Chapter 69: Your Catastrophes

"Trainer… was in an accident?"

At first, I couldn’t understand what I was being told. The familiar voice coming through my phone calmly informed me that my trainer had been in a traffic accident.
…I still couldn’t understand it.

It’s true—I’d had a bad feeling. Last night, in the middle of a phone call with my trainer, the conversation suddenly cut off. He had said, "Will, sorry," and then the call wouldn’t go through anymore.

But… but surely that just meant something urgent had come up. There was nothing strange about that.
…There couldn’t be.

"Please listen calmly, Hoshino Wilm-san. My older brother was involved in a traffic accident last night and was taken to the hospital unconscious."

…Masa-san’s voice forced an unreal reality onto me.

---

I have no memory of what happened for a while after hearing that. Before I knew it, I was peering down at Ayumu-san’s face as he lay asleep in a hospital bed.

His face wasn’t twisted in pain, nor was it unnaturally pale. His expression was calm and peaceful, and his complexion still carried warmth and color. There were places where gauze had been applied—likely covering some injuries—but aside from that, everything looked normal. He breathed steadily, peacefully, as if he were simply in a deep sleep.

His breathing was normal. His body temperature was steady. His blood was clearly circulating.
He was alive. Without a doubt, he was alive, right here.

But… he wouldn’t wake up.

"One might call it a stroke of luck, given the circumstances. During the collision with the car, he likely curled his body instinctively. Aside from abrasions in several places, there are no major external injuries, and no fractures. If he rests for about a month, his physical injuries should heal completely. However… perhaps due to the strong impact to the head, he hasn’t regained consciousness since last night. In the worst case, we must consider the possibility that he may remain in a coma."

"…There’s still a chance he could wake up soon, right?"

"Of course. …However, with a mild concussion, patients often regain consciousness within two or three hours, so we believe it’s best to prepare for any outcome."

"I see… you’re right. I’m sorry."

"There’s no need to apologize. Please try to stay strong…"

The words spoken behind me barely registered. All that existed in front of me was Ayumu-san’s unmoving face.

He might… never come back.

He might never call my name again. Never pat my head. Never train me. Never show me his clumsy side.
…Never be with me again.

And I might never be able to do those things again.

Confronted with that fear, I finally…

"Trai… ner…"

I finally understood.

I like running. More accurately, I came to like it.

My father cursed me with words that bound me like a spell, and I became obsessed with winning—with never losing. But thanks to Ayumu-san, I learned how wide the world really was, how fun it could be to run, and I was able to break free. Ever since then, I thought I’d been running not because I had to, but because it was something I wanted to do.

…That’s what I thought.

But I was wrong.

What I’d truly been enjoying… was running under him. Winning together with him.

And yet, that might be something I’ll never experience again.

That cold reality stood firmly in my way.

---

I felt a vibration at my waist and mechanically answered my phone.

"Hoshino Wilm-san."

The voice on the other end was… Masa-san. Though it was nearly drowned out by the surrounding noise, it somehow reached me.

"…Yes."

My reply came out hoarse and trembling. Only then did I realize how cold my body had become—so cold it felt frozen solid. Sensation had already drained from my limbs, and my throat was painfully dry. The hospital room where Ayumu-san lay was heated, but the warmth didn’t quite reach everywhere, and the chill of midwinter still lingered in the air.

How long had I been standing here, staring at Ayumu-san? My sense of time was completely broken—I couldn’t tell how long I’d been here anymore. I was sure I’d arrived in the morning, but now… it was… 4:00 p.m.?

…So I’d been here for over seven hours.

I’d spent hours watching Ayumu-san, and for all those hours… he never woke up.

In that hazy, unreal feeling, Masa-san’s voice reached me again.

"How is my brother?"

"…No change."

"I see… Thank you. Over here, Mihono Bourbon-san’s Asahi Hai has concluded. She became overexcited early on, but even so, she managed to win by a nose."

"I see… I’m sorry I couldn’t come watch."

