On the fourth day after the Tenno Sho (Autumn)—and the third day since Fumino had sent Super Creek to Kuroha for rest and recovery—
Early morning, in a single-occupancy dorm room for Trainers.
The TV was replaying highlights on the sports channel.
"...Without a doubt, 'Chasing the Light,' Inari One, displayed overwhelming strength!"
"Trainer Kuroha truly lived up to his new status as a senior Trainer. Every girl under his banner keeps giving us surprises!"
On screen, two commentators volleyed their analysis of the G1 classic.
"Right. Speaking of surprises—although Super Creek fell just short and finished second, she and Inari—together—both broke the Tenno Sho (Autumn) course record!"
"And considering she effortlessly set a new record in a G2 earlier, even as runner-up, her power is absolutely not to be underestimated!"
"Exactly! And her Trainer is none other than the much-discussed 'in-school prodigy'—Nase Fumino—who drew attention for bold misjudgments but also for her poised, striking demeanor."
"One wonders, after this race, has she finally reached the legendary height of her father—Nase Hideto...?"
Before the TV, a violet-haired beauty in formal wear was fastening her cuffs with meticulous care.
Hearing the commentators, she paused. A faint, complicated light flashed through those usually cool eyes.
She said nothing—just finished dressing and tightened her watch.
Once everything was in place, she picked up the remote and turned the TV off, shutting those praises and debates alike into the screen's darkness.
At the entryway, Fumino looked back at the empty dorm, her gaze a shade overcast.
"I'm heading out."
Leaving behind a sentence that hardly seemed addressed to anyone, she opened the door and stepped into the morning sun.
"Looks like it'll be a fine day..."
With a shoulder bag on, Fumino lifted her face into the light.
Should she go to the training grounds first to guide the others? Or stop by Kuroha's office to check on Super Creek?
She was mapping out her morning.
But the moment she stepped out of the dorm building, her steps halted.
Parked by the entrance was a sober black sedan, idling quietly.
Beside it stood an elderly butler in a perfect tailcoat; upon seeing her, he bowed deeply.
"Tanaka...-san?" Fumino blinked, caught off guard.
The butler called Tanaka wore a practiced, gentle smile. "Long time no see, Lady Fumino. We've been following your admirable work at Central Tracen."
At that, Fumino's cool brows lifted by a hair. "Have you? Thank you for the concern."
Her tone betrayed nothing.
Since joining Tracen as a Trainer, she had deliberately drawn a line between herself and the family, never leaning on their resources.
Super Creek, the ace of her team, was the fruit of mutual trust and choice—discovered and cultivated by her own hands.
So this "we've been watching," to her ear, carried not warmth but distance.
"Allow me to drive you to the academy."
Just then, Butler Tanaka spoke again and opened the rear door with courtly flourish.
The instant the door swung wide, a stern, cold figure framed itself—and Fumino's pupils tightened.
Inside the car, a middle-aged man sat ramrod straight, his hawk-like eyes razor-sharp.
Still smiling politely, Tanaka intoned, "Because today, your father will be accompanying you."
"..."
Father.
The word thudded against Fumino's heart like a hammer of iron.
The man in the car—Nase Hideto—was a legend among Trainers.
Like Oguri Cap's Trainer, Ginjirou Musaka, his name lived in textbooks and halls of honor—a name that also flowed in her blood.
Right now, he was like a silent iceberg, exuding a suffocating pressure.
For a heartbeat, Fumino's body went rigid; even her blood felt like it froze.
"Good morning."
Hideto met his daughter's eyes for a brief second and spoke, calm as a level sea.
"..."
Fumino stared for a beat, chose not to answer, and slipped into the car without a word.
Tanaka closed the door, sealing the cabin off from the world outside.
Silence pressed in—only the steady hum of the engine remained.
Fumino kept her gaze forward, watching the scenery unspool in the window. Yet the massive presence beside her pricked constantly at the edge of her sight.
He didn't look at her, nor at the view. His eyes were half-lidded, as if dozing—but Fumino knew he was awake, and evaluating her.
The quiet felt eerie.
