Since morning, the stable had been nothing but noise without meaning
The creak of the wooden door, servants’ footsteps, distant neighs.
No heavy steps.
No familiar blue coat passing my stall.
So… maybe he really was important.
Or maybe I imagined him.
I still couldn’t move.
Even yesterday, turning my head had felt like torture.
My neck burned, my body weighed down by something that wasn’t meant to move the way I wanted it to.
Every joint refused me.
And I hadn’t eaten since yesterday.
They did give me food.
Just... fucking horse food.
Dry hay.
Strange grains.
"Seriously. Who feeds a human horse food!?"
This had to be a dream.
Or a hospital hallucination after the accident.
I exhaled slowly.
If that man really understood me…
maybe he’d bring something else next time.
Warm food.
Porridge—like in those ridiculous dramas.
Maybe we’d even look like a married couple—
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I let out a weak chuckle.
"Yeah. Keep dreaming."
I lowered my head.
Cold hay scraped my skin.
The stable smelled of damp earth and rusted metal.
I leaned toward the water bucket, desperate to see something familiar.
Instead—
A long muzzle stared back.
Two large eyes blinked when I did.
I froze.
…Right.
Still the concussion.
"Nobody wakes up from death looking pretty, right?"
I tried to laugh.
“Hhhihhh—”
My body locked up.
That sound again.
"No. It came from me."
Why do I sound like a horse!?
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Once, these hands held reins.
I knew the thrill of racing, the wind, the roar of the crowd.
Now my body was heavy. Still.
Trapped in something that wasn’t mine.
“…That man,” I whispered.
The horse beside me snorted.
Whoever he is—
Why am I still waiting for him?
The afternoon passed as the light shifted, voices drifted in.
Servants.
They stopped near my stall.
Hay was replaced. The floor swept.
“Is this the one?”
“Yeah. The strange horse.”
“…The one His High—”
The voice cut off.
“Careful,” another whispered.
“If someone hears you calling him that…”
"Calling him… what?"
“So he really came yesterday?”
“Of course. Who else checks the horses himself?”
My chest tightened.
Horses… himself?
A noble?
Or—
He is a prince for real.
I didn’t dare finish the thought.
Later, heavier voices replaced them.
“Training’s delayed.”
“For all of them?”
“Only the injured. Doctors’ orders.”
“And the tournament?”
“Still months away. But that race carries the kingdom’s honor.”
“So that’s why His Highness keeps coming…”
Their footsteps faded.
A limping horse passed my stall, breathing unevenly.
Treatment. Rest.
So I wasn’t the only one trapped here.
Evening arrived quietly.
Orange light slipped through the roof, hay swaying with the breeze.
Something unfamiliar settled in my chest.
Longing. Or hope.
Maybe tomorrow he’d come again.
Maybe he’d notice something was wrong.
Maybe he’d realize—
I’m not just a horse.
I am a human.
Yet, I still couldn’t move my body.
No matter how hard I tried, but nothing.
Only breathing… if this counted as breathing.
The smell of animals filled my lungs.
This is insane.
I’m human. Not livestock.
I tried to scream.
A neigh came out.
Again and again.
I’m a world champion.
"Neigh."
Silence.
Am I losing my mind… or—
"Had I really become a horse? Reincarnation?"
The thought sent a chill through me.
"Reborn as… his horse?"
If that man was truly a prince—
then this body…
…might belong to him.
The idea terrified me.
And somehow—
comforted me.
From morning until night, he didn’t come.
Only servants.
Doctors.
Whispers I didn’t understand.
“This horse is clever,” someone laughed.
"Clever? Excuse me?"
I stared at the dark wooden ceiling.
…That man.
Why did he look at me like that?
I was probably overthinking it.
Still—
for some reason, I kept waiting.
