The morning in Tracen Academy carried a familiarity that surprised me. It wasn't quite home. Home was far less grand and infinitely more cluttered. But the way the sun crept across the treetops, scattering shards of light across the manicured paths, and the endless stretch of green surrounding the dormitories… that part felt the same. The air smelled unmistakably of spring. It was crisp, damp from morning dew, with a sweetness that lingered in each breath. You could almost feel your shoulders relax just by standing here, a stark contrast to the smog-tinged air of the city next to it.
Yesterday had been a long day. It was mostly filled with paperwork, polite bows, and the kind of administrative greetings that felt rehearsed on both sides. After finishing the final admission procedures, I was entrusted to the care of one of the student council members, Narita Brian, who was tasked with leading me to where I would be living for the foreseeable future. Miho Dormitory, one of the two student dormitories in Central Tracen.
The walk there had been… quiet. It was not the awkward kind of quiet, but the kind where neither party feels compelled to fill the space with unnecessary words. Brian-san did not seem the type to talk without reason. Her stride was brisk and her posture was unwavering, as if she were measuring each step against a standard only she knew. Her gaze remained fixed forward, focused on the destination. For a time, we moved in near silence. The gravel crunching beneath our shoes was the only real sound between us. It was an efficient, orderly silence that I found strangely comfortable.
That was, until another figure joined us halfway. Hishi Amazon, the leader of Miho Dormitory. From the moment she approached with a confident, easy gait, the air shifted. Where Brian-san's silence felt purposeful and sharp, Hishiama-san's presence carried an innate warmth, even as she held herself with a natural.. motherly(?) feeling ot it. She spoke with ease, her voice high but carrying, the kind of tone that drew people in without forcing them closer.
It became clear almost immediately that the two were familiar with each other, their dynamic was a well-worn path. Brian-san's shoulders seemed to loosen, just a fraction, and she began to respond to Hishiama-san's casual conversation starters. Topics floated between them. There were brief mentions of dorm maintenance, comments on the new students arriving this year, the weather. I did not add much, but I listened, committing the details to memory. Observation was the more prudent course of action.
When we arrived, I learned that Tracen's dormitory rooms were designed for two occupants, no exceptions. Mine was no different.
The first thing that struck me upon entering was the sheer size of the place compared to the cramped room I had been used to at the orphanage. The floorboards shone faintly in the lamplight, polished to a quiet sheen. One side of the room was already claimed by my new roommate. It was neat, organized, and despite its minimalism, it bore faint hints of her personality. A small, resilient-looking plant in a ceramic pot sat on her desk, its leaves stretching eagerly toward the window. A handful of books, stacked in a careful but unhurried way, occupied a corner of the shelf. And then… there were the shoes.
Not just any shoes, but enormous, puffy, croissant-shaped running shoes. I stared at them for a long moment, my mind trying to process the logic behind their design. I was unable to decide whether they were a joke or a genuine choice of footwear. Could anyone really run in those? Or were they simply for show, a strange form of decoration? It was a puzzle without enough data points to solve.
That night, after brief introductions and a few exchanged words, I had gone to bed feeling cautiously optimistic.
Now, as morning light spilled across the floor, I rose and moved toward the window. The curtains were heavier than I expected, made of a thick, light-blocking material. Golden light poured in, cutting through the cool shade and warming the room. I glanced across to the other bed.
There lay my new roommate, Happy Meek. She was a petite figure, curled beneath her blanket, her breathing even and unhurried. Her hair, a light cream color that faded to a soft brown at the tips, spilled haphazardly across the pillow. Even in sleep, her face remained unreadable. Her expression was the same calm, faintly detached look she had worn yesterday.
I had heard a little about her before arriving. Not much. Just that she was known for her slow, deliberate way of speaking and her tendency to use only as many words as were strictly necessary. In a way, that suited me perfectly. I did not mind energetic people, but a quieter roommate was a blessing.
She had been polite enough when we met. Not overly expressive, but not cold either. There was a certain steadiness to her that made me feel like I would not have to second-guess my place here.
I was just thinking of this when a faint sound came from her bed.
"Un…"
Her eyes fluttered half-open. They met mine for a brief second before her left hand rose lazily from under the blanket and gave a small, slow wave.
"Good morning, Meek-senpai," I said, my voice warm but measured.
