"Sakura Chiyono O, her current goal is the Japan Derby. As for her subsequent race schedule—
I'm not her trainer, so I can't decide that."
"As for March, the plan for the South Kanto Triple Crown remains unchanged. In between, we'll insert other races depending on the situation to maintain her race awareness."
"As for Inari One…"
Thinking of Inari One, Kuroha glanced at his system panel:
[Inari One]
[Track Aptitude: Turf A / Dirt A]
[Distance Aptitude: Short F / Mile B / Medium A / Long A]
[Running Style Aptitude: Front Runner G / Pace Chaser B / Late Surger B / End Closer A]
[Unique Skill: Charge! Charge! Lv3]
[Domain: Bonfire Fox Call!]
[Skills: Bad Track Conditions, End Closer – Straight, Hold Your Tail High, Dust Cloud Adaptation, Winter Uma Musume, Tail Flash, Straight Shot]
[Speed: 1056 / Stamina: 1032 / Power: 1141 / Gut: 988 / Wit: 694]
Just like how Fujimasa March's first-step [Domain] gave her an all-attributes boost,
once she mastered [Bonfire Fox Call], Inari One's stats had also gone up across the board.
But seeing her over-1000 Speed, Stamina, and Power, then looking at that barely-600 Wit… Kuroha's mouth twitched slightly.
After losing the "Bad Mud Track" debuff and unlocking her "Passion Mode,"
Inari One was basically like some kind of ironclad machine—able to rely on a straightforward 5A combo to dominate local races.
"Just let her be. With four-digit stats plus second-step [Domain],
even if she faced Tamamo Cross right now, she could smash her."
Kuroha put away his phone, suppressing the ripples stirred in his heart by news about Oguri Cap, and refocused on the training ground in front of him.
"Hu—!"
Fujimasa March finally dragged the heavy tire across the finish line.
She abruptly stopped, hands braced on her knees, gasping hard. Beads of sweat fell from her hair and chin like broken pearls.
Her training clothes were already soaked through, clinging tightly to her tense back, outlining the graceful muscle lines sculpted by high-intensity power training.
Every breath carried a scorching heat, but in those crimson eyes burned unyielding fighting spirit—and the satisfaction of having conquered fatigue.
"March, stretch! Now!" Kuroha's voice was firm and clear, cutting through the slightly empty air of the training ground.
"Yes… sir! Trainer!"
March's reply came with heavy breaths, but without hesitation. She knew every one of Kuroha's demands targeted her weaknesses—there was no room for slacking.
Off to the side, Inari One finished her final set of intense interval runs.
She wasn't gasping as hard as March, but her chest still rose and fell noticeably.
Hands on hips, she adjusted her breathing rhythm while her sharp gaze scanned the route she'd just run—silently replaying every detail of her stride, ground contact, and rhythm transitions.
That focused look was nothing like her usual laid-back self…
Of course, if one ignored the tracer-like glint in her eyes burning like a red volcano.
This girl—if you tried to explain something directly, she'd be as slow as a pig.
Either let her body memorize it instinctively, or force her into "True Self Mode" to boost her fangs and make it stick.
Kuroha nodded, quickly jotting down her performance in his notebook.
Finally, his gaze moved to the far end of the track.
Sakura Chiyono O was still deliberately jogging at a pace barely above walking.
"Slow down… slow down…" she mumbled to herself, stubbornly repeating Kuroha's instructions—
like she was self-hypnotizing to resist the itch to speed up.
Watching her be obedient yet clearly itching to go faster, Kuroha couldn't help but smile faintly.
Her recovery speed was far beyond expectations.
It seemed [Massage], combined with his precise nutrition plan and training schedule, was producing amazing results.
"Chiyono O!"
He raised his voice so she could hear: "That's enough for now, you can stop."
Hearing that, she reacted as if she'd been pardoned—immediately stopping in her tracks.
Turning around, a relieved yet excited smile bloomed on her face as she lightly jogged over.
—Though even this "jog" was probably someone else's brisk walk.
Even now, she was still following Kuroha's orders.
"Trainer! I feel amazing today!"
She stopped in front of him, her voice bright and carrying a hint of pride.
