Wish upon a Star (A LATAM Umamusume story!)

[Zyriam]

"Into the final stretch they come! Maruzensky in front, flying away!"

The lone Umamusume accelerated as the race entered the final spurt, breaking clear of the pack. Her chestnut hair streamed behind her in the summer wind, her ribbon barely holding on due to her speed.

"She's too powerful! The gap is five lengths, six lengths, seven! It's still growing!"

Her smile widened as her strides lengthened. The others pushed, desperate to close in, but none could match her speed. None could rival The Beast.

"The rest of the field cannot catch her, Maruzensky is flying alone down the straight!"

Her crimson uniform blazed like fire against the green turf, though to the stands she was only a streak of red. Every step thundered, as if she was driving her beloved supercar.

"Nine lengths clear at the finish! Absolute domination! Maruzensky wins the Yasuda Kinen!"

The stands erupted in cheers as she raised her arms in triumph. One by one, the other Umamusume crossed behind her. Some cheered themselves for finishing strong, others swiping tears in their eyes. Yet Maruzensky's radiant smile eclipsed them all, glowing even as sweat poured down her face.

When she reached the cameras, she did a small twirl, winked, and made a double peace sign. Her fans' cheers grew louder.

"Lucero! Do you know what time it is?!"

The young girl yelped as she felt a firm hand grip her shoulder and pull her back from the TV. She stood frozen for a moment before her mind caught up with reality. It was 1 AM in the morning, she was in her Hello kitty pajamas and tomorrow was school day.

Her mother stood over her, with bronze-toned skin that seemed to glow even in the dim light of the room. A cascade of pure white hair fell neatly over her shoulders, almost blending in with her white ruana and white pajamas. Her gaze was sharp, serious, and still fixed on her daughter as her hand remained firm on the girl's shoulder.

"Lucero de los Llanos Méndez."

Lucero's heart tightened as her full name was called out.

"What have I told you about watching TV so late?"

"That… I'll fall asleep in class?" she answered with a nervous smile.

"So?" Her mother arched an eyebrow.

"I won't do it again…" Lucero's ears drooped as she slumped back, defeated.

The woman nodded, then turned her eyes toward the television. The broadcast of the Yasuda Kinen was still running, Maruzensky's post-race interview flashing across the screen in Japanese with Spanish subtitles. She glanced back at her daughter, who was now fidgeting with empty chip bags, folding and rolling them into little balls.

With an exasperated sigh, she checked the clock one more time before looking back at Lucero.

"As soon as the concert finishes, go to bed. If I find you up again after that, I'll cut off the TV cable."

"I LOVE YOU MOM!" Lucero shouted, springing to her feet and wrapping her arms around her mother with all her might.

"Quiet down! Your father is asleep!" The woman gave her a light smack.

When Lucero sat back down, eyes glued once again to the screen, her mother lingered in the doorway for a moment. She gave her daughter one last glance and returned to her bedroom. After a couple of minutes, just before sleep claimed her again, she could her the distant and muffled sounds of her daughter clumsily following along "Instinctive Speed."

---

The next morning came, and regret hit Lucero like a truck. Her whole body begged for another hour of sleep. It took every ounce of willpower just to sit up and not collapse straight back into her pillow.

From outside her room, the household was already alive. She could hear her mother's music drifting from the kitchen, her father and brother's voices as they prepared to milk the cows alongside the workers, and the scattered chorus of animals greeting the day.

"Lady Lucero, don't fall asleep!"

Miranda, one of the estate's maids, called from beyond the door, her sharp voice snapping Lucero upright.

"Yeah, yeah…" Lucero groaned, rubbing her eyes. She stretched until her joints popped.

Lucero forced herself to stand, already dreading how her dance practice would go in a couple of hours. She dragged her feet to the bathroom, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. When she looked in the mirror, black bags under her blue eyes and tangled white hair greeted her. She sighed at her reflection, tilting her head slightly as if maybe the mirror would offer a kinder angle. It didn't.

Her fingers combed halfheartedly through her hair, tugging at knots until she hissed in frustration and gave up. The girl leaned forward, palms pressed against the sink, and stared at herself.

"Ugh… why did I stay up…" she muttered, though she knew the answer already: Maruzensky.

As she brushed her teeth, her mind wandered back to that fiery Umamusume. The absolute dominion she showed in her races kept Lucero's attention in a dead grip since she first saw her. The fear her presence gave to other Umamusume, her sheer speed, and her voice in her post-race concerts…

Lucero sighed to herself, only to accidentally inhale a bit of toothpaste. She broke into a sudden coughing fit, clutching the edge of the sink with one hand while smacking her chest with the other.

"Fuck!" Foam sputtered into the basin. Her eyes watered as she leaned over, wheezing out the last of it. "Brilliant… real elegant," she croaked, glaring at her reflection.

The coughing finally subsided, leaving her throat raw and her chest aching from the effort. She straightened up slowly, hair falling into her face like a messy curtain, and muttered under her breath: "Great way to start the day, weirdo."

She rinsed her mouth, cleaned her face one more time, tied her hair on a ponytail, and went to the living room to have breakfast. The air outside her room was cold, making her shiver slightly as her bare feet touched the floor.

Subconsciously, she looked at the photos adorning the hallway leading to the living room. Some were of her dancing bambuco in a white dress adorned with roses. Others were of her family lifting her and a trophy from a dance competition. Then came the older ones of her mother in a similar getup. There was an even older one of her grandmother dancing too.

Her steps were unsteady, and her head felt heavy, but she managed to reach her seat without bumping into anything or anyone.

Her mother was still at the table with a placid expression, making notes in her notepad. Lucero was a spitting image of her, save for her skin tone and eye color. She had long, thick legs and a cascade of white hair. However, the biggest difference between them was the way she carried herself. There was a certain weight to her gaze that Lucero lacked. One that was directed at her when she took her seat.

"I hope I don't hear from your instructor that you fell asleep," she said, snapping her fingers. "Gloria, her breakfast, please."

"Yes, Mom…" she said sheepishly, fidgeting under the table.

"Here, young miss." The same maid who had woken her up came by swiftly and set her food in front of her, startling her. There were eggs mixed with carrot cubes, bread, and hot coffee sweetened with honey.

"Thanks!" The girl nodded with a smile and began to dig in.

"Your dress for the tryouts came yesterday," her mother said, making a point with her pen. "We'll go to the seamstress after school to have it fitted."

Lucero's eyes brightened, and her sleepiness dissipated. She finished swallowing the piece of bread in her mouth, almost choking in the process, and answered back, "Really?!"

"Yes, darling," her mother nodded. "It's pink, like you wanted. But the red roses are non-negotiable."

Her expression dimmed a little, but she shrugged after a couple of seconds. She had to count her victories where she could.

"I'll be at your school by two," she said, closing the notepad and standing from the table. "Don't wander off, especially to the track."

The girl nodded, returning to her food. Her mother watched her for a moment and sighed softly. Without another word, she walked behind her and began untangling her hair. Lucero's ears twitched subconsciously whenever her mother's hands hovered too close, and sometimes she flinched when they touched them.

"Take care at school," the woman said after the worst knots were dealt with. Remember to take extra clothes and your comb."

"Yes, Mom… I already packed everything."

"Good."

She planted a kiss on the girl's head and went outside.

After finishing her breakfast and hugging Gloria, Lucero went back to her room. She changed into her running outfit: a loose white T-shirt, green cargo pants, and cleated running shoes. On top of that, she put on her white ruana to ward off the cold and tied her hair back with a band. On her left ear, she tied her favorite pink ribbon.

