AN0110

At Night 01:10.

At one ten in the morning, the black market would begin.

Mizuno didn't tell Rudolf about his plan to visit the black market. As Student Council President, of course she would never allow Tracen to harbor such a thing. If he told her, it would only lead to the market being raided, blocking him from getting what he needed.

So Mizuno decided he would sneak there alone tonight.

To make sure he arrived on time, during the day he went to Tracen more than a dozen times, running rehearsals, memorizing the fastest and safest route there and back.

And—since every night Rudolf would press his hand under her face to stop him from escaping in his sleep—

Tonight, to avoid that, Mizuno, before she could pin him, mustered his courage and caught her hand first, cupping it in his palm.

"Eh?" That single move made Rudolf completely blue-screen.

She stared blankly at him, ears twitching against the pillow. She showed no resistance.

Because she didn't understand what Mizuno was trying to do. He had never taken the initiative to touch her before. It took her quite a while to recover from her daze.

"Ahem…" Embarrassed at her own lapse, Rudolf coughed a few times to cover it up, then put back on her usual expression—gentle, tinged with slyness.

"Mizuno, what do you mean by this?"

She deliberately drew out the last two words, her tone just shy of saying directly: "Are you confessing to me?"

"Uh… it's just that my arm goes numb under you. This way's more comfortable, that's all."

Mizuno tried to explain, but Rudolf could see through the lie in an instant.

"Hmhm, is that so…" Sensing he was hiding something, she went along with it, sliding her other hand over, resting it lightly on the back of his.

The two of them now looked—half like an ambiguous couple, half like battlefield comrades-in-arms.

Which one it was depended on how others saw it. But it leaned heavily toward the first.

"Then let's always sleep like this from now on." Rudolf smiled.

Normally, if Rudolf dared tease him this way, Mizuno would have bolted—only to be caught, pinned to the bed, and humiliated (meaning: forced to massage her).

But tonight, faced with her teasing, Mizuno stayed silent.

He even took her second hand fully into his own, clasping them together like a man swearing an oath to a woman—all so that later, when he left, it would be easier not to wake her.

"…" Having set everything up, Mizuno squeezed his eyes shut in pain and pretended to sleep.

That move, however, threw Rudolf off balance instead.

"This… wait… could it be… eh?!"

She stared, incredulous, at Mizuno's "deep gaze" (in truth, his fake-sleep face). Her cheeks warmed, her ponytail churned wildly under the blanket.

Her toes curled tight. Even on the Winner's Concert stage before millions, she had never been this nervous.

And in her head, a ridiculous thought surfaced of its own accord—

Could Mizuno-dono… actually be serious?

"Mmh…" For a heartbeat Rudolf panicked, eyes darting downward.

She had never once considered Mizuno daring such a thing. Never once imagined herself in the position of being confessed to.

Because Rudolf, a proud Seven-Crown Uma, Student Council President commanding half of Tracen, with her unshakable poise and authority—stood on a high peak apart. Her aura itself built walls.

Even when she tried to come down to others' level, tossing out cold jokes as olive branches, people still treated her as "Kaichou-sama," never daring cross the line.

Even her most fervent fans recognized the gulf between their lives and hers, knowing they could never catch her—whether in racing, or in love. So any confessions were just fantasies, the stuff of dreams.

At most, children like Tokai Teio would cry out their "I love you!"—but those were fangirl declarations, nothing more.

So Rudolf had never truly been confessed to. Everyone respected her, admired her, from below upward—but no one dared act close. Much less hold her hands like this.

Mizuno-dono was the first.

Yet what unsettled her wasn't the confession itself. If it had been anyone else, she could have kept her dignity, refused politely.

What unsettled her was—of all people, it was Mizuno.

Mizuno was her friend. A Trainer she acknowledged. Toward him she felt admiration, understanding, trust. The teasing she gave him daily was nothing more than playful banter among friends—not anything deeper.

She would never accept a confession.

But rejecting him…

What if that meant they could no longer be friends…?

"Guh…" Her ears drooped and rose again, tangled in hesitation. This was harder than any decision she had ever faced in the Council.

She lifted her gaze once more, meeting Mizuno's. Her eyes trembled faintly, uneasy, praying silently that this was just a joke of his.

"Mizuno?" she whispered.

But he gave no response.

As if… he was already asleep.

"…Whew." Rudolf let out a breath of relief. But along with it, an inexplicable pang of loss.

She couldn't understand what that feeling was.

With no answer, she stopped thinking, shut her eyes like him, and forced herself to sleep.

In the dark, the two lay still—each with their own thoughts.

Midnight. The phone in Mizuno's pocket buzzed silently.

"To seize the world—this is the hour!"

Mizuno's eyes snapped open.

He gently slipped free from Rudolf's grasp, crept out of bed on silent feet.

He checked—she hadn't stirred. Carefully, he slipped to the door, eased it open, and slid out.

Only when it clicked shut did he let his pace quicken, hurrying downstairs, racing toward Tracen.

But tonight—Mizuno wasn't the only one playing dead.

"Mmh!"

The moment he shut the door, Rudolf curled up under the covers, burying her face, ears twitching violently outside the blanket.

In the darkness, she stroked the back of her hand, her eyes shimmering.

"…As if I could sleep after that…"