Author's note: Sorry this chapter took so long. You'll soon learn that my updates will be slow, mainly because the competition season has just started and I'm now teaching at my old stables on top of training at my current one.
I thought I'd better explain this now in case there's any confusion: this story is set in England with the idea that Haru, Makoto, Rin and Nagisa met as children at Riverhill due to having group lessons together. I decided to use England because I know the racing systems there better than in other countries like America or Australia. I know that Japan has gotten big into racing, but in order to facilitate the other equestrian sports like cross-country and show-jumping that Nagisa and Makoto do, I thought England would be the easiest 'cause it's a very horsey country.
Riverhill
The area surrounding Haru's old stables is blanketed in thick forestland, with trees and shrubbery bordering the edges of the road. This makes it difficult when a large tractor comes rolling around a bend, and Haru is forced to slow down to a crawl and squeeze his little Ford Fiesta past. Turning off down a wide, sandy pathway leading to the drive, he pulls aside and stops to let several riders going out on a hack pass by safely.
As he watches their progress in his rear-view mirror, he begins to ease his foot off the brake when a booted toe reaches out and thuds on the passenger window. Makoto yelps, instinctively grabbing at his seatbelt as he lurches himself away from the glass towards Haru, who just manages not to slam down on the brakes again and jolt the car. He is lucky that his instincts have obeyed him, because standing right next to the car is a buckskin horse, and the rider who leans down precariously from its saddle is a boy with dishevelled blond hair peeking out from beneath his helmet.
"Mako-chan! Haru-chan!"
"Nagisa?!" Makoto gawps confoundedly at the sight of the boy dangling haphazardly beside him.
"Roll your window down! I want to talk you." As Makoto obliges, the buckskin swivels to push his nose into the car and blow cheekily into the passenger's face.
"Oh, hello Chunky." Makoto chuckles as the horse wiggles his lips against his outstretched fingers.
"He's probably looking for Haru's polos," Nagisa remarks wisely, giving the gelding an affectionate pat. At this, Haru's eyes flick down towards the two packets sitting in the cup-holder. The gelding has spotted them as well, because he tries to stretch further into the car, flattening Makoto against the seat in an eager attempt to reach the mints. Nagisa shortens his reins slowly and squeezes his heels into the buckskin's sides with a cluck of his tongue; thankfully, Chunky takes this instruction with respect and extracts his head.
"You could have spooked him, you know," Makoto points out critically, grimacing as the horse licks the palm of his hand in the hope that his demand has been transferred correctly. The gelding blinks at him with large, questioning eyes.
"Nah, he's bombproof. He needs to be on the courses we do."
"Can I move on?" Haru leans forwards in his seat to peer past Makoto wiping his hand on his breeches, and Nagisa's eyes brighten immediately at the sight of him.
"Sure you can. We'll walk alongside."
When Haru finally turns into an empty space, Nagisa dismounts lightly beside the car and fishes out a piece of carrot from his jacket.
"Thanks for nearly breaking the window." As Haru rounds the back of the car, Chunky's ears swivel forwards at the sight of a familiar face. He begins to push against Nagisa, who seems to slide a foot across the sand as his horse urges him enthusiastically towards Haru.
"Ooh, sorry—wasn't just thinking. Is there any damage?" Anxiety flickers momentarily across Nagisa's expression as he squints at the glass. He quickly pulls Chunky's head away from Haru when the gelding tries to make another beeline for him, his mischievous eyes fixated on the pocket where the carrot had come from.
"No, but remember it's not exactly mine." Haru thinks unconsciously of Mark showing him the little Ford several months ago before pushing the key into his hand with a grin.
"Did you go for a hack by yourself?" Always ready to jump in as peacekeeper, Makoto manipulates the subject skilfully by directing their attention towards Chunky, who has decided to redirect his attention by browsing the taller boy expectantly for treats.
"I finished schooling him half an hour ago and thought I'd kill time waiting by taking him for a walk through one of the fields." Nagisa rubs the gelding's forehead affectionately, combing his fingers through his untidy forelock and prying a piece of wood shaving from the strands. He immediately has to transfer his own weight against the gelding when begins to scratch his head eagerly against his rider's shoulder.
Haru regards the little buckskin thoughtfully. In truth, he isn't that small, standing at about sixteen-two hands, but perhaps it's Makoto, who towers over both Nagisa and Chunky that makes him look smaller. Chunky, short for 'Chunky Monkey', is a fearless, Irish-bred machine of bottled energy that can explode with the force of a cannon if his rider encourages him. With an impressive amount of endurance and agile on a sharp turn, it is no wonder he and his rider have often walked away from competitions with numerous placings.
