Chapter 19: A Wall Called the Classics, Challenged Through Friendship

Covered in mud and completely drained of motivation, I barely had time to catch my breath after the race before preparations for the Winning Live began.

The moment the staff saw me caked head to toe in mud, they froze in shock—but they were professionals. I was shoved straight into the showers, scrubbed clean, and then given VIP-level treatment as three people worked together to dry my hair. Before I knew it, my hair was perfectly styled and I was slipped into my live costume.

Thanks to their impressive speed, I was restored to my usual self in no time.

My only regret is that no one filmed the whole process. Videos of people rescuing filthy stray dogs or cats and cleaning them up always go viral, so the Uma Musume version would probably be a massive hit.

After surviving the freezing Winning Live and returning to the trainer’s room, I was completely exhausted. Honestly, I didn’t feel like running another race for a while.

When I told Trainer that, he suggested spacing out my races more. Originally, we were planning on running in the Yayoi Sho three weeks later, but instead he proposed entering the Spring Stakes. It’s basically a prep race for the big one afterward—the Satsuki Sho—so either option works.

Speaking of which, Spe-chan had won the Kisaragi Sho recently, and then there’s the Yayoi Sho. Including the Satsuki Sho, it feels like there’s a race each month that uses that month’s old name. I thought Satsuki meant June, so did that mean I’d be stuck training until June after the Spring Stakes?

When I proudly shared that conclusion, Trainer kindly informed me that the Satsuki Sho is in April. Looks like I mixed up the old month names.

The day after the race, while browsing through newly released games to unwind, one title caught my eye.

Screaming Powerful Uma Musume.

It’s a popular game where you raise chibi-style Uma Musume and aim for victories across various races. Despite its reputation, I’d never touched it because I didn’t know much about racing before.

But now I’m different. I understand race grades, weights, strategies, abilities—finally enough knowledge to play the game properly.

With that confidence, I picked up this year’s freshly released Power-Uma. Apparently the game includes real currently active Uma Musume, and each year they add the ones who performed well.

Booting it up, I was greeted by an adorable Uma Musume—more like a plush toy than the real thing.

There seem to be several modes, but two are recommended.

One is Successus Mode. You play as a rookie trainer who meets an Uma Musume, trains her, races her, and ultimately aims to win the Japan World Cup three years later. You can also have the Uma Musume you’ve raised compete against each other.

The other is Glory Seven. You form a team, send the Uma Musume in it to races, and try to climb the rankings through team results. The charm is that knowledge and training methods get passed from seniors to juniors, strengthening the entire team over generations.

Both sounded fun, but I decided to try Successus Mode first. Raising one is easier than managing a whole team, and it seemed like a better way to learn the basics.

My first trainee lost her debut race. She kept losing in maiden races too. But after raising three or four of them, I started to get the hang of it.

Trainer—who had been watching my gameplay with oddly serious eyes—gave me some advice. As expected of an active Uma Musume trainer, his guidance was spot-on. Thanks to him, losing a makeup debut became almost impossible. Apparently, he used to play too but stopped after becoming a trainer because of how busy he is.

Unfortunately, after two weeks, I got bored.

Once you get good at it, you win most races, so it just becomes a repetitive cycle of clearing whatever race is listed as the objective. The only real troublemaker was an Uma Musume called Ginshari Girl in the final race, but once you get used to her, even she goes down by a wide margin.

But the most unforgivable thing of all was that training ends with a single button press. If only my real training could be done with just a button… I’m so jealous.

Since March is full of game releases, I played through a bunch of new titles. I figured that once I was done, I’d try the mode with actual Uma Musume in it. Trainer seems to play it occasionally now, so I guess everything worked out fine.

Speaking of which, I’ve completely stopped posting on Umatter, the social platform I started before the Kyodo News Hai. Maybe it’d be fun to just say whatever I wanted, but Trainer might yell at me if I posted something weird, and honestly, dealing with it just feels like a hassle now.

Even though we had conducted a survey, the very first step of the season ended up being a race from the back, which made things a little awkward.

And, frankly, I didn’t have time to worry about trivial matters.

The real problem was that the end-of-year exams were right around the corner.

My comrade Spe-chan and I had formed a desperate alliance to avoid supplementary lessons with one last miracle, but so far, no secret plan had been found.

One day at lunch, just as I was about to head off for my usual nap, Spe-chan called out to me.

Perhaps it was because she had recently won a graded race, or maybe because Suzuka-san’s return was near, but Spe-chan had been in high spirits lately. She was apparently still eating well, too—the nearby ramen shop had discontinued its free-refill rice offer just for her not long ago.

But today, Spe-chan’s smile was even bigger than usual.

"Wee-chan, look at this!"

She said it excitedly, holding out three pencils.

I rarely see real pencils these days since we mostly use mechanical ones, but these looked fairly normal. The only unique feature was the cat-shaped cap on the back, which looked oddly familiar—like a beckoning cat charm.

In the next moment, I realized what Spe-chan had accomplished. I didn’t know how she managed it, but it didn’t diminish her greatness one bit. After all, the one who wins last is the true winner.

"Could it be…"

"Yes! These are Fuku-Kitaru-san’s special lucky pencils! And, of course…"

Before I could react, Spe-chan flashed a sly grin and removed the cap.

On the pencil’s side were numbers from 1 to 6.

"With these, passing the end-of-year exams is guaranteed! Right, Spe-chan!!"

"Wee-chan!!"

Before I knew it, we were wrapped in a warm, triumphant hug.

If this were a movie, this would definitely be the scene used in the trailers as the iconic moment. And in the ending, the true friendship of the two who successfully avoided supplementary lessons would surely be celebrated.

At least, that’s what we thought.

Apparently we had been a little too noticeable while celebrating, because King-chan showed up after someone reported us. The Fuku-Kitaru special rolling pencils were confiscated on the spot.

On top of that, wielding the extreme logic that we "should be seriously studying," King-chan even held a study session for the upcoming exams. Thanks to her swift decision-making, Grass-chan was scheduled to join us as well.

Incidentally, it seems Fuku-Kitaru-san got a scolding from Suzuka-san after hearing what happened.