Chapter 90: How Many Times Do I Have to Tell You Not to Call Me That in Such a Weird Way?
Running another training race right away was out of the question.
Although the intensity of a training race was lower than an official competition due to differences in venue, track, and setup, it wasn't without strain.
What came next had to be rest and recovery.
Not just for Kitasan Black, but also for the other Umamusume who had helped out.
A training race counted as high-intensity exercise, and there was a whole recovery protocol to follow afterward.
First came immediate cooldown: five to ten minutes of slow walking, light jogging, or cycling, followed by dynamic stretches such as lunges with torso twists or leg swings.
This helped promote lactic acid metabolism and blood circulation, reducing muscle stiffness and speeding up the clearance of metabolic waste.
About an hour after training was the golden recovery period. At that stage, static stretches were needed, along with alternating hot and cold baths, plus the use of foam rollers and massage guns.
Beyond that came deep recovery, which mainly meant replenishing carbohydrates, protein, and sufficient electrolytes.
All of these facilities were available at the academy's gym. Since the training race had tied up the field for a while, Makoto led Kitasan Black and the others over after exchanging a few words with Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen.
Before long—
"Ahhh! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Why does this thing hurt so much?!"
"Hmph… huff… It doesn't hurt at all, Scarlet… You're just too weak…"
"You—why don't you go find a mirror and take a look at your face right now? Tell me—does that look anything like someone who's not in pain?!"
"Mind your own business! This is exactly what I look like when I'm not in pain!"
Hearing the bickering between Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka, Makoto felt both unsurprised and slightly amused.
After months of being around them, he'd long noticed the two Umamusume were just as the rumors said—constantly competing with each other, no matter how trivial the matter.
So when it came to using recovery tools like foam rollers and massage guns, it was only natural that they would turn it into a contest of who could endure the pain better.
The tools were effective—releasing muscle tension, boosting circulation in targeted areas, and improving post-training recovery.
But there was a catch: using them hurt.
What did surprise him, though, was that Special Week didn't know how to use any of them.
A quick question revealed that back during her active years, she had indeed never used such tools.
Or rather, they didn't even exist in her generation.
That gave Makoto a new perspective on the development of the Japanese Umamusume racing world.
After thinking it over, he kept half an eye on the others while showing Special Week how to use the massage gun.
"Start with the gluteus medius."
He pointed out the spot as he explained: "Keep it at level one for now—just get used to the sensation."
"Because honestly… this thing does hurt."
"Like this?"
Following his instruction, Special Week placed the round head of the device on the outside of her hip and switched it on. She shivered instantly.
"Uhh… what a strange feeling… and it does hurt a little."
"Yep, that's right."
Makoto nodded. "Levels one to two are for muscle activation. Levels three to four are for relaxation, and levels five to seven are for breaking down lactic acid."
"Go up one step at a time as you adapt. Don't rush it."
"Okay, thank you, Yasui-san." Special Week nodded, carefully experimenting with the massage gun.
Once he saw she had a basic grasp of how to use it, he guided her to move it down toward the muscles around her Achilles tendon, while sweeping his gaze over the other Umamusume.
After confirming everything looked fine, he picked up the tablet placed just outside the recovery area and walked over to Kitasan Black.
For the training race, he had made extensive preparations—including post-race recovery.
All the Umamusume were wearing monitoring wristbands, with the data synced wirelessly to the tablet.
Judging from the numbers, Special Week and the others truly lived up to their reputations.
An Umamusume's racing ability wasn't just about their performance during the competition, but also how quickly they could recover afterward.
With ample experience, even without familiarity with massage guns, Special Week's recovery was progressing smoothly thanks to her solid training foundation. The others were even more so.
For example, after using the massage gun, Special Week's Achilles tendon elasticity index was gradually improving, Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka's heart rate variability was steadily returning to baseline, while Gold Ship's muscle tension index was slowly decreasing.
By comparison, Kitasan Black's recovery pace was a little slower.
That was why Makoto came over to personally guide his Umamusume.
Sensing his approach, Kitasan Black looked up at him, her face tight with effort, lips trembling as she held the massage gun in both hands.
"T- Trainer…"
"Mm. You can switch to the hamstrings now." Glancing at the tablet screen from the corner of his eye, Makoto nodded.
"H-hamstrings…?" Kitasan Black froze.
"The muscle group at the back of your thigh."
Turning slightly, Makoto patted the area to demonstrate. "Your main power output during races still comes from your leg muscles. Run it for one to two minutes each time, and hold for ten to fifteen seconds on tender spots."
"I-I see…"
Her voice was a little shaky as she tried to angle the massage gun where he'd indicated. "Is it… here?"
Noticing the mistake instantly, Makoto frowned without thinking and shook his head. "No, not there."
Setting down the tablet, he stepped to her side and motioned with his hand.
Kitasan Black blinked, then quickly realized he was asking for the massage gun. Without thinking much of it, she handed it over.
The very next second, she felt a strong hand press down on her thigh, while something round and firm pressed against the back of her leg.
"T- Trainer—ahhh—!"
Her startled cry broke off halfway as a wave of soreness mixed with stinging pressure shot through her hamstrings, spreading all through her body. An involuntary moan slipped from her lips.
"I've told you so many times—don't call out like that in such a weird way…"
Shaking his head with a trace of helplessness, Makoto held her outer thigh with one hand while using the massage gun with the other, frowning slightly as he muttered on.
"And I've said more than once, you have to use this tool on the right spots, or you'll get hurt."
"Especially around the popliteal fossa—there are lots of superficial veins there. You were just about to hit that area."
"With this kind of vibration frequency, you could easily compress the nerves and blood vessels, maybe even faint."
"If you're not sure about the position, ask me first before trying it…"
Focused on guiding her recovery, Makoto didn't notice that his Umamusume was staring at him with flushed cheeks.
Meanwhile, the other Umamusume were giving them strange looks.
Daiwa Scarlet, Vodka, and Gold Ship all looked amused but unsurprised, as if this kind of scene was nothing new—with Gold Ship even appearing a little too entertained by the spectacle.
Special Week, on the other hand, looked more conflicted—half awkward, half faintly curious.
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