When he returned to the spectator stands, Yoshida gave him a direct glance.
"You're too slow. Why did it take you so long to buy coffee? The race is about to start."
"Something happened..." Fortunately, Kazuo was in a good mood because he had met Xiao Hai Wan earlier, so he didn't bother to argue with Yoshida and simply placed the two cans of coffee in front of him, saying:
"Which flavor do you want?"
Yoshida narrowed his eyes and looked: "MAX and Craft Boss? An old man like me isn't picky, either is fine."
He didn't rush to choose; instead, he asked Kazuo: "What about you? Which one do you like?"
Kazuo was startled but still answered honestly: "Well... as for me, I'm definitely a sweet coffee person. I'm not used to drinking anything too bitter."
"Alright then, give me the MAX."
Yoshida's answer was instantly decisive.
Kazuo couldn't help but roll his eyes: "No... normally, if the conversation continued, shouldn't you choose the black coffee?"
Yoshida, like an old mischievous child, glared back at him: "Do you think I'd accommodate you based on your preferences?"
Infuriating—
Yoshida grumbled: "Just because of preconceived notions, you're unwilling to try? Simply because it's bitter, you don't want to drink it? If you're unwilling to even believe in possibilities, how can you be a competent Trainer? This is a profession that gives hope to athletes. If even you are unwilling to believe in her, then who will choose to believe in her possibilities?"
These words instantly left Kazuo speechless. He couldn't help but realize this old man was using a trivial matter to lecture him again, and although he was reluctant, Kazuo still listened. Without another word, he handed the MAX to Yoshida, keeping the bitter coffee he had always avoided.
As if making a huge decision, Kazuo closed his eyes and took a sip.
A slightly sour taste spread across his taste buds, followed by an intensely bitter flavor, but after swallowing, the rich, mellow sensation lingering in his mouth did not dissipate for a long time. There even seemed to be a hint of a sweet aftertaste on his tongue.
Overall, the taste... didn't seem as bad as he had imagined?
It was surprisingly acceptable.
Seeing Kazuo's change in expression, Yoshida also showed a knowing smile, "The ancient saying 'rifujin' means not to think about things based on reason or common sense, and not to treat them with preconceived notions. This is also something you need to learn."
"Well... that's true."
Kazuo also knew that the old man was doing this for his own good, it's just that his methods and words were a bit too awkward.
"Since you've realized it, then submit a five-hundred-word reflection report."
"No, that won't be necessary—"
Despite being a prominent figure, Kazuo found it difficult to feel that unapproachable aura from him; on the contrary, while Yoshida's way of interacting with him was somewhat sharp, there was no class barrier.
If anything, it was more like an old friend who was also a mentor.
.
"What race is it now?"
While drinking his bitter coffee, Kazuo turned his gaze towards the track.
"The morning is for middle to short-distance cross races. Right now, it's the 1800m middle-distance turf race." Yoshida couldn't help but look at the turf across the way, "The one with absolute strength in this group should be Mihono Bourbon, right?"
"Eh? Are you that certain?"
Kazuo was a bit surprised; it was the first time he had seen Yoshida make such a definitive judgment.
This was beyond what could be simply described as confidence.
Yoshida, however, snorted, disdainful of Kazuo's question.
"Boy, do you think I've lived this long and still don't have that much discernment? At least in this group, for now, Mihono Bourbon indeed possesses strength far surpassing others."
Kazuo knew the person Yoshida was referring to, as he often attended classes in both BC sections and had a deep impression of the students in the class.
Mihono Bourbon, a student in the beginner C class, was usually a quiet presence. However, if one had to say, perhaps it was her serious and unsmiling aura that made her unapproachable.
She was the kind of person who seemed introverted, at least in Kazuo's eyes. In Class C, she was like a lone wolf.
However, with her tall and slender figure, she was quite a noticeable presence among the Uma Musume.
Her striking reddish-pink hair, her seemingly serious and earnest expression, and her model-like demeanor — if one were to describe her, it would be more accurate to say that her lack of expression made her appear very cold and serious.
At this moment, she stood in front of gate number six. As the commentator introduced the participants, the Uma Musume took the opportunity to do their final warm-ups.
Her limbs were very long and slender. Although she didn't appear to have much muscle, for Uma Musume, the muscle utilization in their legs was extremely high. Even the small and delicate Daijin, when she hit Kazuo's leg that day, it immediately resulted in a bruise on his calf.
"If you've seen her races, you'll understand what I mean."
Yoshida said, and as Kazuo pondered, he noticed another presence that was easily overlooked.
A small figure, like a little animal.
What Kazuo hadn't expected was that Rice Shower was also in this group. The race she had entered was also an 1800m middle-distance turf race.
However, what interested Kazuo more was that this girl, who seemed to attract no attention, had her gaze fixed on Mihono Bourbon, who stood in the distance.
It was a look filled with strong intent, a look he didn't recognize from the usually timid Rice Shower, who was not good at interacting with others.
Her gaze followed, as if chasing something.
By the time he realized this, the race was about to begin.
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