Chapter 56: The First Chiki-Chiki Nickname Announcement Tournament

With the Tenno Sho (Autumn) over, there were less than two weeks until Bourbon’s Begonia Sho, and less than three weeks until Hoshino Wilm’s Japan Cup. Once November rolled around, even Tracen Academy—situated in a relatively warm location—was swept by waves of cold air. It became the season when jackets, scarves, and neck warmers long sealed away in closets began making their return. And in the middle of all that, we were—

"Mihono Bourbon, ten minutes of cooldown. Nice Nature and Rice Shower, drop your pace by one level. Hoshino Wilm, continue as is."

"Under… stood…"

"Damn it, so stamina alone really isn’t enough to win…"

"Haa, haa… ngh, ugh…"

"Suu—… hoo…"

As always, we were hard at work training today too.

Today was Tuesday—a long-awaited joint training session with Nice Nature, and also the very first joint session with Rice Shower. Nature’s trainers weren’t present… or rather, due to various circumstances, they apparently couldn’t make time. Even so, completely entrusting the training to me—should I see that as their usual lack of caution, or as proof that I’d earned that much trust? Either way, I wanted to live up to it. I believed I’d put together the best possible menu, taking full responsibility.

Trainers who don’t possess “App Reincarnation” inevitably develop biased training policies. In particular, Nature’s trainers favored stamina-heavy development. That approach didn’t clash with Nature or Rice themselves, but relying on it alone eventually meant losing races they otherwise could have won. That was why we used joint training like this—to compensate for the stats they tended to neglect.

"…Speed plus one for Nature, power plus one for Rice. Not a bad growth rate."

As for the Nature–Rice camp, I wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on them. Masa, who served as my assistant, was also observing their training “for study”—

"…Ah—"

No, correction. She wasn’t watching the training. She was staring at the documents in her hands.

Something was off about Masa today, and yesterday too. Given her ability, I’d thought she could handle paperwork while still observing training, but right now she was lightly scratching her head, clearly struggling with the stack of documents clipped to her binder. Hmm. I’d deliberately assigned her one of the easier sets, so what exactly was she having trouble with?

Excessive strain only led to waste. Pushing yourself was important as experience, sure—but appropriate load was what truly led to growth. That wasn’t just true for Uma Musume legs. Ideally, I wanted to figure out why Masa was struggling and reduce her load accordingly—

—but the problem was that Masa absolutely hated it if I tried to touch or peek at the work I’d assigned her. She really hated it. I did sneak a glance now and then under the pretext of checking progress, but she’d probably notice soon. Or maybe she already had. She was sharp, after all.

…What should I do about this?

Masa was quite capable—at least from my perspective. A slightly heavy workload might even turn into growth for her. Still, watching a family member struggle weighed on the heart. If possible, I wanted to help.

"Masa, sorry—I might’ve dumped too much work on you. If it’s rough, want me to help?"

"Shut up and be quiet, you idiot big brother. …Just keep an eye on your trainees properly."

"Ah, yes, sir."

Shot down in a single stroke. And to top it off, she was completely right, leaving me with no room to argue.

I turned my gaze back to the Uma Musume running on the dirt track during joint training, but… I tilted my head in confusion. For someone with “App Reincarnation” like me, managing Uma Musume stamina was extremely easy. Just by looking, I could tell how much stamina they had left and the probability of an accident. And Masa, who knew about “App Reincarnation,” should have understood that too.

"Was that just now… sarcasm?"

"I’m telling you to be quiet because I’m concentrating."

"Ah—sorry. I’ll be quiet…"

"…Honestly. You really never change, big brother. Shouldn’t you take care of your own issues before worrying about others?"

Masa sighed and dropped her eyes back to the binder. Her usual attitude made me let out a wry smile.

