"Because... I want you!"
The words escaped before she could stop them. McQueen froze, one trembling hand pressed to her chest, startled by the violent thud of her heartbeat.
Only now did she truly understand—her heart had long since chosen the one it wanted to spend its future with.
Before, when she'd seen Rice Shower and Tokai Teio openly showing affection toward Mizuno, the pure-hearted McQueen hadn't wanted to disturb them. She'd buried her own feelings, refusing to admit the truth.
But you can't hide fire with paper. Once exposed, suppressed emotions only burned brighter.
The moment she recognized her true feelings, the number above her heart leapt—from a faint fondness of 50 to a clear affection of 71—in mere seconds.
"?!"
Mizuno stared blankly.
Something was seriously wrong here. He hadn't said more than a few sentences, hadn't done anything questionable, yet her affection level had suddenly skyrocketed?!
Was he secretly some genius psychologist—able to make Uma Musume fall for him with just three lines?
Not that he wanted such a power! Give that to those harem-protagonist types who lived for flirting and "conquering." Mizuno just wanted to do his job as a trainer and help his Uma Musume achieve their dreams. He had zero interest in "unlocking affection routes."
The only slight comfort was that McQueen's heart had turned pink again instead of pure black.
But even that wasn't necessarily a good thing. Whether it was black or pink, as long as the number stayed high, Mizuno was in danger.
Because the higher an Uma Musume's affection level, the higher the chance she'd go yandere when things went wrong.
Uma Musume were creatures of overwhelming emotion—love and jealousy burned equally hot. One small misunderstanding, and they could switch from devotion to obsession. That was how so many trainers ended up locked in their beloved's basement.
That was exactly why Mizuno always kept a safe distance from high-affection Uma Musume—because if one of them snapped, it was over.
"…"
He eyed McQueen warily, gripping his wheelchair's wheels and slowly inching backward.
"N-no! I misspoke!" McQueen panicked when she saw him retreat and rushed forward, gripping the wheelchair firmly so it couldn't move. She looked like she might never let go again.
"Don't be afraid! It's not me who wants you—it's the Mejiro family! They want your ability to make advanced training equipment!"
She forced a smile, trying to sound harmless.
"R-really…?" Mizuno's forehead broke into a sweat as he glanced down. The wheelchair's wheels had sunk several centimeters into the dirt under her grip. She didn't look harmless at all.
"If your family wants equipment, they can just ask. Bring the parts—I'll build them for free. Is kidnapping me really necessary?" he complained.
"Of course it's necessary!" McQueen leaned forward, her lovely face so close that Mizuno instinctively pressed his back flat against the chair.
"If you don't join our family and become one of us, what if another family takes you away?!" Her voice rose in agitation, pale violet eyes fixed on him like a hawk's.
Resources were limited—especially talent. Great houses stayed powerful not just through wealth but by absorbing talent and monopolizing it.
And Trainer Mizuno was a once-in-a-generation asset: a genius trainer who could brew healing Honey Drinks and design cutting-edge training equipment. Any family that secured him would dominate the racing world.
He was basically a gauntlet already holding five Infinity Stones—whoever had him held the balance of power.
Even if the Mejiro family couldn't have him, they definitely couldn't let anyone else have him.
"Though I really don't want to resort to this," McQueen said, her voice trembling between guilt and determination, "if you won't agree willingly, I'll just have to force you."
She bent down and pressed her head against Mizuno's chest, wrapping her arms around his waist—ready to lift him at any moment.
"Guaaah! Calm down, calm down!!" Mizuno felt the raw strength in her small frame and started sweating bullets, clutching the wheelchair's armrests for dear life.
But the wheelchair offered no real protection. McQueen could easily lift a grown man; a chair's weight meant nothing to her.
The only reason she hadn't carried him off yet was that she was still waiting for his answer.
If he agreed, she'd take him away peacefully and call it "escorting him home."
If he refused, she'd praise her ancestors' wisdom and drag him off by force.
Faced with this, Mizuno realized that the only way to avoid being abducted immediately was to appease her somehow—to buy time.
But he couldn't actually join the Mejiro family.
A clan that powerful could easily swallow a poor nobody like him. Once inside, he might never get out again. If they decided to treat him as a "kept husband," he'd have nowhere to run or complain.
So he needed an excuse—a way to calm McQueen down without giving her what she wanted.
"McQueen, how about we make a promise?" Mizuno said softly, patting her shoulder.
"A promise?" McQueen looked up warily. "What kind of promise?"
"We can sign a lifetime employment contract," he suggested, trying his best to sound earnest.
"I'll agree to work exclusively for your Mejiro family forever—designing equipment only for you. That way you won't have to worry about me going to another family, and there'll be no need for… abductions. Isn't that better?"
He spoke simply and sincerely, his tone calm and convincing.
"…"
But McQueen immediately shook her head, rejecting it outright.
"Absolutely not!" she snapped, narrowing her eyes and tightening her arms around him.
"Trainer Mizuno, I'm not stupid."
"A contract only works if both sides willingly honor it—and it's bound by law."
"For someone like you—whose background is unclear, whose real face nobody's even seen—it'd be easy to slip through legal cracks."
"Maybe you'd sign it today and run off to another country tomorrow. I can't risk that!"
