That evening, Kitasan Black could think of nothing else but her winning uniform. The image of it danced behind her eyes while she ate, making every bite taste like pure anticipation.
During dinner she fired off a quick text to Yasui Makoto, asking him to send a photo if the uniform had already been prepared at the meeting. The reply came faster than she expected, and the picture that followed brought an even bigger surprise.
The association and Tracen Academy had quietly taken her measurements from Yasui Makoto weeks earlier. The uniform was already finished.
One glance at the photo and she fell head over heels. The design perfectly captured her favorite festival style: a fitted inner dress, a sleeveless long shirt layered over it, flowing independent sleeves, tall over-the-knee socks, low-heeled lace-up boots, and a classic knot tied at the back. The inner dress shimmered in a rich gold base accented with festive bright red. The long shirt, sleeves, and socks used a deep jet-black that matched her name and her favorite color, while bright red and glittering gold cloud-sea patterns swirled across them alongside delicate floral motifs. The knot itself followed traditional festival coloring—red, white, and gold—that tied the whole look together in perfect harmony.
For one wild moment she wanted to sprint straight to Yasui Makoto's rental apartment and slip it on right then and there. She fought the urge with everything she had, then sent him a string of messages begging him to bring the uniform to Tracen Academy the next morning.
She tossed and turned all night, heart racing with excitement. The next morning she reached the track earlier than anyone and spotted Yasui Makoto right away.
"Trainer! Trainer! Where's my winning uniform? You didn't forget it, right?"
Before the words were even out, she watched him reach behind his back and pull out a sleek black garment bag. The moment she saw it, joy exploded across her face. She snatched the bag and hugged it tight to her chest, as if someone might try to steal it. Her feet kept lifting into restless high-knee steps, ready to bolt at any second.
"Thank you, Trainer! Um… can I run back and try it on first? Just for a minute! I swear it won't cut into training time!"
Yasui Makoto had known her for three or four months now, yet he had never seen Kitasan Black this eager. A soft chuckle escaped him. He understood exactly how she felt.
Here was a Uma Musume who had dreamed of becoming an idol, whose early days had been anything but smooth, yet who had poured every ounce of effort into training until victory after victory followed. Now she stood on the threshold of one of the most prestigious races in the entire sport. All those days of hard work, all those dreams, had built to this single shining moment. No wonder ambition and fighting spirit burned so brightly in her eyes.
"Train in your winning uniform today," he told her with a calm smile.
Kitasan Black's ears perked up, her crimson eyes wide with surprise, delight, and curiosity all at once.
Yasui Makoto continued seriously, "First, let me be clear. This isn't a reward or a chance to slack off. Yesterday's meeting made it very clear—the winning uniform is special. I need to run one final round of adjustments before the race. So you—"
"I understand! Wait right here for me!"
She didn't even let him finish. Already in a sprinter's stance, she spun around and dashed toward the dormitory, ponytail flying behind her like a victory flag.
Yasui Makoto stood there for a moment, stunned, then shook his head with another quiet laugh and began setting up the day's training equipment.
Not long after, familiar light footsteps echoed across the track. He looked up… and froze.
"How is it, Trainer? I feel like this outfit looks really, really good. What do you think?"
In the soft morning light, the black-haired girl turned slowly in a full circle, low-heeled boots clicking softly. The hem of her jet-black long shirt rippled like a midnight tide, while the gold and red cloud-sea patterns caught the sunlight and seemed to flow with dazzling life. Her over-the-knee socks hugged the powerful lines of her calves, and the festival knot fluttered behind her like an eternal crimson-and-gold flame. When she flung her sleeves open, scattered sparks of light danced around her like golden petals. The bright red accents on her dress made her crimson eyes sparkle even brighter, and every high-knee bounce sent her ponytail sweeping across her fair shoulders.
"I feel… full of power!" she declared.
For a brief second Yasui Makoto saw something more—an illusion of shimmering lights behind her, faint crimson glows and brilliant golden candle flames weaving together into a starry path that stretched all the way to the Satsuki Sho. He blinked, and the vision vanished, leaving only the joyful girl standing before him, fingers gently stroking the black-and-gold ornament on her chest.
"…It looks very good," he said after a moment, nodding in honest approval. He pointed toward the track. "Since you're this motivated, let's get started. Still a 2000-meter distance. I'm ready when you are."
"Okay—watch me!"
Kitasan Black clenched her fists, eyes blazing with more energy than ever before, and shot forward onto the track.
…
Right up until the eve of the Satsuki Sho, Kitasan Black trained in her winning uniform exactly as Yasui Makoto had arranged. Every other Uma Musume on the entry list was doing the same. The blessing of the three goddesses was no empty rumor. The uniforms did not grant sudden bursts of impossible strength; instead, they helped each girl display the full power of her daily training with perfect stability.
That stability brought its own important phase—an adjustment and adaptation period as race day drew near. It was the final piece of preparation, and it also served the publicity needs of the event. In addition to the school-arranged pre-race interviews, Yasui Makoto took plenty of photos of Kitasan Black during her runs and posted them with short captions on her account. The other girls did the same.
Kitasan Black did not overthink any of it. She simply followed her daily training schedule step by step, then happily scrolled through her account in the evenings, liking and commenting on posts from friends and future rivals alike.
The afternoon before the Satsuki Sho, inside Kitasan Black's dormitory…
She lay on her bed with her calves crossed in the air, bare feet swinging lazily while she scrolled through her phone. Every few seconds she let out a delighted little exclamation.
"As expected, no matter how many times I look, Crown-chan and Dura-chan's winning uniforms are so cool!"
Satono Diamond sat at her desk, tapping away at her own screen, then glanced over with a soft chuckle.
"Kita-chan, you really don't feel any nerves at all, do you? Want to double-check your luggage again? My sister said it's almost time to head out for Nakayama Racecourse."
"Don't worry! I finished packing everything for tomorrow's race last night!"
Kitasan Black answered with total confidence, yet she still rolled off the bed and jogged over to the suitcase by the door, just to be sure. She opened it and began rummaging through while muttering happily.
"Let me see… race notes—packed. Horseshoes and spares—packed. Winning uniform—perfect. Entry pass and medical results—all good…"
She closed the suitcase with a satisfied click and turned to Satono Diamond with a bright smile. Before she could say anything more, her phone chimed with a new text.
She read it quickly, took a deep breath, then grabbed the handle of her suitcase with one hand and reached out with the other to her friend.
"Trainer just reminded me it's time to depart. Let's head to the Satsuki Sho together, Dia-chan!"