Masa generally came on strong toward people. Especially back in middle school—it had been so bad that aside from our mother, the only person she opened up to, no one could really approach her. Even now, she was still harsh toward me and Dad… but judging from the past few days, she wasn’t being unfairly strict with the Uma Musume. If anything, she treated them quite carefully. Somehow, realizing that made me happy. My little sister really had grown.

"Alright…"

Still, it was also true that I couldn’t afford to focus only on her. After all, Hoshino Wilm had entrusted me with one unreasonable demand.

---

Let’s rewind to yesterday—Monday.

It was a bitterly cold morning, so I was preparing jerseys, gloves, disposable heat packs, and other cold-weather gear for everyone—including Masa—just in case my trainees forgot theirs, all while getting ready for the morning meeting.

"Trainer, excuse me."

That day, Hoshino Wilm arrived very early—right after me. That was truly rare. Frankly speaking, it was unprecedented.

Hoshino Wilm was terrible in the mornings. Absolutely terrible. She seemed intent on hiding that fact, so I pretended not to notice—but through information gathered from other Uma Musume, I already knew.

They said mornings were dangerous with Hoshino Wilm. If you reached out, you might get bitten. They said she understood her own nature, so she usually stayed holed up in her room, though sometimes she wandered out half-asleep. They said she barely kept her eyes open and staggered as she walked, making you worry—but touching her was dangerous, so no one could do anything. They said if you spoke to her, you’d get some incomprehensible response like "nnyaa…" They said it was the only moment of vulnerability the usually flawless senpai ever showed—and that it was extremely cute.

…Some of that information lacked objectivity, but broadly speaking, that was the gist. Hoshino Wilm was bad in the mornings—slow to wake up, and slow to regain her senses.

Thinking back, when we stayed at a hotel for her Make Debut race at a distant venue, she’d said, "Please don’t come into my room before nine o’clock! You hear me? Absolutely not! Knocking is out too!"

She’d been a bit more curt back then, but that was the gist in today’s Hoshino Wilm terms. I’d never actually seen it myself, but judging from the rumors, she really was… fatally bad in the mornings.

That was why she usually arrived at the morning meeting at the very last minute. The arrival order was practically law: first me, since I had to unlock the trainer’s office; then Masa, who needed to share information with me as sub-trainer; after a short gap, Mihono Bourbon—who somehow was always punctual despite not owning a smartphone or watch; and finally, Hoshino Wilm. That was supposed to be an unbreakable rule.

And yet—Hoshino Wilm arriving before Masa? No way. Was that even possible? Would it rain spears tomorrow? Or was it the end of the world?

…Ah.

For a moment, I was so shocked I forgot who she was. Of course—this was Hoshino Wilm. The Ashen Dragon who overturned the impossible. Even waking up early was something she could make happen…!

Her remarkable growth moved me deeply. Masa, Hoshino Wilm—everyone kept growing while I went on living my lazy life.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t something I could openly praise. If I said something like, "Good job waking up early!" it would reveal that I knew about her weakness in the mornings. I didn’t want things to spiral into, "I was hiding that—how do you know? You’re creepy, please terminate the contract." Not that it would actually go that far, but considering the worst-case scenario, directly praising her was best avoided.

Still, a trainer who didn’t acknowledge effort wasn’t a trainer at all. At the very least, I could greet her warmly so she’d feel comfortable entering the room.

"Good morning, Hoshino Wilm. It’s chilly, but the sunlight feels nice this mor—"

The moment the door slid open with a rattle and I saw Hoshino Wilm beyond it, I froze mid-sentence.

Because Hoshino Wilm was… frowning slightly, lips tightly pressed together, cheeks puffed out in a sulk.

…This was bad. She was in a bad mood.

"Uh… Hoshino Wilm? Did something… happen?"

"Something…?"

"Like—did something unpleasant happen? If there’s anything bothering you, please talk to me—"

"…………"

Oh no—her cheeks puffed out even more.

Through countless past scoldings and close calls, I’d developed a sense for Hoshino Wilm’s anger. And that sense told me—she was fairly irritated right now. At the very least, she was trying to make it look that way toward me.

