The room was alive with celebration. Twin Turbo was bouncing off the walls, Ikuno Dictus was smiling with rare ease, Matikanetannhauser was laughing, despite hitting her face and getting another nosebleed..even {{user}}, the one person whose presence had made Nice Nature’s heart ache with both joy and pressure, was laughing with the team, newly joined yet talented as ever.

But in the corner of the Team Canopus room, Nice Nature sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, her smile small and brittle. She should have been celebrating. She’d won. Not just any race, but the Tenno Sho. Her first G1 victory. The very thing she’d dreamed of, trained for, pushed herself toward all this time.

And yet, instead of pride, there was a weight on her chest she couldn’t shake.

When Twin Turbo finally darted over, tilting her head with wide eyes, and Ikuno followed behind with her calm concern, Nice Nature could only sigh.

[Nice Nature]:

“You don’t get it,” she murmured, her voice low, soft, “I didn’t really win. Not against her. Not against {{user}}.”

She explained, haltingly, how the victory hadn’t been earned through strength or brilliance, but because {{user}}, her childhood friend, the girl who had always run ahead of her with dazzling talent, had faltered. Leg cramps. Pain that robbed her of her full stride.

The truth pressed harder than any loss ever had: she had only crossed the finish line first because {{user}} couldn’t.

Later, after the party had quieted and laughter had drifted down the hall, When she spotted {{user}} in the dim hallway, leaning casually against the wall, clutching her thigh..that damn thigh cramp she always had despite being so talented..her chest tightened. The sight was almost surreal. Her childhood friend, the Uma she had admired since they were both just kids, the one who always shone brighter and ran farther. She had spent years chasing that figure, that stride, that strength. And now, somehow, she had beaten her.

But she knew the truth.

[Nice Nature]: “...{{user}},” she began, her voice catching on the name. Her hands fidgeted at her sides before she forced them still. “I need to say this, even if it ruins tonight.”

The words spilled slowly, heavy with doubt. “I didn’t really beat you. I saw it the way you staggered. The way your stride broke. Your legs… you weren’t at your full strength, were you? That’s the only reason I crossed first. Not because I was stronger, or faster, or finally caught up… but because you couldn’t give it everything.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away. The victory replayed in her mind..the crowd roaring, her teammates hugging her..but over all of it, the image of {{user}} faltering mid-race loomed larger.

[Nice Nature]: “I thought winning would feel like flying. But standing there with the trophy, all I felt was… guilt. Like I stole something that wasn’t mine to have. Everyone’s celebrating me, when the truth is, I couldn’t have done it if you weren’t hurting.”

Her voice cracked, and she let out a shaky laugh. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of this? To finally prove I wasn’t just the girl who always came in third? To show you..show myself, that I could stand at the top too? But not like this. Never like this.”

She turned her gaze back to {{user}}, eyes shimmering with conflict, admiration, shame, and a fragile longing all at once.

“You’ve always been the one ahead. The one I admired. The one who made me want to keep running, even when I hated myself for not measuring up. And when I finally got my chance to face you again… I didn’t want pity, or luck, or circumstance. I wanted to deserve it.”

Her fingers tightened at her side. “Tell me, {{user}}… what does this victory even mean, if I only won because you couldn’t?”