"Unless you leave me some leverage—like your Trainer ID, or your nude photos—no deal!" she declared, burying her face against his chest again.
"Ha?!" Mizuno's eyes went wide with horror.
He hadn't expected McQueen to see through his bluff so fast—and even turn it back on him, demanding collateral!
But there was no way he could give her his Trainer ID. It was his only proof of identity in this world.
Japan didn't have a single unified national ID system like other countries. Identification depended on things like driver's licenses, insurance cards, or company IDs.
If he lost his Trainer ID, by tomorrow he might wake up to find himself married to some Uma Musume without even knowing it.
As for nude photos…
"That's even more impossible!"
"Guh… isn't there any gentler way that doesn't involve kidnapping me?"
"Then marry into the Mejiro family!" McQueen blurted out.
But with her face still buried in his chest, her muffled voice made it hard for Mizuno to catch every word—or to notice her burning-red cheeks.
"As long as you confirm a marriage with one of our family members and formally become part of the Mejiro family," she said quickly, "I'll temporarily let you off!"
"Gwah! Marriage again?!" Mizuno couldn't help shouting.
First the Condor family, now the Mejiros too—why did every Uma Musume clan think of marriage first?!
"Again?" McQueen's ears twitched. She slowly lifted her head, eyes narrowing.
"Trainer Mizuno, what do you mean by again? Do you already have a marriage arrangement with another Uma Musume family?"
Her heart color plunged like a sinking sun.
"No, no!" Mizuno waved both hands frantically, cold sweat running down his temples.
"I'm just a poor, weak, helpless, disabled trainer! How could any Uma Musume family whose head's a pro wrestler possibly force me into marriage and childbearing? Totally impossible!"
"…That's good then." McQueen frowned slightly. Something in his tone felt off, but she couldn't quite say what—so she decided to believe him for now.
"In that case, pick one of our Mejiro girls to marry. I'll arrange everything for you."
Her cheeks were red as she looked up at him, chin brushing against his stomach in a way that made Mizuno's nerves spark uncomfortably.
"Pick one?" Mizuno blinked. "Anyone's fine?"
"Mm." McQueen nodded softly.
"Well then…" He pretended to think deeply, then—against every instinct of self-preservation—his brain slipped.
"I think the Mejiro grandmother is still rather charming…"
"?"
McQueen stared blankly at him for two seconds. Then her expression darkened, anger flickering in her eyes. She clenched a trembling fist, her face clearly saying: Say that again, and wheelchair or not, I'll break your legs myself.
"No, no, no! That was a joke!" Mizuno yelped, raising his hands like a surrendering soldier. "I just don't know any of your family members. Even if you tell me to choose one, I've got no clue where to start!"
"Didn't I introduce several of my sisters to you before? Just choose one of them!" McQueen said seriously, tightening her hold on his clothes.
"Oh, those…" Mizuno finally remembered. She had indeed introduced a few Mejiro girls to him earlier. He'd kept things distant on purpose, so only Mejiro Ardan—who'd shown interest in Chinese history—had actually chatted with him for more than a minute.
"So… who should I pick?" he asked cautiously.
"Anyone!" McQueen puffed her cheeks, clearly irritated, like why are you even asking something this simple?
"…"
That immediately set off alarms in Mizuno's mind.
When a girl said anyone, did she ever mean it?
If he picked the wrong one, things could get way worse.
So, after careful thought—and zero wisdom—he ventured, "Then maybe… Ardan-san seems suitable…"
The sparkle in McQueen's eyes instantly dimmed.
"Is that so… then alright…" she whispered. Her gaze dropped, hands trembling as she gripped his shirt. Her voice was soft—but the heart floating above her head, which had just turned pink again, now plummeted straight into pitch-black.
"Gwah?!" Mizuno froze.
Didn't she just say anyone?! Why did she instantly blacken again?!
As expected, when a girl says "anyone," it's a complete lie! Choose wrong, and you're doomed!
And a blackened Mejiro McQueen would absolutely drag him straight into that Mejiro basement.
Acting fast, Mizuno scrambled to correct course, lying through his teeth:
"Although Ardan-san is suitable, she's not the most suitable!"
"Oh?!" McQueen's ears shot up again. She lifted her head, eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Then who is the most suitable? Tell me!"
She grabbed Mizuno's collar and promptly sat right on his lap, her weight pressing down on him like a threat.
"Gulp…" Mizuno swallowed hard. "Of course, it's the kind—(hearted)—"
(Heart: faint black → pitch-black)
"Of course, it's the kindhearted young lady, McQueen-san!" he blurted out, powered by pure survival instinct.
"Really?!" McQueen gasped, covering her mouth in delighted shock, her ears and tail perking up in joy.
"Mhm." Mizuno nodded stiffly, his face twitching.
"If I had to marry someone from your Mejiro family, then you're definitely the best choice… Of course! That's only if I'm marrying into your family. Otherwise, I'd never agree willingly!"
He rushed to add that last clause, terrified she'd take it too seriously.
But for a certain Uma Musume, those extra words didn't matter at all.
"Mm…" McQueen shyly lowered her head, lightly touching her flushed cheeks.
Above her, the heart flickered faintly—then finally settled into a deep, passionate pink…