Chapter 160: Red Face Gray Dragon

The day of our overseas departure finally arrived for Hoshino Wilm and me.

Early that morning, I went to pick her up at the dormitory. Amid incomprehensible groans of "Muu… nngh!", Wilm resisted as I forcibly peeled the towel blanket off her.

I carried her out from the futon where she had curled up against the cold.

Still almost completely unconscious, I hoisted her onto my back and transported her by force.

Step by step, I loaded her into the car, and with Masa driving, we headed for the airport.

"...Big brother, that looked seriously criminal just now. I thought you were kidnapping her."

"I merely carried out my duties as a trainer."

By the time we arrived at the airport, Wilm had fully regained consciousness, her ears twitching cutely.

She looked restless—clearly nervous. Yet at the same time, her tail swished back and forth, betraying her excitement for what lay ahead.

"Phew… Come to think of it, it’s been forever since I last left Japan."

"...Hm? I thought you’d never been outside Japan before?"

"Ah—ah! Right, yes. I meant it’s been a while since long-distance travel."

"You went as far as Hanshin not long ago."

"By airplane! The last time was when we went to Hokkaido in spring!"

Wilm hurriedly patched together an excuse.

Suspicious. Extremely suspicious.

…Honestly, wasn’t this basically confirmation she was a reincarnator?

That definitely sounded like she had meant including her previous life.

At this point, my internal hypothesis that Wilm was reincarnated was approaching certainty.

Still… there was no need to point it out.

The secrets she carried—the memories she possessed—weren’t things to pry from her. She could speak about them when she wished.

Besides, even if she truly was reincarnated, nothing would change.

If those long memories helped shape the Hoshino Wilm I now trained, then they were something to be grateful for—not deny.

After waiting for some time beneath the gaze of many fans gathered at the airport, the moment of departure finally arrived.

Then, all at once, the group that had been hiding until now burst out—Chairwoman Akikawa, Tazuna-san, fellow trainers and acquaintances, Teio, Nature, Turbo, and Wilm’s admiring juniors—seeing us off beneath a banner reading "Hoshino Wilm — Certain Victory!"

Wilm returned their smiles at first, but as we approached boarding, perhaps remembering the day she left Hokkaido years ago, she wiped away happy tears.

"...Hehe. This time… so many people came to see me off."

At the same time, I felt it deeply—just how many people were supporting us.

Renewing my resolve, I steeled myself once more.

And so, the plane carrying Wilm and me quietly departed Japan.

---

…Now then.

After that emotional send-off—something straight out of a final conversation before facing the last boss—we boarded the aircraft in high spirits…

Do you happen to know how long it takes to fly from Japan to France?

The answer: twelve to thirteen hours.

Roughly half a day.

Wilm rushed to the window the moment we entered, staring outside with sparkling eyes at the endless sky.

But the vast heavens and dreams of the future held her attention for about twenty minutes.

Once we passed the clouds and cruising altitude stabilized, she wore a slightly dissatisfied expression.

"I’m bored. I’ve run out of things to do."

Her drooping ears and utterly pitiful expression made me chuckle.

She really never changed. …Though honestly, that side of her made it easier for me to relax. I liked it.

"About what I expected. Once you’re airborne, the scenery stops changing. We’ve got plenty of ways to pass the time… but how about we just talk first?"

"Yes, let’s!"

She lightly bounced on the bed and crawled over beside the chair I was sitting in.

I wondered what topic to bring up—

—but Wilm spoke first.

"Still, airplanes these days are amazing! This is basically a hotel!"

She patted the bed she was lounging on.

And she wasn’t wrong.

The spacious bed she sprawled across could easily fit three people lying down.

Beside it were two ergonomically designed chairs.

Neither of us had paid much attention to it earlier, but a large monitor quietly played the morning news.

There was no bathroom and the space was still limited—but it was more comfortable than many hotels.

"It’s a suite room. Hard to use without connections. Apparently they’ve started offering limited public bookings recently."

"Heeey… Being from a prestigious family really helps at times like this, huh? By the way—how much did this cost?"

"About five hundred—round trip."

"Five hundred!? …Though honestly, it’s scary how my sense of money’s gotten so broken lately that it doesn’t even sound that expensive anymore…"

Earning five million yen wasn’t particularly difficult for her anymore.

Compared to her income, she lived quite modestly outside racing expenses. Even if not a weekly indulgence, using this as a once-every-six-months reward wouldn’t be unreasonable.

Though in this case, I was paying for everything.

After all, this might be her one and only challenge at the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe.