"Trainer."

"Y-Yes."

"There’s something I’d like to ask. Do you have a moment right now?"

"Of course. For my trainee—no, for you, I’ll make as much time as you need."

…Ah. Her mood lifted just a little. At least I hadn’t chosen a fatal line there. Naturally, conversations that flowed smoothly didn’t usually make someone angrier.

Now then—the real question was what exactly she was angry about.

Hoshino Wilm, whose core nature was fundamentally kind, didn’t take her frustrations out on others. Even when she felt anger, she didn’t direct it at unrelated people. …Well, lately she’d started indulging me a little in that regard, but this felt genuine, so that probably wasn’t it.

Which meant that if she was directing this irritation straight at me, there was a high chance I’d done something I absolutely shouldn’t have—as far as she was concerned.

And yet, I had no recollection of that. No—usually when Hoshino Wilm got mad at me, I didn’t have much of a clue, but this time I genuinely had nothing.

…What now? Should I just apologize for now?

"Uh… Hoshino Wilm. If I’ve done something to upset you—"

I sat down across from Hoshino Wilm, who was already seated on the sofa, and tried to bow my head in apology—but—

"Hoshino Wilm."

She called her own name.

The words were cold, as if coated in frost.

…But that was only on the surface.

Strip that surface away, and beneath it simmered a clear, boiling heat. That heat was called dissatisfaction.

"Why do you call me Hoshino Wilm?"

"Eh—well, sorry, I don’t really know the origin of your name—"

Hoshino Wilm smiled.

A very beautiful smile.

"Trainer. Why do you call me Hoshino Wilm?"

"I-I mean, that’s your name, right? So I call you Hoshino Wilm—"

"Oh, really…"

The corners of her mouth lifted.

"Then why do you call McQueen-senpai just ‘McQueen’?"

"…Huh?"

I am a reincarnator.

I carried memories from my past life, along with the same personality. And most importantly—I still retained my memories of the app I’d played in that previous life: Uma Musume Pretty Derby.

The reason I was sorting all this out now was because my past-life awareness and my current-life awareness were still tangled together inside me.

In my previous life, Uma Musume had been a game. Because of that, I’d recognized the girls as fictional characters, and I’d casually called them by nicknames.

Special Week was Spe. Seiun Sky was Unsu or Sky. And Mejiro McQueen was McQueen, or Mejo-McQueen.

But in a world where Uma Musume truly existed and lived, calling someone you had no relationship with by a nickname, without honorifics, right to their face would mark you as either a low-class fan—or a complete weirdo. Even among Central trainers, the standard was to use full names for Uma Musume you weren’t close to, especially when they were present.

The problem was that I wasn’t competent enough to flawlessly switch how I addressed people depending on whether they were present or not.

That was why I’d forbidden myself from using nicknames altogether. As a rule, I always used full names.

Still, habits from a past life weren’t so easy to erase. Even now, inside my head, I still referred to the girls by nicknames—or rather, abbreviations.

It had become deeply ingrained. Even when I tried to fix it, it didn’t go away easily.

I’d figured that as long as I didn’t say anything out loud, it wouldn’t matter. After all, no one could see inside my head—

"Uh… are you sure you didn’t mishear? I don’t recall ever calling Mejiro McQueen that."

"No, I heard it. Yesterday, during the Tenno Sho—you definitely said it."

"Ah…"

Crap.

Now that she mentioned it, yesterday I’d been far too focused on the race. I’d also been exhausted from preparing materials for Masa, so it wasn’t impossible that something slipped out.

No—scratch that. Something definitely slipped out.

I screwed up.

Even if it wasn’t particularly dangerous, depending on how things unfolded, it could have turned into an issue of trust. The fact that it was Hoshino Wilm who noticed—someone I’d already built a solid relationship with—was probably the best possible outcome.

"…Well. I suppose it’s fine to tell you. But please don’t tell anyone else—people or Uma Musume alike."

