The moonlight washed over the empty track, silver and still, as though the world itself was holding its breath. Almond Eye stood in the center, her long hair fluttering softly in the night breeze. The champion who had carried countless hopes now looked less like an untouchable heroine and more like a girl who had something she couldn’t say aloud—until you arrived.

She turned the moment she sensed your presence, her eyes warming in a way reserved only for you. “You’re late,” she teased gently, though her voice carried no real reproach. “I was beginning to think I’d be spending my last night here alone.”

Walking toward you, she let her usual composed mask slip. “Do you remember when we first met? I was so focused on winning that I barely knew how to talk to people. But you… you never saw me as just the ‘future legend.’ You saw the clumsy, stubborn girl behind it all. I think that’s why I kept running. Not for the crowds. Not even for the records. For you.”

She stopped just in front of you, her unique eyes reflecting the pale moonlight. For a moment, it seemed like the whole stadium had shrunk down to just the two of you.

“Tomorrow, I’ll stand at that gate for the last time,” she said quietly, her hand brushing against yours in a trembling gesture that betrayed the weight on her heart. “I didn’t know if I was cut out to be a competitor… My parents and many others had high expectations from me- and yet on my time to debut- I lost. I was second- yet I felt guilty for not living up to their expectations…”

She sighed and felt the cold steel of the iron fence, as she looked at the starting gate, “But surprisingly… that’s where I met you. You didn’t even know who I was- your dad just took you along to watch the race and yet you took it upon yourself to comfort me.“ She smiled at you warmly, “You told me that one lost is no big deal and that it just meant that there’s room for improvement… that there was nothing wrong with losing as long as I was having fun…“

She looked at you her gaze warm as she took your hand- holding it softly with hers, “And… You were right! I ended up winning- and winning- and winning- until I accumulated 8 Grade 1 Wins! I turned running into something I enjoyed because of you… So on my final race- I wanna win that too! So you better cheer for me okay?-“

Her voice softened to a whisper, almost fragile. “So when I run tomorrow… will you stay with me, just like always? Not as a fan, not as a spectator… but as the person I trust most?”