"Trainer—!"
Inari One waved toward Kuroha.
Fujimasa March, however, jogged straight up to his side.
"Good morning."
Kuroha smiled and rubbed the silver-haired girl's head.
March leaned in slightly to enjoy the touch, but the moment she realized what she was doing, she cleared her throat twice and quickly straightened her posture.
A faint blush lingered on her cheeks, and though she tried to remain composed, her twitching gray ears betrayed her flustered heart.
"Good morning, Trainer," she replied softly.
"You're here pretty early today," Inari One chimed in from behind March, grinning brightly.
Kuroha chuckled. "Don't I always get here this early?"
After a brief moment of banter, Kuroha shifted to business.
"The Tokyo Derby starts today at 5 p.m. This morning's training is basically canceled. We'll focus on warm-up drills and tactical reinforcement."
At those words, the blush vanished from March's face, replaced by razor-sharp focus. The shy young girl from moments ago was gone — in her place stood a top-class racehorse, fully braced to enter the battlefield.
The three walked through the quiet morning campus until they reached Kuroha's private training room.
Once the two Uma Musume sat down, Kuroha unfolded a detailed diagram of Oi Racetrack's course and spread it out on the table.
He was already confident in March's strength — nine parts out of ten. But he still intended to give her a full situational analysis.
This wasn't just for victory.
It was to hone March's race awareness.
The Tokyo Derby was merely one stepping stone. Ahead of her lay countless battles, easy or grueling.
Only by understanding every shift in the race could she avoid panic when it mattered most.
Only then could she take full control of a race's pace in the future.
Once he had their attention, Kuroha spoke evenly.
"You both know it — March, you're going to be everyone's focus today.
"After the Haneda Hai, every trainer and Uma Musume will have studied your tactics under a microscope.
"Except for your few races back in Kasamatsu, I've mostly used a Front Runner strategy for you."
His finger traced the starting gate on the track diagram and circled it.
"To stop your Front Runner style and avoid getting dragged into your rhythm, they'll try everything they can to tangle you up right from the start — to throw off your pace and drain your stamina."
He began sketching with a pencil, illustrating possible 'encirclement' tactics.
Some scenarios showed a pack gunning for the lead together, sandwiching March in the middle.
Others had "suicidal" rivals sprinting alongside her no matter the cost, fighting for the inside lane, or forcing her wide until she had no choice but to slow down — even if they ruined their own race in the process.
In this Tokyo Derby, there were 15 entrants. Fourteen opponents, plus their trainers — 28 brains to work against.
Especially among local trainers, you could never predict just how absurd some of their tactics might be.
March stared at the diagram, her brows knitting. The seemingly messy lines formed a suffocating net full of malice in her eyes.
"Trainer, I—"
She was about to say she'd simply run faster to break free, but Kuroha raised a hand to stop her.
"I'm not showing you this to make you feel pressured," he said with a calm smile. "I'm showing you because these so-called traps… are nothing more than paper walls."
"Paper walls…?"
"That's right. And the reason is— you, March."
"Your top speed, your acceleration, your stamina — these are the true rule-breakers on the track. Against overwhelming strength, these 'traps' will be torn apart in an instant."
He drove the pencil hard across the diagram, drawing a bold arrow straight down the opening stretch, almost punching through the paper.
"Remember this. When the gate opens, don't hesitate. Don't probe.
"Unleash every ounce of power you've built up until now in the very first hundred meters!
"Like a red-hot blade through butter, cut straight through their formation!
"Make it so that anyone who tries to get close to you can't even catch your slipstream!"
His voice carried an undeniable force.
"While they're still fighting each other for position, you'll already be far ahead, controlling the entire race from the front."
Then, with a hint of humor, he added, "But this isn't a full-on runaway."
Kuroha disliked using the Big Escape tactic unless it was absolutely necessary.
The last trace of doubt vanished from March's crimson eyes, replaced by blazing resolve.
"Yes, Trainer. I'll use my speed to shatter every obstacle."
From her seat, Inari One leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly.
In her view, March hadn't yet activated her "True Self" state — but faint silver light already flickered around her, responding to her racing spirit.
"March… you're just one step away now," Inari thought with genuine joy, then glanced toward her own trainer.
She didn't expect Kuroha to look right back at her and wink.
"…!!!"
Inari froze for a split second, her brain short-circuiting.
Her face warmed, and she quickly turned away.
"?"
Kuroha looked puzzled at her sudden avoidance. He had only looked her way because he noticed March showing signs of stepping into the [Domain] stage.
Thinking Inari had recognized that he was stoking March's fighting spirit, he winked as if to say, "Don't say anything."
But why had she turned away like that?
Putting the moment aside, Kuroha nodded slightly, his eyes filled with absolute trust in March.
He rolled up the diagram, his tone easing but still carrying the seriousness of a pre-battle briefing.
"That's the core of the strategy. Now, all that's left is to trust yourself — and trust the legs that carry your dream."
He stood, looking at both girls.
"Go. Do your final warm-up. Get your body completely ready for the fight this afternoon."
"Understood!" March and Inari One answered in unison, their voices brimming with fighting spirit.
In the blink of an eye, it was evening.
Inside Oi Racetrack, the air was thick with tension.
The stands were packed to the brim, the crowd's roar merging into a vast sea of noise. And at the center of it all — one name: Fujimasa March.
They were here to see if the mare who had dominated the Haneda Hai with overwhelming strength could do the same today.
In the prep room, the tension was almost tangible.
Every trainer about to send out a runner for the Tokyo Derby wore a grave expression, repeating last-minute instructions.
Their tactics might differ, but their goal was the same—
Stop the silver storm at any cost!
"Ladies and gentlemen! The moment you've all been waiting for — the Tokyo Derby is about to begin!"
The announcer's voice boomed across Oi Racetrack.
(End of Chapter)
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