(A/n: brain storage... this is fic i rewrite from my other umamusume fic that i just decide to stop updating it.)
The rain poured down in relentless sheets, swallowing the night in a curtain of silver. The street was dark, illuminated only by the pale glow of scattered lamps. Beneath one of them stood a young man, chest heaving, his breath misting in the cold air.
Ren.
He had been running for what felt like forever, chasing a shadow he could not afford to lose. Each stride splashed water from the puddles beneath his feet, soaking his shoes, his clothes, and his body to the bone. The cold gnawed at him, but he didn't care. His only thought was of her. his trainee.
At last, fate granted him the sight he sought. A lone silhouette stood at the edge of the road, unmoving. Ren slowed, his heartbeat echoing louder than the storm, as he approached.
The girl stood still, staring down at the drenched pavement as though it could answer her despair. Her hair clung to her face, her clothes plastered against her small frame, as if she had been waiting for him all along.
Ren's voice trembled when he called out.
"Seabiscuit."
Her ears twitched at the sound. She did not turn to face him. Instead, her voice carried through the storm, low and raw.
"Trainer… do I really have the potential to be the horse racing girl you said I could be?"
Ren froze for a moment, then answered with quiet conviction.
"Of course you do. You're the one I chose."
"But everyone says otherwise," she whispered, her tone breaking. "They laugh behind my back. They say I have no talent at all."
"Seabiscuit, I—"
"They call me worthless!" she cut him off, her voice trembling as if the rain itself carried her sorrow. "They say I should quit… that I'll never be good enough. That I'll always finish last."
She turned to him then, her amber eyes red and swollen with tears. Rain masked her cheeks, but Ren could feel the weight of her grief in every word. "They call me 'Dead Last Biscuit' because I always trail far behind. Tell me, Trainer… why did you even choose me? Out of all the horse girls, why me? Was it my body? Was it because you enjoy watching me struggle?"
Her voice cracked into sobs, and her whole frame shook.
Ren's chest tightened. Slowly, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into an embrace. Seabiscuit gasped softly at the sudden warmth, her body stiff beneath his arms. His face was hidden in shadow, his voice low but steady.
"Seabiscuit… I never chose you for shallow reasons. I chose you because I believe you'll become someone extraordinary one day. Those who mock you only do so out of jealousy, trying to break you with their words. Even if their doubts hold a grain of truth, it doesn't matter. To me, you've always been number one. It breaks my heart to see you like this."
The rain continued to fall, heavy and endless.
Ren's voice softened. "Do you remember the day I first asked you to be my trainee?"
"…Yes," she murmured.
"And do you remember what I said to you then?"
Her eyes grew distant as memory stirred. She saw again the moment she had fallen on the track, exhausted and overlooked, when he had reached out his hand with that quiet, determined smile.
"Would you like to become my trainee?" he had asked. "I'll make you into someone great in horse racing."
The memory brought fresh tears to her eyes.
Ren drew back slightly, still holding her shoulders, and lowered his head. "If anyone is at fault, it's me. I must be a poor trainer for letting you feel this way. I couldn't even hold up my promise. I'm sorry, Seabiscuit."
Her eyes widened. She gripped his soaked clothes tightly. "N-no, Trainer! You're not a bad trainer. You've always cared for me. You cook for me, encourage me, stay by my side even when I lose again and again. You've never abandoned me. You're not a bad trainer you're the best I could ask for!"
Ren stared at her earnest face, his heart easing just a little. He smiled, brushing away the tears at the corners of her eyes. "Then if I'm your good trainer, Seabiscuit… don't forget you're my good trainee too. No matter what anyone else says, you'll always be great in my eyes."
The storm began to lighten, the rain softening into a drizzle. Ren extended his hand once more, the same way he had that first day. "So once again, Seabiscuit… will you take my hand and walk forward as my trainee?"
Her lips trembled, but then curved into a smile, fragile yet radiant. She placed her hand firmly in his. "…Yes!"
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The night of rain and tears passed, and something within Seabiscuit had changed.
On the training track the following morning, her strides were sharper, her breathing steadier. The girl who once dragged her feet now tore across the dirt with newfound resolve. Ren stood at the edge of the track, arms crossed, watching her every step with quiet satisfaction.
So that's it, he thought, nodding to himself. She only needed a goal. A spark to chase. Now look at her.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder what drove her so suddenly. Was it the desire to silence those cruel voices? Or perhaps, simply, the determination to prove herself to him? Whatever it was, as her trainer, he intended to support her all the way.
