Chapter 71: My House Is Actually Pretty Big
"Ohhhh—! Kitasan Black! Kitasan Black!"
Under dazzling lights, surrounded by beautiful melodies and a wave of electrifying cheers, the black-haired girl standing in the center of the stage wore a stunning performance outfit. To the rhythm of the music, the glow of the lights, and the roar of the crowd, she began to sing and dance.
"Wow~ Kita-chan is absolutely dazzling!"
Waving the glow stick she'd prepared well in advance, Special Week bounced and hopped in excitement.
"As expected! No matter how many times I see it, the Winner's Stage is always this thrilling!"
"Yeah, it really is—"
Makoto barely got the words out before realizing that in the deafening roar of the crowd, his voice was completely swallowed.
He chuckled to himself without thinking, then took the glow stick Special Week had lent him and waved it toward the stage.
As the figure of Kitasan Black dancing was reflected in his eyes, the image of her crossing the finish line flashed unbidden in his mind—the two scenes overlapping for an instant.
Ever since the race ended, the moment of the finish had been playing over and over in his head.
Of course, there was joy.
But alongside it—perhaps even more than it—was an emotion he hadn't expected.
Peril.
An indescribable sense of peril.
Too close.
It had been far too close.
At the line, the distance between REAL STEEL and Kitasan Black had been razor-thin. From where he stood—dozens of meters away from the finish—his eyes had been tricked by the perspective into thinking they'd crossed together.
For a split second, he had even doubted—wondering if REAL STEEL had been faster.
After that pulse-pounding scare, Makoto was startled to realize something—over these past few months, as Kitasan Black steadily grew stronger, his own view of the Twinkle Series and the Umamusume had been quietly changing.
Before, all he knew was that the Twinkle Series was the most popular competition in the world, and that the Umamusume could become world-class idols. He had never really thought about why.
At the start, he'd simply found this unique world and its extraordinary beings fascinating. And with the attitude of "Well, I'm here now," he had simply accepted it as reality.
He'd always been like that—born into a family of trainers and Umamusume, becoming a trainer himself and living a steady life never seemed like a problem.
So, when he came to Tokyo and signed a contract with Kitasan Black, his mindset was simple: if he was going to be this girl's trainer, he would shoulder that responsibility properly.
She wanted to become a miracle horse like her senpais, she wanted to answer everyone's expectations, she had dreams she wanted to chase—so he would do everything in his power to help her.
But now—more accurately, in the moment he saw Kitasan Black cross the finish—Makoto finally understood the true charm of the Twinkle Series and the Umamusume.
They were too pure. Too genuine.
On the track, every single thought they had was just one thing: to give their all to win, to pour their entire hearts into answering the cheers of their supporters.
Before, he had only acted out of a sense of duty.
Perhaps, in his subconscious, he had thought that studying diligently every day, training carefully, and preparing races was already support.
But that wasn't it.
Over these past months of doing that day after day, something else had begun to grow—not just from a sense of responsibility or rationality, but deep within his emotions.
He had started to genuinely wish—to truly want—to do even more for Kitasan Black.
He wanted her to win every race in the future through their combined effort.
Of course, that was an almost impossible goal—Japan had never had an Umamusume achieve such a feat.
But maybe… that was what real, wholehearted support truly was.
. . . . . . . . .
The day after the Spring Stakes.
Hachioji City—Kitasan Black's home.
Standing by the sprawling garden lawn, which stretched across several thousand square meters, Makoto and a few other Umamusume were completely stunned.
They stared for a moment before a tall Umamusume girl with long silver-gray hair let out a gasp.
"Seriously?! Kita-chan, you did say your house was kind of big, but—"
She glanced at the black-haired girl next to her, who was scratching her head with a goofy smile.
"---to think it could be this big?! You could practically hold an Arima Kinen race here!"
"Ah, Golshi-senpai, you're exaggerating too much. Besides…"
Still scratching her head, Kitasan Black giggled for a bit, then said seriously:
"I'd never run at Nakayama Racecourse before, but after going there the other day, I feel like this place is still quite different from Nakayama."
Hearing that, Gold Ship froze for a moment, then waved her hand with a laugh.
"Come on, don't take it so seriously, Kita-chan. I'm just surprised your house is really this big."
The so-called Golshi was, of course, Gold Ship, who had just won the Hanshin Daishoten yesterday.
After her victory, she had her own winner's stage, just like Kitasan Black.
Once the stage was over, the two of them got back in touch.
Before the race, they'd talked about having a victory party. Gold Ship had been serious about it, and had already booked a famous restaurant in Chiba Prefecture.
But during the discussion, Kitasan Black said that since the senpais had helped her so much, and since Gold Ship had also won the Hanshin Daishoten, it only made sense—both emotionally and logically—that she should be the one treating everyone.
After the race, her grandfather had come backstage to congratulate her, and even suggested hosting a banquet to thank Makoto and all the other senpais.
So she figured—why not hold it at her place? Her home was big enough that no matter how many people came, there'd be no problem.
The Umamusume were all the easygoing type, and they'd known Kitasan Black for quite a while, so they agreed without hesitation.
Which led to Gold Ship and the others being so shocked now.
Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka, however, quickly came to terms with it.
"Alright, Goldshi, if you think about it, it's really not that surprising."
Patting Gold Ship on the shoulder, Vodka grinned:
"It's not like you don't know—Kita-chan's grandfather is the most famous musician in Japan, and her father plus all her uncles are also big names in the music world."
"With a family like that, having a house several times bigger than this wouldn't be strange at all."
"Right, Scarlet?"
"Exactly. And when I was organizing trainee profiles before, I skimmed through hers," Daiwa Scarlet added with a smile.
"This is just one of Kita-chan's residences. She mainly lives here because it's convenient for school and competitions."
"Saying that no matter where she goes to race, there's probably a residence about the same size nearby is not an exaggeration."
"You, my friend, are underestimating our adorable kouhai."
Gold Ship bristled.
"Underestimating? I've never underestimated Kita-chan! I just never imagined something like this, okay?"
After grumbling, she suddenly perked up, curling her right arm while pressing her left hand onto the bulge of her biceps, eyes gleaming as she stared at the wide lawn.
"Alright! Since we've got such a huge field here—and it looks great to run on—let's give it a try!
"I'll count to three, and we'll all start together!
"Three—"
"Alright! I'm going first!"
Not even making it to the second count, the Umamusume dashed forward with a mischievous grin.
"—Huh? Goldshi, that's totally cheating!"
Half exasperated and half amused, Vodka rolled her shoulders and took off after her without hesitation.
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