Before she went outside, she double-checked that she had everything. Her schoolbag contained all her books, while a travel bag on the side held her extra clothing.

"Let's see… clothes, towel, deodorant, shampoo, comb, books… ah!" She ran to her closet, picked up an extra book, and stuffed it inside. "Almost forgot that one…"

After saying her final goodbyes, she finally went out. The cold morning air was the first thing to hit her, like a thousand needles to her face. She was used to it, but it didn't make the sensation less unpleasant. With a small scowl she began walking while stretching.

Beyond the house's thick walls, the estate was alive with activity. Workers gathered near the cattle pens, their breath steaming in the icy morning air. Some were Umamusume, but unlike Lucero's idols, they were broad-shouldered and sturdy, with bodies adapted to heavy labor and defined muscles. They wore ruanas, brimmed hats, and long woolen scarves wrapped around their necks. Finally, their boots had cleats on them, helping them navigate the damp soil without faceplanting.

Lucero could hear them whistling to one another in the distance while corralling the cows for milking. Others carried bundles of firewood or tended to the animals.

The Méndez family estate stretched across the highlands outside Tunja. Rolling pastures surrounded by mist. The main house was smaller than others in the region, with white walls and red-tiled roof shining faintly in the morning light.

With a final stretch to shake off her tiredness, she closed her eyes. She imagined herself behind the gates, fans roaring in the distance, her heart hammering in her chest as she waited for the start. Her idols stood beside her, waiting for the race of their lives to begin. Lucero's muscles tensed, her breath stilled, and suddenly her eyes opened.

She surged forward with powerful steps, seeing herself trying to overtake the competition as she ran with all her might down the road to her school. For a fleeting moment, she felt completely free. Free from schedules, expectations, and the careful posture dance had taught her to maintain. The air was cool and faintly damp, brushing against her face as the morning mist clung to the fields around the farm. Her tail danced in the wind, mirroring her excitement and pure joy.

The first stretch of her run, a little over two kilometers of uneven dirt road, was slick from the night's dew. Mud clung to the soles of her cleats, forcing her to focus on her balance. Her bags thumped against her sides with every stride, making her adjust on the fly to prevent a fall. Whenever a small puddle came in front, she made small jumps to evade them.

At the mid-point of her 'race' she finally reached asphalt. She smiled in relief at the feeling of proper ground under her feet, but she knew that her cleats would be wrecked in the long run. Without slowing down, she checked there wasn't any vehicle on the way and ran on the Umamusume lane.

As the small city loomed ever closer, the girl smiled. Classes would be boring, dancing lessons were going to be painful, and she couldn't sneak into the track to distract herself. She wasn't going to give her mother ammunition. But it didn't make her joy go away, she savored those feelings of freedom while they lasted.

 

[Zyriam]

As she got closer to the city, her pace slowed to a light jog. She didn't want to get in trouble again for speeding, or worse, for hitting someone. Feeling the sweat roll down her face, she removed her ruana and tied it to her travel bag, not wanting to dirty it more than necessary.

The city was quaint. It was technically a capital, yet it felt more like a large town than a true metropolis. The houses were small, and their low roofs trapped the heat instead of letting it disperse. Some streets were narrow enough for only pedestrians and Umamusume, and motorcycles zipped past in every direction. Even this early in the morning, a chorus of engines and sirens echoed through the more congested areas. It wasn't unusual, either, to see carts pulled by Umamusume carrying animals or produce from nearby farms.

As Lucero entered the heart of the city, the rhythm of her footsteps began to blend with the city sounds. The narrow streets gradually widened into avenues lined with trees and small cafés, their awnings still heavy with morning dew. The smell of coffee and fresh bread that made her stomach rumble was ever present. It took everything in her not to get distracted by them.

She slowed near the central plaza, where a statue of the city's founder stood surrounded by flowering shrubs. Vendors were already setting up their stands, filling the air with the rustle of tarps and the clatter of wooden crates. A group of Umamusume, dressed in jogging uniforms, trotted past on the opposite sidewalk, laughing between breaths as they trained before school. She smiled wistfully at them, feeling a bit of envy before dispelling it.

The road leading to Maria Auxiliadora Academy of Fine Arts wound uphill, paved with uneven stones. It wasn't far, just another kilometer, but the climb would exhaust her if she didn't pace herself. As she ascended, the noise of the city softened behind her, replaced by the echo of her own breathing and the distant ringing of a church bell.

The academy emerged from the mist at the top of the rise: a collection of cream-colored buildings crowned with red-tiled roofs, framed by gardens and marble balustrades. Its gates, wrought iron and gilded at the tips, bore the emblem of a lyre encircled by a laurel wreath.

When she finally reached her goal, Lucero took a moment to catch her breath. Her body was soaked in sweat, and faint steam rose around her. She searched her travel bag for a moment but froze when she realized she had left her water bottle at home. With a defeated sigh, she adjusted the strap of her bag, brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, and crossed the street.

Several other students were arriving as well, some out of breath from their morning runs, others proper and pristine in the academy uniform: a crisp white blouse with puffed sleeves, an emerald-green vest embroidered with the school's golden lyre emblem, and a pleated skirt of matching green that fell just above the knees. White socks, polished brown shoes, and a narrow green tie fastened with a gold clip completed the look.

"Lucero!"

The familiar voice reached her just as she stepped through the academy gates. Silver Song was waiting by the courtyard fountain. Her silver-gray hair tied in a high ponytail and emerald-green eyes glinting in the sunlight. Her uniform looked perfectly pressed, with not a single crease out of place.

"You're cutting it close again," Silver said, half teasing, half exasperated, as she crossed her arms. "And you forgot your water bottle, didn't you?"

"Yes…" Lucero sighed but brightened when Silver handed her hers. "My savior!" With a grateful smile, she drank greedily and splashed some of the water onto her face.

"I know, I know." Silver shook her head, stepping back to avoid the stray drops. "Be more careful, will you? Now I have to refill it for both of us."

Lucero smirked and handed the bottle back. "I know, Mother. I won't do it again."

Silver rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips.

"You never change, oh wild child of mine," she said in an overly dramatic tone as she turned toward the main hall. "What have I done to deserve such a rambunctious and precocious uma, oh divine goddesses?"

"Forgive me, Mother, for I have disappointed you yet again!" Lucero exclaimed, falling into step beside her.

Their laughter and the soft clink of their cleats echoed through the hallway as they entered. Morning light was already spilling through the high windows, and birds sang somewhere beyond the glass. Framed portraits of past performers lined the cream-colored walls, some old enough to be in black and white, others far more recent. One of them showed Lucero's mother mid-dance, her white dress adorned with red roses. Lucero's gaze briefly followed it but didn't linger for too long.

When they reached the bathrooms, Lucero finally dropped the theatrics.

"Catch you in class. I need to take a shower," she said with a nervous smile.

"Oh yes, I was wondering where that putrid smell was coming from." Silver made an exaggeratedly disgusted face and pinched her nose. "Go on, my child, but do be careful not to kill anything with your stench."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." Lucero deadpanned while flipping her off.

Silver gasped in mock outrage. "My child! What are these rude gestures you make? I have failed as a mother!"

"Fuck you, Silver." Lucero smirked and kissed her cheek and rubbed hers against it.

"Blegh." Silver wiped the spot with a handkerchief as Lucero darted away before she could retaliate.

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦

​

The changing room was quiet when Lucero entered. It was big enough for at least a dozen or more Umamusume changing at the same time. There were only a couple of them quietly stripping their clothes or changing into their uniforms. Lucero briefly greeted them and went to her locker. She slipped off her running gear, steam still rising faintly from her skin. The tiles chilled her bare feet as she crossed into the shower area.

