On the track, Fujimasa March seemed completely immersed in her own world — a pure, unparalleled joy.
Her True Self mode was gleaming, and her unique skill Ode of the Wind Lv3 was radiating brilliance.
The air was no longer resistance — it had become wings carrying her forward.
The combination of these two forces made her feel as if she wasn't simply accelerating — it was as though the entire world was giving way before her!
Boom—!
Her right foot struck the ground, the impact thundering like a clap of lightning. Mud splashed, and gusts of wind rippled out from her.
Her body became a razor-sharp gale, every muscle and every nerve perfectly resonating with the flowing currents of air.
In this moment, Fujimasa March could no longer hear the noise of the outside world. In her ears, there was only the sound of the wind — her wind, her symphony.
She could feel her legs bursting with strength, her body weightless, her entire being filled with unshakable willpower.
Faster! I can go faster… I can run even faster!!!
The silver-white tracer in her eyes threatened to ignite her entire gaze, yet under her fierce will, it stayed locked in place — shining steadily.
As long as I have this body, these legs… I can go anywhere. And I will never, ever let anyone catch me!
A full-power Front Run!
This was the first time since becoming Kuroha's partnered Uma Musume that Fujimasa March attempted to unleash and wring out the absolute limits of her potential!
Her far-leading figure quickly shrank into a tiny dot in the eyes of the trailing pack.
An inexplicable mix of dread and anger — of being disregarded — welled up inside them.
"She's actually going Front Runner?!" a Pace Chaser exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Stay calm, she'll lose speed!" another urged.
"An 1800m mile race, on a slightly heavy dirt track — running at that speed against the conditions, stamina consumption is several times higher than normal! She can't possibly last until the final stretch!"
The pack behind her wavered for a moment, but the more experienced and level-headed Uma Musume quickly regained composure.
They knew there was no need to give chase — only a fool would match pace with a Front Runner's reckless tempo.
All they needed to do was wait for her arrogance to drag her down, for her speed to collapse on its own.
But in the midst of the chasing group, Seiran Nichirin felt a deep, bone-chilling unease.
…Will she really lose speed?
Her instincts screamed in warning — this was not a mere ordinary Front Run.
That Uma Musume, whose very presence in the tunnel before the race had been so fearsome… there was no way she would fail so easily.
And just as some of the smarter front-group runners steadied themselves — they suddenly sensed pressure from behind.
"What the…?"
Before they could react, several Pace Chasers and Late Surgers had already surged up alongside them!
"What's happening? Why are they accelerating?!"
A few Pace Chasers, trying to maintain their own rhythm, were shocked to find other runners suddenly charging forward beside them, recklessly matching the Front Runner's pace!
The massive gap Fujimasa March had created caused the more restless "rabble" to panic — afraid they wouldn't be able to catch up later, they threw caution to the wind and started sprinting early, foolishly locking themselves into the Front Runner's pace!
Not everyone is smart.
From the back, Seiran Nichirin saw it clearly.
This… was the terrifying pressure of a Front Runner!
A massive gap in the early and mid-phase could unnerve just one runner — and that was enough to topple the entire formation like dominoes.
This was completely different from an ordinary escape-runner.
An ordinary escape-runner only created a small gap — even if someone's rhythm was disrupted, there was still time to recover.
But a Front Runner was different.
Just need to close the gap a little.
Even this single thought would pull the pack's tempo upward!
And until the Front Runner actually burned out, that heightened pace would never stop.
The result — everyone burns out together.
Even those who understood this found themselves unable to resist once caught in the raging current.
Even in central-level races, there had been many times where a Front Runner dragged down the entire field into a group-wide collapse. Let alone in a local race.
For example — even the undefeated double-crown Uma Musume Tokai Teio had suffered multiple defeats thanks to two reckless Front Runners: Free and Easy Shanshin and Mokuyu Sun God.
I must not… accelerate here!
Seiran Nichirin took a deep breath.
As a Late Surger, she hugged the inner rail, letting the others around her flail like headless flies. She waited — biding her time.
She knew: if she made her move now, she would lose any chance to contend with Fujimasa March.
The race passed the halfway mark. Soon, they were past the 1000m sign.
"About to enter the third corner! Still leading is Fujimasa March! Through her early-phase Front Run, she's built up a staggering lead of nearly ten lengths over the pack!"
The commentator's tone wasn't quite as breathless as it had been when she first surged ahead — but the crowd's excitement remained.
"In second is Treasure Mountain! The front group seems restless — is this really okay?"
"In third… Seiran Nichirin is in 16th place. Very composed, not planning to sprint yet?"
By now, Fujimasa March no longer showed the frenzied explosion of the start.
After opening a huge gap, she had steadied her stride, using the middle phase to conserve energy.
The rest of the pack, however, was a different story — having started their drive far too early in the opening battles, they had burned through the energy they should have saved for the final stretch, only to close the gap slightly.
"Ha… haa…"
In the pack, the early leaders were gasping, their fatigue clear on their faces. They knew something was wrong — but now all they could do was cling on with grit.
That Front Runner's stamina must be even worse than ours… just 0.5 more to go and…
That was what they all thought.
But ahead, Fujimasa March drew in a deep breath — the light in her eyes, symbolizing her True Self mode, still unwavering.
She didn't even care about those whose rhythm she had destroyed — they were no longer threats.
As always, there was only one opponent worth paying attention to.
"Seiran Nichirin… you're still not catching up?!"
Her stride remained steady, her voice low, almost to herself.
"…"
From the back, Seiran Nichirin stared at the front pack. Though she was last, the cold glint in her eyes only grew sharper.
Not yet… I must stay calm… calmer still…
(End of Chapter)
Just as the pack was about to exit the third corner, Seiran Nichirin — who had remained silent until now — suddenly narrowed her eyes!
Unlike the others, her beast-like intuition told her — It's now!
She had to start here and now.
If she missed this chance, she would never catch that silver-white storm again!
"Haaahhh—!!"
With a low, restrained roar, the muscles in her thighs swelled, and the explosive power she had stored burst forth like a volcanic eruption!
Ripping through the wind like a bolt of blue lightning, Seiran Nichirin slashed through the chaotic Pace Chaser and Late Surger group from the outside rail, her speed too fast for the naked eye to follow!
Those who had already burned away their final-stretch stamina under the Front Runner's pace…
Those still clinging to old experience, thinking it was too early to make a move…
They all became nothing more than background scenery for her unobstructed charge!
Overtake! Overtake! And overtake again!
Nothing could stop her. Like a small boat pushing upstream against the current, her eyes locked solely on the silver-white figure ahead, growing clearer and clearer.
"Seiran Nichirin is here! She's charging out from the very back of the pack!"
Already the center of attention before the race, her sudden acceleration now nearly made the commentator leap out of his seat.
A Front Runner and a massive late charge — both in the same race!
"13th place… 9th place… 5th place!"
"She's too fast! Seiran Nichirin is unleashing an unmatched late kick at the exit of the third corner, closing straight in on the top three…"
"This is insane — she's still accelerating!"
Those ahead — including Treasure Mountain in second place — felt cold sweat trail down their cheeks as the blue flash thundered toward them.
What is this speed?! And how do you still have so much stamina left at this point?!
It was absurd.
But no one moved to block her in the outer lane.
Their stamina was almost gone — they were surviving on sheer will. To spend more energy intercepting another runner would be suicide for their own victory hopes.
For an Uma Musume, the goal was simple: win for yourself, not stop others.
Thud—!
Heavy, powerful hoofbeats exploded in their ears as the blue-haired figure blasted past them, pulling away.
"Ghhh—!"
The front-group runners squeezed their eyes shut, letting out the wail of the defeated.
At that very moment, Fujimasa March felt the pressure from behind.
Too faint…
She tilted her head slightly, glancing back at the blue flash chasing her.
