For Haruka Nanase, galloping down the homestretch for the finish line has always felt like coming home. While Makoto, Nagisa and Rin continue to train hard to pursue their own dreams as professional riders, Haru finds himself struggling against a world that desperately wants to shape him into a prodigy he has never wanted to become. But in his last year of school and uncertain of allowing himself to be driven towards a career as a professional jockey, Haru finds himself questioning whether his love for racing could be hindered by the prospects of a famous reputation without his friends and the horse he loves most.
Morning Breeze
As he turns the car into his usual parking space, Haruka inhales the familiar smell of dew as he slips out of the driver's seat and zips up his boots on the wet grass. From the other side of the yard, Goro throws his customary greeting at him with a loud shout, brandishing his broom as he informs Haru that one of the owners wants to see him after he is finished. With a small smile, Haru nods once to his former trainer as he slides the bolt across and slips through the door into the racing barn.
Inside, he is met by twenty curious heads that all poke out from over their stable doors. The soft whickers of welcome rush over him like a warm wave, soaking him with gratitude as he wanders down the aisle, reaching out to stroke each inquisitive nose as they inspect him for treats. He digs his fingers into his jacket, pulling out a packet of mints that he shares out amongst them as their eyes brighten and their ears flick forwards at the recognisable sounds of wrapping paper.
He makes his way slowly to and from each stable, finally coming to a halt when he reaches the last where his dark stallion waits patiently for him to walk over. As he offers out the mint on an outstretched palm, Loch gently takes it from his hand, pushing his muzzle into Haru's palm and blowing an affectionate greeting. His rider leans into his warmth, resting his forehead against his own as he speaks to him in his usual quiet tone.
"Ready to stretch those legs?"
The stallion blows gently against his fingers in response, and Haru reaches up to brush aside his forelock to rub small circles into his forehead, tracing light patterns over his face. Loch's eyes flicker shut and he leans deeper into his rider's palm, sighing contentedly as Haru's fingers circle his eyes and then sweep up to carefully massage the inside of his ears. After several minutes by which Loch has almost started to doze, Haru treats him to another polo before backing out of the stable and starts to walk quietly down the aisle. Behind, he can hear the muffled clop of hooves following close at his heel. He would never do this with any other horse, but he trusts this horse with his life more than anyone, knowing that he would never do anything sudden or foolish.
He starts by picking out each hoof carefully, digging out any unwanted remains down the clefts and brushing clean the toe. A thorough brush of the body followed by a quick towel sweep leaves a gleaming coat, and Haru digs out another polo packet before heading down to the tack-room.
As he finishes buckling each strap and wrapping Loch's legs in his work bandages, Loch cranes his neck around every so often and gazes intently at him as if urging him to get a move on. He mounts him in the barn, letting him walk out on a loose rein all the way to the track, where once in sight, Loch's head rises and his ears are fixed forwards. His stride quickens, and Haru gathers up his reins and slides his feet into the stirrups as the stallion begins to pull down on the bit, his strides lengthening and increasing until he looks like he's straining himself against Haru's arms. His jockey allows him to break into a trot; Loch takes fast advantage of this to push off into a fast, bouncy rhythm to which Haru pushes himself up off the saddle into a crouch over his withers. His words are carried by the wind as he speaks softly to the pricked ears still pointed fixatedly at the distance ahead of them, but after several minutes of this, he finally inches his fingers up the reins and Loch reacts instantly. His canter is luckily not as bouncy as his trot, but Loch is still leaning against Haru with his shoulders, desperately pleading with him to let go. Years of breezing and races have given his rider a strong back and muscled shoulders, so Haru continues to resist Loch's wishes until they pass the finish line once more and he finally takes a proper contact.
It is a feeling he thinks he will never be able to experience on any other horse. Loch half-springs forwards, powerful hindquarters uncoiling to release all that suppressed energy as he surges forwards into a gallop. The wind is whipping against Haru's face, biting at his skin as he pushes his hands a little further up the thoroughbred's neck to encourage him to extend himself. Both horse and jockey are an arrow in the morning sunrise, slicing through the air with such a force that Haru is sure the sound of Loch's thundering hoofbeats are reverberating through his head. But like this he is once again nestled in that incomparable sensation between exhilaration and complete serenity, and there is no place that he has felt safer and at peace with everything around him.
