Chapter 16: A parent’s cold tea becomes poison.

…Yeah. It’s cold after all.

The first thing I thought when I came back home after so long was something that bland.

My hometown—Hokkaido—is cold.
…I know, you might think, Well, obviously. But it’s probably about five times colder than what people living in the Kanto region imagine. Even in March, the daytime high can hover around two degrees Celsius, and of course, there’s still snow on the ground. It doesn’t melt. Not at all.

It’s no longer lick-this-and-you’ll-die cold, but even so, if you don’t wear proper winter gear, the extremities of your body can honestly end up frostbitten. And if you tried sleeping outside, you could very well freeze to death. It can still snow, after all.

That’s how harsh Hokkaido is. Seriously—don’t ever come here lightly dressed.

And so, on March 10th.

We set foot on that land.

"…Whoa. It’s colder than I imagined. Even though it’s the same Japan, the difference is this big?"

"There’s roughly a ten-degree difference compared to Tokyo. March in Hokkaido is more than five degrees colder than January in Tokyo. And if you factor in wind chill, it feels even colder."

"I’d heard about it, but I’m glad I brought winter clothes after all. Thanks for the warning, Hoshino Wilm."

As he said that, the Trainer slowly rested a hand on my head and gently stroked my hair.

…Ah. Warm.

It feels good. Or maybe calming. Like being acknowledged.

I really love that feeling. Honestly, I even find myself wishing he’d keep doing this forever.

"Ehe… hehe."

Lately, I don’t think I’m very good at hiding my expressions when I’m around the Trainer.

When he’s a bit absentminded, or when he pats my head like this, a smile inevitably slips through the cracks in my mask. Even during casual conversations like this, I can tell I’m acting just a little closer to my true self.

…Maybe there’s no need to put on a front in the first place.

『Whether you win or lose, if you want, I’ll pat your head.
What I’m praising isn’t the result of victory—it’s the fact that you worked hard, kept training, and came back safely.』

Those were the words he gave me on a winter night.

Just remembering them makes my chest feel… tingly and tight.

No matter what kind of horse girl I am, the Trainer would support me with everything he has. Even if I told him I was a reincarnator… maybe.

He’d doubt me, sure. But I think he’d still keep our relationship as it is.

In that sense, maybe I don’t need to wear this mask anymore. At least in front of him, Hoshino Wilm might be allowed to be “me.”

And yet, I still keep it on.

It’s simply because I don’t have the courage to show my bare face.

The Trainer is an incredible person. A true cheat-level Trainer. Not just in terms of ability—his way of thinking and living could be called saintly, without exaggeration.

But still… no, because of that—

If he ever looked at me like I was something strange.
If he felt disgusted.
If he canceled our Trainer contract.
If he never patted my head again…

…I don’t think I could endure it this time.

Honestly, I know I’m being ridiculously easy.

It’s been just over a year since we met. In that time, we’ve gone through so much together—laughing, getting scolded.

Before I realized it, the Trainer had come to occupy a deep part of my heart.

Trust. Affection. Fondness. I feel all of it toward him.

To me, the Trainer had become… the most important person in this world.

That’s why I asked him to come here today.

I want him to know. Or maybe—to shoulder it together with me.

My past is mine alone, and talking about it won’t make it any lighter. If anything, I might just burden the Trainer with unnecessary weight…

Even so.

Is it really so strange to want the person you love to know who you are?

"When we’re done, shall we grab something to eat before heading back?"

"Sounds good. I’ll cover it—let’s get something tasty. As a former local, do you have any recommendations?"

"…Now that you mention it, I don’t actually know any good restaurants."

"Ah… yeah, I figured. Then we’ll just pick somewhere."

As we exchanged those words, I did my best to calm the unpleasant pounding in my chest.

---

About twenty minutes by car, away from town.

There lay a vast, open space—so wide you couldn’t even tell who owned it. A grassy plain with only a few trees growing here and there, left mostly untended. It was once a training ground I used long ago.

On its outskirts—

A plaza enclosed by fences and paved with stone, clearly distinct from the surrounding wilderness.
A communal cemetery, rows of gravestones standing side by side.

This is where my parents rest.

"Hah…"

I take a deep breath.

I calm my heart. I tell myself it’s nothing special, forcing my emotions down with logic. If I don’t, I’ll be swallowed whole by the atmosphere of this place.

It’s an utterly ordinary cemetery.

