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If there’s one scent Manhattan Cafe could place in her sleep, it would be the fragrance of Arabica coffee. The fragrant, fruity aroma of the caffeinated drink that placed such warm comforts in her soul… it was a masterclass of genetic engineering. The dark color, reflecting her portrait in its murky depths; the bitter taste, echoing years of childhood memories, sitting beside her mother and father at breakfast; the heat, thawing the ice of a mundane living at Tracen Academy. Much to the dismay of her trainer and his carefully constructed dieting plans, nothing could come between Cafe and her consumption of this particular beverage. He’d learned months ago to stop trying. Every morning, around 5 a.m. (likely after a restless night of listening to the weaving of rain patter against the window amidst whispers from the shadows), she’d part with her bed carefully so as to not wake Yukino. She would take a quick shower, throw on her uniform, comb through her sleek black hair, then be out the door to drink her coffee.
This routine is near-and-dear to Cafe. Tachyon and Pocket’s peculiarities that puzzled her were easily washed away as the dirt from her skin. She woke up not too early, but not too late. It was the exact perfect time–
Which is exactly why she was in such a bad mood this morning. Her ears pinned straight back against the pillow. The beauty of Arabica coffee, which she would typically appreciate smelling, had disturbed her meager sleep. Her strongest guess was that Tachyon was at the scene of the crime; she’d always been an early-riser of sorts. She briefly stopped in her controlled fury to consider why Tachyon, admirer of tea and hater of coffee, would make some, but she reasoned that it may be a gift for her. Goddesses know what kind of odd substances she’d slip in…
A quick scan of her phone resting on the nightstand revealed that it was an entire hour before she was scheduled to awaken. To her left, Yukino was bundled in her fluffy quilted blankets and gifts from her grandmother, her sleeping mask pulled half-heartedly over her face. The last thing Cafe wanted to do was disturb her roommate when she’d been nothing but welcoming and warm-hearted. She peeled the light satin blanket from her lanky figure. She wiped stray fuzz from the hem of her dark brown sleep dress and slipped out of her bed. She figured that she might as well get ahead on her morning routine if she was already awake. She gently tugged her uniform and a towel down from the drying rack, then set off to the shower.
Cafe was always incredibly particular about her appearance. Having been blessed with smooth and healthy hair that seemed to endlessly grow, it was hammered into her from a young age to avoid damaging it any chance she got. It wasn’t necessarily a point of fixation like her friend or her beloved Arabica coffee, but she put in enough effort that she consistently received compliments on it. Yukino found a way to mention City and her hair every time she caught a glimpse of how Cafe’s would shine on the rare occasion she stood under the sun. Either way, it was important to her to maintain it. She let it down from the loose ponytail she had it up in as she slept and ran her hands through it. She crept towards the shower’s valve, then turned it to a nice cold setting she preferred greatly over heat. When Cafe showered in hotter water, she tended to get lightheaded and feel worse throughout the day. She’d since learned simply to embrace the nipping frost. She slipped off her satin dress and stepped into the cascade of glacial water, reveling in the clean feeling of it on her skin. She lathered her hair in a faintly vanilla-scented shampoo, the brand of which she’d stayed loyal by for years. She’d never found anything else quite like it, even if it wasn’t a specialized brand for Umamusume. Her tail, often neglected more so than her hair, always got its due respects during washing time. Between her and Yukino, there was a plethora of bathing products ranging from family-made body washes to twelve-in-one hair Tachyon-invented products* (neither girls were brave enough to ever really try it, so it’d been sitting there for a little while). No matter what, Cafe always had something reliable to fall back on with hygiene.
Upon completing her shower, she stepped out of the tub and wrapped the towel around herself. The frigid air of the A/C combined with the average cold temperature of the water made the short interval between getting dressed quite uncomfortable. She plugged in her hair dryer, one needlessly expensive and thankfully silent that Tachyon had gotten for her last Christmas (“with hair like that, you’ve got to have the best!”). Once she’d deemed most of her silky hair to be sufficiently dried and the rest that weren’t were tied up loosely, she pulled her uniform on. The fit, honestly, wasn’t something she took particular pride in. She felt her scrawny frame made it look awkward and longer than it should’ve been. Especially beside her closest peers, she by far had the least muscle. With a huff, she flipped the lightswitch off in the bathroom, slipped clumsily into her creased loafers, pocketed her room key, then vanished into the darkness of the hallway.