Five minutes later after coming off the bridle, Loch's breathing is back to normal, but a damp sheen is still visible on his neck and behind his ears. As Haru turns him off the track and back to the barn, the sound of his name being called makes him twist in the saddle. A man strides out of the clubhouse, walking towards him with the manner of someone who is accustomed to having the world wait for him. Haru quickly notes the tailored suit and expression of superiority the man wears as he slowly approaches Loch and himself, finally coming to a stop some feet in front of him. His pale eyes travel over the stallion's elegant form appraisingly, calculating a brief assessment of his conformation before finally flicking upwards to his rider.
"You are Mr. Nanase?" Haru's response is a small, sharp nod. The man shifts his weight to one leg, pushing a hand into his trousers' pocket as he gestures towards Loch, who has started to chew on his bit as he descends into a working frame. "He looks a fine animal."
"He is." Haru's tone is measured, but slightly wary. The man's eyes are cold, grey flints that seem to bore into him, and although his smile is polite, it is artificial and insincere.
"Are you still at school?" This time, Haru feels as if he is the one being weighed and measured; those steely eyes look up him and down, and a crease pinches his brows together as if he seems doubtful of Haru's position on a thoroughbred of Loch's calibre. "They told me you were young, but I didn't expect you to be a lad still cramming your homework in between breaks and lunchtimes."
If a flicker of annoyance crosses Haru's features, the man is ignorant of it. "I'm in my last year." He is not entirely sure whether he has managed to keep the irritation from his tone. Loch shifts impatiently.
"Well, Mark thinks very highly of your ability on the track." He is referring to the manager of the stables, and it most likely answers as to how this man came out looking for Haru at such an early hour in the morning. "Told me how for the past couple of years you've been giving the winner's circle a stream of his horses."
Haru says nothing. Loch has now started gnawing on the toe of his boot; an old habit that Haru let him get away with when he started sitting in his stable for hours on end. He chooses to just let the man continue, as he has already sensed that he will soon come to the proper purpose of his conversation, and he still has four more horses to breeze.
"I have a couple of fillies and a stallion arriving tomorrow morning that are going to be racing for the first time this month. Would you be interested in them?" Almost as if in response, Loch twists back around and snorts. The man withdraws sharply, one hand reaching up to smooth the front of his jacket in reassurance. Haru's gaze drops down to his stallion, who is still watching the man with a mischievous glint in his eye. Deciding that a quick answer will prevent Loch from considering another cheeky attempt, Haru pushes his heels into his sides and Loch walks on gratefully.
"I'll try them the day after if you'd like. It might be a good idea to let them settle and get used to the yard before any exercise."
The expression he receives is one that is both obliged and oddly pleased. As Loch passes by, the man swiftly fishes out his wallet and extracting his contact details which he hands over to the young jockey.
"Eric Murstone. Pleased to make your acquaintance." And with that, he dips his head once and turns back to his car. Thankfully, he has the sense to let Loch and Haru pass before roaring the engine to life and pulling out of the drive.
As Haru dismounts, Loch blows out through his nostrils in a resounding chuff, pushing his muzzle against his rider's hip, who smiles amusedly at him before retrieving the polo packet from his pocket. Once satisfied with his reward, Loch allows Haru to untack him without protest, only flicking his tail once in Haru's face as he heads towards the tack room with his saddle and numnah. As he emerges from the tack-room, he is met by Goro, who is standing by Loch who is taking advantage of his old trainer's soft-heartedness by having his ears massaged again.
"He'll take himself out for a run one of these days if you continue to leave him untethered like this," Goro remarks as Haru approaches them wordlessly. He is secretly thankful that it is Goro who found Loch standing alone and not Mark, who although tolerates Haru's unique methods of handling his favourite horses, does not appreciate the hazard of having a seven hundred thousand pounds worth athlete charging like a tornado around his racing yard.
"He knows he's not to get any ideas like that." Haru extends an upturned palm and Loch transfers his affections to his faithful jockey, blowing gently into his hand. He is pretty certain that the stallion has already run through a considerate number of possibilities in his head, but the fact that he's never acted on them is enough for Haru to know that he will remain honest for a long time.
"That horse trusts you more than anyone in this stables," Goro comments as Haru rubs the heel of his palm against Loch's forehead. "I still remember you giving those new grooms the worst turn of their lives when they saw him wandering down the corridor without seeing you walking ahead of him." Haru can't help letting a small smile curve the corner of his mouth at the memory.
"I'll hot-walk him for you," Goro offers, taking hold of Loch's reins. Loch gives the groom a look that Haru silently swears looks offended. Goro chuckles heartily but adds, "you'll appreciate me more than that new kid that walked you last time. He looked like he was going to drop dead by the time you hauled him back." He runs a hand down Loch's neck caringly, and the young horse decides that perhaps this substitute might fare well better than the last.
