Not a Joke

It Wasn't a Joke

On the rest day after the Japan Cup, Kitasan Black truly played the perfect host.

Even before California Spangle and the others arrived in Japan, she had done plenty of research. Now that the guests had finally come, she enthusiastically dragged California Spangle, Frostfall, and Adayar around for several days, visiting nearly every famous attraction in Tokyo.

The noisy happiness had washed everything away. The palpitations and confusion that had arisen in the hot spring that night, leaving her flustered and uneasy, seemed to have been temporarily sealed away as well.

Yet late at night, when she lay alone in a hotel room or her own bed, those feelings slipped out beyond her control and circled endlessly through her mind.

Once recovery training began and she inevitably saw Anjing Zhen every day, that subtle feeling not only returned, but seemed to grow even stronger.

It wasn't like a raging storm.

It was more like the surface of a pond in monsoon season, ruffled now and then by a passing breeze, sending out countless fine, irritating ripples.

She could even clearly feel that her focus during training had declined. A simple instruction from Anjing Zhen, or his approach to check her form, could distract her without her realizing it.

And at night in the dorm, though her body was exhausted from the day's training, she found herself tossing and turning in bed uncontrollably.

Her mind was unusually alert too, replaying again and again the look in Anjing Zhen's eyes when he handed her a training plan, the tone of his voice when he spoke, even the meaningless instant when he slightly furrowed his brow while organizing the Record Board.

Whenever that happened, she felt her heart inexplicably speed up, thumping especially loudly against her eardrums in the