Relenting, Haru fishes out one of the polo packets and digs out several of the mints as Makoto gives Chunky a final pat before heading towards the stables. As they lead his horse towards the second barn, Nagisa maintains an animated conversation with Haru, whose responses are considerably less elaborated.
"Are you going to ride Calantha? It's been years since the three of us had a lesson together."
"I'd have to get permission from someone."
"Hmm, I'm sure you wouldn't need to. You used to spend every waking hour up here before you ditched us for Topthorn." Nagisa grins at the sight of Haru's face working itself into his familiar pout. "Not that I'm having a go," he throws in, his nonchalance a transparent façade as he looks contemplative. "I suppose I should have seen it—finding more freedom in racing than dressage."
Haru does not provide a response to this. Once again, his mind has already carried him back into the past. Three years ago, he was pushing Calantha into a half-pass across the centre to the opposite quarter line, ignoring the looks of admiration and awe from small children and their parents as he schooled the mare alone in one of the dressage arenas. He remembers the years before that: Makoto, looking slightly nervous but excited at the course of fences Goro sets up for them during one of their lessons, and Nagisa bridging his reins with unbridled anticipation as their old trainer points them towards a small upright to warm up over. He, walking idly around on Calantha, had declined the offer to jump, much to Nagisa's loud disappointment and Makoto's quiet amenability. Although his mare would have had no objection in popping over a small course, he knows that her heart lies more in executing an impressive extended trot or canter pirouette, and he would rather allow her to prove her worth there than in a speciality that neither of them have been overly interested in doing.
Chunky reaches out to push at his hip for more polos, and Haru swiftly withdraws from his recollections to give the gelding a rub under his chin. Trying to deter the cheeky horse from giving him a playful shove, they reach the entrance of the barn where Nagisa starts to unbuckle the girth and Haru willingly reaches down to remove Chunky's tendon boots. Waiting for Nagisa to return with a headcollar, Haru's fingers wander up the buckskin's forehead to rub at his ears. By the time the younger boy returns, swinging the lead-rope around his wrist, Chunky is leaning against Haru with his eyes closed, angling his head to give his masseuse better access to his ears.
"If I'd known for sure that you were coming, I would have offered you a ride on him," Nagisa comments as Haru finishes undoing the noseband and slips the bridle off. Chunky cranes his neck around to itch his flank, twisting so awkwardly that Nagisa shakes his head in disbelief before fastening the headcollar around his head.
By the time they scrape the excess water off the little gelding, Haru is practically soaked. He is pretty certain that Nagisa was a little more exuberant with the hose than necessary, but for some unexplainable reason, the coolness against his skin is soothing, despite the fact that it is twenty degrees outside. After putting Chunky back in his stall and covering him with a light net blanket, Haru stands by his door and placates him with a few more polos until Makoto steps out from a stable leading a bright bay mare.
Tall yet finely built, Tamira is a lovely mare to admire aesthetically. Haru can't help his eyes roving over her long, muscled legs, elegant head and leaf-shaped ears that flick back and forth at the sounds of rustling bedding and distant shouts of instructions outside. As Makoto wedges his foot into the stirrup and mounts, she turns to regard Haru astutely. Her brown, intelligent eyes are inquisitive but comprehending; it feels a little peculiar wondering just how much she can read him at that moment. But then Makoto nudges her gently, and she responds with quiet obedience, giving a short swish of her tail that almost catches Nagisa in the face as they both set off towards an empty arena away from the riding school.
Once in the ring, Makoto is quick to make sure that Nagisa has closed the gate behind them securely. Although Tamira is one of the most honest horses he has ever ridden, she is easy to startle and often skittish for reasons he has never quite been able to fathom. He gives her a loose rein to begin with, flexing the mare to the left and right for several strides and pushing her walk forwards to encourage her to stretch out. After a couple of minutes, he gathers up his reins and moves into a trot, still flexing Tamira's neck to and fro and circling around several small jumps before changing direction. She is keen to respond; he flexes her for a little longer to the left, because it is her stiffer side, and after throwing in a few trot-walk, walk-trot transitions, he quickly resolves to improve upon getting her to use her back and haunches more when she goes into the downward movement.