When she turned the handle, a rush of warm water cascaded down, striking her shoulders and washing away the last traces of sweat and dust from the road. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. For a moment, she simply stood there, motionless, listening to the sound of the water echoing softly off the tiled walls.

When she finally turned off the water, she dried herself quickly and stepped back into the changing room. Piece by piece, she put on her uniform: the white blouse, the emerald vest, the pleated skirt. She smoothed the fabric carefully, brushed her damp hair and tail until they shone, and tied her pink ribbon neatly around her left ear.

Just as she adjusted the knot of her tie, the academy's bell rang.

"Ah, damn it."

She and the other Umas still inside the changing room grabbed her bags, bolted for the door, and sprinted down the hall. Their polished shoes clicking sharply against the marble floor. The bell had already gone silent by the time she skidded to a stop in front of her classroom door.

She pushed it open, too quickly, and every one of the 20 students present turned.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss Lucero," said Ms. Ramírez, her teacher, arms crossed and expression unimpressed.

A ripple of laughter ran through the room, promptly silenced by a single sharp look from the teacher. Lucero managed a nervous smile and bowed her head. "Sorry, ma'am."

"Seat. Now."

She nodded quickly and slipped into her chair, trying to ignore the smirks and whispers from her classmates. As Ms. Ramírez turned back to the board and began the lesson, Lucero exhaled softly and waved at Silver Song, who was also her desk mate.

"As you already know, the tryouts for the Medellín Academy of Fine Arts are in one week." Ms. Ramírez wrote the date, January 10th​, on the blackboard with a piece of chalk. "Sign-ups are open until Friday, so don't be late."

Most of the class brightened, whispering excitedly about the upcoming tryouts. Some boasted about their dancing or singing skills, while others had dreamy expressions on their faces. Silver and Lucero exchanged glances across their desks, there was disdain, smugness, and irritation flying through them, before they broke into giggles.

"The general tryouts to find trainers for racers will also take place that day, at the same time," Ms. Ramírez continued.

The four girls who hadn't reacted earlier perked up at that, trading confident grins and light banter about who would perform better.

Lucero felt… conflicted about that. She harbored a bit of hope of being able to, if not participate, at least see the tryouts. Watching trainers choose Umamusume to propel toward stardom had always thrilled her, though she'd never been able to witness it in person. For a fleeting moment, she imagined herself among them, giving interviews, flying across the world, maybe even competing in the Japan Cup…

"You okay, Lucero?" Silver asked, one eyebrow quirked.

"Y-yeah," Lucero replied, forcing a small laugh before letting out a yawn. "Just didn't get enough sleep."

"Oh." Silver rolled her eyes. "How very you of you."

"Silence, ladies." Ms. Ramírez clapped her hands, silencing the idle chatter. "Now, open your books on page 95."

Lucero did her best, she really did, but history class was always a very potent sleep medication. Even worse now that she was on 4 hours of sleep at best. After her teacher began explaining the history of traditional dancing of the coastal region, her lights turned off.

Lucero was standing at a grand racetrack gleaming under a perfect blue sky. The crowd roared her name.

Lucero! Lucero!

While glittering confetti rained down like petals. Her school uniform had somehow turned into a shining white racing outfit, trimmed with pink ribbons that fluttered behind her tail.

"Next up," called the announcer, "the rising star of Colombia. Lucero of Maria Auxiliadora Academy!"

She grinned, heart pounding, and stamped her hooves against the ground. The other Umamusume lined up beside her, each with shining manes and numbers pinned to their vests.

The gates opened with a clang! And she shot forward, legs burning, wind whipping through her hair. The track blurred beneath her, the sound of the crowd swelling to a thunderous rhythm. For a moment she thought she could see her mother in the stands, clapping proudly, her red roses bright against the sunlight.

"You can do it, Lucero!" Silver's voice echoed from somewhere behind her, though it was oddly mixed with laughter.

She surged ahead, neck and neck with the leader, reaching out for the finish line that shimmered like gold in the distance-

"Miss Lucero."

The dream shattered. She blinked awake, drooling slightly on her desk, to find Ms. Ramírez looming above her with one unimpressed eyebrow raised and the class quietly snickering. Chief among them, Silver Song, doing her best to contain her laughter.

"H-hi…" Lucero's face felt on fire, her ears drooped and her tail swooshed nervously.

"Go and buy a cup of coffee," the teacher sighed. "Make it quick."

"I'll be right back!" Lucero shot up from her seat, hastily wiping the bit of drool still clinging to her cheek, and made a mad dash toward the cafeteria.

She could only hope this wasn't a sign of how the rest of her day would go.

---

A/N: This happened to me once. Fell asleep in the middle of class and my teacher sent me to buy myself a cup of coffee. I almost exploded from the sheer embarrassment. Fun times.

 

[Zyriam]

The trip to the cafeteria was quick. It was empty and quiet, so the only ones to judge her were the cafeteria workers. They acted friendly and with a smile, but Lucero knew they were also laughing at her, she just couldn't prove it. She downed her coffee, burned her tongue in the process, and hurried back to the classroom.

Thankfully, the rest of the class passed without incident, though a few classmates still smirked at her here and there, amused by her earlier blunder. Something she knew would be talked about years after her graduation, at least.

When the bell rang again, relief spread across the room. Several girls had been struggling to stay awake for the last ten minutes but managed to power through to the end. As the students began filing out, four Umamusume headed toward the track instead of joining the group bound for dance class. Lucero followed them with her eyes until the small quartet disappeared behind a corner.

"Hey." Silver snapped her fingers in front of her face, making her flinch. "Are you still asleep?"

"A-a bit… yeah." Lucero laughed awkwardly and stretched.

"Try not to fall asleep," Silver said with a teasing smirk. "Or do, after all, you have a race to win~."

"S-Silver!"

The way to the auditorium was filled with Silver's giggles and Lucero's outraged cries.

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦

​

The changing room buzzed with chatter as the students exchanged their uniforms for the flowing garments of dance class. Lucero stood at her usual spot beside Silver, carefully pulling her dress from its hanger.

It was long and modest, made of soft cotton the color of pale cream, the skirt falling straight without flares. A thin green ribbon circled the waist, matching the academy's colors. She tied her hair back with her pink ribbon before slipping the dress on.

"Did your dress arrive yet?" Silver asked, fastening the buttons on her own dark-blue gown.

"Yeah. I'm going with Mom to the seamstress after class," Lucero replied with an exasperated sigh. "It's going to take hours…"

"I got mine fitted yesterday." Silver smiled, tossing her silver ponytail over her shoulder.

"Oh?" Lucero quirked an eyebrow. "Can I see it?"

"Later." Silver adjusted her shoes, the metal cleats tapping softly against the floor. "I don't want my cellphone confiscated like someone I know…"

"That was three years ago!" Lucero groaned and sat down to comb her tail. "And your dress is going to be wasted on you anyway, you ugly witch," she grumbled.

"Oh please, my child." Silver did a playful twirl, hitting her friend in the face with the hem of her skirt. "You don't even have half of my class."

"Oh, it's on—"

A bell inside the changing room interrupted their friendly sparring. With a huff and an eye roll, they joined the rest of the class heading toward the auditorium.

The hall was wide and open, with smooth wooden floors and high ceilings. The air was warm and smelled faintly of dust and polished wood. From the speakers mounted high in the corners, the first notes of joropo music drifted down.

