Receiving the little notebook, Yasui Makoto feigned confusion.
"What's all this? Why the secrecy?"
"Hehe, you'll see once you take a look, Trainer!"
Kitasan Black eagerly wiggled her ears, her tail swaying excitedly behind her, as she clenched her fists in anticipation.
Beside her, Vodka leaned over curiously.
"Eh? What's all this mystery about? Can I have a look?"
"Mm-hmm! Actually, senpai, I wanted your opinion on it anyway!"
"Oh, really? Wait a second—isn't this about your opponents for your next race?" Vodka quickly glanced at the notebook in Yasui's hand, eyes widening with surprise.
"Kita-chan, you actually went and investigated them secretly?"
"Yep!" Nodding vigorously, Kitasan Black looked gratefully toward Yasui Makoto.
"I said before I wanted to help you somehow, Trainer, and I always keep my word. I know you probably already know all this way better than I do. But what if I can help even just a little bit?"
"If I'd known nothing, maybe I wouldn't think about it much. But now that I know how tough things can get, how could I possibly sit by and do nothing?"
Yasui, who had been flipping through the notebook, looked up, slightly puzzled.
"Tough things? What tough things?"
"Oh, that's right…"
Briefly recounting what she'd heard from her senpais about industry stories and pressures, Kitasan's ears drooped slightly.
"I'd heard before from my seniors that racing can be quite harsh, but honestly, I didn't really understand what that meant. But now, I realize how stressful things must be for you, Trainer."
"Grandpa and everyone else said you're an amazing trainer, that I should follow your lead no matter what. But if I don't do well, I'm sure that'd trouble you too, right? I did win my first two races, but neither was a graded stakes race."
"My next race is a tough G2, so I figured you must be even busier than usual."
Kitasan Black stared at Yasui earnestly, her bright red eyes shining with determination.
"So, no matter what, I need to do something to help you."
Yasui fell silent.
To be honest, he really did feel some pressure regarding the upcoming G2 race.
After hearing about Ohno Shoji from Kitajima Saburou, he'd done a bit of digging. It turned out this trading firm had quietly supported various Uma Musume for a long time. Their methods were subtle, so subtle in fact that few trainers or even the supported Uma Musume themselves knew about it.
Over the years, Ohno Shoji-backed Uma Musume had participated in roughly two thousand races, yet their overall victory rate barely reached ten percent. Their graded stakes results were even more dismal, with only two wins—and neither of those were G1 races.
Frankly, Yasui suspected the reason Ohno Shoji stayed low-key was precisely because their track record simply wasn't noteworthy enough to make noise about.
But regardless of performance, this was still a corporation.
He understood exactly the situation Kitasan had just described. In fact, he knew far better than any Uma Musume how ruthless businesses and wealthy sponsors could be.
The Uma Musume industry was built upon commercial foundations—ticket sales, broadcasting rights, support tickets, endorsements, merchandise, related industries, and even stock market activities. Every single revenue stream was substantial, financing everything from million- to billion-yen prize purses to the daily operations of academies and racecourses.
Take Oguri Cap, for instance—a legendary Uma Musume with the Hall-of-Fame title of "Ideal Idol."
During her active years, profits from Oguri Cap's merchandise alone reached 20 billion yen, and those products still remained bestsellers. Tickets and fan merchandise from her retirement race, the Arima Kinen, fetched astronomical prices on the resale market, and even official channels weren't cheap.
With such staggering potential revenue, businesses and powerful sponsors weren't involved in Uma Musume racing as charity; they focused exclusively on results.
To secure profits, the Uma Musume they supported had to win—and not just regular races, but graded stakes, especially the most prestigious ones.
Most Uma Musume didn't directly face this crushing pressure. Typically, it was trainers and management teams who bore the brunt.
Yasui understood all too well what Satono Gallant's trainer had endured, because he himself faced the exact same scenario.
He indeed had a contract with Kitasan Black—but the contract explicitly stated that if an Uma Musume failed to achieve "satisfactory results" within a certain timeframe, her family or sponsors had the unconditional right to terminate the agreement, retaining a vague yet worrying degree of accountability.
The definitions of "satisfactory" and "certain" weren't in Yasui's hands, but rather determined by lawyers and judges.
Emotionally, he'd gotten the impression from their last meeting that Kitajima Saburou approved of him. But Yasui never relied on feelings alone. Rationally, he had to admit that if the elderly sponsor ever grew dissatisfied, termination wouldn't be impossible to imagine.
Even if Kitajima-san had no objections, Ohno Shoji might think otherwise.
Whether terminating the contract outright or assigning a different trainer to handle Kitasan, such actions were completely within their rights.
This reality weighed heavily upon Yasui.
It wasn't that he was overly worried about the legal or logistical issues from contract termination. Rather, after spending all this time together, Kitasan Black's warmth, cheerfulness, sincerity, and straightforwardness had quietly touched him more deeply than he'd anticipated.
The thought of possibly parting ways with her honestly filled him with a quiet melancholy and regret.
He hadn't talked about these feelings with anyone. While his parents would certainly listen, he wasn't comfortable sharing his worries and didn't want to trouble them. So he'd silently shouldered these thoughts alone.
Yet now, even though Kitasan Black didn't fully understand the complexities, she was earnestly trying to help relieve his burden.
Feeling warmth rise within his chest, Yasui quickly changed his earlier plan.
"So that's why you were crouching in the bushes this morning with your butt sticking out, huh?"
He revealed something he had originally intended to hide, flipping through her little notebook with a gentle smile.
"Well, let's see. It's a bit rough as far as investigation reports go, but some of the perspectives are surprisingly insightful. I've always valued things like personality traits and psychological factors, and I've been thinking about ways to assess them. Kita-chan, you've actually given me some pretty good ideas."
In an instant, Kitasan's face turned bright red, and she instinctively reached back to touch her backside, embarrassed.
"M-my butt was sticking out?! Trainer, how did you even know—?!"
Meanwhile, Vodka looked decidedly unhappy, frowning at Yasui.
"Oi, Yasui! Is that really any way to describe a girl?"
Like Kitasan, Vodka was similarly straightforward. After spending time together, she'd long since dropped honorifics, calling Yasui by name and speaking bluntly about whatever was on her mind.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just..."
Offering Vodka a sincere but amused apology, Yasui turned his smiling gaze back toward Kitasan.
"I told you earlier today, right? I needed to test the drone. When we did some aerial filming this morning, I just happened to spot you hiding in the bushes."