Twilight Song's expression didn't waver at all. Or rather, it would've been stranger if she had been surprised to see Gotham Song acting without the slightest disguise.
Of course, she knew exactly what kind of Uma Musume "she" was, what sort of existence she had become, and just how many deep, heavy grudges were compressed inside that heart…
Actually, maybe after reincarnating and walking through this world again, those grudges had perhaps lessened a bit, hadn't they?
No matter whether it was her life before or after transmigrating—at least from the perspective of all the memories Twilight Song retained—none of it had been easy.
Ironically, the happiest she'd ever felt was after she'd died, when the only thing she had to think about each carefree day was running, running, and racing others.
There was still joy to be found as an Uma Musume—if your running wasn't burdened by the pressure of results…
In short, Twilight Song stared at Gotham Song without even the slightest trace of panic. She even leaned casually back against the wall, folding her arms across her chest with a leisurely air.
"I bet you've been waiting for this a long time, haven't you? Our meeting. No need to answer—I know already. After all, I can guess pretty clearly how you think."
Really, nothing's changed at all. It was only now that Twilight Song fully understood why everyone around her had so confidently insisted on one thing:
Gotham Song was absolutely Twilight Song—!
This had initially annoyed Twilight Song—a horse-girl who possessed little more than that famous name—but after meeting face-to-face, even if she was unhappy about it, Twilight Song had to admit: they were right.
Their similarity went far beyond mere appearance; it extended into their expressions, behaviors, even the logic behind their actions… Fine, fine. You win this round, alright?
"Yeah, I did look forward to this for a long time. Wondering what your reaction would be, what you'd say—and yeah, I was pretty nervous about it."
"But you realized, didn't you?" Twilight Song's lips curled upward slightly.
"That once you actually saw me, all those feelings vanished, and your heart strangely calmed down instead? Don't give me that look—of course, I know."
"Alright, alright, let's skip past the boring part, Song. Ah, Gotham Song. Actually, that name's not bad."
"Anyway, you're curious about why exactly I appeared here, right? Well, actually, the real reason I wanted to meet you…"
"—Is to declare war."
Gotham Song's expression remained blank. In fact, it was as if she'd expected this all along, showing nothing but contempt.
Declare war? I thought it'd be something more interesting. That's it? So, why exactly do you have such a weird idea?
"Obviously, it's because I question your existence as my future self. Isn't it irritating? Why is it you who returned to the real world, while I, the one who died, have to stay trapped in hell?"
Even though those carefree days in Afterlife had made Twilight Song genuinely happy… but still—still—!
It was only happiness. She couldn't call it true fulfillment, not even close. Twilight Song had left behind countless attachments when she died. Being unable to see those familiar faces, to never again meet the people she desperately longed for—those were painful things. Especially after enduring long loneliness, opening up her heart, and then losing it all over again.
Maybe declaring war wouldn't change any of that. But couldn't she at least vent some of the frustration in her heart? In short, Twilight Song desperately wanted to punch her real-world self right in the face—even if just to shatter that undefeated myth she'd built. That would at least be amusing, right?
Heh heh. I, Twilight Song, can absolutely do that easily, okay?
"I know, you'll say that my actions are selfish, arrogant, everything you hate. Say whatever you want—I simply can't stand you. Let's race at the Dream Cup. I'll make you taste defeat."
Twilight Song's words were bold and blatantly selfish. Such a contradiction mixed to the extreme, yet Gotham Song understood her meaning perfectly clearly:
I can't stand you, I'm jealous of you—so I want to kick your ass.
That's all it was, right?
How should she put this? She was a bit like a sore loser, weirdly cute. Heh heh. So that's what you were thinking?
Honestly, if Twilight Song had tried to present some noble-sounding, grand reason that Gotham Song couldn't possibly refuse, Gotham Song might have become furious and rejected her challenge with all her might.
