The summer camp's final night had slipped away under a starlit forest canopy, where Fuji Kiseki and I, Hachiman, ended up sleeping like logs in that ancient hammock. I swear, it wasn't planned! The thing was just… comfy, you know? The gentle swaying, the hum of crickets, the rustle of pine needles—it got me. Fuji, Ritto's dorm leader, had dragged me to this hidden retreat, and before I knew it, the forest's lullaby knocked us both out. You get it, right? Tell me you get it.

Come morning, though, the dawn's golden light brought trouble. Symboli Rudolf, Air Groove, and Hishi Amazon had us—well, mostly me—sitting seiza-style on the sandy beach, the ocean's waves a mocking backdrop to their lecture. Rudolf's piercing gaze, Air Groove's folded arms, and Amazon's barely-contained grin pinned us down harder than any training drill. Fuji tried covering for me, insisting it was her idea to "test the hammock's durability." I tried covering for her, claiming I'd insisted on "nighttime strategy talks." It turned into an endless loop of excuses, each more absurd than the last, until Rudolf's patience snapped like a starting gate. The compromise? I cooked breakfast for every Uma Musume at camp—pancakes, eggs, and miso soup for dozens of hungry horse girls. Exhausting? You bet. Fuji and Amazon pull this off daily? Respect.

Despite that hiccup, summer camp was over. The beach, once alive with sprints and laughter, now lay quiet, save for the gulls circling above. I stood on the Miho dorm bus, clipboard in hand, doing headcounts as we prepped to return to Trecen Academy. I'd ridden with Ritto's students on the way here, but now I was with Miho's crew, their chatter filling the air like a post-race crowd. The bus's engine hummed, its seats a mix of plush red and worn patches, and the scent of sunscreen lingered from days at the beach.

Except, there was a slight problem.

"Hey, can I sit next to Hachiman?" Mr. C.B. whined, her golden mane bouncing as she leaned over the seat. "Pretty please, Rudolf?"

Symboli Rudolf, the student council president, raised an eyebrow, her regal poise unshaken. "C.B., Hachiman-kun isn't your classmate or your buddy."

"Then why's he next to you?" C.B. shot back, her eyes narrowing with mischief.

"I need to discuss academy matters with him," Rudolf said, her tone clipped. "Just borrowing his time."

"Liar!" C.B. huffed, crossing her arms. "You're probably learning puns or something!"

Rudolf froze, her ears twitching. Why's C.B. so sharp about this? her expression seemed to say, a rare crack in her composure. I stifled a chuckle—puns were my secret weapon, and C.B. knew it.

"Um…" Rice Shower piped up, her voice barely audible, her shy gaze fixed on the floor. "I'd… I'd like to sit with Onii-sama too, if that's okay…"

"I'd like to as well," Cafe said calmly, her meteor-like ahoge swaying as she adjusted her glasses.

"If it's with Trainer-san," Bakushin-O declared, standing on her seat with a fist raised, "it'll be a productive ride! I nominate myself!"

"What's with this mess?" I groaned, rubbing my temples. "I just wanna sit alone—'No way!' …Why not?"

"It's not fair!" C.B. said, pouting. "I barely got to chat with you at camp!"

"Barely?" I said, incredulous. "You ate next to me every breakfast, lunch, and dinner!"

Rudolf sighed, her tail flicking with exasperation. "No choice, then. Let's settle this with a fair, no-excuses rock-paper-scissors match."

"Fine," C.B. said, smirking. "I'm winning anyway."

"I'll do my best," Cafe said, her calm unshaken.

"Rice… will try!" Rice Shower squeaked, her ears drooping nervously.

"Time for the class president's power!" Bakushin-O shouted, her energy practically shaking the bus.

Inside the bus, I leaned back in my seat, the window framing the receding coastline. "That rock-paper-scissors went quicker than I expected."

Cafe smiled, settling beside me, her presence soothing amidst the chaos. "I'm happy with the result."

The fair fight had ended with Cafe claiming the seat, her steady hand outwitting the others. The order? Cafe, Bakushin-O, Rudolf, Rice Shower, and poor C.B., who crashed out in the first round—a spectacularly tragic loss that left her sulking two rows back. Rudolf was now consoling her, their banter an odd mix of stern lectures and playful jabs, making for a bizarre scene against the bus's hum.

"So," I said to Cafe, "where's your friend? On the bus?"

"No," she said, her voice even. "They're running alongside it."

I chuckled, picturing her mysterious "friend" sprinting through the forest. "Every time, I'm amazed by your friend's… uniqueness."

"I won't deny that," Cafe said, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

We sat in silence, the bus's gentle sway lulling the other Uma Musume into quiet conversations or naps. The camp's intensity—Air Groove's sand sprints, Mejiro McQueen's Sachertorte obsession, Fuji's dorm duties—felt like a distant memory.

"Something wrong?" Cafe asked, glancing at me.

"Nah," I said, staring out the window. "Just… I can't see your friend, so part of me wants to call it a bluff. But you don't seem like you're lying."

"They like you," Cafe said, her tone matter-of-fact. "They mention you sometimes, but they won't show their face. Instead, they lean in a bit."

"Lean in?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "You mean like when my back gets slapped outta nowhere?"

"They don't do that much," Cafe said. "They tease other Uma Musume, though. Like when they burned Takanotsume's research notes after she annoyed them."

"Wow," I said, whistling. "Your friend's intense. You okay, though? Nothing caught fire?"

"No fires," she assured me, her meteor ahoge bobbing.

Thump.

"Uh, Cafe," I said, feeling a weight on my shoulders. "Is your friend… sitting on me right now?"

"Yes," she said, unfazed. "They're relaxing."

"And… messing with my ahoge?"

"Yes," she said. "Twirling it, stretching it, pushing it."

"Now they're patting it, right?"

"Yes," she said. "Trying to blend it with your hair."

"And now smacking it 'cause it won't stay down?"

"Yes, but not out of frustration," she said. "They're laughing. They say it's 'like Cafe's meteor.'"

"As long as they're not mad," I said, grinning despite the invisible antics.

"Agreed," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Your meteor does stick up, doesn't it?" I said, nodding at her ahoge.

"No special reason," she said. "But… it matches yours, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, my grin widening. Something clicked—maybe it was the shared quirks, the way Cafe's calm balanced my sarcasm, or how her "friend" mirrored my own oddities.

Rustle, rustle.

"Yo, Cafe," I said, feeling my hair go wild. "Your friend's messing up my hair big time. Can you… handle it?"

She giggled, a rare sound from her. "Alright."

The bus rolled on, carrying us back to Trecen Academy. The camp's chaos—hammock mishaps, seiza lectures, and rock-paper-scissors battles—had ended without major disasters. Air Groove was ready for the Triple Tiara, McQueen was probably still dreaming of Sachertorte, and the second-trainee buzz simmered. The turf was calm for now, but the race was coming.

Camp's done, and what a ride! Hachiman's hammock mishap with Fuji lands him in hot water, but he cooks his way out of it—talk about a clutch save! The bus ride back is pure chaos, with C.B., Rudolf, Rice, Cafe, and Bakushin-O battling for his seat, only for Cafe's quirky "friend" to steal the show with ahoge antics. Air Groove's Triple Tiara chase looms, and the second-trainee buzz is still simmering. Summer's over, but the turf's just heating up—let's race back to Trecen!

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