Clean and well-maintained. The gravestones are neatly aligned, with no noticeable disorder. The surrounding grassland, while not meticulously groomed, is trimmed regularly. There are no dangerous wild animals, and a gentle breeze rustles through the sparse trees.

Fresh snow, untouched by footprints, blankets the ground—spreading a tranquil world of white and green.

Most people would probably think this is a beautiful, peaceful place.

…Even so, for me, it’s unbearably painful.

I can’t breathe. My legs feel heavy. I’m dizzy. I feel like I might throw up. Every time I come here, those sensations crush me.

Dad. Mom.

The two people who gave birth to me and raised me in this life.

Being here makes it painfully real that they’re gone.

…But this time—

"Are you okay, Hoshino Wilm?"

He’s beside me.

Horino Trainer. The man who always thinks about me, acts for my sake… and warms me.

Though his expression remains as impassive as ever, his eyes clearly reflect concern as he notices me stopping in my tracks.

…A new discovery, in my second life.

It seems that having someone you trust at your side greatly reduces mental pain.

"…I’m fine. Let’s go, Trainer."

I can’t show him anything more pathetic than this.

Let’s go.

…I have so many things I want to say—to my parents, and to the Trainer.

As expected, the grave itself was no different from the others.

A tombstone engraved with my parents’ names, positioned neither at the edge nor at the center—just an unremarkable spot in between.

"It’s been a while, Dad. Mom."

I speak a single line.

…They’re not here anymore. Even if I say it out loud, there’s no one left to hear it.

And yet, I still do.

What kind of feeling is that, I wonder?

Am I still chasing after their shadows?

Or is this simply what it means to remember the dead—nothing strange at all?

After drawing water from a nearby tap, cleaning the area around the grave, and sprinkling water over the ground.

After offering water and rice, lighting incense, and arranging the flowers.

I close my eyes once more and bring my hands together before the grave.

Now, no matter what I do, I can’t talk to the two of them.

So this is nothing more than thought—nothing but words spoken inside my head.

Dad. Mom. It’s been a while—again.
It’s your child, Hoshino Wilm. Do you still remember me?

I came today to report something.

I safely enrolled in Central Tracen Academy, and I found a Trainer.
I think he’s a good one. Someone I can truly trust.

He doesn’t spoil me too much, but he always considers my feelings. I met a truly wonderful person.

I made my proper debut, and I won the Yayoi Sho the other day. My entry into the Satsuki Sho is basically guaranteed now.

Yes—the Satsuki Sho. The first step of the Classic route. Mom’s dream race.

In the end, I guess I’m fulfilling Mom’s dream in her place.

…Mom. Was this really the right thing for me to do?

At the Satsuki Sho, I’ll be racing against Teio-chan.

Teio-chan. My favorite from my previous life—and an incredibly strong horse girl.

At first, I was confused. But I’m not anymore.

Hoshino Wilm has to win. I understand that. I’ll be fine.

I will win. I promise.

So if you still remember me—please watch from wherever you are.

…

Of course.

There was no voice in response to the report I made in my heart.

Right now, there’s only one person who can answer my words.

"Trainer."

"What is it?"

A gentle, concerned voice—much softer than usual.

Even without knowing anything, you sense my state and try to support me.

"There’s something I want you to hear.

…About my past."

---

Hoshino Wilm was born into a perfectly ordinary family.

Our home was in rural Hokkaido—so far out that just getting to a convenience store took nearly twenty minutes by car. There, my parents built a fairly spacious two-story house, and the three of us lived together.

…Well, we sold it when I entered Tracen Academy, so it’s no longer a place I belong to.

As for my father… I never really knew what his job was, but he seemed to earn quite a lot. He was always rushing around for work.

Even so, his love for my mother was obvious. Whenever he had free time, he would sit in the chair beside her bed and chat with her about trivial things. I still remember that clearly.

My mother was a horse girl. But unusually for one, she had a frail body and couldn’t run properly.

Apparently, she hadn’t always been that way. I only heard it once, but when she was younger, her dream had been to go to the Central circuit and race in the Classics.

Around her early teens, her health began to seriously decline. After that, she spent nearly half of every year confined to bed.

In the end, she never even enrolled in a local Tracen academy, and her life passed without any real connection to racing at all.

She regretted that life deeply. She often laughed self-deprecatingly, calling herself “a defective product as a horse girl.”

…She probably didn’t think that baby-me could understand those words.

As for me, born to those two… well, aside from being a reincarnator, I was a fairly ordinary horse girl.