"It’s fine. I was the one who asked you to stay with my brother."

…Did she say that? I don’t remember.
…No—maybe it’s not that I don’t remember. Maybe I just wasn’t listening.

And the Asahi Hai… right. Today was Bourbon-chan’s Asahi Hai Futurity Stakes. I’d forgotten. It had completely slipped my mind.

This is the worst.

It was my important junior’s first G1 race, and I couldn’t even be there to watch.

As self-loathing pressed down on me and I fell silent, unsure what to say, Masa-san’s voice reached my ears again—more serious than before.

"When you return to Tracen, I’d like to speak with you, along with Bourbon-san. …If possible, could you come to the front of the trainer’s office?"

…I know.

I’m not an ordinary Uma Musume. I’m a reincarnated Uma Musume who inherited memories and a personality from a previous life. So… I understand this logically.

I don’t have time to be doing this.

At the same time, I am one Uma Musume living in this world—and the “racing Uma Musume Hoshino Wilm,” upon whom so many people place their expectations.

With the Arima Kinen approaching, I am expected to run—and to perform. That is the position I am in.

Truthfully, I should be heading to training right now.

So…

"…Understood."

Hold it down.

My emotions. My turmoil. Everything.

…If I don’t, it feels like I might completely lose control at any moment.

---

Night had fully fallen, and the biting cold wrapped itself around the world. I bid farewell to Ayumu-san, who continued to breathe peacefully, and returned to Tracen Academy.

He looked like he might wake up at any moment, yet there was no response at all. I gently touched his cheek, held his hand, spoke to him, pressed my forehead to his… but that troubled, awkward smile never came back.

The accident had happened yesterday evening.

And yet, a full day had already passed.

Every time words like “vegetative state” or “brain death” surfaced in my mind, I desperately scrubbed them away. That can’t be true. There’s no way that could happen. It’s impossible. Ayumu-san would never end up like that.

He should be welcoming me in the trainer’s office any moment now—tomorrow, even—saying, "Sorry for worrying you."

Again and again, I tried to untangle the mess in my head, failing every time, as I staggered through the grounds of Tracen. A familiar path—one I’d walked countless times over the past two years—toward the place where my trainer was supposed to be.

And there…

"I’m glad you’re back, Hoshino Wilm-san. I was just about to come look for you."

"Senpai…"

Just as I thought—my trainer wasn’t there.

A woman of refined age dressed in a suit, and my junior Uma Musume. The two waiting for me looked at me with unmistakable concern.

Only then did I realize how much worry I’d caused them.

…No. Switch gears.

I can’t make Masa-san worry any more than she already is. I can’t worry Bourbon-chan either.

Right now, I have to discard my emotions.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Masa-san, Bourbon-chan."

I deliberately shaped my face into a blank expression.

Just like back then… just like when I first came to this academy.

I killed my emotions, sealed away my turmoil, and lied to myself.

"Once again… Bourbon-chan, I’m sorry I couldn’t go watch your race today."

"It’s fine. Leaving one person behind to monitor Master’s condition was the most rational choice. Wilm-senpai has no need to apologize."

"Thank you. …So, Masa-san, you said you had something to discuss."

I turned to face Masa-san properly.

It felt like the first time in a while that I’d really looked at her face—and she looked utterly exhausted. Deep circles under her eyes, uneven breathing, a pale complexion.

Whether she was simply worse than Ayumu-san at hiding fatigue, or had been pushed beyond the point where she even could, I didn’t know—but even without Bourbon-chan’s keen perception, it was obvious that Masa-san was completely worn out.

She’d apparently been resting yesterday, only to be jolted awake by news of her brother’s accident. After that, she must have been overwhelmed nonstop—handling the aftermath of Ayumu-san’s accident, attending Bourbon-chan’s race—without a moment’s rest.

She probably hadn’t slept at all. Or perhaps she’d been working continuously without pause.

…Masa-san’s official position is that of a sub-trainer.