Their teacher, Ms. Ortega, stood at the center of the room. She was an Umamusume with chestnut-brown hair streaked with a bold line of white. Her dress was white as well, trimmed with a border of red, blue, and yellow flowers. When the girls reached her, the chatter faded to silence.

"Formation, girls," she said in an even tone "We'll be rehearsing the tryouts this whole week, so our class was extended by an additional hour. Your parents were notified of the change already."

Lucero suppressed her urge to groan.

"We'll start with tango." Ms. Ortega clapped her hands. "Find pairs."

Thankfully nobody was in the awkward position of being left alone, since the whole class was even. Silver and Lucero faced each other and nodded, already knowing they would be each other's partners. After some shuffling and some calls from people still alone, Ms. Ortega clapped her hands.

"Begin!"

The first notes of La Cumparsita drifted through the hall and, in an instant, any trace of playfulness vanished from Lucero and Silver's faces, as if wiped clean. Their eyes sharpened, their spines straightened, and every breath fell into rhythm with the music.

The click of cleats echoed softly at first, then gathered strength as the pairs began to move. Silver took the lead first, her movements were sharp, but never too rough. Lucero followed with perfect awareness, matching her friend's energy with her own fluid motions. Together they shifted and turned, skirts sweeping just above the floor as the tempo began to rise.

Around them, the rest of the class moved as one. Sixteen bodies synchronized to the pulse of the song, each step landing in perfect time. Not a single beat was missed. The floor itself vibrated under their rhythm and acted as an extra instrument.

"Change!" Ms. Ortega's voice rang out across the hall.

In a single motion, Lucero's weight shifted. She took the lead seamlessly and the energy in the dance changed. Her movements were more expressive, flowing into each other without lingering. Their feet struck the floor in sharp counterpoint: click, pause, sweep. Click, click, spin.

"Change!" came the command again.

Silver reclaimed the lead with a smooth pivot. Their gazes met for an instant before being absorbed by the song once more. Their steps tightened into sharper patterns as the music swelled.

"Change!"

Once more, the lead passed between them. Push and pull, command and answer. For those few minutes, nothing existed beyond the sound of heels striking wood, the harmony of their movements and the reflection in each other's eyes.

When the final chord rang out, the dancers froze in unison.

"Beautiful," she said with a small clap. "Every step in its place. Nobody was off beat…" She passed through each couple, correcting their posture or whispering in their ear any mistake during their dance. When Lucero and Silver's turn came, the teacher quietly praised them, gave them some tips for their transitions, and went on her way.

Lucero exhaled, chest heaving slightly, a bead of sweat tracing down her temple. Silver turned her head just enough to smirk.

"Good job, witch." She whispered to her best friend.

"Good job as well, harlot." Silver nodded and answered back.

"Alright, ladies." Ms. Ortega clapped. "From the top!"

They performed the song two more times before they could take a small break. Lucero collapsed onto the nearest bench with an exaggerated groan, fanning herself with the edge of her skirt.

"Please, have some class," Silver said, sitting gracefully beside her and dabbing her forehead with a towel.

"We're already at class." Lucero retorted, grinning as she reached for her water bottle.

"Ha. Ha." Silver said in an even tone and passed it to her, letting her friend cool down in peace.

A few classmates nearby laughed. Ruiseñor de Mediodía, a tall Umamusume with sandy-blonde hair, turned to them with a smirk. "Don't bother Silver, you already know she'll always be like that."

"Like you're on the forefront of elegance." Lucero said between sips, earning herself a playful poke on the ribs.

Camelia, another dancer with braided chestnut hair, chimed in. "Won't you have issues with that? With the judges and everything?"

"Please." Lucero flipped her braid over her shoulder dramatically. "Everyone knows the judges love a bit of flair."

The group burst into giggles.

"Alright, girls. Five minutes are up! Water down, ribbons straight, let's see if that energy holds for the next round."

A chorus of groans and good-natured complaints followed as the students hurried to their places. Lucero stood, tightened the ribbon around her waist, and met Silver's gaze.

"Round two?" she said, smirking.

"Always," Silver replied, already poised to dance again.

For the next two hours, they practiced nothing but tango. Some pieces were tender and romantic, others heavy with melancholy, but all of them were very demanding. With each song, partners rotated at random, forcing the students to adapt to new rhythms, heights, and temperaments. Normally, their trainer would have taken the lead, but with none assigned yet, they had to rely on one another.

By the time Ms. Ortega clapped her hands for the final time, the hall was filled with the sound of labored breathing and the faint hiss of steam rising from flushed skin. Lucero, who had managed to keep her composure throughout the last dance, nearly collapsed the moment the music stopped. Her chest heaved, her legs trembled, and a satisfied smile tugged at her lips despite the exhaustion.

She tried to take a step, but her legs gave out beneath her. With a dull thud, she fell to her knees, gasping as she fought to pull air into her burning lungs.

"Lucero! Are you okay?" Silver dropped to the floor in front of her, gripping her shoulders. Her voice trembled despite her effort to stay composed. "Are you hurt?!"

"I'm…" Lucero swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath. "I'm fine!" she managed to say, forcing a smile that quickly faltered.

The edges of her vision began to blur. Her eyelids grew unbearably heavy, and her body swayed forward as her strength drained away. Somewhere, she heard Silver shouting, her name maybe, but the sound was distant and muffled.

Strong hands caught her before she hit the ground.

"I'm… ok…" she whispered weakly.

Then everything went black.

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦

​

When Lucero finally woke up, she realized she was wearing her pajamas, but the room wasn't hers. The bed was too firm, the pillow felt oddly damp, and the ceiling above her was unmistakably that of the nurse's office. If that wasn't enough, the faint scent of disinfectant hung in the air, gave it away.

She tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed gently against her shoulder.

"Lucero."

Her mother's voice made her flinch.

"You're grounded. No more TV after 10 p.m."

Lucero's eyes widened, the last traces of drowsiness vanishing in an instant.

"But the URA is only—"

She tried to rise again, only to be stopped by her mother's hand and the familiar, sharp look that brooked no argument.

"No." Her mother shook her head once, her tone final. "That's it."

The fight went out of Lucero immediately. She sank back against the pillow with a long, defeated sigh.

"Yes, Mom…"

"Good." Her mother leaned in and kissed her forehead, her touch soft despite her stern tone. "Your father will pick you up after class. We'll visit the seamstress tomorrow."

"Yes…" Lucero mumbled, staring down at her hands.

"Be careful," her mother added quietly before moving away. She closed the curtains behind her as she left, and the room dimmed.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open again. Silver slipped inside. Her silver-gray hair was slightly tousled, and her uniform wrinkled. Lucero noticed, but didn't comment on it, she didn't have it in her to jab at her friend.

"There you are, you…" She stopped herself mid-sentence, glancing toward the departing adult. When the door shut, she exhaled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Lucero said, puffing her cheeks before blowing a small raspberry. "Been worse."

"You're incorrigible." Silver sighed but smiled faintly as she sat beside the bed. She pulled two lunchboxes from her bag and handed one over. "Always making me worry, wild child of mine."

Lucero blinked in surprise but accepted it, her smile softening.

They ate quietly, diced carrots, rice, a piece of chicken breast, and a small box of guava juice. The steady rhythm of clinking forks filled the silence. Little by little, the tension in Lucero's shoulders faded, replaced by the comfort of her friend's presence.

A lot had gone wrong that day, but Lucero was thankful her friend was there beside her. She didn't know what she would do if Silver ever decided to simply walk away one day.

The Umamusume in question noticed her staring and raised her eyebrow.