Even though I retained the memories and personality from my previous life, as a child my mentality was still that of a normal kid. I’m sure I caused my fair share of trouble.

Just as the doctor predicted, I grew up healthy. I didn’t inherit my mother’s frailty, and surrounded by my parents’ love, I grew steadily and strong.

In short, it was a truly ordinary family.

Probably the kind you could find anywhere in this world if you looked hard enough.

And then—

A tragedy just as ordinary, just as common, occurred.

It’s only natural to envy what you don’t have. The grass is always greener on the other side.

I, too, found my memories of a previous life burdensome at times… and I envied the “normal” people who didn’t have them.

And of course, that rule doesn’t exclude mothers.

When I started standing up on my own, running properly—and saying things like, "I want to race other horse girls soon"—

My mother’s gaze, and her love, gradually began to twist. Within about a year, it broke completely.

After that, it wasn’t quite neglect… but more like I barely existed in my mother’s field of vision anymore.

But please don’t misunderstand. I didn’t hate my mother.

I was sad, and it hurt—but even so, I was a former college student. It wasn’t difficult to infer how she felt. And besides… I knew all too well, from my previous life, what it felt like to envy someone else’s undeniable talent.

I understood her. I empathized with her. I could accept it. And above all else, the love she had given me up until then had been real.

So I never came to hate my mother.

If anything, I think I felt sorry for her.

Maybe it was because I thought she was pitiful that I couldn’t bring myself to hate her at all.

My father loved my mother deeply, so he ended up devoting himself entirely to her.

And I, having lost my place in the household… well, embarrassingly enough, I became something of a problem child.

This is something I misunderstood about myself at the time.

No matter how much knowledge or personality I carried over from my previous life, mental resilience and the intensity of emotional surges still depend heavily on age and environment.

Once neither my father nor my mother paid attention to me anymore, I gave in to emotional impulses. Looking back now, I did some truly awful things.

Because I had knowledge I shouldn’t have had, I used sly, calculated methods—ways that wouldn’t get me blamed—to cause all sorts of trouble.

I won’t go into detail about what exactly I did… but it was bad enough that I ended up completely isolated in kindergarten, and even the staff came to dislike me.

Honestly, you should never talk about having memories of a previous life in public. I ended up completely parting ways with the one staff member who genuinely tried to help me because of that.

…In the end, the root cause—my mother—passed away from illness around the time I was about to enter elementary school.

Her health had been deteriorating little by little ever since she started ignoring me, and I think my very existence had become a mental burden to her.

All that remained were her unfulfilled dreams, and a pair of earrings she had meant to give me for my birthday.

I’m truly sorry. There’s no excuse—my mother dying unhappy is something that happened because I was born.

After my mother was gone, did I become brighter once I entered elementary school?

No. That didn’t happen either.

The countryside is a closed community. Rumors spread quickly, settle easily, and then continue circulating endlessly among insiders.

By the time I entered elementary school, it was already common knowledge among the entire student body that I was a terrible child.

Even on my very first day, I was met with cold looks from everyone—including the teachers.

It was completely my own fault, but there was no way I could suddenly become cheerful in that environment. I ignored the voice of my previous-life rationality screaming that "this is bad," and charged straight down the path of delinquency.

Meanwhile, my father sank into despair for about two years.

He was the kind of man who could casually move seven-digit sums just to support my mother, so it only made sense that losing her so young would leave him devastated.

It took a long time for him to recover. So long that I wondered if he ever would.

But then, one day—

On the day I happened to jump into a casual footrace among horse girls and took first place—

My father suddenly became cheerful again, and he patted my head.

The change was so abrupt that, honestly, it confused me.

I couldn’t control my emotions well, and even small things shocked me easily, but my ability to think was still inherited from my previous life. Seeing someone who had been so deeply depressed suddenly brighten like that felt… off.

But more than anything else—

I was happy to be comforted.

Because it finally felt like I had a real family again.

Every time I won a race against other horse girls, my father would pat my head.

I couldn’t feel any warmth from his hand—but even so, my heart felt at ease.

The more I won, the more of my father’s love I was given.

And so I…

Hoshino Wilm had to win.

My father died.

It was a traffic accident. …Not anything dramatic, like being run over or a hit-and-run.

He tried to avoid cargo that had spilled from a truck in front of him and crashed head-on into a utility pole hidden in his blind spot—a senseless, unavoidable accident.

There was no one to blame. And I, having lost my only remaining support—

Devoted myself entirely to running.