Better to arrive able to stretch freely than endure twelve hours cramped in a narrow seat.

Reducing stress during overseas expeditions was critical.

"Even if it’s a suite, we’re still inside precision machinery flying through the sky. If you start rampaging at full power, it might affect navigation. Keep movement to stretching, alright?"

"I’m not that lacking in common sense. …Well! Provided Ayumu keeps me entertained!"

"Then we’ll be fine. Twelve hours goes by faster than you think."

---

Two years ago, when I first began working with Wilm, I had no idea what to talk about with her.

We could discuss racing endlessly—but honestly, that was all we had.

Back then, Wilm desperately wanted to win races, and I was equally desperate to become worthy as Hoshino’s trainer. Neither of us had the emotional room to bridge that gap.

…Looking back, that lack of composure as an adult is embarrassing enough to make me want to crawl into a hole.

But by a year ago, things had eased.

Wilm escaped that cold world completely after the Takarazuka Kinen, and I resolved to abandon my former way of life to remain her trainer.

As a result… we grew close enough to handle casual conversation.

Her hospitalization helped most. Spending nearly a month talking every day taught me how to actually hold conversations with her.

…So now?

Our current distance looked something like this:

"So then, Teio says, ‘But if Wilm draws it, it’s definitely a losing pull.’ Isn’t that rude? I’m an eight-crown Uma Musume! First-ever back-to-back Takarazuka wins and Spring Senior titles! The strongest in the world!"

"That has nothing to do with lottery draws… So? Did you pull?"

"I did."

"And?"

"………Seven total. E-Prize and F-Prize."

"I figured."

"One more try! One more and I definitely would’ve gotten the A-Prize!!"

"Where does that completely baseless confidence come from?"

Wilm flailed noisily atop my lap in full brat mode.

Still, she wasn’t using her full Uma Musume strength—only about as much force as an ordinary girl.

She had enough self-control to hold back.

Very good. Since she’d behaved, she deserved a reward.

"Alright, alright. Here—have a grape."

I held one from the side table near her mouth.

She muttered, "Hm," maintaining what looked like a sulky expression—though she utterly failed to hide how pleased she actually was—as she bit into it.

"Mmph… Oh, you can eat the skin too?"

"Yes."

"Mmm. Easy to eat, seedless, perfectly balanced sweetness and acidity… this is really delicious. Is this fancy too?"

"Of course."

For Uma Musume—who tended to dislike confinement or restricted movement—the inside of an airplane could be a major source of stress.

They possessed strong rationality compared to horses from my previous world, so they could endure it to some degree…

…but twelve hours was another matter entirely.

One of the greatest difficulties of overseas expeditions was the stress accumulated before competition even began.

Which was why I had prepared the highest-quality services possible to minimize Wilm’s stress during this flight.

These grapes, premium sweets suited to her tastes, proper in-flight meals—everything had been carefully selected.

And beyond food and comfort, I intended to accommodate her however she wished during the journey.

…Still.

Was this situation really acceptable?

"By the way, Wilm."

"Mmnh—what is it?"

"...Is my lap pillow really… good?"

At the moment, I was sitting awkwardly on the bed—the very space I had originally intended to leave entirely to Wilm—legs stretched out after being practically forced down.

And resting atop those legs was Wilm’s head.

In short…

A lap pillow.

Of course, this wasn’t something I initiated. Wilm had insisted, saying, "The pillow doesn’t suit me!"

Personally, I was convinced my lap would suit her even less—but contrary to my expectations, she adjusted slightly and answered calmly.

"It’s nice… or rather, it’s warm. More than anything, it feels calming. Ah, and for the record, I’d like to continue. I’ll stop if your legs go numb though, Ayumu-san."

"Eeeh…"

"What’s with that reaction? Already numb?"

"No, that part’s fine."

Still… how should I put this?

I’d been exposed to plenty of so-called otaku media in my previous life, so I understood the appeal of lap pillows in theory…

But being the one providing it was honestly surprising.

Wasn’t this usually something women were asked to do?

Who exactly benefited from a guy’s lap pillow?

Besides, I worked out regularly. There was no way my thighs were soft.

And objectively speaking, wasn’t this too high to function as a pillow?

Also—I’d appreciate it if she stopped quietly sniffing. That was embarrassing.

"Well, I’ll do it if you want, but… really?"

"W-What’s with that look!? You’re staring at me like you’re exhausted from indulging your spouse’s weird fetish! …Wait. Thinking about it calmly, am I being a terrible woman forcing my preferences onto you?"