If Ayumu-san is unable to fulfill his duties as a trainer, she must act as his proxy. Taking Bourbon-chan to the race venue, coordinating with URA staff, responding to unforeseen circumstances—all of that falls on her shoulders.

As a sub-trainer intern, she likely lacked experience in many of these areas. It showed in how utterly drained she looked from handling unfamiliar responsibilities.

"Yes. …There’s something important I need to discuss with both of you."

And yet—

No matter how exhausted she was, her eyes still held clarity, befitting someone in a position of leadership.

Was that pride in her responsibility? Or perhaps that straightforward refusal to run from what must be done—the quality Ayumu-san had spoken of?

…I used to think Masa-san wasn’t much like her brother. But maybe she is, in some ways.

They’re both serious.
Both hardworking.

If there’s something that needs to be done—no matter how difficult or painful it is—they face it head-on. They don’t make excuses. They don’t run. Perhaps they never even consider doing so.

They understand what must be done—and never question doing it. Considering that they both come from a distinguished family, perhaps it’s a form of noblesse oblige.

That part of Ayumu-san… both worried me and—

I loved it.

The way he worked hard for my sake. The way he struggled alongside me.

But now… that’s—

A cold stake twisted into my chest.

…No. I can’t. I have to forget.

Thinking about Ayumu-san right now serves no purpose. These memories that won’t leave my mind, the face burned into the back of my eyelids—I need to forget them, at least for now.

As I lightly shook my head, Masa-san watched me, lowering her gaze just a little.

"…Standing out here in the cold isn’t good for either of you. Let’s go inside."

"Inside…? Do you have the key?"

The trainer’s offices at Central Tracen are kept under strict lock and key.

After all, they’re packed with top-level confidential information.

Data on rival Uma Musume analyzed by trainers. Upcoming race schedules and strategies. Plans for future assignments.

Information worth a fortune. Steal even a single piece, and it could easily be sold for an enormous sum.

That’s precisely why the key to the trainer’s office is entrusted to only one person—the trainer who manages it—and no one else is able to open the door.

That rule applies even to Masa-san, who is treated as a sub-trainer… which means Horino Masa should not be able to open Horino Ayumu’s trainer’s office.

And yet—

As I stood there, confused, Masa-san pulled a single key from her chest pocket.

I’d seen it several times before—something very similar to the key Ayumu-san always carried. But looking more closely, I could tell it was different.

"That is…"

"A spare key for this room. …It was given to me by my brother, for emergencies."

"Emergencies…?"

"My brother probably never imagined things would turn out like this… but he did consider it as a worst-case scenario. When I first came to Tracen, the very first thing he told me was, ‘If anything ever happens to me, use this key and open the third drawer from the top of my desk.’"

"Before I arrived, he had entrusted it to Nice Nature’s trainer, apparently… In any case, it means my brother was always prepared to respond, even if the worst were to happen."

As she spoke, Masa-san unlocked the door and opened it.

What awaited us inside was not the familiar, warmly lived-in trainer’s office where Ayumu-san should have been—

But a cold, unfamiliar space, dominated by a lonely desk with no one sitting at it.

Masa-san stepped inside, switched on the air conditioning, and headed toward the desk Ayumu-san usually occupied. Bourbon-chan and I exchanged a brief glance before following her in.

Once inside, words fell from the back walking ahead of us.

"I’ll say this first—I don’t believe I can replace my brother, nor do I intend to try. I am merely his temporary proxy. While he is absent, I plan to act as your sub-trainer and fill in the gaps as much as possible."

That probably wasn’t meant as an attempt to shirk responsibility or avoid work.

Rather, it was a declaration—that she had no intention of taking away the position of our trainer.

We Uma Musume inevitably form bonds with our contracted trainers.

Sometimes it’s respect, sometimes friendship, sometimes attachment… and in my case, romantic feelings.

Because of that, there are plenty of cases where someone insists, “That person is the only trainer I’ll ever accept.”

And once a trainer becomes unavailable, there is always the possibility that a sub-trainer might be promoted to take their place.