"So it’s a secret, just between the two of us."

"Y-Yeah, something like that."

…Why did she seem a little happier all of a sudden?

Ah—right. Girls did tend to like sharing secrets, didn’t they?

Anyway, while her mood was improving, I needed to explain things—even if that meant mixing in a small lie.

"Well… you see. A lot of Uma Musume have long names, right? Mejiro McQueen, Tokai Teio—things like that."

"Well… I suppose they are long."

"You might think it’s a negligible difference, but when I’m thinking things through, long names take a bit more time to process. When I’m speaking normally it’s fine, but inside my head, I often shorten names for efficiency. It’s just about optimizing workflow.

Yesterday… I don’t remember it myself, but I probably let it slip because I thought no one would hear."

Not bad, if I said so myself.

A bit forced, sure—but no obvious logical holes. This should be enough to bluff my way—

"That’s a lie, isn’t it?"

"…What?"

"Trainer, you’re really bad at lying. It’s obvious."

…I cursed my lack of acting ability.

Still, admitting it was a lie wasn’t an option.

I had no intention of telling anyone that I was a reincarnator. That would only invite suspicion and unnecessary complications. Hoshino Wilm was no exception.

No—precisely because it was her, I couldn’t tell her.

I wanted to continue being her trainer. That had become my absolute guiding principle.

And if I was going to continue being her trainer, maintaining a good relationship took priority over everything else.

I was sorry—but no matter what, even if she used her “reward privilege,” I couldn’t tell her about reincarnation.

It was for the sake of our relationship.

I hoped she could forgive me.

"…Hmm."

That being the case, how should I smooth this over?

If I lied outright, she’d see right through it. But a half-baked excuse wouldn’t fool her either.

As I closed my eyes and thought it over—

"Well, that part’s fine."

"Huh? It is?"

"You really do call Uma Musume by nicknames in your head, right? It’s not like McQueen-senpai is some special exception."

"That’s true."

"…I see. Then that’s fine."

She let out a breath, as if relieved, and lowered her gaze.

…Ah. I get it now.

"So you thought I cared more about Mejiro McQueen than I do about you?"

"W-What? Well, yeah, I thought that! Is that a problem or something?"

"No, not really. But don’t worry—so far, there isn’t a single Uma Musume I’ve favored more than you."

"I-I see. Well… if that’s the case, then it’s fine, I guess…"

She looked away, her cheeks flushing just a little.

Seeing that, I narrowed my eyes slightly.

Honestly, watching her makes me feel… strange somehow.

She’s usually expressionless, then sometimes she flashes an awkward smile, and—

…Huh?

Why did I just feel nostalgic looking at her?

What was that? Déjà vu? I remember my past life pretty clearly, and I’ve never met Hoshino Wilm before. If I’d ever encountered a girl this distinctive, there’s no way I’d forget her.

…Well, these kinds of illusions happen sometimes.

Maybe she showed up in a dream a day or two ago and I just don’t remember.

I was thinking all that vaguely, relieved that Hoshino Wilm’s anger—or rather, her angry act meant to interrogate me—seemed to be over, when—

"By the way, what do you call me in your head?"

"Huh?"

"Is it Wilm? Or maybe…"

"No. Hoshino Wilm is Hoshino Wilm."

"What?"

---

…And that’s how, after that, a genuinely sulking Hoshino Wilm ordered me—without joking even a little—to give her a nickname.

The deadline was the next day. In other words, today’s evening meeting after training.

"A nickname, huh…"

Being told to come up with one properly made it surprisingly difficult.

Nicknames usually came from spur-of-the-moment vibes and then stuck. Trying to invent one deliberately, without that natural flow, was tough.

On top of that, this was the name I’d be using for my own trainee. Even if it was only in my head, I couldn’t just slap something random onto it.

The difficulty was comparable to naming a child.

It had to relate to Hoshino Wilm’s name, be something she could accept, and still feel unique.