My father taught me this.

If you win, you’ll be acknowledged. If you win, you’ll be happy.

In reality, the more I won, the more the blatant malice directed at me faded away.

No one tries to reach out and harm something that exists in a completely separate world.

As I shifted from being an isolated idiot to something closer to a lone, untouchable horse girl, the space around me grew quiet—and cold.

I might never become happy. Somewhere along the way, I realized that.

But at the very least, I could be freed from suffering.

"I need to get faster."

To do that, I had to go to the Central circuit.

Honestly, the thought that I might have to compete against horse girls I’d been fans of in my previous life was a little depressing, but…

I had no choice.

If it meant not losing, then even those girls—I’d have to defeat them.

Because a Hoshino Wilm who can’t win has no value.

In the end—

That feeling is the very origin of Hoshino Wilm.

Shattering the dreams of every other horse girl, just so someone would praise me.

…What an egoistic, childish motive.

---

I finish telling my story in front of my parents’ graves.

Of course, I didn’t say the parts you’re absolutely not supposed to say—things like a previous life or reincarnation.

Honestly, it was a dark, gloomy, boring story.

Not something that necessarily needs to be hidden, but a past that produces nothing but negativity when spoken aloud.

Looking back now, I think I was pretty cornered before I met my Trainer.

I kept emphasizing that I was a reincarnator, naming my abilities, stripping away my own sense of reality…

Somewhere deep down, I felt like I wasn’t fully grounded—no, like I refused to be grounded.

As if I were saying this isn’t real, so it doesn’t hurt—trying to reduce this life, this world I was living in, to something fictional.

My father wasn’t at fault. My mother wasn’t either. Everyone was just doing their best to survive.

Through sheer misfortune and irreconcilable timing, our family fell apart.

That’s all it was.

And yet, that “just that” left a wound in me so deep it was hard to accept.

…That’s why I’d never told anyone. Not a single person.

So I wouldn’t touch it carelessly. So I wouldn’t reopen the scar. So I wouldn’t remember the loneliness of that time.

And yet, here I am now, talking about it.

That probably says just how much I trust and rely on the Trainer.

That I believe he’ll stay by my side. That if I try my best, he’ll praise me.

I can’t help but laugh quietly behind my mask at my own immaturity.

In the end, I really am just a middle-school girl in this world.

"I’m sorry for dragging you through such a long, boring story. You don’t need to give me your impressions or sympathy. I just… wanted you to hear it."

"I see. …I’m sorry. Right now, I don’t know what I should say, or with what kind of emotion."

Well, of course.

This isn’t just a vaguely dark story. And even if he said something, I wouldn’t know how to respond.

Nothing would change just because I said it. I wasn’t looking for some grand reaction either.

At its core, this was basically just venting.

The fact that he listened at all was something to be grateful for. I shouldn’t ask for anything more.

"…Still, well."

Plop.

A hand rests on my head.

A warm hand—different from my father’s—lightly combs through my hair.

"You’ve worked hard. Truly. I’m glad I met you. I’ve learned much from you, and received much from you. My abilities as a Trainer couldn’t have been brought this far with anyone else. So… thank you, Hoshino Wilm."

"…Heh. Trainer, you really shouldn’t say things like that so casually to other girls."

I force myself to smile, desperately holding back the sharp sting welling up behind my eyes.

Honestly—those kinds of lines aren’t something you should say lightly.

Don’t get the wrong idea.

I know Horino Trainer well.

He’s an extremely earnest person.

Even now, he isn’t thinking about flirting or affection points or anything frivolous. He’s only thinking about our relationship, and my mental state.

He’s not trying to make me fall for him. Not at all. If anything, I’m just about to do that on my own.

I’m a blooming middle-schooler, you know? If a handsome guy says sweet things with that face, of course I’m going to get the wrong idea at least once.

…He’s always like this. What a troublesome, bewitching Trainer.

"Alright then. We’re going, Dad. Mom. Next time, I’ll come back after winning the Triple Crown. …And if the Trainer’s willing, we’ll come together again."

As I step away from the grave, the Trainer takes my place and kneels before it.

"I am Horino, the Trainer currently entrusted with Hoshino Wilm. I cannot promise results, but I will devote myself fully to supporting your daughter on her path to glory. Please watch over Hoshino Wilm’s running from above, with peace in your hearts. …Until next time. In the spring of next year."

After saying only that, sincerely, he stands back up.