By stating up front that she had no intention of claiming that role against our wishes, she was likely trying to prevent misunderstandings before they could occur.

…Still, it was a rather blunt way of putting it for Masa-san—one that could easily be misinterpreted.

Maybe she was simply too exhausted to carefully choose her words anymore.

As Bourbon-chan and I stood there, unsure of what to do, Masa-san opened the drawer of Ayumu-san’s desk.

After pausing briefly—likely at the sight of its contents—she let out a single sigh and began placing items onto the desk.

What she pulled out were stacks of neatly filed documents. Not ten or twenty pages, but hundreds.

After placing them all on the desk, she retrieved a notebook from the drawer, glanced through it, and murmured in a voice so quiet that, if we weren’t Uma Musume, we might not have heard it.

"The two of you’s current capabilities, the next month’s training schedule, detailed strategies for your upcoming race, rivals to be cautious of… future work plans, contacts for choreographers, dance trainers, vendors, and key points to keep in mind…!?"

"That idiot brother of mine… If you’re organizing things this meticulously so others can understand them at any time, of course you’d end up that busy…"

She muttered with exasperation—no, with a hint of irritation—then suddenly seemed to realize herself, glanced at us, cleared her throat once, and spoke again.

"Ahem. Let’s get back on topic."

"What I wanted to discuss with you two is nothing else but this… what we do from here on."

She didn’t sit at Ayumu-san’s desk, instead carrying the documents to her own desk beside it as she spoke quietly.

…What we do from here on.

The thing I least wanted to think about—and yet the thing that had to be addressed first.

"According to the doctors, it’s unclear when my brother will regain consciousness. He could wake up as early as tomorrow… or, conversely, there is the possibility that he may never wake up."

Despite her effort to keep her voice calm, it felt as though my heart had been seized in a crushing grip.

There is a possibility… that he may never wake up.

Of course, it’s only a possibility.

It’s not certain. In fact, it’s probably more likely that he will wake up.

But—but… if he doesn’t.

That thought… terrifies me.

…No. Stop. I have to cut this line of thinking off, too. Masa-san is still talking.

"Naturally, in an unconscious state, he cannot continue as your trainer. And you are both Uma Musume in the midst of full-scale development—every second matters.

"Given that, finding another trainer is one option that must be considered, however—"

Before she could finish, Bourbon-chan stepped forward, cutting her off.

"My trainer is Master, and no one else. Seeking another trainer is not an option."

She declared it firmly, without the slightest hesitation.

"I see. In that case, until my brother returns, I will support you as a sub-trainer to the best of my ability. However, I am not my brother. While you can follow his plans for the next month, I may fall short when it comes to supporting you… even so, is that acceptable?"

"I have no intention of rejecting a sub-trainer whom Master himself acknowledged. I look forward to working with you."

"Understood. Though inexperienced, I will give you my utmost support."

The two bowed to each other—and just like that, the matter was settled, smoothly and without friction.

It seemed that Bourbon-chan had no intention of leaving Ayumu-san’s side.

Considering everything she had been through up to this point, perhaps that conclusion was only natural.

Ayumu-san’s theoretical training plans, built on data and statistics, perfectly aligned with Bourbon-chan’s principles. More than that, trainers who would wholeheartedly support her dream were few and far between.

A person who possessed both of those qualities—someone worthy of being her “Master”… perhaps, within the current Tracen Academy, Ayumu-san was the only one who fit that role.

…But all of that was based on the assumption that Ayumu-san would eventually wake up.

If he… never opened his eyes again, then we would have to continue on without a trainer.

I might manage somehow, but for Bourbon-chan—whose absolute goal was the Triple Crown—that would be a devastating disadvantage, one that could fairly be called fatal.

Wasn’t she afraid… of the possibility that Ayumu-san might never wake up?

Before I could even ask her that—

"If that is the case, Mihono Bourbon-san, please return to the dormitory today and get proper rest to recover from race fatigue."

"Understood. Excuse me."

Bourbon-chan bowed politely and left the trainer’s office.