If that was all the speed Seiran Nichirin had, she'd never pass before the finish.
"I know!"
Staring at the "storm" ahead, Seiran's face twisted with a hint of ferocity, the icy light in her eyes burning even hotter.
If I stay as I am now, I'll never surpass you!
Her mind flashed with overlapping visions —
Her sister's reluctant expression before retirement.
Her trainer's earnest, responsible advice.
The grand, dazzling dream of the Central stage.
Her own relentless daily training.
And all of it… shattered the moment she met that silver-white figure!
Perfect racecraft, flawless technique, unmatched speed and endurance — effortlessly breaking her pride.
A five-length gap — as impossible to cross as a chasm.
Is it going to end here…?
It was like she was running in a world of silent darkness — and ahead, Fujimasa March stood in the only beam of light.
No matter how she pushed forward, she couldn't close the distance.
I can be faster!
I should be faster!
I must…!!!
In her heart, a voiceless roar exploded — the will so strong it lit up the dark world inside her!
And the figure ahead began to move too — silver-white gales wrapping around her, swirling into a storm that could tear the world apart.
"I'll surpass you!!!"
"Hm?"
In the stands, Kuroha's brows suddenly furrowed as his eyes locked on the blue blur chasing Fujimasa March.
She's releasing power… her base potential is opening!
This wasn't a Domain — the highest power of an Uma Musume wasn't something just anyone could touch.
But the posture, the abnormal surge in ability — it reminded him of one nearly identical case.
Sakura Chiyono O.
"Over-True Blooming! She's already done it once before, and now she's doing it again?!"
Kuroha's expression grew serious.
True Blooming came from the blessing of the Three Goddesses.
It lasted only three years — and forcibly triggering it would raise one's ability, but only by drawing from future potential.
Overusing it would shorten the blessing.
By his estimation, Seiran Nichirin had already over-bloomed by at least half a year — maybe more. Her blessing could have no more than one year left.
And now, she was doing it again?
Then how much time would she have left to race? A year? Six months? Or…
Is it worth it?
Kuroha asked this in his heart — and of himself.
In the end, he sighed. Looking back at the track, his gaze carried a complicated mix of emotions.
This was what Uma Musume were — forever chasing victory, shining with the light of dreams.
And that was why the world loved them.
Lowering her head, Seiran Nichirin suddenly changed her exhausted stride. She snapped her head up, exhaling a visible breath.
"Fujimasa!!!"
Her body, which should have been drained, felt newly infused with raw strength — a colossal force surging from her spine into her legs. She stomped down—
Boom—!
Her speed rose again, slicing through the gale, zeroing in on Fujimasa March!
"Seiran Nichirin is even faster! Can she catch Fujimasa March?! The gap's closing — seven lengths! Six lengths! We're in the final straight! The whole last phase belongs to them!"
The commentator's voice trembled with excitement.
On the track, Seiran was a blur, hurtling toward Fujimasa March!
"Three hundred meters!"
Swinging her arms with all her might, she fixed her eyes on the finish line marker ahead — and the ever-closer figure in front.
I can win!
And then — she suddenly felt it.
The figure ahead, wrapped in the storm, had changed.
An invisible aura — the sheer presence and pressure spiked, almost as if she truly stood sky-high, becoming the storm itself!
…!!!
"Seiran Nichirin… you can't see it…"
With a soft sigh, the silver-white tracer in Fujimasa March's eyes — until now held back by her will — finally flared, releasing the light that truly belonged to it!
(End of Chapter)
A little over ten days ago, Fujimasa March and Inari One—who had just grasped the power of a [Domain]—were being taught by Kuroha on how to use it correctly.
"All the way, keep the [Domain] active?"
Inari One's eyes widened in shock, shaking her head and hands frantically:
"No, no, no way! The last time I activated that… uh, 'Passion Mode'? I could only sprint a few hundred meters before I was exhausted! If I kept it on the whole race, I'd drop dead!"
She still remembered when she first awakened the second stage of her [Domain]—Bonfire Fox Call. She had bolted around the track like a dumb fox, burning out before even one lap and nearly collapsing to sleep on the spot, her body turning into snow-white ash.
Fujimasa March, standing nearby, nodded in agreement.
"Even my True Self Mode can't stay active for long—at most, it lasts for about… 600 meters."
The girl thought for a moment before giving that conservative estimate.
Kuroha listened seriously to both of their analyses and nodded.
"Indeed, no matter which stage it is, the [Domain] greatly enhances a Uma Musume's physical attributes and racing ability."
"And naturally, that comes with heavy stamina drain."
After speaking, Kuroha paused, then tapped Fujimasa March lightly on the forehead with a smile.
"But what if you controlled the [Domain] so that it didn't boost your physical stats, and instead kept your mind sharp and calm?"
Fujimasa March's cheeks flushed as she raised a hand to touch the spot Kuroha had tapped, then replayed his words in her head.
After some thought, she shook her head—not because she couldn't picture it, but because it seemed far too difficult to achieve.
The [Domain] was an almost metaphysical power. For someone like her, who hadn't even been in True Blooming for a year and a half, there was simply no way to grasp such a concept yet.
Kuroha chuckled at her reaction and ruffled her cute gray mane.
"No need to overthink it. Whatever you can't do, I'll help you with."
The ash-gray girl nodded and rubbed her head affectionately into her trainer's warm palm, her ponytail swaying behind her.
Smoothing her mane, Kuroha continued:
"Control the [Domain]'s output."
"That way, you won't burn through so much stamina, and you'll improve your mastery over your own technique and your grasp of the race's overall situation."
"You'll keep your latent ability boosted for the whole race, while keeping your mind and rhythm unshaken by outside factors."
"Wow, amazing!" Inari One clapped excitedly, fully playing along.
"So, trainer, what's this skill called?"
"What's it called?"
Kuroha was momentarily stumped by her question. After thinking a moment, he decided to stick to the old naming scheme.
"Let's just keep calling it True Self Mode. Why change it?"
It's not like he could call it True Self Mode—Full Power…
Super Saiyan Horse?
Though, to be fair, some Uma Musume really did look like they were going Super Saiyan when they activated their [Domain]—looking at you, Oguri Cap.
"That name still sounds lame."
"Oh, lame, lame, that's all you ever say!" Kuroha bonked Inari One's head twice with his fist.
"It's staying as is!"
This was the same state Fujimasa March had used before, except without the [Domain]'s stat boosts.
But now, she no longer held herself back. She took a single step forward—and once again entered the supreme realm that had been reached by the racehorses who shaped history!
"Not that it's necessary… but, Seiran Nichirin, I'll give you my all!"
Analyzing her previous True Self Mode performance, even Seiran Nichirin's second burst wouldn't be able to match her pace.
Two lengths—that would be her limit!
However, out of respect for her rival, Fujimasa March chose to respond with her strongest form!
Vmmm—!
In that instant, blazing silver-white tracers lit up her eyes, as though stars were burning in them.
A force far greater than before erupted from her body, and she accelerated again at an impossible speed!
A Front Runner—executing a second burst in the final phase of the race!
And in Seiran Nichirin's gaze, filled with despair and disbelief, the gap between them—already like an uncrossable chasm—suddenly widened!
"She… she's accelerating! Under Seiran Nichirin's pressure, Fujimasa March has accelerated again! Incredible! Unmatched! The gap between them is growing wider!"
"Seiran Nichirin can't catch up!"
The commentator's voice boomed with passion, echoed by the roaring cheers from the stands.
"How… how is this possible?!"
Seiran Nichirin stared at the figure ahead, the one whose final spurt had suddenly eclipsed her own. Her pupils widened sharply.
She had already given it her all…
Already wrung out every last drop of strength… and still… she couldn't catch up?
In the darkness of her mind, the silver-white silhouette she had nearly touched suddenly surged forward, wreathed in storms, merging with the figure flying toward the finish line.
