**Chapter 27: Transaction Concluded**
"You know, they say idiots don't catch colds, but I guess you're the exception, huh?" Kanna Ogawa teased, her voice laced with playful mischief as she leaned against the doorframe, eyeing her brother sprawled across the bed.
Masaru groaned, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I'm living proof that saying's still true." He tried to sound defiant, but the stuffy nose betrayed him.
A sharp *ding* from his phone broke the moment. Before Masaru could react, Kanna's slender arm shot out, snatching the device from his nightstand.
"Hey! Don't mess with my stuff, you gremlin!" Masaru tried to sit up, but Kanna pressed a hand to his forehead, pinning him back with ease.
"Sick people should rest," she said sweetly, her tone dripping with fake concern as she tapped the screen. The phone unlocked instantly. "Your birthday as the password? Really, Masaru? That's pathetic."
She scrolled through his contacts, smirking. "Not a single girl in here besides me. Wow, you're hopeless."
Masaru's face flushed. "Stop snooping!" He craned his neck, trying to see what she was doing as her fingers danced across the screen. "What're you typing? Kanna!"
"Oh, relax," she said, tossing the phone onto the bed with a flourish. "You're welcome, by the way." With a mischievous grin, she sauntered out of the room, leaving Masaru scrambling to check his phone.
He opened his chat history, heart pounding. A few messages had been sent, but nothing too embarrassing—thankfully. Still, he typed out a quick explanation to undo whatever chaos Kanna might've started, just to be safe. His head flopped back onto the pillow, a mix of relief and lingering unease settling in.
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The next morning, the crisp air at Nishiken Ranch carried the faint scent of hay and horses. Kanna stepped out of the car, her boots crunching on the gravel as she adjusted her scarf. Kitano, a familiar face at the ranch, greeted her with a polite nod.
"How's Masaru doing?" he asked, his tone warm but professional.
Kanna smiled, all charm and poise. "He's still a bit wobbly, but he's up and moving. Thanks for asking." If Masaru were here, he'd probably roll his eyes at her polished act—she could almost hear him muttering about her "fake nice" routine.
"Good to hear," Kitano said, visibly relieved. He gave a slight bow. "I'm counting on you today, Miss Ogawa."
Kanna waved off the formality. "No need to be so stiff. I've got this."
Kitano wasn't as familiar with Kanna as he was with her father, Ogawa Take, or Masaru. But word around the ranch was that Kanna's eye for horses rivaled her father's.
Even Masaru, grudgingly, had admitted it. "She's way better at spotting a good horse than I am," he'd told Kitano once, his tone equal parts annoyed and proud.
They arrived at Newborn Ranch a little early, but Kimura, the ranch manager, was already waiting at the gate, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Mr. Kitano, welcome!" His eyes flicked to Kanna, lingering for a moment before he added, "This way, please."
Kanna's gaze sharpened as she scanned the ranch, her demeanor shifting to something almost intimidating, like an inspector ready to find fault. Kimura scratched his head, clearly thrown off by her intensity.
The staff led a young horse, Resistance Queen, to an open area by the pasture. Kanna's eyes zeroed in on the filly's right hind leg, which moved with a subtle but noticeable limp. She leaned toward Kitano, keeping her voice low. "You know what lameness means for a racehorse, right?"
Kitano nodded. "I'm aware. I've done my homework."
"Good," Kanna said, her wariness easing. If it were Masaru, he'd probably be yammering on, trying to talk Kitano out of a bad deal. But Kanna wasn't one to meddle. If Kitano knew the risks and was still set on the horse, that was his call.
She approached Resistance Queen, her movements slow and deliberate. Unlike the usual high-strung two-year-olds, this filly was calm, almost too calm. Kanna waved a hand in front of her eyes, and the dark bay horse tilted her head, studying her with quiet curiosity.
"Bit dull, aren't you?" Kanna murmured, half to herself. She crouched to inspect the horse's legs and hooves, noting the sturdy build and powerful frame. Resistance Queen's gait hinted at strength, and her pedigree screamed dirt racing potential. Lameness aside, she was a horse built for the track.
Kanna straightened and returned to Kitano, her expression neutral. "She's docile—maybe too docile. But her legs have real power, and her build's solid. Great lower back strength, too. She's got dirt racing in her blood." She paused, then added, "Shame about the lameness."
The ranch staff, who'd been watching anxiously, seemed to hold their breath. Kimura's smile faltered.
"It's fine," Kitano said calmly. "That was expected. Thank you, Miss Ogawa."
Kanna shrugged, a playful glint in her eye as she noticed the staff's nervous glances. "Just doing my job."
Kitano's focus shifted to Resistance Queen. He opened his system panel—a mental habit he'd developed for evaluating horses—and ran three Detectors on the filly. The results confirmed what he suspected:
[Miss Pro2023 / Resistance Queen (Unnamed)]
[Filly, 2, Dark Bay]
**Distance Aptitude:** ?
**Track Aptitude:** Turf △ Dirt ◎
**Running Style:** ?
**Growth Type:** ?
**Temperament:** ?
**Personality:** ?
**Speed:** ?
**Stamina:** ?
**Guts:** ?
**Instantaneous Power:** B-
**Power:** C+
**Health:** ?
**Wisdom:** ?
**Mental Strength:** ?
**Flexibility:** ?
The stats backed up Kanna's assessment: Resistance Queen was a dirt racer with potential, despite her flaws. Kitano's gaze softened as he looked at the filly. 'Even if you never win a race, I'll make sure you run healthy,' he thought. That was enough for him.
He turned to Kimura, extending a hand. "No issues on my end, Mr. Kimura. Transaction concluded."
Kimura's sweaty palm met his, relief washing over his face. Beside them, Kanna watched with a faint smile. Word was, Resistance Queen would be sent to Nishiken Ranch for training.
'That'll keep Dad and Masaru busy,' she thought, already imagining her brother's complaints. For now, though, she was content to let the moment unfold, the quiet satisfaction of a job well done settling in.
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