This baffling contest ended with Super Creek's crushing defeat.
And she accepted it wholeheartedly.
After hearing Kitahara Sota's accounts of caring for those little ancestors, she no longer doubted for a moment that his ability surpassed hers.
Not only did she stop doubting—she even felt pity for him. Sympathy. She wanted to say some words of comfort, but no matter how she tried, she couldn't think of anything that would work.
But Kitahara wasn't the type to wallow in self-pity. After venting about how troublesome those little ancestors were, he quickly returned to normal.
Bidding Creek farewell, he walked back to his team, thinking over the insights he'd gained from their exchange, and resumed his usual quiet daily life.
Some of the girls were curious about where he'd gone. Kitahara didn't hide it, telling them honestly what had happened.
Of course, he left out the part about pretending to be Hajime's boyfriend.
His relationships with his Uma Musume were all "normal," but still—that part was embarrassing. If word spread, it could expose the lie before it even began. So he just said he might be going out soon to help Hajime with something.
After brushing off a few curious kittens, Kitahara as usual pulled out his phone and opened the forums and trainer group chat.
The forums were livelier than ever. With a flood of transfer students, posts from obvious newbies filled the boards.
For example, one thread titled "Why can Uma Musume freely enter and leave trainers' dorms!? Isn't that weird!?" had somehow climbed to the top, despite being posted a month earlier.
Curious how a month-old thread was still pinned at the top of the anonymous board, Kitahara clicked in—
[Poster]:This is way too weird, okay? Even though I found my exclusive trainer, how is this proper at all? — June 2nd.
[Poster]:No matter what anyone says, I can't accept this kind of thing. — June 4th.
[Poster]:I kind of understand now why it's like this, but still, isn't it over the line? — June 15th.
[Poster]:Any senpai know how to get a key to the trainers' dorms? — June 29th.
[Poster]:Also, anyone know how to submit an application to the Student Council? I think tantou should be officially arranged to live in their trainer's dorm. It's better for training. — July 14th.
Mm. A vivid record of how a transfer Uma Musume was rapidly assimilated.
…Wasn't that pace a little too fast? Kitahara frowned and kept scrolling.
He found a new post aimed at freshmen, explaining Tracen's odd little "facts."
Reading it, Kitahara realized the earlier case was actually slow.
According to this post, the record for fastest "contract jump" after signing with a trainer was one and a half days.
Granted, that record belonged to a pair who already had feelings for each other, were separated for a time, then reunited. They signed within a week, and the very next day the trainer was "jumped" in the dorm.
Well. Mm.
Kitahara honestly didn't know what to say. Except to be grateful he had no need to worry about such things.
Because while he had helped plenty of Uma Musume before, most had been very small, very young girls.
And aside from a handful of exceptions, he hadn't grown close to them. No deep bonds. Nothing that could possibly spiral into that situation.
As for the handful of exceptions—Oguri Cap, Special Week, Nice Nature—
Just look at them. Perfectly normal.
Nice Nature even avoided him nowadays. Rock solid. No chance of accidents.
Finished with the forum, Kitahara opened the trainers' group chat.
They were talking about team mergers.
Exactly what it sounded like: two teams combining into one, usually because their trainers started dating or even got married. One trainer would become an assistant, and both would co-manage the team's Uma Musume.
It wasn't common at Tracen, so the topic quickly fizzled out.
Kitahara barely paid it any mind.
Team mergers were vanishingly rare—none had happened in the last three years. A small-probability event among small-probability events. No way it could ever happen to him, a trainer who barely even knew anyone else.
And most importantly, team mergers required not just both trainers' agreement, but the consent of all members of both teams—including the Uma Musume themselves.
And Kitahara's reputation, though it had risen dramatically with the flood of new transfers, was still under control thanks to his relentless self-deprecation campaigns.
In fact, his anonymous account had become such a well-known leader in the "Anti-Kitahara" camp that even those who disliked him followed its every post. Its prestige was absurdly high.
Under those circumstances, if anyone ever tried to merge teams with him, he only needed to whisper a word to his girls. They'd spread enough unflattering rumors that the idea would collapse instantly.
So he skimmed it, uninterested.
After confirming there was nothing pressing in the chat, he switched over to videos and sank back into his "stable," "safe" daily life.
…Though his life was smooth lately—better than usual, even, with some extra money in his pocket—
On the other side, someone long forgotten wasn't having quite as pleasant a time…
…
Tracen Academy Main Campus. Student Council Room.
A certain individual, who requested anonymity, the Emperor of Tracen, undefeated Triple Crown winner—Symboli Rudolf.
She had just finished her paperwork and was cheerfully plotting how to sneak out to slack off, when her phone buzzed on the desk.
She picked it up, glanced at the screen—
And her smile visibly drained away. The pressure radiating off her body intensified, to the point that the two vice-presidents beside her could feel it.
But Air Groove and Narita Brian didn't even blink. They kept working, as if nothing was wrong.
It wasn't that they feared Rudolf. They'd been together for years, through thick and thin. They'd clashed before, even restrained her when she lost her temper. Others might tremble before the Emperor's wrath, but they were long used to it.
The problem now wasn't something they could solve.
Family marriage pressure? Not even they knew how to help.
Soon enough, they'd face the same themselves.
Air Groove might hold out longer—decisive, commanding, able to bend her family.
But Narita Brian? Her sister was right here in Tracen, and the hints about finding her a match had already begun.