Hearing that he’d support me with everything he had—and that he naturally assumed he’d come again next time—made my body feel a little warmer, but…

What caught my attention was the last phrase.

"What do you mean by ‘next spring’? The Kikuka Sho is in October, isn’t it?"

"Hey—don’t tell me you think everything ends with the Kikuka Sho.
…Ah, no. That’s on me. I didn’t properly explain your schedule. I was thinking after the Classic races, but…
You’ll be racing the Satsuki Sho in April, the Japan Derby in May, and the Takarazuka Kinen in June. After that, you’ll take a break and refocus, then it’s the Kikuka Sho in October, the Japan Cup in November, and the Arima Kinen in December.
So after winning the Kikuka Sho, there won’t really be time to come here for a while. The earliest we could report back would be after the New Year."

S-So… without me knowing, a pretty packed schedule has already been put together…

Well, I mean, I’m not particularly picky about which races I run.

I’m only interested in the undefeated Triple Crown, so I did say early on that I’d leave the rest up to him.

…Still, wow. It’s nothing but famous G1 races.

From the way he lists them off with a straight face, I can practically see the unspoken trust—like he genuinely believes, "You’ll obviously win them all."

Trainer… just how much do you believe in my strength? It’s honestly a little scary.

Well, whatever.

I’ll live up to that trust.

To win.

…And for the sake of my one and only Trainer.

"Shall we go, Hoshino Wilm?"

"Yes."

We stand up and naturally begin walking side by side.

As we leave the cemetery and our footprints sink into the white snow, I open my mouth without really thinking.

"…By the way, about the mock race after we get back."

"I’ve told you many times already. We won’t be able to see the recruitment results until we return. There’s nothing more I can say."

"I see. Then, about the mock race after that one."

"I don’t know if something’s wrong with my language center, but it sounds like you’re assuming the next one is already scheduled."

"That is exactly what I’m saying."

"……This is bad. I can’t think of a clever comeback."

Trading light banter like that, we keep walking together.

Suddenly, I think—this is fun.

When we first signed our contract, I never imagined I’d end up casually joking around with my Trainer like this.

At first, I focused entirely on never letting him glimpse behind my mask. And even after I realized he was kind of a mess in his own way, the amount we talked didn’t really increase.

That’s why the mock race with Nature is… well, to put it bluntly, a really good excuse.

I do have a mind that’s been to college once already. I know full well that this kind of pestering has zero productivity.

But my desire to race Nature isn’t a lie…

…And on top of that, using it as a topic to casually talk with my Trainer is fun.

So I end up saying it out loud.

This is nothing more than clingy, pointless chatter.

I’m clumsy like that. This is the only way I know how to communicate with my Trainer.

But he always meets it head-on.

Even when it’s troublesome, he deals with it sincerely.

That’s what makes it fun—and makes me happy.

Is this what people call happiness?

If so, it’s far warmer than I expected.

At the end, I glance back over my shoulder.

Whoosh—a gust of wind sweeps through, rippling across the snow-covered grassland.

The quiet cemetery… a sight that always weighed heavily on my heart.

But today, just for a moment, it felt a little beautiful.

---

After returning from our trip, on another day, I go over the documents Tazuna-san handed us together with my Trainer.

It’s the long-awaited list of applicants for the mock race.

Including Nature, there are quite a few horse girls’ names lined up.

"…That’s a lot."

"Yeah. I didn’t expect this many. We’ll have to narrow them down."

To be honest, the timing is pretty bad for holding a mock race right now.

It’s right before the Satsuki Sho, the first of the Classic races.

If you’re a horse girl aiming for the Triple Crown, you wouldn’t want to force yourself into a race at this point.

Even if it’s just a mock race, a race is still a race. Your cards get exposed, your legs take wear, and there’s always the risk of throwing off your condition.

And yet, despite all that, this many participants signed up…

Ah. Must be Nature’s people skills.

Nature has insanely good communication skills—she’s got a lot of friends.

Unlike me, a socially awkward mess with zero charisma, so the theory that Nature invited her friends is pretty convincing.

Still, with this many people… even if we assume a full gate of eighteen runners, a lot of applicants are going to get cut.

Nature is non-negotiable, of course, but I do want to race against other strong horse girls too.

Who should we choose? Or rather… am I even allowed to choose?

I should probably talk it over with my Trainer—the one who never skips his research—

…Huh? Did I just see a familiar name?

Uh, around here somewhere…

—

What!?

"T-Twin Turbo!?"

…At that moment, one of the participants was decided.