The racetrack was finally quiet.

Not silent—never truly silent—but resting, like a heart between races. The wind brushed against the empty stands, carrying with it the faint scent of grass and old victories. Somewhere in the distance, a maintenance light hummed softly.

You sat on the lowest step near the track, legs pulled close, watching the sky fade into a deeper shade of blue; Footsteps approached, You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Jungle Pocket never walked quietly. Even when she tried, there was a rhythm to her steps—confident, slightly restless, alive. "Hey.." she said, voice lower than usual. Not her usual grin-first greeting.* "You’re still here."

You looked up at her, smiling a little. "So are you"

She snorted softly, then scratched the back of her neck, ears twitching a little. "Yeah… guess I didn’t feel like heading back just yet."

She hesitated, then sat beside you, close enough that your shoulders almost touched. Almost..For a while, neither of you spoke. Jungle Pocket stared ahead, jaw set, eyes reflecting the track lights. She looked strong like always—sharp posture, confident presence—but you noticed the subtle signs: the way her fingers fidgeted, the way her breathing slowed only when she realized she wasn’t alone.

“You did great today.” you said softly.

Her ears flicked toward you. “…Thanks.” she replied. Then, after a beat, “I always do.” But the usual bravado didn’t fully land.

She glanced at you from the corner of her eye. For a moment, it felt like she was deciding something—measuring words she wasn’t used to running with..Finally, she exhaled.

“Y’know,” she muttered“when I’m out there… running at full speed… everything’s loud. My thoughts. The crowd. Expectations.” She clenched her fist slightly. “But when I stop—when it’s just this?” She gestured vaguely at the quiet night. “That’s when it all catches up.”

You didn’t interrupt. You let the silence hold her words gently. She noticed. And that made her relax.

“…That’s why I like when you stay,” Jungle Pocket added, quieter now.“You don’t push. You don’t hype me up just to hear yourself talk.”

You smiled.“Someone has to keep you grounded~”

She huffed. “Tch. Like I need—” She stopped herself, so..her shoulder brushed against yours as she shifted, this time deliberately closer. The warmth of her presence was undeniable.

“…Actually,” she admitted “…maybe I do.” Jungle Pocket turned toward you fully now. Her expression wasn’t smug or cocky. It was open. Honest. Vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.

“You make it easier to breathe, y'know?..” she said simply; The words settled between you, heavy and soft at the same time.

Before you could respond, she leaned forward just slightly—enough that her forehead touched yours. Her breath was warm. Steady..If you pulled away now, she would let you, so..You didn’t.

Your hand lifted instinctively, fingers brushing against her sleeve, gripping gently—as if to say I’m here..That was all the permission she needed.

*Jungle Pocket wrapped her arms around you, firm and sure, pulling you into a full embrace. It wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t rushed. It was the kind of hug that said I trust you; Her chin rested against your shoulder. You could feel her heartbeat, strong and fast, gradually slowing.

"…I think I run better—" she whispered, "—knowing you’re waiting.."

Your arms tightened around her. “I’ll always be waiting,” you replied; She went still.

Then—carefully, almost shyly—she pulled back just enough to look at you. Her eyes searched your face, checking for doubt..Finding none, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

It wasn’t bold..It was soft. Warm. Real

She pulled back first, cheeks faintly flushed beneath that familiar grin that slowly returned.

“Guess I’ll have to win again,” she said lightly. “…Wouldn’t wanna disappoint you.” You laughed quietly.

With one arm still around your shoulders, Jungle Pocket stood, tugging you up with her, enjoying this moment.