The moment Kitahara noticed Special Week standing quietly by his side, he immediately guessed the source of his earlier unease. He couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
Grass Wonder-san, Grass Wonder-san… How did you manage to drop the ball again?
And fine, dropping the ball was one thing, but please don't redirect your resentment toward innocent bystanders…
Hm?
Initially, Kitahara had fully expected Grass Wonder to be staring daggers at him by now—perhaps even quietly reaching for a hidden knife behind her back.
Yet, when he discreetly glanced her way, he found Grass Wonder surprisingly calm. Her expression held a bit of disappointment, sure, but compared to her previous gloom, she seemed vastly improved—definitely not reaching for any hidden blades.
In fact, once she noticed his gaze, Grass Wonder offered him a gentle, grateful smile.
Kitahara froze.
He might be a bit slow when it came to certain emotions, but this was balanced by heightened sensitivity to hostility. Back at school, when that reckless Uma Musume had attacked him, he'd immediately sensed the lack of malicious intent, hence he'd held back himself, resulting in that messy, inconclusive fight.
Similarly, Kitahara could now clearly sense that Grass Wonder's friendly demeanor wasn't feigned. Her gratitude was genuine, and there was absolutely no ill will toward him.
What's going on here?
It wasn't that he feared Grass Wonder might have suddenly taken a liking to him—her heart clearly still belonged to Special Week. She showed no signs of unusual interest in him personally. But this just deepened the mystery—he had no idea what exactly she was thinking.
Could it be that after my earlier attempts to help, she sees me as an ally? Or perhaps she views me as something like Special Week's older brother, essentially treating me like her future brother-in-law?
Kitahara suspected it was probably one of these two—or perhaps both.
Yet, asking Grass Wonder directly was obviously out of the question. Such a confrontation might inadvertently provoke an incident he'd rather avoid. It was best to leave things as they were.
Having made this decision, Kitahara concluded his silent exchange with Grass Wonder and turned toward Special Week, kindly addressing her curious expression. After explaining her minor confusion, he continued chatting casually with the group as they returned to campus, encountering no further trouble along the way.
Back at school, they ate lunch together, briefly spent time organizing their new purchases in the activity room, chatted a while longer, and eventually parted ways to their respective plans.
Once Kitahara returned to his dorm, instead of immediately diving into his usual idle routine, he settled in front of his computer to review the plans Agnes Digital had given him earlier regarding next week's basic races.
After quickly verifying there were no issues, Kitahara set the files aside and pulled out his phone, opening the trainers' group chat.
Ever since the Chairwoman announced the new policy on Monday, the trainers' chat had been unusually lively—messages flooding in constantly, centering around finding suitable tantou and team members.
Kitahara himself had no such worries—his team easily met the requirements already. Yet, that didn't stop him from occasionally chiming in with some questionable—ahem—helpful suggestions.
Of course, not all trainers were panicking. Some, like Kitahara, had quickly found new team members to meet the quota. Among them was a trainer Kitahara often chatted with, Komata Hajime.
Despite her masculine-sounding name, Komata Hajime was actually female. She'd joined Tracen two years earlier than Kitahara, originally managing one lesser-known Uma Musume. After the Chairwoman's announcement, she'd swiftly recruited a second tantou—someone Kitahara knew well.
Tamamo Cross, affectionately known as "Tama" or "Zako-nee."
She'd previously crossed paths with Kitahara and was currently Oguri Cap's roommate—a notably strong Uma Musume.
As soon as Komata announced Tamamo Cross as her new tantou, congratulations poured in—but the conversation quickly took a strange turn.
[Futou Daichi]:Wait a minute…why do I get this weird sense of déjà vu from Komata-san's team? It feels like…
[Nishiguchi Ei]:Like kids playing house?
[Futou Daichi]:Exactly, that's it!
[Komata Hajime]:…
[Komata Hajime]:Shut up! It's not like I chose to look this way!
Maybe due to her family's poverty, childhood nutrition issues, or just pure misfortune, Komata was physically petite—completely flat-chested and standing only around 143 centimeters. Rumor had it she'd even secretly added some height padding.
But worst of all, she had a childlike face to match. On her very first day at Tracen, coworkers nearly mistook her for a lost middle-schooler and almost escorted her off campus, eventually causing such a fuss that even the Chairwoman had to intervene.
Unfortunately, her original tantou was similarly petite—despite being in high school, she easily passed as an elementary student, making them sisters in misfortune. Tamamo Cross, the newest addition, wasn't quite that extreme, but still clearly looked closer to a junior-high student despite being in high school herself.
Honestly, if the Chairwoman joined their group, calling them a group of elementary-school siblings visiting the campus wouldn't be a stretch. The chat had already joked about dubbing them the "Loli Team."
[Komata Hajime]:Loli my ass! Your whole family's a loli!
