Hachiman's Perspective
"...Well, I'd say that was a success."
The dining hall was buzzing with energy. At a nearby table, a group of French Horse Girls—Carnegie included—were gathered around Rice. Since downloading the translation app we talked about earlier, Rice had become the center of attention. Girls were flocking to her, eager to hear stories about Japan. For the first time since we landed, Rice was truly talking to them.
"She looks like she's having the time of her life," I murmured.
Rice spotted me and waved enthusiastically. "Oh, Big Brother! Look! Everyone is so nice! Talking to them feels so different from talking to my friends back home—it's so fresh and exciting!"
"Exactly! And—oh, wait, she won't understand me if I speak French—" one of the girls started to say.
"It's fine," I interjected. "I can manage the essentials. Enough to get by, at least."
The girl's eyes went wide. "Wait, you can speak French too?! That's amazing! Okay, then, ask her this: How long has Rice-chan been able to eat that much? It's incredible!"
"Right... Rice, she wants to know when exactly you became a professional glutton."
"Wha—?! B-Big Brother! Don't translate questions like that!" Rice squeaked, flailing her arms.
"My bad, my bad," I chuckled, then turned back to the French girls. "She says 'no comment.' Honestly, it just kind of happened over time."
"She just... started eating like that?"
"That level of consumption is... terrifying," another girl whispered in awe.
"If you think she's a lot," I added, leaning in slightly, "there are at least two others back at Tracen Academy who make her look like she's on a diet."
The entire table gasped in unison. "TWO MORE?!"
Rice looked at me, confused by their reaction. "What did you tell them?"
"Just that Special Week and Oguri Cap exist."
"Oh... well, yeah. Those two are in a league of their own."
Carnegie leaned across the table, looking at me with squinted, suspicious eyes. "Hey, Trainer... I've been meaning to ask. You are a human... right?"
"Do I look like a different species to you?"
"I mean, you were running right alongside Rice! Anyone who can hit those speeds and look that bored afterward is definitely not a normal human! It's creepy!"
"Wait, what?" another girl chimed in, leaning in. "He can keep up with her?"
"It's a genetic quirk from my grandmother's side," I explained with a sigh. "I don't know the specifics, but apparently, I inherited the leg strength of a Horse Girl. My actual physical power is just human-level, but I can maintain a pace of 20 to 30 kilometers per hour without much effort."
"Whoa... so your grandma was a Horse Girl? That's so cool!"
Carnegie nodded, finally satisfied. "Well, that explains the 'zombie' speed, I guess."
"Glad we cleared that up," I said, standing up. "Anyway, I just came by to check on things. Have fun, you guys. I'll leave Rice in your hands."
Everything seemed to be going well. Rice was making friends, and the atmosphere was positive. I didn't see any immediate problems.
"Good day to you, Mr. Hikigaya."
I turned to see André Fabre approaching. "Ah, hello, Trainer Fabre."
"I hate to interrupt your rest, but would you have a moment to talk? Several of my colleagues are eager to learn about Japanese training techniques and philosophies. They were wondering if you might be willing to share some of your insights."
"If my knowledge is actually useful to you, I don't mind," I replied.
"I am glad to hear it. It makes things much easier for me. Shall we? They are already gathered."
I followed him, a bit bewildered. "They're already waiting? Is there really that much interest?"
It was surprising. I'd always heard that European racing was at a level Japan had yet to reach—a pinnacle of the sport. Why would these masters want to hear from a third-year trainer from the Far East?
Fabre opened the doors to a meeting room. "Gentlemen, I have brought him."
"Ah, Mr. Hikigaya! We've been waiting!"
"It is a pleasure to finally speak with you! Please, come in!"
I blinked at the enthusiastic welcome. "...I feel like I'm being treated a bit more grandly than I deserve. What's going on?"
Fabre smiled warmly. "It is because your resolve—and your devotion to your Horse Girl—has reached us all."
"My... resolve?"
"The Tenno Sho (Spring)..." Fabre said softly. "We have all seen the footage of the aftermath of that race."
I felt a slight chill run down my spine.
"The words you spoke to the crowd that day... they struck a chord with us," Fabre continued. "Even through the subtitles, it was clear how much you cherish your student. You have likely heard the phrase Noblesse Oblige? While the context is different, you acted with the dignity and protective spirit that defines a true leader in our profession. Every person in this room respects you—not just as a colleague, but as a man of character."
"I... I see."
"He's right!" another trainer added. "You showed exactly what a trainer should be!"
"How could anyone mock a man who stands up for his athlete like that? I would never tolerate such behavior in my stable!"
So that's how they see me over here? I wondered. The Japanese media had been a whirlwind of controversy back then, but it seemed the French trainers saw only the core of the act.
"And you should know," Fabre added, "it isn't just us. Across Europe—from the UK and Ireland to Germany and Italy—your reputation is incredibly high. And not just here; Hong Kong, Australia, Dubai, and even America have taken notice. You are, quite literally, one of the most talked-about trainers in the world right now."
"The... the whole world?" I stammered.
"Exactly. To be honest, there was even talk of several international stables trying to scout you. But the Japanese racing association has a very tight grip on their best talent; they were practically desperate to ensure you didn't leave."
"All of this was happening... without me knowing?"
"The world of international racing politics moves beneath the surface, my friend," Fabre laughed. "But make no mistake, Mr. Hikigaya—you are a celebrity among trainers."
...I'm going to be okay, right? I thought, a cold sweat forming. I'm not going to be kidnapped by a foreign stable on my way home, am I?
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