Chapter 2: Proposals and Scouts Are Two Sides of the Same Coin

“Mithialx is slowing down! That’s a brutal reverse thrust!”

“Haa… haa… khh—!”

It was my second selection race.

I’d gotten off to a great start—clean, solid, perfect.

No one ahead of me. No one beside me.

No terrifying auras from other Tern Uma Musume pressing down on me, no nerve-wracking duels to deal with.

But that peace didn’t last long.

As the race hit the halfway mark, I heard heavy breathing behind me—other Tern Uma Musume were closing in fast.

When I glanced back, the lead I’d built—nine full lengths, at least—had shrunk to barely three.

“D-damn it!”

I forced every last ounce of strength into my legs, trying to accelerate again.

But I’d planned this as a pure runaway from the start. My stamina was already burned out. No matter how much I pushed, I couldn’t go any faster.

Before I knew it, the pack swallowed me whole.

“Ah—!”

Once you’re caught by the pack, it’s over in seconds.

My pace collapsed, and I was tossed out the back like a leaf in a storm.

The result was inevitable.

The problem was my aptitude.

I was probably best suited for sprints or mile races at most. Mid-distance wasn’t impossible—but barely within reach.

And even then, my bonus wasn’t in stamina. If anything, it leaned toward intelligence.

So what happens when a Tern Uma Musume like that tries to go full-speed in a stamina-heavy runaway?

Of course she crashes and burns—like a jet engine choking midair.

Just before the final corner, my stamina bottomed out. My speed nosedived, and my position plummeted.

Once again, I crossed the finish line dead last—same as before.

I’d thought I could last longer this time since it was a mile race, but apparently, I’d overestimated myself. Badly.

“Haa… haa… aaaaaahhh!”

I collapsed onto the grass, staring up at a sky so painfully blue it made me sick.

My scream was swallowed by the noise of trainers swarming around the popular Tern Uma Musume, scouting them eagerly.

No one heard me.

“Haha… guess that’s it for me, huh…”

Not only winless—I hadn’t even managed a debut. I’d be forced to leave Tracen Academy.

And after that?

With no proper ID, no family, nothing to my name… how was I supposed to survive?

A shiver ran down my spine.

This place—this life granted to me by the Three Goddesses—was all I had.

There was nowhere else to go. No escape.

Then, a voice called out to me.

“Hey—mind if I have a word?”

“Cough—cough! Huh? M-me?”

“Yeah. You’re the one who’s always running alongside the other Tern Uma Musume, right?”

It was a man in a suit, a trainer’s badge gleaming on his collar.

I almost dropped my guard—but no. I had to hold it together. First impressions mattered.

No one liked being spoken to casually by a stranger.

Still… why was he talking to me now, of all times?

I stayed cautious and waited to see what he’d do.

“Uh, well, yes, that’s me…”

“Then why did you try a full-speed runaway today? From what I’ve seen, you’re more of a late charger—someone who closes from behind, right? And not exactly the type with stamina to spare.”

“U-uh, well…”

What was I supposed to say?

Should I just admit it—‘I’m scared of serious Tern Uma Musume’?

No, that would be the worst possible thing to say.

If word spread that I was ‘temperamental,’ I’d be finished.

“Haha, well, runaways are pretty flashy, right? I figured maybe I’d get noticed more—boost my scouting chances a bit, you know?”

“Do you really believe that?”

“...!”

The trainer’s eyes pierced right through me.

Not accusing—just searching. Like he was looking straight into my soul.

“Tell me the truth. From what I’ve seen, you’re sharp—someone who really understands racing. You know what it takes to win. So why aren’t you running the way you should?”

“I—I…”

“Tell me. Don’t you want to win?”

That broke me.

His gaze—his question—it shattered the wall I’d been hiding behind.

“Of course I want to win! I have to win! But I’m scared of Tern Uma Musume when they’re serious, and before I know it, my body just moves aside on its own—and then I can’t win, and—and—aaaaahhh!”

By the time I realized, I was crying.

That was it. Game over.

No trainer would ever want a Tern Uma Musume who throws a tantrum and bursts into tears right after a selection race.

With that thought, I just stopped caring.

I sank to my knees, crying like a helpless little girl.

“…I see. So you do want to win. That’s why you tried something desperate like that, huh?”

“Hic… yeah… what’s so strange about that…? Am I really that wrong…?”

“No. Actually, I’m relieved.”

“Huh…?”

The trainer took my hand.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, gently wiped my face, and patted my back.

His voice was calm. Kind.

“I was starting to think you might be a Tern Uma Musume who didn’t want to win. You’re strong in practice, but you’ve finished dead last twice in a row on race day. I wondered if maybe you were throwing the races—trying to lose on purpose to leave the academy.”

“There’s no way I’d ever do something like that…”

“Believe it or not, there are some who do. But you’re not one of them. Which means there’s only one answer.”

The trainer extended his other hand toward me. His gaze was steady, his tone firm yet gentle.

“Would you become my Tern Uma Musume?”

Those were the words I’d dreamed of hearing.

Yet confusion outweighed joy. Naturally so—who in their right mind would scout the last-place finisher from a selection race?
Well… maybe in the game that could happen, but still.

“Why me…?”

