This "retreat" was less like a hospital and more like a top-class Japanese-style garden estate built deep in the mountains.
The air carried the fresh scent of grass and earth, and the gentle murmur of flowing water filled the silence.
Ancient eaves and carved beams adorned the refined architecture, exuding understated luxury in every corner.
Led by an attendant, Kuroha followed a covered walkway until they reached a tatami room facing a perfectly composed kare-sansui rock garden.
And there she was—the one he had come to meet.
Mejiro Ardan.
She sat quietly, dressed in a simple yet elegant home kimono. Her beauty was flawless, her grace impeccable—like a celestial maiden stepping out from a classical painting.
Her light blue, glassy hair spilled down like a waterfall, a few strands gently resting against the front of her kimono.
But the perfection was broken by the sight of one leg, immobilized in white plaster.
"Mr. Kuroha, welcome," she said, raising her head with a perfectly measured smile, betraying not the slightest hint of pain.
She inclined her head slightly, gesturing for him to sit across from her.
"Hello, Miss Ardan. I've long heard your name," Kuroha replied politely.
Before arriving, he had assumed he would be meeting the head of the Mejiro family—or perhaps McQueen's mother.
He had not expected Ardan to invite him alone. The thought left him mildly surprised.
As he sat, his eyes flicked to the cast on her leg. That was the mark left by her fierce battle in the recent Japan Derby.
Born with "legs as fragile as glass," every time Mejiro Ardan ran, it was a gamble.
She seemed not to notice his gaze as she began preparing tea, her every movement smooth and deliberate, steeped in elegance and etiquette.
Even with her injury, her composure was unshaken.
Before long, she set a steaming cup of fragrant tea before him.
"Please," she said softly.
After a few brief pleasantries, she finally came to the point.
"To be honest, I invited you here today because I have a request."
Her tone remained gentle, but her beautiful blue eyes held a trace of earnestness that could not be hidden.
Kuroha glanced again at the cast on her leg. He could already guess her purpose for summoning him.
"Please, go ahead," he said after only a moment's thought.
With his permission, Ardan set down what she was holding and touched her cast lightly.
"My leg was injured during the Japan Derby… According to the doctors, it will take at least four months before I can walk normally again."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, tinged with frustration.
"And if I want to recover enough to return to the track… it could take a full year."
Kuroha's gaze sharpened.
Through the feedback of his Body and Breath Perception, he knew she spoke the truth. Her leg was in a dangerously fragile state—being able to recover at all was already a miracle.
One more bad step, and she might have been forced into retirement.
In history, it was true—Ardan had suffered a severe injury in the Japan Derby. She had run herself to the limit.
The race was on May 29. She would not return until May 27 of the following year.
"I heard from Sakura Chiyono O that you… have a special technique for treating leg injuries," she said.
Kuroha's hand paused briefly on his teacup, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"I know this is presumptuous," she admitted with a faint, self-deprecating smile.
"After all, you're already McQueen's trainer, and you have four horse girls in your team to manage."
"But… I don't want to waste an entire year."
Kuroha listened without interruption. He knew all too well what losing a year meant to a horse girl in her True Blooming period—the fleeting three years of peak growth.
"I want to maintain my condition as much as possible within my limits, to prepare for next year's return.
Even if it's just basic physical upkeep and mental conditioning—it's better than complete stagnation."
She drew a steadying breath.
"So I know this request is sudden, and I understand your time is valuable."
Her voice trembled ever so slightly.
"That is why the Mejiro family is willing to offer you a private, uninhabited island for your summer training camp this year."
"The island's training facilities are fully equipped. Its accommodations and recovery amenities surpass anything available at any public camp."
It was a reward no trainer could easily refuse.
But as she spoke, the perfect mask of elegance finally cracked.
Her expression dimmed, her eyes glimmering with a deep longing for the track—and a fear of the future.
The next moment, this proud horse girl from the prestigious Mejiro family… lowered her noble head before Kuroha.
Her blue hair spilled forward like glassy silk, hiding her face.
"Please… I'm begging you. Help me."
The air seemed to freeze. The only sounds were her faint, trembling breaths—and the weight of her plea.
Kuroha did not rush to lift her, nor did he answer immediately.
He set down his teacup with a quiet clink that seemed to echo in the silent room.
"I accept the weight of your request," he said evenly.
His voice was calm, unaffected by her noble status, the promise of an island, or the beauty before him.
"But before anything else—please, lift your head, Miss Ardan."
She flinched slightly, then slowly looked up.
Without her realizing it, Kuroha had risen and moved to her side, crouching so that his eyes were level with her injured leg.
His gaze was steady, almost piercing, as though he could see through the plaster to the truth beneath.
"I need to examine your injury first, to determine whether I can help you," he said, his tone professional and serious.
(End of Chapter)
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