Chapter 35: This Is Embarrassing

Chapter 35: This Is Embarrassing

Scarlet let out a quiet sigh.

“Yeah… He won so many races in the regional circuits, only to be turned away because of those ridiculous rules.”

“But if that hadn’t happened,” she added with a smile, “I probably wouldn’t have met him either.”

“What’s got you bringing this up all of a sudden?” she asked.

Vodka shrugged.

“Just feeling a bit sentimental, that’s all.”

“Yasui-san said he watches from the front row, right? Usually, rookies don’t even dare go near that spot. It’s considered a place only veteran trainers have the ‘right’ to stand.”

“That’s such a pointless rule, honestly. I don’t get how they come up with this stuff.”

“Anyway, I kinda like this guy. So…”

She picked up her lunch tray with a smirk and stood.

“Let’s go save him a spot.”

By the time Makoto made it from the prep room to the viewing stands, he figured it’d take some effort to find a decent spot.

At every racecourse, the very front viewing area was standing-only—no seats. Spots were first-come, first-served.

And among trainers, there was an unspoken rule: the best viewing angles were “reserved” for senior trainers out of respect.

It wasn’t just a matter of seating either—this same seniority system affected everything: from getting a private office, to access permissions, to getting assigned dorms closer to the academy.

Newcomers like Makoto had none of that. That’s why he’d been renting a place far from the campus.

He understood the system… but didn’t particularly care.

Still, since this was a later event in the day, there were more spectators than usual. The best front-row spots were already packed.

After searching for a bit and still coming up empty, he was just about to give up—when his phone suddenly rang. 

It was Daiwa Scarlet.

“Yasui-san, we can see you. Walk a bit further ahead… Do you see us?”

Following her directions, Makoto quickly spotted the two Umamusume he’d had lunch with earlier. He blinked in surprise, then smiled in quiet gratitude as he realized they had saved him a spot.

“Thanks a lot. If it weren’t for you two, I probably would’ve ended up stuck way in the back.”

Thanking them, Makoto opened his shoulder bag and pulled out a pair of binoculars, a stopwatch, and a tablet.

Scarlet didn’t even blink—she was clearly used to it. But Vodka looked a little surprised.

“You’re gonna work while watching the race?” she asked.

“Yeah. The Shining Star Series is full of surprises. A lot of times, the raw data in your hand doesn’t match your gut feeling.”

Makoto slid a Bluetooth earpiece into his ear as he explained:

“I like to record my impressions while watching live, then compare them with the race data afterward. It helps correct for human bias.”

“That’s something my father taught me.”

He gave a slight smile.

“He used to say that their generation of trainers relied on instinct and experience. But our generation? We need to combine every tool we’ve got to discover training methods that truly help each individual Umamusume.”

Now it was Scarlet’s turn to be surprised, her eyes widening slightly.

“Your dad… was a trainer too?” she asked.

“A regional one,” Makoto replied. “He never made it to the central circuits.”

“But most of what I know—my methods, my philosophy—is something that he taught me.”

He paused briefly, then added, “My mom taught me a lot too. She used to be a racer at a regional track.”

Scarlet and Vodka exchanged glances, clearly taken aback.

But there was also something warmer in their expressions now—like a quiet thread of familiarity had formed.

“That explains a lot,” Vodka said, brushing her index finger under her nose like a tough guy trying to hide his feelings.

“No wonder you’re so good at this, Yasui-san.”

She gave a sideways glance and grinned.

“But I bet it’s not just thanks to your parents—you must be putting in a ton of effort too… Mind if I call you ‘Yasui-kun’?”

“Go ahead,” he replied easily. “I’m not really picky about how people address me.”

Makoto had just opened his mouth to continue speaking when a wave of cheers suddenly erupted from the crowd. The loudspeakers kicked in, announcing the next race with clarity and energy.

“Up next—the seventh race of the day is about to begin!”

The announcer’s bright, lively voice echoed across the venue, immediately capturing everyone’s attention. She began introducing one of the race’s participants.

“No time to waste—our top fan favorite has just entered the ring“

“In her three races so far, she’s earned a first, a second, and a fourth place finish.“

“Moving up from 1600m turf to 2000m hasn’t hurt her one bit—her 33.5-second final surge in the last race proves just how strong her closing kick is.“

“And that Umamusume is… Crusher Rays!”

The cheers grew even louder.

On the massive screen directly across from the grandstand, a long-haired girl in athletic shorts and a short-sleeved workout tee stepped out confidently onto the runway of the paddock stage, a training jacket casually draped over her shoulders.

She raised one arm high, waved at the crowd, then—without missing a beat—grabbed her jacket and flung it off with dramatic flair.

After finishing her formal pose and bowing, she scooped up the jacket she’d tossed and walked back behind the stage curtain.

This was the standard appearance performance held before every race.

Makoto had seen plenty of them while studying past races—he’d even watched one last time.

But for some reason, this time he suddenly had a very specific curiosity.

He glanced sideways.

Beside him, the two Umamusume were deep in discussion, analyzing the stats with clear interest.

“1:36.3, 1:38.2, 1:34.8... Her performances aren’t exactly consistent,” Scarlet noted.

“That’s probably why her trainer’s trying to move her from mile to medium,” Vodka replied.

“Maybe… But her final splits are legit. 33.2, 34.3, 33.5… Honestly, better than mine when I debuted.”

“Well, it has been years—of course the rookies are improving.”

As she said this, Scarlet’s gaze shifted and caught Makoto looking at them.

“Yasui-kun, is something on your mind?” she asked with a soft smile. “I can call you that too, right?”

“Of course, call me whatever you like. As for me…”

Makoto hesitated, then shook his head and pretended to focus on his tablet.

“Nothing, really. I suddenly forgot what I was going to ask. So I guess it wasn’t important.”

Truthfully, he had wanted to ask:

“When you girls toss your jackets during the appearance… do you ever feel embarrassed picking them up afterward?”

But then he imagined—what if they were embarrassed?

Then asking would only make it worse.

So he played it off.

And after a few moments of acting like he was reviewing data, he actually did start working—though part of his mind had already begun to anticipate Kitasan’s entrance.

Finally, the announcer called her name.

“She made a stunning debut win with a beautiful late-race surge.“

“This will be her second appearance—and also her trainer’s second official race.“

“Compared to veteran pairs, this rookie duo exudes a presence that holds its own.“

“Let’s welcome—Kitasan Black!“

“We can’t wait to see what this bright, spirited girl has in store for us today!”

Makoto instinctively looked up and smiled.

—That smile froze a moment later.

Beside him, Vodka started to say, “Oh, Kita-chan’s finally out—”

But the sentence died halfway, and her face went stiff.

Scarlet turned her head as if she didn’t recognize the girl on the giant screen, pretending instead to admire the sky.

A ripple of laughter began to spread across the stands.

“Wait—why did she zip up her jacket in the paddock?”

“Is it stuck? She looks like she’s really struggling to get it off…”

“Hahaha! This is gold! What’s her name again? I need to follow this girl—she’s hilarious!”

Overhearing the whispers and chuckles around them—and spotting Vodka subtly turning away and whistling like nothing had happened—Makoto glanced left and right.

If only there was a hole in the ground to crawl into.

Because there she was—his own Umamusume—red-faced and flustered, tugging hopelessly at her jammed zipper in the middle of her spotlight moment.

This is embarrassing.

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