Chapter 12: Revving the Engine Again

The scorching summer rages on. On an early morning in the third week of August, Tomio and I—along with Happy Meek and Kiryuin Aoi—are about to embark on a five-day summer training camp.

Normally, budget and past performance would’ve made such a camp impossible, but thanks to Kiryuin pulling some strings, we got to tag along. Well, "pulling strings" might be an overstatement—Happy Meek had just won the Hakodate Junior Stakes (G3) in late July, and that result probably secured the camp’s approval.

…Happy Meek and Kiryuin Aoi. These two are clearly scheming to rack up prize money by winning graded races before powerhouses like Spe-chan and Grass-chan reach their peak. And then, they’ll be set for next year’s classics… A solid strategy, I’ll give them that.

No trainer in their right mind would rush into the earliest junior-grade stakes unless they were desperate. That kind of tactical thinking is exactly what you’d expect from a prestigious stable—sly, but undeniably sharp.

Happy Meek’s strategy is sound. Historically, in 1997, most of the strongest generation didn’t debut until the new year. Aside from Grass Wonder and King Halo, none of them even ran in two-year-old graded stakes. Horses like Seiun Sky, El Condor Pasa, and Special Week were late bloomers.

But how does that translate to this world? Those last three will likely take their time, but given target races and earnings requirements, they’ll almost certainly show up in junior-grade stakes.

El-chan’s probably aiming for the Hanshin Juvenile Fillies or the Asahi Hai Futurity Stakes. Spe-chan’s big target is definitely the Hopeful Stakes. As for Sei-chan… she might avoid showing her hand entirely and stick to allowance or open races until the new year.

Unlike real history, debut timing is uniform here—so right now, it’s anyone’s guess who’ll show up where. We might bump into Spe-chan and the others in some obscure allowance race. Or we could run in a graded stake and not face any of the top-tier rivals. At this point, we’ll have to rely on Tomio’s instincts and intel.

"Tomio, all right, all right! Hold up a sec!"

Lost in thought, I raise both hands toward the van owned by Tracen Academy. Tomio sticks his head out of the driver’s window, backs up, and pulls the van right in front of me.

"Sorry for making you help. This should be my job."

"Don’t sweat it. C’mon, let’s load up."

"Yeah."

Right now, we’re in the middle of prepping for the camp. We’ve backed the van up to an old storage shed doubling as a training equipment depot and are about to load our gear.

Tomio hops out and opens the back door. As he does, his rolled-up sleeves reveal thick, sun-tanned arms, and my heart skips a beat. His arms are easily twice the size of mine. The way his sweat-soaked shirt clings to him in this blistering heat is… weirdly alluring. …Wait, no, hold on—

"…Apollo? What’s up? Got a mosquito on you or something?"

"Wha—?! N-no, nothing! Ah-ha, ah-ha-ha…"

"…? Whatever. Let’s get this stuff loaded."

I clear my throat and follow Tomio into the musty shed. Inside, tiny flies buzz around, and the air is thick with the stench of dirt and dust clinging to well-worn equipment. My eyes are already itching… Let’s make this quick.

We haul out the weight-training gear and toss it into the van. This is serious equipment—even for a horse girl like me, it’s heavy. I climb into the passenger seat and fan myself, tugging at my sweat-drenched gym shirt.

"…? What’s up, Tomio? Let’s hurry and meet up with Kiryuin and the others.""Huh? Oh, uh… yeah."

I buckle my seatbelt, still fanning myself as I struggle with the cramped space. Hmm… Ever since we loaded the gear, Tomio’s been acting weird—avoiding eye contact, or… no, he is looking at me. Just… at my chest? Did I spill something—

"Eep!"

I glance down and realize my sweat has made my gym shirt practically see-through. And the slightly mature underwear I’m wearing is very visible beneath the clingy fabric.

Crap! Of all days to wear a bold color! I cross my arms over my chest and hunch forward. Tomio, who was about to start the engine, flinches.

"T-Tomio! …Did you see?"

"…See what, you punk?"

"Don’t play dumb. You did, didn’t you?"

"…………"

Tomio’s face twists like he bit into something sour. No way he hasn’t been sneaking glances. At my underwear.

I keep glaring daggers until he finally caves and nods.

Instantly, my cheeks burn like fire.

"—Y-you… Echhi…!"

"S-sorry! I’m really sorry! It was an accident! I didn’t mean to look!!"

The trainer flails in panic. I’m… happy? Embarrassed? Pissed? …No, definitely pissed.

Normally, we horse girls wear plain sports bras during training to avoid this exact problem—and if those peek through, fine, whatever. But this? This is just mortifying. I grind my teeth, forcing down my anger.

"…I’ll let it slide this once out of the goodness of my heart. But there won’t be a next time."

"Y-yeah… Got it… Loud and clear. Yes, ma’am…"

The van rolled through the academy grounds in total silence. A glance at the sunshade mirror showed my ears pinned flat against my head.

