Chapter 5

"2 minutes 38 seconds... If you subtract 7 seconds, it's 2 minutes 31 seconds... It's not faster, it's slower."

A public athletic field with a dedicated running track for Uma Musume. A cool breeze soothed her sweat-drenched body. After completing a full sprint, Tamamo let out a deep sigh as she looked at the stopped time on the stopwatch. No matter how hard she ran, the time on the stopwatch wouldn't go down. Even today, she had run so many times she couldn't remember how many, but her time showed no signs of improving.

"Also, timing me is really annoying."

I left the stopwatch I was holding where I unpacked. Running and timing myself makes me miss the days when I was on a team, when I could run without thinking. Back then, the coach would take care of the small details for me, even if I just stood still. It hasn't been that long since I can call it that. From timing, to race registration, to shoe management, to analyzing riding techniques. There's a lot to do alone, but that's how bad a racer becomes without a team. In fact, they're not that different from amateurs.

"You're a monster. You're not quite there yet, but with proper training, you could win the G1 championship, or even more."

"..„. Why did you refuse?"

Judging by the fact that he just got his trainer's license, it must be a new team. It still doesn't seem like a well-organized team, but at least someone has finally recognized his worth, despite his insignificant achievements. Although I turned down the scout offer for fear of being a burden, looking back, I still regret it. What if I had simply nodded steelily? The regret I should have buried keeps surfacing. But even turning back time wouldn't change my decision. The man said I was a racer destined for Class G1, but he clearly overestimated his mistake. As I've said countless times, I know my own target level better than anyone.

Uma Musume will never make it to First Class. Even making it to Second Class is daunting, and staying in Third Class is daunting. If it were just a matter of talent, I would have pushed myself, but...

"Well, I have no intention of giving up being a racer," she mutters to herself, as if trying to console herself. Her debt-strapped father worked hard, and her mother, who passed away when she was young, wanted to see her compete. So, despite her obvious limitations, she persists. That was all she could do for them, pathetic and incompetent as she was.

"Should I buy okonomiyaki to go back?"

Maybe it's because my father is from Kansai, and I was also born and raised there. As a child, I used to eat that local food. Of course, I still eat it sometimes when I remember. I still have the prize money I received for placing third in the last Conditional Race, even though it's not much. Besides, a few days ago I had the bad luck of having my car break down, so it wouldn't hurt to buy some local food to console myself.

Anyway, the important thing now isn't the food, but the training. After putting okonomiyaki out of my mind, I did a few more laps of the track. Only when the sun was beginning to set did Tamamo gather her things and leave the track.

"What... what is this?"

The glass door at the entrance was broken, and the glass of the display case was shattered. Tables and chairs were strewn across the floor, and the tofu that was supposed to be sold today was scattered in pieces. Tamamo, who had arrived at her father's tofu shop just in time for work, found the interior a complete mess.

Suddenly, the bag of okonomiyaki she was holding fell from her hand.

"Oh, you're here?"

"Father..."

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asked a man leaning on a red plastic chair in the corner of the shop. His eyes were droopy and his hair was slightly disheveled. Tamamo's gaze met her father's, and she unconsciously closed her open mouth. His face, as serene as ever, had a tinge of exhaustion. How long had it been since her mother's funeral, since she had seen a face like that?

"Those children... those children are like that?"

"Well, I guess."

The voice, so hollow it could almost demoralize the listener, echoed in Tamamo's ears. But instead of calming down, her anger flared even more, as if she'd been doused in gasoline. Tamamo clenched her fists and turned around.

"Where are you going so late at night? Are you going to find those people and beat them up?"

"Then I have to arrest you! How can you just sit there and do nothing! Are you some kind of thug? If you don't want to get caught by the police, you'd better shut up."

"I don't care if I get caught! Even if the police catch me, as long as it breaks a bone or two..."

"You idiot!"

A cheerful sound. Tamamo absentmindedly stroked her numb cheek. Her father, who had suddenly woken up, was looking at her with a heavy gaze.

"You're still young. You have so many more days to live than you've had in the past. And yet you're already thinking about ruining your life?"

-But! Isn't that guy who swindled everything the bad guy? My father never did anything wrong! He's a victim too! I was a swindler, but I was also a CEO like that guy. I ran the business. It's not like I'm the only one to blame.

-Even so!

-Even so, that doesn't work. As the CEO, I was in a position where I had to take responsibility, even if I didn't like it.

Their gazes met in the frigid atmosphere. Tamamo looked into brown eyes that showed small emotional ups and downs. And her father looked into eyes the same color as his late wife's. He wanted to scream, but his lips naturally trembled. He let out a hesitant breath, overwhelmed by frustration. His emotions were boiling, ready to burst, but his heart wouldn't speak and his voice wouldn't form sentences. His clenched fists trembled and his nails dug into his flesh enough to draw blood. The night breeze that filtered through the perforated windows cooled the Volga heat, but the warmth in her chest remained unchanged. Instead, every time she met those calm eyes, she felt like stoking the fire.

Finally, it was her father who spoke first in the long, awkward silence.

"I'm sorry I beat you up for no reason. I'll clean this up, so you can come back."

"I don't know. Why do I keep putting up with it? Why do I have to give those people money? No matter how hard I try, I can't figure it out, Dad."

"Tamamo."

As she turned the door and swung it open, a scream, almost a plea, echoed behind her. But as if that desperate call had gone unheard, Tamamo ran out of the ruined shop.