Her gaze lingered for another beat, unfocused. Then, in a soft, almost airy tone, she replied, "Ooh…"
It was less a greeting than an acknowledgment. It was half-asleep and half-here. Within moments she had sunk back into her pillow, her eyes closing again as she returned to her slumber.
A quiet laugh escaped me. I shook my head, stretching my arms above me until I felt a satisfying series of cracks run up my spine. I winced. "Decidedly ungraceful," I muttered under my breath.
It was Sunday today. There were no classes, no mandatory training schedule. It was just time to settle in, familiarize myself with the place, and perhaps start feeling like I belonged. My possessions were meager, but arranging them would give me something to do, a simple task to ground myself.
I glanced toward the window again. The sunlight had shifted slightly, making the leaves on the trees outside gleam like polished emeralds. A new place, new people, new challenges. There was something quietly thrilling about it, like the moment of calm before a great undertaking.
Drawing in a slow breath, I murmured to the empty room, "Alright. Improvise, adapt, overcome. Know the ground, know the weather, and your victory shall be total."
And with that, my first full day began.
---
As expected of the canteen of the biggest Umamusume academy in the nation.
Even before I stepped fully inside, the sheer size of the dining hall caught my breath. The high ceiling was lined with broad skylights, spilling the mid-morning sun down onto rows upon rows of polished tables. Hundreds, maybe more, of Umamusume filled the seats. Their chatter merged into a constant, energetic tide of voices that washed over me. The smell of hot rice, savory curry spices, and freshly roasted meat was thick in the air, as if the place itself were a giant, benevolent kitchen wearing the disguise of a grand hall.
The scale of it all was staggering. Back home, a "crowded lunch" meant ten girls sharing a wooden table with mismatched chairs. Food was a single large pot of stew that we stretched across the day, with each portion carefully measured. But here? Every table carried plates stacked high enough to look like small, edible hills, and the buffet counters seemed to stretch further than the eye could follow. The number of students, the variety of dishes, the sheer amount of food… it was all on another level entirely.
Meek-senpai and I sat at one of the tables at the far left corner of the hall. From this vantage point, I could take in most of the dining area, though my eyes kept wandering to the far end where the queue for seconds seemed to be a permanent fixture. The table before us was already neatly set with our portions. There was glossy rice, a hearty scoop of rich brown curry, a thick Hamburg steak glistening with sauce, and of course, carrots. They were bright orange, perfectly trimmed, and stacked like a miniature fence around the edge of the plate. Too bad there wasn't any corn dish on today's menu.
I stared for a moment, letting the reality of it sink in. For me, this amount of food was something I would only ever see on my birthday. And even then, it was after pooling together whatever little extras the orphanage could manage for a special treat. But here, this was a normal breakfast. The most absurd part was that we were allowed, even encouraged, to eat like this three times a day. Seven days a week.
A sharp pang of guilt struck me. I wished, if only for a moment, that I could scoop up half of this meal and somehow sneak it back to the children at the orphanage. Still, I couldn't deny it. Just for the food alone, I was profoundly grateful to be here.
"Let's dig in," I said, trying to sound casual, as if this were an everyday occurrence for me.
"Un, let's," Meek-senpai replied softly, her voice barely rising above the hall's din.
I picked up my fork. The first bite was… heavenly. The curry was bold without being overwhelming, each spice distinct yet harmonious. The rice was cooked perfectly, every grain separate and fluffy. Even the Hamburg steak had this delicate balance between a juicy interior and a firm, well-seared crust. Whoever the chefs were, they weren't just cooking to fill bellies; they were professionals of the highest caliber. Still… I couldn't help but compare it to the Director's curry back home. Hers was thicker, rougher in texture, but it carried a warmth that felt different from this refined, expert flavor.
As I kept eating, my eyes wandered again. My portion, which moments ago had felt generous to the point of extravagance, now seemed… small compared to what surrounded me. Many of the other girls had twice as much. Meek-senpai, quiet as always, was calmly working through what looked like three times the volume on my plate, her pace unhurried but relentless. But even that was not the most shocking sight.
Near the center of the hall was a lone table. Or perhaps I should say, a mountain disguised as a table. Every inch of its surface was covered with plates. There were pyramids of rice, towers of Hamburg steaks, and lakes of curry that threatened to spill over their ceramic rims. The owner of this feast was calmly working her way through it, her expression serene, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
Just how did she plan to fit all of that inside her stomach?
