Chapter 52: Makoto's Pressure
When he took the little notebook, Makoto deliberately put on a puzzled expression.
"What's this? So secretive…"
"Hehehe, Trainer, just take a look and you'll understand!"
Kitasan Black's ears twitched, her tail swayed excitedly, and she clenched her small fists in front of her chest, eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Off to the side, Vodka leaned over curiously.
"Eh? What's so mysterious? Can I take a look too?"
"Mm-hmm! I actually wanted senpai to check it out too!"
"I see… Huh? Aren't these your next race opponents?"
Glancing at the notebook in Makoto's hands, Vodka turned to Kitasan Black in surprise.
"You actually went and scouted them out on your own, huh, Kita-chan."
"Yup yup!"
She nodded enthusiastically and looked at Makoto with gratitude in her eyes.
"I told you before—I wanted to do something to help Trainer. I meant it, so of course I had to follow through."
"I know that, as a Trainer, you probably already understand this stuff way better than I do."
"But what if I can help, even just a little?"
"If I didn't know anything, that would be one thing. But now that I do know… how could I just sit around and do nothing?"
As he flipped through the notebook, Makoto glanced up, surprised.
"That kind of thing? What do you mean by that?"
"Ah, right, it's like this…"
Kitasan Black explained simply—an account she had heard from her senpai about some behind-the-scenes stories from the industry. Her long ears drooped slightly as she spoke.
"I only ever heard it from the seniors… they said that racing is actually a really harsh world."
"I didn't really get what they meant at the time, but if they said it like that, it must be true."
"But what I didn't expect was… Trainer is under so much pressure, too."
"My grandpa and the others always said you were a really capable Trainer. That I should stick with you no matter what."
"But if I don't perform well, it'd only cause you trouble, wouldn't it?"
"I did win the last two races… but they weren't graded stakes races."
"The next one is a big event—something like a G2… Just thinking about it, I know Trainer must be even busier and more stressed than before."
Her crimson eyes sparkled as she looked up at Makoto.
"So no matter what, I have to find some way to help you."
Makoto fell silent.
To be honest… he was feeling pressure over the upcoming G2.
After hearing the name Ōno Trading Company from Saburo, he had looked into it a bit.
And what he found was… the company had been quietly supporting various Umamusume for quite some time.
Their support was so low-key that they weren't even well-known in the industry. Many Trainers didn't even know the company existed, and sometimes not even the Umamusume they backed were aware of it.
Over the years, the Umamusume backed by Ōno Trading had run in about 2,000 races. The win rate? Less than ten percent.
Their performance in graded stakes was even worse—just two victories.
And of those two wins, neither was in a G1 race.
To be honest, from Makoto's perspective, the reason Ōno Trading kept such a low profile was probably because they didn't have the results to justify making a big show of things.
But regardless of their track record, they were still a trading company.
And he understood exactly what Kitasan Black was referring to—he understood it even better than she or the other Umamusume did. The cold, ruthless nature of corporations and powerful sponsors.
After all, the world of Umamusume was very much a commercial enterprise.
Ticket sales, broadcast rights, supporter vouchers, endorsements, merchandise, upstream and downstream industries, stock investments—
Each of these revenue streams brought in significant profits—enough to sustain multimillion to even billion-yen prize pools, along with the daily operations of the academy, racetracks, and everything in between.
Take one of the most famous Umamusume as an example—Oguri Cap, who held the Hall of Fame title of Superstar.
During her racing years, just the profits from her merchandise plushies alone exceeded 20 billion yen. Even now, those plushies continue to sell as top-tier products.
And her retirement race—the Arima Kinen—had ticket stubs and supporter vouchers that fetch outrageous prices in niche collector markets. Even their normal sale prices weren't cheap.
With returns at this level, the powerful backers supporting Umamusume weren't doing it out of charity. Saying they only care about cold hard cash wouldn't be wrong at all.
To bring in profit, the Umamusume they supported had to win races.
Not just any races—but graded stakes. And not just graded stakes—but the biggest and most prestigious among them.
Most Umamusume didn't face this pressure directly. The ones who did were typically the Trainers… or the team behind them.
Makoto understood all too well what Satomi Pentium's Trainer must have gone through—because he was going through it himself.
He had indeed signed a contract with Kitasan Black.
But the contract clearly stated that if she failed to produce "ideal results" within a certain timeframe, her family and supporters had the right to terminate the agreement unconditionally—and could even pursue "limited" liability.
What counted as "ideal results" and what "limited" meant—those weren't things a mere Trainer like him could define. That power lay in the hands of lawyers and judges.
Emotionally speaking, based on their last meeting, Makoto felt like Saburo approved of him.
But Makoto had never been one to rely on emotions when making decisions.
In his eyes, if that old man was dissatisfied, canceling the contract wouldn't be out of the question at all.
Even if Saburo himself didn't object, Ōno Trading might not be so lenient.
They could very well end the contract—or assign a new Trainer to take over Kitasan Black. Either option was entirely within reason.
That was where the pressure came from.
Not because he feared the logistical mess a contract termination would bring.
But because… after spending time together, Kitasan Black's enthusiasm, cheerfulness, openness, and honesty had stirred something in him.
The mere thought of being separated from this girl filled him with a tinge of sorrow and regret.
He had no one to talk to about these feelings. Sure, his parents were always willing to listen—but he wasn't used to sharing such thoughts. And more importantly, he didn't want to worry them. So he always kept those emotions to himself.
And now, seeing that Kitasan Black, despite knowing so little, sincerely wanted to ease his burden… he felt a warmth rise in his chest.
At the same time, he made a small decision.
"So that's why you were hiding in the bushes this morning, sticking your butt out?"
Flipping through the notebook, Makoto smiled and finally voiced what he had originally planned to keep secret.
"Well, it's a pretty rough scouting report. But a lot of the perspectives are surprisingly fresh."
"I've always placed importance on temperament and psychology. I've been trying to figure out how to better understand those things—turns out, you just gave me a pretty solid lead."
Instantly, Kitasan Black's face turned red. Her small hands shot back and instinctively covered her rear.
"S-Sticking my butt out?! T-Trainer, how did you know about that?!"
Vodka, meanwhile, looked slightly annoyed.
"Hey, hey, Makoto—who describes a girl like that?"
Much like Kitasan Black, Vodka was the straightforward type. After spending time together, she had started calling Makoto by name instead of Yasui-kun or the like and spoke her mind freely.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to tease you," Makoto said, chuckling as he turned to Kitasan again.
"It's just… remember when I said I needed to run a few tests on the drone this morning?"
"Well, while doing an aerial check, I just happened to spot you hiding in the bushes."