The contrast between the scorching day and the cool, mellow night of summer was quite something. The temperature hadn't dropped significantly, but the absence of the sun's direct assault was enough to cool down someone who had just been running at just shy of 45 km/h.
"Huff... huff..." I regulated my breathing, falling into a steady, rhythmic pattern as I ran along the designated blue road that snaked through the neighborhoods around the Academy.
Fuchu, where the Academy was founded, was a relatively good place to live. It had a comfortable environment, supported by a surprising amount of natural beauty even though it was still within the Tokyo Metropolitan area. We Umamusume could run on our own dedicated lane while enjoying these perks.
I was alone, on the path illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, running through a quiet residential area on my way back to the Academy. This was the final leg of my 10km night run. After the hydro-dynamics training in the pool this afternoon, the Chief had assigned me this additional self-training regimen. The goal was to keep up with my body's increasing limit ceiling. Training was the way to push limits further; if I didn't even reach my current limit, how could I possibly push beyond it? At least that was the logic I believed in.
Anyway, the decision had been made. We were going ahead with the Hopeful Stakes. But as a safety net, and as a readiness test for the G1 at the end of December, I would first run in the G3 Kyoto Junior Stakes in early November. A medium-distance turf race on the inner track of the Kyoto Racecourse. Luckily, that meant I wouldn't have to face the infamous Yodo Hill on the outer track. Not yet, at least.
Speaking of the Yodo Hill, or rather, uphill slopes in general, my long strides had a distinct disadvantage compared to a pitch-running style. On an incline, I had to engage my second gear or at least consciously increase my turnover rate just to keep up or hold my position. That was a considerable expense in my stamina management. The Kyoto inner track had one such uphill slope right on the backstretch, a tactical disadvantage on top of my already comparatively low cruising speed on the straights.
My debut race at Nakayama had also featured uphill slopes, but they were positioned on the homestretch. During the early phase of that race, I was sitting at the back, and during the final spurt, I had already engaged Gear Two. The impact of homestretch uphills on my overall strategy had been minimal. That was why facing uphills on the backstretch would be a new challenge.
This long night run was designed to help train my stamina to deal with this specific problem, to make sure I would still have enough fuel in the tank for my last spurt even after spending some in the uphills. Although I believed for a 2000m race I should have enough in reserve, it was always better to have more stamina than to have nothing at all.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My footsteps echoed a little louder as the blue asphalt of the running lane changed to the concrete paving of the shopping district. That meant I was close to the academy. The dorm curfew was still a while away.
I might as well buy some snacks. My tired brain and body were craving salt.
I scanned the stores lining the sides of the road. Cafés, family restaurants, grocery stores, fast-food vendors... too many options. I decided to settle for the trusted convenience store. At least I was familiar with what they had to offer.
I jogged over to the brightly lit store I often went to, but just as my hand touched the handle of the automatic door, I heard someone coughing behind me, the sound ragged and wet. I turned at the sound and saw a fellow Tracen Academy student, also in her tracksuit, was leaning over with her hands on her knees. I could see her back heaving as she struggled to breathe.
"Pushing yourself too far?" I murmured to myself, observing her.
She straightened up slowly, raising a water bottle to her lips. She tilted it back desperately. A moment later, a raw cry of agony and despair ripped from her throat as not a single drop of water came out.
"Eh!? It's already empty!? Cough! Cough!"
Her face, illuminated by the convenience store's fluorescent glow, was shockingly pale for someone I assumed had just been doing a similar night run.
Is she not feeling well? Even someone like her can get sick, huh?
I entered the convenience store as the chime of the door announced my arrival. I moved quickly, grabbing a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips, a carton of chocolate milk, and a bottle of chilled mineral water from the cooler. A quick glance out the window confirmed she was still in the same spot, resting against the wall. I paid and exited with the plastic bag crinkling in my hand.
"Here," I said, holding out the bottle of water to her hunched-over form. "It's just mineral water, though."
"Ah! Thank you, so much!" She frantically snatched the bottle from my hand and immediately began to drink it in one long, desperate gulp.
"Cough! Cough! Thank—cough!" Water sprayed from her mouth as she was wracked by another coughing fit.
"Slow down," I said simply.
"Un," she nodded, taking the next few sips much more slowly.