The halls, typically filled from top to bottom with conversing Umamusume and lively chatter, were comfortingly silent in the early morning hours. Cafe never cared for the bothersome noise that drowned out her friend’s whispers – the whispers that were now audible above the clicking of her heels against the smooth Tracen tiles. She didn’t dare to interrupt her friend as she spoke, giving full attention to every word that enveloped her like a heavy smog. Her dark ears twitched and pinned back as the Arabica coffee scent strengthened. Somebody had definitely made some, and her eyes were twitching with a need for the caffeination.
She hadn’t even noticed, but she’d broken into a sprint as she rounded the corner to the cafeteria. It had to be Tachyon, didn’t it? Her anger was entirely lost in the hunger for coffee. She’d cast a glare that damn scientist’s way and she would know to tell her next time before she made any more erratic plans. Following that, however, she’d definitely help herself to the decadent and rich flavor of the superior drink. She just didn’t understand why Tachyon insisted coffee tasted so bad…
Cafe abruptly slid to a halt, her shoes squeaking with the suddenness. She’d expected to see Tachyon with her short brown hair sitting improperly in a chair, patiently awaiting her arrival. However, faintly illuminated by the light of the moon shining through the windows, she caught sight of something not quite like she expected. Long silver hair like spilled string draped over the back of the chair, falling over a pale face set with utter determination. Cafe’s breath hitched in her throat as her mind provided a name for this face. Oguri Cap. She was well-known throughout the halls of Tracen Academy for her immense racing prowess and overall legendary presence. Even peering in from behind the door, she felt intimidated by the beast of an Umamusume. Her eyes, pleasantly blue in a way that a sunny day was not, tracked distantly onto the ceiling as she dug her teeth into one of the many pastries loaded onto her plate. If it were anyone else, Cafe would mentally critique her eating habits and denote her to be undedicated, but Cafe wasn’t exactly the most healthy eater either. She defended herself by stating she simply had a smaller appetite than most and everyone else left it at that.
More appealing than the sugary temptations, however, was the now burning smell of the Arabica coffee wafting towards her. Cafe had heard that Oguri, despite all her skill, was airheaded and not very attentive. She definitely wouldn’t just… go and walk past Oguri. What if she spoke to her? What if Cafe, in her panic, said the complete wrong thing and she got offended? That simply wouldn’t do. In the darkness, her element, surely she could sneak by quick enough to retrieve a cup for herself going unnoticed. It was a familiar trek that she was sure she could make with her eyes closed – the coffee, surprising in its high-quality selection, never saw a day without Cafe. Tachyon and Pocket may have teased her as they sipped their disgustingly sweet and fruity teas out of matching mugs, but she found her companionship in the shadows of her life. With calculated and measured steps, she snuck to the coffee machine. It appeared there was still more than enough of the Arabica coffee, so she wouldn’t need to refill it either. It was a perfect plan without any flaws whatsoever. She reached for a mug, and then a soft voice broke the silence.
“Are you trying to get some coffee?”
Cafe froze in her steps, her golden eyes going wide. Her grip on the handle of her mug tightened so much she worried that it would shatter in her hands. Oguri had turned to look directly at her now, her expression devoid of anything that would give her any indication of what she was thinking. She continued on eating her mountain-high stack of pastries, even as Cafe gawked at her acknowledgment of her presence. Then, after a moment, she straightened up. Might as well try to put on a normal front, even if she didn’t particularly care for most Umamusume’s friendship.
“...Yes. I like this particular type of coffee a lot.”
Oguri tilted her head, her ears twitching atop her head cutely. “Hm. Me too,” She lifted her cup, blinking at Cafe with eyes suddenly focused. “Are you a new student?”
“No. I’m not new. I guess we’ve just never met before,” Cafe sighed, resignedly waiting for the coffee machine to finish pouring her drink. Once it was full, she grabbed a single croissant from the kitchen, and turned to leave. Despite everything in her shouting at her to just leave before she makes it any more awkward and retreat beneath her bed covers for the rest of the day, she stood firm before the table. In one stiff moment, she took the seat across from Oguri. She’d promised Yukino she’d make more friends anyway. It was time to act on her promise. “You’re from the countryside, right? Is the coffee there better?”
Oguri didn’t have an outwardly negative reaction to her sitting down, so in her book that was a success. “I don’t really know. Honestly, I only started trying coffee once I’d moved here. Before now, I mostly just drank water,” she shrugged, then turned back to her food. Cafe nodded slowly, nibbling on the corner of her own breakfast.
“Hm. And the coffee here’s good, isn’t it?”
“It’s pretty good.”