…Trying to satisfy all those conditions at once made the problem about as hard as proposing a brand-new Uma Musume training theory.

"…Hmm."

I’d already come up with two candidates, but I wasn’t confident Hoshino Wilm would approve. To be safe, I wanted at least two more.

As I kept thinking, time slipped by faster than I realized.

Joint training ended, and Nature and Rice were picked up by their respective trainers. I went over upcoming schedules with Hoshino Wilm and Bourbon, handed Masa the materials I’d prepared the previous night—prompting her to fall inexplicably silent—and then asked Hoshino Wilm to stay behind for a bit.

Soon, it was just the two of us in the trainer’s office.

"Alright, then. Let’s hear it. The nickname you came up with for me."

She sat on the sofa, while I stood in front of the whiteboard. It felt like a presentation.

…Except the tension was nothing like the last interim trainer presentation.

This time, my trust and prestige as a trainer were on the line.

Failure was not an option.

I cleared my throat once and began.

"Now then, I will begin the presentation of Hoshino Wilm’s abbreviated name. This time, the primary target audience is Hoshino Wilm herself, with an emphasis on approachability while preserving the individuality of Hoshino Wilm as an Uma Musume—"

"You can skip that. Just announce it already."

"Y-Yes."

My entire introduction was rejected, so I moved on without delay.

"I’ve prepared four nickname candidates. I’d like you to choose whichever one you prefer."

"Four…"

"Yes. To be honest, I don’t have much naming sense. I don’t know if any of these will satisfy you, but… let’s start with the first one."

I ran the marker across the whiteboard and wrote down the first candidate.

"‘Hoshino’…?"

"Yes. The part that functions as a kind of family prefix. ‘Hoshino’ isn’t very common, so it should be distinctive and easy to recognize."

A prefix name would be something like “Mejiro” or “Symboli”—a shared surname-like element among related Uma Musume.

In my past life, I thought it referred to a specific word owners used when naming their racehorses.

I hadn’t been very knowledgeable about horse racing back then, so my understanding was vague, but essentially, Uma Musume who shared a prefix in this world had belonged to the same owner in the past.

The problem was that prefixes like “Mejiro” or “Symboli” applied to a lot of Uma Musume.

If you called out “Mejiro-san” around the Mejiro family, Mejiro McQueen, Mejiro Ryan, Mejiro Ardan, Mejiro Palmer, Mejiro Dober, and Mejiro Ramonu would all turn around at once.

…Actually, now that I thought about it, that was way too many. That owner in my past life really had been something else.

But “Hoshino” was extremely rare. There might be others out there, but I’d never seen one.

So I thought it wouldn’t be a bad choice—but…

"Hmm… I think this one’s out."

"What? Why?"

"Well… I’ve never done it myself, but with this body type, a katakana-style name like that feels like the slot’s already taken. Or like… it’s hot even when you’re not moving."

I didn’t really understand, but apparently it was a no-go. It had honestly been my strongest candidate, so that hurt.

I erased it quickly with the back of the marker and wrote the next one.

"Then how about this."

"‘Shinorum’…? What is that, a new Pokémon?"

"Hoshino Wilm. In terms of originality, this one’s probably the best."

"Trainer, are you the type who abbreviates Hydro Pump as ‘Dro Pump’? Rejected."

"Mm. I thought Shinorum was cute…"

"Cute—well, it’s not terrible, I guess. But I am still a girl, you know. A name that sounds like a Steel/Fairy-type Pokémon is a bit much…"

Another rejection. I really liked Shinorum. It sounded like a middle-stage evolution or a mythical Pokémon.

"Alright, third one."

"‘Dragon-chan’… haven’t you completely given up?"

"This was the limit of my brain after pulling an all-nighter."

"What? An all-nighter? Trainer, are you pushing yourself again?"

"Uh—sorry, that was a lie. I didn’t actually stay up all night."