Pata—!
With her long, graceful stride, Fujimasa March crossed the finish line first.
"Fujimasa March wins the Haneda Hai by an overwhelming six lengths!"
In the spotlight of the world, the girl stood tall at the finish line, right hand clenched and raised high!
"OOOOOOOOHHHH—!!!"
The Ōi Racecourse erupted in deafening cheers once again!
"Haa… haa…"
On the track, the commentator's voice echoed on, but Seiran Nichirin could no longer hear it.
Her lungs burned like fire as she clutched her knees, gasping for breath. Her trembling legs could barely hold her; it seemed like she might collapse at any moment.
She had truly spent every ounce of strength, draining herself completely.
The world of Uma Musume was beautiful—but also cruel.
Victory was the eternal theme.
Suddenly, her vision blurred, and a hand reached out toward her.
Her sweat-matted hair stuck to her cheek as she looked up in surprise—only to see Fujimasa March standing before her, offering her hand.
"Go again?"
"…Of course."
Seiran Nichirin was silent for a beat, then her cool expression curved into a fierce grin as she grasped Fujimasa March's hand and forced herself upright.
"You alright?"
Seeing that Seiran Nichirin was only exhausted and hadn't suffered any real injury, Fujimasa March let out a small sigh of relief. On the track, they might be rivals—but off it, they were still classmates and friends.
Seiran Nichirin glanced at the ash-gray mare before her, whose chest barely rose and fell, then compared it to her own ragged, unending gasps. She couldn't help but smile wryly.
"I'll live. But you—pulling off a second acceleration as a Front Runner and still looking fresh? You really are a monster."
Monster?
Hearing those words, Fujimasa March thought back to her trainer's earlier conversation and couldn't help but laugh.
She never thought she'd live to be called a monster.
"Just got lucky." She smiled happily at the thought that crossed her mind.
"Need a hand?"
"…I'd like to say no, but I've really got nothing left."
The two Uma Musume looked at each other, then chuckled softly, supporting each other as they walked toward the paddock tunnel.
(End of Chapter)
After the Haneda Hai victory, Kuroha and Inari One stood at the entrance of the paddock tunnel, waiting for Fujimasa March to return.
When they saw her walking back arm-in-arm with Seiran Nichirin, Kuroha's gaze first met March's with a small nod before shifting to Seiran Nichirin.
Her condition was clearly poor.
Her breathing was still rapid, her face pale. Though her steps were steady, it was obvious she was forcing herself.
"The price of overextending during True Blooming, huh?"
With Body and Breath Perception, Kuroha's eyes took in every detail of the blue-haired mare's state. After a pause, he spoke:
"Your legs show signs of overuse injuries, with multiple combined muscle and tendon strains…"
Kuroha hesitated briefly before continuing.
"If you still want to keep racing, have your trainer take you to the hospital for proper treatment. You should rest for a few months."
Seiran Nichirin froze at his words, looking in surprise at the trainer of her opponent. After a moment, she gave a small nod, gratitude flashing in her eyes.
Before she could respond, a female trainer came running from inside the tunnel. Seeing Seiran Nichirin so weak, she paled in shock and rushed to support her.
"Nichirin! What happened? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Shiro… just… a bit drained."
After Kuroha explained her condition to the trainer, she thanked him repeatedly before leading Seiran Nichirin away toward the hospital.
To be honest, Kuroha didn't quite understand what some of these central trainers were thinking these days.
Their actual training ability was subpar—something well-known.
And yet, they still claimed to value their Uma Musume's health.
Valued… yet still allowed them to undergo long sessions of overloading training unchecked.
Sometimes they didn't even show up during key sessions, merely sending feedback later.
It was baffling.
Seiran Nichirin's injuries weren't just from overextending her True Blooming or from the intensity of the race.
Her grueling training regimen had been a major contributor.
Watching their retreating figures, Kuroha shook his head and let it go.
This wasn't just about individuals—this was a systemic issue with the nation's training culture, and it wasn't something easily solved.
"Let's go."
Kuroha turned to them, raising his fist high.
"Tonight, we're having a feast to celebrate March's first victory in the South Kanto Triple Crown!"
"Oh! Yay!" Inari One matched him, raising her hand enthusiastically.
But when the three returned to their prep room area, they immediately spotted two graceful female figures standing at the door.
One exuded heroic vigor and a commanding aura.
The other radiated elegance and an extraordinary sense of grace.
The horse ears atop their heads and the lively tails behind them made their identities obvious.
"That's…"
Kuroha gazed at the two faces—both familiar and unfamiliar.
Familiar, because he had often seen their galloping figures on TV and in newspapers.
Unfamiliar, because he had never met them in person.
The "Emperor" – Symboli Rudolf.
The "Supercar" – Maruzensky.
The strongest central racehorses of the last generation—and the one before it!
Weren't they supposed to be in the central circuit? What wind blew these two big names here…?
It didn't take Kuroha long to guess the answer—
[Domain].
They must have already been at Ōi Racecourse to watch the event. Then, upon seeing March's race…
In their eyes, in a central circuit where there were only three current [Domain] users—all of whom were retired—
Fujimasa March had now become the eighth to awaken it!
At the door, the two figures noticed the trio approaching and slowly turned around.
Kuroha didn't back down. He adjusted his words slightly before stepping forward.
"Emperor, Maruzensky-san… What brings the two of you here?"
Though he had chosen his words deliberately, there was still genuine surprise in his heart—not at their arrival, but at how young they looked.
If one had to describe them—only the word "girls" would do.
It made sense, though. Even Oguri Cap had only just entered her Classic Year, and Rudolf had retired less than a year and a half ago.
Right now, Symboli Rudolf was not yet the "tofu" of the future—still solid as a rock.
"No need to call it a grand visit…"
Rudolf's lips curved into a small smile as she turned, dressed in casual wear. Her voice was calm, but in her amethyst eyes, starlight swirled with unprecedented majesty.
Powerful.
Commanding.
Beautiful.
That was Kuroha's first impression.
"Pleased to meet you, Trainer Kuroha. I apologize for coming uninvited." Rudolf extended her hand.
"I'm also glad to meet you, 'Emperor' Symboli Rudolf."
…Though, honestly, I'd rather not—at least not right now.
Kuroha returned the handshake briefly before letting go.
Maruzensky smiled warmly from the side.
"Trainer Kuroha~ Won't you invite us in for a chat?"
...
Inside the prep room—
Kuroha, March, and Inari One sat on one side, while Rudolf and Maruzensky sat opposite.
The air was a little tense.
Rudolf was never one for beating around the bush.
"To be frank, we came here specifically after watching March's race."
Her tone wasn't forceful—it carried friendliness and warmth.
"Trainer Kuroha, perhaps you already know…" She paused before continuing.
"Fujimasa March's strength should not be confined to the local circuit."
"The Haneda Hai is already one of the highest-level local races, but March won it without breaking a sweat."
"In other words…" Rudolf's gaze fixed on Kuroha.
"Her ability is at the very top of the domestic level."
Domestic top class—
And these words came from the Emperor herself.
Kuroha froze for a moment before a genuine smile spread across his face.
He had suspected it himself, but hearing such recognition from an authority felt indescribably satisfying.
"So…"
He narrowed his eyes slightly at her.
"Did you come all this way just to praise her, Miss Rudolf?"
"Of course not." Rudolf shook her head.
"I want March to transfer—immediately."
Here we go again, he thought.
Kuroha wasn't about to back down.
Not only had March been raised under his guidance from the start, but given the current standard of Central Tracen's trainers…
There was no way he'd hand her over.
But before he could speak, March spoke up herself.
"Rudolf-senpai, if I transfer… will my trainer be allowed to come with me?"
Rudolf was silent for a moment. Her white crescent-moon bangs swayed slightly before she finally answered:
"No. For the sake of the Uma Musume's future, the Central URA Association enforces strict standards for trainers. No local trainer can transfer without passing the official exams."
