At the Rayami Café near Ritto Tracen Academy, Nishikino Cross, who had just taken her seat, suddenly pressed her palms together, bowed her head, and cut off Takeda Makoto before he could order.
"—Hold on, let me speak first. I'm sorry!"
"Eh?"
Takeda Makoto, menu in hand, blinked, unsure what Nishikino Cross was apologizing for.
"You went out of your way to chase after me and talk, yet I said such awful things to you. I… I'm truly sorry."
Nishikino Cross dipped her head slightly, eyes lowered, as though addressing the coffee table itself.
"…I couldn't hold back. Everyone thinks it's fine if I just place somewhere… because my running style is so stupid."
Sure enough, the very first item on tomorrow's training list will be fixing that style, Takeda thought, keeping the remark to himself.
"—Because of the way I look, people always underestimate me."
"This build is a handicap; becoming a pro Horse Girl is a pipe-dream. Be realistic, pick something you can actually do, aim for 'good enough'—that's what they keep telling me."
"So I wanted to prove it in the Selection Race… prove that I'm a Horse Girl who can win."
"But… you saw what happened."
"I ran… and lost pathetically… and got looked down on all over again."
Takeda Makoto propped his elbows on the table, hiding his expression.
In truth, he'd only just arrived at Ritto; he hadn't seen the Selection Race at all—he'd barely set foot on the track.
He guessed Nishikino Cross must have mistaken him for a Trainer who'd watched her race and then chased after her.
In other words, she'd completely forgotten what the poor sap she'd crashed into while fleeing the track even looked like.
Unaware of Takeda's small reaction, Nishikino Cross continued.
"—I walked through Ritto Academy's gates carrying a dream I absolutely must fulfill; I refuse to be someone who just runs for the sake of running."
She lifted her head. Takeda saw his own reflection in her sky-blue eyes—and the fire blazing behind them.
In that instant, her aura returned to the same intensity she'd shown behind the school building when she'd demanded whether he was a rookie Trainer.
"I will win! I'll keep winning, become wind and lightning that shakes the world, turn it upside down, and leave every doubter speechless!"
"Yeah. You can absolutely do it."
Takeda Makoto answered calmly, already knowing what Tamamo Cross would achieve.
But that airy tone sounded like dismissive mockery to Nishikino Cross, who knew none of that future.
She smacked the table, unable to contain herself.
"You did watch my last race, didn't you?! I ran so pathetically I didn't even place!?"
A waitress glanced over in alarm; Takeda waved to signal everything was fine while wondering to himself just how disastrous a race he had missed.
After apologizing to the waitress, Nishikino Cross calmed a little and spoke slowly.
"I ran terribly… yet I keep blustering with my mouth… and still have no idea what to do next…"
Leaving aside memories of past-life horses and in-game Horse Girls, in these few minutes Takeda had already sensed something in her.
A quality shared by the greatest Horse Girls who would rule Nebula—precisely the secret that would let her transcend physical limits and achieve greatness.
What Takeda said next would set aside all past recollections; he spoke purely as a rookie Trainer giving his view of an unknown, unraced Horse Girl.
Only then could their resonance be equal.
He organized his thoughts and told her, with conviction, about the gift she herself hadn't noticed.
"Every victor in sport possesses an extraordinary hunger for victory; that hunger is the talent that keeps them climbing."
"The regret you showed—stronger than anyone's—and your craving to win…"
"That is surely a gift more essential than any physical advantage."
"It's the talent required to become Nebula's top Horse Girl, crowned with triumph."
Confidence blazed in Takeda's words, so persuasive that Nishikino Cross felt a flicker of embarrassment.
"…What are you on about?"
"You've seen me run once, exchanged a few words, and you're this sure? You're… weird."
"Still, since you've said it, you'd better take responsibility."
"Eh? You mean…?"
"Then make me win!"
"…Honestly, on my own I feel like I'm at a dead end."