But Twilight Song's current behavior couldn't be called righteous or noble at all. Instead, it resembled a child throwing a temper tantrum—exactly the kind of silly provocation that had now changed Gotham Song's mind completely.
Is that really how you feel? If so, I guess I'll have to accompany you all the way. You want to make me taste defeat?
Heh… Hahahaha! Even my past self dares dream about something like that?
Who gave you the right to be so ridiculously arrogant!?
"Fine. But remember one thing: this isn't you—a dead person from the past—declaring war on me. It's me graciously giving you a grand and unforgettable defeat, just to show you how weak and foolish you really are."
Twilight Song's undefeated legend will shatter right here, in her own dead future. The Dream Cup… will be the final end of your legend!
...
Gotham Song had no intention of wasting any more words with Twilight Song. After giving her reply, she strode out of their secluded corner, and with cheerful hops, regained her usual self as she returned to the company of those familiar to her.
Mejiro Ardan glanced briefly in Twilight Song's direction—but only briefly. Meanwhile, Manhattan Cafe was utterly indifferent, not sparing even a glance, as if Twilight Song were just a random stranger.
Even Sunday Silence appeared faintly, gently wrapping arms around Gotham Song from behind. Thus, the three Uma Musume and one ghost began their journey home together.
Twilight Song, watching their backs fade away, sank deeply into bitter longing. Ah… So this—this was why she envied Gotham Song enough to start a childish war—!
How incredibly enviable…
As the silhouettes gradually receded from her vision, Twilight Song finally shook off her daze. Instead of standing there alone, she quietly returned to join the other Uma Musume who, like her, had come from the past.
Oh well. These old fools around me now… they weren't actually so bad.
On the road home, Gotham Song casually explained to her two sisters—and one Old Bastard—just what had happened earlier. After hearing the explanation, Mejiro Ardan let out a soft sigh:
"Sure enough, Ruka really is quite childish, isn't she?"
No matter how Gotham Song thought about it, something about Ardan-nee-san's words sounded wrong. After wracking her brain to no avail, she eventually gave up trying to figure it out.
Anyway, her Ardan-nee-san was definitely implying something weird. In that case…
Don't think giving up on understanding means I won't do anything about it!
Gotham Song wrapped her arms tightly around Mejiro Ardan's arm, fiercely but gently sinking her teeth into it.
Awoooo—! I'll bite you to death—!!
Mejiro Ardan gave no response at all—or rather, she gave no particular reaction to being bitten. At most, she merely raised her hand to gently stroke her younger sister's soft hair, as she always did whenever Gotham Song bit her.
Sigh. Her younger sister truly was impossibly adorable. But if Song ever found out about what had happened earlier at the convention, something far more shocking, how would she react then?
Mejiro Ardan's heart softened with guilt. Although Gotham Song would find out eventually, since she was in such a wonderful mood right now… wouldn't it be better to keep her happy just a little longer?
Now, at last, Mejiro Ardan began to understand the mentality of those older figures she'd met before. This sudden realization filled her with gentle emotion.
But while humans could be thoughtful about feelings, a certain ghost didn't have such tact.
Sunday Silence sneakily sidled up in front of Gotham Song, flashing a grin so bright it was chilling.
It was always better when Sunday Silence didn't smile—not because the Old Bastard had a bad smile, but because whenever she did, someone was surely about to suffer…!
And right now, she was smiling very happily indeed!
Gotham Song stopped biting. She was now seriously considering whether a flying leap could pin Sunday Silence to the floor, allowing her to administer some fierce preemptive revenge.
But even setting aside whether she could succeed at this, if she actually tried it here, in full view of everyone on the subway, floating mid-air and snapping at Sunday Silence like some crazed puppy…
No matter how Gotham Song imagined it, Sunday Silence probably wouldn't care. In fact, she'd definitely think herself the winner…
You damned chaos gremlin, you're invincible, aren't you?!