He becomes aware of Nagisa throwing a leg over the lower rail of the fence to clamber into the arena, and he angles Tamira into a shoulder-in away from the younger boy's direction to detract her from spooking at the new movement. As he allows himself to throw a quick glance over towards the others, Nagisa gesticulates wildly, pointing to the small jumps he previously circled.
"Do you want me to put up some crosses?"
Automatically, Makoto shakes his head before shouting back. "No, I won't jump today. But could you set out some cavaletti poles instead?"
As Nagisa enthusiastically begins to heave a pole over to the centre of the ring, Haru languidly slides a leg across the bar of the fence to enter last. He wears an impassive expression as Nagisa eagerly points out to the jumps dispersed around the arena, but displays no visible signs of grievance in allowing himself to be manoeuvred around, collecting poles and counting the strides in between. Makoto circles Tamira not too far away, re-joins the track and bends her neck inwards, pushing her haunches further out in a travers movement before sneaking a few glances at the others working to lay out his planned exercise. He can't help a small smile crinkling his features as he sees Nagisa thrust several plastic jumping blocks into Haru's arms for him to prop up the poles before re-measuring the distances meticulously.
After straightening Tamira up down the long side, Makoto urges her into an extended trot, secretly marvelling at the way she immediately responds to his aids and how she flicks out her hooves. Satisfied, he then begins to collect her down the second-half. The mare is less willing to close than to open out; he starts to apply more leg when she suddenly pivots away to the inside, skidding as she whirls to face the fence line and snorts loudly. His heart rockets up his throat into his mouth as he instinctively grips with his thighs, fingers tightening on the reins. He can feel his upper body swaying slightly at the momentum of the sudden movement. The increased contact of his hold only unnerves Tamira more; she prances to the right, her neck almost vertical and ears fixed forwards as she blows loudly through her nostrils again. Makoto tries to soothe her, reaching out to run a hand down her neck and rubbing her shoulder, but she pays him no heed.
"What happened?" Nagisa's voice breaks the tension, almost drowned out by the sound of Tamira's snort that has now become more dragon-like than horse.
"No idea," Makoto calls in exasperation, even though he senses a tenor of fear in his tone. He gathers up his reins, closes his thighs tighter and pushes Tamira forwards, clicking to try to reel her attention back. She moves off, but he can feel the stiffness in her movements, and her head is still angled towards the outside as if determined to keep an eye on the ominous threat. He urges her to trot, circling wide and coming back to the fence line, resolved to take her past quietly. The mare is still tense, her back taut as a wire, but she does not shy away.
He hears Nagisa calling, telling him that the poles are ready. He tears his gaze from Tamira to the middle of the arena, where he spots younger boy waving to catch his attention. Haru has taken a seat on one of the jumping blocks, his face unreadable as he watches Makoto turn his mare towards the centre and go into a sitting trot. The sight of the new exercise sends Tamira practically running forwards, and Makoto lets his weight drop deeper into the saddle, collecting her stride as they approach. The mare picks up beautifully, her set mentality not to touch any pole carrying through her elevations, which paints a wide grin across Makoto's face as he finishes the turn and comes back. Haru hasn't moved from his perch on the jumping block; when Makoto teases him by asking whether he really trusts Tamira enough not to move away from her, Haru says he'd know before she could try.
Makoto finally puts his foot down in preventing Nagisa elevating the poles higher than twelve inches. Deciding to invest some more time on her canter work, he moves away from the centre and asks for the canter. It has always been his favourite gait; her movement rocks him slightly in the saddle, but her forward pace gives her a smooth rhythm that makes her comfortable on a course. He flexes her to each side before circling and changing leads to repeat the movement on the other rein. After a few leg-yields, he gives her a short breather, allowing her to wander back to the middle where Nagisa is attempting the cavaletti exercise himself, awkwardly hopping over the poles as he picks up his legs comically and flaps his arms. Tamira watches him with interest, her head raised slightly as if a little unsure of what to make of this sight. But Makoto swears that if she could, she would have smirked.
"I reckon I'd make a good show jumper myself," Nagisa declares as he walks back to Haru. "I could do the six-bar."
"You'd probably fall flat on your face," Haru remarks indifferently.
"Not as a horse." Nagisa straightens, rolling back his shoulders and standing tall. At the sight of Makoto and Tamira walking over, his head tilts to one side thoughtfully. "Done already?"
"Just a little more canter work." Makoto runs his fingers through Tamira's silky black mane before looking down at Haru considerately. "I'm almost finished, so you can go and see Calantha now if you want."