When Seabiscuit finished her run, she slowed to a walk, chest rising and falling in rhythm with her breath. Her hair clung to her cheeks, but her expression was brighter than he had seen in a long time. She trotted toward him, a smile tugging at her lips.
"Trainer, how was I today?" she asked, voice laced with anticipation.
Ren lifted a thumb in approval, his mouth curving into a small grin.
"You were just as great as I imagined."
Her cheeks reddened slightly, and she muttered, almost to herself, "Hehe… is that so?"
Ren tilted his head, curious. "What race are you planning to enter next?"
Seabiscuit blinked. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. She lowered her gaze, then peeked at him from the corner of her eye.
"I… I don't know yet. Um, Trainer… is there any race you'd want me to enter?"
He raised a brow at her evasive tone but humored her. Pulling out his tablet, he scrolled through the upcoming schedules, then turned the screen toward her.
"Take a look."
"Sure," she said quickly, not even glancing at the tablet. Instead, her eyes lingered on him, searching his face as if the answer lay there instead.
Ren gave her a helpless look. "You didn't even check."
Seabiscuit pouted faintly, then leaned closer to glance at the display. "Narragansett Park? Where's that?"
"It's in Pawtucket, Rhode Island," Ren explained, lowering the tablet. His eyes met hers. "Would you like to participate?"
For a moment, there was only silence. Seabiscuit's lips parted, but no words came.
"Seabiscuit?" he prompted gently.
She blinked, startled. "Ah—yes, I will!" She quickly turned her head away, as if to hide the heat rising in her cheeks.
"Alright then. I'll sign you up."
As he spoke, her expression faltered. She whispered almost under her breath, "…Oh, it's just an illusion."
Ren frowned slightly. "Hm? What do you mean?"
"Nothing," she replied quickly, forcing a small smile as she jogged back toward the track.
He watched her retreating figure, puzzled but unwilling to press. "Alright then. One more lap, and we'll call it a day."
"Okay," Seabiscuit answered, though her voice carried a lazy, almost distracted lilt.
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Ren's apartment was quiet save for the faint hum of the fan. He dropped onto the couch, sinking into its cushions with a sigh. His mind wandered back to the track earlier.
Seabiscuit was acting strange…
She hadn't been her usual self after training. Was it because someone said something behind her back again? The thought weighed on him until his phone suddenly rang, breaking the silence.
The screen lighting up with a familiar caller ID. He answered without hesitation. "Good evening—ah, wait, it should be morning there. Good morning, Mom."
A composed, mature woman's voice replied.
"Takahashi Renjiro."
Ren immediately straightened, tension running through his spine. His mother rarely used his full name.
"Yes, Mother?"
"It's been almost a year since you went to America. Your father and I are worried about you."
Ren relaxed, realizing what this was about. "Mom, you know this is part of the academy's assignment. Before I can become a full-time trainer, I have to complete this term abroad. Once the year's over, I'll come back to Japan."
"Hmmm…" His mother hummed, as if weighing his words. And then she dropped the real reason for her call.
"Have you found any girl you fancy over there? If not, your father and I have a few candidates back home."
Ren blinked, choking on his own breath. "What? No—I'm still too young to get married."
"Too young?" his mother snapped. "You're already twenty-two! Do you know when your father was your age, he had already—"
And so began the long, inevitable monologue about family duty, grandchildren, and the glory days of her youth. Ren slumped deeper into the couch, sighing as he let her words wash over him like a storm he couldn't escape. Only when she finally excused herself for another obligation did the call mercifully end.
Ren let out a long breath. "…Finally."
To distract himself, he opened his phone and scrolled through the browser. He searched for familiar names Symboli Rudolf, Maruzensky, Haiseiko hoping to see some hint of their debuts. But there was nothing.
Ren wasn't originally from this world. He had lived an entirely different life on Earth, only to awaken here with memories of his past life. When his parents in this world urged him to continue studying, he chose the trainer's path. After all, for someone who had played the Uma Musume game in his past life, what better dream was there than becoming a trainer for your favorite horse girl right?
His knowledge about real horse racing was shallow at best, limited to what he remembered from the game. But that was enough to guide his choices.
When he first met Seabiscuit, she had reminded him of Haru Urara—a girl who lost again and again, but still ran with everything she had. That was why he chose her. Not just out of resemblance, but because his gut told him she could shine one day. And because… he wanted to help her.
Ren stood and walked to the wall where a calendar hung. He picked up a marker, circling a date in bold red ink.
"In ten days," he murmured. "Seabiscuit's race begins."
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p.s p.s