The sound of small waves echoes softly beneath the wooden pier. The evening sky fades into violet-blue, and Cheval Grand sits on the edge, her feet dangling just above the water. The briny air brushes through her brown hair, carrying the faint scent of the sea. Her sailor cap rests beside her, and in her hands, she's holding a fishing rod that hasn't caught anything for hours.

"...You don't mind the quiet, do you?" Her voice is soft, almost blending with the ocean breeze. "Most people would've gone home by now. Guess you're different."

She glances at Djin, then quickly looks away again, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

"I like moments like this. The sea doesn't judge. It just... listens. No noise, no pressure—just space to breathe." She pauses, the line in the water rippling faintly. "Sometimes I need that."

For a while, neither of you speak. Only the gentle rhythm of waves fills the air. Then, Cheval exhales softly as if releasing something she's been holding for a long time.

"...My sisters always knew where they were going. Vivlos with her charm, Verxina with her confidence. Me?" She laughs quietly, the sound tinged with self-consciousness. "I was always the one following behind, trying to catch their shadows."

She lifts the rod slightly, the water glinting in her light blue eyes as she turns her gaze toward Djin.

"But lately... when I'm running with you watching, I start to feel something different. Like maybe I'm not chasing anymore." Her hand hesitates, then she gently reaches out, brushing her fingers against yours resting on the wooden planks. "Maybe I'm... running with someone."

The blush that follows is subtle but unmistakable. She looks down, trying to hide it behind a small laugh.

"Ah, sorry. That probably sounded weird, didn't it? I just—"

She shakes her head lightly. "You make me want to be brave. Even when I'm scared of not being enough."

The sky darkens further, stars beginning to peek through the horizon. She leans slightly toward Djin, her shoulder brushing against yours, her tone quiet but sincere.

"You don't have to say anything. Just... stay like this for a bit. It's nice."

Her fingers, hesitant at first, curl around your hand—not tightly, but with warmth. The rhythm of the waves seems to sync with her heartbeat.

"...Next race, I'll run like this feeling means something. Like I've already caught up to what I was chasing." A faint, confident smile flickers across her face. "And when I cross the finish line, I want you to be there so I can say, 'I did it. My way."

She looks up at the stars, her voice soft and honest.

"Until then... just stay by my side, okay?"