Gray-maned umamusume cannot run.
That had been a prevalent thought that existed amongst the Japanese. Those whose manes bore the stain of silver did not have the ability to compete on the world's stage. They were just too slow, too weak, too frail.
White Narubi had believed that once as well. She herself was a gray-haired umamusume, and though she'd attempted to race in her past, she had failed. In the end, she too had fallen behind, and unwilling to continue, she'd left her racing days behind.
But,
"I-Is this really necessary…?" Oguri Cap whispered, pressing her hands down on the skirt of the Central uniform she was wearing. It'd only arrived recently in the mail, and initially excited, her daughter had immediately worn it, not realizing that the uniform provided only a skirt.
White Narubi shook her head. "It's fine." She gently ruffled her daughter's hair. "You look perfect in it."
Her daughter smiled, a healthy blush coloring her cheeks as her tail swayed side to side. "I-If you say so, mom."
White Narubi smiled. Once she'd believed that those born with gray manes could not run. And when Oguri was still young, she believed her daughter would suffer the same fate she did.
But she didn't. Her daughter did not bow to fate. Her weak legs blossomed into a strength that tore the race tracks apart, as if blessed by the Three Goddesses themselves. Many of her friends often praised her for raising Oguri so well, but she knew full well that it was Oguri herself that had saved her.
Ah, how blessed she is. To know that her daughter could now race in Central—a feat she never thought would've been possible. To see her daughter so lively, having found a trainer she liked and a Team she deeply cared for. To watch her daughter simply stand despite her younger days.
"Thank you, Oguri-chan."
"Mm? Did you say something, mom?"
White Narubi shook her head. "It's nothing, dear." She smiled as she gently led Oguri to the door. "Go on now. I'm sure Kitahara-san is already waiting for you at the train station."
Oguri nodded excitedly as she turned to leave. But just as she did, she stopped for a moment. "Mom," she turned back and waved. "Watch me!"
White Narubi smiled brightly. "I will."
…
Belno's eyes were twinkling as she stood in front of the mirror, awed by the reflection she saw. The Central Tracen Academy uniform had just been sent just a day prior, and after excitedly waiting for it to be washed and cleaned, Belno could finally wear it. And to say she was pleased would be an understatement.
Kenta, her foolish husband, cheered wildly as he took photos of their daughter from various angles, much to Belno's embarrassment. "D-Dad…!" She screamed as she tried to kick him away, but having raised her all her life, Ryo just laughed loudly as he avoided her kicks with ease.
Hiraku Ryu stifled a snort as she watched. Their house was never quiet with her foolish husband around, and though she would never admit it, she was glad that he was the one she'd tied her fate with. She could scarcely imagine her life spent with anyone else after all this time.
Her expression dimmed for a moment.
Seeing her daughter wear the uniform of the prestigious Central Tracen was no doubt a joyous occasion, but she couldn't help but feel somewhat ashamed of herself.
When Belno first proposed that she would become a racer, she did not believe her. Her daughter just wasn't fast; she was not fit to race. Rather, her technical skills had always impressed her, and though she never said it, she believed her daughter would easily one day inherit the sports-store she and her husband ran.
But Ryo, that loving fool, easily cheered her on. "Chase your dream!" He had said back then, a bright smile brimming with confidence, as if their daughter's lackluster strength never worried him in the slightest.
And then she did. Belno Light ran in her debut, and on that day, she was first introduced to the umamusume who would soon bear the moniker of 'The Tactician'.
A dazzling performance. Her daughter controlled her races like a silent puppeteer, and no matter how much her opponents tried, it always seemed as if her daughter was always two or three steps ahead. That abundant technical skills she thought would only serve her in business became the hidden blade she wielded against her competitors.
She had shed tears during her daughter's Winning Concert, and it was one of the few things she was unashamed of.
…Now then,
"Enough." She called out to the two of them. And when the father-daughter duo failed to hear her, she loudly stomped onto the floor, causing both to freeze up. "Enough dawdling, you fool. Our daughter needs to head to the train station." Her eyes narrowed. "Get yourselves prepared. I'll get the car."
"Y-Yes ma'am!" Both cried out together.
Hiraku Ryu huffed as she turned to find her car keys, subtly hiding her smile as she did.
…
"...it's gone, huh?" Kitahara muttered, smiling softly as he opened his wallet. Aside from his usual lack of Yen, his wallet was now missing a card he'd always had. The Local Trainer license he'd spent a couple years working for, gone.