I scanned her as my initial assessment solidified into a firm conclusion. She was not in her best condition. If she was sick, why was she training, especially at night? Her legs were visibly shaking, sweat beaded on her pale face, and the weak, almost listless waving of her tail spoke of a body pushed far past its limits.
"Fuah... once again, thank you, Copenhagen-san," she said while managing to straighten up. She tried to tidy her short, brown bob-cut hair, but it was practically drenched in sweat.
"Un," I nodded. "You know me?"
"I regard you as my rival, of course I know you!" she declared as I saw a spark of fire returning to her eyes. "We ran against each other on the first day of the Selection Races, in the fourth race—"
"And you won," I finished her line. So she still remembered it.
"Yeah," she said, a weak smile flickering on her lips before a brighter, more forceful one covered it up. "But that alone isn't enough! I'll also beat the 'you' of right now—cough! cough!"
"Sure," I said, my tone even. "When the time comes, I won't yield a millimeter. But are you okay?" Her frequent, ragged coughs were concerning.
"I'm fine! A little fever won't stop me, hehe," she said, obviously trying to sound cheerful.
"A little fever can lead to a bigger problem if not treated," I sighed. "Have you told your trainer?"
"Don't worry! Tomorrow, I'll be fine as a fiddle!" she insisted.
"Fine, just do—" As I was speaking, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw 'Chief' on the caller ID. "Apologies, wait a second."
Oh, right. I'd forgotten I was still wearing a GPS tracker for this run, and that it was being monitored wirelessly by the Chief. It felt like being stalked, but it was for training analysis and security. Me staying in one spot for this long must have tripped an alert.
I answered the call and quickly explained that I was meandering to buy something and had met an acquaintance on the way. After a reassured sigh from the other side of the line, we cut the call.
"Your trainer?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Somebody didn't tell him about her self-training late at night? Fufu—cough!"
"Yes, it was my trainer," I replied flatly. "I found somebody dying of thirst on the side of the road, so I had to stop my run." I turned slightly, pointing at the small tracking device clipped to the back of my tracksuit.
"It's part of your training regime? So the rumor is true, huh?" she murmured with her eyes widening.
"I don't know which rumor you mean, but this is actually the first time I've trained at night," I explained.
"I see... even you are increasing your already notorious training," she said with a new even bigger fire igniting in her gaze. "Then I won't lose!" She suddenly whipped out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and held it to her ear. "Trainer! Add to my training menu for tomorrow!"
Without even waiting for a reply, she ended the call. Her energy and enthusiasm were infectious, almost making me forget how unwell she had looked just moments before.
"Hehe, with this, I won't be left behind!" she declared triumphantly.
"Sure..." I said, though I firmly believed she'd be better off recovering from her fever. Still, her spirit was radiating so clearly, it was hard to believe she was sick at all.
"Alright! I've had enough rest! How about we run back to the Academy together?" she proposed.
"Fine by me," I shrugged, the plastic bag of snacks hanging from my right hand.
We started off, running side by side on the designated blue lane. For a few hundred meters, we kept a steady, comfortable pace. Then, suddenly, she sped up. I saw her pull ahead and instinctively increased my own tempo to catch up. But she just accelerated further, glancing back at me with a smirk.
Alright. So that was how it was going to be.
It was easy to know what would happen next. This jog back to the academy had just become a race.
Our impromptu race back to the academy was a frantic, breathless affair. It ended, by pure chance, right as we arrived at the main gate, passing by Tazuna-san on her evening patrol. It was only then that she seemed to materialize out of the evening air, catching up to us with an effortless, gliding stride and stopping us dead in our tracks. We got scolded with a firm but fair lecture for violating the 50km/h speed limit on the Umamusume-designated lane.
Getting scolded was one thing. But the question that burned in my mind, the one that made the lecture fade into a dull buzz, was how? How had she, who had been walking calmly just moments before, caught up to two Umamusume running at near top speed? That was the night I found out about another, even more bewildering taboo.
---
"What are you looking at, Ko-chan?"
Oguri-san's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I had paused my set of shoulder presses, my eyes fixed on the window of the gym, watching the familiar lady in green walking purposefully across the campus path. I remembered what had happened that night, and my brain still refused to fully believe it, except—
"Nothing, really..." I shook my head as I set the heavy weights down on the rack with a soft clang.
"Okay," she said simply while continuing her steady pace on the treadmill.