As the sedan was about to turn onto the academy's main road, Butler Tanaka, who'd been focused on the wheel, tried to break the ice.
"Lady Fumino, we watched the Tenno Sho (Autumn). What a marvelous race, wasn't it, sir?"
He tossed Hideto a pointed glance in the mirror.
Those hawk eyes flicked toward his daughter. He offered the bare minimum:
"Indeed..."
But that attempt at warmth was a spark dropped on dry powder.
Fumino lifted her eyes, cool voice edged with undisguised irony.
"Losing still counts as marvelous?"
The cabin's temperature plunged.
Hideto was silent for a heartbeat, as if choosing his words, then replied in the same unruffled tone:
"The result matters, but the process still deserves attention."
He opened his eyes fully—no reproach in them, only the pure, top-level appraisal of a first-class Trainer.
"Super Creek's performance was on par with—if not greater than—many past Tenno Sho champions."
"Her racecraft, her power, and the will she displayed at the end were flawless. The reason you didn't win"—he paused—"was simply that the one named Inari was stronger."
He added something Fumino didn't see coming:
"Even if I had been in your place, I wouldn't have seen a way to win that day. You did extremely well."
...
Silence.
Fumino's pupils widened slightly, then her gaze cooled; her fingers, folded on her lap, clenched.
What do you mean, "Even if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't have found a way"?
Isn't the subtext that your ability towers over mine?
If you couldn't win, then of course I couldn't?
That's not praise—that's condescension dressed up as grace!
"?"
Hideto sensed the layered look from his daughter and tilted his head inwardly.
Wasn't that a compliment?
By saying even he couldn't have turned it, he meant to frame her valiant loss as honorable—surely the highest affirmation of her skill.
So why... did she look even angrier?
A thought that had dogged him over a decade resurfaced.
Daughters... are so hard to read...
The silence lay over them like a slab of ice, crushing breath from the lungs.
Fumino felt a tight ache in her chest. She forced her eyes away, but that pressure from the bloodline seemed to stalk her.
At last, as if to shatter the suffocation—or to interrogate something—she rasped out:
"...When did you return to Japan?"
"Early this year, I suppose." Hideto's expression didn't ripple, as if stating a fact unrelated to himself. "I plan to stay in Central for a while."
Fumino blinked.
Early this year?
But it was November.
Meaning—he'd been back almost a year?!
A fire with no name flared up inside her. She ground out the words through her teeth. "And you never thought to tell me?"
Hideto looked at his daughter; genuine puzzlement flickered in those eagle eyes.
"...I'm telling you now, aren't I?"
"..."
A vein ticked on Fumino's smooth temple.
She really wanted to punch this man.
Apparently oblivious to his daughter's storming emotions, Hideto changed the topic on his own. "More importantly—since when have you been living alone? Are you managing fine?"
That line lit the buried explosives in Fumino's chest.
After a dead, airless pause, she spoke, voice glacial:
"...What does that have to do with you?!"
"You left us and flew overseas alone—and now you have the face to play the father?"
"This trip back—you're here for work anyway, aren't you?"
She snapped her head around, fire blazing in those cool eyes, pinning him with a razor-edged stare as she spat each word:
"—Trainer Nase Hideto?!"
Hideto held her gaze for a moment.
"You won't call me 'dad' anymore?"
This man... does he have zero self-awareness?
Fumino trembled with fury. She wrenched her face back to the window; scenery streaked past as she said, ice-cold:
"I don't consider you my dad."
At that, a trace of change finally touched the severe man's face.
But it wasn't hurt—or sadness.
It was... purer confusion.
A thought drifted through his mind:
So she's hit her rebellious phase, after all... How should I handle this?
Just as Fumino felt the anger about to swallow her whole, he seemed to remember something, and spoke again.
This time, he asked what he had really come to ask on this "pickup" today:
"Fumino, are you close with Trainer Kuroha?"
Fumino gave a sharp, derisive snort. "Why? Do you have a girl on your team who's about to face one of his?"
Hideto nodded honestly, tone even. "Yes. We had a race before, and... lost, rather badly."
(End of Chapter)
[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Zaelum"]
[Every 500 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]