"Nothing," Lucero said quickly, shaking her head. "Thank you."

Silver shrugged and nodded before taking another bite of chicken, unbothered. Lucero couldn't help but giggle and followed her lead.

 

[Zyriam]

By the time Lucero no longer felt like she was about to die, whether from embarrassment or exhaustion, it was already close to midday. Silver had stayed with her as they finished their second breakfast before returning to class. Lucero took a bit of time to change back into her uniform, check on her notes, brush her teeth in the nurse's office bathroom.

As for the nurse, she arrived while Lucero was changing, where she got another stern talk about proper rest and not watching TV at 1 AM. When the bell rang, Lucero thanked her and promptly departed for her next classes.

Math and economics were important, everyone knew that, but that didn't make them popular among the girls. Some, in particularly dire cases, had already resigned themselves to letting their future trainers handle their finances once they were chosen.

"Silver, why don't you marry me?" Lucero asked her desk mate as she watched her finish their group assignment. She tried her best to contribute… but the disparity in their skill was staggering.

"You can't handle me, my dear child," Silver replied without even looking up from her calculations. "And I'm not into girls, especially not childish ones like you."

"That was meeeean." Lucero pouted and poked Silver's cheek.

The silver-haired girl gave her an unimpressed glance before rolling her eyes, earning a giggle from Lucero.

"Feeling okay now?" Silver asked after a pause.

"Better," Lucero said, stretching until a soft grunt escaped her. "Just hungry."

"Good to know." After a final check of her notes, Silver handed her the worksheet. "Wanna grab a bite after class?"

"Nah, Dad's picking me up." Lucero took the papers and stood. "Mom was super pissed at me."

"Can't blame her." Silver shrugged. "It was pretty stupid not to sleep, run all the way from home, and then forget to tell our teacher you were on, what, four hours of sleep?"

"Yeah, yeah." Lucero rolled her eyes. "Do without the nagging, please."

"In your dreams, my child." Silver waved her hand dramatically. "Go on, shoo."

Lucero grumbled under her breath as she handed the completed assignment to their math teacher, a jolly older woman who was far too passionate about numbers for anyone's comfort.

When the final bell rang, the classroom erupted in motion. Some girls headed to the cafeteria for lunch, others to the racetrack, and the rest streamed toward the exit. Lucero lingered just long enough to fish her phone from her bag, the ban only applied during class after all, and checked her messages.

"Looks like Dad's already here," she said with a small sigh. "See you later, then."

"See you later." Silver nodded, slipping her books into her bag. "Don't forget to submit the form for the tryouts. I know you still haven't."

"...I already did…" Lucero muttered, failing to sound convincing.

"Don't lie to me, child." Silver sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "You break your poor mother's heart."

"I'll do it tomorrow, okay?" Lucero replied, exasperated.

"You'd better."

They leaned in, kissed each other's cheeks, and waved goodbye before parting ways, Lucero toward the school gate, Silver toward the main building.

Shortly after, Lucero was greeted by the midday sun at the exit. The smell of street food was doing wonders to her appetite, and the cacophony of motorcycles and vehicles trying to pass through made everything too chaotic for her liking. But what caught her attention first was the familiar rumble of that engine.

Her father was easy to spot. Sitting astride his old, dark-red bike, he looked like he'd ridden straight out of their farm. His wide-brimmed hat shaded a weathered face, and his thick mustache twitched as he grinned at her. A gray ruana draped over his shoulders, and his black rubber boots caked in mud and dirt completed the picture.

"Luce!" he called, waving a gloved hand. "You almost gave me a heart attack, you little…" He took off his glove and pinched her nose.

"I know…" She didn't fight it, just closed her eyes. "Sorry."

"Bah, don't worry too much. At least you're ok." He grinned and patted the backseat of the bike. "Let's get you something to eat. You look half-starved."

Lucero didn't argue. She climbed on behind him, hugging his ruana for balance as the bike sputtered to life. The wind hit her face as they drove off. She tucked her ears and hugged her midsection with her tail. Before long, they left the busy streets and general bustle of the city center.

They stopped at a small roadside diner just outside the city, one of those places where the smell of grilled meat clung to the air and music played softly from an old radio. Her father ordered an extra-large bandeja paisa for her, a big platter filled with red beans, ground meat, rice, chicharrón, fried egg, plantain, chorizo, arepa, avocado, carrots, and carrot juice. Her eyes shone like miniature stars after seeing the mountain of food in front of her.

"Go on," he said with a chuckle.

"Thank you!" She dug in with a smile on her face.

"Hey, nobody's going to snatch your food." He used a napkin to clean a bit of smeared food out of her cheek. "You know, your mom was really worried about you. She almost passed out from shock."

"I know…" she paused for a moment after swallowing a piece of plantain. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"Good!" The man smiled and reclined in his chair. "I know you love your races and watching those Chinese broadcasts, but you need your head in the game Luce. You're going to the world, away from us…"

"It's Japanese." Lucero thought to herself but didn't correct him. It wouldn't be appropriate.

"I know you'll be the best dancer in this whole country! Those Paisas don't have anything on my little star." He huffed. "You just need to make those skills of yours shine and you'll blow everyone away."

Lucero giggled and nodded at him. They chatted away while Lucero ate, sharing stories and how everything was going with their animals. The anxiety she still had melted away. Though, a small seed of worry took root in her heart. She couldn't help but get ideas about her future so close to the tryouts, some… dangerous ideas, even.

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦

​

Shortly after that, they returned home. Lucero greeted the workers and her brother on the way in. The boy had taken after their father, but her mother's genes shone through here and there. His black hair had white streaks here and there, as an example. He was taller than Lucero, and his muscles were more defined, but they both knew he couldn't compete with her strength. Umamusume biology was simply superior to a human's.

"Lucero." He tipped his hat in a very Western fashion. Lucero rolled her eyes and flicked it upward.

"Luis."

"Had a good sleep?" The boy smirked, crossing his arms.

"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking." She huffed and went on her way.

"Ooooh. And how was the concert?" he called after her, leaning a bit to the side as she retreated. "Dareriori imá suyokú cakenuketara~"

"Ignore it…" she muttered to herself as she walked to her room, leaving her older brother laughing behind the door.

Her room was already tidy, one of the workers always made sure she didn't leave a disaster behind for the entire day. Everything was in its place, her trophies from her junior competitions neatly arranged on a shelf, her notebooks stacked by subject, and a faint scent of lavender from the freshly washed sheets filling the air.

She sat at her desk and turned on her laptop, opening YouTube to play "Winning the Soul," the version sung by Symboli Rudolf during her legendary Triple Crown run.

The powerful melody filled the room, drowning out the world outside. Lucero closed her eyes for a moment, just enjoying "The Emperor's" beautiful singing. Her tail swayed gently to the rhythm. Then, with a soft sigh, she stretched her arms and began working on her homework.

Classes were winding down in preparation for the upcoming tryouts, so there wasn't much to do, thankfully. After just an hour of focus, her assignments were done. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes, and stared at her laptop screen, unsure of what to do next.

Her desktop background greeted her: Maruzensky, captured mid-stride during her iconic Twinkle Series Finale. Behind her, the other Umamusume strained to catch up, faces tense with effort, hooves kicking up dust, but Maruzensky's expression was pure joy.

Lucero smiled faintly. She remembered that race as if it had happened yesterday. Watching it live had been one of the most thrilling moments of her life, the crowd roaring, the commentators shouting words she couldn't understand.

