Chapter 7: Let's Eat First
Kitasan Black hadn't expected Oguri Cap to encourage her.
She'd seen the legendary senpai before, of course, and had heard all the stories—about her dazzling career, her countless victories, her cool, distant demeanor.
In Kitasan Black's mind, Oguri Cap was always someone untouchable, cold, and intimidating.
But now, after that brief exchange... she didn't feel cold at all. In fact, she felt surprisingly warm.
Still stunned from the encouragement, Kitasan Black hesitated for a moment before snapping out of it and rushing to the door. She wanted to say thank you properly.
She spotted the two senpais just a little distance away, not yet out of sight. Gathering her nerve, she took a few hurried steps after them—just in time to overhear them talking casually to each other.
"Oguri-senpai, do you know that girl?"
"Nope."
"Then how did you know she hasn't raced yet? And that she's struggling with power control?"
"The laptop and the papers on the table said as much. Probably notes from her trainer."
"Seriously...? I didn't notice any of that..."
"...Still, it felt like she's strong."
"Felt?"
"You remember my second Mainichi Okan?"
"Of course! You're the first umamusume to ever win that race back-to-back! But which one do you mean?"
"The second win."
"The one they called the 'Best G2 Race of the Year'?"
"Yeah. That one. The way that girl felt just now… it reminded me a bit of Inari."
"Inari-senpai?! For real? If we're just talking about raw power from our generation, aside from you, I think only Inari-senpai was on that level!"
"Probably."
"Then that girl's really something... I mean, if she's got that kind of potential—wait, but didn't your debut race…"
"Yeah, I only placed second."
"...'Only'?! Come on, that's still insane! And your record in the regional circuits was twelve races, ten wins! That's basically monster-tier!"
"That's why I said, not being able to control your strength at first isn't a big deal. Maybe she'll be better than me and win her debut."
"Better than you... heh, now that's a tall order. Anyway, next delivery's at the Hongou dorms, right?"
"Yeah. The old dorm buildings."
"Alright! Let's do like before—first one there wins! And be careful not to spill the food, Oguri-senpai!"
"Don't worry. I may get lost, but I never trip when I run."
"Great! Then—three, two… one!"
In the blink of an eye, the two figures blurred, then vanished from view. They were already gone from the front of the dorm before Kitasan could even register it.
Only then did she realize—without meaning to, she'd followed them all the way here.
'Power control, huh…'
Murmuring those words in her head, she bit her lip and turned to walk back toward Makoto's room.
The whole way there, the senpais' conversation echoed in her mind.
She'd caught it clearly: when Oguri Cap mentioned the possibility of someone outshining even her, Bamboo Memory had awkwardly steered the topic elsewhere. It was obvious she didn't agree.
That was understandable.
After all, someone like Oguri Cap—a umamusume who shone so brightly—only came around once in a generation, if that.
Kitasan Black hadn't even had her debut race. Comparing herself to someone like that was ridiculous.
And besides, even Oguri Cap hadn't won her debut.
Kitasan Black hadn't once been singled out as exceptional by any of the teachers or trainers at the academy. The chances of her winning her first race were... slim.
But the wave of self-doubt passed quickly.
In its place, something else rose—stubborn resolve.
Her dream of becoming a great umamusume wasn't just something she said to make her father and grandfather proud.
It was a promise. A dream she clung to after watching her idol—Tokai Teio—pull off miracle after miracle.
Whether or not she could become a miracle herself... she didn't know.
But one thing was clear:
If she was too scared to even try, if she backed away from her debut, then she'd be letting down her father, her grandfather, her idol, and herself.
What's more, she now had a trainer to rely on.
Her idol, Tokai Teio, and even Oguri Cap-senpai had both said it—her trainer was outstanding.
If that was true, then as long as she listened carefully, followed every instruction, and tackled her training with full dedication…
Then maybe—just maybe—her debut race, the next race after that…
Even the once-in-a-lifetime "Classic Triple Crown."
Even the Arima Kinen, the race that marked the pinnacle of every year.
Maybe she could win them all.
Yes! That's it!
Kita-chan, don't give up before you've even started!
Cheering herself on internally, Kitasan Black sprinted full force back toward Makoto's apartment. As she burst into the living room, still catching her breath, she shouted without hesitation:
"Trainer! I've made up my mind! No matter what you ask of me, I'll listen and follow everything to the letter!"
Slurp—
Makoto, halfway through a mouthful of ramen, jolted when a dark blur shot into his vision. He nearly choked on his noodles and didn't catch a word of what she just said.
"—Sorry, what was that?"
"I said—!"
Taking a deep breath, Kitasan Black bowed deeply, nearly bending in half.
"From now on, whether it's training or racing, no matter what orders you give me, I'll follow them exactly, seriously, and without fail!"
"Please believe in me! I swear, I'll become an umamusume that makes you proud to be my trainer!"
"This is a promise! From Kitasan Black to her trainer!"
Makoto blinked, then glanced at his laptop, the scrawled notes on the table, and finally toward the front door.
She probably followed those two outside and overheard something they said. Maybe the part about her control issues.
So straightforward, huh.
Still... not bad. That kind of fire. He liked it.
"So what you're saying is," he asked, "when it comes to training and races, you'll do exactly what I tell you, no complaints?"
"Yup! That's my official promise to my trainer!"
She shouted it with her whole chest, her voice brimming with determination.
"...Alright. Good spirit."
Nodding with a small smile, Makoto motioned toward the coffee table with his chin.
"Then eat first."
"Huh? Eh?"
Kitasan Black froze.
She thought he'd say something deep, or immediately throw her into some grueling training routine. Instead, he told her to eat.
Slurp—
"A great umamusume must—cough. Never mind. Forget I was about to quote that."
Makoto slurped another mouthful of noodles, catching himself before he launched into a quote from On Horses, a classic piece of literature—which, he remembered halfway through, didn't exist in this world.
"Whatever you just heard outside, or whatever you're fired up about... Whether it's racing or training, you can't do any of it on an empty stomach."
He pointed his chopsticks at her for emphasis.
"And another thing—don't be in such a rush. Learn to slow down, pace yourself."
"Eat first. I'll set up your training plans later. No need to rush it all at once."
"I've got to go back to the hospital for a follow-up check in a few days, handle your debut arrangements, and buy some new training equipment."
"While I'm doing that, I want you to ask one of your classmates to film your running sessions from the sidelines and bring the footage to me after."
By now, Kitasan Black was already holding her food container in both hands.
"You just want them to film training runs? Nothing else?"
"That's right. I just need to check your form."
Makoto nodded, then added casually,
"If possible, try to get a clear shot of your leg movements."