Haru's sea-coloured eyes flit upwards in response. Although his face is composed as usual, Makoto recognises the keenness in his gaze and subtle shifting of his feet in suppressed anticipation. With a knowing small smile, he adds, "see you in ten."
He isn't surprised when Haru stands quickly, reaches out to trail his fingers down Tamira's face tenderly before turning to head off swiftly towards the gate. Watching him go, Makoto smiles at the unusually sharp movements of his walk, sensing that Haru is attempting to contain his excitement as he slips out of the arena and heads towards the first barn.
The smells of horses and hay seep out from the barn up through Haru's nose as he strides inside. Glancing down the aisle, he can see that several doors are open wide, their occupants obviously out on hacks or in lessons. A few of the horses that are still inside lift their heads from dozing as he passes by, and a friendly bay stretches out his neck to nudge his shoulder as Haru strokes his nose. He stops at the gold plaque engraved with a familiar name, and when he leans over the stable door, his words are like soft music as he calls to her.
A grey mare looks up curiously from nibbling the leftovers of her hay. Upon seeing Haru's face, her ears prick forwards and she abandons her foraging to quickly walk over and lean her muzzle into her old rider's outstretched palm. Smoothing the forelock from her dark, kind eyes, Haru kisses the velvet of her muzzle before retrieving his polo packet and digging out several. A small smile graces his features as the mare's breath begins to turn minty after eating a quarter of the packet. Reaching up to rub her crest behind her ears, he watches as her upper lip droops in contentment, wiggling slightly as he finds a comfortable spot lower down her neck. She leans further down to give him better access, and he shifts a little closer to let her rest her chin on his shoulder as he continues to press circles into her skin. Laying his cheek against hers, he tips his head back to whisper in her ear.
"I'm sorry it's been so long." She seems to lean a little further into his shoulder at this.
Nostalgia sweeps over him as Haru closes his eyes and lets his thoughts carry him back. He is twelve years old, walking Calantha on a twenty metre circle as Makoto breaks from the group to canter around the arena, then come across the diagonal and execute a smooth flying change. When it is his turn, he gathers his reins a little shorter, his index finger rubbing her wither soothingly before he asks her for a walk-canter transition. His mare gives a small spring, her shoulders rising and haunches coiled tightly, but doesn't toss her head disrespectfully, letting Haru sit to her rhythm and take her around the track before turning for the diagonal and shifting his outside leg back barely an inch. It is as if Calantha has already predicted this command; she has done it so many times before and she is determined to give a good performance. As they make a graceful downward transition to walk, Goro calls them over so that he can suggest a new movement that perhaps the pair of them can practise on while he starts to set up some small cross-poles for Nagisa and Makoto.
Five minutes later, Nagisa whoops gleefully as his little bay gelding soars over the last cross, dropping his reins after slowing to a walk to pat his horse with both hands. Swivelling round, Goro studies Haru and Calantha's progress along the diagonal, and a wide grin splits his face as he watches the grey mare switch into a series of elegant two-tempis changes across the arena. When they come over to him, Goro reaches out to clap a hand on Calantha's neck proudly.
"You should think about entering some dressage competitions at some point," he suggests, a note of excitement colouring his voice. "She's never done more than a few fun dressage tests here over the years, but you two could really sweep the judges off their feet with those movements even in a novice class."
Haru's gaze wanders across to Makoto and Nagisa, the latter giving him the thumbs-up and winking encouragingly. Makoto's smile is familiarly warm and genuine. Sliding his fingers through Calantha's silvery mane, he rubs her wither again with his finger unconsciously.
"I'll think about it," he says casually. But his eyes are shining as he answers.
"Urgh." Nagisa hastily wipes the sweat from Tamira's neck on her numnah. The mare cranes her neck round to eye him reproachfully, her tail swishing as Makoto gives her an appreciative pat and a kiss on the crest.
"Think I'll walk her a bit more before taking her back." Makoto looks at the dampness of Tamira's coat and squeezes her into a walk. Nagisa keeps up alongside, to which the mare sees as an opportunity to itch her forehead vigorously against his shoulder, almost sending him tripping into the dirt.
"If your horse didn't weigh over a thousand pounds I'd shove her back."
A shrewd smile lifts the corners of Makoto's mouth as Tamira stretches to give Nagisa another hearty shove. Shortening the contact of his reins, he fiddles with the bit to steer her away, tutting disapprovingly when he notices her altering her pace ever so slightly to keep parallel to the younger boy.
"So how did you convince Haru-chan to come?"
