Chapter 49: Rest

The weeks following the Derby were nothing short of chaotic. Interview after interview, TV appearances I barely understood, photoshoots for magazines begging to feature me—my training schedule, originally left open for recovery, was now packed with obligations, leaving me more exhausted than ever.

As for my trainer, he was in a death march of his own, juggling a tight schedule and endless phone calls that never stopped ringing.

It was fun experiencing all these new things, but what worried me was my trainer, who looked like he was on the verge of collapse from working late into the night every single day.

There were times when I’d visit the trainer’s office, only to find him swamped with media calls, unable to hold a proper conversation. We’d both agreed to take it easy after the Derby, but if anything, he seemed even busier now than before.

As unavoidable as it was, it was honestly brutal. At this rate, he’d seriously work himself to an early grave. Tracen Academy ought to give him a long vacation and a hefty bonus.

Then, after the Derby and Apollo Rainbow’s dominant victory in the Yasuda Kinen, mid-June arrived. Just as things were finally settling down, five large cardboard boxes from the URA arrived at our doorstep. One afternoon, when we were enjoying a rare moment of peace, Tazuna-san carried them in, arms full.

"Tazuna-san? What’s with the boxes— Huh? You’re leaving already?"

As I turned to respond, I caught Tomio at the edge of my vision, while Tazuna-san bowed politely at the door and said, "I’ll take my leave now." Straightening up, I returned the gesture and asked about the boxes. 

But she just smiled mysteriously, saying, "Consider it a surprise for when you open them," before quickly making her exit—not even giving me a chance to offer coffee or snacks. Left behind, my trainer and I exchanged glances before slowly setting down our mugs.

"What’s all this?"

"Why would I know?"

"S-sorry…"

"I wasn’t trying to make you apologize… Anyway, wanna open one?"

"Yeah."

We got to work. I snatched a pair of scissors from the desk and handed them to my trainer, who carefully began unwrapping the package as if handling a bomb.

After slicing through the packing tape, Tomio reached inside and—slowly, deliberately—lifted out… a Paka Puchi. And not just any Paka Puchi—it was me, Apollo Rainbow.

"Wait, that’s my Paka Puchi! They’re already done? That was fast…"

"Oh, right. I remember now—Tazuna-san said they’d send over Apollo’s merch once it was ready… She really loves her surprises, huh?"

Tomio nodded in understanding, then triumphantly raised the Apollo Rainbow Paka Puchi high.

—Paka Puchi. The tagline? "That horse girl who raced across the turf has arrived at your side—as an adorable 2.5-head-tall figure!?" In short, they’re chibi-style horse girl dolls. Heavily stylized to be extra cute, their 2.5-head proportions make their faces look huge (No offense, Biwa Hayahide!).

Even as Tomio held my Paka Puchi up like a trophy, I couldn’t help but notice—my ears weren’t that big. And compared to real-life me (judging from mirrors and photos), the eyes were way larger… The stylization was strong. Yet, anyone could tell at a glance that this was Apollo Rainbow’s Paka Puchi. Funny how that works.

And don’t let the looks fool you—Paka Puchi are insanely popular. The URA releases all sorts of official merch—clear files with color prints of us in action, Paka Puchi-style keychains, pin badges—but these figurines outsell everything else by a landslide.

They come in various sizes: small (15 cm), medium (30 cm), large (50 cm), and extra-large (1 meter). The one Tomio was holding? The XL. The bigger they are, the pricier—but apparently, they’re amazing to hug. It’s common knowledge that the XLs sell out first whenever a new batch drops. Oh, and the URA’s official site always crashes when they restock.

Legends like Oguri Cap and Haru Urara still sell like crazy. I’ve even seen people riding around with them in their back seats.

…So, I’ve finally reached the point where I get my own merch, huh? I could feel my eyes stinging a little.

"Apollo’s Paka Puchi has been highly requested by fans for a while now. Winning the Derby finally gave them the green light."

Let’s be blunt—horse girl merch doesn’t get made unless you’re popular. And that usually means winning big. The URA isn’t the type to take financial risks. For most, the borderline is a G1 victory—that’s when production starts.