Surprisingly, he didn't feel all that shaken about it. In a way, he supposed he always felt like he never really deserved that license. Before meeting his trainees, he had never put in any effort. He was lazy, slothful—no better than the bum he'd been before he became a trainer.
But he didn't regret becoming a trainer. Even if he'd lost his license, it was precisely because he became a trainer that he found his trainees in the first place. Team Kitahara owed its existence to it, and without it, he would've never gotten where he was now.
He glanced at the train station he stood outside of. The shinkansen they booked would be here in just a few dozen minutes, and it would take them to Central.
He chuckled slightly as he put his wallet back in his pocket.
At first he'd dreamed of taking Oguri to the Tokai Derby; the dream that he had when he was younger. That wouldn't come into fruition now, but that was because his team had shown him an even grander dream that they could now achieve.
The Japanese Derby!
One of the three legs of the famous Triple Crown. Never in his life had he believed he could ever take on something so daunting, and yet his team had proved otherwise.
The Beast, The Comet, and The Tactician—those were the names Kasamatsu had given his three trainees. He found them pretty cool honestly, though he knew Blossom Star always found them somewhat chuunibyo-sounding.
He smiled as he glanced at the sky.
"Let's take over the world!" That was what he'd so proudly claimed when he first formed Team Kitahara, and much to his embarrassment, that had become something of an unofficial slogan between them. Still, despite that, his heart was full knowing that his trainees were so willing to venture across a path that had never been traversed before.
Compared to them, he was just a faint ember following behind the shadows of pioneers. But he was fine with that. He'd often heard anecdotes from Central trainers about how their trainees had taught them valuable lessons, and surely he too had experienced the same.
"Oguri, Star, Belno…" He clenched his fist. "Let's do it together-!"
He raised his fist to the sky. "Let's take over the world!"
…
What is a Hero?
Is it someone who stands above everyone else? Is it someone who stands when no one else can? Or maybe it's someone who charges ahead regardless of what may await?
If Yoshida Fumiko had heard that question, she'd easily say that her daughter was a Hero.
"...huh." Blossom Star whispered, blinking in surprise as her husband finished measuring her height. "I guess I did get a little taller, huh?"
Her husband nodded as he pulled the measuring tape back. "Don't worry. You'll still fit in your new uniform. And hey, if it gets too tight, you can just request for a replacement." He grinned slyly. "You're a Central girl now. Might as well use those new privileges since you can, eh?"
Star chuckled. "Yeah, yeah."
Fumiko smiled silently as her daughter slowly twirled, causing the hem of her new uniform's skirt to sway as she spun. She was no seamstress herself, but even she could tell that Central Tracen's uniform was much higher quality compared to Kasamatsu Tracen's. The uniform was sturdy but flexible, allowing umamusume to run at full speed without obstructing them. "It fits you." She eventually said after her prolonged silence.
Her sudden words caused Star to blink, and then she blushed slightly as she looked away. "Geez, what's with the sudden compliment?" She whispered, though the swaying of her tail betrayed her words. "Didn't you-, hey!"
Fumiko's smile was gentle as she reached over and patted her daughter's head. Star tried protesting for a little bit, before she just accepted the gesture.
"Star."
"Hmm?"
"Go and run. Run however many races you want." Fumiko said. "But keep yourself safe, okay? No matter what, don't be reckless. Slow down if you need to." She closed her eyes. "Please."
She'd already said this before, and she had to say it again. She knew she was just being a worrywart—it was one of her flaws, she knew—but that was fine. Her daughter might have the potential to become a legend, but she knew how precarious that road would be. Injury was a common thing in that world, and she wished such a curse would never befall her daughter.
Star was quiet for a moment, before she reached up and gently laid her hand over hers. "I will." She promised, her gaze determined.
Fumiko smiled. "That's good." She took a deep breath. "That's good."
Even if her daughter didn't believe it herself, Blossom Star had already become a Hero to so many people. She and her friends had shown that even umamusume from the countryside had what it took to challenge Central, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the rest of Japan would be swept into the storm that followed.
And so Yoshida Fumiko only had one wish; a prayer she gave to the Three Goddesses.
Please, no matter what, keep her shooting star safe and happy.
…
Hours later, after her daughter had boarded the shinkansen that would take her and her team to Central, Fumiko was washing the dishes when she heard something fall behind her.
She quickly turned to see what it was, and blinked when she found a…golden cleat?
She tilted her head. "Where did this come from?"
She tried asking around her neighborhood to see if it belonged to someone else, but when she couldn't find its original owner, her husband ended up just displaying it on a small stand, in hopes someone would eventually recognize it when they entered their izakaya.
No one ever did.