She had been about ten years old at the time. The race had started at two in the morning, long past her bedtime. Her eyes were bloodshot from staring at the flickering screen, her stomach full of snacks and soda, and her pajamas stained in several places with chocolate and crumbs.

Yet the moment the runners lined up at the gates, all that tiredness vanished like smoke. The drowsiness, the sugar crash, the weight of the blanket on her shoulders, everything disappeared as her little heart began to race in rhythm with the pounding hooves on the television.

She could still remember the way the announcer's voice rose and how her tiny hands gripped the edge of the couch as if she could somehow push Maruzensky forward just a little faster.

When she pulled ahead on the last corner her emotions ran high. She bounced in place and screamed with all her heart, as if she was part of the crowd that day.

That enthusiasm ended up waking up the entire family and some of the workers. Her cheeks burned a little remembering their faces thinking something had happened to her, only to find her engrossed in the race. At least her Mom's flipflop didn't hurt that much that day…

Her hand rested on the mouse, hovering over the tab that led to the academy's website. She loved dancing with all her heart, if she didn't, she wouldn't have made it this far. But still… she wasn't sure it was what she truly wanted to pursue, at least not as her main path.

Yes, if she became the best, she could be famous, perhaps even a national icon, but dance competitions always came second. They came second everywhere: in the world, and even in their continent. No matter how graceful, no matter how passionate, dancers were rarely the ones people remembered.

Pursuing that future meant staying trapped in Colombia, for better or for worse.

"As the gringos say… <<We Ball>>"

She logged in and began filling out the form for the race tryouts. Her fingers moved before her mind could catch up, typing her name, her ID, her birthdate... Her heart hammered in her chest, driven by a rush of adrenaline.

By the time she reached the final page, her cursor hovered over the "Submit" button. That was when she finally froze.

"Do I…" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of her laptop fan.

It was a gamble, a terrifying one. If she wasn't selected, she would have to wait at least six months for the next round of tryouts. And if she changed her mind about the Fine Arts Academy, it would be even worse; their admissions only opened once a year.

She knew Silver, Ruiseñor, Cantante, Fox, all of them would pass. She would be surprised if they didn't. After that, they would be gone within days of the results being announced.

And she? She would be left behind. Another name on the attendance sheet, another dancer who almost made it.

The weight of that thought pressed down on her chest until it became hard to breathe. She unconsciously bit down her lip as she struggled with her decision. Her Mom had her dress ready, her dad believed she would be the best, her friends would be waiting for her during that stressful day… but her heart wasn't in it.

She wanted to shine like her namesake. A bright Star in the sky.

Without realizing it, as she clenched her fists to summon a little courage, maybe even flashing through a few dramatic anime-style memories for strength, her finger had already clicked.

The soft ping of confirmation filled the room.

[APPLICATION SUBMITTED]

[YOUR NUMBER IS "18"]

[MAY YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE!]

Lucero blinked.

"…Oh."

---

A/N: "Oh" indeed, my little Lucero, "Oh" indeed...
<<>> means another language that is not Spanish is used. In this case, she spoke actual English.

 

[Zyriam]

The rest of the day passed in a blur as her decision began to properly set in. She listened to music while staring at the ceiling, had dinner with her family, caught up on a few manga chapters, and went to bed right at ten.

She had another embarrassing dream of running at an important race, catching up and passing Maruzensky, and claiming her trophy as the world's champion… before waking up with a jolt at Miranda's voice.

Discounting that small incident, Lucero woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed. Breakfast was filled with the usual bickering with her brother, and then she was off to school. Instead of her usual mad sprint, she chose a lighter jog instead, working up a mild sweat by the time she reached the academy gates. Thankfully, this time she'd remembered her water bottle and didn't need to endure another round of nagging by her "second mom."

She exchanged her usual teasing jabs with Silver, cracked a few jokes with Ruiseñor, and headed for the showers. Her first class of the day was economics, one of the few subjects she could actually gloat about to her best friend, who was far less enthusiastic about it.

The day overall was… peaceful. Classes went by smoothly, and when dance class arrived, she felt ready to correct her blunder.

The class began with the slow rhythm of Zamba playing through the speakers. Lucero and Silver took their positions at the center of the hall, handkerchiefs in hand. Ms. Ortega clapped twice, signaling the start.

Their cleats struck the floor in steady rhythm, following the beats of the song. Their movements were slower than tango, instead, they were more deliberate and precise. They lifted, twirled, and waved their handkerchiefs in graceful arcs to match the turns of the dance, sometimes bringing them close to their partner, other times letting them flow freely with the motion. Their tails moved in rhythm as well, helping them maintain balance and complement their steps.

Silver began as the lead, Lucero following. When Ms. Ortega called, "Change!", they switched without pause and without flinching.

By the end of the song, they bowed to each other, breathing heavily as Ms. Ortega gave a short nod of approval before moving on to the next pair.
Just like the day before, they spent two hours practicing exclusively Zamba. There were no surprise blackouts this time, so everything went smoothly. Afterward, the girls headed for a round of showers. The cold water made Lucero flinch, but she quickly got used to it.

A stray thought entered her head while looking at the small congregation of semi-nude female bodies. No one was teasing or harassing anyone else like in the shōjo stories she read. It was one of those things Lucero always found strange when reading manga.

"Maybe it's just a Japan thing," she thought to herself while putting her uniform back on.

Idle thoughts aside, they made their way to the cafeteria for second breakfast.

Her small group of friends instinctively gathered around one of the tables: Ruiseñor and her twin sister, Cantate de Medianoche. Fox Hound, a shorter Umamusume with a neat bob cut, black hair, and slanted eyes. Silver Song, and Lucero herself.

A mountain of food sat in front of the twins, who were already locked in a fierce competition to see who could finish first while Fox cheered them on with a mischievous smirk. Lucero tried to join in, but she was immediately stopped by Silver.

"You'll throw up if you do that," Silver said firmly, shaking her head. Fox nodded in agreement with a casual shrug.

"But-"

"'No"" Fox and Silver replied in unison.

"It was one time…" Lucero muttered under her breath.

While the pair of blondes gorged themselves on rice, Lucero and Silver enjoyed a modest lunchbox packed by Silver's mother, a serving of rice, beef, carrot salad, and a couple of sausages, while Fox Hound snacked on crackers between her cheers.

"Did you submit your application already?" Silver asked casually before taking a sip of water.

The sudden question almost made Lucero choke on a piece of beef. She swallowed thickly and chased it down with water. Silver looked mildly concerned, while Fox rested her chin on her hand, watching her side-eyed with interest.

"Yeah," Lucero said, forcing a smile and hiding the flash of guilt that passed through her heart. "Did that yesterday."

"Really?" Silver narrowed her eyes. "What number were you assigned?"

"Eighteen!" Lucero replied confidently.

"Oh." Silver blinked in surprise before smiling. "I'm glad you finally decided to follow your mother's advice, my wild child."

"Of course, mother dearest, you know best." Lucero huffed and rolled her eyes, though a small smile still found its way to her face.

Cantante emerged victorious in their contest, even if both twins' bellies looked slightly distended from the mountain of food they had devoured. Fox clapped dramatically and lifted Cantante's hand like a boxing referee while the pair groaned in defeat and triumph alike.

"Business as usual with those two…" Lucero rested her chin on her hand and watched the twins poke fun at each other.

"Indeed." Silver shrugged. "I just hope they don't pull stunts like this when we go to Medellin."

"Be a little more realistic, Mother dearest~." Fox smirked, reclaiming her seat.

Silver sighed. "I hope they don't do stuff like this too often. That includes you, you rapscallion."