[Komata Hajime]:Anyway, someone recently reverse-designated me as her trainer. Soon I'll have my third tantou—and she's different! Tall, great figure—so quit your weird ideas already.
Reverse-designation referred to talented Uma Musume proactively choosing a specific trainer for themselves.
[Kitahara Sota]:Reverse-designation? Impressive.
[Kitahara Sota]:Who is she?
[Komata Hajime]:She calls herself Super Creek.
Seeing Komata's reply, Kitahara silently lit a mental candle for her.
It's over. She's doomed.
Kitahara hadn't interacted personally with Super Creek, but as a transmigrator, he knew quite a bit about her.
Super Creek, or sometimes jokingly called "Super Stream," or "Super Freak."
Despite the "Super" in her name, the key point wasn't size alone—though she was certainly well-endowed, practically at "housewife" level. Even more significant was her famously overwhelming maternal instinct. She harbored an almost obsessive passion for caring for small children.
The problem: there were no children at Tracen Academy.
So, how did she channel this passion?
Simple: she forced those around her into becoming her substitute "children."
No, she couldn't literally regress them into babies—but dressing them up as toddlers was enough to satisfy her craving.
Lullabies, rattles, baby clothes, bibs, bottles…
Aside from Kitahara, nobody at Tracen yet understood why Super Creek kept such items on hand.
But it wouldn't be long before Komata's team discovered exactly what they were for.
Kitahara felt absolutely certain Super Creek's reverse-designation had nothing to do with Komata's trainer skills, and everything to do with undisclosed intentions.
Yet, Kitahara refrained from warning Komata.
Partially because he couldn't explain how he knew, and also partly because of his self-preservation instinct. A lazy, carefree trainer like himself was exactly the kind of person Super Creek would eagerly target as an "infant substitute."
If he attracted her attention—especially with Eclipse's "help"—he might soon find himself dressed in a bib, forced into cradles and fed milk every day.
Sorry, Komata-san. Someday I'll buy you some adult formula to compensate.
Feeling slightly guilty, Kitahara continued reading the chat, noting other familiar names:
Futou Daichi: Another male trainer he'd chatted with before. Alongside his original lesser-known tantou, he'd recently recruited a team member named Tosho Reform—someone Kitahara knew to be notoriously troublesome. Kitahara silently prayed for Futou's blood pressure.
Nishiguchi Ei: The female trainer who often jokingly advertised funeral services. Her tantou was Mejiro McQueen, a close friend of Tokai Teio. Recently, she'd easily recruited two additional lesser-known Uma Musume connected to the Mejiro family, having one of the smoothest team expansions so far.
However, trainers who effortlessly completed their teams within a week were few and far between. Most trainers were still struggling—some even hospitalized due to pelvis-related accidents, missing their best opportunities to recruit, forced to wait for incoming transfers instead.
Thankfully, none of this concerned Kitahara. He was a rookie with a robust seven-member team—well beyond requirements—even if the Chairwoman doubled her demands, he'd still be safe.
Yet something else bothered him far more.
"Just as expected...something's definitely off."
After reading through the group chat, Kitahara thoughtfully stroked his chin, eyes narrowing slightly.
He'd long noticed subtle anomalies, only recently becoming concerned.
Though he'd typically skipped plotlines when playing "Uma Musume" before transmigration, he knew the basics. For instance, Tokai Teio and Agnes Tachyon shouldn't have debuted simultaneously.
In the original timeline, Tachyon's only G1 victory was the Satsuki Sho. But Tokai Teio also targeted and won that same race. It was a direct contradiction.
Moreover, in the anime, Tokai Teio debuted after Special Week, yet currently, Special Week was set to debut a year after Teio—and alongside Oguri Cap.
Until now, Kitahara attributed such discrepancies to his own presence disrupting the timeline. But after hearing Hayakawa Tazuna's announcement about Uma Musume population surges, he sensed a deeper, systemic issue—perhaps the timeline itself was fundamentally skewed.
Rather than a sudden population boom, perhaps Uma Musume from various timelines had converged simultaneously, drastically altering history and outcomes.
This might explain Teio debuting ahead of Special Week, Oguri Cap's placement, and many other oddities cropping up among recent trainees.
Not only were numbers and timelines disturbed—thinking back to certain past incidents, Kitahara suspected something larger was unfolding behind the scenes.
Although he wasn't religious, he knew from experience the Three Goddesses indeed existed—or at least their influence did. The recent events were far too significant for them to overlook.
Yet if they noticed, why hadn't they intervened?
Was this turmoil actually within their intended design—or perhaps they'd already intervened, leaving the current chaos as the lesser evil?
Kitahara leaned back, gazing thoughtfully outside the window.
It was all too grand and complex for a lazy trainer like him.
He'd leave these headaches to someone more qualified.