The train screeched to a halt, and the station doors opened wide. Mary was the first to descend, slipping into the crowd of commuters with quick, calculated steps.
She had one thought in her mind: Escape.
Not far behind, Urara hopped down, eyes still locked on Mary's figure.
She chased after, weaving between adults with surprising agility. "Mary-chan!" she called out, cutting through the morning crowd.
Although she was far ahead, Mary flinched at the sound, her shoulders tightening.
But she didn't look back. Instead, she quickened her pace, forcing herself to keep her eyes forward. Don't face her. Don't stop. Keep walking.
But Urara was relentless. Her pink hair bobbed in the crowd as she hurried after her.
"Mary-chan!" she called again, louder this time, as though it could bridge the distance between them.
Mary's teeth clenched tighter. The sound of those footsteps behind her, closing in, messing with her nerves.
And so, without warning, her desire to escape amped up. Without warning, she broke into a dash. Her legs carried her like they had been trained to: steady, sharp, unyielding.
This was the pace that could and should always leave Urara far behind.
Her speed surged, cutting through the crowd. The station, the noise, the voices—all of it blurred into the background.
For a fleeting moment, it felt like she was free. Free from Urara's voice. Free from her smile. Free from her own guilt.
Behind her, Urara's steps stumbled. She tried to match Mary's sprint, but her stamina and speed betrayed her. She just couldn't match someone like Mary in those stats.
Her breath became heavier quickly, and her steps became clumsier. The distance widened shortly after.
Her small hands tried to reach forward as if they could pull Mary back.
Yet the truth, her pace couldn't keep up, and Mary simply moved on.
Still, Urara refused to stop. She bent forward, gasping, keep trying to catch up.
Her knees trembled, but her spirit kept burning.
"Mary-chan…" she whispered between breaths.
And then, after a round of arduous grunt, she forced her feet into motion again.
Step after step, she chased after the fading figure, unwilling to let the distance break her.
"Mary-chan, please... wait!" she would call out one last time.
***
***
***
Meanwhile...
In another part of town, three adults sat stiffly in a quiet living room. The curtains were half-drawn, dimming the space so that daylight alone lit the room.
"Sorry for the lack of pleasantries," the man said, seated opposite Urara's parents. His cold, stern eyes bore into them. "Your sudden, self-invited visit left me no time to prepare tea or pastries. Mind me for the impudence."
"It's fine," Urara's mother replied with a matching firmness.
"We're not here for a leisure visit but for an important issue. We're here to address your daughter's action."
"See—" the man interrupted sharply, "I still do not believe my daughter would assault yours without reason. Perhaps it was just a friendly tussle between children."
"Sorry, I don't believe that," Urara's mother cut him off.
The man's finger tapped the table repeatedly, irritation seeping through his composure. "Look here. My daughter is perfect. She would not waste her effort causing trouble for yours."
"But the truth is the truth, whether you like it or not," Urara's mother shot back.
His left eye twitched. "Like it or not? You see, my daughter would never do such a thing. Maybe it was just your daughter… lying… to you."
Urara's mother slammed her fist onto the table, her voice breaking into a growl. "MY DAUGHTER WOULD NEVER LIE TO ME ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THIS!"
"See? Your reaction proves my point," he sneered. "Instead of reason, you resort to violence. Typical. Like mother, like daughter. A bunch of mediocre horsegirls. Inferiority unfolded like a bunch of mobs."
Those words snapped the last thread of patience. Her mother's anger brewed further but the same went for her father's...
Urara's father lunged forward without warning, clutching the man's collar with his arm, raising a trembling fist as if to strike.
The man flinched, eyes wide, his leg kicking the table by reflex. Urara's mother gasped, trying to stop her husband.
But before she intruded, instead of connecting the punch, his father smiled.
"See… now this is violence," Urara's father said calmly. "What did my wife do earlier? That wasn't violence. That was her way of reasoning. After all, she didn't touch you, did she?"
The man stammered, "Wh… what…?!"
"And also!" Urara's father continued, tidying the man's collar while letting him go as though nothing had happened, "What I just did doesn't count either. No harm done. Just a friendly tussle to keep this deadly air awake. But if that's not something you want…"
His grin faded, replaced by a glare. "…then let's do it my way," said his father as he cracked his fingers.
Her mother stepped in, signaling her father to stop, "No violence under our roof, remember...?" she whispered.
"But this isn't our roof, though—"
"No still means no...!"
"Sorry..."
Meanwhile, Mary's father slumped back onto the couch, catching his ragged breath from the shock, defeated.
Then, he gritted his teeth, declared, "Fine. Tell me—what do you want from me?!"
Upon hearing that, Urara's mother turned back at him with her composure.
"All we ask is for your daughter to apologize. Nothing else."
The man scoffed. "Wait… that's it?" he paused, "Tch! Then you should've just said so!"
He rose to his feet, started to pace back and forth before them, muttering under his breath.
After a while, he paused, turning back at them. "Consider it done. My daughter will visit you tomorrow and say sorry. Satisfied?!"
"Bunch of madmen…" he cursed under his breath.
Urara's mother bowed with a calm smile, "Thank you. That's all we asked for." Her husband fumbling to follow.
"Okay, okay," the man grumbled, dismissing them with a flick of his hand. "Now leave. I have other business to attend to. I'll speak with her when she returns."
"Thank you," Urara's mother expressed again.
Then, the couple walked to the doorway.
Suddenly, Urara's mother paused, her eyes narrowing, recalling something.
With a gentle whirl back to Mary's father, she asked.
"What happened to her?"
Mary's father blinked. "…Who?"
"Your wife."
Upon hearing it, silence fell. His expression quickly darkened.
"It's none of your goddamn business! Now leave!"
Without another word, Urara's mother turned to her husband. "Let's go."
He nodded, and the two departed. The gate shut behind them with a heavy clang.
As the couple was returning to their home, on the road home, the air eased.
Urara's mother stretched with a relieved grunt and leaned against her husband's shoulder, chuckling softly. "You just reminded me why I fell for you."
"H-huh? What?" He blinked rapidly, face flushing as he stumbled in step.
Her mother chuckled.
"Nothing, just carry on," said her mother as they continued their way home.