"I'm an idiot. Seriously."
On the way home, Kitahara Sota stared emptily ahead.
"I always knew money could make ghosts grind the millstone, but I never thought I'd be the one falling into that trap someday."
He'd clearly resolved to avoid becoming any Uma Musume's trainer until Eclipse graduated. Yet the moment Tokai Teio made her offer, he'd shamefully caved in.
For trainers at Tracen Academy, besides their generous base salary, their main source of income came from the prize money earned by their assigned Uma Musume.
Whenever their assigned Uma Musume won a race, trainers received a certain percentage of the winnings—a system designed to motivate them.
As one of JP's top-ranked Uma Musume, Tokai Teio's race earnings were at the pinnacle of the sport, and even the standard trainer's share was sizable. If doubled...
To put it simply, even if Teio stayed under his name without the double share, she'd still earn enough to support both him and Eclipse comfortably for life.
Of course, Kitahara understood Tokai Teio wouldn't remain under him indefinitely.
Once she proved her capability or had an accident preventing her from racing, his income source would dry up immediately.
But even that's fine!
With Teio's ability, even just one year—no, even half a year—could save him from struggling for several years or even a decade.
The lure of easy money had shamefully swayed him.
Besides, she'd explicitly stated he shouldn't interfere with her, meaning he wouldn't need to interact with her at all. There'd be no chances to accidentally increase affection or slip into a basement. As long as he handled things well, the odds of disaster approached zero.
All he had to do was lie around at home and watch the money flow into his bank account. Was there a better job in this world?
But even so, there was still one thing he needed clarified.
"Eclipse."
"Mm."
"You're the one who nudged Tokai Teio into choosing me, aren't you?"
A suspiciously convenient Teio had suddenly appeared, precisely needing a trainer like him who'd slack off completely. And she had "coincidentally" heard he liked money, offering exactly the right price he couldn't refuse.
Too many coincidences weren't coincidences at all.
Eclipse's face remained as calm as ever. "I didn't arrange anything. I just happened to hear she was worried about her trainer situation and casually mentioned knowing someone suitable."
That wasn't just casually mentioning. You practically handed her a targeted strategy to deal with me. Kitahara silently retorted as he took out his keys and unlocked the apartment door.
He pushed the door open, walked in, and sprawled out on the sofa as usual. Eclipse naturally went into the kitchen.
"What's for dinner tonight?" he asked.
"Carrot salad and stewed meat," she replied.
Indeed, they lived together.
But sadly, he and Eclipse weren't lovers.
If he had to define their relationship, he couldn't exactly say they were close—just that they'd been relying on each other since childhood.
Actually, if Kitahara lived alone, his previous jobs would have provided sufficient income. The real issue was Eclipse.
While Uma Musume had at least three times a human's physical strength, their calorie consumption was equally massive. Even inactive Uma Musume ate about twice as much as an adult human.
Some especially ravenous ones were legendary, like a certain overly round girl, or a certain small chestnut, or… Eclipse herself.
The first time Kitahara saw Eclipse's appetite, he'd been utterly shocked. After she entered puberty and started specialized training, her appetite skyrocketed even further, to the point that one ordinary meal cost him half a day's wages—without even including expensive ingredients.
He'd thought about sending her to a local Tracen branch to ease the financial burden with their cafeteria.
But Eclipse had adamantly refused, and local Tracen cafeterias, though subsidized, weren't fully free either.
He'd also considered having her race to earn prize money. He'd even discussed this with her, but she'd shown resistance, insisting that he'd have to be her trainer if she competed.
Kitahara was lazy, sure—but he wasn't completely trashy. He wouldn't force her into something she disliked.
Besides, the name "Eclipse" had never appeared in the game. She was probably just a talentless, ordinary Uma Musume who'd be crushed in actual races anyway.
Then, instead of prize money, her appetite would balloon from intense training, worsening his financial troubles.
But now, that wasn't an issue anymore.
"Tracen Academy HQ, huh…"
Kitahara slumped deeper into the sofa, gazing into the distance.
While the dark side hidden beneath its surface could be unsettling, the staff and students' unlimited access to the completely free buffet cafeteria was undeniably tempting.
Their food issue had been solved, and they'd have substantial income. He just needed to idle away the next few years, after which he could finally do whatever he wanted without worrying about money…
The only catch was the unintended involvement with Tokai Teio.
Tokai Teio stood near the top of his danger rankings—someone he should ideally avoid even exchanging a single word with. Comparable threats included Symboli Rudolf, Grass Wonder, and Satono Diamond.
He'd also mentally listed some Uma Musume he considered relatively safe, suitable for casual contact or even as potential tantou if truly desperate.
For example, Twin Turbo, Agnes Digital, and Gold Ship.
These three were eccentric heavyweights themselves—respectively representing "idiot," "pervert," and "alien." Not exactly easygoing, but surprisingly harmless mudslides—no, clear streams—amid the deluge of horrifying fanfiction.
They were so negative, they looped right around to positive.
But now that he already had two tantou—one being Tokai Teio—there was no longer a need to risk interacting with them.
As he drifted off into thought, dinner was soon ready. Midway through eating, he suddenly remembered something.
"By the way, Eclipse, come to think of it, I've never actually seen you lose—I mean, in a race."
"Why should I lose?" Eclipse shot back plainly.
That's not exactly how this works, right?
Her blunt question broke Kitahara's train of thought, so he quietly resumed eating, mulling it over.
Now that he really thought about it, Eclipse seemed quite a bit stronger than the average Uma Musume. Although she rarely competed, every race's outcome seemed entirely based on her mood.
In a good mood, she'd win by a slight margin; neutral, she'd crush her opponents decisively; in a bad mood… actually, she'd never been in a bad mood.
Ah, forget it. It's not like I'm counting on her to earn money anyway. Why worry about this pointless stuff?
"Sota."
After dinner, Eclipse's voice suddenly broke his thoughts.
Standing in the kitchen washing dishes with one hand, she calmly tapped the air with the other and said:
"Before bed tonight, do three thousand push-ups in thirty minutes."
"Why so many today?" Kitahara was startled. Eclipse occasionally issued random instructions, such as running a certain distance within a time limit or doing pull-ups, but she'd never demanded so much before.
"Could we maybe reduce it a bit?" he ventured carefully.
"Not even one fewer. And no delays or dividing them up," Eclipse calmly replied.
Completely indifferent about nearly everything else, Eclipse had always been particularly strict when it came to this.
Perhaps because he'd slacked off extra hard today, residual laziness surged through Kitahara, prompting a rare impulse to rebel.
"But… I refuse."
His expression became stern. "Kitahara Sota's favorite thing to do is—"
Eclipse stepped out of the kitchen, staring at him coldly, as if looking at a dead man.
"Do it or I'll jump you. Choose."
"...I'll do it. Okay? I'll do it."