"My name is Mr. CB. Good day to you."
Why!?
Why is my resolve wavering!?
I couldn't hide my shock in front of the future superstar Uma Musume. My thoughts scrambled, and I found myself drifting back—back to how I met this horse girl, as if escaping reality.
I had made a decision: I would make the Twinkle Series shine. To do that, I needed to train my body.
There's a rumor that building too much muscle at a young age stunts growth. That's only half true. Kids aren't strong yet, so improper training can cause injury and hinder development. But muscles don't squeeze bones or stunt growth directly. In short, if you train properly and avoid overdoing it, you'll be fine.
And I had an edge—I was a track and field athlete in my previous life.
Sure, the way horse girls run is different, and their race distribution is unlike anything I knew. But the body's structure is similar enough. With care, I could train myself.
Still, I worried. So I had someone regularly check me for injuries.
The real challenge was food.
The orphanage I lived in was poor. Meals were meager. And as a horse girl, I needed far more energy than others.
So I begged for scraps in the shopping district, researched edible wild plants, and scavenged what I could. It was rough.
But through sheer effort, I built a strong, flexible body—one that could endure and perform.
A strong body is priceless. Athletes cry over injuries. While horses are praised for being "safely famous." That's why I obsessed over building strength during this crucial pre-growth phase.
At the same time, I trained for speed and racing.
Horse girls can reach speeds over 70 km/h. That terrified me. I remembered being human—how fragile flesh can be. One fall could be fatal.
But I had to get used to it.
I also wanted to develop racing instincts. To win, I needed more than speed—I needed intuition.
I entered every race I could.
You might wonder: Are there races for small children?
Yes. Plenty.
There's something called "grass lace"—not actual grass, but like baseball fields. There's also the Chibikko Uma Musume Race, sponsored by the shopping district, and the Ekiden Marathon, which has no age limit.
My orphanage teacher was worried, but when I said, "I'll win races and bring money to the orphanage!" he cried and gave me permission.
Winning was tough, especially outside my age group. But I managed to earn a little. That night's dinner was luxurious.
Then came the call from Tracen Academy.
One day, the director summoned me. A nervous-looking man in a suit stood waiting.
"Are you Black Traitor?"
"Yes… but who are you?"
"Ha. I'm from URA."
He didn't even introduce himself properly.
"There's a request for you to join the Tracen Academy. But of course, you'll decline, right?"
"Eh? I want to accept!"
"…You know what kind of school that is? It has a long history. A horse girl like you doesn't belong there."
"And you don't have money, do you?"
She nodded.
"Exactly. So decline."
"Hmmm… Can't we work something out? I really want to join."
Her plan was after all to save money from racing and transfer later. The academy had no scholarship system. Poor horse girls couldn't dream of enrolling.
The man scowled.
"You won't win your debut match. You won't stay undefeated. There's no point."
"Then why invite me?"
"Hmph. You're winning races everywhere. But that won't happen at Tracen Academy."
"Is that for you to decide?"
"You brat. Fine. If you win your debut match, you can pay tuition. But if you lose, you'll owe tuition you can't afford. And if you can't pay, you're expelled. You'll be stuck with debt and no education. Still want in?"
He looked at me like I was doomed.
But his provocation lit a fire in me.
"Well then—please let me in!"
"What!? Do you even understand what you're saying!?"
"I do. So let the school admit me properly. I'll check with them myself."
"Tch! Damn brat."
It was absurd. Enrolling without tuition? Unheard of.
But to my surprise, the school agreed—on one condition.
I accepted without hesitation. If I couldn't overcome this, I'd never become a star horse girl.
The condition: participate in the Unregistered Match.
An amateur tournament open to any unregistered horse girl.
It was brutal.
Winning wasn't required, but I wanted to win—to enter with momentum.
So I headed to the place where the race was held.
It was like a festival. Horse girls of all ages gathered. The track was packed.
I'm small, so I struggled through the crowd—until someone grabbed my hand.
"Hey, this way. You okay?"
"Oh… thank you."
She was about my age. Green-blue eyes, long black hair with bouncing tips, and a hair ornament that read "CB."
"Are you the rumored kid?"
"Rumor?"
"Yeah. The one who told the scout, 'I won't pay tuition because I'll win my debut easily.'"
"Ra—I didn't say easy…"
"Ah-ha, I did."
She wore a school-issued uniform—same as mine.
"You're racing too?"
"Yep. I asked to race."
"You asked?"
"Of course. If a future classmate talks big, I want to see her prove it."
"Oh… so we're classmates?"
"Exactly. It's early, but we're future rivals. Be prepared."
"Still I'm happy. No one in my class could compete with me so far."
She smiled brightly.
"Enjoy the race."
"Yeah. Uh… I didn't catch your name. I'm Black Traitor. But call me whatever."
She nodded.
"My name is Mr. CB. Nice to meet you."
It was fate.
Mr. CB—a horse girl who inherited the spirit of a legendary Triple Crown winner.
I froze as she leaned in.
"What's wrong? You okay?"
"Y-yeah… Mr. CB…"
"Just call me CB."
