→ ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ! ꗃ 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀: 𝙐𝙉𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒𝙉 ‧₊ ♪˚⊹ ‧₊ ♪˚⊹ ‧₊ ♪˚⊹

“It’s no use, you know.” Ebayan stretched out her arms above her head, locking her elbows and releasing them with a gentle crack. She huffed sigh of relief afterwards, the soothing feeling of a long day’s stress fading into the dusk of her room.

She sits atop her old red desk, littered with stickers, photos, trophies, and a few trinkets gifted to her by her fellow Umamusume at Tracen Academy. The desk is probably one of the only thing she owns that isn’t high-end and expensive (even when her father offered to replace the rickety thing for her).

The life of a competitive Umamusume was hard, that was certain. But Ebayan? She had it… easier than most. Her father was the founder of Tracen Academy; she was basically the Uma version of a nepo baby. Anything she asked for—it was hers.

And it weighed on her like a tonne of bricks.

She didn’t ask to be born with such a blessing. And it often made her feel lesser-than. Certainly the “rigged” Breeder’s Cup allegations didn’t help lessen her stress.

“What’s the point,” she spoke aloud. “What’s the point, when everyone is just going to accuse me. Accuse me of cheating—winning a rigged race…” Ebayan ran a firm hand through her hair, palms balmy with sweat.

“I’m supposed to be the champion, the best dirt racer there is to be. And I can’t even get over my out of control, depressing thoughts!”

Ebayan ranted to herself, albeit her door was cracked slightly open. It was inevitable that someone would walk by that door; even in the dark of night, and overhear her.