"Then I'm not going."
March's reply was firm.
"I will only stay with my trainer."
Having said her piece, March had expected Rudolf to frown or even be upset.
Instead, she and Maruzensky exchanged a glance.
The "old driver" blinked as if to say, See? Told you not to bring it up.
The "moon goddess" gave a helpless look in return, I know, but I had to try.
After that brief silent exchange, Rudolf coughed twice, breaking the serious mood.
"I understand. I'm not here to force you—only to offer you the choice. Since you've refused, we'll leave it at that."
(End of Chapter)
"Apologies—this visit was rather sudden. I hope I haven't disturbed you."
After stating her position, Symboli Rudolf inclined her head slightly in apology toward Kuroha.
He thought the conversation had ended and was about to stand to see them out—when Rudolf suddenly shifted the topic.
"Then, let's discuss the real matter at hand."
…?
Kuroha blinked. That wasn't the real matter?
"Trainer Kuroha."
Her amethyst eyes sharpened.
"I've heard you've been training an as-yet-unbloomed young Uma Musume named Tokai Teio?"
…Teio.
At that, Kuroha immediately understood—this was Rudolf's true reason for coming.
No wonder there had been no news of her visit to Ōi Racecourse.
Normally, as Central Tracen Academy's Student Council President, any inspection Rudolf made would be handled with great formality.
Even if someone of Kuroha's rank wouldn't get an official notice, her arrival would have stirred fans and paparazzi, just like when Oguri Cap's trainer Kitahara had learned of her visit back in Kasamatsu.
But none of that had happened here—meaning this was indeed a personal matter.
"Yes," Kuroha admitted calmly. "I am training Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen."
There was nothing to hide. The day he took those two little girls under his wing, he'd already prepared himself to face both Rudolf and the Mejiro family.
…Though he hadn't expected the Mejiro name to come up here as well. Clearly, Rudolf hadn't known about that second pupil.
"Why would you take the initiative to train two unbloomed Uma Musume?" she asked with a frown.
Kuroha didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned forward slightly and countered:
"Miss Rudolf—do you think there's something wrong with training unbloomed Uma Musume?"
"Of course!"
Her pale-violet pupils flared with emotion, and an imposing pressure built in the depths of her gaze.
"Before True Blooming, an Uma Musume's physical gains are minimal. Worse, her body isn't fully developed—training risks placing an enormous burden on her. As a trainer, you should know this!"
From the side, Maruzensky started to speak, then closed her mouth again with a sigh. Rudolf's gone and made it all serious again.
But Kuroha wasn't swayed by the Emperor's rising aura. He calmly and firmly corrected her:
"It's not training that causes harm—it's overtraining."
Right now, any small gestures or evasions were meaningless before someone like Rudolf. If he wanted any chance of keeping Teio, he had to win this argument outright.
"At present, Tracen's Elementary Division gives unbloomed Uma Musume nothing but cultural lessons—and, at most, slow, even-paced laps."
"In my view, that's because the trainers and instructors can't assess the girls' average physical condition or athletic potential—so they can't design proper, scientific training."
"So, instead of improving themselves, they've retreated again and again, settling for the most half-hearted, bare-minimum program—and even pushing it nationwide under the claim that it's 'for the girls' future.' Don't you think that's laughable?"
The truth was, in this era, trainers in the Far East were abysmal. Calling them "third-rate" was generous.
How many top-class Uma Musume had lost their futures in such hands?
Kuroha's temperament was normally mild, but this time there was steel—and anger—in his tone. It wasn't aimed at Rudolf herself, but at the rigid, archaic URA Association.
"If you want to train unbloomed Uma Musume and enhance their potential, you can—so long as you safeguard their growth and development. Build a proper training system, foster well-rounded ability…"
"Not only will you make good use of those years instead of wasting them, you'll also make their bodies, bones, and tendons more suited to racing—so they can greet their True Blooming in the best form possible!"
"You central trainers can't do it—because you lack the ability. But I can. So why shouldn't I?!"
His words rang like a hammer on steel.
Since arriving in this world, he had studied, trained, and leveled up relentlessly—all for moments like this.
A formless aura spread from him, one that even a top-tier racer like Rudolf couldn't ignore.
"Are you… questioning the Central system?" she asked, her head bowed, voice low.
"Yes," he said bluntly. "But not all of it."
"I acknowledge that its conservatism keeps unbloomed girls from being ruined by incompetent trainers. I acknowledge that its rules—though restrictive—set a baseline that prevents abuse and political interference."
"But those same rules also stifle potential. They favor a one-size-fits-all safety over nurturing prodigies who could shine early."
"I'm not questioning the necessity of the Central system. I'm questioning its rigidity, its outdated policies, and its injustices."
"I'm questioning the culture of 'don't train them at all' just to avoid risk—at the cost of every gifted girl's chance to reach her peak sooner."
When he'd said all he needed to say, the weight in his chest lifted.
He met Rudolf's gaze calmly.
"You're the Emperor, the symbol of Central Tracen. You, of all people, know that a true champion must be willing to challenge tradition and embrace change. Isn't that so?"
The air felt sucked dry, his words lingering in the silence.
Finally, Rudolf's head lifted. The shadow over her face receded, and a wide, unrestrained smile bloomed.
"…Ha… hahahaha~"
The Emperor laughed—not in mockery, but in genuine release.
Change… huh?
She thought back to just days ago, when she'd gone to plead for Oguri Cap's entry into the Triple Crown—only to be denied outright.
Is Central always right? Do I dare to challenge the unknown?
Of course she did. She was Symboli Rudolf.
"I'll handle the Mejiro family," she said lightly, still smiling. "As Student Council President, I have that much authority."
Kuroha was taken aback—he'd expected more debate, not immediate agreement… let alone an offer of help.
"You're wondering why I believe you so easily, aren't you?"
She gave a sly grin—still carrying a trace of girlishness despite her regal air.
"In just over two months, you've trained two Uma Musume to awaken the [Domain]. How could I doubt your ability?"
Her eyes shifted toward Inari One, leaving the lively fox girl utterly bewildered.
"Trainer Kuroha, I've heard your resolve—and your promise," Rudolf said, standing and offering her hand.
"Teio will be in your care."
Kuroha rose as well, gripping her hand with a confident:
"Look forward to it."
Maruzensky regained her big-sisterly warmth, smiling.
"Well then, a happy ending all around~"
"…Which means we should be going now," Rudolf added—then paused oddly.
"Teio is still waiting for me."
Something in her tone made Kuroha pause. In Japanese, 'waiting for me' and 'I'll feed you later' could sound alike…
…Was that supposed to be a pun?
Suddenly, he understood why people often got exasperated with her in the future. The air seemed to chill a little, and everyone shivered.
"Ahem~" Maruzensky broke the awkwardness with two coughs, looping her arm through Rudolf's.
"Let's exchange contact info—it'll make future discussions easier."
"Ah… yes, alright."
Seemingly oblivious to her failed joke, the Emperor let herself be guided, and soon they had all traded contact details.
(End of Chapter)
After everyone exchanged contact information, Kuroha escorted the two big shots to the door.
"Well then, see you next time, Kuroha Trainer~"
Maruzensky gave a playful wink as she passed by Kuroha, then followed Symboli Rudolf out of the preparation room.
Watching the two legendary Uma Musume leave, Kuroha finally let out a sigh of relief and closed the door.
Inside the room, his two girls also collapsed at once, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from their shoulders.
"Phew… haa… truly worthy of the title 'Emperor,' that pressure was something else."
Inari One handled it a bit better than Fujimasa March—after all, she was also a second-step [Domain] Uma Musume—but she still had to wipe the cold sweat from her forehead.