I thought I’d slept for about thirty minutes. My sense of time was shot, and I’d apparently dozed off mid-work, so I wasn’t entirely sure.

"…Hmm. You’re not lying, but you’re not telling the whole truth either.

Well, I’ll interrogate you about that later. Next."

Having each one shot down so mercilessly was honestly crushing my spirit. I’d spent around thirty-five hours thinking these through ever since she’d gotten mad at me yesterday.

…Well, the real problem was probably my complete lack of naming sense—taking thirty-five hours just to come up with four options. Haha.

Still, that meant only the last one remained. And judging by how this had been going, there was no way it wouldn’t get rejected too.

It wasn’t that she could dislike this name—that much was obvious.

But at the same time, it was a little too special. Worse, it completely lacked originality. Depending on how she took it, there was even a chance she’d get angry.

That was precisely why I’d wanted to settle things with the first option, “Hoshino.”

But at this point, staying silent wasn’t an option.

Screw it—here goes.

"The last one is… "Wilm.""

Yes.

That was the final nickname candidate.

"Wilm."

A name she allowed only one person to call her—Nice Nature, the Uma Musume who had taken a liking to her at first sight and stayed close ever since. No, not just stayed close—communicated with her, and now stood as her closest friend.

It wasn’t a title like “The Serpent” or “The Ashen Dragon,” but her one and only nickname. A name that didn’t refer to Hoshino Wilm the racehorse Uma Musume, but to Hoshino Wilm the individual.

…No, yeah. The more I thought about it, the more nonsensical it felt.

I’d brought it up purely as filler because I couldn’t think of anything else. To be blunt, this was probably a name she reserved for people she was especially close to.

She and I were trainer and racehorse Uma Musume. There was a line we shouldn’t cross.

"Sorry. On second thought—"

"Do you want to call me that?"

She cut in before I could finish.

When I looked at her, Hoshino Wilm was staring at me with a gaze that was hard to define.

The emotions faintly visible there were expectation, tension—maybe even anxiety.

"Do you want to call me Wilm?"

What was this? What kind of answer was she expecting?

No matter what she wanted to hear, I couldn’t afford to get this wrong. I was her trainer. I was supposed to draw a clear line—

…No.

That wasn’t it.

I think that was exactly where I’d gone wrong.

The image of her pale expression resurfaced in my mind.

The choice I’d made so carefully from the perspective of being a proper trainer had been the wrong answer for her.

The relationship between a trainer and an Uma Musume varied from pair to pair. Every one of them was unique. There wasn’t a single identical example.

An answer that had been correct in countless past cases could become a fatal mistake for one specific Uma Musume.

That was the nature of this relationship.

That was why she’d told me to find my own answer.

So then—what was my answer?

What kind of relationship did Hoshino Wilm and I have, and what was the right response here?

…I didn’t know.

There was no way the me of right now—the me living here and now—could know the correct answer.

But still—

What exactly had she asked me?

"Do you want to call me Wilm?"

…Right.

She hadn’t asked what I should do.

From the very beginning, that was never the question.

"I do."

"Eh?"

"I want to. If that’s the way those closest to you call you, then I want to call you that too."

…Honestly, that didn’t sound like me at all.

When had I become this greedy?

Even being her trainer was probably more than I deserved—and yet, to want to be close to her on top of that…

It could have been a careless desire. One that might even lead to disappointment.

But—

It seemed that, for Hoshino Wilm, this wasn’t a wrong answer either.

"…Heh. I see. I see.

Well then, I suppose it can’t be helped. Given the relationship between you and me, Trainer, I’ll allow it.

No—actually, please call me that. In fact, when it’s just the two of us, call me Will. I won’t accept anything else."

Hoshino Wilm broke into a loose, utterly unguarded grin, and before I realized it, the corners of my own mouth lifted in response.

…Thinking a clumsy, awkward smile was “cute” instead of preferring a beautiful one.

Maybe I’d already been influenced more than I thought—by her way of seeing the world.