Chapter 3: An Oblivious Maiden in Love

Dressed in my tracksuit, I stepped out onto the training ground. As I stretched to loosen up, my Trainer approached.

"Alright, Lux. Let’s see what kind of races you’re suited for. Ready?"

"Yes, anytime."

The Trainer gripped his stopwatch, and I took off down the course. I ran short distance first, then mile, middle, and long distance. After finishing the dirt run, I jogged back over to him, panting.

"Hah… huff… so, how’d I do?"

"Not bad. Your best time was in the short-distance run, but your mile wasn’t bad either. Middle distance isn’t hopeless. Long distance and dirt, though… you might want to give up on those."

I leaned over to peek at the times in his hand. Yeah, long distance and dirt were definitely out of the question. This wasn’t something that could be fixed with training—it was more like a natural limit. Unless some external factor improved distance aptitude. In the app, we had “factor inheritance” for that. But this world doesn’t have that… right? Actually, if it did, we’d probably end up with “Turf Smart Falcon,” and that’s a terrifying thought.

"For middle distance, your time drops a step or two compared to the mile. Still, since your mile time’s within a good range, let’s focus on short and mile races. If you can handle both, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to enter."

"Right. If I couldn’t even handle a mile, there’d be barely any races left for me to join."

In fact, there are only two turf short-distance G1 races.

"Even if G1 races are out of reach for middle distance, you might still manage a decent placement depending on the race. It’ll still be a tough fight, though."

"Um, by the way… what about my running style?"

"I’ve got a good idea about that. First off, escaping’s out of the question. Maintaining your pace while being constantly pressured from behind—do you think you could handle that?"

"…No, that’s impossible."

The escape style used by Mihono Bourbon and Silence Suzuka is often considered ideal. The reason is simple—they can keep running at their own pace.

One of the biggest reasons escape runners lose is because their pace gets disrupted. Uma Musume are creatures strongly driven by instinct. Near the end of a race, it’s common for their fighting spirit to flare up uncontrollably, causing them to make reckless moves and slow down. Well, Silence Suzuka was a true monster who actually accelerated in the final stretch, though.

"I thought escape would suit me since I can run pretty rationally…"

"You’re a bit too cautious for that. It can’t be helped. And also… no, I’ll save that for later."

"Then, my running style is…?"

Front-runner and between-runner positions were hopeless since I’d have to compete in close quarters among the pack. That left only one option.

"Chaser, huh… in short-distance races…"

A sprinter who’s a chaser. In the app, that combination was practically impossible. So this is a no-win setup, isn’t it?

"That’s right. But I think it’s actually not bad."

"A sprinter… with a chasing style?"

Is he mocking me!? Being praised for such an obviously bad combo almost made my blood boil—but then the Trainer reached out his hand.

His large hand gently patted my head.

"You’ll be fine. You can win, Lux. For now, I want you to try one run. Start your final burst at the signal I give you."

…Did he just smooth-talk me? I couldn’t shake that vague, uneasy feeling as I went back to the track for another test run. I slowed my pace halfway through, then kicked into a sprint at his cue.

"Hah! Huff! Once I hit the straightaway—full speed!"

I pushed off the turf, pounding forward with everything I had. Crossing the finish line, I collapsed straight onto the grass. Was… was that good enough?

"Yeah, just as I thought. Lux, mind if I touch your legs for a second?"

"Eh!? M-my legs!? N-no, I don’t… I don’t mind…"

"Alright, excuse me then."

His hands pressed and shifted slightly, feeling around as if testing something. As he did, he jotted notes onto the papers in his hand.

"Yep, they’re thick… and there’s barely any fatigue."

"T-thick!?"

"They’re great sprinter’s hind legs. With proper training, your explosive power will be incredible."

Okay, yes, I knew they were thick, but hearing it out loud stings a little. They could probably rival Daiwa Scarlet’s legs in sheer mass. Still, it seems that’s actually ideal. Thick, but good…? Well, at least my legs didn’t show any signs of fatigue, even if my breathing was heavy.

"I’ll put together a training menu for you by tomorrow. What kind of training have you been doing so far?"

"Uh, mostly steady-pace running and partner drills."

"Alright, from today, I want you to study this first."

He handed me a binder. It looked like a compiled set of race analyses—detailing which horses ran how, along with their time progressions during each race.

"This one’s the video material. Watch it alongside the binder. Chasing depends a lot on race flow. Consider this training for grasping that flow as quickly as possible."

He compiled all this in one day? There must’ve been data for at least twenty races in here. And short-distance chasers are a rare breed to begin with.

"U-um… are you sure it’s okay for me to have this?"

"Of course it is. You’re my Uma Musume. I made those materials for my trainee—you’re the only one who should have them."

"Y-yes, sir."

The weight of his expectations felt crushing.

I’m just a half-serious Uma Musume who’d be satisfied with a single win, yet somehow, I’m starting to feel guilty.

At the same time, though, I could feel just how harsh the racing world really was—how this level of pressure was normal if you wanted to win.

"What's next?"

"You ran a distance you’re not used to, so it must’ve taken a toll on you. Get some proper rest."

That night, after soaking in the bath, I flipped through the binder in my hands.

It was neatly organized—impossible to believe it had been put together in just one day.