Haru watches his stallion disappear around the side of barn before turning back into the tack-room. He assumes that Goro is taking Loch to one of the trails that Haru and some of the other exercise riders recently adopted as their cooling-off route, and tries to conciliate himself with the thought that Loch will enjoy the scenery, even though it will be without him. He quells his dampened mood by collecting the tack for his next horse, draping the bridle over his shoulder as he walks down to the stall where a dark bay stallion cranes his neck around inquisitively to watch Haru pull down the saddle rack set into the wall.
Extortionist is one Loch's half-brothers; Haru has often contemplated whether their matrilineal line has given them the remarkable speed they both possess, as they both descend from the famous mare Lochsong. The young horse nibbles at Haru's shirt while he cleans out his hooves and brushes down his coat before tacking him, taking care to tighten the girth carefully because he knows that he might have a pair of teeth sinking into his arm if he isn't gentle. He mounts Extortionist outside, who automatically begins to shuffle about restlessly, jogging on the spot with his ears pointed towards the direction of the racetrack.
It is a quarter past seven by the time Haru finishes cooling down his last ride. After a good forty minutes of dancing around the track, the chestnut filly he is riding is now walking on a loose rein with her nose stretched towards the ground, chewing on the bit as she stretches out her back muscles.
One of the grooms offers to wash her down and walk her for another ten minutes before putting her back in her stable. Haru allows himself to accept the girl's kind offer, because he can see that Loch has been eyeing him enviously from his end stable ever since he put Extortionist back in his stall and offered him some of Loch's favourite polos.
He returns to his stallion after fishing out a titbit for the chestnut filly, who tries her best to take his fingers along with the treat. He runs his hand under the hose before drying them on his breeches, reaching out to give Extortionist's muzzle an affectionate rub who noses him hopefully as he passes by. Loch waits patiently as Haru approaches, but immediately gives Haru a small shove in the stomach to inform him that he took a little too long. A small smile weaves across Haru's face as he leans against the stable door to knead his knuckles into the young thoroughbred's neck. He waits for the familiar twitch of his crest before Loch's head finally droops, pressing his weight into Haru's fingers.
They remain like that for several minutes until Goro comes looking for Haru. Loch's head jerks up as the groom cards a hand through his hair, a sign Haru recognises to convey Goro's frustration or anxiety about something.
"Mark's looking for you, Haru. Wants to talk to you at some point before he leaves to meet up with a woman interested in breeding her mare with one of our stallions."
"Which one?"
"Diamont. The woman must have money to roll in if she wants a foal from him."
Haru says nothing in response, but his thoughts have already carried him off into the beloved memory of a tiny little black colt flying across a green field with his mum cantering alongside him. He remembers standing by the gate, transfixed as the dark bay mare trots over to inspect him for food before turning back and leaving her foal standing several metres from him. He'd kept very still, his chest tight with contained excitement as the colt had taken a few cautious paces towards him and then off to the side, weighing up how curious he should get with this new stranger. Loch's mother had been surprisingly indulgent in allowing Haru to remain so close enough to her foal; she had stood a short distance away, watching attentively as the little colt took one small step closer until finally getting close enough to sniff Haru's fingers curled around the gate.
"I think I've lost your attention, haven't I?"
Goro's voice swims back into Haru's current train of thought, tugging him sharply out of his reverie. Loch's upper lip wiggles the fabric of his rider's shirt aside, trying to get at the polo packet in his breeches. Pushing himself off the stable door, Haru relents at the sight of Loch cocking his head to one side and stretching out his neck to pout at him pointedly.
"Was Mark in his office when he asked for me?"
"In the clubhouse, actually. He'd been talking to that man who was asking after you and wanting to move some of his youngsters here to train them." This memory draws a frown across Haru's solemn face. His old trainer notices and folds his arms over his chest. "I wasn't that struck on him either. He seemed a bit strange; like it wasn't horses that he was passionate about but rather the benefits you reap from them."
Haru finds himself feeling slightly more relieved at the fact that his senses weren't wrong earlier that morning. There has been a tightness in his gut since then telling him he wants nothing to do with a man who shares no interest in the magnificence of such beautiful creatures. But unfortunately, his say in the matter is limited at best.
"It looks like you've just gotten company," Goro observes, a grin crinkling his features as he raises a hand to greet a tall figure walking down the aisle towards them.