After dispersing the thought about Tazuna-san, I decided it was time for a break and to rehydrate. I walked over to my sports bag, pulled out a bottle, and took a long drink as I scanned the gym. It was a bit crowded, but the powerful air conditioners worked wonders, keeping the temperature comfortable. It seemed we weren't the only ones who had decided to evacuate indoors from the onslaught of the September sun. The fact that the gym could be this "bit crowded" and still feel spacious showed just how massive it was. The variety of equipment was also impressive; there was no sign of a queue building up for any particular set.
In one corner, a group of rather famous Umamusume and their trainer were also training. Mejiro McQueen, Narita Brian, Silence Suzuka, Winning Ticket, Rice Shower, Special Week, and Trainer Ikuno. Team Sirius, in their full, formidable squad, was there. And for some reason, Golshi-san, who was not a member, was also there, entangled in some resistance bands in a way I couldn't possibly comprehend. From the lineup alone, you knew it was an impressive team.
Anyway, let's continue. I thought. "What's next, Chief?" I asked as I was standing up.
"Alright, try 35 reps of RDL. Your record is 34 with 850kg, right? Feel like you can do it?" the Chief asked from his chair where he was observing our forms.
"I'm fine. I still have plenty left," I said easily.
"Good. But let's wrap it up after this and do the regular check-up. You too, Oguri," the Chief said.
I nodded, and heard a muffled confirmation from Oguri-san, who was now on the bench press.
Romanian Deadlifts or RDL. A variant that focused on the core and posterior chain. A perfect power training exercise for my needs.
Thirty-five reps ended with a significant, satisfying burn across the targeted areas. I nodded to myself at that burn as this feeling was a sign of progress. I did a few cool-down sets before we headed back to our team room for the regular check.
When we left the gym, I glanced at the corner where Team Sirius had been. They seemed to have already left. The sun was almost setting, so it was a perfect time to end the day. Still, there were many other Umamusume and trainers in the gym, everyone doing their best. I nodded in approval.
We arrived at our team room and proceeded with the observation and palpation. I then helped Oguri-san with her measurements, calling out the numbers to the Chief. Then she did the same for me. We had done this routine multiple times now, and our efficiency was unquestionable.
"Alright, it's done. Let's do height and weight next," the Chief announced.
My height had increased a bit. Not bad. But—
"Ko-kun, you've gained—"
"Alright, Chief," I cut him off, my voice sharp. "You don't need to say it. I can see the number on the scale myself." I had to maintain what little dignity I had left as a girl.
"Come on, you don't need to worry!" he said with a wry smile. "It's different from Oguri. Yours is an increase in muscle mass. It's a good thing."
"Chief, you should learn about delicacy," I replied curtly.
"What delicacies?" Oguri-san's ears perked up.
"It's not about food 'delicacy,' Oguri-san..." I sighed.
"Right, my bad," the Chief said, clearing his throat. "Anyway, take this." He handed me a rolled-up object.
"What's this? A yoga mat?" I asked, unrolling it.
"Yes. Starting tonight, you can do yoga before sleep. You still need to keep up your flexibility alongside your steadily growing muscles, and it's good for improving sleep quality. You still remember what the yoga instructor we went to taught you, right?" he explained.
"I see. Yes. Consider it done, Chief," I assured him.
"Nice! The training for today is up. You can leave first; I still need to input the data," the Chief said, turning to his laptop.
"I'll stay for a while," Oguri-san said, reaching for a container filled with nori rice crackers and plopping down on the sofa.
"Okay," the Chief smiled wryly. He looked back at me. "Oh, right. Don't go past the speed limit on your night run, Ko-kun."
"I won't," I sighed, the exasperation clear in my voice. "As I said, it was a one-time thing because of Tsurumaru-san." He had been reminding me about it every single day since the night I was "captured" by Tazuna-san. I appreciated his concern, but I wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
"You're usually cool-headed, but when it comes to them, your fuse is rather short. Just be careful," he said as he gave me his thumbs up.
I just nodded, pondering his words for a moment before saying my farewell. I trudged along the path to the dormitory as a strange feeling of defeat settling over me. Objectively speaking, what the Chief had said was true. My competitive spirit might've sometimes clouded my decision making.
"Hah... I'm still immature..." I murmured defeatedly to the evening air.