"I don’t feel any rejection toward it. I’m just confused whether something like this is actually enjoyable."

"You don’t understand the appeal of lap pillows?"

"I think I do, somewhat. But actually doing it myself makes me wonder… is this really comfortable? Usually women are the ones being asked."

"Oh? Then do you want to be the one lying down? Here."

The moment she said that, Wilm sprang upright, stretched out her legs, and lightly patted her lap.

Dangerously dazzling knees.

Honestly, considering her age, touching them carelessly might qualify as an actual crime.

Uma Musume didn’t tan much even under strong sunlight.

Despite training outdoors year-round, Wilm’s skin remained as pale as snow.

—Wait, that wasn’t the point.

"You realize competitive Uma Musume knees are basically professional assets, right? And using Hoshino Wilm’s lap as a pillow would make this some absurd luxury item—"

"Should we stop?"

"...Since you’re offering, I’ll gladly accept."

She clearly wanted this too, so at this point, embarrassment could be discarded as travel shame.

Though technically, the journey had only just begun.

Normally I’d worry about onlookers—but there were none here today.

So, I rested my head on her lap.

Meeting Wilm’s slightly nervous gaze as she looked down at me, I muttered quietly.

"...Small."

"What!? What do you mean!? Depending on your answer, I’m prepared to pursue legal action!"

"No, I mean the lap space. Leaning on you like this really reminds me how small you are."

"A-Ah… that. Well, physically, I am pretty small.

…You just thought my chest was small too, didn’t you!?"

"That’s some intense victim mentality."

Uma Musume physiques varied widely.

Among them, Wilm belonged to the smallest category.

At 145 centimeters tall, she was numerically the same height as Rice Shower.

Whenever Wilm interacted with Rice, she tended to act like a senior—but from an outsider’s perspective, it simply looked like two girls of the same age doing their best.

Which was adorable in its own way.

Honestly, compared to Rice, Wilm might even lose in apparent height due to ear size alone.

Wilm’s ears were large for her build—but Rice’s were exceptional even among Uma Musume.

"Still… there’s barely room to move my head. And it’s firm. Much firmer than expected. Also higher."

"Complaints already!? Isn’t this where you’re supposed to compliment me!?"

"But… somehow, it’s calming. Maybe it’s the warmth of another person. And the scent of someone familiar."

"Ah—hey! Don’t sniff! Haven’t you heard of maidenly modesty!?"

"You were sniffing my lap earlier."

"You noticed!?"

Hard not to notice when she’d been that absorbed.

Was my scent really that pleasant?

Well, I’d always taken care of my hygiene even before meeting Wilm, so at least it shouldn’t be unpleasant.

…Or perhaps scents associated with someone you cared about simply felt comforting.

I understood the logic.

Experiencing it personally, however, was an entirely different matter.

---

Letting the lap pillow continue any longer only seemed to raise Wilm’s excitement level, so I ended it at an appropriate moment.

Compared to others, she was normally quite composed—but the more she bottled things up, the more explosive she became once she finally relaxed.

If she started rampaging inside an airplane, it would be dangerous—not to mention troublesome for passengers and crew.

That kind of energy could wait until we arrived somewhere private.

With that decided, I moved to get off the bed and return to my chair—

"...Are you leaving?"

"Hm? We can keep talking, of course."

"...I want to talk closer. Closer than that."

I was trapped.

A contracted trainer was helpless against the dejected expression of his assigned Uma Musume.

Still…

Wasn’t Wilm unusually excited today?

To be fair, I was pretty excited myself—but even compared to that, she seemed far more energized than usual.

Normally, she would never say something like this.

Well, for her, this was her first overseas trip—at least in this life.

Flying above the clouds in a suite rarely used by ordinary passengers…

And more importantly, the absolute certainty that no one could see us—a situation we had almost never experienced in the past three years.

Perhaps all these unreal circumstances had lifted her spirits.

Either way…

If this was what Wilm wanted, then I had little choice but to follow her lead.

…Still, Wilm, could you please stop clinging to my left arm?

Even if no one else was around, an adult casually allowing physical contact with a middle-division student came with… various complications.

More importantly—being completely honest—I was still human.

When the trainee I cared about in more ways than one clung to me like this… remaining entirely unaffected wasn’t exactly possible.

Embarrassing as that was to admit.

That said, I was once Hoshino’s trainer.

I had reasonable confidence in my self-control.

Maintaining my composure through sheer force of will, I straightened my expression and sat properly on the bed again.