A boy with ruffled brown hair returns Goro's gesture with a wave. A few of the horses are curious enough to turn from munching their hay to poke their heads out over their doors, and the newcomer pauses to greet each one with a warm smile and a quick rub of their foreheads. As he finally reaches Loch's stall, the stallion considers him for a brief moment before tipping his head to one side again and trying his luck by pleading with him the same way he'd begged Haru a few moments before. The boy laughs, but holds up his hands apologetically. Loch retaliates with a snort of disapproval, but still gives him a nudge with his nose.
"Looks like someone's used to being spoiled," Makoto comments good-naturedly as Loch refocuses his attention back on Haru.
"It doesn't make him disrespectful, so I indulge him once in a while." Haru's fingers thread though Loch's thick forelock, fingers tracing the outline of his white star. "Didn't expect you to be here this early."
"I would've texted, but since you never carry your phone, there wasn't much point." There is a knowing look in Makoto's eyes that Haru has long since gotten used to, so he says nothing in response.
"Well he's here for almost the whole of the day, so it's not too difficult for Mark or someone else to try and find him," Goro points out jokingly, the mirth deepening his voice. "Speaking of which; you'd better go and find him now before he heads off."
Remorsefully, Haru gives Loch one last rub of his nose before setting off down the corridor. Makoto offers to redeem himself by asking for some of Haru's mints, and he pushes the half-eaten packet into his palm before striding down towards the drive.
Mark is already halfway down the clubhouse steps before he spots Haru walking towards him. "Ah, Haru. I can't talk right now because I'm supposed to be meeting someone at quarter past ten and it's going to take me a while to get there with all the traffic." Haru halts in mid-step, a little unsure of what to do now that he is subtly being dismissed, but Mark prevents any further discomfiture by asking, "what about tomorrow morning?"
Haru's reply is a simple nod, and Mark takes it as a good enough answer, because he gives his jockey a parting smile before sliding into his car and pulling out his phone to presumably call his potential client.
The journey back to the barn is with considerably more enthusiasm, but Haru's intentions are momentarily cut off at the sight of Makoto emerging outside. He is deep in conversation with Goro who is chortling loudly at whatever comical tale his former student is regaling him with, but upon catching sight of him, Makoto looks surprised.
"That was a short talk."
"He was in a rush, so he said tomorrow would be better." Haru starts trying to edge around the pair of them to get to the barn, but Makoto quickly sidesteps in front of him.
"Would you like to come to Riverhill and see me exercise Tamira?" His eyes are earnest and hopeful, and Haru briefly considers what would be an automatic refusal before reconsidering the idea. He hasn't seen Riverhill Equestrian Centre for almost the whole of summer and he does miss the horses there. He imagines how Loch would react to this proposal, and the thought of his wounded expression almost convinces him to say he can't because he still has to feed Loch's barn and clean the tack he's used.
Makoto has already sensed his hesitation, because he quickly adds, "My mum dropped me off here on her way to work, so I don't have transport to the yard."
"You did that on purpose didn't you?" It could have been a biting remark, but there is a familiar sparkle in his winter-blue gaze that Makoto distinguishes as Haru's bitter way of teasing. He gives Haru a sheepish, lopsided grin.
"Well, Nagisa messaged me the other day begging me to try and get you to come down at some point. Plus I'm sure Calantha would love to see you."
All of a sudden, Haru is aware of the rigidness in his upper body. His heart seems to push against ribs at the mention of Calantha's name, and he knows that it is nostalgia tugging at him. Goro reaches out to clap a hand down on Haru's shoulder and squeeze it.
"I can feed the horses myself in a few hours. And I'm sure Alex wouldn't mind helping me polish up the tack while you visit your other four-legged friends over there."
Haru is silent, trapped in a state of deliberation that leaves Makoto shifting his weight from one foot to the other anxiously while Goro watches the both of them with an inexplicable air of exasperated humour. Eventually, he wordlessly steps around Makoto to disappear into the tack-room for a minute, returning with his car key and two fresh packets of polos.
Rin bites out a sarcastic comment at the choice of the radio channel his sister has chosen. She retaliates with her own cutting retort, prodding the button that increases the volume hastily to drown out any further complaints from her brother, who is pointing out that he has had about four hours of disrupted sleep and is being considerate enough to take her to her riding lesson.
"It's not my fault you took the train late last night and not in the morning. You would've had plenty of time to recuperate if you hadn't left your yard so late because you couldn't pull yourself away from that stallion of yours."
"That's rich coming from you," Rin throws back. But Kou has already pulled out a book and is propping her knees up against the dashboard in a very clear gesture that she is no longer going to pay any more attention to her brother's irritability. He digs his thumbs into the leather of the steering wheel, trying his best not to grind his jaw as he settles himself for the upcoming half an hour drive down to Riverhill.