"Speaking of which, that was so like you, Trainer~"
Leaning in close, Inari One teased in a whisper, "Facing two legendary seniors, you still said something that bold and cool!"
Bonk!
"Yowch—!"
Kuroha lightly tapped the girl's head, and she exaggeratedly cried out in mock pain.
"What else could I do? As your trainer, when it's time to fight for something, I have to step up."
The two Uma Musume watched their trainer's busy figure as he packed personal items on the desk, both of them staring absentmindedly, lost in thought.
Before long, Kuroha had everything he needed and slung his satchel over his shoulder.
"Let's go. There's still the Winner's Stage!"
He walked up to Fujimasa March and pulled her to her feet.
The young Classic Year filly had already spent all her energy resisting Symboli Rudolf's invitation earlier, and after just finishing the Haneda Hai, she was still soft and weak all over.
Seeing her like that, Kuroha couldn't help but chuckle, tapping her forehead lightly.
"Once the Winner's Stage is over, when we get back to the dorm, let's have a little home party to celebrate!"
"This is the highest-grade graded race 'Chasing Light' has ever won since we formed, March—you've done us proud!"
Fujimasa March's eyes lit up at his words.
A banquet… celebration…
And also—
'If you win the Haneda Hai, anything you want!'
She subconsciously recalled the promise Kuroha had made to her that night, and her energy spiked, making him wonder what was going through her head.
But those words drew an immediate protest from a certain little fox.
"What do you mean 'highest-grade race'? I won the Tokyo Crown last year, you know!"
The Tokyo Crown was the final jewel of the South Kanto Triple Crown.
Last year, during Inari One's Classic Year, Tatsuko Yuzuhara, for some reason, hadn't let her run the full Triple Crown, only entering her in the final Tokyo Crown.
With Inari One's overwhelming power over the local circuit, as long as the going was good, victory was a given!
"I said our team. Last year, I didn't even have my trainer's license yet."
After calming the sulky little fox, Kuroha smiled.
"Come on, March, get changed—time to meet your Winner's Stage!"
...
Ōi Racetrack — Winner's Stage
The music thundered in everyone's ears, while the cheers of the crowd—no, of the fans—blew the roof off!
Fujimasa March, Seiran Nichirin, and Hōzan strode out with powerful steps, dancing to the beat and brimming with the youth and beauty of maidenhood.
The Haneda Hai was already among the highest-class graded races in the local circuit.
Naturally, the winner would be center stage in the post-race performance.
Although Fujimasa March stood in the C-position, the other two mostly serving as backup dancers, the scene was dazzling nonetheless.
Kuroha couldn't help but admire the stamina of Uma Musume.
For Seiran Nichirin to recover from that drained state—she had been barely able to walk—back to most of her form in just half an hour was astounding.
Still, he could tell her condition hadn't truly improved. To fully recover, she'd need at least two months of rest.
That would likely force her to miss the South Kanto Triple Crown's second leg—the Tokyo Derby—in June.
Even though she wasn't as strong as Fujimasa March, without her, there would be almost no one left in the local circuit who could challenge March in the next two legs.
Watching the girls smile so brightly on stage, Kuroha's heart stirred, and he pulled out his phone to capture the moment.
South Kanto First Crown — Winner's Stage: GET!
When the Winner's Stage was over, Kuroha headed to the Ōi Racetrack's office again.
This was his third visit here.
Like a cash machine, every trip filled his wallet to the brim!
As Ōi's highest-grade race, the Haneda Hai's first prize money surpassed even Inari One's recent Tenno Sho haul—
A full 25 million yen!
With this windfall, plus the victory and securing the training rights to his two fillies, Kuroha was over the moon.
It felt like he'd already reached financial freedom.
"With this much money, I can splurge a little more from now on!"
Until now, Fujimasa March and Inari One's running shoes, horseshoes, and training gear had been high-end but not extravagant.
Now that the budget was bigger, it was time to go full luxury.
When they returned to the Ōi Tracen Academy, Kuroha told the girls to wash up in their dorms first, then come to his room later.
As soon as Inari One got home, she flopped onto her bed and let out a blissful sigh.
"Mmm~ my own bed is still the comfiest!"
She rolled around in her blanket a few times before peeking out and asking,
"March, were you nervous about today's race?"
Fujimasa March, holding her change of clothes and about to enter the bathroom, froze, then answered honestly, "Aside from Seiran Nichirin, not really…"
"…March."
"What?"
"Certified by the great Inari One—you're now the highest-level local-circuit Uma Musume in the country!"
The sound of running water soon filled the room.
Then Fujimasa March's slightly resentful voice drifted out:
"Wasn't that exactly what Symboli Rudolf-senpai said…?"
"Hmph, when I say it, it's just as authoritative!"
A moment later, March stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around her, bathrobe loosely tied at the waist.
Droplets clung to her hair, sliding down her pale collarbone and into the folds of the robe, hinting at her slender yet perfectly balanced figure.
Inari One covered her eyes in mock shock—though her fingers were spread wide—and made a playful "pfft" sound.
"Whoa! March, coming out like that is cheating! Skin so smooth, figure so good… the trainer would get a nosebleed for sure!"
March glanced down at herself, then at Inari One, clearly puzzled. She simply grabbed a towel and began drying her damp hair, stray drops falling to the floor with each motion.
"I just finished showering… Inari One, you're exaggerating."
She moved to the wardrobe to pick out something to wear to the trainer's room.
"I am not exaggerating!"
Inari One bounced off the bed, circled March like a curious little fox, and said, "This is the lethal charm of a peerless young maiden! That blockhead trainer might not bleed on the spot, but his heart will definitely be pounding! Right? Right?"
She poked March playfully in the side, smirking.
March froze for a second, the tips of her ears flushing pink.
Trainer… blockhead?
She recalled moments with Kuroha—especially those times when she had certain "naughty" thoughts and he still responded to her proactively.
The corners of her lips curved upward.
"He wouldn't… And Inari One, you'd better go shower—it's getting late."
"Yes, yes~"
Dragging out her reply, Inari One finally stopped teasing her and started digging through her own wardrobe.
As she turned away, she muttered with a pout, "Still a blockhead…"
(End of Chapter)
After Inari One finished washing up and getting ready, she quickly slipped into her casual clothes.
She and Fujimasa March gave each other a once-over, then both nodded.
"Alright—looks good!"
"Let's go!!"
They left the dorm together.
Crossing the quiet academy paths, they soon arrived at Kuroha's dorm room.
But instead of the lights being on as expected, the interior was pitch-dark.
Fujimasa March knocked softly and called out,
"Trainer, we're here. Are you inside?"
"I'm here—come in!"
After a few seconds of silence, Kuroha's voice came from inside.
The two girls exchanged a knowing glance, took a deep breath, and gently pushed the door open.
The instant the door cracked open—
Bang! Bang!
The darkness was shattered by the sudden glow of warm yellow lights, and along with it came not silence, but—
A cascade of colorful paper confetti burst like tiny fireworks, fluttering down to cover their hair and shoulders.
The table had been moved to the center of the room, covered with a dazzling array of dishes. The air was thick with mouthwatering aromas.
Kuroha stood by the door, holding the just-fired party popper in his hand, his smile warmer than the lights themselves.
"Surprise!"
His voice carried a joyful laugh. "You've all worked hard! Tonight's our victory celebration—dig in!"
The two Uma Musume blinked, momentarily stunned at the elaborate setup, before instinctively stepping inside, glancing around.
The walls were lined with colorful paper chains, and a dozen balloons drifted from the ceiling.
The decorations were simple, but the atmosphere was festive—and the spread of food was impossibly rich.
"Trainer, you made all this in just one hour?"
Inari One looked up in disbelief, her little horse ears twitching rhythmically.
Kuroha paused, rubbing his cheek with his thumb thoughtfully. "Was it too simple?"
"Mmm… maybe the ingredients weren't enough, next time I'll—"
Fwoom!