"CB-chan…we're really classmate?"
"Yeah classmate."
"Same grade?"
"Same grade."
"Enrolling next year?"
"Next year."
"I see…"
What do I do!?
My whole life plan is changing!
Mr. CB—only the third horse in history to win the Triple Crown. My friend said his name is etched in racing history.
His generation was stacked with strong horses, yet he triumphed.
And now… I'm the same age as his Uma Musume counterpart.
No time to think.
If I don't prove myself in this race, even admission is at risk.
Beating CB might be impossible—but I have to try.
"CB, I won't lose."
"Yeah. I won't lose to Rack either."
"Rack?"
"'Black' and 'Traitor' aren't cute sounding. I'll call you Rack instead."
I see…
Usually, people call me Black or Traitor. "Rack" was oddly refreshing.
For the record, I have jet-black hair in a ponytail and bright blue eyes. At night, my eyes seem to float in the dark—so scary that people tell me to close them when I go to the bathroom.
Finally the race was set: 20 horse girls, sprinting 1200 meters across turf.
Participants ranged from my age to three years older. A short race, packed with competitors—it was going to be crowded and chaotic.
I was assigned bib number 20, the outermost lane.
To be honest, the disadvantage had its perks. While the outer frame adds distance, it also keeps you from getting swallowed by the pack. But for someone like me, who struggles with fast starts, it wasn't much help.
And then there was CB-chan—my rival.
"I'm number 20, outside lane. What about you, CB?"
"Oh, hello neighbor."
She pulled out her bib and showed me: number 19.
A miracle in the chaos.
"You won't be my neighbor for long."
"I'm in front, you're behind."
"It's the other way around."
I tried to provoke her, but it didn't work unfortunately.
As we finished our preparations, our names were called together.
"Let's make it a good race."
"Yeah, let's have fun."
We walked toward the turf.
The atmosphere was unlike any race I'd run before.
This was Tokyo Race Course—an official track.
Countless races had unfolded here, and more would be born. I could feel the weight of history pressing down, but it wasn't pressure. It made the corners of my mouth rise.
Even if I'm a "defective product," I'm still a horse girl.
So I couldn't help but look forward to the race.
"Welcome to the Unregistered Match! Many stories have been born here at Tokyo Race Course—including those of unregistered horse girls. Their fighting spirit is just as fierce as those in the Twinkle Series."
The live commentary echoed across the stadium.
"This race has drawn young talent. Third most popular: Jingling, full of spirit. Second most popular: Black Trater, undefeated in local races—even against adult Uma Musume. And the most popular: Mr. CB, the pride of a famous family and the face of the next-generation Twinkle Series!"
Gate-in began.
I was the last to enter.
But since I'd done so much mental training in my past life I didn't lose focus.
Inside the gate, I locked eyes with CB.
I smiled fearlessly. She smirked back.
A moment of calm.
"The Unregistered Match—begins!"
I dashed out my gate.
I couldn't crouch, but standing starts were familiar from my human days. One of my few strengths.
I surged forward, cutting the front and taking the lead.
CB was right behind me.
1200 meters is short. At Tokyo Race Course, even 1400-meter races hit the first corner quickly. At 1200, it's almost immediate.
I needed to lead before the pack swallowed me.
I trained to win—not to play. And I had a reason to win.
There was a clear difference in strength—between me and everyone else.
Except CB-chan.
"Black Traitor takes the lead with a powerful start! Mr. CB is right behind her, sticking close. The two are pulling away from the rest—already three lengths ahead!"
CB and I were flying.
We hit the first corner.
I could hear her breathing behind me.
She had the talent.
But right now—I had the race.
I shifted inward, applying pressure without blocking her path.
She struggled to find rhythm.
I accelerated slightly, securing the inside lane and preparing for the final corner.
I turned it—still in the lead.
Honestly, I thought I had it.
But then, on the final straight—
"Black Traitor still leads! Is she going to take it!? …No! Mr. CB is surging! She's climbing the uphill stretch effortlessly—closing in on Black Traitor!"
CB-chan accelerated.
Where did she get that speed??
But I couldn't afford to lose either.
This was my only chance.
So I pushed my legs with everything I had.
"Aaaaaaa!"
I ran until my vision turned white.
We crossed the finish line—together.
I gasped for breath and looked at the scoreboard.
"Photo finish."
The words glowed.
After a long pause, the number "20" appeared in first place.
I checked my bib.
I won.
I beat Mr. CB.
I pumped my fist.
"Let's Go!"
"Damn it! That's frustrating!"
"CB-chan…"
"I lost, Rack. I thought I had it."
"Honestly, I thought I lost too."
"You can say that now but I won't lose next time."
"Yeah. I won't either."
CB laughed, bright and carefree.
"Glad I came. That was a fun race."
"It really was."
"Next is the official game."
"Yeah. The Twinkle Series."
"I'm looking forward to it."
It was the first time I raced not just to win—but to bring life to the Twinkle Series.
And it was more fun than I ever imagined.
Thus, my unregistered match ended—and I was accepted into the academy.