Some horse girls are popular because they win G1s; others gain fame after winning. Either way, a G1 guarantees a certain level of demand. Of course, there are exceptions—horses like Nice Nature, Twin Turbo, Ikuno Dictus, and Matikane Tannhäuser, who built fanbases through consistent top performances or flashy racing styles despite fewer wins.

…………
…Anyway.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

"Hm? Wait, no—why are you hugging my Paka Puchi so tight?"

"I mean, wouldn’t anyone do the same if they got an XL one?"

At the center of my glare, Tomio was squeezing my oversized Paka Puchi against his chest—arms wrapped firmly around its back, even patting its head like it was some kind of pet.

For some reason, it irked me. A vague, prickling frustration I couldn’t quite put into words. Before I knew it, I’d grabbed his wrist, yanked the doll free, and hurled it onto the couch. "Ack—!" The trainer yelped as the figure bounced face-first into the cushions. He let out a relieved sigh when it didn’t hit the floor.

"Hey, be careful! The URA went through the trouble of sending these. We should treat them nicely."

"…………"

"What’s wrong all of a sudden? Don’t like how it turned out? Or are you feeling sick? I’m not a mind reader, you know."

"...It’s nothing."

He was right. Even a kid would know better than to mishandle a gift. And yeah, I knew I was being that girl—the one who randomly gets pissy for no reason.

But—but—the real thing’s right here! I couldn’t help screaming internally. I was jealous. Of a doll. Swallowing my pride, I sidled between Mio and the Paka Puchi, fidgeting and batting my lashes up at him. That was the absolute limit of my flirting skills.

"...??"

Tomio tilted his head, a giant question mark practically floating above him. If you wanna hug something so bad, just hug me! C’mon, Trainer— Not that my romance stats were high enough to actually say that. Silent, desperate eye-contact was my pathetic max.

As his confusion visibly deepened, he finally turned away. "Let’s check the other boxes." The moment his back was to me, my knees buckled. Ugh… What a worthless Uma Musume, wasting all her past-life guy experience. Right after the Derby, we’d hugged without a second thought—but now that I’m aware of it, I’m useless… Sigh. Humans are hard.

Straightening up before he noticed my meltdown, I peeked into the remaining boxes. Inside were more Apollo Rainbow goods—clear files, keychains, the works.

Tomio handled each item with exaggerated care, gleefully shoving them in my face. Dude, I don’t need a close-up of my own merch— But his stupidly happy grin made my own smirk unstoppable.

Once everything was unpacked, we staged a grand relocation—led by the XL Paka Puchi—to the shelf housing our Derby trophy, certificates, and photos. The figurines and Mio’s favorite merch now stood alongside them.

"Place feels livelier now."

"Yeah."

"...Seeing it all like this really hammers it home. We won the Derby." His voice softened. "Kinda hits you, huh?"

"...Mhm."

The XL Paka Puchi ended up exiled to the couch (shelf space: insufficient), but taking in the display made me reflective.

In the far corner was a photo from last June—right before my debut. Me in gym clothes, Tomio in a suit, standing awkwardly apart on the track. His rookie nervousness, my pre-fall innocence. Our faces haven’t changed much, but… our eyes sure have.

Next to it: post-maiden victory, me in generic gear flashing a peace sign, Tomio fist-pumping like a dork. By then, the foundation between us was set.

Further down—the Kikuka Sho at Kyoto, a solo shot in my racing silks before the Hopeful Stakes, pre-Satsuki Sho tension—and at the end, the Derby.

That one was taken on Tokyo’s turf, both of us rubbing teary eyes. God, we cried so much it was embarrassing. Wait, has it really been a month already…? My gaze drifted to the trophy beside the photos.

The golden cup looked vaguely uncomfortable, dwarfed by Paka Puchi of assorted sizes. "Kinda messed up the layout," Tomio muttered. We snorted, then burst out laughing. A little anticlimactic, but… that’s us. And for a while, the room stayed steeped in that easy warmth.

One week until the Takarazuka Kinen.

Until Silence Suzuka’s true awakening—just a little longer.