---

Left behind in the trainer’s office were just the two of us: Masa-san and me.

I started to open my mouth, intending to share my thoughts—

"Hoshino Wilm-san."

Masa-san’s words cut me off.

When I looked, she had lifted her gaze from the stack of documents and was staring straight at me. The look in her eyes was subtly different from before. Between accumulated fatigue and tangled emotions, it was difficult to fully grasp what she was feeling.

Still holding my gaze, she slowly opened her mouth.

"I have a request."

That was what she said.

"A request?"

"Yes. It is an incredibly shameless request, but… would you be willing to hear me out?"

"Uh… yes."

Without knowing what it was about, there was no reason not to listen. I urged her to continue with my eyes.

Masa-san nodded once.

"Please—until my brother wakes up, could you continue the contract as it is?"

As she said that, she bowed deeply—far deeper than necessary.

…What did she mean?

She presented Bourbon-chan with choices, yet she was asking me outright?

Seeing my confusion, Masa-san gestured for me to sit on the sofa placed in the corner of the room. I followed her lead, turning my attention back to her as she sat behind her desk.

With her fingers interlaced atop the desk, she paused briefly, as if collecting her thoughts, then began to speak.

"…Do you remember when I told you that you are a ‘special existence’ to my brother?"

"Yes."

It was something she’d said shortly before the Japan Cup, after I had overheard the conversation between Ayumu-san and Masa-san.

Ayumu-san had lived his life for others, without his own will—or so he claimed. I was the one who drew out his personal desires. Because of that, I was special to him… or so she said.

"So… is that why? Because I’m important to the trainer?"

"No. It isn’t because you are important. It’s because you are ‘special.’"

Masa-san corrected me with a strained expression, as though chewing on something bitter.

…What did that mean? Not important, but “special”? What was the difference?

Seeing my furrowed brow, she lowered her eyes slightly.

"So you really don’t understand."

Don’t understand… what?

"You are… the only person my brother truly ‘sees.’"

"He sees… me?"

I couldn’t grasp it. The only one he “sees”? Did that mean he didn’t see anyone else?

Was it a metaphor? Or did it imply that he was seeing something layered over reality—something projected, rather than the thing itself?

"I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you mean…"

"That’s only natural. Your confusion is perfectly reasonable. However, to explain that… I need to talk about my brother’s past first."

"Ayumu-san’s… past?"

Ayumu-san had spoken to me about his past before. He said he was someone who had simply worked hard to become a trainer—that there was nothing more to it.

He claimed there were no particularly special events, that he had lived an ordinary life.

Whether spending most of one’s life on self-improvement can truly be called ‘ordinary’ aside, at the very least, that was how he perceived himself.

Or perhaps… that perception itself was distorted.

There were undeniable distortions in the trainer’s values. His self-evaluation and sense of self-worth were abnormally low. Even when something significant happened, he didn’t regard it as important.

For example, even if he were caught up in an incident—or perhaps, if he were even killed—he would likely think of it as nothing more than “something that happened.” Or rather, he wouldn’t even be able to see it as anything more.

In short, he was an unreliable narrator.

Most of what Ayumu-san said was accurate—but when it came to himself, his words couldn’t be trusted.

That was why—

Hearing Ayumu-san’s story through someone else’s perspective might be the only way to learn the truth.

Perhaps that was what would finally provide accurate information.

"This won’t be a pleasant story, and it may take some time… but because you are ‘special,’ I want you to hear it. Is that alright?"

"Y-yes…"

So I straightened my posture on the sofa.

To learn more about Ayumu-san.

And to understand Masa-san’s true intentions.

I listened carefully to a story from a time long past—perhaps from an era before I was even born.

"First, there’s something I need to apologize for."

Masa-san lowered her eyes, her expression tight, as if she were enduring pain.

"I once told you that my brother is ‘someone who finds salvation in saving others’… I’m sorry. That was a lie.

"My brother is… someone who cannot be saved. Someone who cannot save himself."

That was how she began to speak.