"But I still want to win, no matter what…!"
"So right now… I'm betting everything on you.
Even if it's Local, I don't care! I'll test what you said—and your resolve."
In return, you test whether I can truly become a champion Horse Girl!"
That was exactly why Takeda had come. He drew a contract from his briefcase, set it on the table and slid it toward her.
"Looking forward to working with you, Tamamo Cross. Brace yourself—starting tomorrow, every day's training will leave you exhausted."
Nishikino Cross took the contract but didn't open it; instead she handed it straight back.
"Sounds perfect to me. But… Trainer, you've got it wrong—my name isn't Tamamo Cross, it's Nishikino Cross."
"Uh…"
Takeda Makoto: (sweat-drop)
Crap. Forgot Tamamo Cross was her stage name; her real name is Nishikino Cross?
"Sorry, must've mixed them up. I've been researching a lot of Horse Girls lately—ha ha ha."
He scratched his head, fabricating a harmless lie, and took the contract back.
The contract printed for Tamamo Cross would have to be re-typed.
"Mixed them up?"
Uh-oh… Nishikino Cross's hesitant pause made Takeda's heart skip.
Could she be the type with a sharp nose for lies, already sniffing the scent of one?
She followed up with a grin: "You're really working hard, Trainer. Just how many profiles did you read to get names confused?"
Fortunately her focus was unexpected, and Takeda exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow.
A July summer day really is too hot; even café air-conditioning can't stop cold sweats.
For some reason Nishikino Cross looked happier now. Still feeling guilty, Takeda raised the menu, hoping ordering would calm him.
In the bright, spacious campus café, small groups of Horse Girls chatted and laughed over life's little stories.
The waitresses, students from Ritto working part-time, welcomed every customer with sweet smiles.
"Ding-a-ling."
The café's glass door swung open and the bell chimed, alerting the staff that a new customer had arrived.
The newcomer brought the summer-evening heat with her, but she also looked like a dazzling golden light flooding the whole shop.
"Gold City-senpai!"
A stunned waitress blurted the name, and every head snapped toward the drop-dead-gorgeous girl in the doorway.
Platinum-blond hair cascaded loosely down her back, a midriff-baring top hugged her tall, lithe frame, and her face outshone any pop idol; beneath cut-off denim shorts, long, snow-white legs were boldly on display—pure supermodel material.
Wherever she went, she owned every gaze in the room.
"Wow, it's really her—my idol!" squealed Horse Girl A, stars in her eyes.
"Why is she back? Didn't she sign with Sakura Club and head to Central?" wondered Horse Girl B behind thick glasses.
"Exactly—this year's Ritto record-setter: a seventy-eight-million-yen signing bonus!"
Like the star of a one-woman show, Gold City sauntered through the stares and pulled Nishikino Cross's little head into an affectionate noogie.
"Hey, Cross, long time no see—miss me?"
"—City! Let go, what are you doing?!" Nishikino thrashed.
"Phew… why are you even here?" the petite girl panted when she finally broke free.
"I flew in from Tokyo just to see you, but I hear some rookie Trainer ran off with you."
Gold City rested a hand on Nishikino's shoulder, her sapphire eyes drifting to Takeda Makoto.
She hadn't found Nishikino on campus; instead she'd bumped into Akikawa Hirono from the club, and that happy accident had pointed her here.
"Takeda Makoto, Hanshin Trainer—if you ever want to join our club, you'd be welcome."
He offered his hand, introduced himself, and answered with easy humor.
He hadn't realized Gold City was Tamamo Cross's classmate from Ritto—and apparently a close one.
Horse Girls were rare beauties to begin with, but this blonde bombshell's looks were legendary.
Back when this was just a game it hadn't hit him; now, one handshake had his pulse racing.
Gold City was an SSR-class Horse Girl; if Tamamo's connection could reel her in, he'd be over the moon.
But that was only a daydream.
Cinderella was still a Local, amateur-level club—nowhere near attractive enough.
