Chapter 131: The Multi-Layered Slopes of the Japanese Derby
"Just running farther isn't the point—or rather, that was never the purpose of this special training in the first place."
Recalling the training plan, Makoto walked over to the wall, opened the travel bag, and explained, "It's meant to train your vertical movement, body coordination, balance, and power control."
"So for today's session, how far you can run along the wall is secondary."
"What really matters is whether you can run the way I specify."
As he spoke, he began taking out the tools needed for the session.
"Here, put these on first."
"What are these…?"
Obediently stepping closer, Kitasan Black curiously studied the items in Makoto's hands and asked reflexively.
"As you can see—helmet, padded vest, knee guards, elbow guards, and wrist guards."
He explained casually as he placed a helmet—with small ear cutouts—over her head.
"I've told you before, real extreme stunts are dangerous—both in training and performance."
"Take wall-running, for example. In an actual show, you'd be required to perform specific movements mid-run; sometimes even the start and landing have set actions—especially the landing."
"You won't be doing any of the complicated maneuvers, but the height and curvature of your runs will get much more difficult."
"At first, you'll probably fall a few times. That's why these safety measures are essential."
"And then, there's this."
After making sure Kitasan Black was fully geared up, Makoto pulled a thick stack of plastic sheets and something that looked like a blower from the bottom of the bag.
Under Kitasan Black's curious gaze, he spread the sheets along the base of the wall, connecting the end to the blower.
With a whoosh sound, the sheets inflated into a large air cushion—over a meter wide and six or seven meters long.
When her Trainer had mentioned that the next phase of training would be different and somewhat dangerous, Kitasan Black hadn't thought much of it.
But now, dressed head-to-toe in protective gear and staring at the massive cushion, she was starting to realize what he meant by "different" and "dangerous." A faint tension crept into her chest.
Her hand instinctively brushed against the strap under her chin, then down to the padded vest around her waist and stomach. Just as she was about to speak, she noticed Makoto picking up a piece of chalk and scribbling on the wall.
"To put it simply, the Japanese Derby is a race that tests both explosive power and endurance."
Marking various heights on the wall, Makoto tilted his head toward her.
"And that's because the course itself is defined by its multi-layered slopes."
"Right out of the gate, there's a long downhill stretch with a 1.9-meter drop. After that slope evens out, there's another half-meter descent that continues for a while."
"Just before the third corner, there's a 1.5-meter uphill, and midway through the turn, another half-meter downhill—though that one's much steeper."
"Before the final corner, it rises again—this time with a 2.4-meter climb that lasts quite a while. After that slope, you reach the final straight."
"Compared to other races, the Japanese Derby's gradients might seem gentle, but the total elevation change of over five meters across the whole course still drains a lot of stamina."
"And because the slopes are divided into segments, if you don't adjust in time, your rhythm falls apart—and before you know it, you're exhausted in the final stretch."
"So now you see why I said your previous training wasn't enough."
As Makoto spoke, several chalk markings appeared on the wall—each at a different height.
Staring at the uneven pattern, Kitasan Black grew even more nervous.
In her previous wall-running practices, no matter how far she ran, her path was always a smooth, gentle arc.
However, from the markings Makoto had drawn, the slopes of the Japanese Derby looked so jagged and fragmented that it was impossible to just "run through them" like before.
At the same time, she understood much more clearly where the difficulty lay.
If this were practiced on flat ground, she wouldn't have to worry about changes in elevation—whether it was an uphill or downhill, she'd simply run as she always did in training.
But isolating those vertical height differences and trying to tackle them all at once? That was simply impossible.
A single mistake would send her falling straight off the wall. Without the protective gear and the cushion below, she'd definitely get hurt.
Yet, after a brief wave of tension, understanding dawned on her.
Back when she first started learning extreme stunts, Makoto had told her:
"If you can move freely on a vertical surface, then on level ground, no matter how steep the slope, it'll feel easy."
This training clearly followed that same logic.
The slopes of the Japanese Derby were indeed complicated, but if she could adapt to the vertical height changes on this wall, then handling the real racetrack would be a breeze.
"…Let's begin, Trainer."
Gripping her wrist guard and flexing her joints, Kitasan Black looked at Makoto with steady eyes.
"I told you—I'm completely ready."
Makoto had been about to add a few last-minute cautions, but hearing that, he couldn't help but smile.
"Okay. Then we'll start with the 1.9-meter mark. The rule is simple—run up the wall and reach that height as quickly as possible, then maintain it for as long as you can."
After giving the clear and concise instruction, he stepped back a few paces and raised his stopwatch.
In that instant, Kitasan Black crouched into a starting position. Her tail flicked sharply upward, then lowered—a small ritual she always performed before every sprint or gate start.
But this time, her opponent wasn't any rival Umamusume.
It was the solid wall standing before her.
"Ready… go."
Seeing that she was set, Makoto pressed the button on the stopwatch.
With a burst of motion, Kitasan Black kicked off for her run, the sole of her foot striking the wall with a firm thud—and she instantly clenched her teeth.
She hadn't expected that simply adding a height requirement would make a once-familiar exercise feel so much harder.
On her first attempt, she completely failed to meet Makoto's standard.
Her foot landed just below the "1.9m" mark, and in a brief moment of panic, she tried to adjust upward.
But pushing vertically and pushing horizontally were two completely different things.
Compared to the latter, the former made her feel like she was losing control of her body.
As soon as her toes twisted against the wall, the muscles along her inner thigh spasmed, and then—her balance collapsed.
Her instincts kicked in; she twisted her waist and swung her arms, her other leg sweeping in a wide arc in a desperate search for footing. But suddenly the rough wall felt slick as glass.
She barely managed to shift her weight before the world spun upside down—her shoulder straps jerked taut, and the next second, her back hit the inflated mat with a muffled whump.
…Wait… did I just fail already?
Still dazed, she blinked blankly up at the ceiling—only to hear a tock-tock-tock sound against her helmet.
Makoto's face appeared upside-down in her field of view, wearing a teasing grin that she wasn't quite used to seeing.
"Well? Didn't I say you weren't ready yet?"
Crouching above her, he rapped her helmet lightly again, unable to resist a chuckle before his tone turned serious.
"So—treat that as your first trial run. We'll start again."
"Remember what I told you: extreme stunts aren't about brute strength. It's about using every part of your body freely and cleverly."
"This time, adjust your footing angle—pull it in a little tighter—and activate your ankle earlier on the ascent."
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