"Hehe… Ayumu-san, you’re actually happy about this too, aren’t you?"

Apparently, I hadn’t maintained it at all.

…Well, if she had already noticed, there was no helping it.

"Hm? Of course I’m happy. There’s no way I wouldn’t be happy being close to you. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind staying like this forever."

"Th-That’s… isn’t that a little too honest? Aren’t you supposed to deny it out of embarrassment or something?"

"Even if it were a lie or an excuse, I don’t want to deny how I feel when I’m with you."

"Ugh… y-you really never change in moments like this, Ayumu-san! You probably say things like that to everyone, don’t you!?"

"...? No. You’re the only one I say things like this to."

"Ughhhhh!!"

Flustered beyond recovery, Wilm tightened her grip, wrapping both arms firmly around mine.

And so, seated side by side on the bed, leaning against each other, we spent several hours talking endlessly.

---

The plane had originally been scheduled to depart Japan at 9:30 a.m.

In the end, delays pushed takeoff to 10:30.

The flight to France would take a little over twelve hours.

Which meant that, by our physical sense of time, arrival would be sometime past 11:00 p.m.

…However.

There was an eight-hour time difference between Japan and France, with Japan ahead.

As a result, our arrival in Paris would actually be just after 4:00 p.m. local time.

"Mmn…"

About an hour before landing, Wilm’s eyelids began to droop.

Her usual bedtime was around 10:30 to 11:00 p.m., followed by seven hours of sleep before her morning run.

In other words, this was normally when she would already be asleep.

On top of that, she had apparently been too excited to sleep much the previous night, and today’s unusually high spirits had finally worn her out.

Her drowsiness had reached its limit.

Even though bright daylight still stretched beyond the window, her body clock remained impressively accurate.

Truthfully, I could feel fatigue creeping in myself—still manageable, but noticeable.

Normally, I would have let Wilm sleep properly.

But this time, that wasn’t an option.

After all, this was Hoshino Wilm—the strongest Uma Musume in the world, and currently the most popular one alive.

If someone like her arrived overseas, racing fans and supporters would inevitably gather at the airport just to catch a glimpse.

Even in Japan—where people regularly saw her—departure day had drawn enormous crowds. In France, the attention would be even greater.

No—not would be.

Almost certainly already was.

Even now, one hour before arrival, the airport was probably overflowing with people.

And mixed among those fans would almost certainly be reporters and media crews.

Every expression she showed, every word she spoke, would spread across France instantly.

Celebrities couldn’t afford to appear vulnerable in public.

And Uma Musume possessed idol-level popularity.

Revealing Wilm’s absolutely disastrous just-woke-up face to the world would be nothing short of catastrophic.

So while I couldn’t let her fall into deep sleep—

"Wilm, get about thirty minutes of sleep. I’ll wake you at the right time."

Sleep under thirty minutes allowed someone to wake smoothly without heavy grogginess.

Sometimes you wouldn’t even feel like you had slept—only that the sleepiness had faded.

Back then, I had even divided sleep into three thirty-minute sessions across morning, afternoon, and night.

Thinking about it now felt oddly nostalgic.

This should let Wilm shake off enough fatigue before landing in France.

Whether my words registered or not, Wilm shifted weakly and collapsed onto the bed—

"Whoa—"

—still refusing to release my left arm.

"H-Hey, Wilm—"

"Ayumu-san… together…"

Half-asleep, she murmured faintly, eyes already closed.

This was bad. In several ways.

"Wilm, I’ll sit over in that chair—"

"...Reward ticket…"

"You really played your trump card carelessly there."

I’d been defeated.

The “Reward Ticket” was effectively her absolute command authority over me.

If she invoked it, I had to grant her request—as long as it was within my ability.

Even if spoken in her sleep.

And this time… frankly speaking, there was little justification for refusing.

There were no witnesses, and her request amounted only to lying beside her.

As long as I did nothing beyond that, there would be no issue.

"...Fine. Just sleeping beside you. That’s all."

I raised one hand in surrender—as much as I could while restrained.

Giving up, I lay down beside her.

The next thirty minutes were spent absentmindedly stroking her head and staring at the ceiling.

…Incidentally, my left arm—unconsciously hugged by Wilm the entire time—came dangerously close to dislocation.

The grip strength of an Uma Musume without conscious restraint was genuinely terrifying.

---

As a side note—

The following day, news broadcasts across France widely reported Wilm’s arrival.

And apparently, some viewers noticed that her face looked unusually red upon landing… which became a minor topic of discussion.