“For one thing,” he said, “your running shows you understand how to win. You said you went for a full-speed runaway because your nerves were fragile. That’s a valid strategy—there are quite a few Tern Uma Musume who front-run simply because they can’t handle the pressure of the pack.”

“But…”

“You’re right—you don’t have the aptitude for front-running. And your stamina isn’t your strength either. Even so, deciding to change your style on your own? That’s something most can’t do. Especially not a first-year.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Most new students don’t even know what running styles suit them—or what each one demands. They just rely on brute force.

Even so, a Tern Uma Musume’s instincts usually optimize her running to some degree.

“And one more thing,” he continued. “You’ve got an eye for other Tern Uma Musume.”

“An eye for them? Anyone can see them, right?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Most of the first-years you trained alongside during those joint runs ended up ranking near the top of the selection race. I’m guessing you chose to run with them because you recognized their potential—before their reputations even spread.”

He was right.

I knew who they’d become—because I’d seen them in the app. But so what?

“Understanding your rivals’ strength and adjusting your running to match theirs… that’s rare. So I’ll say it clearly—you have talent.”

“Me? Talent?”

“That’s right. Which is why I want to scout you.”

Talent? Please.

It was all fake—borrowed from what I remembered of the game. A shallow imitation.

The further reality drifted from that source, the less my so-called “knowledge” would matter.

You could even call it an expiration-date kind of talent.

Sure, I might know about G1-tier Tern Uma Musume—but when it came to the so-called “mob” ones? I knew almost nothing.

That meant this so-called talent—this meta knowledge—would only matter if I actually reached the G1 stage.

But that was fine.

Because if I had a trainer, that was one step closer to my real goal—returning home.

“Run the Twinkle Series with me, Mithialx.”

“I (Ore)… no, I (Watashi)—”

I clenched my fists tightly.

I would deceive everyone—this trainer, the rivals I’d face, the world itself—if that’s what it took.

I’d make them believe I was a gifted Tern Uma Musume.

To protect my place here—no, to create my place here—there was no other choice.

Even if it meant deceiving the one person who’d found something in me.

“I, Mithialx, will race through the Twinkle Series as your Tern Uma Musume. All the way to the very end.”

I took his hand and gripped it firmly.

I wouldn’t let go—never. I will return home.

I steeled myself, deceiving even my own heart.

I am—a talented Tern Uma Musume. A runner who will blaze through the Twinkle Series.

“Yeah, I’m counting on you! Now then, we’ve got to file the paperwork. Hmm… what should I call you?”

“Mithia or Lux—either is fine. My roommate, Bridge Comp, calls me ‘Reu-chan,’ for instance.”

“Then I’ll go with Lux. Alright then—here’s to us, Lux.”

The trainer squeezed my hand back.

And with that, my journey in the Twinkle Series officially began.

“By the way… that way of speaking just now—”

“Forget about that. I usually go by this well-behaved ‘honor student’ persona in public.”

“Uh… o-okay…”

First comes the Make Debut race. If I don’t win there, it’s off to the Unwinner’s Race. Many Tern Uma Musume vanish from the Twinkle Series right at that first hurdle.

It’s the gateway to the Twinkle Series—and a towering challenge—but I’ll overcome it.

“All right, I need to set some goals too. But first… I should confirm my aptitudes.”

And I’ll run—not just for myself, but for the trainer who saw something in me.

Looking up, I saw the night slowly creeping across the sky.

“Reu-chan! I heard you got a trainer! That’s amazing!”

“Ah, yeah… thanks, Comp.”

“Mom’s so proud of you, Reu-chan. You’re growing up into such a fine Tern Uma Musume.”

“Ah… hahaha…”

Talking with Bridge Comp was soothing.

Even though my rough ‘ore’ persona didn’t bother me, I kept up the honor-student act to improve my chances of being scouted.

According to Bridge Comp: “If you make a good impression on your trainer, even just a little, your chances of being scouted go up! If you act too weird, even if you win, trainers won’t come near!”

I remembered strong Tern Uma Musume who struggled to get trainers because of difficult temperaments…

Roleplaying was fun, but naturally stressful at times. Still, it helped with scouting. Playing the honor-student type made it easier to join joint training sessions too.

“When’s your Make Debut? I’ll come watch!”

“It hasn’t been decided yet. I haven’t even started training.”

“Oh, right. Well, let me know once it’s set! I’ll definitely come! If I can make it, that is.”

“All right, got it.”

I slipped into bed, clutching my blanket.

I had taken the first step, but I still couldn’t relax. My weakness in real races hadn’t been solved yet.

Still… for now, it was okay to sleep peacefully. I thought that as my consciousness slowly drifted away.

“Reu-chan? Already asleep?”

A tiny change in Mithialx—one only Bridge Comp could notice after being with her since enrollment.

“This is totally it… Reu-chan’s in love, isn’t she…?”

Being scouted by her trainer had seemed to make Mithialx glow.
At first, her excitement had been adorable—but as she talked about him, her gestures subtly changed. Probably unconsciously, but undeniably feminine.

“Looks like she doesn’t realize it herself, but with a face like that, it’s obvious.”

Above all, Lux was starting to show her womanly side.

“Ha… she’s weak to that sort of thing, so I’ll just have to watch over her, huh.”

Bridge Comp said it with a hint of exasperation, but also with satisfaction.
Then she pulled the blanket over her head and drifted off to sleep.