In theory, both should've long since paired with their trainers—like many seniors before them. But…
Air Groove? Cool and dignified on the surface, but privately a little afraid of men. And she was straight.
Narita Brian? She had chosen a male trainer. But that trainer was a legend like Kudou Kazuya.
Not as senior, only a decade at Tracen—but he'd handled more tantou than Kudou. And never once had he engaged in improper relations. Never once had he even been forcibly jumped.
Because—he didn't like women.
He'd been married long ago.
So for now, both vice-presidents were safe.
But Rudolf…
Her age wasn't even that high. Older than Kitahara Sota, yes, but nowhere near desperate. She had time.
And besides the three present, the Student Council had an unlisted "fourth member"—Maruzenky. Older still, unmarried, carefree, never pressured.
That only made Rudolf burn with more resentment. Convinced the old woman was tormenting her deliberately.
And as her grievances swirled in the air of the council room, a familiar set of light footsteps tapped at the door.
At once, Rudolf calmed her aura.
A small figure peeked in, slipped inside, greeted Brian and Air Groove politely, then pulled up a chair beside Rudolf, staring at her with wide eyes.
Naturally, it was Tokai Teio. She had long idolized Rudolf, and Rudolf in turn had nurtured her as a successor.
So Teio had been granted free entry to the council room since early in her enrollment, and she often visited.
She never did much. Just sat, watching Rudolf. The others were used to it.
Recently, her visits had lessened—training, debut races, a circle of new friends. But lately, she'd been coming more again.
Rudolf knew why.
She herself often sneaked off to Kitahara's dorm to spy, so of course she knew about his little "training camp."
When she first heard, she'd been shocked. Looking at the circle of Uma Musume around him on the field, she'd hesitated, then—for his safety's sake—gently advised him not to.
He had understood. And flatly refused.
Said his girls were trustworthy. Reliable. He was only doing it for work.
The confidence on his face that day…
She'd wanted to keep persuading him. But seeing that expression, she had instead wanted to grab a wooden sword and beat some sense into him.
She also knew why Teio was the only one not invited to his camp.
Because in some ways, Teio was just like her.
Possessive.
If she so much as showed affection to another child in Teio's sight, Teio's mood would visibly plummet.
And Rudolf could understand. She'd been the same as a child.
Kids value what's theirs. They don't want to share.
Rudolf had also noticed how close Kitahara and Teio had grown. To Teio, he was not merely a nominal trainer.
And Rudolf had no intention of stopping it.
As Kitahara himself once said, Teio had the right to choose her own path.
In fact, Rudolf almost wanted to encourage it.
Trainers and tantou forming bonds was normal. And Kitahara was a man she approved of.
But more importantly, if Teio wanted to deepen that bond, she needed to officially become his tantou. She needed a trainer.
Rudolf had already resolved not to interfere directly. But guiding her softly? Of course she would.
Kitahara himself supported such guidance. Children had the right to choose—but parents had the duty to nudge them toward the right road.
What he didn't know was that he was Rudolf's chosen bait.
Except—this bait had backfired.
Rather than draw Teio closer, it made her resist. Refusing the camp. Growing restless.
Though she looked as lively as ever, Rudolf, with her experience, saw through it.
But she didn't know how to help. She wasn't good with children. And she couldn't discuss it with Kitahara—he was the bait.
So all she could do was chat with Teio when she visited, offer her honey drinks, try to soothe her unease.
It worked somewhat.
For though Teio had affection for Kitahara, that bond was months old. Her bond with Rudolf stretched from childhood, years of admiration and care. Rudolf was her sun.
So whenever she grew agitated by Kitahara's distance, she sought Rudolf to steady herself.
But today, while Rudolf tried to strengthen her, something slipped.
After finishing paperwork, she idly chatted with Teio, sensing her mood wasn't fit for study.
The conversation drifted to their earlier quarrel.
Rudolf admitted fault, said she'd interfered too much.
Had Kitahara not directly reminded her, their fight might have dragged on and harmed their bond.
At that, Teio froze.
"Trainer-san… he said that to you?"
"Hm? He didn't tell you?"
"No. That day he only said he talked with you about work. He just asked if you knew anyone from the Symboli family…"
"…Then perhaps he was afraid you'd be upset. He promised not to interfere in your matters. Maybe he felt this was too close, and so he stayed silent."
When Teio left the council room, her eyes were distant.
She had believed her persistence had won Rudolf's acknowledgment. But now… what was it really?
It was Kitahara.
He had cleared the way for her. Quietly. Without telling her.
The weights she had stacked on the side of her convictions slipped away, falling onto the other side of the scale.
Was she angry? Yes.
But not at Kitahara—at herself.
For being selfish. For ignoring advice. For fighting with Rudolf, cold shouldering her, all for her stubborn dream of the undefeated Triple Crown.
And yet he had borne it. Respected her choice. Cleared obstacles in her path.
If Rudolf hadn't mentioned it today, she might never have known.
And then she remembered how, during the camp, he'd noticed her eating alone and silently switched her honey drink from medium to large. How he lingered in the lounge to chat with her.
She'd brushed it off then, too upset to care, assuming he was just spending more now that he earned more.
But thinking now—those had been for her.
He was only a nominal trainer. He didn't have to care. She'd been selfish. And still…
Guilt swelled in her heart. The scales tipped.
"Trainer-san…"
She whispered.
And a voice answered.
"What is it, Teio?"
Startled, Teio jerked her head up.
And there he was, standing in the moonlight, worry etched in his eyes.
In an instant, the scale crashed down.
She flung herself into his arms.