Chapter 51: JC, Stagnation, and the Season of the Reincarnated

By mid-October, with autumn already slipping away and the first hints of winter beginning to show, the air had finally turned chilly enough to make Horino Ayumu shudder.

In summer, sweat seeped out and made paperwork hard to manage. In winter, his fingers stiffened so badly that writing or typing became difficult. Changes in temperature inevitably brought trouble, and those troubles dramatically reduced the efficiency of both his self-improvement and his work as a trainer. In that sense, the changing seasons were one of the enemies he would have to contend with for his entire life.

The simplest solution was heating and air conditioning. That was why, during times like these, his usual routine was to avoid going outside as much as possible, shut himself in his room, and become close friends with stacks of documents. But today, it seemed that wouldn’t be an option.

“…Haa.”

The white breath he exhaled toward the sea vanished almost instantly. He tightened his grip on the fishing rod in his hands and glanced at the bucket beside him. Inside was nothing but a little seawater—there wasn’t a single fish in it, not even a shell. To put it bluntly, he’d been completely skunked.

Horino Ayumu had no hobbies. If he had to name one, his work itself might qualify—both hobby and lover. Naturally, he lacked those sentimental human experiences, like taking up fishing after parting with a beloved horse from a past life. Until very recently, his fishing rod had been sealed away in a corner of his room alongside various pieces of Hoshino Wilm and Mihono Bourbon merchandise. The fact that it had suddenly been dragged out again might have surprised the rod itself more than anyone.

And Ayumu wasn’t a genius—he was a hard worker. He didn’t excel at skills that came without experience or study. Perhaps that was why. For the past hour, the rod in his hands hadn’t twitched even once.

“Not a bite…”

The quiet sniffle of his nose echoed faintly in the cold air. Last time, even if it had been beginner’s luck, he’d managed to reel in two fish. Today, there wasn’t the slightest response. Considering his lack of talent, maybe this was only natural—but freezing his body while wasting time without results was starting to wear on him.

Just as irritation began to creep in, a voice called out behind him.

“Nyaha, sorry to keep you waiting~”

He turned to see the speaker: a silver-gray–haired girl with sleepy, drooping eyes. Easygoing as ever, yet carrying an unfathomable air about her, she was an active racing Uma Musume.

The moment she arrived, she unfolded a folding chair beside him without asking permission and sat down. It felt less like casual familiarity and more like an inevitable outcome—and he accepted it just as naturally.

“I’d like to say I wasn’t waiting long, but that’d be a lie. What happened?”

“Sorry, sorry. The dorm manager caught me, you see? Took some time to smooth things over.”

“I see. Then it’s fine.”

“Eeh? What’s with the ‘then’? Even I wouldn’t deliberately show up late, you know~”

“No, I thought maybe there’d been an accident or something. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“…Hmph. Well, fine, I guess.”

She puffed out her lips slightly, set her things down, and began lowering her fishing rod into the water. It looked well used—probably her favorite. The design was chic yet luxurious, leagues apart from Ayumu’s rod, which he’d bought without much thought.

They say a master doesn’t choose his tools, but as Ayumu idly thought that better tools probably did produce better results, she baited the hook, cast it into the sea, and spoke again.

“Doesn’t this kind of feel like a secret rendezvous?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t tell my trainer about this today, and you didn’t tell Wilm-chan or Bourbon-chan either, right? If we’re not careful, won’t we get scolded?”

“Haha. Hoshino Wilm wouldn’t—no, actually… she might.”

“Why are you suddenly losing confidence?”

“I don’t know everything about her. …Besides, today there’s something I need to confirm, even if I get scolded. So it’s fine.”

Listening to the waves slap softly against the breakwater, he fell silent. He needed to ask right away, yet the words wouldn’t come. It was as if he himself didn’t fully believe in this “thing he had to confirm.”

After a short pause, he closed his eyes once, then spoke.

“…First, is it true that you’re planning to run in the Arima Kinen?”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say it’s exactly a fact yet? Whether you can run in the Arima Kinen depends on the fan vote, right? Even if Sei-chan says ‘I wanna run~,’ there’s still a chance I won’t make the cut.”

“There’s no way you’d say you want to run and then not get in.”

“Ahaha, well, maybe~. I guess it’s more accurate to say it’s planned.”

At her confident smile, Ayumu’s lips curved slightly—a rare, gentle expression. He felt a hint of nostalgia for her roundabout, teasing way of phrasing things, deliberately throwing him off balance.

But he quickly pressed his lips together again. This was only the beginning.

His assigned Uma Musume had good compatibility with Seiun Sky. Now that she had awakened to her domain, if he handled her training and race strategy correctly, Sky might not even be a major threat. But if the rumors surrounding the Arima Kinen were true…

Then even his own trainee might be facing something far too dangerous.

“Next—can I ask why you want to run in the Arima Kinen?”

“…Well, I figured it might be about time for Sei-chan to move on. I can’t stay in the Twinkle Series forever; I’ve got to head to the Dream Trophy League. So I thought I’d surprise everyone at the big year-end race and set off one last, huge firework.”

“So this would be your final run.”