Fox laughed, a sharp, high-pitched sound that fit her name perfectly, echoing like a fox's bark through the cafeteria.

The rest of the classes went by peacefully. Social Studies proved to be yet another potent sleep medication, especially after such a hearty meal. Cantante and Ruiseñor even had to buy themselves cups of coffee after dozing off in the middle of the lecture. At least Spanish class was a bit more bearable, as it often involved reading novels. Lucero usually preferred Asian literature, but she didn't mind Western works from time to time.

When the final bell rang and everyone dispersed to their extracurriculars or headed home, Lucero received a message from her mother saying she was waiting at the gates. She quickly kissed everyone's cheeks in farewell and dashed off, never noticing Fox's gaze lingering on her as she disappeared down the hall.

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦​

"Hi, Mom!"

When Lucero spotted her mother, she ran up and wrapped her in a big hug. The older Umamusume returned it, pressing a gentle kiss to her daughter's head.

"No problems at school today, I hope," she said in her usual dry tone, glancing at her watch which, as always, was strapped upside down on her wrist.

"Nope!" Lucero answered brightly, tail swishing.

"Good." Her mother nodded, her ears flicking once. "Let's go then. Our appointment is in thirty minutes. We'll have lunch after."

They both had the speed and stamina to make it there on foot, but her mother insisted on taking a taxi instead. The ride was short but a bit unpleasant. The air inside smelled faintly of gasoline and sweat, and the driver's blaring music made Lucero wince more than once.

When they finally arrived, her mother paid the fare without a word, and the pair stepped into the seamstress's shop.

The shop was small but well-kept, nestled between a bakery and a stationery store. A wooden sign above the door read "Costuras La Estrella" in elegant cursive, the paint slightly faded by the sun. Through the front window, several mannequins displayed dresses in progress, and some others were already finished.

Inside, the air was warm and smelled faintly of fabric, starch, and lavender. Rolls of cloth leaned against one wall, while ribbons, lace, and buttons were neatly arranged in glass jars behind the counter. The soft hum of a sewing machine filled the space, only stopping when the seamstress looked up from her work.

She was an Umamusume who appeared to be in her late thirties, though small wrinkles around her eyes and mouth hinted at long hours and years of concentration. Her short brown hair was streaked with lighter strands, and a pair of reading glasses hung from a ribbon around her neck.

"Aurora, good to see you here!" The Uma checked her watch and nodded. "And early too!" The older Umamusume smiled warmly.

"Rosa," Aurora greeted with a polite nod. "You know we value punctuality."

"I know, I know." Rosa waved her hand dismissively, her grin never fading, before turning her attention to Lucero. She leaned slightly forward, eyes glinting with recognition. "And look at you! You're much bigger than the last time I saw you, little star. Did you know I held you when you were a baby?"

Lucero blinked, caught off guard, and gave a small, awkward chuckle. "Oh… really?"

"Really." Rosa's right ear flicked in amusement before she gestured for them to follow. "Come, your dress is ready, darling."

Lucero's eyes wandered as they walked past the rows of fabrics. Some patterns were adorable, others strikingly exotic, and a few looked so fine they had to cost a fortune. When she reached out to brush her fingers against a soft silk, her mother's tail flicked lightly against her arm. Lucero quickly pulled back and folded her hands behind her back.

"This is it!" Rosa announced grandly, gesturing toward a mannequin dressed in pink and red.

The dress was a pastel pink with long sleeves and puffy shoulders. Small roses adorned the point where the pink deepened into a vivid red near the skirt's hem. The neckline was a gentle V cut, trimmed with white frills that framed the buttons at the center. A crimson ribbon sat neatly at the collar, with another tied at the waist into a wide bow at the back.

"It's… beautiful," Lucero whispered, transfixed by the dress.

Rosa beamed with pride as she gently smoothed out a wrinkle on the mannequin's waist. "Took extra time to make it as perfect as possible." she said, her tail swishing slightly. "Soft, breathable, and sturdy enough for anything you felt like dancing in it."

Lucero took a hesitant step closer and gently touched it. She still wasn't a fan of the red roses, she preferred orchids, but she had to agree that the design was out of the world. Another flash of guilt quickly prickled her, but she did her best not to show it.

"Rosa never disappoints." Aurora gave a small approving hum. Even if her tone remained the same, her tail betrayed her feelings.

"Of course not." Rosa grinned, hands on her hips. "Now, little star, let's see if it fits as well as it looks. Go on, the fitting room's open."

Lucero swallowed nervously, taking the dress with both hands as if it were made of glass, and disappeared behind the curtain.

As beautiful as the dress was, it wasn't a perfect fit. Some parts hung a little too loose, while others felt just a bit too tight around her shoulders and waist. Rosa circled her slowly, making small notes on a pad and occasionally pinning bits of fabric in place with her needles. Lucero tried her best to stand still, but after a few minutes, her tail began to twitch restlessly, betraying her boredom. The soft hum of Rosa's voice and the quiet rustle of fabric filled the room while her mother occasionally added a comment or nodded in approval. At least, Lucero thought, the air inside the shop was cool enough that she wouldn't end up sweating through the fabric.

After what felt like an eternity, Lucero finally slipped behind the curtain of the changing room and began to carefully remove the dress. As she did, her eyes wandered to the mirror beside her.

She paused.

Her reflection stared back, dark skin, toned legs built from years of running and dancing, arms firm but not bulky. She liked what she saw, she felt strong and capable. But… she also knew she didn't look like her idols.

Their bodies were sculpted for speed and built to dominate the track. Hers… wasn't.

A small sigh escaped her lips before she shook the thought away and began slipping into her uniform again.

When she stepped out, she caught the end of her mother and Rosa's conversation.

"-Come by on Friday to pick it up, then," Aurora was saying with her arms crossed.

"Wonderful!" Rosa clapped her hands, her tail flicking cheerfully. "I'll try my best to make it to the tryouts! There's nothing quite like seeing my creations worn by the best of the next generation!"

"I'll pick you up Monday morning," Aurora said, glancing at her daughter. "Ready?"

Lucero opened her mouth to answer, but her stomach growled loudly instead. Her face turned a deep shade of red while Rosa chuckled behind her hand and Aurora simply sighed.

"We'll be going, Rosa," Aurora said with a polite curtsy. Lucero quickly mirrored her mother's gesture.

"Visit more often, darling!" Rosa called as the pair stepped out into the late afternoon light. "It's always a delight catching up with you!"

 

[Zyriam]

Wednesday was another unremarkable day. Lucero followed her routine as usual, chatting with her friends, trading jabs with Fox and Silver, and excelling in her dance class. Still, it was hard to care about any of it now that she knew what she was in for.
Music history, costume design, philosophy of art… they either wouldn't matter to a racer, or worse, she'd have to repeat them next year.

She shook the thought away as quickly as it came. No point crying over spilt milk.

With the afternoon sun painting long shadows over the campus and nothing pressing left to do, she made her way to the track. It was busy as expected, the last week before the tryouts always was. Around seventeen Umamusume filled the lanes. That fact made her heart jump a little, remembering the number the website gave her…

Some were scrimming against one another, others stretched by the fence, and a few cooled down at the far end of the track, chatting animatedly while sipping water.

Lucero sat on one of the benches, resting her arms on her knees as she watched the big group sprint toward the goal. Their faces were full of smiles and their bodies covered in grass and sweat. A red-haired Uma broke out of the pack in the last straight, managing a small lead before their small race ended.

"HA!" The red-haired Uma screamed and jumped in celebration. "In your FACE Cacique!" She pointed at a black-haired Uma that finished 5th ​overall.

