"Trainer! I'm so hungr—"
Inari One's lively voice froze the moment she pushed the door open.
Her bright, fox-like eyes instantly widened, her gaze locking onto the living room sofa as if drawn by a magnet.
"Uh..."
She coughed awkwardly twice, quietly closing the door behind her.
Like a little fox creeping into a chicken coop, she tiptoed to Kuroha's other side.
Seeing Fujimasa March's messy, half-slipped clothing, Inari One covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.
"Trainer, you two weren't—"
Before she could finish, Kuroha gave her a firm pat on the head.
"Mm~"
"Quit fooling around. I saved breakfast for you, so go fill that bottomless stomach of yours."
"Hehe~" Inari One grinned, slipping into the kitchen like a thief.
Moments later, she reappeared with a slice of bread between her teeth, holding a half-full glass of milk, and quietly sat down at the other end of the sofa.
She tucked her legs under herself, watching Fujimasa March's unguarded sleeping face with great interest.
After a while, her amusement faded, and she leaned against Kuroha.
"Trainer~ don't we have any training tasks today?" she asked lazily, chin propped on her hand.
Yesterday's race had been no challenge for her at all.
Forget intensity—Inari One felt like she'd just gone for a light jog before the race ended. She didn't even get the thrill of competing.
"What's this? Not in the mood to slack off today, but suddenly eager to train?" Kuroha teased.
Her cheeks puffed in protest. "I wasn't slacking! I was just tired and needed a break!"
"If you want to train, there's no need to rush. Progress comes from pacing yourself—work and rest in balance."
Kuroha's gaze swept over Fujimasa March, sleeping soundly on his lap, then to Inari One nibbling her bread.
"That said, rest doesn't mean neglect. You still need to maintain your basic fitness. I'll have you do some light recovery exercises this afternoon."
"Eh—"
Though she sounded disappointed, her ears perked at the mention of afternoon training.
"Fine, fine. Trainer's word is law. So what about this morning?"
"This morning?" Kuroha tilted his head with a small smile, giving his phone a slight shake.
"McQueen told me yesterday afternoon that her elder sister wanted to see me. If I had time, I should come to the Mejiro estate."
He recalled McQueen, still catching her breath after training, shyly relaying Mejiro Ardan's invitation.
It was an offer hard to refuse. After all, though he was now McQueen's trainer, he'd never set foot in the Mejiro household, much less met her family formally.
If they took the initiative to invite him and he refused, it would be rude both emotionally and socially.
"The Mejiro family..." Inari One swallowed the last of her bread, her ears twitching in surprise. "That's one of the famous noble families, right?"
"An invitation from McQueen's sister—what do you think?"
"So you're… meeting the parents?"
"Don't talk nonsense!"
He lightly tapped her head again, though a subtle flicker passed through his eyes.
The Mejiro family was one of the most prestigious names in the Central circuit—comparable to Symboli Rudolf's Symboli family, or First Ruby's illustrious household.
Their traditions and influence ran deep.
Mejiro Ardan was the same Ardan who had been overtaken by an explosive burst from Sakura Chiyono O in the Japan Derby, narrowly missing the championship.
Kuroha knew her well enough by reputation—
Born into the noble Mejiro family with legs as fragile as glass, she could have resigned herself to fate.
Instead, she embodied grace and gentleness both inwardly and outwardly.
She'd only ever won a single graded race—G2 Takamatsu-no-miya Kinen—but that wasn't what stood out most to Kuroha.
Two things about her were unforgettable.
First, her love for all things from the East—ingredients, theatre, culture.
Second… her "Fat Horse" nickname.
Compared to McQueen, who was often teased for being "chubby," Ardan's weight was actually higher.
From Kuroha's perspective, though, that was probably just because Ardan was overly well-nourished.
And that "nutrition"…
His eyes drifted to Inari One. She froze mid-chew, ears twitching suspiciously.
"..."
"Seriously, how does this little fox stay so short but still grow that much up top?" he grumbled inwardly.
Checking the time, he finally rose.
"The car from the Mejiro family should be here any minute. I'm heading out."
He carefully laid Fujimasa March down on the sofa, then called to Inari One:
"Play by yourself for a while. I'll be back soon."
"Bye-bye, Trainer," she said around a sip of milk.
Shaking his head with a smile, Kuroha stepped out the door.
Inari One licked the last crumbs of bread from her lips, her tail swaying lazily behind her.
...
Oi Tracen Academy – Main Gate
Outside, the air was crisp, the street quiet.
A driver in a perfectly pressed uniform stood waiting beside a polished black sedan. As soon as he saw Kuroha, he bowed and opened the door.
"Mr. Kuroha, please."
His tone was polite yet formal—the hallmark of a household bred in strict etiquette.
Kuroha inhaled deeply before stepping inside.
A faint, refined fragrance lingered in the car, understated yet elegant.
The door shut softly, sealing off the outside world, and the car rolled smoothly into the bustling Tokyo streets.
Soon, they left the busy main roads for a serene tree-lined avenue.
The tall, verdant canopy gave Kuroha pause.
"Seriously… the Mejiro family really does like their estates tucked away in deep, old-fashioned forest. Feels like I've gone back a hundred years."
If he remembered right, even in the anime, the Mejiro family's retreat looked like this.
After a final turn, the view opened up—
A grand, traditional Japanese-style mansion loomed ahead.
The sedan followed the drive up to the imposing main entrance and came to a stop.
Two lines of impeccably dressed attendants stood ready. One stepped forward, opening the car door with a bow.
"Welcome to the Mejiro Family's retreat, Mr. Kuroha. Miss Ardan has been waiting for you in the tea room."
So it was a retreat.
Kuroha stepped out, gazing up at the dignified architecture with quiet awe.
The Mejiro family truly lived up to its name in the world of horse girls—wealthy, powerful, and steeped in tradition.
(End of Chapter)
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