I looked back down at my plate, suddenly aware of how meager it was in comparison. Was this just a habit formed from years of eating smaller portions at the orphanage? I was still in my growing years. Surely I should be eating more if I wanted to grow stronger, to compete with these girls.
I finished the last bite of rice, savoring the warm curry taste, then pushed my chair back. "Going for another round," I said, my voice firm with newfound resolve.
"Mm." Meek-senpai nodded without looking up, then added, "Orange juice… please."
The counter was still busy, but the rich scent of fresh food made the wait feel short. I stepped into line, only to find myself standing beside her. The Monster. Her long, light-gray hair fell almost to her knees, catching the light in soft, shimmering ripples. Near the top, a darker gray patch stood out, with a stubborn ahoge springing up from an almost white section of hair just beneath it. Her bangs framed her face neatly, and a black-and-yellow five-diamond hairband held everything in place. She was the same girl demolishing that impossible feast earlier. Also, it was impossible to don't know her.
After a breakfast like hers, surely she couldn't—
"More," she said suddenly, cutting through my thoughts. Her voice was simple, direct, and the word carried a weight that was both literal and figurative.
The head chef, a tall lady with her sleeves rolled high up her powerful arms, grinned wide at her. "Hoo, lively as ever, huh, Oguri-chan?"
"Un. I'm ready for the main course," the girl, Oguri, replied with a serious gleam in her eye.
"Yosh!" The chef flexed one arm, showing off a bicep that could probably lift a whole sack of rice with ease. Then she scooped an enormous, almost comical, helping of food onto Oguri-san's tray.
I stood frozen, watching as Oguri-san carefully balanced the new load and carried it away without a second thought. So that was the standard. That was the level of fuel intake you needed to become a legendary Umamusume. My modest appetite wasn't going to cut it.
"Madam!" The words left my mouth before I could think. "Give me another round… hm, give me around a third of Oguri-san's main course!" Gradual, strategic increase seemed wiser than outright attempting suicide by food.
The chef laughed, a booming, hearty sound. "Ou! Coming right up." As she worked, she glanced at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Are you a new student? Haven't seen you around before."
"Correct, I am—uh, I mean, yes. I am. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"I see. You look skinny! You should eat more, alright? At the Center, you don't have to worry about food. Just eat a lot, grow bigger, and get faster. You hear me?"
"Yes, that is the plan. Thank you, Madam."
She gave me a hearty nod before handing over my plate. It was heavier than before, but nothing compared to Oguri-san's monumental load.
When I returned to the table with my food and Meek-senpai's juice, she eyed the plate, then me. She gave a slow, deliberate nod, her expression unreadable but somehow approving. "That's… the right… amount," she said.
"Indeed," I agreed, settling back into my seat. With free and plentiful food, there was no excuse. I needed to improve my body, not just in size, but in muscle density. If what the Madam from earlier said was true, it seemed I was lighter than most Umamusume here. While that wasn't necessarily a disadvantage, it meant my raw power was lacking. Without it, I could not reach the explosiveness and speeds I needed. And especially speed, on the turf, speed was everything.
Halfway through my second plate, Meek-senpai spoke again. "Un… after this, let's check out the campus. I'll accompany you."
"Thank you, Meek-senpai!" I had been meaning to ask her for a tour anyway, but she beat me to it. My chest felt lighter. Maybe it was just the food talking, but my mood was soaring.
When we finished, she led me across the sprawling academy grounds. The gym was massive, filled with equipment for both strength and speed. The pool shimmered under the sun, clearly designed for endurance training as much as for relaxation. The tracks looped endlessly, turf and dirt courses alike, and I could already imagine myself running there, the wind roaring in my ears. And lastly, the classrooms stood in neat and systematic rows.
Everywhere we went, I saw other Umamusume training, studying, or simply chatting, but always with that same unyielding spark in their eyes. Every day here was a challenge, and they welcomed it. Trainers moved among them, clipboards in hand, analyzing times, postures, and progress.
I couldn't help but wonder. Would I be able to catch a trainer's attention? Without one, the Twinkle Series was out of reach.
Alright. My next mission was clear. Get faster, get stronger, and impress a trainer enough to choose me when the times come.
And Meek-senpai's explanations? Well… she was very cute. She tried her best.
"This... is... the gym... for... muscles..." she'd say, pointing with a slow, deliberate finger. I couldn't help but smile.