After hiding my upper half with a towel and retreating to the dorm for a shower and change of clothes, I decided to fetch Happy Meek. Tomio, meanwhile, had gone ahead to meet up with Kiryuin.

"Heyyy, Meek-chan!"

Now dressed in some trendy, loose-fitting casual wear (a gift from Maruzensky), I stood outside Meek-chan’s dorm room and knocked a few times. No answer.

"Meek-chan?"

When silence persisted, I reached for the doorknob—only for a massive shadow to loom over me.

"Wah—?!"

Whirling around, I found myself face-to-face with a dazed, white-maned horse girl. Happy Meek. She towered over me by at least 10 centimeters—no wonder the lighting had swallowed me whole.

"M-Meek-chan… Don’t scare me like that…"

"…Sorry. Just got back."

—Happy Meek. Kiryuin’s trainee, Tomio’s classmate. A slow, spacey, enigmatic girl. She rarely spoke, and her thoughts were inscrutable.

But her talent was undeniable. As this generation’s first graded-stakes winner, her strength spoke for itself. She outclassed me completely—plus, she was a freak of versatility, capable of running everything from 1000m to 4000m on turf or dirt without losing form.

Thanks to that adaptability, we often trained together (though I usually got left in the dust). Still, we were close enough to chat whenever we crossed paths.

"Meek-chan, time to head out~"

"…Got it."

She hauled an oversized backpack from her room, dragging it into the hallway while propping the door open. My own luggage was hefty, but did she really need that much…?

"L-let’s go. Everyone’s waiting downstairs."

"…Yeah."

We carried our bags outside, where Tomio and Kiryuin were deep in conversation near the van. Spotting us, Tomio waved. "Over here!"

"Good morning, Kiryuin-san."

"Apollo-san, hello! Looking forward to working with you today!"

I returned her greeting. …Huh. Up close, Kiryuin was stunning. Flawless features, radiant charm, and a figure that put mine to shame. But I couldn’t shake my suspicions.

Something about her felt… performative. Like she was feigning naivety to cozy up to my trainer.

Still, I owed her gratitude. Without her invite, this camp wouldn’t have happened. Though I did wonder—why only us? Why not her other classmates?

…Kiryuin. You’re totally after Tomio, aren’t you? You just wanted alone time with him.

Pasting on a smile, I loaded the last of the gear. The van, spacious as it was, already felt cramped with equipment and luggage. We’d manage, but it’d be tight.

Happy Meek wordlessly crammed herself into the back seat, her deadpan expression surreal yet endearing in the confined space. Ugh, no way I’m squeezing back there. I’m sitting next to Tomio.

I reached for the passenger door—only for Kiryuin to slither into my periphery.

"—Apollo-san. I have to navigate for Trainer Momozawa, so… I’ll take the front seat."

—Oh-ho. So that’s her play. Nice try. 

"Nah, I’ll guide him. It’s fine."

"Huh?"

"Tomio’s my trainer. You sit in the back, Kiryuin-san."

"But—"

I yanked the door open and plopped into the seat, grinning. Hah! Victory!

Then Tomio’s hand clamped onto my collar.

"C’mon, Apollo. Let Kiryuin have it."

"Wha—?"

"Kiryuin-san, here—go ahead."

"Ah, pardon me!"

Dragged out like a misbehaving kitten, I watched Kiryuin slide into my spot. Tomio unceremoniously dumped me into the back, where Meek-chan’s hand landed on my shoulder in silent solidarity.

"…………"

Deflating, I sighed. Well… guess I’ll take the L.

By noon, we arrived at a traditional inn closely tied to Tracen Academy. Nestled in the quiet countryside, far from the city’s noise, it was a popular spot for horse girls’ training camps.

The place was practically a URA-funded paradise: private roads stretching over 10 kilometers for unrestricted galloping, a slightly worn but well-maintained track course, a surprisingly modern training facility (out of place in the rural setting), and even a small mountain for nature-based workouts.

"Hellooo~!"

After greeting the innkeeper, we headed to our rooms for the next five days. The arrangement? Apollo Rainbow and Happy Meek in one room. Momozawa Tomio and Kiryuin Aoi in the other.

What the hell?! Kiryuin, are you stupid?!

When I confronted her, she stammered, "W-we could only reserve two rooms…" Bullshit. Even with two rooms, there’s a right way to split them. Obviously, Tomio and I should’ve been together. Or, at the very least, the three girls could’ve shared. Am I the weird one here?!

By evening, I’d had enough. Before training started, I cornered Kiryuin outside the restroom. She tensed, bracing for a "discussion." Oh no, honey. You brought this on yourself.

"Hey, Kiryuin-san. You’ve been getting awfully close to my trainer lately, haven’t you?"

"Hweh?!"

"Don’t ‘Hweh’ me."

She retreated—right into the wall. Her slender back pressed against the wood as my glare pinned her in place. My ears were flat, my tail lashing like a whip. The reflection in her wide eyes showed a version of me I barely recognized: terrifying.

