek opened her eyes again, she was full of inspiration. The final five hundred metres: the homestretch. Her heart thudded in her chest and she ran harder.

   She competed harder.

   There was so much push and shove in the final five hundred metres. King Halo came up the rear, she was ready for her close-up.

   King Halo tried to overtake Happy Meek. They were shoulder to shoulder with lightning strikes in their eyes. A winter gale blew and dewdrops were whipped up in its wake. There wasn’t much left of the track at all between them and a whole new victory the likes of which neither Uma Musume had tasted before.

   King Halo would get a centimetre ahead and Happy Meek would take it back. They went to and fro in a tussle, side by side, as their stamina burned on like a candle burned down to the flame. It was all they had as the wintry chill set in, frost on their outfits and noses ruddy as they worked up a sweat as the inevitable became now.

   There could only be one winner and Happy Meek reached further. She ran harder. She pushed her body to a new limit and she had never felt free or more limber for it as she made darn sure that she put Kiryuin Aoi on the map as a trainer.

   What happened next was the exact magic of movies and video games. They crossed the finish line but it was Happy Meek who was hailed as the victorious first place race despite her shoddy start and the uphill battle it had caused for her. She bowed politely for the cameras and her heart fluttered. She could hardly believe that was her up on the big screen but it really was.

   Her very G1 win… Happy Meek was, well, happy.

   And she couldn’t wait to share that happiness with Aoi.

   She was given a trophy and a winner’s sash. Happy Meek bowed her head as she gratefully accepted her rewards. The trophy was heavy in her hands as she held onto it via its handles and she bowed her head for the sash. It was threaded over her head and placed over her chest with grace.

   Happy Meek looked up and gave one last wave hello for the folks at home as the camera panned on from her. She earned her rightful accolades with applause and then… It was over. There was time to breathe, to let her body cool down and embrace the chill of winter again but on the inside, Happy Meek was so very warm as she met up with Aoi after the press run.

   Aoi waited for Happy Meek to the side of the winner’s circle. 

   There was a little block for them to have a word together before Happy Meek was shepherded onto the concert and backstage for it to prepare. They stood in the cold with noon overhead, next to some vases and the steel fencing that separated the racing green from the rest of the race course.

   Naturally, Aoi was beside herself with joy as Happy Meek was relinquished from the media circus into her care. She held out her hands and waved them hello, she practically vibrated on the spot as she welcomed Happy Meek to her side.

   “Aah!” Aoi squealed in delight, “The winner’s sash looks so good on you, Meek!” 

   “Hehe, thanks.” Happy Meek humbly replied.

   She showed off the sash this way and then that. It rested over the stark white of her idol outfit with the high contrast of its scarlet satin and gold tassels. 

   “You showed excellent wit during your race, Meek,” Aoi praised her, “I was worried, I won’t lie, but you recovered brilliantly and made good use of the skills we honed during training. I’m so, so SO proud of you.”

   “Aw, shucks…” Happy Meek mumbled.

   She smiled shyly and turned away slightly from Aoi. All Happy Meek wanted was to make Aoi happy and to run lots. To say she accomplished that today would be saying the least.

   As her trainer, Aoi was the apple of Happy Meek’s eye. She hung to every word, the scolding and the encouragement, the praise and the criticism. Happy Meek cherished it all and somewhere along the way, in the last six months since being paired up with Aoi, she had fallen in love with her.

   They spent week in, week out together. Morning and afternoon and sometimes in between or outside of those hours, too. They went to the aquarium and they went shoe shopping. They napped on each other’s shoulders on train trips and the like. It all served to inspire Happy Meek on the field.

   And clearly, it worked.

   Those precious thoughts of Aoi, of seeing her smile and cheer, were what helped propel Happy Meek from silver to gold. Her heart swelled three sizes right here and now, whilst her lungs recuperated and she felt every single nerve in her system.

   There was a tingle in her lips and a murmur in her heart. Happy Meek needed to thank Aoi the only way she knew how. 

   She unwrapped her winner’s sash from around her. It made swishy noises as its satin slid against the silk of her clothes. She held it up and she leaned in. Her eyelashes fluttered as she stared deep into Aoi’s eyes with a quiet smile on her lips.

   “Thank you for everything, Kiryuin-san.” Happy Meek mumbled as her arm went wide, with the winner’s sash like a flag beside her.

   “What are you…?” Aoi’s words slipped from her mouth but she realised it might be best not to question it as she received all of Happy Meek’s adoration of her.

   Happy Meek used the winner’s sash to protect her and Aoi from prying eyes, so no one could see how their lips met with a kiss. The satin shimmered in the sunlight as it was buffeted by the slightest breeze. Happy Meek kissed Aoi softly, to her surprise and against Aoi’s better judgement, she kissed back.

   She shouldn’t.

   They both knew she shouldn’t but a special occasion required special exceptions.

   Happy Meek swooned into the kiss. It was everything that she dreamed it would be like when Aoi was the last thing she thought of before she drifted off to sleep and was the first thing she thought of as she roused in the morning. She was just so elegant and mature, with expensive perfume in luxurious notes of white peach, jasmine, and patchouli.

   She couldn’t have been more thrilled by the kiss. The newness of its sensation: the closest she had ever been to another woman, the lack of technique and the chastity that came with the firstness of it. Happy Meek had pined for this moment for so long and she could feel something similar in Aoi, in her warm breath and in the softness of her lips.

   But something else, too.

   A friction between denial and acceptance in Aoi’s demeanour. She tried to reach out, she tried to reject Happy Meek’s come on. She was so sweet and innocent but they were mentor and protegee. Aoi broke the kiss off when Happy Meek had successfully won quite the medal of her first kiss from her.

   “Ah, we shouldn’t be… It’s not very professional- it wouldn’t reflect well on-” Aoi tried to protest but it wasn’t just Happy Meek she had to convince, it was herself, too. 

   Happy Meek giggled.

   Aoi relented in her worry with her previously fastidious expression giving way to a pout, “So long as this doesn’t happen again.”

   “So long as what doesn’t happen…?” Happy Meek feigned ignorance but it was difficult to know for sure. She was such a space cadet, after all. “Attaining another winner’s sash?”

   “No! Not that!” Aoi fell hook, line, and sinker for the silliness. Her hands curled into fists and she stamped her feet against the concrete. “I mean… the kissing.”

   “Alright, I understand.” Happy Meek replied but she, for one, wouldn’t mind another.

   Either a kiss or another winner’s sash.