Before he could finish, a slender figure pressed into his chest.
Looking down, he saw Fujimasa March with her head buried against him, arms wrapped around his waist, saying nothing.
But from Inari One's 1.39-meter perspective, it was easy to spot the faint blush on March's cheeks and the shy, excited gleam in her eyes.
The little twin-tailed fox felt as if she'd taken a thousand points of damage—critical hit!
Kuroha, feeling the warmth of the gray-haired girl in his arms, froze for a moment before gently patting her head.
"Congratulations, March~"
"…It's all thanks to you, Trainer," she murmured into his chest.
"Alright, then let's—Hey! Inari One, why are you already eating?!"
At the table, Inari One was already venting her "grievance" through her appetite, picking up a piece of fried tofu and popping it into her mouth.
"A banquet's for eating!" she declared righteously.
"Trainer, try this."
"Hey! That special carrot steak was for me!"
"Here, March!"
Soon the room was filled with playful banter as Fujimasa March's victory banquet rolled on in lively fashion.
...
Time slipped by unnoticed.
By 2 a.m., Kuroha gave his head a small shake—on his left leg, Inari One was resting; on his right shoulder, Fujimasa March was leaning, both girls sound asleep.
They hadn't been drinking—there had only been juice tonight—but they'd played themselves into exhaustion.
March had come straight from the race and Winner's Stage already tired; the post-banquet fun had been too much for her.
As for Inari One, her body clock had simply run out.
Feeling the warm weight on his shoulder and leg, Kuroha gave a helpless smile.
Inari One's sleeping posture was restless, her head shifting around, while March's breathing was steady, her long lashes fluttering faintly under the moonlight.
What now?
He couldn't exactly wake them and send them back to their dorms.
"…There's a guest room. I'll set up two fresh futons and let them stay here tonight."
Ōi Tracen Academy's trainer dorms were generously equipped—the standard was a three-bedroom, one-living-room setup.
Carefully laying the two girls on the sofa, Kuroha prepared the guest room and then gently carried them in one by one.
"Don't you kick the blankets off, Inari," he whispered, switching off the light and softly closing the door.
But as soon as the door clicked shut, Inari One's eyes cracked open. Sleepy, but not as deep in slumber as she'd seemed.
"I won't kick them," she muttered before yawning, curling into the blanket, and drifting back off.
"You owe me one, March."
Carrying Fujimasa March into the room, Kuroha set her down on the bed with care, tucking her in.
"Good night, March," he said softly, smiling before turning to leave—
Snap!
A gentle tug on his wrist stopped him. Turning back, he saw March's eyes open, her gaze unsteady, her ears drooping with nervousness.
"…Trainer, I'm feeling a bit unwell… could you give me another massage?"
Her clear voice was hesitant, tinged with shyness.
"Not feeling well?"
He instinctively activated [Body and Breath Perception]. After scanning her condition, he fell silent for a moment.
"…Are you really not feeling well, March?"
"…Trainer, I…"
She shrank deeper under the blanket, face burning red, her mind a complete mess.
The Trainer's looking at me. What do I do? Should I say it? How?
Her mind flashed through memories—his gentle invitation back in Kasamatsu, the days they'd trained side by side, the way he focused before a race, the smile when they won.
'Trainer's a blockhead!' Inari One's teasing echoed in her mind.
Was he really a blockhead?
March lifted her head to meet his eyes—familiar, starry, and deep—and her courage ignited.
"I…"
Clenching her teeth, she suddenly sat up, her face fully crimson.
"I like you, Trainer! I want to be with you!"
There—it was out!
Before she could even close her eyes to brace for rejection, she felt a warm embrace wrap around her, and a gentle voice said—
"I like you too, March."
She froze, and in the next moment, the sharpness in her expression melted into softness. She curled up quietly against him.
Kuroha, feeling the girl's calm breathing, let out a breath of relief.
No one could have guessed what he'd seen when he'd activated [Body and Breath Perception] just now.
If her request for a "reward" back in the Keihin Cup was a "1," then just now was a "10."
Not shocking enough to startle him—but definitely surprising.
Still, he would never ignore the feelings of one of his girls.
"Feeling better now?" he asked, ruffling her hair.
Glancing at his still-active skill's readout—
Wait… 20?! What the—
"Trainer… didn't you say if I won the Haneda Hai, I could get what I wanted?"
Her voice grew smaller with every word, occasionally peeking up at his face.
"…Well."
His eyes drifted to his system panel:
[Stamina: G1-Class] (Possesses stamina comparable to a G1-entry-level Uma Musume)
…He should be able to handle it, right?
That night, neither of them slept.
(End of Chapter)
For the first time in a while, Kuroha's biological clock failed to wake him up on time.
When he finally cracked open his sleepy eyes and tried to sit up, he immediately sensed something was off.
Not only was he not lying in his own bed, but beneath the blanket there was a large patch of soft, warm smoothness pressed against his chest.
Then last night's memories came flooding back, and he rubbed his temple with a groan.
He couldn't remember exactly how late they'd gone on, but one thing was clear—his G1-class stamina was definitely not just for show.
Modern medical conclusions aside, the physical abilities of Uma Musume far exceeded those of humans.
To put it bluntly: with a human body, he had kept up with a Uma Musume. Kuroha might well have been the first in history to manage that.
Looking down, he saw Fujimasa March still asleep in his arms.
Her silver-white hair gleamed in the morning sun, falling in slight disarray across her cheeks, partly hiding skin as pale as fine porcelain.
She seemed to be in a deep sleep, nestled in the crook of his arm, light as a feather.
Her small horse ears twitched faintly from time to time, as if she were dreaming something pleasant.
Kuroha simply watched her quietly, hardly daring to move for fear of waking her.
After a while, perhaps sensing the weight of his gaze, March's lashes fluttered before slowly lifting.
Her crimson eyes were at first a little hazy with lingering sleep, but when she registered Kuroha's face just inches away—and their undeniably intimate position—the haze evaporated, replaced by the rush of last night's memories.
"Ah—!"
Her ears shot upright, her blush surging from her neck to the tips like a kettle steaming over.
But after a moment, she relaxed instead, pressing herself even closer.
"Good morning… Trainer," she murmured, looking up with only her shining red eyes and small nose visible above the blanket.
"Good morning, March."
His voice was back to its usual gentle tone, soothing and warm. "It's still early—want to sleep a bit longer? Or… maybe eat something?"
She shook her head lightly against him, still burrowed in place.
"…Not sleeping," came her muffled reply, before she added even more softly,
"…Trainer smells nice…"
"Just ran a race, today's my rest day. I don't want to move. Wherever you are, that's where I am…"
Her voice was languid, and she nuzzled into him as if she might drift back to sleep.
Kuroha, knowing what she was thinking, couldn't resist teasing,
"Inari's probably awake by now, March."
At that, the warmth in his arms stiffened for a moment, but soon her muffled voice returned. "…Don't care."
"That won't do."
He chuckled, shaking his head and gently patting her hair.
"Alright, up you get. There'll be plenty of time later. I still need to get you a leave of absence from the academy."
Reluctantly, she sat up, the blanket slipping away to reveal a great expanse of "holy light." (Insert To Love Ru moments censored by light beams xD)
Once they dressed, the two stepped out into the hall.
The place was just as messy as after the banquet last night—Inari One was nowhere to be seen.
A thought struck Kuroha, and he headed for her guest room.
Click!
Inside, the little twin-tailed fox was sprawled out in a less-than-graceful sleep.
The blanket was kicked aside, an unknown droplet glistened at the corner of her mouth, and her lips smacked now and then as she dreamed of who-knew-what.
Shaking his head, Kuroha closed the door quietly.
March had been peeking in as well, and when their eyes met, she instantly hid the smirk on her lips—though the tips of her ears still glowed red.