"See? I didn't speed up even a little!"
"Mm, well done." Kuroha nodded at her sparkling eyes, his tone warm with approval.
"Keep up that restraint, and your recovery will be over soon. Then I'll let you go back and run the Derby."
"Yes!" Chiyono O answered crisply, "No matter what the training is, I'll give it my all!"
Days passed quickly.
Just as Kuroha predicted, Chiyono O finished her recovery period five days later.
That morning, sunlight poured into the training ground. She packed her luggage, eyes carrying a trace of reluctance.
Kuroha stood silently watching her until she took a deep breath and turned to face him and the rest of the team.
"Thank you all for taking care of me!"
Her voice was firm and warm, full of unshakable resolve:
"I will win the Japan Derby—I won't let you down!"
She gave a small bow, her face radiating with confident light.
Kuroha chuckled softly, "I believe in you."
But instead of straightening up, she shuffled a little closer to him.
"…?"
Kuroha blinked, then shook his head with a smile, reaching out to ruffle her soft hair.
"Hehe~"
Only then did she lift her head, her eyes sparkling.
Then, swaying her head slightly, she recited a little verse she made up:
"Chiyo tilts her ear, the fanfare sounds—victory is near at hand!"
"Trainer, just watch! Everything I've worked for is to shine in the race!"
"Japan Derby—I will win!"
She waved vigorously, her smile pure and confident.
Her sakura-colored hair danced in the morning light, carrying unspoken determination.
Without lingering further, she turned and strode toward the exit.
Her steps at first were deliberately steady, as if still following the "slow down" order.
But after a few strides, the instincts of an Uma Musume awoke.
Her pace grew lighter, stronger—full of energy.
It was as if stepping outside the training ground finally gave her bottled-up energy a release.
Her figure shrank in the distance, finally swallowed by the morning light,
running toward her battlefield.
Time flew like a white horse galloping past the gap—
and soon, Derby Day arrived.
...
May 29th — Japan Derby Day
Outside Tokyo Racecourse, the air was already electric—like the whole city's passion had gathered here.
The massive venue was like a crouching beast, swallowing and exhaling surging crowds.
Flags of all kinds fluttered under the sun.
Vendors hawked drinks, popcorn, and snacks in the bustling crowd.
"Trainer! Trainer! Hurry, hurry!"
A lively, slightly babyish voice rang out clearly amid the noise.
Tokai Teio was tugging hard at Kuroha's sleeve, bouncing beside him like a spirited bunny.
Her bright eyes shone with pure excitement and longing.
"This is Teio-sama's first Derby! I'm gonna see Chiyono O-senpai win! This is an important learning opportunity!"
Over the past 18 days, with Chiyono O back in recovery,
the two little girls who came every afternoon for basic training quickly became close to her.
Especially Tokai Teio—
once she learned Chiyono O would be running the Japan Derby, she was over the moon.
Not only did she cheer for her senpai, giving her emotional support,
she also pestered Kuroha for days to bring them to see the race.
Although, honestly, even without her pestering,
there's no way he'd miss a race as important as the Japan Derby.
Looking at the little girl clinging to his sleeve, eyes darting around in excitement, Kuroha sighed helplessly.
"Didn't we just watch the Satsuki Sho?"
Teio counted on her fingers before replying seriously:
"Satsuki Sho… is not the same as the Japan Derby!"
"Right, McQueen~?"
Beside her, the purple-haired little lady gave a small, elegant nod despite her speechlessness.
"See? See?"
With McQueen's agreement, Teio got even more excited, shaking Kuroha's sleeve harder.
"So let's go in already! There's so many people out here—I'm gonna lose you!"
Behind them, March and Inari One watched Kuroha struggling with Teio, covering their mouths to stifle laughter.
Once inside, the scene was even more overwhelming.
The stands rose like a massive ring of steps, layer upon layer packed with people—a black sea stretching endlessly.
A giant electronic screen hung in the center, showing pre-race analysis and runner introductions.
The thunder of the announcer's voice blended with the waves of cheers from the crowd, creating an atmosphere that made one's heart race.
The second jewel of the Classic Triple Crown—G1, the Japan Derby—was about to begin!
(End of Chapter)
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