(…Huh? Why am I this angry?)

I didn’t understand it. This wasn’t just irritation—it was rage, primal and scorching. The thought of Kiryuin beside Tomio, laughing, breathing his air—it made my vision bleed red.

"Kiryuin-san? Why won’t you look at me?"

My voice dropped, icy and dangerous. She flinched, sliding down the wall until she sat crumpled on the floor.

This is bad. If I let this—whatever this is—take over, I’d lose control. My body wasn’t listening. I just wanted to ask a question. That’s all.

But my feet kept moving. My thoughts drowned in tar.

"Answer me. Why are you clinging to my trainer?"

I hooked my hands under her arms and yanked her upright, then leaned in, my whisper a blade at her throat. Kiryuin shuddered—then blinked up at me, dazed.

Was this a horse girl’s possessiveness? No—a winner’s obsession? Something I’d never felt as a man, this all-consuming madness. Is this what fuels us?

A detached part of me observed the chaos. But it was Kiryuin’s next words that finally stopped me.

"Why? Because… I admire Momozawa-sensei…?"

"……What?"

I blinked, utterly… stunned. Her answer was so anticlimactic, it felt like a bucket of ice water dumped straight into my brainstem. Rationality flooded back in, and the oppressive aura I’d been radiating—like before a race—fizzled out.

There was no deceit in Kiryuin’s eyes. More importantly, as someone who knew the monstrous power of horse girls, she had no reason to lie and provoke me.

She did hold feelings for Tomio—but they were the admiration of a fellow trainer, not romantic attraction.

The fight drained out of me. I’d completely lost it. My obsession with winning, with being his number one, had narrowed my vision to a tunnel. I’d been feral.

…I never knew a horse girl’s fixation could run this deep. That the same drive fueling our victories could twist into something so alien when aimed elsewhere. I’d underestimated our instincts. The competitive fire of our breed—I’d taken it for granted. I need to reflect. Hard.

And worse—I’d forgotten my purpose as a horse girl. What’s my mission?

To run. To become the strongest stayer.

Don’t forget. I’m still small fry. A fluke front-runner whose record (3 starts, 1 win—in a maiden race) barely registers. If I want Tomio’s attention, I need results.

Strength is the only path to my dreams.

—Wake up, Apollo Rainbow. Don’t get distracted. Don’t let arrogance or misdirected instincts derail you. Focus on running. This isn’t the time for jealousy. Why are you at this summer camp? Why did Tomio and Kiryuin bring you here?

To get stronger.

Wasting this precious time on petty emotions—on romance—would be the ultimate insult to them.

Isn’t that right? This camp is for winning.

Never forget how lucky you are, Apollo Rainbow, to have these people in your corner.

"I—I’m so sorry! I jumped to the worst conclusion…!"

I bowed my head to Kiryuin. God, I was an idiot. Letting trivial feelings make me dismiss her and Tomio’s sincerity.

Shame prickled at my eyes, but Kiryuin just laughed softly.

"Ahaha… Don’t worry about it. Even if it was a coincidence, I did set up a situation that looked suspicious. ‘We shared a room to discuss training theory’—of course no one would buy that."

"B-but…!"

"No, no. I actually learned something way more interesting—so let’s call it even."

With a smirk at my flustered face, she breezily walked off toward our rooms.

Dammit… Maruzensky and Kiryuin can both see right through me…

"Haah… What the hell am I even doing…?"

I slumped to the ground, drowning in self-reflection. Apollo Rainbow was blessed—no, spoiled—by those around her. Kiryuin-san, who could so easily forgive my idiotic outburst, was too kind.

...And I was too immature.

Four months in this horse girl's body, yet this was the first time I'd truly touched the feral instincts lurking beneath. Normally, one would learn to temper these violent emotions over a lifetime of growing up as a horse girl...

But I didn't have that luxury.

I had to learn to navigate these feelings at breakneck speed. With the upcoming mock race and the Shigiku Stakes looming, there was no time to "make peace" with my instincts. Suppressing them wasn't an option—the only path was to redirect them somewhere else entirely—

"...I see."

The realization hit me like a thunderbolt, and an idea took shape.

That maddening possessiveness—that surging, white-hot passion—I would channel it all into victory. Nothing else. If I could do that... I'd become stronger than ever before.

Ah—I'd found my new goal.

I would weaponize these emotions for my trainer—summon that same burning intensity—and transmute it entirely into competitive fury for racing.

Only then could I stand on equal footing with Happy Meek and the others. The open class was ruthless; even the one-win division was a brutal world.

There was no room for error. No time for heart-fluttering distractions. Every wasted second had to be poured into training. Those accumulated fragments of effort would bridge the gap between me and the others.

Never forget. I'm still weak.

If I didn't achieve dramatic growth during this summer camp, Apollo Rainbow's dreams would shatter.

"...Let's do this."

I slapped my cheeks—hard.

For the first time, the words "Do your best" held real weight.