"Looks like we worried for nothing," Kuroha said with a quiet laugh.
They returned to the cluttered living room, banquet remnants still plain to see—scattered streamers, empty drink cans by the table, jackets tossed over the sofa, and half-eaten plates of food.
"What a mess. Let's clean this up before the dorm turns into a rat's nest."
"Got it, Trainer!"
March followed behind to help, her movements brisk and capable.
Watching her work, Kuroha once again marveled at Uma Musume recovery rates.
Seiran Nichirin had gone from barely able to walk to singing and dancing on stage in just half an hour.
And March—after several hours of being "ridden" last night—looked even more energetic this morning!
Opening his system panel, he glanced at the "G1-Class Stamina" stat.
…Brother, how long before I can't keep up with you anymore?
That was when he noticed a system notification—apparently from last night, overlooked in the middle of all the "horseplay."
[Achievement Completed: The Beginning of the Galloping Road] (Spend one night with a member of your team)
Reward: Shop Function Upgrade — More items now available.
An achievement?
He vaguely remembered that his system had an achievement panel—used only once before, when recruiting March, which had unlocked the skill [Professor of Curvature].
It had been silent ever since. This was only the second time.
Shaking his head, he went into the shop.
Good news: there were indeed new items.
Bad news: there were only two…
After scanning the store from top to bottom, he confirmed it.
[Panacea] — 100 pt. Unlocks the recipe for Panacea.
A perfect cure that eliminates all ailments in an Uma Musume's body, restoring full health.
Must know the individual's precise condition and use immediately—only works for that state at that time.
"So it has to be paired with [Body and Breath Perception]… and made on the spot, huh?"
The limitations were many, but the effect was priceless.
He always trained March and Inari One carefully, adjusting their regimens to their real-time condition and never overburdening them. He measured hoof weights, specialized strength sessions, and always ended with massage to relieve even micro muscle strain.
Still, Uma Musume bodies endured extreme strain in pursuit of speed—there was always the risk of hidden injury.
With this Panacea recipe, the risk could be countered—if only under strict conditions.
"I did study some medicine and pharmacology alongside nutrition back then… though I'm a bit rusty now."
He set the dishes back in the cupboard, thinking he'd need to study again—not just for the Central Trainer exam, but now also to master this skill.
The second item was trickier:
[Fortifying Tonic] — 100 pt. Human use only. Unlocks recipe.
A traditional herbal formula: one bowl a day for enhanced health, strengthened core, mental focus, and several-fold training gains.
Must know the individual's exact condition and tailor it—effective only for that person.
"…What's this supposed to mean?"
He looked from the listing to his "G1-Class Stamina" stat and fell into thought.
One was an endless path of learning. The other—endless training.
The system had really laid it out for him.
"Trainer?"
March's voice pulled him back from the system menu. She was holding a stack of freshly washed plates, smiling as she handed them over.
"…Thanks, March."
Smiling back, he put them away.
Soon, the once-chaotic living room was spotless again.
Glancing at March beside him, he replayed the past few days' plans and last night's events in his mind.
There was so much to do.
"Buy a car, get new training equipment, set up new plans for March and Inari One… Oh, and for Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen, too…"
"Prepare for summer training camp, study for the Central Trainer exam, brush up on medicine and pharmacology…"
He let out a quiet sigh. "Why do I feel like my to-do list just keeps growing?"
(End of Chapter)
After thinking it over for some time, Kuroha decided not to buy either the [Panacea] or the [Fortifying Tonic] from the updated shop.
As for the Panacea—
First, he simply didn't need it right now.
With [Body and Breath Perception] and [Massage] in hand, the chances of his girls getting injured during training were practically zero.
Second, his PT points… were far too few.
After yesterday's Haneda Hai, he had exactly 100 points left to his name—a miserably small sum.
On top of that, he'd need time to refresh his medical and pharmaceutical knowledge before he could even make proper use of the Panacea. For now, it was better to save the points in case of an emergency later.
As for the Fortifying Tonic…
After last night's several hours of "workout" with Fujimasa March, he'd realized—she couldn't outlast him at all.
For the first time, he'd felt it in the most direct, visceral way:
His stamina was absurd.
By his estimate, his [G1-entry-level Stamina] was equivalent to the peak condition of a Central G1 graded-race Uma Musume in her Senior Year.
If converted to raw numbers, it would be around 1,000 points.
Clenching his fist, he smiled with quiet confidence.
So what if a Uma Musume's physique was three times stronger than a human's?
This was the result of over a decade of relentless daily training.
Don't underestimate humans.
Forget little March—even if Inari One joined in, they still wouldn't beat him.
With his thoughts in order, Kuroha told March to rest at home with Inari One—he was giving them both the day off.
It was the perfect chance for him to go on a big shopping trip.
"I want to go with you, Trainer… My body's fine…"
In front of him now, March had completely transformed from her usual cool, heroic self into the role of a soft, delicate girlfriend.
Kuroha reached out, gently cupped her cheek, and gave it a light pinch.
"Be good. Rest at home and wait for me to come back."
Looking into those clear eyes and the strikingly handsome face of her trainer, March's resistance crumbled. After stammering for a bit, she finally nodded reluctantly.
Bidding her goodbye, Kuroha left the training room alone.
"Let's take care of their leave requests first."
Glancing up at the sky, he decided to handle the easy task before the rest.
It was class time at Ōi Tracen Academy, and the tree-lined paths were nearly empty.
Heavy clouds drifted overhead, blotting out the sun and adding a faint chill to the air. Fortunately, there was no sign of rain.
He stopped by the administrative office to put in the leave requests for March and Inari One.
For a trainer, getting time off approved for their Uma Musume was effortless.
Tracen's academic program was long, but a Uma Musume's competitive prime lasted only three to four years—sometimes less.
So the school prioritized training progress over regular coursework.
Kuroha didn't even have to fill out a slip. A brief mention to the staff member was enough for them to nod in approval without a single question.
"Take care, Trainer Kuroha."
He returned the polite farewell with a nod and stepped back out into the corridor.
Just as he was leaving, a noisy chatter spilled out from the large room next door.
Looking over, he saw the sign:
Ōi Tracen — Trainer Office
It was a wide space where the academy's local trainers usually gathered to chat when they had nothing better to do.
Kuroha rarely visited—most of his time was spent in his personal trainer's room, studying, researching, or planning training and race schedules for his team.
But as he passed the door this time, it swung open and a figure in a kimono stormed out—nearly colliding with him.
Thud!
They both stopped short, and Kuroha found himself staring at none other than Tatsuko Yuzuhara.
"Kuroha? What are you doing here?"
Normally, she'd never expect to see him in this office, and she looked genuinely surprised.
"I was just in the admin office," he explained with a smile, gesturing over his shoulder. "Got March and Inari a day off. March won the Haneda Hai yesterday, so we had a celebration… they stayed up too late."
He felt a bit sheepish saying it—Inari's late night was her own doing, but March's… well, he certainly bore part of the responsibility.
In this world, unlike in the games of his previous life, it was rare—even for a trainer—to marry their assigned Uma Musume.
The reason was simple: the well-known medical fact that a Uma Musume's physique was roughly three times that of a human's.
This wasn't some fantasy setting where trainers had superhuman physiques capable of wrestling microwaves in half or chasing down their girls in a sprint until they collapsed from exhaustion.
At least in the world Kuroha now lived in, no trainer could match their own Uma Musume physically—except him.
"Celebration?"
Tatsuko immediately put her hands on her hips in mock outrage. "Why didn't you invite your big sis Tatsuko? I'd have made it a party to remember!"
"Haha, I didn't want to trouble you."
"That won't do! Next time, you have to invite me, got it?"
Unable to fend off her enthusiasm, Kuroha agreed with a nod.
"That's better!"
She grinned, then suddenly turned back toward the office and waved.