“Yep. That’s right.”

He cast a sideways glance at the Uma Musume beside him. He wasn’t good at reading emotions, so he couldn’t see what lay beneath her usual expression. Still, sometimes simply showing concern could be effective—especially with someone as adept at schemes and mind games as this silver-gray–haired girl.

“Is that really all?”

“…What are you getting at?”

He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed her the screen. Several bookmarked news articles were displayed—collections of vague, gossip-like information with questionable accuracy. And yet, there were far too many to dismiss outright.

She twitched an eyebrow, then let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Haaah… couldn’t you wait just a little longer?”

“I’m not saying I can’t wait. I just don’t want to. Getting accurate information as early as possible and doing everything I can—that’s my job as a trainer.”

“In another month, it’ll be officially announced anyway. And until after the Kikuka Sho, you probably can’t tell your trainees either, right? If you do, they might lose focus.”

“That’s true. …But even if I can’t tell them, there are still things I can do.”

“…Hmm. I see.”

She stared at the float bobbing on the surface of the water, clearly dissatisfied. As a self-proclaimed schemer, she didn’t like being outmaneuvered—especially when logic cornered her into giving up information.

Still…

The sea was rough today, and there weren’t many fish. Even fishing felt dull. And besides—what she’d said about receiving strength back at that Tenno Sho hadn’t been a lie.

She let out a small sigh, careful not to let him notice.

The silver-gray–haired Uma Musume never forgot a favor, even if she didn’t say it aloud. And so, to preserve her pride, she spoke.

“It’s true.”

“…From where to where?”

“About those two running. And for what it’s worth, your guess about why I’m running is spot on.”

“I see…”

At that moment, the rod in his hands twitched slightly—but he didn’t react. He didn’t have the mental space to.

It all felt too close to a dream. Learning of a miracle beyond his involvement shook him more than he’d expected—that someone’s wish might have altered the future itself.

“This year’s Arima Kinen… sounds like it’s going to be a race straight out of a dream.”

“The Takarazuka Kinen was pretty stacked too, though.”

By chance, they sighed at the same time, each carrying their own thoughts with it.

And so, for a while after that, the two anglers let their lines hang in the water… but in the end, neither he nor the silver-gray–haired Uma Musume caught a single fish.

By mid-October, with autumn already slipping away and the first hints of winter beginning to show, a black-bay–haired Uma Musume exhaled a small puff of white breath.

“Brr… it’s cold this year. It should still be way warmer than back home, though.”

Thinking that maybe she’d simply grown used to life here after spending so long at Tracen Academy, she climbed the stairs ahead of her. They led to a small mountain temple near the academy—an infamously long, hellish staircase said to number in the hundreds. Even an athletic person would struggle to sprint up it in one go, yet she took it step by step, careful but astonishingly fast, as if it were second nature, all while lost in thought.

“When it gets this cold, you really start craving it, don’t you? Carrot soup. Hot soup, a big hamburger steak, and of course a huge bowl of rice—just shovel it all in…!”

As she muttered dreamily, the stairs suddenly vanished from her field of view—

“Wah—whoa, whoa!”

She slammed on the brakes with a sharp skreee, and right beside her, the trainer waiting at the top pressed the button on his stopwatch.

“36.6 seconds. …You were thinking about something unnecessary again, weren’t you?”

“Ugh…! N-no, I was just thinking it’s kind of cold…”

“And after that?”

“Umm… warm soup, hamburgers, and then rice…”

At the sight of his trainee grinning with an “ehehe,” the trainer let out a quiet sigh. Even though she’d eaten plenty that morning, she was already thinking about her next meal. Or perhaps he was simply wondering where, on that slender frame of hers, all that food actually went.

Setting aside the mystery of the Uma Musume body, he wrote down the time on the printed sheet clipped to his binder and barked out instructions. This wasn’t the time to train her imagination, nor to ponder unanswered questions—it was time to train her legs.

“When we get back, eat as much as you like—no, up to four refills. For now, focus on training!”

“Y-yes!”

“All right, one more!”

“Got it!”

“Hii—!”

She let out a half-joking scream as she dashed back down the stairs. After a brief pause, the thud-thud-thud-thud of her footsteps echoed as she charged back up. The instant she passed in front of him again, he stopped the stopwatch.

The result… wasn’t good.

A crease formed between his brows.

“36.8 seconds. You’re losing your edge—let’s take a break.”

They’d already repeated these stair sprints countless times; fatigue had to be setting in. That was his reasoning—but—

“No, I’m still good! Please, one more!”

“You’re fired up, huh. As a trainer, I’m happy to see it.”

“Of course! It’s my promise… my dream!”

Her black-bay hair swayed as her eyes sparkled brilliantly. At that sight, a wave of bittersweet nostalgia washed through the trainer’s chest.

How long had it been since her eyes had shone like that? Perhaps since the day they first met, right after she arrived at Central Tracen Academy—when she had told him her dream. Like a child, innocent yet utterly serious, she had spoken of a grand dream… one so vast it bordered on the impossible. Her eyes back then had glittered dazzlingly as she spoke of a special tomorrow.