"That… was just dumb luck!" Cacique bit back with a scowl while breathing heavily.

"hehehe…" The Red-haired laughed amid her own pants for air.

Lucero couldn't help but smile along, thinking about how similar their friendship was to her own small group. How they would sometimes tease each other after competitions, or their small dares. She couldn't help but sigh wistfully.

"A lot on your mind?"

An Uma with short, white hair asked her. She was one of Lucero's classmates, but they rarely interacted beyond the first couple of hours each day due to their different schedules. Lucero blinked in surprise before shaking her head.

"Hi, Emerald." Lucero waved. "A little bit, yeah… just nervous about the tryouts, I guess. How are you holding up?"

"Eh." Emerald shrugged and sat beside her. "Already did my best to be in top form. The rest's in the gods' hands."

"Yeah…"

Lucero had seen them practice from time to time. They were always pushing to be a little faster, a little stronger, never letting defeat take their goal out of sight. It was admirable… and here she was, intruding in their sacred space.

She was an outsider after all. She never trained to be a racer. Just a filthy weeb who loved Japanese Umas too much and probably ruined her life chasing childish dreams. She-

"Lucero?"

"Yes?" Lucero jolted upright, her tail straightening.

"Are you… okay?" Emerald asked, her ears tilting in concern. "I know you guys are under a lot of pressure, but is it that bad?"

"N-no, no." Lucero wiped the tears she hadn't noticed spilling and forced a laugh. "I'm fine. Just… thinking dumb stuff. Sorry for keeping you from practice."

"…Right." Emerald narrowed her eyes slightly. "Well, I can't claim to be your best friend, but if you ever need help, or just a partner to run with, you know where to find me."

"Thank you!"

Lucero smiled and waved at her classmate as Emerald jogged back toward the track, her short tail flicking with every step. Once the girl was far enough away, Lucero's smile faded. She pinched her own thigh hard enough to sting and muttered under her breath.

"Stupid! You're in public!"

Her ears folded flat against her head as she glanced around, hoping no one had seen her little outburst. A few Umas were too focused on sprint drills to notice, others chatting in small groups near the water station. She sighed and slumped back on the bench, tail twitching in irritation.

"Get it together, Lucero…" she whispered to herself, rubbing the spot she'd pinched.

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦

​

Thursday and Friday were worse in a way. Go to school, dance for hours, eat, go home, stare at her ceiling, go to school, dance for hours, eat…

She felt her mind frying around the edges a little bit. Her motivation to even wake up in the mornings was dangerously low. She even skipped her second breakfast on Friday, she only felt a knot twisting in her gut. The chatter of her fellow classmates and best friends turned into white noise.

The only place where she felt something was watching the track, and it wasn't better. It was a mix of guilt and longing that made her feel even more confused than she was. Still, she managed to swallow everything enough so it didn't show… or at least didn't show as much. At least Emerald didn't seem to notice it when they chatted.

When she'd had enough of watching the racers practice, Lucero decided to head home.

"Maybe I'll catch up on some manga…" she muttered, adjusting the straps of her backpack.

She didn't notice the presence behind her until it was too late.

"Where ya going, beautiful?"

"Buh?!"

Lucero whipped her head around and her heart jumped when no one was there. Then she looked down and found Fox smirking up at her. Her cheeks flushed red before she pinched the shorter Uma's cheek.

"Don't scare me like that!"

Fox laughed in her usual high-pitched tone, wriggling out of Lucero's grasp.
"You've been weird lately. Everything okay?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Y-yeah, just a bit… overwhelmed," Lucero stammered, trying to keep her composure. "I just want the tryouts to be over already."

"Right?" Fox grinned, ears perked.

"Yeah." Lucero smiled back faintly. "How have you been? Not getting in trouble during your last week of classes?"

"Me? No, of course not. How could you possibly think that?"

That smile of hers didn't inspire much confidence, but the smaller Uma wasn't told off by a teacher recently, so she believed her. For now.

"Anyway, I need to catch up with the twins." Fox sighed. "We were supposed to go to the seamstress together for our dresses, but I can't find them…"

Lucero didn't flinch this time, thankfully.

"I haven't seen them recently. I was on the track watching the practice."

"Oh, really now?" Fox smirked at her. "And you didn't join, right? ~"

"I-I haven't in a long time, and you know it!" Lucero huffed. "Last time was last year!"

"Yeah, November last year."

"Shut it."

Another round of giggles followed.

"Oh well, off I go I guess." Fox shrugged after checking her phone. "By the way, what was your number for the tryouts?"

"Eighteen, why?"

"Curiosity." Fox shrugged. "See you later, sunshine."

"See you later Fox!"

She felt a little better after talking to her. Maybe she was getting way over her head and needed to clear up her mind. A run might-

"By the way!" Fox popped out of the corner with a grin. "We match! I also have eighteen!"

Lucero's heart stopped.

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦

​

Her family noticed she was acting stranger than usual. She managed to convince them it was just nerves, "tryout jitters," nothing serious. They still worried, though; they bought her ice cream to help her relax and didn't nag her when she said she wanted to spend time at the tracks.

She appreciated the gesture, but it only made her feel worse. Every kindness was another reminder that she was lying to them. She was a dirty liar, betraying their trust and expectations.

When her dress arrived and her mother hung it neatly in her room, Lucero couldn't hold it in anymore. She cried in front of it for hours, the pastel fabric blurring through her tears. Her eyes burned, and her throat was raw by the time someone called her for dinner.

"Lucero?" Her mother's voice came softly from the other side of the door.

"W-what?" Lucero croaked, wiping at her face.

"…Can I come in?" Her voice sounded softer than usual.

"…Yeah…"

Lucero noticed her mother flinching as she entered the room, but she was too exhausted to care. She was a mess, tears, snot, unruly knots in her voluminous hair, and her brand-new dress already needed cleaning.

Instead of scolding her for locking herself in all day or dirtying the dress, her mother sighed. She took Lucero's comb, sat beside her, and began to gently work through her tangled hair. Her hands moved patiently, untangling each knot and cleaning out whatever debris had caught in the strands, all while softly humming a tune.

"I don't know what you're going through, my little star," she said after a while, her voice low and warm as her fingers brushed through Lucero's hair. "But I worry about you."

The truth almost slipped out then, but Lucero bit her tongue. Her mother wasn't a national celebrity, but she was still deeply respected in their region. She was one of the faces of the academy, a role model to many of Lucero's classmates. It was expected that Lucero would follow in her footsteps and surpass her one day. Her mother had never been able to attend a prestigious academy like the one in Medellin, after all. That chance now belonged to Lucero.

Her path to greatness and glory had been laid out before her.

And she had thrown it all away-

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong," her mother murmured, wiping away Lucero's tears with her thumb. "I know you're scared. But everything will be all right. Win or lose, even if you never leave our farm and just work with your father… you'll always be my little star."

She kissed her daughter's forehead and kept humming as her fingers combed through Lucero's hair. Eventually, exhaustion replaced the nerves. Her eyelids grew heavy, her body felt like lead, and before long, she drifted off to sleep.

There was the faint sensation of being lifted, carried, and laid back down. Something warm covered her from neck to toe. Then another kiss brushed her forehead. But she didn't open her eyes.

She was so… so… tired…

---

A/N: A bit on the shorter side today, didn't want to stretch this breakdown too much.
Well, is there an Umamusume career without drama? I don't think so~
(Seriously, even characters that seem all happy-go-lucky like BAKUSHIIIIN have so much internal drama. Tracen needs like, a couple dozen therapists minimum.)