"Sorry about that, consider this my apology!"
Mr. C.B. blinked and handed the paper-wrapped pork cutlet over to Dream Weaver.
The cutlet was encased in a golden, glistening crust, the intoxicating aroma of oil mingling with the scent of meat—just one whiff was enough to lift anyone's spirits.
Dream Weaver didn't refuse. She took the pork cutlet, sat down on a nearby bench, and began munching away happily.
Crumbs from the crispy coating sprinkled lightly onto her Tracen uniform as she ate.
Before Mr. C.B. could even pull out a handkerchief to wipe them off, Dream Weaver had already picked the crumbs up herself and popped them into her mouth.
She licked her lips, then turned to Mr. C.B. and said earnestly, "Can't let food go to waste."
It was a habit she'd had since childhood.
Whether during those years living with her mother, who raised her alone, or later, when she was juggling hospital bills while striving to make it at Tracen, Dream Weaver never had the luxury of wasting food.
Naturally, her deep respect for food made her especially mindful of what she ate.
She wasn't quite like that Oguri Cap, who could turn into a gluttonous king, but whatever ended up in her hands, she never let a scrap go to waste.
After finishing the pork cutlet, Dream Weaver felt a bit better. She decided to let go of whatever had been nagging at Mr. C.B., and said to her, still standing there holding the handkerchief,
"Well, I'm heading back to training."
But before she could stand up, Mr. C.B., seated beside her, suddenly reached out and caught her by the wrist.
"Dream... why are you pushing yourself so hard?"
Dream Weaver glanced at her, a little puzzled by the question, and answered without a second thought,
"Strange question. Didn't we agree we're going to shake up the European racing world? Going all out in training is just natural, isn't it?"
"Is that so… yeah, you're right."
Mr. C.B. paused, unable to argue with Dream Weaver's reasoning. Still, something felt off.
Watching Dream Weaver brush off her skirt and prepare to leave, Mr. C.B. set aside her hesitation and spoke up plainly.
"Dream, you know I was once scouted by the European racing circuit, right?"
Dream Weaver, already on her feet, turned back and gave Mr. C.B. a curious look. She wasn't sure why this was coming up now, but she nodded.
From Mr. C.B.'s earlier conversations with Richard and her own self-introductions, Dream Weaver already knew about that part of her past.
But she hadn't felt the need to dig deeper.
After all, it wasn't unusual in this world for European trainers to seek out talented Uma Musume and train them from a young age. Hadn't the earlier selection races been set up precisely to catch those who slipped through the net?
"You know, I never really fit in growing up. On rainy days, I'd happily dash out to the playground and run around. I loved tracksuits so much I'd wear them to class. And if the sky looked too wide and beautiful to ignore, I'd just skip school and go for a walk."
"Back then, I was always getting scolded by my teachers for one thing or another."
Mr. C.B. lifted her gaze to the sky, her voice soft. Her clear blue eyes seemed to melt into the vast azure above.
"Maybe, deep down, I was already chasing freedom? But what freedom really was—I had no idea back then."
"Then one day, while skipping class, I stumbled onto the racetrack."
"Just like I told you before, the moment the starting gate flew open… I found my freedom."
Dream Weaver didn't really understand why Mr. C.B. was telling her all this now, but she didn't interrupt. Instead, she settled back onto the bench and quietly listened.
"After that, because of the talent I showed, I was quickly taken by a European trainer to a club for special training."
"But it wasn't until I actually stepped into that club that I suddenly realized—"
"The freedom I'd been searching for had vanished."
Mr. C.B. leaned back against the bench, her tone growing distant.
"Tests, then training, then races. The better an Uma Musume performed, the better her treatment. Those who failed were slowly pushed off the track. It felt endless..."
"Like every victory came at the cost of another Uma Musume. For a while, I even started to hate the track."
"But I couldn't quit."
Mr. C.B. turned her head toward Dream Weaver and spoke softly.
"Unlike wearing tracksuits to class or skipping school to wander—things that didn't really matter—the weight of the European racing world was just too heavy."
"My father's a trainer, my mother's an Uma Musume… so they understood better than anyone what that world represented. They just watched me with hopeful eyes."
"And the trainers I met at the club… they looked at me like I was some rare treasure. Day after day, people around me kept talking about what honors I could win, how brilliant my future would be."
"So back then… the goal they set for me was the Triple Crown."
Mr. C.B.'s tone was hard to read. In her usually bright blue eyes lay emotions Dream Weaver couldn't decipher.
"After Shinzan, the one who would lead Japanese Uma Musume Racing was going to be Symboli Rudolf."
"And I… I was chosen as the transitional Triple Crown winner between their eras."
"If I hadn't gotten involved with you and Rudolf's affairs, I might have ended up as your enemy."
Dream Weaver had vaguely sensed some of Mr. C.B.'s past before, but because of her always carefree demeanor, she'd never felt the need to pry.
In fact, during their very first meeting, Mr. C.B. had already expressed her disappointment with the current racing scene.
But back then, Dream Weaver didn't know her well—she'd just dragged her to the training field, single-minded in completing her task for Shiragawa.
Later, when facing off against Richard, Mr. C.B. had stepped up. And when Symboli Rudolf laid out her plan to rebel against the European racing world, Mr. C.B. didn't object. She just sat quietly on the sofa, watching Symboli Rudolf and Dream Weaver talk.
Dream Weaver had never been able to figure out what Mr. C.B. was really thinking.
Unlike the blunt Shiragawa or Symboli Rudolf, who didn't bother hiding her ambitions, Mr. C.B. was like the wind—impossible to grasp, always slipping through your fingers.
She had never revealed the past hidden beneath her carefree surface, so everyone naturally overlooked it. Who would have thought an Uma Musume like her carried such a history?
Dream Weaver looked at Mr. C.B., who seemed to be waiting for her response, and said,
"But you still gave up the Triple Crown that was right in front of you. You ran away from it all."
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.