"Taro! Come out here! This is that Trainer Kuroha I told you about!"
Taro?
Kuroha turned just in time to see a man, a little older than himself, stride out.
The moment he saw Kuroha, his eyes lit up, and he hurried forward to give a perfect ninety-degree bow.
"Trainer Kuroha, sir! My name is Taro Yuzuhara. I just got hired as a local trainer today!"
"…Yuzuhara? Then you're—"
"This is my son," Tatsuko said proudly, patting him on the back. "He just came back from studying abroad in the United States. Took him a while to pass his trainer's license."
Then she glanced at Kuroha and pulled a wry face.
"Of course, he's not a prodigy like you. He's thirty now."
"Mom…"
Taro gave her a weary look.
"In public, Tatsuko Yuzuhara came across as composed and refined. In private, she was far more warm and uninhibited.
As Kuroha listened to the unfamiliar name, a thought occurred to him.
In the original timeline, this man—Taro Yuzuhara—would have been Inari One's trainer. Tatsuko would have handed her over to her son after he returned from the US.
But because Kuroha had arrived early, she had entrusted Inari One to him instead.
A named character from the "original" world… interesting. (TL: I don't know if the name is correct)
"I've heard so much about you from my mother," Taro said warmly. "Graduating early from university, getting your trainer's license, and in just two months—producing a Haneda Hai champion!"
The flattery was so direct that Kuroha wasn't sure how to respond.
When he asked why Taro called him "senpai" despite being older, Taro answered seriously,
"Those with skill deserve respect. Your ability and achievements far surpass mine—and besides… you started the job before me."
Fair enough.
Then Taro's eyes sharpened slightly, as if something had just clicked.
"Kuroha-senpai… do you know a Uma Musume named Obey Your Master? She's a current competitor in the US."
Obey Your Master?
Kuroha hadn't expected to hear that name from him, but he nodded.
"I know her. When she came to Tokyo on vacation, she stayed near Ōi Tracen Academy."
(End of Chapter)
"My teacher is Miss Obey Your Master's trainer back in the United States!"
Kuroha was surprised, though he faintly remembered something like that.
In the original timeline, when Obey Your Master came to Japan for her second Japan Cup, her trainer had chatted with Taro Yuzuhara—a lively, sharp-eyed old man.
That race had been brutal—Obey Your Master, Inari One, Oguri Cap—all of them were crushed by the dark horse from New Zealand: the Commoner Queen.
Ah… Amei…
Kuroha's mind flashed back to the blonde gyaru bidding him farewell not long ago, full of confidence that she'd be back.
Taro hadn't noticed his expression and continued:
"Miss Obey Your Master applied to my teacher for entry into the Japan Cup later this year. She said that if she won, she wanted to stay here—"
He paused for a beat, then added, "—and join a team at Ōi Tracen Academy led by a trainer named Kuroha!"
…She just said that out loud? That's bold…
"What did your teacher think of that?" Kuroha asked.
If one of your own Uma Musume suddenly applied to transfer to another trainer in another country, most people would feel uncomfortable.
"My teacher fully supports it!"
That was an answer Kuroha hadn't expected.
"He's retiring in a few years, and his team doesn't have many Uma Musume left," Taro explained.
"And…" He glanced at Kuroha before continuing, "Miss Obey Your Master's results in the US… aren't great."
That was putting it mildly—she was far from impressive at the moment.
"So, he hopes she can find the path that suits her best. He even said she doesn't need to win the Japan Cup—he can help her transfer now if she wants."
"…I see."
Kuroha murmured the words to himself, a faint trace of something complicated in his tone.
This old man… he's genuine.
Was this what happened to trainers when they grew old?
Half-ready to "let go" of everything, yet still willing to go out of their way to look after their girls—nonchalant on the surface, but stepping up whenever a problem arose.
Roppira Ginjiro in the Central, this old man in the US… both the same.
"…Taro."
Kuroha chose his words carefully, voice gentle: "Thank you for telling me. I'll keep an eye on her races. As for joining my team… I'll respect Amei's wishes."
He would never make such a promise lightly. Taking on any Uma Musume meant accepting a responsibility. But once he gave his word, he would never go back on it.
Taro nodded, a glimmer of respect in his otherwise stern expression.
"Of course, Kuroha-senpai. I'll pass your message on to my teacher."
With the leave requests handled and news of Obey Your Master in hand, Kuroha was satisfied with this trip. He waved with a smile.
"Well then, Tatsuko, Taro, I'll be going."
"Alright—take care!"
"And Kuroha, you'd better invite me next time you throw a victory party!" Tatsuko added.
"…Got it, Tatsuko," he said with a wry smile.
Meeting the mother and son had been a coincidence, but Kuroha's main task for the day was still to purchase necessary living supplies and training equipment.
"First, buy a car."
Hailing a taxi, he started planning his shopping list en route.
A car was a must—not something flashy, but something big, steady, and reliable. That way, whether taking his girls to races or out for leisure, there'd be no more relying on taxis or trains.
Before long, he arrived at one of Tokyo's top-rated "5S" dealerships—different from the standard 4S shops for regular customers, this one specialized in vehicles for the horse-girl industry.
Sprint — Speed Guaranteed.
Their vehicles met every requirement for Uma Musume travel.
After a thorough introduction from the salesperson, Kuroha chose a large MPV similar to the "Toyota Alphard" of his past life—the Triumph 5th Generation.
A Tokyo car company's latest model, named after the Arc de Triomphe.
The price tag: 5 million yen—gone from his wallet in a heartbeat.
Ignoring the salesperson's chatter, he paid on the spot, took the keys, and drove straight to the shopping district.
Yes—Kuroha did have a license. Back when he'd turned 18, while waiting for his local trainer license exam results, he'd gotten it alongside.
"Next: new training running shoes, horseshoes, and weights for March and Inari."
"…Inari's hoof weights should be increased a bit—she always finishes training full of energy."
He parked in a nearby lot and walked into the shopping street.
On a massive outdoor screen, advertisements and news played on rotation. Among them were stage lives from Uma Musume idols—one platinum-haired girl's image appeared most often, fronting both ads and live footage.
Gold City…
Known as "the once-in-a-century beauty."
Kuroha tilted his head at the screen—not in awe of her looks, but at the thought that in all his time here, he still hadn't met many of the Uma Musume he knew from the game in his past life.
Shaking his head, he focused back on his errands.
At the Penguin Sports Shop — Uma Musume Exclusive, the same store he'd visited with his two girls before, the clerk greeted him warmly. Recognizing him, she came right over.
Kuroha handed her a pre-written list.
"Here, I'll take all of these."
As she gathered the items, his eyes fell on her phone lying nearby, screen lit with a news article:
[Daily Broadcast Kyoto Special] Kasamatsu Transfer Student Oguri Cap — Can the Local Legend Continue the Miracle?
Below was a photo of Oguri in full sprint, her silver-gray hair catching the sunlight, eyes sharp as a blade, her presence radiating through the screen.
"Oh, you follow Oguri too?" the clerk said with a smile. "She's so popular right now! Came up from the local circuit, took two Central graded crowns in a row—like a manga heroine! All our customers love her."
"…Yeah," Kuroha murmured. "She's impressive."
Inside, though, his thoughts were heavier.
Oguri Cap might not yet be the nationally beloved "White-Haired Monster" she'd become, but her storm was already forming.
Especially now, in this "gray age" of Central racing with no clear star, her local origins, defiance of the established order, and overwhelming strength struck deep into the public's yearning for a hero.
After paying and leaving with his bags of specialized gear, the early summer breeze brushed his face.
But his mood was heavier than when he'd arrived.
The tide of the era was already surging, and he and his team would have to find their place in its center.
"…First, we have to join the Central."
For the first time, he truly longed for the trainer's exam to come sooner—because as a local trainer, too many doors remained closed.
(End of Chapter)