"Lost? When was that?"
Fumino blinked.
Hearing that man say the four words "lost badly" was shocking enough by itself.
"When I returned early this year, I met a girl who had just—more or less—joined the same cohort," Hideto said evenly. "Mm, I believe she's in the same year as your Super Creek, so I signed her."
"I still had personal matters then—constantly shuttling around the country, sometimes abroad—so my assistant Trainer watched over her day to day."
He paused before adding, "Of course, I drafted her training plan myself off the actual data."
"But after watching the Yasuda Kinen, I felt that even if I'd been by her side the whole time, the outcome wouldn't have changed much."
Yasuda Kinen?
Fumino knew the Chasing Light team's entries like the back of her hand. The moment she heard "Yasuda Kinen," the image that bloomed in her mind was that girl as radiant as cherry blossoms—Sakura Chiyono O.
Who took second in that race again?
An instant later, she remembered.
Aotake Memory—the hot-blooded girl with the "Dream" headband who sometimes ran in Super Creek's wake.
Back then Fumino had casually sketched out Aotake's rough numbers: faster short-burst acceleration than Super Creek, but a large stamina gap. At 1600 m, even a top-three finish would be uncertain; add three or four hundred meters and Super Creek could beat her at will. A textbook Mile specialist.
Why did she immediately think of Aotake, instead of anyone else?
Much as Fumino disliked admitting anything to her father, even she couldn't deny it—Hideto was a Trainer so strong he was nearly a legend. Over thirty years in Central; every intake under him had produced graded winners. Across Tracen, aside from Ginjirou Musaka, almost no one could match that depth of experience and results.
A Trainer like that wouldn't sign a mediocre girl.
Unaware of his daughter's shifting mood, Hideto slipped into recollection. His tone stayed calm, but there was a trace of admiration he himself might not have noticed:
"Sakura Chiyono O... truly worthy of a Derby winner."
"In all my years—counting overseas as well—her accomplishments at the Mile and even Medium distances already place her in the first echelon. Remarkable."
His gaze drifted slightly, as if replaying the Yasuda Kinen.
Before that day, he had never imagined a girl could win a top-class 1600 m G1 by nearly three lengths over the best male milers.
Right after the finish, Aotake had called him on video.
The girl who was usually all fire and spark—whose horse-ears were a lively banner of personality—now drooped so low they looked weightless.
"I'm sorry, Trainer... I lost..."
On screen, Aotake scratched her head, mustering a smile, but the dejection bled through her voice no matter what.
"She's so much stronger than me... Chiyono O really is a true Derby girl."
"And also..."
She tilted her head, frowning in honest confusion. "During the race, I kept feeling that Chiyono O had... something strange that I don't."
In the car, a flash of cold light passed through Hideto's indifferent eyes.
"Something strange"?
A normal Trainer might be baffled by a vague line like that.
But a Trainer at his level? He knew exactly what it was.
The same threshold once reached by the "Emperor," Symboli Rudolf—a realm touched only by the vanishingly few who stand atop their era.
She had awakened that era-shaping power—Domain.
And now, in Aotake's next race—the Mile Championship—she would collide head-on with another Chasing Light girl: Fujimasa March.
Even the so-called "current strongest," the Grey Monster Oguri Cap, would be there.
...As for Oguri Cap's dossier, he could probe Ginjirou Musaka for a read, and there were two years of Central footage to mine.
But Fujimasa March...
He and that newly minted senior Trainer, Kuroha, had no acquaintance at all.
And the girl's Central races were frustratingly few. Beyond three G1s—Osaka Hai, Teio Sho, and Sprinters Stakes—there were only two G2s. She'd even scratched once for a toothache. As for her regional tapes, Hideto had watched them: the locals were so out-classed by Fujimasa that the footage was borderline useless as reference.
Fumino cut a sidelong glance at her father, who'd fallen deep into thought, and spoke with visible annoyance.
"Don't ask me. I don't have any inside on Chasing Light. Pre-race, I only studied my own partner."
"...I see."
Hideto sat quiet for a breath, then simply nodded and didn't press.
By then, the familiar gates of Central Tracen Academy came into view.
This short shared ride had finally reached its end.
The car eased to the curb. Before Butler Tanaka could get out, Fumino had already pushed the door open and stepped down in one smooth motion.
"Safe travels, Lady Fumino," Tanaka called gently from the driver's seat.
Some of the frost melted from her face. She turned back and dipped her head. "Thank you, Tanaka-san."
"Tanaka, take us round to the rear lot," Hideto said, as placid as ever.
"Understood, sir."
Fumino angled her body away, not sparing the man in the backseat another look. She stood and watched the sedan roll forward and slip out of sight around the bend.
Only then did she press a palm to her forehead and let out a long sigh.
"What did he pick me up for... now my mood's a mess..."
She muttered, gave her head a brisk shake, and tried to scatter the lingering irritation.
"Whatever. I'll check on Creek first."
She set off toward the trainers' room used by the non-rostered staff.
"...And I'll fill Kuroha in while I'm at it."
(End of Chapter)
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