"Huh, a closing burst on a mile track… Oh, so the other Uma Musume avoided the rough turf near the inner rail. Then she went right through it to take the lead."

All the data focused on races where closers had either won or put up strong fights. The binder was filled to the brim with exactly the kind of information I needed right now.

As I was going through race after race, Bridge Comp suddenly called out to me.

"Rue? You’d better get some sleep soon or you’re gonna regret it tomorrow."

"Eh? Wait—it's that late already!?"

"Yup! You were super focused, huh?"

Half the binder was still left unfinished. But yeah, it was probably time to stop for tonight.

"Ugh, I didn’t finish…"

"Was that something you had to do in a single day?"

"Huh? …Now that you mention it, no one said that."

"Then maybe it was meant to cover a few days’ worth of studying?"

Wait, seriously? I thought it was supposed to be finished in one sitting. Thinking about it now, there’s no way I could get through all the written and video material in one day.

Maybe I got a little too carried away after finally getting assigned a Trainer.

Feeling embarrassed, I decided to just flop into bed and call it a night.

"Good night… sleep…"

"Yeah yeah, good night~"

The next morning, I stretched while asking my Trainer about it.

"Um, about that binder from yesterday… was I supposed to go through it slowly?"

"Hm? Oh, right. Just take your time with it whenever you have free moments. It’s good for a mental reset after workouts, too."

"Ah, understood."

I can’t say it.
No way am I admitting I already finished half in one night.

"Alright then, starting today, let’s focus on physical training. We’ll need to identify what areas you should strengthen first."

"Uh, explosive power, right?"

"Exactly. For a closer, explosive power is key. You’ll see it mentioned in the material I gave you—there are two main elements to winning as a closer."

To win as a closer, you need proper positioning and a devastating finishing kick. Everything depends on how you deal with the pack ahead—whether you slip through the inside, swing wide and overtake from the outside, or weave right through the middle.

"To develop one of those key elements—your finishing kick—we’ll need to work on explosive power. I’ve prepared several drills for that, so I want you to try them out."

"Got it. I understand."

I trained hard that day, pushing myself to the limit to build more explosive strength.

Afterward, I cooled down with stretches. Cooldowns were vital for Uma Musume. Even though we’re built tougher than humans, we still have plenty of fragile spots. The strain we put on our bodies from running is on a completely different level.

An Uma Musume can hit speeds of up to 70 km/h. Just imagine the impact all that force puts on these two thin legs.

"You okay, Mithialx?"

"I’m fine. Just cooling down, that’s all."

"Ah, cooling down. You were pressing that spot, so I thought you’d hurt yourself."

My Trainer walked over, looking genuinely concerned.

That pure sincerity made me smile despite myself.

"Since we’re at it, I’ll show you the proper way to cool down. I can help when I’m around, but during solo training, you’ll have to handle it yourself."

"Eh? W-wait a sec!"

"You need to take off your shoes first. Now, just press here and work it in like this—"

"Eek!"

As expected of a Trainer, his hands moved without hesitation, precisely targeting each knot of tension.

Still, does he have any sense of delicacy!? I’m an Uma Musume, you know!?

"H-hey, Trainer!"

"If anything hurts, let me know, alright? It could be an early sign of injury."

"I’m sweating! At least let me shower first!"

"You don’t smell bad, so it’s fine."

"That’s not the point!"

That said, his massage skills were undeniably effective. I could tell he didn’t have any ulterior motives, either.

His eyes never wandered toward my thighs or chest—he was focused entirely on the muscles he worked, carefully checking for fatigue or strain.

"And that’s about it. Do this much on your own after solo training, okay?"

"Haa… haa… Thank you…"

The results were annoyingly good. My legs already felt lighter than before.

But seriously—why was I so flustered? My body might be that of an Uma Musume, but my mind’s still a guy, right?

Feeling confused, I ruffled my hair roughly. Somehow, I knew this was something I’d never figure out no matter how long I thought about it.

"Alright, that’s it for today. Get some good rest, okay?"

"Yeah…"

Even though my fatigue should’ve been gone, I somehow felt even more drained.

Back in my room, I flipped through the binder again. The materials were impressively thorough—maybe they’d been used for previous trainees too.

Realizing the binder wasn’t meant just for me left a strange, hollow feeling in my chest.

"Rue? What’s up? Your face keeps changing like, every few seconds."

"Huh? Was it that obvious?"

"Yeah, one second you looked happy, then suddenly grumpy… Something bothering you?"

Was I really making that face? Ugh, must’ve been because of that tactless Trainer. I do appreciate him for scouting me, but still… that’s a separate issue.

"It’s just, my Trainer’s kinda—well, is it normal for them to massage a trainee’s legs like that?"

"Ooh, sounds like a pretty bold Trainer you’ve got there."

"Right!? And I hadn’t even taken a shower yet! What do you think, Comp!?"

As I vented about my Trainer’s lack of delicacy, Comp listened with interest at first but soon got distracted, fiddling with her phone instead.

I sighed and went back to reading the binder.

After a while, Comp suddenly spoke up.

"Hey, Rue, about what you said earlier… It’s not that you didn’t like being touched, right…?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"N-nothing! Forget it!"

(That’s totally the behavior of a girl in love, you know…)

Before her race debut, she made another debut—into the world of love.
Completely unaware of it herself, this was the uncertain beginning of Mithialx’s journey.