Cafe couldn’t prevent a small smile from creeping onto her face. “Yeah. The cups we’re drinking right now are from Arabica coffee beans. Most coffee beans are named after mountains because that’s where they come from. Higher altitudes are said to produce better beans, so that’s why.” She masked the slight tinge of embarrassment upon speaking so much so suddenly with a long sip of coffee. She glanced back up again, and she seemed mystified by it.
“Ah. I didn’t know that. That’s cool,” A win! Her mellow, open personality somehow felt more soothing than the liveliness of far too many of her peers. She glanced down to Cafe’s meager portions, and frowned. “Is that all you’re gonna have?”
“I don’t eat that much. It’s fine for me.”
“But don’t you need to train later?” Oguri appeared genuinely concerned for her health. “And you aren’t even gonna finish it. Do you want something else?” She immediately rose, her long strides taking her to the kitchen counter in seconds.
“Oh no, it’s alright–”
“I got you a plate. I’m trying to diet right now, so I don’t need all of my food…” Oguri hummed and set down some kind of sweet loaf on Cafe’s plate. “You’ll need a lot of fuel to train hard and run well.”
Cafe shrugged, the sense of obligation now heavy on her shoulders. She raised it to her lips, then savored the rare taste. Alongside the coffee, the two paired well. “You’re right. Sorry.”
“It’s alright. I just don’t want you to get sick,” The next time Cafe glanced up, trying to catch a glimpse of her once more, the entire stack of pastries piled on her plate were reduced to a few mere crumbs. Then, contrasting highly in temperance, she raised her mug to her lips and took a dainty sip like she was some dignified lady. She hardly had enough energy to hold any judgment for her. The two sat in a comfortable silence amidst the darkness until the familiar lights whirred to life above them. A quick glance towards the clock confirmed that it indeed had already been two hours since Cafe was rudely (or perhaps, kindly now) awoken. She’d have to ask sometime if Oguri was open to training together or even just talking a little more. It wasn’t that she was lonely – she had Tachyon, Pocket, Yukino, her trainer – but nobody quite felt so accepting as this Umamusume she’d only just now met for the first time. An intense desire to know her personally, to stand by her side, filled her entirely. A warm flush rose to her cheeks.
Cafe opened her mouth, swallowing her pride, ready to just ask the simple question – can we train together sometime? It took everything in her to ask something so personal and almost invasive, but she would do it. To keep her promise to Yukino. “Can we–”
“Oguri! Oh, Oguri! There you are!” A high voice called from the doorway, and in came barreling a petite Umamusume with short chestnut hair. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she frantically shook her arm. “Goddesses, you have to start telling me where you go! I mean, I thought I’d find you in here, but I ran all over the campus! I was about to ask Tazuna for help, but luckily I found you first,” she exhaled heavily, wiping sweat from her brow. She turned and blinked at Cafe. “Oguri, did you make another friend?”
“Uh-huh. Her name’s… uh…”
“Ah. I’m Manhattan Cafe. It’s nice to meet you. You are…?”
“I’m Belno Light! I’m Oguri’s friend – I help her out with her training and everything. I’ve heard about you, Cafe! I never would’ve thought you two would get along. But who knows, huh? Alright, I’ll go tell Trainer I found you, then. Hopefully he isn’t too angry… and don’t be late, okay?” Belno was already halfway out the door as she shouted, seeming awfully in a hurry for a matter that really didn’t require any of the amount of urgency she was giving it. Cafe couldn’t help but smile.
“I guess I gotta go then. Well, it was nice, then… maybe I’ll see you around again sometime,” Oguri rose from her chair, taking her tray with her.
“Mhm. Thank you for talking to me.”
“Uh-huh.” An awkward beat of silence stretched between them. “Oh, well… why don’t you come train with me later, Cafe? I’ll be practicing my times on the turf track. Come by if you’d like.” She waved goodbye to her, then was gone as if she hadn’t ever been there before.
Cafe stared at the wall for a long while after that. Umamusume filtered in and out of the cafeteria, each louder than the previous, but nothing broke her from her dream-like stupor. Oguri’s last words echoed in her ears like a broken record. The picture of her, taking her little sips from the little mug that she couldn’t have possibly noticed was Cafe’s and not her own. No way. Her beautiful hair, so different from her own in both color and upkeep, that somehow enticed her more than anything else. She was just… beautiful. A sort of light that didn’t overwhelm, but comforted. She must’ve been going crazy. What was she thinking?
When she finally came back to herself, shaken out of it by a mildly concerned Yukino, she glanced down to where Oguri’s tray had been previously.
There sat a small, torn slip of paper, with small writing hastily scribbled across it:
‘here’s my number call me sometime”
…Cafe was gonna have a heart attack.