Gold City laughed behind her hand. "Haha, Cross, your Trainer's funny. Still, you're really going Local? Thought you promised to outshine me."
"—City, butt out! We're not done; go wait over there." Nishikino waved her off like a big brother shooing a kid sister.
"Come on, Cross, I'm only here for a bit. Stay in Ritto a few more days—maybe another scout will show up."
Takeda read her intent: every word dripped doubt about a rookie Trainer, a not-so-subtle attempt to poach his girl.
No way—bombshell or not, she wasn't stealing his white lightning.
So he delivered a polite dismissal of his own.
"Sorry, Miss Gold City, but Nishikino and I still have details to hammer out. I'll need a little more of her time."
"Eek… if you go Local, Cross, we might not see each other for ages."
Gold City brushed his words aside.
"Hey, it's not like Hanshin's the end of the world…"
Tamamo Cross, caught between her clingy friend and her manners, squirmed.
Takeda wouldn't let his Horse Girl squirm any longer; he cut in, slightly rude.
"Miss Gold City, no need for long good-byes. Next year Nishikino enters Central—make sure you're ready so your friend doesn't leave you behind."
The barbed words carried bite; ignored once too often, he was losing patience.
Gold City's eyes narrowed in mild surprise. She still hadn't sat down, looking down at the upright Takeda with unmistakable hauteur.
"Big words, Trainer Takeda. If you really make it to Central, I'll consider joining your club."
"Then it's a date—see you next year."
Her lovely eyes narrowed further as she studied him.
She couldn't tell where this young Trainer's confidence came from.
It sounded like youthful bravado—yet her intuition said otherwise.
He hadn't flinched, hadn't raised his voice, hadn't sounded like he was whistling in the dark.
He stated it as fact, as casually as naming what was for dinner.
Maybe he really could do it—he'd spotted Cross's talent, after all.
Satisfied, Gold City said her good-byes and left.
Inside the air-conditioned café, Takeda was drenched in sweat.
His shirt clung to his back; the whole encounter had been a roller-coaster.
He considered moving Nishikino somewhere farther from campus before another interruption showed up.
First, though, drinks—after half an hour of chaos they still hadn't ordered, and he felt bad.
He waved over a waitress: a tall Horse Girl with a long brown ponytail.
Her figure made even the bombshell Gold City look modest; the café uniform strained at the seams.
Familiar—way too familiar.
Takeda nearly lost his composure when he saw her face.
Tiny Ritto really was hiding dragons and tigers.
The name tag perched above those world-class peaks read: Kikura Creek.
Once she registered as a pro Horse Girl, that plain name would become her track name—Super Creek.
One of the Heisei-era Big Three, the first love of legend jockey Yutaka Take.
She smiled sweetly. "What can I get for you?"
"One Super Creek, to go!"
"Huh? We don't have that on the menu."
"Sorry—Nishikino, you pick something."
Flustered, Takeda shoved the menu at her to escape that innocent gaze.
What on earth did I say? I'm so embarrassed!
Nishikino Cross tilted her head for a moment, then handed the menu back. "Ahh, I'm not really thirsty, so I'll pass."
Takeda Makoto slid the menu toward her again. "It's fine—order whatever you like. Consider it my gift for meeting you."
Nishikino Cross still didn't take the menu. After pushing it back, she waved her hands and laughed. "Ah… then I'll just have a glass of water."
Watching the menu shuttle back and forth, Super Creek's gaze flicked between the two of them.
The tug-of-war on the table had her small head spinning. Even the famously even-tempered Super Creek was struggling to keep her smile in place.
"Pardon me, but we don't serve water here. Have you decided what to order?"
Takeda Makoto inwardly praised the soft-spoken waitress for her patience and decided not to torment her any longer.
Ignoring whether Nishikino actually wanted anything, he ordered the two most expensive, sweet-sounding drinks.
Surely no girl could dislike sweet beverages.