What was that saying again?
The moment I discard my moral bottom line, I become invincible!
Sunday Silence!
Ahh, forget it. So—what terrible hardship and torment awaited her this time?
"Gotham Song! Look into my eyes! Do you have any idea what incredibly terrible thing happened earlier? That's right—just now, at the convention?"
Just now… at the convention… an incredibly terrible thing?
Gotham Song sank into absolute bewilderment. She couldn't grasp what Sunday Silence was getting at.
What sort of thing could possibly have happened at such a casual event?
It couldn't be that someone had snuck in to bully some young filly, got discovered, and was promptly flung out by the whole crowd… but even if that happened, what would it have to do with this Old Bastard Sunday Silence?
No. Something was definitely wrong… terribly, terribly wrong!
"No, no, it's nothing as distant from you as you think. Actually, you were one of the main stars of what happened just now—Miss Mejiro Ardan~"
I was one of the main stars…? Ardan-nee…? No, wait—not Ardan-neesan herself…!
Which "Ardan-neesan" did she mean here?! It wasn't the real Mejiro Ardan sitting right next to her. Rather, it was referring to Gotham Song herself, who'd been cosplaying as her own older sister at the convention and was now sitting here, dumbfounded!
Calm down. Calm down. What could've possibly happened back then?
And at precisely this moment of confusion, Sunday Silence instead fell into utter silence. She said nothing, only grinning brilliantly.
Because at this point, there was no need to say anything further…
Gotham Song was an extremely clever girl. Clever to what degree?
If you just gave her half the scenario, her sharp brain would automatically deduce the rest of what must have occurred.
In a sense, this intelligence was actually a plus for a chaos gremlin like Sunday Silence—at least from the perspective of someone playing with her toys. Because how boring would it be if a chaos-seeker simply spelled everything out plainly?
Watching the realization dawn on the person being toyed with was a special joy of its own.
Sunday Silence licked the corner of her lips, her face brimming with anticipation. She genuinely wanted to know—just how Gotham Song would react when she realized what had really happened back there at the convention.
Unfortunately for Sunday Silence, she'd never get to see the fruits of her scheming. Because right as she smiled sinisterly, a large, punishing hand struck from behind: Manhattan Cafe, unable to watch any longer, grabbed Sunday Silence by the collar and flung her straight down onto the subway floor, out of Gotham Song's view.
And how did Sunday Silence react?
With a pitiful, agonized wail—!
"Gwaaaah! Cafe! You can't! You absolutely can't! You've never treated me this roughly before—!!!"
You can't—absolutely not—!!
And Manhattan Cafe's response?
A look of calm, composed disdain, so icy it turned Sunday Silence's face pale as death.
That's the look you give a dead person… Wait, I actually am dead, aren't I? Heh, heh… ha… hahaha—Gwah!!
Mejiro Ardan didn't even know what expression to make. Helplessly, she simply hugged Gotham Song tighter, quietly waiting for her little sister's senses to return.
She could only hope Song hadn't been shocked speechless…
"You're saying… that scene of those fillies screaming earlier… and of me dragging Ruka out of the convention… was recorded? And now the whole world knows about it… right?"
After taking a deep breath, Gotham Song managed to regain her composure—just enough to ask Mejiro Ardan this, in a voice still thick with disbelief.
This was the very first time Mejiro Ardan had seen such outright panic—an utterly overwhelmed, panicked expression with no solutions available—appear on her little sister's face.
And what could she possibly say in reply?
The only answer possible was—
An affirmative, silent, firm, and decisive nod.
How could Mejiro Ardan ever lie?
"It's even worse, actually," Mejiro Ardan added softly. "Many bystanders immediately recognized exactly who the 'Mejiro Ardan' at the convention really was… and now your social media accounts have been completely exposed and are being shared like crazy."
In other words—
Haha, Gotham Song, congratulations.
Your real identity is now officially online.
---
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