The cunning expression on Makoto's face is suddenly emphasised by the mischievous gleam in his eyes. "What do you think? Only the prospect of seeing a horse is going motivate Haru into doing anything."
"Hmm, you play him too easily, Mako-chan." Nagisa's cheeky grin is infectious. Makoto can't help but mirror it.
"Only because he makes it too easy."
They are passing the far side of the arena when the sound of clopping hooves jerks Tamira's head up sharply. By instinct, Makoto's fingers clench around the reins, whitening the tops of his knuckles as the mare beneath him scoots to the left, narrowly avoiding Nagisa's foot as she swings her haunches to face the approaching horse.
It is a few more seconds before they catch a glimpse of a piebald horse plodding alongside a girl and a riding-school instructor Makoto automatically recognises. Although the girl's helmet is still securely fastened, Makoto is sure that Nagisa too can make out the glint of auburn hair tucked behind her ear.
"Gou-chan!" Nagisa dodges around Tamira to throw up an arm in greeting, waving energetically at the girl who halts in abrupt surprise.
Even from a distance, Makoto notes how Kou has grown taller over the summer. In comparison to the couple of months before summer, she now stands almost level with the gelding's withers. Her body language has also changed; her tall confidence shadows the hesitant shakiness he had seen tremor through her body when she had first been given the piebald to ride. Now, she doesn't mind when he nudges her roughly as she stops by the fence where Nagisa has hoisted himself up onto to talk to her. Pressing his heels into Tamira, he directs her over to them, where Kou is absentmindedly tickling her horse's chin as he fiddles the hem of her shirt with his lips.
"I didn't know you came up in the mornings, Nagisa-kun."
"Eh, usually I don't, but Haru-chan exercises his horses at five-whatever in the morning and I asked Mako-chan to invite him over after he finished breezing."
"Haruka-senpai is here?" Kou's eyes peruse the arena almost automatically, then sweep towards the direction of the barns. "That's a good coincidence, because my brother is too."
"Here?" Makoto hears himself ask, words tumbling from his lips. Catching sight of him and Tamira, Kou's eyes brighten as the bay mare delicately reaches out to sniff the piebald gelding, whose ears prick up instantly as he thrusts his own nose forwards.
"Mm. He only got off the train two and a half hours ago, but because mum had to leave for an early appointment she asked him to take me."
"But that's great," Nagisa insists avidly, legs dangling off both sides of the fence as he rocks back and forth. "We haven't seen Rin-chan since before summer at Newmarket."
"We were thinking of going out for lunch after finishing up here," Makoto puts in, unconsciously twining his fingers in Tamira's mane. "You and Rin are welcome to come if you have the time."
Kou's expression lights up with an eagerness akin to Nagisa's. "I'll ask my brother as soon as I untack Bellero and put him back in his stable." She gives the gelding a fond scratch behind his ears before turning him away and towards the barns. Nagisa pulls his leg over the fence and hurries to join her, launching straight into a list of ideal places to celebrate a reunion accompanied by delicious food.
Makoto leans forwards to smooth his palm down Tamira's neck. She stirs from her doze; ears flicking forward when he leans forwards to murmur that a bag of carrots are waiting for her back at the barn.
Haru doesn't realise how much he has missed Calantha until he unlocks her stable door and settled himself in the corner with her nose resting in his lap. She stands over him like a mother to a foal, eyes closed contentedly, her breath warm in his palms as he slowly strokes her face and traces patterns against her cheek.
If someone were to find him sitting there, he wouldn't care. The thought of Makoto and Nagisa coming to look for him is almost upsetting. Shuffling a little further into the corner, he hopes that if someone does throw a glance towards their stall, they will only see a grey mare dozing peacefully.
When the resonating footsteps of someone entering the barn pulls his mare from their cocoon of solitude, Haru sucks in an exasperated sigh. He keeps his eyes focused on Calantha and watches her ears move, trying to trace the rhythm of the footfalls to either Makoto or Nagisa. After a few seconds, he finds himself ceasing attempts to pinpoint the pace of footsteps to either of them. Tearing his gaze away from his mare, he snatches a quick glance upwards and sees nothing. But about half a minute later, a tall boy with dark red hair leans over the stable door and pauses upon seeing him sitting cross-legged on the ground with Calantha's muzzle resting in his hands. Haru's face is set and indecipherable. But Rin merely lets a wide smirk quirk the corners of his mouth and releases a short huff of laughter.
"I knew you'd be here."