That light had seared itself into his eyes—and his mind. So deeply that he’d blurted out, without thinking, “Sign with me.” That was how their relationship—still continuing to this day—had begun.

But after that, as more and more expectations were piled onto her shoulders, she gradually lost that childlike expression. Innocence gave way to the face of a warrior, and eventually to one worthy of being called a commander-in-chief. She fought while bearing countless burdens. Her path was not a smooth string of victories—it was turbulent, filled with hardship and joy alike. And perhaps because of those trials, she had grown into the person she was now.

What stood here today was no longer just an Uma Musume.

She was the strongest—no, Japan’s finest Uma Musume, standing tall while carrying something as vast as “Japan” itself on her back.

…And precisely because of that, it had been a very long time since he’d seen this expression on her face.

Like a child talking about her dreams—no, like a child eagerly awaiting a dream on the verge of coming true. To see her wearing an expression appropriate for her age again was, to the trainer, a joy beyond measure.

And so, he chose to indulge that boundless enthusiasm.

“All right… then let’s give it our all, Spe.
Our goal this time—first place at the Arima Kinen!”

“Yes! Let’s go!”

Like a child eagerly awaiting a field trip just around the corner, she waited.

The time to fulfill a promise.
And the Uma Musume who would make it come true.

By mid-October, with autumn already slipping away and the first hints of winter beginning to show, the chestnut-haired Uma Musume smiled faintly.

“It’s a little warmer here,” she murmured.

Her footsteps tapped lightly as she walked through the airport. She wasn’t immediately surrounded by reporters—though she did receive a few suspicious glances, nothing more than mild doubt. That was less because her disguise—glasses without lenses and her hair tied back, a transformation that was objectively quite modest—had worked particularly well, and more because of normalcy bias.

There was no way she could be here.

And if she were, surely it would already be all over the news.

That unconscious assumption barely—truly barely—kept her identity from being exposed.

Within that near-miraculous bubble of calm, the chestnut-haired Uma Musume finally spoke.

“…It really has been a long time.”

“Yes. It feels like I’ve finally stepped on my hometown’s soil again,” her trainer replied as she walked beside her.

The response was dry, almost curt, as if brushing aside the sentiment. Rather than taking offense, the Uma Musume let out a small laugh, amused by her trainer’s clumsy way of showing consideration.

“You went back to Japan every now and then, didn’t you, Trainer?”

“Only briefly. Thanks to someone, I’ve been unbelievably busy these past few years.”

“But you had fun, right?”

“…Thanks to someone, yes.”

At the trainer’s wry, involuntary smile, the chestnut-haired Uma Musume laughed from the bottom of her heart.

To walk forward endlessly together with her trainer—that was her greatest wish now. And that wish was already being fulfilled, even as they spoke.

…But if she were allowed two more wishes.

One was to finally fulfill a promise she had once broken.

And the other was to show the people of this country the scenery of her dreams once more.

The day those two wishes would be fulfilled together… was not far off.

“I’m looking forward to the Arima Kinen. It seems the girl they call my successor will be running too.”

“…We’ve done everything we can. All that’s left is for me to trust you.”

“Are you worried?”

“Two thousand five hundred meters is a bit long for you. …Though seeing that girl from the new generation does make me start doubting my own sense of things.”

“But I’m faster, you know?”

“That’s what we’re about to find out.”

Sidestepping her deliberate needling, the trainer resumed walking. First, they had to retrieve the luggage that should already have arrived—both hers and her own.

When it came to errands like this, she couldn’t expect a single thing from her assigned Uma Musume. If she didn’t keep an eye on her, the girl might leave the bags behind and take off running.

Feeling like a mother watching over a particularly troublesome child, the trainer let out a sigh—one she’d long since lost count of. Spend enough years with an Uma Musume who puts running above all else and possesses only a fragment of self-restraint, and you inevitably start treating her that way.

Having neither children nor a marriage, and having spent every year of her so-called prime supporting this chestnut-haired Uma Musume, the trainer felt a faint sense of life’s transience.

…But in one sense, it couldn’t be helped.

After all, the very first person to be utterly captivated by her overwhelming legs was none other than the trainer herself.

“All right, after we pick up the luggage, we’re going shopping.”

“For shoes?”

“How many pairs do you think you brought? Clothes, obviously. If you walk around dressed that conspicuously, the URA folks will chew us out. Why green of all colors?”

“Ehh…”

With an exasperated tug, the trainer pulled along the pouting Uma Musume through the airport. She didn’t seriously resist. If an Uma Musume truly didn’t want to move, no human—trainer or not—could force her.

In other words, this was simply their everyday communication. Familiar, uncomplicated horseplay.

…Still, letting her stay unmotivated wasn’t an option.

With a single sigh, the trainer delivered the killer phrase guaranteed to light a fire under her.

“Come on, pull yourself together. …You’re going to see it here too, aren’t you?”

She snapped upright.

Her eyes sparkled—just like a child’s.

“Yes! Even here, back in Japan, I won’t give up the view from the front!”

And so, very quietly—

The otherworldly presence appeared in Japan once more.