"Two Deluxe Honey-Yuzu Specials, please."
"Very well, sir. Please wait a moment."
The waitress practically fled.
Super Creek hadn't reached graduation yet; she was probably a second-year, working part-time in the campus café.
There was no need to poach her now. He'd leave a good first impression and recruit her next year.
As Super Creek walked away, Takeda Makoto kept his gaze from lingering to avoid looking suspicious.
"Hold on! You just ordered without asking!"
"Well, when something nice happens, you celebrate with something tasty. Indulge a lonely Trainer, won't you?"
"I see. I'm pretty happy today myself—let's celebrate together."
The moment she finished acting composed, Nishikino Cross turned into a greedy little kitten.
"Heh-heh-heh… just a deluxe honey drink? I'm diving in!"
Watching her dance in delight, Takeda Makoto felt like he was watching a kid pretending to be an adult—utterly amusing.
"Two Deluxe Honey-Yuzu Specials—enjoy."
The waitress quickly set down two pale-yellow drinks, each topped with a fresh yuzu slice.
"Ooh, they're here! Looks delicious—let me try!"
Nishikino Cross's eyes sparkled. She reached out eagerly, as if the girl who'd claimed she wasn't thirsty five minutes ago had been someone else entirely.
"Mmm?! This is amazing—the sweet honey and tart yuzu blend perfectly. One big sip floods your tongue with sweet-sour flavor that vanishes in an instant, leaving a light yuzu finish. Honey and yuzu are a match made in heaven; I could down a gallon!"
"Goodness, this is dangerous! Now I get why you wanted to celebrate."
Suddenly the elated Nishikino Cross looked a little forlorn.
"I wish Mom, Dad, and the little ones could try this too…"
She let go of the straw she'd been biting and blushed.
"Trainer-san… how big will my signing bonus be?"
She fidgeted, realizing how odd it sounded to ask about money after already agreeing to join.
Blame the weird atmosphere—she'd blurted it out without thinking.
Looking back, all their grand talk had been mortifying.
Takeda Makoto thought it over. He knew Tamamo Cross wasn't greedy—just desperate.
In real racing history, Tamamo Cross was raised by an indebted farm and became its only hope of paying off loans.
In the world of Uma Musume, her family was poor: her mother chronically ill, younger siblings at home.
Yet her parents had left Hokkaido for Kansai so their eldest daughter could receive top-tier training.
Now, about to graduate, she longed to ease her family's burden.
In the real world, Tamamo Cross and two other horses sold for a total of five million yen. He wouldn't short-change her. "How does five million sound?"
That was his absolute limit.
He'd just mortgaged his stable for ten million; five million was half his net worth. The rest had to cover training—he didn't even know if it would be enough.
Was five million a lot?
Not really—it was bottom-tier.
Talented Uma Musume often started in the tens of millions; famous debutantes commanded hundreds of millions.
Was five million too little?
Not at all—no one throws away five million unless they believe in the girl's future.
It only sounded small for a Ritto graduate.
"Five million?!"
Nishikino Cross looked stunned; it was the highest figure she'd ever heard.
Most Ritto graduates would scoff, but as the saying goes, a swift horse is common—finding a true Trainer is rare.
She'd rather find a Trainer who believed in her than chase a bigger bonus.
After nearly half an hour in the café, the handsome newcomer Trainer Takeda Makoto had impressed her.
Yet he was still a rookie without Central credentials; she'd expected no bonus at all. Five million far exceeded her hopes.
Seeing the white-haired girl silent, Takeda thought she wanted more and confessed,
"I know you're worth more, but five million is everything I can give—I need funds left for training."
Everything?
Looking at his anxious face, Nishikino Cross felt a warm surge of happiness.
A Trainer staking everything on an unproven rookie showed absolute trust.
Affection +10. If Takeda had game stats, he'd see the number float above her head.
"Five million is plenty! Trainer-san, I'll train hard and win everything!"