Chapter Text
When Doto tripped on her own feet entering the recording booth the sound proofing broke her fall. One of the large panels on the wall she landed on flopped loose. Then another. Then one off the ceiling. In her panic to both fix and dodge the disaster zones she hit her head on the microphone and the pop filter snapped off. She stepped on it and slipped, knocking over the bottle of water she just bought from the vending machine. The cap was loose.
"That's alright Doto-san we'll have that fixed and continue next week," the engineer had said. His smile was kind but he must have been furious. Doto sniffed as she closed the door to the building's offices and entered the main lobby.
The URA's UmaLive studio was a top notch facility to help racers handle their merchandising needs with all the amenities and latest equipment. Unless a clumsy Umamusume broke everything. Studio time was expensive, and here Doto was squandering the funding raised by their precious fans for this EP by causing trouble for the staff.
Doto wiped her tears on her sweater sleeve and looked around for a place to sit. Her booked recording session still had hours left so her ride wouldn't be there, and she didn't have her phone. It was in her bag, forgotten on the passenger's seat next to her water bottle.
This was the worst, why was she like thi-.
"Doto!" shouted a sunny voice.
Walking briskly towards her, holding Doto's bag and water bottle aloft, was T.M. Opera O and Doto started crying again.
"Opera O?! You- you didn't have to bring them back!"
Grinning in triumph, Opera O pressed the bottle into Doto's hand and she gratefully took a sip. Crying was dehydrating work.
"Haaah hahaha! What are you saying? What sort of King doesn't go the extra mile for her subjects?"
Doto smiled despite herself, "W-why are you here now, though? My session wasn't supposed to end for hours."
Opera O posed, "Simple! When I noticed your poor abandoned bag I couldn't let it languish so. Wretched! Lifeless! Strap dangling in anguish without its Mistress!" Opera O's pose changed to emphasize each tragic descriptor, "I turned straight around to reunite you, but naturally I could not impose myself upon your appointed time. Alas, such is the curse of my beauty! I couldn't allow my radiance to distract from your own!"
Doto gasped in horror, "W- b-but that was over an hour ago! Have you been w-w-waiting t-this whole time? Were you going to wait until I was done?!"
Opera O put her hand on her hip with a self-satisfied smile and held out Doto's bag. Her silhouette was glowing against a backdrop of tall windows and fluorescent lighting. Doto's heart swelled.
"Thank you," Doto whispered. She took the bag and clutched it to her chest. It was her racewear bag, repurposed for daily use. Her Little Bag of Help. The familiar texture and comforting weight eased her nerves. Opera O's smile melted into something softer, less imperial and more gentle. Fond.
There was an uncharacteristic beat of awkward silence. Neither of them knew exactly how to handle these moments, and pauses like this were becoming common. But it was a change that made Doto's stomach flutter with giddiness instead of anxious nausea. Besides, Opera O never let awkwardness survive for long.
Opera O offered her hand with a fresh round of laughter and a 'Well, my Princess?' to clear the air. Doto played along, bag firmly over her shoulder, and let herself be led out to the car. Opera O had been borrowing it from her parents for the sake of all the official business related running around they'd been doing. It was parked with a front wheel proudly displayed on the curb, and Doto's mind flashed to the resigned look on Opera O's father's face as he handed his daughter the keys.
Once safely strapped in her seat with the door closed, so she couldn't drop anything on the pavement, Doto fished out her phone to check for notifications. There an email from her trainer reminding her of her schedule and some messages from her friends. Fukukitaru had sent her a photo of her fortune reading for tomorrow with a detailed explanation, and Taiki tagged her in a picture of her parents' farm covered in snow. In the foreground was a lopsided snowuma wearing a cowboy hat and green bracelet.
"What happened during recording?" Opera O asked. "Did my Doto's lovely voice enrapture the staff like a siren? Ah, of course! So dazzled by its beauty were they, they simply had to take the rest of the day off to bask!"
Doto was torn between wailing and giggling so she settled for a long sigh and sank back into her seat, "I tripped and broke the sound booth."
Opera O laughed, delighted.