After exchanging contact information with Tazuna, Kuroha said his goodbyes and wandered around Central Tracen Academy alone, treating it as a chance to familiarize himself with the grounds.
Before long, he found himself near one of the training facilities—the same one he had seen when touring with Ginjirou Musaka.
After a moment of thought, he walked up and knocked.
Inside came Ginjirou's deep voice.
Opening the door, Kuroha found the veteran trainer sitting alone at his desk, pen in hand, scribbling notes.
"Well now, kid. How'd you get in here?"
"Yo, it's been a while, Ginjirou-senpai!" Kuroha greeted with a grin.
The old man froze, then realized who it was.
"Kuroha… you passed the exam, then?"
When Kuroha nodded, Ginjirou sighed deeply, as if recalling something unpleasant.
"If only that brat Kitahara had done the same…"
"Kitahara? What happened?"
Hearing the familiar name, Kuroha perked up. After all, he'd spent a month at Kasamatsu with him.
"…Failed miserably," Ginjirou muttered.
"When Fujimasa March transferred to Oi, that kid was struggling. And this time, he bombed the written exam—didn't just fail, he scored near the very bottom."
The old man's mustache bristled as he scowled.
"Damn near made me spit blood."
Kuroha could only shake his head. The written exam wasn't exactly difficult… wasn't it supposed to be almost a given to pass?
"Enough about him."
Taking a sip of tea, Ginjirou steadied his breathing before giving Kuroha a sharp look.
"So, since you passed, why aren't you back in Oi handling your transfer? What brings you here?"
Kuroha sat down casually beside him.
"Just wandering. Thought I'd drop by, since it's been a while."
As he spoke, his eyes flicked to the papers scattered across the desk.
Not Oguri Cap.
Not Fujimasa March.
But—Tamamo Cross.
"…The Autumn Tenno Sho?" Kuroha asked quietly.
"Yeah."
Ginjirou nodded, not bothering to hide it. But his tone carried a trace of helplessness.
"I promised Oguri that if she won the Mainichi Okan, I'd let her run the Autumn Tenno Sho. And now… I can't exactly take it back."
The Mainichi Okan—known as the "Super G2." In some years, it even outshone G1 races.
Normally, it served as a gathering place for top-tier Uma Musume of all distances, a frontline preview of the G1 season.
But the Okan and the Tenno Sho were scheduled dangerously close together.
This year, the Okan was set for October 9th—just one day before Fujimasa March's Tokyo Crown. The Autumn Tenno Sho fell on October 30th.
Only twenty-one days apart.
For an Uma Musume at that level, it was unthinkable. Recovery required at least a full month between major races.
"…She shouldn't run it."
Kuroha's voice was firm.
"In just twenty-one days, Oguri can't possibly recover fully."
Ginjirou's hand on the teacup trembled slightly.
"…I know."
He looked up, his eyes bare without their usual sunglasses. Gone was his calm composure—what remained was something heavier, conflicted.
"But it's her wish. She earned it with her own victory in the Okan. She fought for this chance herself."
Kuroha frowned.
Indeed—between trainer and Uma Musume, there was more than rules and cold logic. There were promises. Bonds.
This world was not the same as his past life's reality.
In reality, Oguri Cap had been forced into endless battles, wrung out as a tool for money.
But here—this Oguri fought purely out of her own will.
Okan. Then Tenno Sho. Then the Japan Cup. Then the Arima Kinen.
Every race spaced less than a month apart.
Each one G1.
The sheer madness of that campaign made Kuroha click his tongue.
But in the end, he didn't push further. He only smiled faintly.
"So, you're studying Tamamo Cross, then?"
"Yeah…" Ginjirou picked up his pen again, eyes fixed on the stack of reports.
"…You were right, kid. It's the power of a Domain."
"Tamamo really is the 'Strongest of the Present.'"
Ever since Kuroha's reminder, Ginjirou had been paying close attention to Tamamo Cross, even rewatching old race footage again and again.
To be sure, he had asked Tazuna to confirm. And as a seasoned Central veteran, she saw through it instantly.
"Yes, that's a Domain," she'd said with a knowing smile. "She's truly an exceptional Uma Musume."
Back in the present, Ginjirou pushed himself up with his cane.
"This kind of power is beyond common sense. I honestly don't know how to counter it."
Kuroha chuckled.
"What else is there to do? At the end of the day, a Domain is just a way to make an Uma Musume run faster. Nothing mystical about it."
With two and a half Domain users on his team—Fujimasa March, Inari One, and half-count Sakura Chiyono O—he was well beyond being impressed by it.
"The only goal in a race is victory. Cross the finish line first, and nothing else matters. If Oguri runs faster than Tamamo, then even a Domain can't change the result."
"…Easy for you to say."
Ginjirou snorted, but the faint twitch of his lips betrayed a reluctant smile.
Just then—
Ring ring ring—
Kuroha's phone buzzed.
"This time of day… who's calling me?"
Pulling it out, his eyes widened at the caller ID.
Obey Your Master.
"…Ame?"
Ginjirou noticed too and waved him off.
"Go on. You've just joined Central, plenty to handle. Don't waste time on this old man."
Kuroha rose, bowing lightly.
"Then I'll take my leave, senpai."
"Go, go." Ginjirou's attention had already drifted back to the papers, eyes burning with focus.
Closing the door behind him, Kuroha walked a few steps down the hall before answering.
"Morning?"
"Hi! Trainer, good morning!"
The bright, familiar voice of a blonde girl rang through the line.
Kuroha couldn't help but smile.
"Morning, Ame. What's this? Planning to enter the Japan Cup in your younger form?"
There was a pause on the other end.
"…Trainer, in what form do you wish me to run?"
Kuroha hesitated briefly, then replied warmly.
"No matter the form, Ame—you'll win."
...
—West Coast, United States.
At her training grounds, Obey Your Master listened to his words.
She, who could endure the harshest words from rivals without flinching, now felt her eyes sting with heat.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed down the swell of emotion.
"Trainer, I've booked a flight for October 23rd, two days from now. I'll arrive in Tokyo for acclimation training."
"Two days? Just in time."
"In time?"
"In time to watch the biggest rival you might face in the Japan Cup."
"…Ame, when you return, come train with my team first," Kuroha added with a firm tone.
"But…" She faltered.
"No buts. That's an order from your trainer."
There was a long silence. Then, with a laugh that masked tears, she nodded to herself.
"…Yes, my trainer."
After the call ended, the golden-haired girl stood alone for a moment, then slowly lifted her gaze to the clear, endless sky.
"The stage of the Japan Cup…" she whispered, her voice steady with unshakable resolve.
"I will win!"
Her desire for victory had never burned so bright.
(End of Chapter)
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